#because this is a dream of course I immediately know what they are talking about | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Users from the US are the majority of Tumblr visitors.

#because this is a dream of course I immediately know what they are talking about

waldau · 1 day

Text

the most handsome man in the world — seventeen | 1,165 words | fluff

i just needed to get this out of my system okay

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

premise: you tell your boyfriend you've seen a guy you consider to be the most handsome man in the world, wait for him to react, and then show him a picture of him that you took. you know, because he's the most handsome man in the world.

seungcheol

what do you mean you’ve seen a guy more handsome than him? isn’t he broad enough to fill up your entire line of vision? pouts at you cooing over said man on your phone till you hit a little nerve by saying the guy looks like he’d be so good to cuddle with that he immediately marches over to see who you’re giggling over. only to find his face staring back at him. immediately wipes off his frown and tickles you for having done something like that.

jeonghan

is aware that this has to be one of your traps where you want to draw a reaction out of him, so he holds out on giving any commentary for however long he can. it’s only when you roll over in bed, clutching your phone to your chest does he finally break, sneakily pulling you into himself so he can see who you’re talking about. it’s him, of course. had no doubt it would be him but he had to confirm. becomes the big spoon for the rest of the night.

joshua

you don’t ever bring up other people or their attractiveness in conversations, so joshua is mildly interested in hearing if you’re going to elaborate on this guy. doesn’t even consider said person to be a threat till you say something about this guy looking reliable enough to imagine a future with. his curiosity wins and he leans over to see his face lighting up your screen. gives you a kiss to remind you he’s going to fulfill that dream one day.

junhui

is torn between wanting to know who this person is and also not wanting to know because…do you actually find another guy more attractive than him? didn’t you say he’s the most handsome person you know? keeps to himself till you run up to him and show him your phone, only for him to see a picture he’d sent you when he’d been working out at the gym. makes sure to take some more photos for you.

soonyoung

laughs. oh, yeah? really? but then it turns out you’re not joking, because you’re blushing over someone he doesn’t even know? and you’re not telling him about it? chases you around the house to sneak a peek at your phone and collapses into a blushing mess when he realizes it’s him you’re talking about. gives you bear hugs and forces you to cuddle with him for a while to make up for the stress you caused him.

wonwoo

raises an eyebrow when he hears you talking about this really handsome guy you saw in the queue at the cafe today. gets curious the more you talk about him; how didn’t he notice this guy when you did? traps you in place against the wall to see who you’re talking about and can’t help but smirk when he sees it’s himself. gives you a smug kiss and tells you he wants to hear more about what you think of this guy.

jihoon

hears you, nods, focuses his attention back to the song he’s working on and wonders if it could use some more bass. it’s only when he’s about to finalize the song does he realize you were talking about…someone else? spins around to see you lounging on the couch and asks who you were talking about because he wants to jog his memory. feels slightly satisfied when he sees a picture of himself. so he did hear you right. he didn’t.

seokmin

he’s more curious about who you consider to be hot apart from him, more than the fact that this other guy could be a threat to him. indulges in you talking about this guy and theorizes about who it could be till you finally just show him who you were talking about because he apparently couldn’t get a hint. oh. it’s him. he blinks. almost squeals. peppers your face with kisses because his mind is all blank except for you.

mingyu

pouts. becomes a grumpy baby. even if you’ve seen someone more handsome than him (which is impossible, by the way), do you have to rub it in his face? feels more antsy the longer you talk to him about this guy. pulls the puppy face till you show him who you’re looking at. seeing his face on your screen is the last thing he expected, somehow. feels relieved for a few seconds before he makes you promise never to scare him again like that. takes payment in the form of cuddles.

minghao

another one who knows this is one of your ideas to get him to react some way. nods along and even says oh, really? when you tell him about how handsome this guy is, and how you feel kind of shy when you just think about him. doesn’t even need to look at your phone to know there’s no one else you’re talking about, so he tilts your chin to make you face him and presses a kiss to your lips, asking you if that’d help make you less shy.

seungkwan

you’re seriously talking about another guy? right now? stares at you in disbelief, at the fact that you’d do this after he spent his morning making you breakfast and cuddling with you because you seemed a bit exhausted. he’s sure he’s stared enough to burn a hole through your head. you roll over with a laugh and show him who you were looking at. it’s his own self bent over the stove, trying to figure out how to switch it on. pouts and doesn’t face you till you lure him with kisses.

vernon

overhears you talking on the phone with your friend about this handsome guy you saw while you were out on a walk today evening. you don’t stop talking about how he looked at you, how nice his smile was, and how good he looked against the setting sun. his brain runs in loops trying to figure out which guy looked at you like that while your hand was in his. opens his phone to see some pictures you’d taken of him, with the sun setting in the back. smiles and presses a kiss to your head when you’re done with your call.

chan

instantly competitive. him being drunk doesn’t change the fact that he’s the most handsome man in the world. struggles to pull himself out of your embrace to see who you’re talking about so he can give both of you a piece of his mind, only to find a picture of himself smiling goofily at the camera. that’s me, he says, mind a bit slow. where’s the guy you were talking about? turns out he’s the one you’re talking about. snuggles back into you like nothing was ever wrong.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #fluff #coups #scoups #joshua #junhui #hoshi #wonwoo #woozi #dokyeom #minghao #mingyu #seungkwan #vernon #dino #waldau writes #ot13

393 notes · View notes

another-random-paradise · 3 days

Text

The future awaits

bringing up the future while you're together

characters: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim

Format: Headcanons

warnings: None that i can think off

Riddle

-You'd probably bring it up while drinking tea together

-He'd go quiet for a moment, deep in thought

-He is so caught up in making sure everybody follows the rules and studying, that he never really had the time to think about it

-He'd be very serious about it

-He wants to marry you in the future, that's for sure

-Probably wants a kid or two

-Honestly wants a very typical future, a house, a stable job, ect.

-I'm not really sure what Job he would want/have. Maybe he'd take after his mother and become a doctor, or maybe something to do with politics. I could also see him as a judge, due to his ability to memorise rules, or in this case laws, and his tendency to punish rulebreakers accordingly

-i feel like he wouldn't have preference about wether you work or not

-ALSO, If you are the one to bring up kids and marriage, especially if you start describing it in detail (Like your dream wedding, or what your kids could look like) he'd grow very flustered, very quickly

-Poor guy still isn't used to affection, even if you two have been in a relationship for quite a while already

-all in all, he'd take the question very seriously. He wants a typical, almost stereotypical, future

Leona

-You'd probably bring it up while he uses you as a pillow cuddling

-He'd scoff

-"Why are you worrying about that now??" or something along those lines.

- He most likely brushes you off in favor of sleeping

-or at least, that's what he'd tell you

-the question might actually keep him up a bit longer, he's seriously thinking about it

-In his dreams, of course, he'd be king and you'd be his consort, as you rule over the land together, admired by all. But that will sadly remain just a dream, and he knows it

-Instead he opts for wanting a quiet live, where the two of you can just laze around all day, everyday

-He probably doesn't want to live too close to his brother and sister-in-law, either on the opposite side of the palace, or in some sort of estate a bit further away (idk how moving out as royalty works tbh)

-I don't think he would want kids, too much work

-all in all, a quiet life where the two of you won't be bothered

Azul

-Immediately flustered, no matter how long you have already been dating

-I don't think he'll ever get used to affection

-another one that gets really serious, but this one is really flustered while he talks

-He'll definetly will want to continue the mostro lounge buisness, just outside of school. Maybe one day take over his mothers buisness too, so she can retire.

-He won't even realise it, but he might just start talking about your wedding, about wether you'll get married on land or in the sea, ect..

-tease him about it, and he'll put Riddle's hair to shame

-tbh he wouldn't want much to change from now, he wants to be with you, keep running a successful business, and stay close with the twins

Kalim

-Immediately gets excited

-If you're on the magic carpet, you'd have to hold onto him so neither of you fall off-

-Immediately starts rambling about all the things he wants to do with you in the future

-He wants a VERY big wedding, like the type that continues over multiple days, he just really wants to spoil you and show the whole world how much he loves you

-He most likely wants a big family, the man has like 40 siblings, he wouldn't be used to anything else

-He's already planning hundreds of party's you two will could hold in the future!!

-He probably won't shut up for a good few hours. Good luck

-You'd have a very annoyed Jamil the next day, because after you brought it up, he would not shut up about wedding plans and stuff. Jamil had to force him to sleep.

-He'd be even clingier than normally after this

First time writing and posting headcanons, kinda nervous-

Feedback is welcomed, just be nice please!! hope you enjoyed and have a nice day :)

269 notes · View notes

genderqueerpond · 2 days

Text

You know, I think Clara knew about Amy.

Not at first, of course, but Clara grew up with her --- that is, grew up reading Amelia Williams books. And they were precious to her, books she's read many times over the course of her childhood -- how else does she know exactly which chapter holds what in the book she gave Artie? Perhaps she has always felt connected to her, this moderately obscure children's fantasy author, following in the footsteps of E Nesbit; this contemporary (and sometime friend (oh yes!) ) of Edward Eager's; although not nearly as widely known as either of these. Perhaps because of her choice to publish openly under a "woman's name", thus, in the time in which she lived, relegating her books to the inferior realm of "girls' books", despite the more than equal balance of male viewpoint characters.

But Amelia Williams is different from these authors too -- often fantasy, but sometimes more like early science fiction, a barely- recognized pioneer in both genres. Her views were feminist and daring. In so many ways she was ahead of her time, and the innovations she imagined! almost as if she knew what the future would hold.

And if Clara knows and loves her books so well, she can hardly fail to recognize the most frequently repeated character archetype in them. especially after she rereads a few on a subconscious hunch, during that summer after the Maitlands found a permanent nanny and she insisted that before anything else, she go off and fulfill her original travel plans from 101 Places To See. (The Doctor purported to leave her alone to forge her own way with this, but was in actuality very bad at that, and kept popping up nearly every place she went.) She's Clara, she's clever, how can she fail to look up from her book and notice that the person who's just appeared out of nowhere to stand in front of her with a plate of jammie dodgers and a goofy smile has stepped directly out of the pages?

And then of course, there are the dedications. Sure, there's normal stuff like "to my daughter", "to my loving and patient husband", and "to my parents, who are children now" which is rather weird and whimsical, but fits in with the fantasy author's signature style of dream-like imagination.

But the majority of Amelia Williams' dedication pages say things like "to You", "to My Doctor", "to My Raggedy Doctor" "to my raggedy man" (weird but clearly connected to the other variants), and, cryptically, over and over again: "to you", "to you", "to you", "to you (wherever in time and space you are)".

There's "to my imaginary friend" and "to my imaginary friend, and to all children who have an imaginary friend" and "to my imaginary friend, and every child in the universe who's ever met him, or ever will". Nerds and English teachers have occasionally debated what, if anything, she meant by all this, and now Clara thinks she knows, but she can never say....

And then there are the nights that the Doctor wakes up crying out for "Amy!" and then refuses to talk about it when Clara asks, refuses to acknowledge ever even knowing an Amy, "well everyone shouts random things when they're asleep, it doesn't mean anything" and "I don't remember." if pressed for details about his dreaming. And later he might go off somewhere and cry quietly, reading a book he never lets Clara see.

And then he regenerates, and calls out for "Amelia!", "the first face this face saw."

There's newborn twelve, with his Scottish accent, letting her name slip. It's the first - and only - time he's spoken of her while awake and not actively dying. And Clara is too busy with the immediate threat to their lives to think about it in the moment, but at this point she at the very least has a hunch about the connection between him and the Scottish-American author with the rather opaque background --- that as far as anyone can trace it (although to be fair, no one really cares enough to try very hard) she and her husband just kind of appeared out of nowhere in pre-WWII New York. It seems kind of obvious, now, that the doctor would have had a hand in that.

And now with all the books everywhere, the library gradually migrating into the console room, what else is obvious is that he owns every single one of her books. multiple copies, first editions, last editions, signed copies, mass paperbacks, everything. There's a TARDIS key hidden in a well-worn, well-loved, tear streaked copy of The Cuckoo And The Doll's House, which Clara finds when she's cataloging all the locations of TARDIS keys, just in case she should ever need that information one day.

This all is enough for Clara to know. There doesn't really need to be any more proof, but there is. What totally and fully clinches it are the pictures. Tucked in the pages of another tearstained book (The Beast Below this time), are photographs of Amelia, looking just as she does in her black and white author photos, but younger, and in 21st century clothes. Elsewhere, later, she finds photo booth polaroids of a still younger Amelia, goofing off and smiling. Some of them feature another young man Clara doesn't recognize, and some of them feature the Doctor. He's wearing a tweed jacket instead of his purple wool, and no vest, but otherwise he is exactly the same as the Doctor she first met. The three of them hang off each other like old friends, like family.

idk how to end this.

#clara oswald #amy pond #augh i just! so many feelings about post-TATM writer Amelia #she made the doctor up and then she grew up to Make Him Up professionally #she created him she created him she created him #lavender thoughts #dw #ndw #doctor who #meta #ANOTHER dw ficlet/meta in one day i am on a roll #like six half finished ones in my drafts too btw

32 notes · View notes

neo-nomatrix · 11 months

Text

(My) Nuisance

Hobie brown x reader

word count: 964

find the rest of the mini series here

synopsis: You thought you hated Hobie, but for some reason you’re starting to like him just as much as you like Spiderman.

a/n: (maybe too much) british slang used

You hate your next door neighbor. No, no you loathe your next door neighbor. You think he is the worst person to possibly exist. His stupid flat decorations, his loud punk-rock music blasting at unruly hours, the way he would come back to his flat at 4 am stomping his boots yelling with his friends about their latest anarchist protest. But you hate nothing more than the way he looks at you.

Everytime you try yelling at him he opens his door with the cheekiest grin on his face. While you’re standing there fuming he’s leaning against the door panel looking you up and down. The worst part is how much he tries to smooth talk you.

“I already told you how annoying your music is, no one wants to hear that at 3 am alright? Some of us have work in the morning,” you complain, smoke practically coming out of your ears.

“Oh c’mon love it’s not that bad. Don’t have to be such a tosser ‘bout it. It messes up that pretty face of yours,” he says.

“Are you daft? You’re the one keeping everyone up at night with your dumb guitar,” you roll your eyes.

“It’s not that big a deal sweetheart. Y’know i'm starting to think you’re making up rubbish just so you can talk to me more. I’ll admit it’s pretty cute but you could just ask me out,” he leans closer to your flushed face.

“I don’t fancy you if that’s what you mean,” you scoff.

“Not saying that. I’m saying if you wanna snog me so bad you could just say so,” he shrugs.

You could burst out laughing. Kiss him? That’s fucking hilarious.

“You’re joking right? i’d rather die.”

“I don’t believe in comedy, love,” he says.

“Of course you don’t,” you mumble as you storm off back to your door.

You’ve decided he is the worst person ever. He doesn’t deserve your efforts and time.

You set your keys down and fall into bed as you hear amp feedback and the sounds of Hobie strumming his guitar. You can’t help but roll your eyes. How could someone be so incompetent?

You reach your hand over to where the bed and the wall meet to grab your Spiderman plush. You hate to admit it because it’s kind of dumb but you’ve always loved spiderman. Ever since you were a little kid you collected posters, figures, pins, and merchandise having to do with the superhero. Even now, your walls are decorated in spiderman posters, you own spiderman clothing, and even printed your keys to have a blue and red spider web on them.

There was something so nostalgic to the vigilante and his style that you had to adorn your room with touches of blue and red. You thought spiderman was the embodiment of “cool.” From his suit to the way he acted around criminals to the electric guitar on his back. Sure, a guitar was the main thing you hated about Hobie but Spiderman did it better. He made it work in the way Hobie dreams of.

You wake up to the loudest knock on your front door you’ve ever heard. You immediately know it’s him. You try to ignore the blaring pounding coming from your door but it keeps going. You force yourself to get up and answer the door. You hope you can open it, yell at him, then go back to bed.

To your dismay the second you open the door Hobie places his hand on the top of the wood, stopping you from moving it anywhere else.

“What do you want this early?” you groan.

“It’s like 9 am, love. But anyway-” He cuts himself off before finishing his sentence. You’re too groggy to notice that he’s staring inside of your flat. His eyes search the walls and decor in front of him.

“So, I take it you like Spiderman?” He laughs.

“That’s none of your business,” you sigh, crossing your arms.

He pushes his way inside of your flat, moving around like he’s looking for buried treasure. He picks up memorabilia and smiles at them. He holds up a Spider-Punk figurine and turns towards you.

“Spider-Punk huh?”

“Don’t touch my stuff! You know this is technically breaking and entering,” you scold him, taking the figure out of his hand.

He puts his hands in his pockets and just smirks at you. That stupid smirk, displaying half of his teeth and perfectly showing his lip ring.

“What do you want from me, Hobie?” you question after placing the figure back on its stand.

“Jus- Just wanted to apologize for last night,” he starts.

“You mean this morning? We talked at 1 am, remember?” You say, passive aggressively.

“Right, whatever. You’re… You’re right,” he exhaled, “I shouldn’t be blasting my music that early. It’s inconsiderate and rude to the people in my vicinity,” he breathes.

In the time you’ve known him you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say sorry. You’re taken aback, did he really apologize? And did he sound genuinely sorry?

“Oh, oh uhm thanks,” you sat, still skeptical a camera crew would come out laughing saying this whole thing was a prank.

“I wanted to see if you maybe wanted to come to my show tonight? We could get dinner after or whatever you want,” He scratches the back of his neck, he’s nervous.

“I’d like that, I guess,” you reluctantly say.

“Wicked. Uhm, i’ll be leaving then. Sorry again,” he says. Shooting finger guns at you and making his way out the door.

You smile, maybe, just maybe, Hobies getting to you. As he’s leaving you could swear you see some blue and red material with spikes on it slipping out of his pocket.

#spiderman x y/n #spiderman atsv #spiderverse x reader #spiderman x reader #hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #spider punk #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk x y/n #marvel x reader #spiderman atsv x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman x you

7K notes · View notes

livinginshambles · 10 months

Text

I'll reschedule | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: James faces the consequences of his actions. A confrontation goes wrong and you have a chat with Sirius.

Notes: Thank you guys for your kind comments! I hope I tagged everyone that wanted to be tagged. Also the parent part is very self-indulgent lmao

Part one Masterlist

________________

James spent the following days trying to get your attention and receiving a taste of his own medicine.

You gave him another smile that didn’t fully reach your eyes and he cursed at himself for somehow having your relationship feel so distant and awkward. He was your boyfriend for Merlin’s sake!

“I can’t, I’m-“

“-sorry, yeah. I know.” James almost let out a pained laugh at the irony of the situation.

��Oh how the tables have turned,’ James bitterly thought to himself in defeat. You leaned forward as if you were going to give him a kiss, his heart jumping at the thought.

He realised in horror that he couldn’t recall the last time he had given you a proper kiss on the lips and could do nothing but watch in disappointment as you changed your mind mid-step and left for whatever it was that you had planned, with nothing but a small wave.

James spent the next day in class stealing glances at you. You noticed it of course, but couldn’t bring yourself to look back, humiliation at his words still lingering in the back of your mind. ‘Why are feelings so complicated’, you groaned in dismay.

You sighed and buried your face in your hands, arms propped up by your elbow on your desk. You’d talk to him tomorrow. Tomorrow was the last day before Christmas holidays. If everything went south, you’d be able to escape for two weeks. Not that you needed that back up plan. Everything was going to be fine.

Everything was not fine.

“You were eavesdropping on us?!” James shouted out, an offended look on his face and his hands thrown in the air. You visible winced at his loud voice.

You couldn’t help but scoff at the fact that of all the things you said, what you finally confessed about your feelings, that that’s what he picked up on.

You stared at him in disbelief for a moment. Your mouth open while you tried to look for words.

“You’re really going to- you know what? Yes. And I’m sorry for eavesdropping alright? In fact, I too would’ve preferred not to have heard you guys say those horrible things, but I did hear it all, and you did say all that,” you shot back angrily.

“But if you wanted me to back off and be less of a clingy, high maintenance attention demanding loner, then maybe, just maybe,” you stressed the word maybe. “You could’ve pulled me aside and told me you were embarrassed of me in private, instead of telling all your friends except for me! That’s not how a relationship works, that’s cowardice.”

“Oh so you’re an expert on relationships now?” He scoffed. “How would you know how relationships are supposed to work, I’m the first bloody friend and boyfriend you’ve ever had! If not for me, you would have no one.” He spat out the last sentence and as soon as it left his mouth, he clamped his mouth shut and took two steps back in disbelief at his own words. Regret immediately setting in.

Your face was heating up, in embarrassment and anger. You took a few steps back in shock as well. You wanted to yell at him, tell him that you’d become friends with your potions partner recently, that he wouldn’t know that, because he’d been acting like an arse with his head stuck up in it, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to fight. You took a deep breath.

‘Count to ten, Y/N.’

James opened his mouth and closed it again, no words coming out, still shocked at himself. He felt like he was in a daze, that this was a bad dream.

The silence was too much, the tension too high. He half expected you to reach out and slap him across the face, but also knew you wouldn’t. So instead he stood there frozen, awaiting your reaction.

James could feel blood rushing in his ears before you finally broke the silence.

“That’s not how a relationship works for me,” you repeated calmly but firmly, completely disregarding his insult. This time however, you emphasized the last two added words.

James seemed to sober up alarmingly fast at that. He shot up in panic and shook his head in denial. “No, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean any of it! I’m not embarrassed of you, Darling. I’m not, I promise,” he tried, finally finding the words.

He looked at you pleadingly and watched helplessly as you pulled a hand through your hair in a distressed manner, jerking away from him when he reached out to you.

It was quiet again in the room. The only sounds your heavy breathing.

“It’s not working for me.” You eventually whispered, hurt evident in your voice at your sad realisation. You said it more to yourself than to him, but his ears caught it anyway.

James’ heart skipped in fear. The implication of your words were crystal clear to him. It smacked him in square the face and had him physically reel back. He stumbled back into the nearest wall. It hadn’t even occurred to him that you two breaking up was ever a possibility. You were madly in love with each other. And he loved you so incredibly much, you knew that, right? He felt nauseous.

You didn’t spare him another glance and stumbled away, desperate to get away from him. James’ knees buckled and he sunk to the floor, shock keeping the tears at bay for now.

Everything was really not fine.

“Prongs! Welcome back mate, I heard you’re a free man again!” Sirius greeted James with a cheer and a slap on the back when entered the common room. Sirius was wearing a big grin on his face.

James jerked away and furiously shook his head. “No, she- we haven’t broke up,” He insisted. “We had a fight b-but, we never officially said we were done, so we’re still- she’s still my girlfriend. So don’t say that, it's not true-“

Sirius noticed how distraught James actually was about the situation and the grin abruptly fell off his face, making space for concern. He put his hand on James shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. He threw a look at Peter and Remus who looked taken aback by his defensive tone, also looking concerned.

“Okay,” Sirius nodded. “She’s still your girl, Prongs. Understood.” James nodded back and then shook Sirius’ arm off his shoulder and went upstairs to their room, plopping down on his bed, smothering his head in his pillow where he could finally cry.

You took the train and left Hogwarts that very same day. You called your dad and he promised to come pick you up at the platform. When you saw him, the only one on the platform so late in the evening, you ran up to him and he held you tightly. “Come on, sweetheart,” he nodded in appreciation at the elf who brought your luggage and brought you home.

You sighed and plopped on your bed, face first into the mattress. Exhaustion downing on you all at once and you fell asleep within minutes.

Your mother knocked on the door, knowing that that sufficed as you were a light sleeper. “Honey?” She called. “I know it’s late, but I think you should eat something nonetheless.” You made a noise.

“That mean I can come in?”

You lift you head up so you could say yes and she came in with a bowl of soup. You gratefully accepted it and she took the liberty of sitting next to you.

“You want to tell me about it?”

“Not really,” you admitted and your mother gave you and understanding look. “Then we’ll keep you distracted for now. In fact, the day after tomorrow, your father and I are having dinner with the Black family. You could come with us.”

“But it’ll just be all business talk,” you groaned, placing your bowl of soup on your night stand.

“Yeah, well you know the Black family is the main investor in your father’s business, business talk is unavoidable. But you know what, it wouldn’t be just business. They said that they would love to meet you.”

‘Doubtful,’ you thought.

“I’ll think about it.” You replied.

“That’s okay, you have another day to consider it.” And with that, your mother kissed your forehead before leaving your room, taking the empty bowl with her. “Goodnight honey,” she said before closing the door gently. ‘Sirius was always spending his holidays at Hogwarts, so it’d be safe to go,’ you considered.

‘So the fates are really into proving me wrong, lately huh,” you thought to yourself as you spotted Sirius with a scowl on his face, standing with his parents in front of their manor to great you.

And so, before you know it, you were sitting at the end of the ridiculously long table, in front of Sirius. You wondered where his younger brother Regulus was. “Let the children sit together, business is boring to them anyways,” you father had said.

Though he hadn’t been wrong, you would pay to be part of the adult talks rather than sit here in awkward silence, avoiding Sirius’ eyes.

The past three days had been a rollercoaster for Sirius. First, he had been mildly annoyed at the letter that came with an owl that belonged to his mother. Then, he had been absolutely dreading going home. He also felt bad and concerned for James, because he was being a sad pile of bones. And when he saw you, surprise and guilt seeped in. A real rollercoaster.

Sirius kept staring intensely at you. Finally, you’ve had enough and you snapped at him. “What do you want.”

“I need to talk to you, privately.”

“Why would I talk with my ex's best friend?We have nothing to talk about, and I’d rather die than be in a room alone with an arsehole like you.”

“You’re not his ex.” He pointed out.

You raised your eyebrows at his words, inquiring him to explain himself.

“You’re not- You two are still together. I mean, you never officially said it was over. You’re still his girlfriend, he’s still your boyfriend. James is still holding on to that.” Sirius searched your face for reactions to that confession but found nothing.

“Fine, I guess I’ll just officially send him an owl then,” you replied dryly, done with his crap. You threw your napkin on the table and got up. You excused yourself, thanked Sirius’ mother for the food and walked out of the room. So much for this being a distraction from James.

“Wait, Y/N!” Sirius yelled out as he chased after you. You kept walking, neither slowing down, nor speeding up, as you walked in the direction of your house, despite knowing that it was an hour drive by car.

A heavy silence hung between you two as he walked next to you, both staring out in front of yourselves.

“It’s my fault.”

Now this made you look up at Sirius. You eyed him up and down sceptically, coming to a stop. “Don’t give yourself so much credit, Black. You’re definitely not my favourite person on this planet, but despite you talents at DADA, last I checked, you can’t cast the Imperio curse yet.” Sirius refrained from grinning at your retort.

“So unless you’re telling me that you’ve been using the polyjuice potion and posing as James Potter who has been a massive twat of a boyfriend for over a month, I highly doubt it’s your fault.” With that, you continued walking again.

“No, and no. You’re right, I guess.”

“I am.”

Sirius gave you a look and tried again. “Look, he was just all over you. And maybe I had to get used to Prongs being a taken guy, all mushy, but we all missed him. So I teased him a little,” he explained but hesitated at the end.

“You teased him a little,” you flatly repeated. “You teased him and it turned him into an asshole?”

“It was just a bunch of guys laughing about our whipped friend,” he paused. “Okay and some complaining,” he admitted. “I didn’t know he would straight up go to avoiding you because he was embarrassed to show affection in front of us though.”

You massaged your temples. “Okay first of all, you suck and you’re a shitty friend.” Sirius pulled a face. “Eh, deserved,” he scratched the back of his head.

“But my point still stands. James chose to lie to me by making up excuses to not have to be around me.” You huffed in frustration. “I’m not... I’ve never been in a relationship before, but I’m pretty sure that’s like, rule number one of things not to do.” You kicked against a pebble on the road.

“And then he goes and says horrible stuff about me behind my back. That’s probably rule number two,” you added, a frown on your face at the recollection of events.

“But if that wasn’t enough, he didn’t listen to me when I told him how I felt about it and instead yelled at me, trying to shift the blame on me, as if it’s my fault that I overheard you guys. Oh and also, he insulted me again! Though, in my face this time, I’ve got to give him that.” You mumbled the last part bitterly and looked back up at Sirius who awkwardly looked at his feet while listening to you rant.

“So no, Sirius. You were a shitty friend, but by no means the cause of our break up. That’s on James.”

“Please, you don’t understand,” Sirius pleaded again. “James is miserable alright? As in he’s kind of being pathetic right now, he refuses to believe you guys broke up. He keeps insisting that you’re still together, that he still has a chance to make up to you.”

It was your turn to look at your feet. Sirius continued. It was his turn to talk now and he felt he needed to help his friend. “He loves you so much. He really misses you.”

You wryly smiled at Sirius. “He tell you to say that?”

“No. Well, not explicitly.” Sirius patted his back pockets and fished a crumpled envelope out of it. He handed it over. When you opened it, you found a folded piece of paper that simply said ‘I am so sorry. I miss you and I love you so much.’ In James’ handwriting. You sighed.

“Look, I’m just trying to help my git of a friend who is madly, hopelessly in love with you. And I’m trying to make things right between you two because I am partially at fault. And I know you love him. He’s just being an big idiot.”

“Try ginormous.”

Sirius now openly grinned. Okay maybe you weren’t so bad after all.

“Will you please talk to him? I’m sure he will apologize because he regrets everything. I know he does. And if you decide you don’t want to be in a relationship anymore, you tell him. Just not by sending an owl right now before talking one more time, please.”

A car sounded its horns behind you and you turned around to see your mother and father. The car stopped next to you and the door opened. You turned to look at Sirius again. “Will you see James before I do?” You asked. Sirius nodded.

You handed him the envelope back. He hesitated to accept it. “Give him this. Don’t worry, I’m not breaking up with my boyfriend. I’ll talk to him at Hogwarts.” You reassured him.

Relieved at your words, Sirius took the envelope and you gave him a thumbs up. “You’re not so bad, Black,” you said as you got in the car.

“Back at you!” He called after you. He watched your car drive off.

He checked inside the envelope and found the folded piece of paper. When he unfolded it, he found a uno reverse card stuck in between.

James was nervous. He impatiently paced around on platform 9¾, having arrived there way too early. Sirius had moved in with him over the holidays, running away from home and had brought a certain envelope with him. James heart had leaped when he found your card, putting it carefully under his pillow at night, carrying it in his pocket during the day.

“Merlin, Prongs would you just stand still,” Sirius commented from where he sat, leaning against a wall, cigarette twirling between his fingers.

“I can’t, Padfoot. This is literally the moment that will define the rest of my life!” James exclaimed dramatically, but walked over to Sirius and plopped down next to him anyways, mimicking Sirius’ action by twirling the game card around.

“Mate, you’ll be fine. She literally let you know she loved you too.” He nodded at the object James’ hands.

“But what if she loves me, but realised that she wants to be with someone who hasn’t acted like a stupid idiot?” James’ heart was racing at the thought. He’d spent the entire first week wallowing misery.

Other students started to arrive at the platform and James got back up to start pacing around again.

You softly pushed him away and immediately, the stream of self-deprecating words, apologies and other rambles flowed out of James’ mouth. You pecked his lips again to shush him.

You spotted each other at the same time. You offered him a hesitant smile but it was enough for James to take off in a sprint towards you.

He stopped in in front of you, unsure and apologies ready on the tip of his tongue. Someone called your name behind you and you looked back to see Wylan.

Turning to face James again, you offered him a fond expression and tiptoed to press a peck to his lips. James immediately responded to the kiss and he sighed in relief, shoulders less tense.

“We’ll talk later, okay?”

No, not okay, he wanted to say but you cut him to it.

“I’ve got a friend waiting for me,” you beamed up at him in pride and he melted at the sight. “Okay,” he relented, making a mental note to tell Remus and Peter to apologize to you too.

“You’ll let me know when you have time?” He asked.

“I’ll make time for you,” you assured him. “We’ll talk after supper, if you don’t have any plans of course,” you teased.

James shook his head laughing. “I won’t,” He replied earnestly.

“You don’t know that! Like what if a famous Quidditch player wants to meet you after supper, huh? Then what?” You challenged him. He shrugged.

“I’ll reschedule.” He grinned.

You shake your head and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. He watched you head in the direction of your Ravenclaw friend who had his back turned to you and walked back to Sirius.

“Wylan!” You skipped over and slung an arm around him, ruffling his already messy hair. He looked up as if he’d been caught doing something wrong and relaxed with a smile when he saw it was just you. You laughed at his skittish behaviour. “So how was your holiday?”

“I actually got a book on alchemy for Christmas. I brought it with me, thought maybe you’d help me?” He asked nervously, a bit embarrassed at his request.

“Oh none of that,” you waved your hand at his antics. “I’ve been helping you with dyslexia for a while now, of course I’ll help!” He offered you a grateful smile.

“You have it with you now?”

Wylan nodded and pulled out a ridiculously heavy book. You whistled. “Better get started on that right away, huh. We should find a seat.”

You two moved to get on the Hogwarts Express, but before you disappeared inside, you looked back at James to see he did the same thing. You exchanged smiles, he dramatically made a deep bow and mouthed ‘milady’. Then he turned around and pumped his fist in the air, grinning from ear to ear.

Sirius patted James on the back when he returned. “See, nothing to worry about. Right back to snogging your girl,” he laughed out loud, but no malicious intent this time.

“Still a long way to go, though,” James admitted, but he wore a fond smile on his face at the thought of you, all giddy inside. “But we’ll be alright, I think. I’ll be the best bloody boyfriend out there you know. You better get used to the snogging. And be nice to her, she really means a lot to me.”

Sirius pushed him. “I’ll have you know that we’re on extremely good terms now,” he exaggerated.

James snorted. “No, you’re not,” he immediately said.

Sirius grinned, having fun riling him up. “Why don’t you go ask her yourself, if you don’t believe me.”

James and Sirius walked towards their own compartment where they waited for Peter and Remus, arguing about it.

About two months later, Gryffindor had won the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. You ran down the stands and up to James, jumping in his arms. He fiercely kissed you, his friends and teammates hollering at him.

“Good luck charm,” he cheekily mumbled against your lips while flipping the others off, earning laughter. When the celebratory party was finally over, and the marauders and you retreated to their dorm, James instantly pulled you onto his lap, locking you in with his arms wrapped around you so tightly that you wriggled to get some air. Jokingly, you tapped out three times in mock surrender.

“And the winner is...”, Sirius drumrolled. “James Potter!” Remus and Peter jokingly clapped and cheered.

“Means you can let her breathe now, Prongs.” You mouthed a thank you at Sirius.

James pouted, offended. “Since when are you two such good buddies,” He complained.

Sirius stuck his tongue out. “Wouldn’t you like to know, lover boy. I told you, Y/N and I are on extremely good terms now.” He winked at you.

“Thought you’d be more happy that your girlfriend and brother could get along. I mean, figured it won’t be long until she becomes my sister-in-law.”

@moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @fanboyluvr @spiderman-stilinski @magical-spit @livelaughlivedilfs @nyenye @fluffybunnyu @prongs-moon @xcinnamonmalfoyx @akila-twt @treestarrrrrrrr @mrsmaybank13 @ireallywannasleep127 @imarimon @targaryenmoony @jessicamellarky @scriptsofthorns @lynbubble @variant-lokitty @elsie-bells @chichi3095 @my-beloved-fandoms @quackitysdrugdealer @pleasingregulus @mindflay3r @littlenerdybee

#james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #marauders era #james potter #james potter angst #james potter fic #james potter imagine #marauders fanfic #marauders

5K notes · View notes

bomber-grl · 6 months

Text

Mike Schmidt relationship headcannons !

Pairing(s): Mike Schmidt x Gn!Reader

Note! Has some plot | This is my relationship headcannons for movie Mike, stating this because I just might make video game Michael Afton headcannons aswell in the near future

Very closed off and not looking for a relationship

He had hired you to take care of Abby when he was away and that’s how you two began getting closer.

Not the best conversation starter, however when you gave him the opportunity to speak about the dream theory he starts going on about it.

Then he apologizes and begins feeling a bit unsure and awkward.

It never really advanced from there and he’d almost constantly apologize and reassure that he’d pay you soon, but you never really cared for it.

Really peaked his interest when he realized that Abby had really grown to like you and began inviting you to do things with the both of them.

You, of course accepted and eventually Mike had started developing feelings for you.

Just as you did for him.

He didnt act on them at first.

Primarily Because he doesn’t see himself in a relationship, especially not with someone like you with him.

You were amazing, and he was a sad grown man who had to care for his little sister, and not even in a way he saw proper.

So of course he shuts it down, telling himself it’d be better off that way.

However, some way, somehow you got involved with Freddy’s pizzeria and you not only managed to save him but also Abby.

Then from there it just went uphill.

He got a better job, better pay, and is able to connect with Abby easier.

Not only that but the custody battle has been leaning in his favor.

He had no one to thank but you.

You’d take Abby to school, occasionally cook for them, and you were always reliable.

One fateful evening you and Mike were just hanging out in the living room.

Talking and just watching whatever was on TV.

Then he brought up your relationship, and stated that he’d really like to start one with you, a romantic one, that is.

You of course, said yes, and he was relieved and happy at your reaction.

But then Abby came to mind, what would she think?

You asked him this almost immediately.

But he reassured and said that the final push was actually when Abby hinted/teased her older brother about your potential relationship, then ran off.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and an awkward atmosphere hung in the air but then Mike went to hold you hand and it made it semi better.

The next morning you almost immediately told Abby and she was so happy.

Which really relieved the both of you.

Things had changed, albeit subtly.

And although Mike wasn’t the most physically affectionate, probably due to him being pretty much touched starved and traumatized.

He tried his best to convey his affection towards you with teasing and joking around.

You’d often just enjoy the others company and bond mostly with Abby around.

If you were to ever do something even a little bit flirty around her she’d immediately be grossed out.

Which was funny, and was mentally noted to ever do again in her presence, even if it was just a kid friendly comment.

Your guy’s first kiss was pretty intimate

I mean Mike had never seemed much interested in kissing or doing anything further down the road.

However, after a particularly draining day, and horrible weather outside, Mike had offered you to stay for the night.

Abby was so excited and the three of you played with her just a little bit over her curfew then sent her off to bed.

When you were finally able to be alone, Mike, very awkwardly and a bit bashful, offered for you to sleep in his bed.

You, like the amazing person you were, rejected and said that it was fine and that he should just sleep there.

Not completely understanding that Mike didn’t mean separate, but together.

Once he bashfully explains that all you can do is mutter out an “oh” and go along with it.

Pretty awkward as you both just lay down as stiff as rods in silence.

Then you guys begin talking.

And it’s just you two talking about whatever at like 2 a.m, trying your best to keep it down.

If you decide to be bold and make a move by asking if you could cuddle with him, then he’d hesitantly agree.

Again, not because he hates you, but because he’s an awkward guy.

So once you’re settled in each others arms you start talking about each others traumas and mostly hidden things.

It’s the sleep deprivation getting to you guys.

Well once you’re both finished venting and just being vulnerable you decide to make a move and lean forward, giving him plenty of time to move if it’s not wanted.

But he didn’t, and the clash of your lips followed soon after and how drawed out it was won’t be mentioned by either of you either.

Things not only start changing and he’s side hugging you more (publicly)

Although not really into pda

And be more affectionate (as he can)

I’m sure at one point you get so comfortable with one another that although awkward moments occur, most of them spent together is just you saying cringe stuff and making him regret ever making it out alive of Freddy’s.

From then on, not only do you tease and get a worthwhile reaction but he’s always hugging and giving you cheek kisses in private.

He’s also grown fond of cuddling, just because of how close he gets to be to you.

If you were to ever tell him he’s hot.

He’d get really taken back but then laughs it off and says whatever.

(Saying this because I know those fans of him exist 😭)

Honestly it’s kind of hard for you to tell when he’s being sarcastic or not😔

He’s always making snarky and joking remarks and hard to tell when he’s just being his sassy self.

Honestly home dude is just trying his best and his relationship with you really lightened up his life even more.

Note! Should I make a pt 2 with Mike as your husband?

#gn reader #female reader #male reader #fanfic #fluff #fanfic fluff #fnaf micheal #fnaf mike #fnaf movie #fnaf fanfic #fnaf fandom #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #five nights at freddy's #relationship headcanons #fnaf #sassy man apocalypse

2K notes · View notes

babyleostuff · 5 months

Text

their s/o having a nightmare | hip hop unit

𐙚 seungcheol

cheol is a heavy sleeper, an earthquake could be happening and he’d sleep through it, BUT when it comes to you, it’s like he has a sixth sense that notices any shifts in your mood, even if he’s asleep. and knowing him, cheol would be worried sick seeing you so distraught, as your eyes looked frantically around the room, while you tried to reach for him in a frenzy.

something about you being scared and frightened in your sleep, in your most vulnerable state, made his heart ache so badly. his panicked state matching yours wouldn’t help a lot in calming you down, but the weight of his arms around your waist and his lips repeatedly pecking your forehead would be a whole another story.

“s okay, you’re okay baby,” your boyfriend whispered, kissing the top of your head, as he tightened his arms that were wrapped around your waist. you thought you were quiet enough not to wake him, but it seemed that muffling your sobs with the sleeve of his hoodie you were wearing, letting the tears run slowly down your cheeks wasn’t enough to deceive cheol’s protectiveness, even in his sleep.

“sorry for waking you up,” you murmured, your voice muffled by your hiccups and his shirt, as he cradled your head to his chest. he hushed you immediately, pecking your forehead repeatedly. “do you want to talk about it? need me to get you some water? should i get you an extra blanket? want me to turn on the lights?” he asked, his breath tickling your cheek, as he swayed you back and forth. kkuma, almost as if she could sense something was wrong, yawned and stretched, padding over to where you were sitting in her dad’s arms.

at some point you had to start calming him down. his worried pout was endearing, but you didn’t want to keep cheol up all night, and you knew there was no way he’d go back to sleep in this state, especially because you were still shaken up by your bad dream.

“i just want to make sure you’re okay,” he said, running his hand over your back. “just hold me like this, please?” there was no safer place for you than seungcheol’s arms, and not even a nightmare could change that.

𐙚 wonwoo

wonwoo would wake up while you’d try to sneak out of the bed (he’s not as cuddly in his sleep as cheol or gyu are, but he always has an arm draped over your waist or tummy, so of course he’d immediately notice if you’d try to wiggle your way out of his grip). usually he’d just go back to sleep, thinking you were going to the bathroom or to get a glass of water, but you’d be shaking too much for it to be normal. wonwoo would reach for you, pulling you back to his chest, cradling the back of your head with his hand.

i believe wonwoo would be even more worried than cheol, he’d never show it as much as him, but his heart would break as he’d hold your shaking body in his arms. (i don’t know if you’ve seen that tik tok where he checks up on seungkwan after he hit him on accident or something, AND OMG THE BOBA EYES AND WORRY ON HIS FACE EIUFHEUIRFHE).

“here, put your hand over my heart,” wonwoo gently grabbed your shaking hand, and placed it on his chest, right over his heart. “you see, that was just a bad dream, honey,” he whispered, his voice deep and soothing, still laced with sleep. “everything’s okay.”

you nodded, resting your head in the crook of wonwoo’s neck, as you tried to match your erratic breathing with his heartbeat, while he kept petting the back of your head with one hand, and rubbing soothing circles into your hip with the other. surrounded by his arms and familiar warmth, you snuggled further into his embrace, inhaling his comforting scent that always felt like home.

“what if i read a bit to you?” wonwoo pressed a kiss to your temple, smoothing out your bed-hair.

“no, won, you have work tomorrow morning,” you whispered, your face still hidden in his neck. “you should go to sleep.”

without saying anything, wonwoo placed you between his legs, as he fixed the pillows behind him, so he could rest comfortably against the headboard, and grabbed the book he was currently reading from the nightstand. “do you need an extra blanket? or maybe you want me to make you some tea?”

you smiled, grabbing his hand that was resting against your tummy, and run your thumb over his knuckles - the same ones that were ready to fight with whatever made you so scared in your dream. “no, wonwoo, everything is perfect,” you whispered. “thank you.”

“of course,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

𐙚 mingyu

gyu can’t physically sleep without you, you’re wrapped securely in his arms through the whole night, whether you like it or not, so he’d immediately know that something was wrong. at first, he’d be a bit confused, sleep still clouding his mind, why he couldn’t feel your body weight on his, and he’d try to reach for you pouting angrily, because how dare you to move away from him.

when he’d find you shaking and struggling to catch your breath, mingyu would be up and alert in an instant, ready to fight whoever and whatever made you so distressed. and mingyu would try to act as composed as he could, even though he’d be a worried mess on the inside.

“baby,” you heard your boyfriend whine behind you, probably from the lack of your warmth next to him. “where ‘r you,” he sighed, lifting his head up, just to drop it onto his pillow a second later. “come back.”

you exhaled slowly, trying to calm your breathing, because you knew mingyu - no matter how tired he was, he’d immediately notice that something was wrong. he just came back home from tour and needed a full night of sleep, you couldn’t make him worry. “i’m right here, love. go back to sleep,” you tried your best to sound as normal as you could, and hoped mingyu would be too tired to notice how your voice shook.

“no,” he murmured, his voice muffled by his pillow. “come back here,” he reached out and made grabby hands at you with his eyes still closed. if you weren’t so shaken up because of your dream, you’d take a photo of him (which would probably become your new wallpaper), and smother his puffy cheeks in kisses. “wait a second,” he said, finally opening his eyes, sensing that something was wrong, when you didn’t snuggle back against him.

a couple of minutes later you were all wrapped up in at least three blankets (to protect you from the monsters, mingyu’s words) and your boyfriend’s arms that securely held you against his chest. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” he mumbled, bumping his nose against yours. “you’re safe now, my baby.”

𐙚 vernon

when he sleeps, he sleeps like a log (vernon needs his beauty sleep), so you’d be a bit hesitant to wake him up. you knew he rarely got a full eight hours of sleep, so you didn’t want to disturb him just because of your nightmare, but at the same time you needed some comfort. you’d cuddle up to him, throwing one of your arms over his tummy, which would wake him up a bit, alarmed by the weight on his body (it wasn’t often that you cuddled while sleeping, so his sleep clouded mind noticed something was wrong).

thanks to him being so relaxed and composed, vernon would be excellent at calming you down, plus he always gets a bit clingier when seeing you so upset, so you’d fall asleep again in no time.

“ratatouille is so much better than cars, though,” vernon whispered, his lips tickling your temple, as he placed occasional pecks there. “i could watch that movie over and over again and never get bored of it.”

you giggled quietly as you listened to your boyfriend rant about something he definitely shouldn’t be talking about in the middle of the night on a random wednesday. it was all of you fault, and although vernon was quick to shut your apologies down, you still fell bad for waking him up when you knew he needed to sleep. plus, you were a bit embarrassed by the whole situation.

“nightmares suck, and there is no shame in feeling scared. i’m happy you woke me up,” he said, holding your head in his hands, so you wouldn’t escape his gaze.

vernon knew exactly how to calm you down, he noticed early in your relationship how you became putty in his arms whenever he talked about movies. it wasn’t your fault he looked so adorable ranting about something he loved os much. rubbing your cheeks to get the dried tears off of them, you snuggled further into your boyfriend’s side, waiting for what unpopular opinion he’d state next.

“are you sure you’re okay, babe? you don’t need me to grab a glass of water for you or anything?”

“i’m okay, seriously. just… just keep talking.”

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag @jeonghansshitester @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @soul-is-a-strange-kid @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @f4iryjjosh @isabellah29 @hafsah-ali @mrswonwooo @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @chillseo @bangantokchy @hrts4hanniehae @haecien

1K notes · View notes

foldingfittedsheets · 5 months

Text

When I was young I was dating this absolute cocknob right as I graduated high school. More on that later.

As a present ostensibly to me (but mostly my folks) I was whisked away after graduation to spend two weeks in Europe with my parents. The plan was to see London, Paris, and Heidelberg.

I was moody and a teenager and was largely disgruntled by this fabulous adventure. I went along with sullen foot dragging and black looks. I commandeered my reprehensible boyfriends enormous black hoodie and wore it on the trip. At the start of our jaunt into London I mentioned offhandedly to my mom that it was burning when I peed.

“You’re just dehydrated, and your period is about to start.”

She was right on both counts. I upped my water content, and had my period (which may have contributed to my overall ill humors.)

So we found ourselves in a tiny hotel in Paris, a week into our jaunt, when I repeated, “Man, it just really burns when I pee.”

“What?!” my mom demanded.

“I told you like a week ago that it was burning.”

“Augh! Now we have to go to the hospital!” she proclaimed.

“What?! Why?”

“Because,” she snapped, “You have a bladder infection.”

More bickering ensued, and my temperament was not improved by knowing I’d told her I was having an issue a week ago and been ignored.

My dad heard about the itinerary shift with resignation and we trooped down the narrow stairs as a family to ask the concierge where the nearest hospital was.

The absolutely lovely man at the desk was immediately so concerned when we asked for directions. “Is everything okay?” he asked with very genuine sympathy and I muttered that everything was fine, we just needed a quick visit.

Lucky for us the hospital was only a few blocks away. We walked there and the building was massive, home to what appeared to be several separate wings but no obvious main entrance.

We wandered inside and it was like a weird dream. There was no one around. Huge echoing corridors met us as we peered in vain for a front desk or possibly signs. We searched with increasing frustration for anyone to talk to and somehow found ourselves in some tiny back offices.

A woman sat at her desk and looked bewildered to see three lost Americans approaching her. She greeted us and as a family we all simultaneously realized the massive flaw in our current course.

You see, dear reader, we did not speak French. My dad and I both spoke German. I inquired politely if she also spoke German and she shook her head looking increasingly cornered. We asked if she spoke English.

“Leetle…?” she replied.

“My daughter has a bladder infection! Blad-der?” My mother declared this at a high volume as if volume alone could bridge the communication gap, while simultaneously miming over my stomach, circling where she presumed my pelvis was under the gigantic black sweatshirt.

The woman’s expression turned extremely skeptical and she slowly repeated “Bladder…” She scrutinized me for a moment then said, “You go…. This?” And pointed to something purple on her desk.

“The purple signs?” my dad asked.

She nodded and we set off. I was stewing with resentment at my mom for having ignored my first complaint when we were in a country that spoke English. And also generalized hostility about being on the trip and the object of miming. Now here we were in a French hospital, lost and unable to communicate. I also was under no illusions that someone who didn’t know the word for purple would have any clue what bladder meant.

And slowly I realized what had actually happened as I peered at the purple signs. My mother circling my stomach with her hands, gesturing to my middle. The woman’s skeptical face.

“Hey mom,” I chirped, syrupy and smug. “I don’t speak French. But I do know that it’s a Latin based language. And wouldn’t you know, but that purple sign looks an awful lot like it says ‘maternity’ to me.”

“Shut up!” she snapped.

A few minutes later we stood surrounded by the moans of pregnant people and the cries of fresh new lungs wailing at their first taste of cold air.

I smiled sweetly at my disgruntled mother.

Luck was with us however. A nearby father noticed us and came over to ask if we needed help. With perfect English he gave us clear directions.

As we finally approached the right area for walk in services it was clear how we’d missed it the first time. A large swathe of the front of the building was covered in tarps. A huge wall sized window was broken, and construction was taking place, but at least it had a bustle of people and a clear line. We sat down in the queue of chairs.

While we sat some police officers came in. They walked up to a man ahead of us in line and with few words exchanged they handcuffed and led him politely away.

I was genuinely so out of reality. Every new thing that happened was like a bizarre dream from the empty hallways to the maternity ward and now this tarp strewn waiting room in which people could just be calmly arrested.

It was a shock to me then when we reached the front and the nurse spoke with perfectly unaccented English to assess me. Not only did she know bladder but a whole slew of other medical words I couldn’t guess at. I peed on a stick and we waited.

When we got the results she told me it was good because they could give me antibiotics today for my now confirmed infection, but bad because I’d need the doctor to sign off. I nodded and my mom and I were escorted to yet another small room to wait.

When the doctor arrived I felt suddenly gangly and awkward. I’m not tall but I towered over this tiny French woman who radiated calm composure. She seemed to be around my grandmothers age. She looked up at my blushing face and said, “Bladder infection?” Her English had a much stronger accent than the nurse but with the same medical competence.

I nodded.

She nodded too and we sat in a still contemplative moment on my UTI.

“Do you have… boyfriend?”

My face was on fire, every cell of me wanting to flee from this tiny perfect old woman. I nodded.

She nodded too. We sat still in the knowledge that I had a boyfriend and a UTI.

“Do you and your boyfriend do… it?” Her delicate accent stretched it into “eet.”

I don’t know if she didn’t know the word for sex or if she thought saying “it” was kinder but I wanted to melt into the floor and cease to exist to escape my increasing mortification and her meaningful pause. I nodded.

“Okay,” she said kindly. “When you and your boyfriend do… it… you must make pee pee.”

I writhed slightly under the psychic damage of this elegant medical professional saying “pee pee” and I nodded more emphatically hoping she’d desist this torture.

She continued. “If you and your boyfriend do… it… five times? You make five pee pees. If you do it ten times, you make ten pee pees.”

My face had never been hotter, all the blood in my body had volcanoed to my head, pounding in my ears and valiantly attempting to give me an aneurism to end my suffering. There is no mortification as acute to a teenager as an adult talking about sex and here was this medical professional telling me about… it.

Meanwhile, my mother. Who should have been regretting her poor parenting and reflecting on her neglect in failing impart this vital part piece of sex ed to her kid. Alas, she was laughing herself sick the corner. She added to my embarrassment by quietly repeating “pee pee” and “it” under her breath as she wheezed and chortled.

The doctor patted my hand kindly and handed me the antibiotics. I got to spend the rest of my trip in Europe avoiding direct sunlight and listening to my mother parrot “Do you do… eet?”

#ramblies #funny #story #writing #teenage angst #there’s a couple stories I tell that my betrothed has to hear on repeat cause they’re party pleasers #this is one such #ffs foibles

1K notes · View notes

therealpie02 · 3 months

Text

To catch a chance

Pairings: mafia!Yunho x fem!reader

Summary: You married a “golden retriever” in the mafia world. The most smiling and polite mafia boss, the most desirable son-in-law among all your friends. But he wasn't looking for intimacy with you. Warm on the outside, cool on the inside. You decided to destroy the barrier standing between you. All you had to do — get down on your knees.

Word count: 2,6k

Genre: smut 18+

Warnings: it’s just a fiction! soft dom!Yunho, best friends to lovers, nickname (princess), oral sex (m receiving), cream pie, fingering, unprotected sex, kind of breeding kink, dirty talk, aftercare, let me know if I missed something!

a/n: friendly reminder English isn’t my native language <3

————————————————————————

"I needed a decent match".

His words echoed in your head. He needed a decent match, not a wife.

Why did he choose you? You've been friends since childhood. Your first marriage was unsuccessful and you got divorced. Almost immediately after your divorce, Yunho married you. You're his wife. But he didn't touch you. As if he was afraid. You slept in the same bed. You kissed once under the crown at the wedding, didn't he want you? Is this marriage doomed to fail too?

It was after midnight, but you couldn't sleep. You dreamed of intimacy with Yunho, of his touch. You got out of bed and, without even bothering to put on a bathrobe, walked out of the bedroom into the dark hallway. At the end of the corridor, a light was streaming from under the door of your husband's office. You knocked and walked right in without waiting for an answer. You'll get everything you want tonight.

One unsuccessful marriage is enough, where the husband did not touch you, because he loved and fucked his maid. It's enough to be ignored by Yunho, your childhood friend and current husband. You loved him. But he?

Yunho was sitting in his chair at the table. His blond hair was tousled, as if he had run his hand through it many times. His jacket and vest were thrown on the sofa, the top two buttons of his white shirt were unbuttoned, and the sleeves were rolled up, exposing strong arms. He didn't bother to take off his gun holster. Yunho was doing business on his laptop, looking tired.

"Is something wrong?" he looked up at you. His voice was hoarse and low, and that made you even more determined to distract him from his work and lure him upstairs to bedroom.

"I just wanted to ask when you're going to bed," you said as calmly as possible as you walked around the table and stopped next to his chair. Yunho leaned back and his eyes slid from your bare legs to your face. He was obviously attracted to your body, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

"I have a lot of things that require special attention."

You nodded, reached for his laptop, and slammed it shut. Yunho raised his eyebrows.

"Y/n, I really need to..." he trailed off as you bent over him and slowly knelt down, wrapping your hands around his hips. You started massaging him, looking at him with your eyes wide open.

You saw how he struggled with himself. And he lost. Yunho relaxed in his chair and allowed himself to grin. You almost screamed with joy.

"Can't your job wait?"

Yunho's eyes darkened with desire. The bulge in his black trousers gradually grew as he looked at you, and you had to hide your smile. The most desirable groom wanted you.

"Do you want to offer me something?" He asked in a flat voice, trying to sound disinterested. The tight cock in his pants, of course, betrayed him treacherously. You covered his erection with your palm through the fabric.

"I do not know," you replied, continuing to massage him.

"I don't believe you," Yunho smiled grimly and wrapped his arms around your neck. He pressed his mouth against yours. You gasped in surprise, and his tongue slipped inside.

To put it mildly, you were a little confused about what happened. Your hand gently pulled him away from your face and pressed against his cheek.

"Why did you ignore me?!"you asked the question a little louder than you planned. But you had mixed feelings.

"In order for you to come to me yourself," he replied softly, and sadness flashed in his eyes. He took your hand in his and pressed it harder against your cheek.

"I've always wanted you to be there for me. Y/n, we've been together since we were kids. I wanted to be worthy to marry you. But in the pursuit of power, I lost the opportunity to be with you."

He talked about the time when he left the city to work and upgrade his status to boss. When you found out about your marriage in his absence. You didn't love your fiance, you rarely saw each other and talked at events, but your parents claimed that it was the best match for you. You thought over time you might have at least mutual respect, if not love, that you could work together on this marriage. If he hadn't trampled on everything with his actions, which you didn't intend to put up with.

"I didn't love him and you know it," you said, looking straight into his eyes.

"How was I supposed to know, Y/n? I didn't want to impose on you, in the end we got married because of my selfish desire to be with you." He stopped to reach your ear and whisper. "I didn't want you to belong to anyone else anymore. Only for me."

Your parents easily agreed to a second marriage, only to have you remarried.

So Yunho has wanted you all this time. How long ago? Damn it, you got mad and pushed his face away.

"You're a real asshole! I thought friendship was bothering you! Do you have any idea how much I've been thinking about you? That maybe you don't see me as a wife, only as a sister, a friend and a worthy match for yourself? Do you have any idea how angry and upset I was when on our wedding night you just lay down on the bed next to me?"

He just smirked at your outrage. It wasn't your good childhood friend, it's not a golden retriever in front of you now. Now he was a mafia boss and your husband.

"But look where you are now." He smiled with all his teeth, as if this was an ordinary friendly conversation. "You are kneeling in front of me and dreaming of my touch, this is a strong proof that you care about me. Isn't it a wonderful start for a new stage in our relationship?"

You took a shaky breath, wild desire had already taken over your mind and you couldn't think of anything else but Yunho and what he was going to do to you.

He pulled down the zipper and pulled out his hard cock. You gasped at his size. You couldn't wait to try him. And you wondered if he could fit inside you.

Yunho stroked cock several times, running his thumb over the head, already shiny with pre-cum, before circling your lips with it. It's like a confirmation that you're only his. You licked your lips, feeling his taste on you, biting your lips with lust, and Yunho sucked in a sharp breath.

"Y/n, don't tease me."

Leaning forward, you slowly licked his trunk from the base to the head before sticking your tongue into the small hole and tasting it. Yunho took you by the head and gently held you in place as you ran your tongue around his cock over and over again, deliberately barely touching, grinning in thought. The fingers in your hair twitched, and he gave you a little push forward.

"Suck my dick, princess" for the first time in many years, he called you by that nickname.

You confidently wrapped your lips around the head and began to suck, running your tongue around it. Yunho watched you through half-closed eyelids, massaging your scalp. You took it deeper and then started moving your head up and down. Judging by his reddened ears, he liked it. Yunho was staring at you. He began to swing his hips and tightened his grip on your hair as you sucked him faster.

"I'm close," he warned.

You didn't stop, and soon you felt Yunho's tension from the orgasm that engulfed him. His cock twitched and he poured into your mouth. You swallowed his cum while continuing to suck. Yunho moaned, and you held him in your mouth until he softened. Your own desire was throbbing deep inside you, just a little more and it would start dripping onto the floor.

He looked at you with bleary eyes and smiled. His hand grabbed your chin, forcing you to get to your feet with him. Yunho didn't leave a single centimeter of free space between you, he wanted to be as close to you as possible. You were embarrassed by his gaze and tried to avoid his eyes, but the fingers on your chin tightened.

"I'll never let you go again, Y/n, do you understand?" You nodded.

Your heart was racing from the sexual tension that was flying between you. His lips found yours, stopping your thoughts. His kiss became stronger, grabbing you by the hips and lifting you onto his desk. You squealed in surprise. Yunho sat your ass right on the edge and spread your legs. Your nightgown was pulled up and he could see how wet you were. He grinned as he pulled your underpants down.

"You won't need this anymore." His gaze settled on your pussy. His index finger began to tease you slightly before plunging into your wet cunt, drawing out your arousal.

You were trembling with excitement and moaned when he slid two long fingers into you. Your walls wrapped around him, squeezing your fingers in an iron grip. He started fucking you slowly and you grabbed his shirt. Yunho stared at your pleading face.

"Do you trust me, Y/n?" he pushed his fingers deeper, touching your sweet spot.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, oh my god Yunho." You could hardly think.

"Aren't you afraid of me?"

"No, why should I be afraid?"

"Because I really want to fuck you so much that you can't walk for a week. Would you mind if I..."

Your wild and unbridled kiss interrupted him. There's never been a man you've wanted more than him. You trusted him with your secrets and desires as a child, you trusted him with your body and love now.

Yunho had enough of that to answer in order to lay you back on the table in the next second. The other hand lowered the straps of your nightgown, exposing your breasts and he pressed his lips to your nipple. You screamed and jerked your hips from the surging sensations of fingers inside you and a painful grip on your nipple. Yunho sucked your breast hard, playing with the nipple with his tongue, then biting with his teeth, which will surely leave traces.

"I've wanted to taste your boobs for so long, I can't wait for them to start pouring milk." he smiled the warmest smile in the world. Oh, damn it, everything inside you trembled from the need to cum after those words.

He enjoyed every part of your skin that he kissed and bit, enjoyed how your walls tightened around his fingers, how your ass arched over the table, enjoyed your flushed face and loud moans from orgasm.

You fell silent, feeling exhausted and sated. Yunho slowly pulled his fingers out of you, which made you feel cold on your skin. He unbuckled his holster and belt, the only thing holding his unbuttoned trousers. His reddened cock was hard and shiny.

You managed to sob before his hands lifted you off the table, turned you around and pushed you forward so that you leaned over the edge, your ass was baked out. Yunho slapped your ass hard, making you arch up with a stifled groan. His chest pressed against your back, his lips caught your earlobe.

"I don't think you're surprised by this pose, princess," you could have sworn you felt his satisfied smirk all over your body. And you could have laughed if you weren't too needy of his cock, so you could only mumble something incoherent.

He stroked your ass, his tip slowly parted your thighs until you felt him at your entrance. Yunho groaned, you felt how big he was inside your tight pussy and he needed a little diligence to move on. You were suffocating from the way he filled you completely,

"You're taking my dick so well, princess, just a little more." He kissed your shoulder soothingly.

With one sharp movement, Yunho plunged deep into you. You exhaled and gripped the edge of the countertop with your fingers, trying to hold on when Yunho began to pound into you. You gasped as he entered you deeper, making your nipples rub against the cold, smooth table.

"Fuck"

Yunho wrapped his hand around your chest, connecting your heated bodies while the other hand descended to your clit. He made a trail of kisses on your back, thrusting into you harder.

Your legs were seconds away from buckling from the impending orgasm. You groaned as you felt hot tears on your cheeks. It was too good. Before you could warn him, you cum, your walls clenched tightly around his cock. Yunho tensed behind you, he tightened his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin almost painfully. He slammed into you and groaned low, his cock expanded inside you and you felt him fill you with his sperm. You could feel your pleasure flowing down your thighs.

Yunho leaned his whole body on you, leaving these kisses on your shoulder and neck while you tried to take a breath. When you regained your breath, Yunho slowly pulled his cock out of you and you trembled from the emptiness that formed. He picked you up in his arms and carried you to bedroom.

After carefully putting you in bed, he went into the bathroom to bring you a wet towel. Your husband gently wiped your thighs and pussy of cum. Your heart is filled with warmth. Yunho undressed and lay down next to you under the blanket facing you. His eyes were studying you intently. You smiled at him softly, touching his cheek with your hand.

"I'm fine," you kissed him gently on the lips. He moved even closer and wrapped his arm around you.

"Are you taking pills?" he whispered, as if he was afraid of the answer. You kissed him again. Yunho thought you were taking them, but…

"No," you could see something like pleasant surprise on his face.

"Do you want children?"

"Yes, I think I'm ready for them. So if we have a baby in 9 months, then it will be your fault too," you poked his chest with your finger. He laughed, and his laugh was the best sound in the world. His eyes filled with warmth. You lay on his chest, his hand traced patterns on back and waist.

"Do you remember when we were kids, we fantasized about growing up, saving up money and flying to Ecuador because we saw a beautiful package tour advertisement?" you nodded.

"I bought us tickets there, let it be our honeymoon destination." Yunho smiled at you and you smiled back at him.

"I love you, Y/n"

"I love you, Yunho"

"Are we like friends with benefits now?" you slapped him on the shoulder to get that stupid smirk off his face and he laughed out loud.

Unbearable. The same as before.

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez yunho #ateez scenarios #jeong yunho #yunho #yunho smut #yunho x reader #yunho fanfic

855 notes · View notes

fictionplumis · 2 years

Text

Listen, I know Dream winning his duel with Lucifer with hope is like... A BIG DEAL and super symbolic and beautiful, HOWEVER I have something that may not be better, but would definitely be FUNNIER.

Dream loses. He's been locked in a bubble and had his hopes dashed again and again, even though he's still fighting and still hopeful, it's harder for him to reach that and it doesn't come to mind in time for him to win against Lucifer. He's to stay as a servant in Hell and there's no Endless or divine being that can or will come to his aid. He's trapped. Again.

Only Matthew isn't Jessamy, Matthew knows when the best way to help is a tactical retreat to gather reinforcements. So that's what he does, going immediately to Luciene like, "Hey, so, uh..." And there has to be some way they can help him! Luciene makes it clear that none of the dreaming denizens can. None of the Endless can, no deity would be of any help there against Lucifer. There are Old Laws dictating that Dream lost fair and square and no one can interfere with that. And Matthew's like, "Well what about someone who can challenge Lucifer to win him back? Someone not bound by the Old Laws?"

"The only beings not bound by the Old Laws are humans. There's no human--"

Except there is. There's one. One human that Dream would go off once a century to meet, and it's a long shot, but--

That's how Hob Gadling finds himself being approached by a talking raven asking him to trek into hell to rescue his boss. "You know, Dream of the Endless? Lord Morpheus?"

Hob doesn't know who the hell the bird is talking about until Matthew describes him. "Oh, my Stranger!"

"...He seriously didn't even tell you his name?"

Now, the idea of setting foot into Hell itself to do battle with Lucifer Morningstar is, y'know... Not something he wants to do. He confirms over and over if Matthew is SURE he doesn't have to die to achieve this, because he's not ready to leave yet, and Matthew is like, "Yeah, buddy, shouldn't be a problem." He's lying. He has no idea if it's a problem. (It's not.)

Hob is like, "Yeah, but... I can't FIGHT Satan himself and expect to win, I AM still human."

And Matthew's like, "You don't actually have to fight her, it's like a game! But uh... Pretty sure you still feel all the pain and stuff." And he explains the rules, and like, okay, feeling the painful death of whatever kills whatever you decide to be in your round SUCKS, but Hob's been through that before. It's actually a pretty intriguing game, one he thinks he might win.

See, the way he sees it, it's a combination of the "times infinity" type of game (I love you, I love you more, I love you times two, I love you times a thousand, I love you times a million-- so on and so on) with that counting game where you either say one or two numbers, back and forth with someone, and whoever says 21 loses. Basically, there's one logical conclusion the game is going to reach. Someone is going to bust out the "times infinity" or in this case, "heat death of the universe" or some other completely life-ending thing. And like with the counting game, if you can get your opponent to say specific numbers on the way to 21, you can make sure they're forced to say it.

There's a strategy if you think ahead enough, and he has an entire walk through Hell to plan it.

(It SUCKS. He sees Robyn there. It breaks his heart. It's meant to, it's meant to keep him from reaching the palace, seeing his son in Hell, but they don't know Hob. They don't know the grief he's had to overcome in order for him to say, with absolute certainty, that he still wants to live even though it hurts. He reaches that citadel.)

Dream is, of course, horrified to see Hob there. Hob meanwhile is like a jilted exe all, "Yeah, yeah, we're not friends, you stood me up, but I'm still here for you because I'm the bigger person and I fucking care."

He challenges Lucifer for Dream's helm and their safe passage out of Hell. Lucifer is... Intrigued. She just beat Dream of the Endless, and this human thinks he can beat her when humanity's collective unconsciousness couldn't? His immortality has made him cocky, clearly. So she accepts, and bargains that if Hob loses, he has to give up his immortality.

There's a good minute where Hob pauses at that and has to really think about whether his arrogant, condescending not-friend is really worth that but yeah, yeah he is. Meanwhile Dream is off to the side. "Don't do this, Hob Gadling. It is not your responsibility to fix my missteps." Basically his version of pleading for Hob to leave and not risk this up until Lucifer is like enough out of you and shuts him up.

They play. Lucifer starts out with the wolf again, because it's a good starting point to see what direction her opponent plans to take, to get a glimpse into Hob's mindset entering this game. Her plan is, of course, to cause pain enough that Hob will have a hard time thinking, but Hob makes that really fucking hard from the get-go and throws everyone in the room for a loop when his answer is...

"I am the over hunting of the local deer population. Ecosystem destabilizing, predator killing."

Well. Okay. Yeah, sure. Fucking fine. It's hard to kill that painfully. Lucifer manages to come up with, "I am hunting restrictions, nature preserving, ecosystem balancing."

Hob, by that point, is like, I got this, actually. This might be fun. "I am the expansion of civilization. Forest destroying, hunting law nullifying."

Matthew, who had been feeling pretty iffy about calling this guy in to help, is no longer questioning that choice. Dream is a little starry-eyed.

Eventually Hob is the head of the Home Owner's Association. Lucifer is a bear, scrap hunting, person killing. Hob is family, revenge-seeking, bear euthanizing. Lucifer is Pride, argument starter, family destroying. Hob is friendship, blood covenant, thicker than womb water. Lucifer is jealousy, friendship rending, relationship ruining. Hob is personal growth, jealousy ending, apology giving. Lucifer is relapse, progress destroying, confidence killing. Hob is perseverance, step taking, progress rebuilding. On and on until finally Lucifer decides to end this the way she did with Dream and Hob leads her along until it reaches that natural conclusion, the death of all.

Now there's some temptation there to go with the obvious, since he can't die even if the universe was destroyed. At least he doesn't think so. But he had already decided that it was an obvious choice to go for and he could think of a few clever ways Lucifer might get around that. So instead, Hob goes the far better choice and personal insult of being God, universe creator, life giver. He's very proud of himself when the demons erupt into boos and Lucifer looks about ready to rip his fucking throat out with her teeth.

The way he sees it, there are two choices for her there, unless she really pulls something unexpected out of her ass. Option one is the whole "what's a god to an atheist" thing in which Hob would have then been a miracle, faith affirming, god-proving. Not much can destroy a miracle.

But Lucifer, livid and prideful, goes with option two. "I am Lucifer Morningstar, God defying, His Kingdom ripped sunder!"

And Hob has the absolute glee to grin and go, "I am Hob Gadling, clever, death defying, and triumphant over Lucifer Morningstar."

He and Dream are promptly kicked out of Hell on their asses, Dream's helm is thrown at his head with a force strong enough to break the sound barrier, and the gates are slammed shut behind them. The whole thing is so humiliating that Lucifer has to change their gender and moves to LA to open a nightclub.

#the sandman #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #morpheus

20K notes · View notes

lowkeychenle · 2 months

Text

And Then It Was [ZCL] (M)

Description: After your marriage with Chenle was arranged by your parents for a company merger, things with him aren't quite like you expect. In your life full of obligations, he's determined to finally give you the ability to make your own choices. Genre: Smut/Fluff/Angst (arranged marriage!au, rich families using their children as business mergers yk) Content Warnings: Rich, generational family trauma, family secrets, reader in her men suck era, explicit, protected sex, mentions of pregnancy (no actual pregnancy in the fic), reader feels obligated to have children, explicit, unprotected sex, use of the pet names 'baby' and 'darling', dirty talk, oral (f receiving) Word Count: 28.2k Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!Reader (features Jeno, Jisung, Jaemin, and Mark, but mostly Jeno and Jisung! (sorry idk where Renjun and Haechan are in this fic?????)) A/N: Y'all tumblr really f'in hates me because it was so difficult to format this fic? like it did not want to let me put the whole thing on here. So if the last section is oddly formatted, that's why and I'msosorry :'( (p.s. thank you so much for 700 followers!!!)

Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :) Taglist: @midmourn @nominsgirl @winwinscvnt @bugcattie @sleepyvic @chenlesfeetpic @tolerable-tears @yutaswh0re @bitchzitschimi @velvtcherie @leefullsun @pnkified @valerieluvsyu @defzcl

Chenle’s hand grips yours loosely, resting between the two of you right on the crack between the couch cushions. All of this is a formality, down to the smile plastered on your face. It started out simple, like something out of a movie, honestly, but even movies have to roll the end credits at some point.

“So, tell us the story of how you met,” the interviewer begins, crossing her legs as she looks at you in complete interest.

“We’ve known each other for ages,” Chenle says.

Lie. You’ve known of each other for ages. You’re only here with an oversized ring on your finger to complete your family’s merger with Chenle’s. What big news that was, two heirs of two of the biggest companies around the world falling in love. If only that were true in the slightest.

“Wow, way to make it sound romantic.” You laugh, reaching across to push his arm—gently, of course. “He makes it so lackluster. But to be completely transparent, it wasn’t…anything crazy. We did meet years ago, and we’ve been friends since then. Gosh, probably since we were sixteen?”

“Fifteen,” Chenle corrects you and sends an award winning smile your way. You’d be inclined to believe him if everything wasn’t scripted.

“He always has been a little more detail-oriented than me.”

The interview drags. You and Chenle were officially married just over a month ago, and while you know it’s your owed duty to your family, you wish optics weren’t so important. After all, legally binding yourself to secure a company was one thing, but physically binding yourself to a man you barely know? You wouldn’t dream of it. Even holding his hand feels odd, not to mention his palms are sweaty.

Your honeymoon had ended shortly before the interview. You’d been gone for four weeks, and it was the last bit of privacy you’d have when it comes to your ‘relationship’ with Chenle. You got to know him enough to where you’d be comfortable sharing an oversized house with him, but there were still a lot of mysteries between you two—mysteries you were sure would never get solved. There are a lot of good things about Chenle. He’s smarter than most people you’ve met, he knows how to make jokes and take them, he’s nice to look at, to hold a conversation with, but you don’t love him. You’d been of the mind that you wanted to marry for love since you were young, but some things are overshadowed by your duties. By money.

“There aren’t many people in this world that don’t just…immediately bow down to powerful men. It was…interesting to say the least, because throughout my entire life I’d always just been given respect. From the moment I met (Y/N), I knew I’d have to work for it. For her respect, I mean. She’s just as confident and much more intelligent than any other man I’ve ever worked with.” Chenle squeezes your hand.

That wasn’t in the script. It’s almost enough to have you break character and forget your next line. “Is that so?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he chuckles.

“Tried and true,” he replies with ease. “You really are extraordinary, you know.”

Can’t script a blush rising to your cheeks. It’s something about the way he makes direct eye contact with you that has your face burning.

Grinning, he turns back to the interviewer. “I have a lot of things to be grateful for in life. Truly, I do. I’m very fortunate for all of the good my family has done for me and for having things set up for me from the start. One thing I never could’ve imagined was that it could get better. Meeting her changed my life, and if I had to, I’d give everything else to keep her next to me.”

That time, your smile does fall, but you quickly catch yourself. Your heart picks up its pace in your chest, but you know it’s all part of the script. It has to be. He’d never give up his money, his family, his lifestyle for something as simple as you. You desperately want to pull your hand away, but you’ll wait until the cameras stop rolling.

As soon as you and Chenle are behind the tinted windows of his car, you drop his hand and scoot all the way over to have some semblance of peace. None of this truly makes sense to you. You’re much too young to be worried about your marriage to another person equally as young as you, yet you can’t help but mull over each word that left his mouth today.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“Of course.” You pull your phone out of your purse and scroll through your social media with a sigh.

The driver pulls away from the spot, and after a few minutes, you look over to find Chenle watching you.

“What?”

“Is that it?” He clasps his hands together in his lap.

You scoff. “Oh, I’m sorry. Are we to keep acting while we’re alone, too? It’s exhausting.”

“You don’t even want to…try to keep getting to know each other? You’re just done?” He pauses, tongue wetting his lips. “We’re here for the long haul, (Y/N). We signed a legally binding contract. Divorce isn’t an option ever. We may as well try and—”

“All due respect, Chenle, I’d rather not know you. What happens if I do, and then I hate everything about you? Ignorance is bliss. Why risk hating you when I can just tolerate you instead?”

“Is it the hate you don’t want to risk?” His question catches you off guard, the confidence laced in his tone sending sparks of irritation through you.

“Are you insinuating that you think I could fall in love with you?”

“There’s no insinuation. I’ll tell you with full certainty that you would.” Chenle’s dark eyes narrow, and he shifts in his seat. “You fear failure. But a marriage failure would be easier if you’re not in love, right? No feelings to cloud your logical judgment.”

“For such a smart man, that was an incredibly stupid statement.” You scoff, setting your phone in your lap. “This is a job, not a marriage.”

“Not according to our sealed certificate.”

“Burn it for all I care. I’m not here for you. I’m here for my family, so I could’ve been married off to anyone. Don’t think that means I’ll allow you to control me. What’s mine is still mine. If I choose to see someone outside the marriage, that’s my own choice.”

“Ah.” He inhales slowly. “You’re already in love.”

“Wrong again.”

“Then why is that the first thing you say?”

“Because I have a duty to you. An obligation. But that does not mean you’re obligated to my heart.” You look straight forward, refusing to acknowledge the heat of his stare boring into your side.

“At least make sure you’re using protection.” He clicks his tongue.

“That was also in the contract. Didn’t you read it?” You tap your foot. “‘Extramarital relations require usage of effective birth control methods, and I may not bear another man’s child.’”

“I’m sorry, what?” He gapes at you. “Are you serious right now?”

When you laugh, his eyebrows furrow deeply.

“What’s funny?”

“No, no, I just forgot. You’re the man. You’re expected to stray from the marriage because you obviously don’t have everything life can offer. It’s okay for you to get someone else pregnant because you don’t have to physically have the child. Ridiculous.”

“And you think that’s my intention? Seriously?”

“It’s an expectation in every arranged marriage, I assume.” You cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t care what you do, Chenle. Just act like you respect me at least.”

“Okay, now hold on.” He scratches his forehead, his thought process basically written out across his face. “You were the one that mentioned extramarital relationships. I was never going to suggest it because I’d never do something like that. I don’t care what our…relationship is like, it’s still a marriage. You’re my wife, whether we like it or not, and I’m not going to do anything that would undermine you or the legacy you’ve already created. Regardless of what you believe, I do respect you. Honestly.”

“I…” you trail off, swallowing roughly. “I’d prefer silence for the rest of the drive.”

Chenle runs his tongue over his teeth, but he nods.

“Do we have to share a room?” you ask as you take your earrings out. Placing them on the vanity in front of you, you stare at Chenle through the mirror, watching as he removes his suit jacket and tie.

“We don’t have to do anything.” Chenle shakes his head and untucks his shirt from his pants. “If that’s what you want, I’ll stay in another room.”

“What?” You frown. “This is your house. You should keep the master bedroom.”

“Stop thinking like that,” he says, working on his buttons. “It’s yours now, too.”

He stops halfway down, grabbing his shirt and sweatpants to change into.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” His voice seems different, almost cold. Distant.

“Chenle,” you call out, turning in your chair to face him directly.

He sighs, stops, and looks back at you. “Yeah?”

“Before you go, can we…get something out of the way?”

“More things.” He presses his lips together in a thin line, but eventually nods and takes a few steps closer. “By all means.”

This time, it’s your palms that are sweating. You grip the armrest and flounder for the words you want to say. It’s rare for you to get flustered or shy with anyone, so acting this way in front of him has heat rising to your cheeks.

“We’re expected to have children,” you finally spit out. “Heirs. We carry two legacies on our backs.”

He shifts on his feet, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he glances away from you. “This is what you want to get out of the way?”

“I…I just think it’s a good idea for us to put our…expectations out there early.”

“About sex or babies?”

“The only reason we’d ever…is to have babies.” You try to maintain your strong facade, but the conversation makes you more nervous than you’d care to admit.

“Right, because thinking that you’re sleeping with me out of obligation is incredibly sexy.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “We don’t even have to have sex to get you pregnant, you know. There are other options. Do you even actually want children? Or is that purely out of obligation as well?”

“Everything I do is out of obligation.”

“Not anymore.” He walks closer, resting his hand on the edge of the vanity. “You’re my wife now. You do what you want, and you do it for you. No one else. Understood?”

You stand up, obliterating the minuscule distance between the two of you. Your chest almost brushes his, and you’re nearly distracted by his half-unbuttoned shirt. Tilting your head, you scan over his face.

“You’re saying there’s not anything you want from me?”

“Wanting and demanding are two very different things.” He doesn’t back down, his impenetrable gaze locked on yours.

“And what is it that you want?”

“For someone who doesn’t care, you sure are inquisitive,” Chenle remarks.

“Don’t let my level of interest stop you.”

His eyes narrow. “How long have we known each other?”

“I can tell you our first real conversation was just over six months ago. We were informed of this…situation.” You sigh. “Why?”

“I was relieved to find out it was you.” He gulps. “To know that you are someone I’m…attracted to. That we could maybe one day have something real in the wake of this…joke of an arrangement.”

“Relieved?”

“Yes.” He nods without hesitation. “And that is what I want. A real life, real love, real family. And while everything else may not be ideal, I’d never force you to give me any of those things. As I’ve said, you’re free to make your own choices. Whether they include me or not.”

His voice is soft, barely carrying over to you from his spot mere inches away. Your heart pounds in your chest from his proximity, his words, him. You don’t want to risk anything, and the consequences far outweigh the rewards of a relationship like this.

“Good.” You nod. “I’ll remember that.”

“I expect nothing less.” He takes a step back, unintentionally shattering the tension between the two of you. “Have a good night, (Y/N).”

But for some reason, once he closes the door behind him and leaves you alone in this giant, extravagant bedroom, you truly wonder what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into.

“I mean, is that a bad thing?” Jisung’s voice carries through the phone, shuffling around with documents in the background.

Your cousin always did have trouble seeing things from your side. You sigh. “It is a bad thing. Why can’t he just be a normal man? I’m not going to beg anyone to impregnate me, if that’s what he’s waiting for—”

“(Y/N),” he says, tone laced with disbelief. “After that whole conversation, that’s what you got out of that? That he wants you to beg him?”

“What else am I supposed to get?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you study yourself in the mirror. Despite the stress as of late, you still seem miraculously put together.

“That he actually cares about you. And wants something real.”

“Then his family picked his wife incorrectly,” you insist. “I’m here because I was told to be. And why risk a lifetime of unhappiness and hate when we could just…tolerate each other?”

“Not everything has to be—”

“You were supposed to be on my side for this.” Your chest deflates, and you put him on speaker to apply your lipstick and put your earrings in.

“I’m always on your side, even if you think I’m not. I’ve met Chenle, too. You could’ve been much worse off for a company merger.”

“Right, so I should be grateful?” You snort. “Grateful that my husband doesn’t want to have—”

“Insufferable,” your cousin cuts you off. “You’re insufferable. The whole world is not out to get you. In the position you’re in, you need every single ally you can get. Chenle especially. He’s one of the most powerful men in the country. Imagine what that could do for you.”

“Yes, because powerful men are so enticing for me.” You roll your eyes.

“You don’t have to love him. Nobody expects that of you, but you can at least be friends with him.” Jisung clicks his tongue. “Give him a shot, okay? He’s not an asshole, and from what you’ve told me, he seems to be trying with you.”

You tap your fingers on the vanity. “I have a business meeting with him and his board. Guess I’ll see you in a few.”

“That you will. Talk to you soon.”

As the line cuts, you head out of Chenle’s—your—room, and head down the hall and out the door. Today is a new day, and the first way to present your dominance to your husband is to talk business. You’ve always been good at keeping your composure. While the buildings for your family’s company and Chenle’s were on opposite sides of town, the merger gave you unlimited access to both. Chenle was his own respective CEO, while your father still held the technical title at yours.

COO had been sitting in your pocket for years, and your father told you the only way he’d relinquish his CEO title onto you is if you married. And produced an heir without any public miscommunication. Essentially, your heir would, under no uncertain circumstances, be conceived and birthed in a conventional way.

You’re the last one to arrive in the conference room. The walls are mostly windows, overlooking the bustling city below you. You inhale deeply at the sight, and Chenle looks up at you, standing as soon as he finds you in the room. The rest of the board follows suit, and you almost scowl at the realization that the only open seat is right next to your husband. You don’t recognize any of them since this is solely for Chenle, but he insisted you were to be included on all business discussions from the moment you were married.

You stand next to Chenle, staring down at the five men around you. “Sit. Standing on my behalf is a waste of time.”

All of them listen to you, Chenle included, leaving you the lone pillar in a room full of money.

“Thank you for waiting for me.”

You don’t ever apologize for being late. Some things are out of your control. Sitting, you move your chair closer to the table. Chenle leans in, close enough for his lips to brush your ear. “I told you to just drive with me.”

You turn to him, unintentionally scanning over his face while he’s so close, and give him a small, fake smile. “And I told you I travel alone.”

It’s the first time you see annoyance pull at his brows. The only thing it does for you is make you give yourself a mental tally mark. Winning is your strong suit.

“Late on the first day isn’t a good look,” the man in the back on the right says. “It’s almost as if it’s not important to you.”

“First day?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Bold of you to assume I haven’t been involved from the moment I signed a wedding certificate.”

“That’s hardly an excuse—”

“Jaemin,” Chenle interrupts him. “It won’t happen again. Leave it alone.”

Anger bubbles in your stomach as you watch the man at the end—Jaemin—immediately back down. Your words weren’t enough, but the second Chenle opens his mouth, the argument’s over? With the group of men, you talk financials from last quarter. You follow along easily thanks to the binder of data Chenle provided you with. Stopping on the fourth page, you frown.

Leaning over to Chenle, you nudge his shoulder. When you point at the page, his eyes follow. You turn your head to whisper in his ear, “This charge isn’t itemized. Little amounts may be fine, but a $143,000 charge with no itemization from one of your departments can’t be normal.”

“You’ve got sharp eyes,” he mutters, almost appreciatively.

“Obligations make you that way,” you return, brushing your hair back as you lean against your chair. Chenle’s button-up sleeves are rolled to his elbows, the tip of his pen tapping on the table as he listens to Jisung talk.

Chenle’s smart not to bring anything up just yet, as he’s likely to do more research before asking his team what is going on with something like that. You cross your legs and listen intently, but most of it is beyond your scope in his company, anyway.

“You’ll also have to decide on new positions as well.” Another man speaks up from beside your cousin.

“And what positions are those, Mark?” Chenle asks.

“COO and CFO nominations for the board to vote.”

“There isn’t any need for nominations for COO.” Chenle frowns.

“Why’s that?” One of the men, Jeno, follows up.

“Isn’t it obvious? The only person qualified for such a role is my wife.” Chenle crosses his arms over his chest, but this time, you can’t stop your outward reaction. Your jaw drops as all eyes fall on you, and you give him an incredulous look.

“Are you serious?”

“Why is this a surprise?” he inquires, gaze meeting yours.

It’s a surprise because nowhere in your signed contract did it say you were entitled to a position of power at his company.

“(Y/N) is an excellent candidate. She’s done great things at my uncle’s company,” Jisung butts in, nodding at you. “If it were up to a vote, she’d have mine.”

“We’ll reconvene for the vote. I have several candidates for CFO listed in the binders you received today, so you may vote on those as well.” Chenle pauses.

You don’t realize your leg bouncing up and down until his palm presses against your knee. The movement is undetectable to everyone else, but it makes every ounce of air dissipate from your lungs. You calm down in an instant, no matter how much you hate to say it, and you clench your fists together in your lap.

“For now, my wife and I are going home,” he continues. “Have a good and productive day today.”

Everyone stands as he does, and you stare at him briefly when he extends his arm out to you. In that split second, you make eye contact with Jisung, who nods in encouragement. You let out a nearly invisible sigh, but you wrap your fingers around the crook of his elbow and allow him to lead you from the room. Once you’re far enough away from everyone, he still doesn’t let you go, a somewhat proud half-smile on his face. “After you pointed out that discrepancy, I almost switched gears and made you CFO instead.”

“You’ll learn quite fast that numbers aren’t really my strong suit.” You don’t even attempt to remove your grip on him. “My attention to detail makes up for the…lack of numerical intelligence.”

“I hope I didn’t take you too off-guard.” He opens the door to the building, disconnecting your arms to place his hand on the small of your back to guide you.

“Please.” You chuckle and shake your head. “You? Take me off-guard?”

“Competitive, too, huh?” He raises an eyebrow at you as he glances around at the different people with cameras surrounding you. Whether to keep you away from them or to keep up appearances, his hand slides from your back to your hip, gently pulling you closer to his side.

“Let’s just say I stopped being invited to family game night,” you admit.

Once the two of you make it to the car, you barely realize you’re disobeying your own rule of traveling alone. He grasps your hand to help you into the backseat, ignoring the flashing lights behind him as he watches you slide over.

He gets in after you, closing the door with a huff. “That’ll be a headline tomorrow.”

“You helping me into the car?”

“You smiled at me.”

“We’re married.”

“Nobody believes it.” He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair.

After a moment of your silence, he reaches over to grab your hand. You surprise even yourself when you allow him.

“I’m sorry. It’s not your problem. And it doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks.”

“Don’t apologize.” You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter, Chenle. We’ll get our…obligations out of the way, and then you can find the love you claim you want.”

His jaw tightens as he looks forward, his grip on you loosening. “Right.”

“Why?” you ask. “Why is that what you want? With me, or with anyone.”

“Love is good for you.” He shrugs. “To have someone who actually cares for you more than themselves just because they want to. Ever since I was young, I wanted to marry for love, but I’d always understood it wasn’t in the cards for me. But I figured I’d at least be able to try. With whoever it was, at least I’d be able to try to be a proper husband.”

There’s much more complexity behind Chenle than what you initially gave him credit for. You figured he’d be the typical CEO, a man high on power who will do everything and anything to not only keep it, but to grow his influence. The version of him you see now doesn’t support that original thought, but you have a hard time believing it.

“Life is already dull and loveless as it is. Rich families don’t exactly enjoy time with their relatives. I figured you, of all people, would understand where I’m coming from in that aspect.” He fidgets with his wedding band. “I don’t want to bring children into a world where they won’t be loved.”

“You think I wouldn’t love my own children?” you ask.

“That’s not what I said.” He glances at you. “Children deserve a complete family. One with parents who not only love them, but each other. I didn’t have that growing up, and I refuse to put anyone else through it.”

“I see.” You understand his point all too well, but you don’t see the big deal. Even if you two were in love and had children, wouldn’t you still have nannies and cooks and all of the things that you had as a child?

“Again, I’m not forcing you into anything. So, you don’t have to try with me if you don’t want to. But I’m not searching for it somewhere else. Since we…are obligated to have children, I wouldn’t put them through a situation where they view their father as a cheater. When I signed that contract and the marriage certificate, I signed my life away to you. Sure, it wasn’t in a traditional way or necessarily…by choice, but we’re here.”

“Wow, you sure know how to woo a woman.”

“You’ve made your stance clear. All I ask is that whoever you…” he trails off and scoffs. “Whoever you decide to be with, you keep them away from any future children. And we’ll never force them into a marriage like this.”

“You want our children to marry for love?”

“Of course, I do.” He nods.

“Chenle, I…”

This time, you reach over to him to stop his excessive movement. The second your fingers wrap around his wrist, he stops.

“I think the same way you do. Hopefully, we respect each other enough not to be caught. Publicly or by children.”

“So, you really…There’s no chance? Of anything real between us?”

Your heart comes to a dead-stop in your chest, and the word ‘no’ hangs on the tip of your tongue, but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to actually say it. It’s one simple syllable, but it’s so heavy in your mouth, you fear opening it will wreak havoc.

“I…I don’t know,” you reply, gulping.

He turns his hand so your palms are touching, and then he squeezes you gently. “All I ask is that you keep an open mind. It’s okay to let yourself have things you want, too. Not everything has to be an obligation.”

Before you can speak, the driver is opening the door for you and Chenle to get out. The two of you make your way into the house, but you’re honestly not sure where to go from here. You head upstairs toward the master bedroom to take off your dress.

“(Y/N),” Chenle calls, stopping you in your tracks. He continues, “I have to get clothes to change into. They’re still all in the master, but I’ll have the staff move them by the end of the week.”

You wet your lips. Standing on the third stair makes you taller than him, and he looks up at you with only kindness behind his brown eyes. You want to hate him. Or to only tolerate him. But through the moments of kindness, you know he’s the type of man you could be friends with. You could—

You stop that thought before it completes. “It’s your house. Do whatever you need to.”

He joins you on the third step and leans closer to you. “Wrong.”

“Wrong?” You tilt your head.

“Remember that everything I have is yours, too. This house belongs to you just as much as it belongs to me. As much as you hate to think so, I know you, (Y/N). The ball is in your court. You make the decisions around here, whether it’s what color the walls are or twenty kids running around the hallways. Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen.”

You gape at him, face red as he leans away from you and continues up the stairs without looking back at you. Once he’s far enough away, you clear your throat and pat your cheeks. Regaining your composure, you follow him up and find him working on the buttons of his shirt, his tie discarded on the bed.

“Does this bother you?” he asks. “I can go.”

“What makes you think it bothers me?”

“You’re staring.”

You head over to the closet instead of responding to him, more than ready to put pants on instead of the dress that’s much too tight for comfort. Once you’ve picked out your new clothes, you stay where you’re at and reach behind you for the zipper. After a few moments of struggling with it, you finally give up and decide to use your resources.

“Chenle?” you call out.

When he appears in the doorway, his shirt is absent, and you were pretty sure he’d been wearing a belt before. His arms are crossed over his chest as he leans against the frame, awaiting you to tell him what you need. You don’t have to actually speak. Instead, you turn your back to him and pull your hair over your shoulder. He hums behind you, keeping a respectable amount of distance before he grips the zipper.

“What did you do before me?” he asks, hesitant to pull it down.

“Staff.” You shrug. “But I mostly wore things I knew I’d be able to—”

The familiar sound and the rush of cool air against your heated skin as he reveals more of you has your breath catching in your throat. You cut yourself off, immediately reaching up to hold the dress to your chest.

“I’m a very accommodating man, (Y/N).” His voice sinks into every inch of you. “If you need something, tell me. I’m your husband. It’s quite literally my job to ensure you’re happy, darling.”

The heat radiating from his bare skin so close to yours has every thought in your brain flying away. Logically, there’d be nothing wrong with giving in to your temptation. It’d been a long time since anyone had touched you, and the man behind you is your husband. Physical attraction had nothing to do with emotions or feelings, so it was okay. One thing you’d never be able to deny is how he’s one of the most beautiful men you’d ever met. Your parents could’ve chosen much, much worse for you.

His voice centimeters from your ear startles you out of your trance. He says, “I wonder what you’re thinking about. You seem a bit distracted.”

“Wouldn’t you love to know.”

“Truly.”

“I need to change.”

“Do you?” He trails a finger up your spine. “You’re so soft. What an odd comparison to that steel wall you’re forcing yourself to keep up.”

“I think you’re forgetting your own boundaries.” You clench your fist into the fabric of your dress. “This wouldn’t be real.”

“What even is this?” His breath fans across your neck, and you’re sure you feel the sublest brush of his lips on your skin. “Tell me where you think this is going. After all, I’m helping you with your dress like a good husband.”

“My dress was dealt with minutes ago.”

“Darling.” He tsks. “If your dress was dealt with already, it would be long, long gone.”

Even like this, you refuse to let him win. If this were to be the extent of your relationship with Chenle, you’d be fine with that. You crave satisfaction, and you also know this is a means to an end. This may be the key to giving your family those fucking heirs they want so badly. In a bold move, you release your grip on the fabric and allow it to crumple at your feet.

“What?” You tilt your head, grinning when his breathing halts. “Are you the only one who can deliver?”

He places his hand on your hip. “Can I touch you here?”

“Mhm,” you inhale sharply when he squeezes, trying your best not to roll back against him.

“Here?” he whispers, splaying his fingers out along your stomach.

“What’s your goal?” you ask, looking back at him over your shoulder. “You seem like you want something from me.”

His face is much too close to yours, but for some reason, it does little to bother you. When his lips part, you don’t mean to squirm in his touch. His eyes sweep over your expression, his touch edging just a little further downward until he can play with the lace hem of your panties.

“I’ve told you what I want already.” His gaze locks on your mouth. “Everything. I want it all.”

You gulp, unable to speak for fear of making a fool of yourself.

“What about me makes this hard for you?” he asks.

Despite the softness of his voice, your proximity to him means you see the hint of hurt swimming around in his dark irises. The heat of his bare skin on yours has everything inside you awakening, but you can’t give him what he wants.

“The choice is yours.” He takes a deep breath. “Going forward, the choice is always yours to make. I’m yours in any way you want me.”

The atmosphere around you is so warm, charged, you can’t help the way you struggle to breathe. You lean closer to him, and when your lips brush his, his grip around you tightens. Before he’s able to initiate a real kiss, a knock sounds on the bedroom door.

“Mr. Zhong, you have a visitor.”

“God damn it,” he curses under his breath, annoyance replacing whatever vulnerability you’d just seen. Stepping away from you, he grabs a shirt for you and hands it to you.

You accept it quickly, embarrassment flooding through your system as reality sets in and you realize what you’d done. He stops in the doorway, stealing one more glance at you before he runs his fingers through his hair and walks out.

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself, patting your cheeks.

Your skin where he touched you suddenly feels much too cold, and you give yourself a few moments to calm down as you search for a pair of pants to put on. You pick your dress up off the floor and put it with your dirty laundry. You tie your hair up to get yourself to cool down, and then you follow Chenle out to see who saved you from making a decision you wouldn’t be able to come back from.

“You came all the way here to deliver a report?” Chenle’s voice cuts through the air before you’re able to see him, and you hear the agitation flooding through it.

You round the corner and stop at the top of the stairs, finding Chenle in the foyer with one of the men from the meeting earlier standing right inside the doorway with a binder. He’d slipped his shirt back on, retucked it, and even rolled his sleeves up. His hands are deep in his pockets.

“It couldn’t wait,” the man says.

“There are plenty of things that can’t wait in this world, and they wait anyway, Jeno.” Chenle shifts on his feet. “But you’re here, so give it to me.”

Jeno hands Chenle the binder, and he opens it. At the realization of what it is, the latter’s eyes close.

“You’re telling me that this has been going on for years?”

“Before you were even CEO, yes.” Jeno nods.

“My father knows about this?”

“I’m not sure.”

“What is your father supposed to know about?” you ask, finally making your presence known as you make your way down the stairs.

Chenle turns to you, his jaw clenching as his gaze travels on its own accord. “The amount you pointed out earlier. It’s not just one payment. There’s…an entire binder full of payments to someone that aren’t accounted for. That’s $143,000 a quarter, for longer than I’ve even been able to—”

“Should she really be involved in this?” Jeno grabs Chenle’s arm.

“She’s the COO of the company.” Chenle frowns at the other man. “And she’s my wife. If this is going on, it affects her, too.”

The other man releases him, and you join Chenle at his side. At this point, even pressing your arm against his is far too much contact for you, yet you crave it all the same.

“It’s new for them,” you remind your husband. “They’re not used to me yet. They’ll learn in due time.”

“Right.”

You hold your hand out for the reports, and he gives it to you. You flip through, noting the dates corresponding with the payments.

“I wouldn’t bring it up to your father,” you mention.

“What?” Chenle recoils. “Why not?”

“These charges have been happening for years,” you point out. “There’s a chance he might know about them. That he could be the one—”

“That’s impossible,” Chenle interrupts you, his posture immediately straightening out as he stands rigid.

“It’s not.” You keep your voice soft in an attempt to neutralize the situation, and you reach for his wrist. “All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t rule anyone out. We need to keep this within a circle while we do research. No one else can know that this has even been caught.”

As soon as your fingers wrap around him, the tension in his body melts away. He lets out a sigh, wets his lips, and nods. “You’re right. We’ll look into it.” He turns to Jeno. “No one can know about this. This stays between the three of us.”

“Of course,” Jeno confirms. “I’ll leave you with that information now. Have a good night, you two.”

“Thanks,” Chenle says.

Jeno leaves, the echo of the door closing behind him leaving you and Chenle draped in an awkward silence. You place the binder on the table on the glass table, turning to face your husband.

“Are you alright?” Chenle asks.

“Me?” You raise your eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He gives you a pointed look, one that tells you he’s in no way wanting to beat around the bush. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m…okay, yes. Maybe a little flustered, but I didn’t…hate what happened, if that’s what you’re asking.” You avoid his gaze, rolling your eyes as you stare off past him to the ornate details of the front door.

“We’re married,” he points out.

“Yes, I’m acutely aware of that fact, thank you.” Your fingers find the band of your wedding ring.

He pauses, but his gaze leaves goosebumps all over your body as he trails over you. “It’s clear we’re…attracted to each other. And you’re still sure you’d rather not attempt a real relationship.”

“We’ve talked about this.” You glance around, like the staff overhearing is the most embarrassing thing you’ll deal with.

“Not enough.”

“What else could we possibly add to that?”

“I don’t want us to tolerate each other, (Y/N). At the very least, we should try to be friends.” He takes a step closer to you.

You’ve been confronted by a lot of men in your life. There have been even more men who doubted your abilities, but none of them had ever intimidated you. Chenle, standing in front of you with a determined look on his face, intimidates you. A part of you—no matter how small it may be—knows he’s everything he says he is and more. He could give you the life you’ve always wanted, but you’re sure you don’t deserve it. Not until you’ve fulfilled your portion of the contract and take your place as CEO. Only then can you allow yourself to let go.

“Do you want me?” he asks. “In any way?”

“I don’t want to,” you tell him honestly. “But I do.”

“When we were on our honeymoon, or the semblance of whatever that was, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how we were forced into this arrangement, yet none of it…None of it feels wrong. You may not have paid me much attention beforehand, but for years before we were ever to be married, I’ve admired you. Your willpower and the way you hold your own. The independence you have. Your autonomy. I envy you.”

“Why? Why envy me?”

“Look at yourself.” Chenle puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you to look into the floor-length mirrors against the wall. “I’m not talking about how beautiful you are, even though that’s definitely an added bonus. I mean the utter tenacity you have flowing through your veins. The way you can command attention the second you walk into a room. How you’re unafraid to put men with decades of more experience in their places. You are…unapologetically yourself. This life, one of business, is significantly easier for me as a man, yet you’ve absolutely bulldozed everyone in your way.”

“Chenle—”

“I’m not done.” He taps his fingers against you.

Seeing him standing behind you in these mirrors is making your heart race, your brain jolting with electricity, and inexplicable thoughts running around your mind. He looks good like this. He watches you fondly, the admiration in his gaze evident.

“But you’re honest, too. With your intentions and with the way you want to live your life. I wish you’d give me the chance to prove how things could be, but like I said before, these choices are yours alone. Don’t get that confused with me not wanting to try. Because I’ll keep trying as long as you want me in…whatever way.”

You turn to him, craning your neck to look at him with your hands flat on his chest. “I’m beginning to think you’re crazy.”

“If trying to give my wife the life she deserves is crazy, then I’ll gladly claim that title.” A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Something tells me you might come around someday.”

“I wish you saw things the way I do,” you mutter.

“I think the same way. But as much as I understand your fears, they shouldn’t hinder you in your life. You’re allowed to explore all aspects. Business. Joy. Intimacy. Love.”

“And you’re an expert on intimacy?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Expert might be a strong word, but I won’t ever lie to you. I’ve been in love in the past and gotten hurt because of it. But every heartbreak is worth it if it leads you to the person you were made for.” His hands slide to your hips, fingertips barely applying any pressure. “If we find we’re not good for each other, I’d let you go. You’re bound to me in a legal sense only. Paper. It means nothing unless we make it mean something.”

“You…scare me,” you breathe out. “This scares me.”

“We’re doing something right, then.” He lets out a short chuckle. “But I like this. Being close to you. Knowing that we’d be so much better as a team than as roommates.”

“I’ve always worked alone.”

“Does that mean you’ve never been in love?”

You shake your head. “Never. I don’t give myself the time to feel things like that.”

“So, feel.” His finger brushes below your chin, angling you so your eyes meet his. “Tell me what you’re feeling right now.”

“I—”

“Don’t think. Feel.”

“I…I’m nervous. You can’t be real. I’ve only been burned in the past, but it feels like you’d…just keep me warm. I don’t know if I want that.” You gulp past the unexplainable lump in your throat. “It’s…overwhelming.”

“What can I do to help you?” Chenle asks. “Whatever you need. Tell me, and I’ll make it happen.”

“You.” Your voice almost refuses to work. “I want you, but I…I need time to see if that’s really it or if I’m tricking myself in order to fulfill these stupid obligations set for me.”

“Which obligations?”

“Heirs.” You avert your gaze, but he gently pulls you right back.

“Take whatever time you need. I mean it. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not going to push you into any situations like that.” He reaches up and plays with a strand of your hair. “But there are…plenty of ways to explore that side of our relationship without pregnancy being a risk. Or a reward, if that’s what you view it as.”

Your face burns. Never before has a man made you blush.

“With that in the open, does removing the pregnancy factor make you want me any less?”

You contemplate. While you’d love to say that portion of your contract was the last thing on your mind, you thought of it frequently. But thoughts of what he’s mentioning has your insides twisting and turning in every way, with or without heirs being involved. When he touched you earlier, his hands on your bare skin, that genuinely wasn’t a thought. You want him for personal gain, but not in the way you originally assumed.

“Never less,” you murmur. The warmth around you becomes unbearable, yet you still find yourself shivering. “I think we need to come back to this at a different time.”

“Of course.” He takes a step back, allowing cool air to rush over you. Grabbing the binder from the table, he gestures for you to follow him into his office. “Shall we move on to some numbers, then?”

Finally, you laugh shortly. “Yeah. Yes, that sounds good.”

After two hours of studying the documents, spreadsheets, and all the other information Jeno brought for Chenle, the two of you have gotten as far as discovering the payments were sent to the same bank account. Stress is written across his face, and eventually, you slide the binder away from him.

“You’re going to run yourself into the ground,” you scold him. “It’s time for a break.”

“What time is it?” he asks, massaging his forehead.

“Almost 8pm.” You lean back in your chair and cross your legs.

His lips part in shock, and he checks his watch. “Fuck. I’m sorry, I didn’t even…you haven’t eaten yet.”

“Neither have you,” you point out.

“We’ve already established that you’re more important.” He lets out a sigh, partially filled with frustration. “You know what? Why don’t you get changed and we’ll go out?”

“Together?” Your eyes widen.

“We’re married. It’d be weird if we went by ourselves.”

“Right, of course. Um, anything in particular I should wear?”

“The choice is yours.” He grins, and like it’s the easiest thing in the world, robs all of the oxygen from your lungs. You realize then that you don’t see him smile much, but the pang in your heart can only mean you want to see it over and over again.

“Okay.” You nod and stand. “Give me ten minutes.”

“Take your time. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“You sure you don’t want to pick?” you offer one last time.

“While that would honestly be an honor, darling, I’m trying to prove a point here.” He lifts himself to his feet and reaches across the desk to close the binder. “I could use a drink.”

You give him a small smile before you exit his office. Once he’s out of sight, you practically bound up the stairs. You’d been on dates before, sure, but this feels different. You know better than to let yourself look too far ahead, so once you’re in your closet, you want to make sure you wear something nice. You pick a dress you’re sure you can get yourself out of. Unlike your outfit from earlier, this one isn’t as tight to your figure, and the soft color matches you well. For business meetings, you only wear black. Wearing bright colors hasn’t ever brought you success, but you figure you can wear the purple for a date with your husband.

A date. Is it a date?

That part of it doesn’t matter. This dress makes you feel good about yourself, truly. Disgust immediately sends a shiver down your spine when you realize you’re beginning to ponder how Chenle will perceive you. He’s a man. You could wear a trash bag and he’d think you did something revolutionary. Brushing the skirt of your dress off, you grab a pair of heels, slide them on, and head back down the stairs. He waits by the door, his suit jacket back on and buttoned in the middle. He turns at the sound of your shoes on the floor, and he freezes in his spot.

“What?” you inquire.

“I just…I’ve never seen you in that color before.” He clears his throat, but his cheeks tinge with a light, barely noticeable pink. “You…it suits you well.”

“Thank you.” Before you attempt to leave the door, he grabs your jacket from the rack and drapes it over your shoulders.

“It’s cold, darling,” he mutters, making sure the fabric is secure on your shoulders.

“You don’t think it ruins the outfit?”

“Not a chance. Jacket or not, it’s my favorite of yours.”

“Relax with the compliments. You’re making me blush.” You brush your fingertips against his shoulder and exit the house.

“My hard work is paying off. Good to know.” He closes the door behind him and guides you to the car with his hand on the small of your back. “I’ll stop with the compliments if you ever stop deserving them. Which I doubt will happen, by the way.”

The drive is thirty minutes, and the city is still bustling by the time Chenle is helping you out of the car. His palm against yours makes your stomach flip, and you’re beginning to hate this effect he has on you. It seems like it hit you out of nowhere, and you’d prefer if it were to sink back into the depths of hell where it came from in the first place. But before you know it, you’re a glass and a half deep of wine, you’ve eaten enough pasta to get you through the night, and Chenle’s in the exact same boat you’re in. Between the two of you, you’ve finished a bottle, and it seems as if your husband is debating ordering another one.

You hide a laugh with another sip from your glass and shake your head. “I cannot believe we’re this out of order.”

“The order doesn’t matter as long as the end result is desirable. Isn’t that true?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Mm, I’ve always been an order of operations girl. Everything has to happen in the exact right way.” You set your drink down and rest your head on your palm.

“I just realized I know…nothing about your past. Please, tell me what the younger version of you was like. What kind of trouble did you get into?”

“Wow, what makes you assume I got into trouble?” you tease him, unable to fight your smile.

He sucks in a deep breath and pats his legs. “God, I’m not sure. It couldn’t be the way you never take no for an answer or how you absolutely run over everyone in your way.”

“I’ll have you know that I am a very composed human.” You run your tongue over your teeth.

“I’d expect nothing less, to be honest.” He gives you a soft smile. “And for the record, I enjoy those qualities. There aren’t many people in this world that would be unafraid of calling me out if I’m doing something wrong.”

“You mean earlier.”

“I mean in general, but that does apply, yes.”

“I only want to be a balance for you.” You look down at the red liquid in your cup. “We’re meant to complement each other now, yeah?”

“I think we were the most strategic pair…ever.” Chenle nods.

“Can I be honest with you?” You take another sip.

“Absolutely.”

“You asked me earlier what about you makes this situation hard. Or what about you makes it hard for me to…let go of certain views.” You clear your throat, dreading the conversation more than you’d care to admit. “I feel like it’s…because a part of me knows the greatness we’d be capable of together. But I’ve worked hard to build my own greatness, and I can almost guarantee the second this becomes real, my greatness becomes ours.”

“Ah.” He purses his lips. “I won’t lie to you. There will be people that see it that way. But by being married to me, those people already exist.”

“I’m not talking about other people. I don’t care about them or their opinions.” You finish off your glass.

“You…you mean me?” His eyes widen in shock.

“That is a fear I have.”

He flounders for a second, and he scrambles for words for the first time all day. “I’m sorry, I just…I’m not sure if there’s anything I can say to make this better. I…(Y/N), I know my promises probably don’t mean much to you at this point, but I’d never discount you like that. Or take credit for anything you’ve done. How can I make that clearer?”

“It’s not your issue to correct.” You chew the inside of your cheek. “It’s mine. And I don’t say it to make you feel responsible, but as a forewarning, I guess. Being a woman and working my way to the top just to have…this thrust upon me is a little redundant.”

“You never wanted to marry in the first place.” It’s not a question.

“That’s correct.”

He blows out a long breath and looks down at his hands, twisting the wedding band on his finger. “You never saw this in the cards for you.”

“I knew I’d eventually have to marry for company purposes. My father would never let himself die before he knows I’ve carried on his line.” You snort and shake your head. “But I figured all of these types of marriages were the same. People signed their paperwork and barely acknowledged each other unless it was to reproduce.”

Chenle lets out a laugh. “Your word choice is interesting.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.” You cover your mouth as you join him in laughter. “I just never thought you’d be…you.”

“I live to prove to you that you can have everything. We can be happy, have a real family, and still be at the top of our field. Both independently and together.”

Fortunately for the both of you, Chenle doesn’t order the second bottle of wine. Instead, he pays the bill and leads you from the restaurant with his arm wrapped around your waist. He opens the car door for you, and as you place your hand in his to enter, he squeezes your hand gently. Once you get home, the two of you separate at the top of the stairs, him heading off to a spare room down the hall while you step into the room that technically belongs to him. You change without interrupt, your silk nightgown soft on your skin as you climb into bed.

You stare up at the ceiling, tracing along it with your eyes as if you were drawing a map. Where the destinations were you had yet to figure out, but you imagined a whole new world up there, one where you didn’t have to have this wall up. One where you didn’t have to fight tooth and nail for a shred of respect you more than deserve. One where you didn’t have to be scared of what Chenle was trying to offer you.

You sigh, clutching the blanket to your chest. The wine has since settled in your system, yet your blood still runs warm. The map on the ceiling becomes mountains, oceans, continents. It forms real shapes, real geography in your mind, but you find the destination right in the middle is where you truly want to be. When you look at your phone, the time is already past 2 a.m., and you’re not anywhere near tired. You’re startled by the knock. You shuffle out of bed, crossing your arms over your chest as you crack the door open slightly.

Chenle stands there, hands buried deep in his sweatpants. His eyes sweep over you as you open the door wider.

“You’re up,” he comments.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You shrug. “You’re up. And here.”

“I was hoping I could talk to you.” He pauses. “I can’t stop thinking, and I just really don’t want to be alone right now.”

Your heart skips a beat. As much as you hate it, warmth spreads through your entire being at the thought of his first idea being you.

“This is your room, Chenle. I’m not going to tell you you can’t come in your own bedroom.” You step back to give him space to walk in, but he stays put outside, staring at you as if he’s seeing straight into your soul. You give him a pointed look, but give in. “Yes, it’s okay for you to come in here. I’d prefer company as well.”

He shuffles past you, tiredness clearly weighing down as the bottoms of his feet slide across the hardwood floor. You watch him closely, admiring him. Quickly, you realize that he fits into any room he walks in. He belongs anywhere and everywhere, and within moments, he makes you feel something you’ve only ever been able to provide for yourself until this moment—safe.

“Sorry,” he whispers with a sigh. “I need to stop thinking.”

“Trust me, I get it. Me too.” You stand with your arms still crossed over your chest and you rock back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“I shouldn’t bore you.” He waves you off and sits on the edge of his bed. “How are you adjusting?”

“I’m okay. I’m not complaining about my accommodations.” You move and sit next to him, putting your hand on his knee. “You won’t bore me. If something’s bothering you, I want to try and help.”

His eyes sparkle even in the dark. The landscapes of the map you drew reflect in his gaze, and you swear you see every mountain, every body of water, entire worlds forming in his irises. How have you never seen this before? Why are you seeing it now?

“The payments,” he murmurs. “The idea that my father might know about them. Might be facilitating them. It’s driving me up a fucking wall.”

“When I said that, I didn’t mean to upset you.” You reach over and grab his hand. “We just need to take precaution when it comes to situations like this. If it is him and he knows we’re onto him, it might be…a bigger issue than it needs to be.”

“I know that. I guess it’s the idea that he’d be capable of something like that.” Chenle stares down at the way your thumb traces against his skin.

“You look up to him.”

“I did. I do. A lot, actually, so this seems so…backwards. That’s a lot of money per quarter, you know? I could only imagine what it’s going towards.” He turns his hand around so your palms are touching, and he gently intertwines your fingers. “Sorry, I should’ve asked if this was okay.”

“It’s more than okay. Don’t worry about me. Keep talking.”

“My parents never really loved each other. They grew to love their life together, but not each other. And despite that, I had a decent time growing up. They were good parents to me, and that’s what truly matters at the end of the day, but it makes me wonder if they’re…not these great people I’ve made them out to be in my head.” He lets out a short chuckle. “This sounds pathetic.”

“Hey.” Before you realize what you’re doing, you reach up to cup his cheek and bring his gaze back to yours. “Don’t talk like that. You’re not pathetic. These are valid concerns, and if you’ve been lied to for this long, you have every right to be upset.”

You’re so distracted by him, you barely even recognize the softness of his face. Your thumb runs gently along his cheekbone, and you watch as the frown fades from his features. Something you can’t recognize forms behind his irises, yet it still feels familiar. How do you explain how the normal beat of your heart hurts? How do you tell him that seeing him upset like this feels like needles running along your skin?

“My father would tell me I was foolish for hoping for love,” Chenle whispers. “He said it was a waste of time, since any man as busy as we are just isn't suited for it. For families.”

“If you’d asked me a few weeks ago, I would’ve agreed with him.” You squeeze his hand and give him a small smile.

“Something changed?” he asked.

“I don’t think that way anymore,” you admit. “Now, I’ve realized it’s about the amount of effort someone is willing to put in. It has nothing to do with time. We make time for those we care about.”

He leans into your touch as his eyes flutter shut. You admire the angelic glow the stars leave on his skin, and despite how tired he is, he’s still so fucking beautiful. Your throat dries at the sight, and you hate how it feels like your insides are at war.

“I like this,” he tells you. “Being with you like this.”

“Me, too.” You smile, even though he can’t see you. “You should try and sleep though. You’ll be exhausted tomorrow.”

His chest visibly deflates, and he places his hand on top of yours to pull it away from his face. “Of course. I…I’ll get going.”

You recoil, but you don’t let go of his other hand. “Oh. Is that what you want?” Nerves crawl around in your stomach. You figured he’d stay with you tonight, in his own bed. That maybe the two of you would learn to be better comforted by each other’s presence.

“You’re tired, and I’m keeping you up. I was inconsiderate.” He clears his throat.

“No, no,” you quickly interject. “That’s not what I meant at all. I’m only worried about you, so I was hoping you’d stay with me.”

“In here?” he asks.

You nod. “Yes. If it were my choice, you’d stay.”

“Damn, you got me there.” He delivers a tired grin and ultimately agrees. “I’d love that, (Y/N). Truly.”

You let him settle in beneath the comforter first, and he lifts it to allow you room to slide in next to him. Neither of you say anything else, but things seem to fall together naturally. He opens his arms, you push yourself against his chest, and then he wraps you up tightly in his warm embrace. He smells faintly of cologne, a soft, woody scent that engulfs you pleasantly. Despite the way you failed to fall asleep earlier, you struggle to remember a time you’d ever fallen into your dream world faster.

When you wake without Chenle in the morning, you’re sure you dreamed the last portion of the night. That is, until you see that it’s almost 10 am. You gasp and launch yourself out of bed. You never sleep in this late, so you quickly dress yourself and get ready for the day. Chenle’s side of the bed is mussed, so you determine it was, indeed, not a dream, and you make sure you look as presentable as your normal standard before you go downstairs to find where your husband disappeared to. The smell of breakfast emanates from the kitchen, so you naturally gravitate that way. When you step into the room, you’re taken aback by the company present. Not just your own parents, but Chenle’s as well. Your husband stands at the end of the table, clearly stressed with all of the people in your kitchen. He notices you first and breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of you.

“Wow,” you say as you approach Chenle and stand next to him. “Were we expecting everyone today?”

“Nope.” He chuckles and, much to apparently both of your surprises, he leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Everyone showed up an hour or so ago.”

Through the burning of your cheeks, your gaze shoots up to his and you lower your voice. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You looked really comfortable.” He shrugs.

“(Y/N), Chenle was just telling us that you’re accepting the COO position at his company,” your mother butts in. Of course, business talk immediately.

“Yes, we—”

“Isn’t that a little early? And don’t you have enough responsibilities as COO of my company?” your father grumbles, and you already start to shrink into yourself in his presence.

“She’s more than capable,” Chenle defends you. “If I didn’t think she could handle it, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Don’t interrupt their family discussions, Chenle, that’s rude,” his mother scolds him.

“This marriage was a merger, was it not?” Chenle raises an eyebrow. “Doesn’t that technically make our families interconnected now?”

“We’ll consider them officially connected when she’s had her first child.” Your father points his finger at you. “Speaking of which, what’s taking so long?”

Your jaw drops, and you shift uncomfortably. It’s one thing to talk about your husband getting you pregnant with your own father, but him being so comfortable spitting things out like that in front of Chenle’s parents as well has you feeling queasy.

“We’ve been married for two months.”

“Your mother was pregnant after three weeks.”

“I don’t really want to hear about you impregnating my mother—”

“You’re making excuses, (Y/N), you know what’s on the line here.” Your father tsks at you, sipping from his water glass.

“Sir, all due respect, but it’s not like we knew each other very well. We’re both still getting comfortable with each other. And we’re young. We have plenty of time to have children.” As soon as the words leave Chenle’s mouth, you reach over and grasp his hand. It’s not visible below the table, but he squeezes you in reassurance.

“And what happens if she were to die tomorrow? My bloodline dies with her?” Your father narrows his eyes at Chenle. Your heart sinks in your chest, and you scratch your forehead.

“Even if she were to be pregnant, if she died tomorrow there wouldn’t be an heir either way,” your husband replies.

“Is there a reason we’re having such a lovely family reunion?” you butt in, hoping to curve their conversation.

“Do we need a reason to visit our daughter?” your mother asks.

“Typically, yes.” You shrug. “You never show up unannounced.”

“Oh, I take it they haven’t seen the tabloids,” Chenle’s father mentions.

You stand from your spot and pull your phone out of your pocket to check. You hear Chenle whisper something to the group before he pushes his chair back to join you. Despite the anxiety crawling up your spine, the warmth of him right behind you calms you.

“They came here because there’s a couple articles of people being shocked that we like each other?” you hiss, tossing your phone on the counter.

“Breathe,” Chenle tells you, putting his hands on your shoulders. “They’ll eventually leave us alone, but we’ve got to placate them for now.”

“Placate them?” You turn to him and raise your eyebrow. “You exchanged words with my father.”

“He said stupid things.” Chenle shrugs.

You chuckle. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ah, but you said the people are surprised we like each other, so I’m assuming you enjoy how ridiculous I am.” He bites back a grin when he sees you blush.

“God, you’ve got to stop doing that.” You push gently at his chest and walk back to your parents and your in-laws.

“I’m not sure this is really something that should have blame assigned,” Chenle’s mother says. “I’ve seen married couples go years without children.”

You curse under your breath. Of course, this is still the topic of conversation.

“That’s not how it works in this family. Heirs come first immediately after marriage.” Your mother sips from a champagne flute.

“Well, that’s hardly Chenle’s fault—”

“He’s a man. How hard is it to impregnate a woman?” Your mother scoffs. “Please, she’s not ugly by any means.”

“Mother, dear God,” you snap. “Why in the world are we still talking about this?”

“I’m sorry, are you questioning my son’s…viability?” Chenle’s father narrows his eyes.

You want to combust into flames right then and there. The immediate assumption that the reason behind you not being with child yet is that Chenle simply can’t get it up. How fucking great.

“I’m just saying, there were other men contending for a contract that were more than willing—”

“That’s enough,” you shout.

You have four shocked faces staring at you, and you feel Chenle go rigid behind you.

“I am beyond tired of this conversation already. We’ve only been married for two months, and that’s just not enough time. I barely even knew him when I married him, and we’re trying to do this the normal way. As normally as we can.” You pause. “I’m the one that wants to wait. And it is a want, not a necessity, so neither of us are…sexually dysfunctional.”

Chenle holds back a laugh behind you, but four sets of eyes are still on you. And while it’s technically not the truth—as you’ve stated multiple times you’d be okay with having an heir quickly—you’d rather this portion of it fall on you than on him. Your parents would lose their minds.

“And let’s not forget that (Y/N) is a human with a career that’s just as important as mine,” your husband adds. “Having a child at this time could put her back immensely after all the hard work she’s put in. If she wants to wait, nobody should have a say in that other than her.”

With every word coming out of Chenle’s mouth, he gets more and more attractive to you. You wish today had been a simple morning, truly. One where you’d wake up with him next to you and he’d hold you for however long the two of you could stand to stay still for.

“You should be happy we’re trying to do this properly.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Love is a waste of time in a business arrangement.” Your father sets his empty water glass on the table.

“I agree. It’s better to get the obligations out of the way first, and then worry about trying to create something real,” Chenle’s father agrees.

“Right, because that worked out so well for you,” Chenle says.

Today was going to be a long, long day.

Your parents and in-laws stayed for another hour, and then they (thankfully) willingly left on their own accord. As soon as Chenle closes the door behind his parents, you sigh in relief and slump your back against the counter. He approaches you without a word, and almost like it’s instinct, you wrap your arms around him. Running his fingers through your hair, he holds you as close as he can.

“I’m sorry my parents implied you’re impotent,” you mutter, and you and Chenle burst into laughter at the same time.

“Wow. Clearly the only two options for an explanation as to why you’re not pregnant within two months are impotency or your husband not finding you attractive. Which, for the record, neither of those are an issue.”

“Gross. But thanks, I think?” You lean back slightly to look at him and find him smiling at you.

“Just being honest. If I was impotent, I would’ve told you before we married for business purposes. And if you don’t know how attractive you are at this point, that would be one of the world’s biggest mysteries.” He pulls you to him until your chest presses against his. “But, since I was so rudely torn away from my beautiful wife this morning by our nosy, no fucking good parents dropping in like we’re fifteen years old, I wanted to thank you for last night. Since I couldn’t earlier.”

“Thank me?” You frown and tilt your head.

“I needed that. I didn’t even know it, but I needed it,” Chenle tells you.

“Of course,” you murmur. “You never have to be alone for those moments.”

“Just for those moments?” He fakes a pout. “Does that mean I have to go back to my own room?”

You give him a pointed look, and then pretend to be lost in thought momentarily. “Pretty sure that’s only when you make me mad. I guess married couples argue and then the wives send the husbands to the couch. But in this case, there’s an extra bedroom. Or twenty.”

“Can I…can I try something?” he asks, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Yeah.” You nod.

“Close your eyes,” he mutters.

If he was anyone else, you’d be asking a million questions. But this is Chenle, and you’ve grown to realize he’s exactly who he said he is. You trust him inexplicably.

“Wow,” he says. “Not even a sarcastic comment. I think I’m winning you over.”

You open one eye, push at his shoulder, and then close it again. You’re more than tempted to open them again when his hands cup your cheeks. His thumbs caress your skin, and your breath gets caught in your throat. Your heart races in anticipation as you await his next move, craving whatever it is he wants to give you. You gasp quietly when you feel his lips brush yours, and your body tenses.

“Relax,” he whispers. “It’s me.”

You don’t give him the opportunity to finish closing the distance between you two. You do it for him. Pushing yourself forward, you seal the kiss with him quickly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close to you. He curses against you, and you follow suit when he wraps his arm around your waist and lifts you onto the counter. For a brief moment, he pulls away from you, chest heaving as he pants.

“Chenle.” You hate that it comes out as a whimper, but you love the way he reacts to it.

He kisses you again, harder this time while one of his hands tangles in your hair and the other sits on your thigh where the hem of your dress is. Instinctively, to make your dress ride up your legs more, you lift one and hike it up around his waist. The fabric slips past his fingertips, now resting much higher than it was before. You pull him closer until he’s right up against the lace of your panties.

“Fuck,” he curses lowly, digging his nails into your skin. “You’d better think this through, darling.”

A shiver runs down your spine, but heat floods your core. You need him.

“Please,” you whisper to him, watching as his eyes darken right in front of you. When you let your hand travel down his body, you smirk at how his length hardens further beneath your touch.

“Shit.” His hips unintentionally thrust into your hand. “Fuck, we should stop.”

You drop your head against his shoulder, retracting your hand away from him. “Well, impotency definitely won’t be a problem.”

He kisses up your neck. “Sorry. I don’t want to get carried away. Or even more carried away, I guess.”

“Look at me.” You wait for him to listen to you. “You don’t have to hold back if you don’t want to. Your desires are just as important as mine.”

“Before we…do anything, I need to make sure I have condoms.” He clears his throat and removes your leg from around his waist.

“Wait, what?” You frown and lean away from him. “What do we need those for?”

“Are you serious?” He takes a step back.

“Well, yeah. We’re married. We need to have children, why would we use condoms?” You run your fingers through your hair.

He sighs and runs his hands down his face. “We talked about this. I was under the impression that we were figuring this out first and then worrying about how and when we’d have children.”

“We can’t do both at the same time?”

“Did you ever think that maybe I don’t want kids yet?” He tilts his head at you and narrows his eyes. “Yes, I understand that’s part of the deal and why we’re even married in the first place, but I don’t want to even risk having kids if I don’t know it’s really me you want.”

Embarrassment floods through you, and you slide off the counter and send him back a few more paces. You pull your dress down and grimace at the thought of being in a position like that.

“After everything we’ve talked about and the time we’ve spent together, you really think that’s not true? You think I don’t want you?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. All of this is confusing. And then our parents are here pressuring you into having a kid, and you’re—”

“Oh, my God.” Your jaw drops, and you brush off your skirt. “You’re literally the one who kissed me. And then you put me on—God forbid I ask a simple question, right? That must mean I’m trying to jump your bones to get my way.”

“(Y/N), that’s not what I said—”

“Maybe not, but that’s sure as hell what you meant. And here I am, like a fucking idiot, letting you touch me when you think that fucking low of me.” You clench your fists at your side, and you’re unaccustomed to the way your heart twists so hard in your chest. “God, fuck you.”

You turn away from him and stomp off, painfully aware of your over-exaggeration. The logical side of you begs you to calm down, since both of your concerns are valid, but the side of you you’re experiencing for the first time is stronger than what you’re accustomed to. When you make it upstairs and to your room, you sit on the edge of the bed and force yourself to breathe. Chenle’s assumption hurt you. It’s as simple as that. You’ve let yourself like him, and now he has this power over you. With a simple miscommunication, it feels like everything is falling apart before it even begins.

You blink rapidly to stop the tears from welling in your eyes, and eventually, you’re more annoyed by your reaction than by the actual situation. The door creaks open, and Chenle walking in makes relief flood through your veins. He moves over to you and sits down next to you, reaching over to grab your hand.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You nod and lean into his chest, craving his comfort. He sighs, wraps his arms around you tightly, and strokes your hair. With your ear pressed against him, you hear how his heart beats just as hard as yours.

“I think we both got a little carried away there,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” you agree. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I got so upset.”

“I’m sorry, too.” He kisses the top of your head. “It’s never my intention to hurt you. Or to make you regret anything we do.”

You sit there in silence, appreciating the comfort he gives you simply by being next to you.

“I was…I don’t know. Embarrassed, I think.” You chuckle at yourself, but you don’t find it funny at all. “That you would think I’d just…do that without being truthful to you. I’ve had a lot of men assume things about me throughout my entire life. Because of my success, it’s either from my father handing it to me or because I slept my way to the top. So, I’m sure you can see why I had trouble comprehending that as anything else.”

“And I hope you know that’s not what I was thinking at all. I know how much of an influence your parents have had on you. All I ever want to do is make sure you’re making your choices for you. I never communicated that I would want to use condoms if we started sleeping together because I didn’t really assume we’d get there.” He squeezes you closer to him and takes a deep breath.

“I’m also sorry for yelling at you.” You scrunch your nose up and look at him. “That was…really weird.”

“Weird?” A small smile pulls at his lips.

“I’ve never felt anything like that before. And it’s scary that you have that kind of power over me, even if I know you wouldn’t use it against me intentionally.”

“Learning how to manage those feelings will come with the territory. Have some faith in me, alright? I’m not saying things just to bring you down.” He tilts your head up, his gaze scanning over your face. “I want you to be happy. Obviously, bonus points if I’m a part of that happiness.”

“You are.”

“Good. You deserve only good things in life, and I need to make sure you get them.”

He leans down and presses his lips to yours, gently working your mouths together. You sigh into him and tangle your fingers in his hair. Everything about this feels good. It has warmth spreading in your chest from knowing someone in this world cares for you beyond what you can give them. You know he wants you, but you also know he’s going to have your best interest in mind.

He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours. “We’ll learn each other, darling. Everything will work out the way it’s meant to.”

Whether intentionally or not, you and Chenle keep your distance from each other for a couple days. Today, however, you’ve no choice but to be around each other later for the board meeting, where they’ll vote on the CFO position. And your COO position, but Chenle made it very clear that the vote was simply a formality. You choose a black dress, zip it up, put your earrings in, and head downstairs, where your husband waits for you by the door. He looks at you as you stop on the bottom step, a loud clack coming from your heel.

“Yes?” You tilt your head at him.

“Are those earrings new?” He buttons his suit jacket.

“Not new.” You shake your head. “I just haven’t worn them since we married.”

“Right.” He walks over to you and offers you his arm. “Do you like receiving new things?”

You loop yours through his and allow him to guide you toward the door. “I guess that would depend on the context of receiving.”

“If I buy things for you, will they be well received?” he asks.

“You think you know me well enough to buy me things I’d enjoy?” You bite back a smile as he leads you outside and to the car.

With his hand on the small of your back, he helps you into the backseat before following. “I think I’d figure it out fairly quickly. I’m a smart man.”

“They…would be received. Maybe not well, but received nonetheless.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, relaxing against the seat. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I can’t make it too easy for you.” You purse your lips, and without much thought, you scoot closer to him and place your hand on his.

“I don’t think easy is the right word for most things when it comes to you.” He laughs, turning his smile toward you.

“Most things?”

“Being with you is easy. Or around you, I should say. You’re pleasant company. Easy to have an intellectual conversation with, easy to relax around. Those are the easy things.”

“Wow.” You bite back your grin. “You sure know how to woo a woman.”

“Not just any woman,” he interjects. “My wife.”

“Your wife.” It’s the first time you’ve called yourself that out loud, and it has a weird, unrecognizable feeling sprouting in your stomach.

“I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but it seems like you’re coming around a little bit.” He nudges you gently. “I’m not sure how it’s possible, but I’ve missed you the past few days. After the other day, I wanted to give you space in case you didn’t want to see me, but I should’ve thought to ask you.”

He stares down at where your hands are connected, his thumb rubbing against your skin.

You fight the urge to touch his face again. “I…I’ve missed you, too, I think.”

“You think?” Humor laces in his tone.

“I don’t know. I’ve never wanted to be around someone like this before.” You shrug, heat gathering in your cheeks. “Forgive me while I navigate whatever’s going on inside my brain.”

“I want to know everything you’re thinking,” he murmurs, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Every joke, unimportant sentence, emotion, process. I want to know you.”

You lean forward and press your lips to his without a single thought in your head, but he reciprocates with ease. Almost as if he’s not taken off-guard in the slightest.

“I could get used to that,” he says against your lips. “No more silence, okay? I don’t want to be away from you.”

“No more silence,” you agree.

When the two of you pull away from each other, your eyes widen at the sight of your lipstick on his lips. You grab his arm to stop him from getting out of the car and use your thumb to wipe the excess away.

“Made a mess, did you?” He grabs your wrist to stop you. “You don’t want anyone to see that you like me that much?”

A grin follows his words, and he grabs his handkerchief out of his pocket.

“No one can know I actually have a heart,” you interject, watching as he wipes his mouth.

“Alright.” He puts his hand on your knee and squeezes. “Are you ready?”

If there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s the overwhelming attraction you have for Chenle. You take him in for a moment, the dark sweep of his hair parted to reveal his forehead, the way he grips you, the way he watches you as if you’re the only person in the world to exist.

“Before we go,” you start, chuckling quietly at yourself for the question you’re about to ask him. “Did…did you ever get condoms?”

His lips part in shock, and he blinks and flounders for words for a solid few seconds before he clears his throat. “I…I mean, I did, but not because I thought we would—it was just a precaution, you know?”

“Do I make you, Zhong Chenle, so nervous that you’re stuttering right now?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He pats your thigh. “Absolutely, you do.”

You silently thank whoever made this car for the partition between the driver and you and Chenle. “I could do so many other things to you that are so much better.” You gently touch his tie, wrapping your fingers around the fabric and pulling on it to bring him closer to you.

“I truly have no doubt that’s true.” He wets his lips. “If we don’t get out of this car in the next ten seconds, I’m having the driver fucking turn us around. We can’t miss the vote.”

“I guess receiving the title of COO is a little more important than banging my husband.”

“Fuck, I need to get out right now.” He glances up at the ceiling and throws the door open without any more hesitation. Like usual, he turns and offers you his hand.

You take it gratefully, and you loop your arm through his once your feet are safely on the ground. While you follow his lead, you realize something that has the gears in your brain turning. Chenle is the only man you’ve ever accepted guidance from. As miniscule as it seems to allow him to walk you inside, you can’t deny how you’d willingly follow him wherever he may go.

The vote does go off without a hitch, and not even half an hour after you receive your title, you’re in an office plugging away at whatever work needs to be done. Unfortunately, you’re awfully distracted by the thought of Chenle by himself down the hall. A knock on the glass door jolts you out of your thoughts. You see Jeno standing there with a file in his hands. You beckon for him to come in, and he gestures at the seat as if to ask you if he can sit.

“Please.” You nod, folding your hands together. “Did you need something?”

The man hands you the file. “We were able to trace the owner of the bank account, and an address associated with it. I…I figured it’d be best to leave this information with you, given that this could be sensitive information.”

You open it, glancing through the charges. “It started with a different bank account and name.”

“It did. Payments were originally made to a Liu Shuye, and just over two years ago, the bank account switched to a Liu Sujia.” Jeno pauses and takes a deep breath. “I think it’d be better for you to do this portion of it on your own.”

“They have different surnames.” You tap your pen on your desk. “And you’ve never heard of this person before today?”

“Not once.”

“Very well.” You sigh and close the folder, gaze meeting Jeno’s. “Thank you. I’ll look into this further and determine at what point Chenle needs to be involved. For now, Jeno, keep this between us.”

“Of course.” Jeno nods and stands. With a quick bow of his head, he moves to the door. “He’s a good man, (Y/N). Chenle, I mean. But he feels too easily, so tread carefully with whatever you find.”

“I will.”

Once Jeno departs, you cross your arms over your chest and stare down at the information delivered. These payments were made for years, so you’re unsure of how this could relate to Chenle in specific, but you feel an overwhelming resolve to make sure whatever this is doesn’t hurt him.

Chenle came to get you from your office at almost 7pm. He refused to let you work any longer and insisted he had to take you home. Your mind has been turning since Jeno brought you the documents, but you leave them buried in your desk and lay your head on Chenle’s shoulder for the duration of the car ride home. Once you're inside the house, Chenle takes your jacket off your shoulders and hangs it. You turn to him and grab his hand.

“Come to bed with me?” you ask.

“Of course.” He gives you the softest smile, and as you walk up the stairs, he follows closely behind you.

The two of you step inside his room. Chenle closes the door and then wraps his arms around your waist and tugs your back to his chest. He buries his head in your neck, a hum escaping past his lips.

“Are you tired?” you ask him, reaching up to play with his hair.

“No,” he mumbles. “I just want to be close to you. It’s been a long day, and you make me feel better.”

“Is that so?” You face him and tilt your head.

“I was scared to fall for you, too,” he whispers. “For anyone, but especially you. I know the reasons we’re here are vastly different from a conventional marriage, but I already wanted you before all of this.”

Your heart thuds in your chest as you realize his use of past tense. He was scared. Does that mean he already has fallen for you?

“C’mere,” you mutter. “We can be closer.”

“Are you sure?” He cups your cheeks, thumbing your skin. “I know we’ve gone back and forth a couple times, but I need you to know you don’t have to do anything for me. Ever.”

“Kiss me, Chenle.”

All events of the day are forgotten as soon as his lips are on yours. His hands explore along your back, fingers clenching onto the fabric of your dress as he inhales shakily. When he pulls away, it’s only for a second, as if he can’t stop himself from going back for more.

“Please tell me this means something to you.” He gulps, his words punctuated by kisses as he turns you around and walks you backward. “That I’m not crazy for wanting you the way I do.”

As the back of your knees make contact with the bed, you grip onto his shoulders, breathless from the passion behind his kiss. “You’re not crazy. It’s terrifying how fast you’ve become all I think about. Your smile and your laugh and the passion you carry. This means everything to me.”

His eyes sparkle in the lamp-lit room, a warmth dancing around in them you’ve never seen from anyone before. He finds the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down.

“I hope you truly know how fucking exquisite you are,” Chenle murmurs, removing the fabric from your body and returning his touch to your back to explore your bare skin. “I don’t want to fight these feelings anymore.”

“Do something about it, then.”

The heat radiating from him keeps the chill of the air in the room off of your skin, and after he guides your back down on the mattress, he haphazardly tosses his suit jacket away. You scoot back to give him more space, and he climbs on top of you. You part your legs further, nearly gasping when he takes his spot between them, pressing against you as if he were made to fill that space. As he takes your lips with his own, you work on the buttons of his shirt. Your hands shake, making it difficult, but he doesn’t mention it. He keeps kissing you like he’ll die of thirst the second he pulls away.

You finally get the last one, and he sits up briefly to rid himself of the extra material. Before it’s even completely removed, you reach down for his belt. He stares at your hands as you unbuckle it, but you don’t have time to slide it off him. When his mouth crashes into yours again, you lift your hips up.

A quiet, needy sigh passes through his lips. “God, I fucking need you so bad.”

“I’m yours,” you tell him. “Show me how much you need me.”

He grinds down against you, and his hard length slides against the wet spot in your lace panties. That time, you do gasp. It’s been much too long since you allowed yourself pleasure by another’s hand, and you crave that closeness with Chenle.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, voice rough.

“Please.” You nod. “Touch me wherever you want.”

He curses under his breath, but he presses his lips to yours once more, then along your jawline, down your neck, and paying attention to the valley between your breasts. He squeezes the right one, rubbing his thumb against your nipple through the somewhat thick material.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” He nips at your skin, and you already know he’ll leave marks on you. Pausing, he takes a deep breath. “You—you’ve done this before, right?”

“Done what?”

“Sex.”

“I have. Why?”

“No, I just…you said you’d never been in love before and I didn’t want to just assume that you—”

“Just keep going.” You blush, but he listens to your command without hesitation.

When his mouth continues downward, leaving a trail of his saliva on your stomach until he reaches the hem of your panties. He tongues along the band, his eyes flicking up to yours.

“Good God,” you whisper, the urge between your legs becoming far too much for comfort. “What are you doing?”

“Getting my fill.” He leaves open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs.

When his thumb brushes your clit through your panties, your hips jolt. You curse, grasping onto the sheets as you prepare yourself for whatever he has planned. He smirks at your reaction, and as he pulls at your underwear, you lift up to urge him to move faster. He wraps his arms around your legs, his hands pressing your hips down into the mattress. Even though he opens his mouth to speak to you, his eyes don’t leave your glistening core.

“You can stop me if you change your mind. Just tell me.” He gulps, wetting his lips like he’s struggling to hold back.

“I won’t change my mind,” you reassure him.

“But you need to know it’s always an option.” He squeezes you gently, and without awaiting your response, he slides his tongue from your entrance to your clit.

No matter how embarrassing it is, you can’t stop the whimper escaping you. His tongue flicks your clit one, two, three times as he digs his nails into your skin. Pleasure isn’t entirely foreign to you, but you’re sure it’s the way your soul has begun craving Chenle’s that makes this so much better than anything else you’ve experienced. His grip on you keeps you from squirming too much, but you try regardless. As he steadily moves over your clit, your back arches off the mattress. Whines leave your mouth as you run your fingers through Chenle’s hair in encouragement.

He takes your sensitive bud into his mouth, sucking to add pressure, only to release it and start all over again. You lift yourself on your elbows to watch him, all while practically pushing his head further between your legs. His eyes are closed, and seeing his lips work on your core has to be one of the most erotic things you’ve ever witnessed.

“You taste so fucking good,” he groans, the vibrations against your entrance sending shivers up and down your spine.

You feel yourself approaching the edge. Your body tenses, but your high won’t take you. Cursing quietly, you lift your hips in an attempt to figure out why the hell you can’t get out of your head. Chenle pulls away from your core, pressing kisses to your inner thigh. “Relax, darling. It doesn’t matter how long it takes.”

“Please just…” You drop your head back on the mattress and let out a defeated breath. “I want all of you.”

He leans over to the bedside table and grabs a condom, trailing his lips up your body once more until he reaches your neck. His teeth graze your skin. “You can trust me, (Y/N). I’ll take care of you.”

“I do,” you mutter, running your fingers through his hair. “I swear I do.”

“It’s not me you have to convince.” He nips your collarbone. “We don’t have to keep going if you’re not ready.”

You shake your head. “I’m ready. I want you.”

“Okay.” He nods, pulling back to meet your gaze. His features are soft, nothing short of adoration in his eyes. “Try not to think about it too much. Just feel.”

“I’ve never been good at that.” You chuckle and grin at him.

“I’ll show you how, baby. I’ve got you.”

You crane upwards to kiss him, and he meets you in the middle. Tasting yourself on his tongue has you sighing into him, and you push at his pants in hopes that he’ll take the hint. He pauses to rid himself of the rest of his clothing, and then slides his hands beneath you to unclasp your bra. You arch your back to give him more space, and soon enough, nothing separates you from your husband anymore.

“You’re sure?” he asks you again, grabbing the wrapper once more.

“I want you,” you confirm.

Despite the confidence you usually feel, something here feels more…vulnerable than you’ve ever been. Your heart flutters in your chest as he opens the condom and slides it on, and you spread your legs further as he climbs over you again. No man has ever made you nervous before, even in similar situations, but something with him is different. You care about him. You want him to feel good, too, and you crave his promises of taking care of you.

“Need you to relax,” he whispers, peppering kisses on your jawline as he lines himself up with your soaked entrance. “Close your eyes, darling, just let yourself feel.”

You tilt your head back to give him better access to your neck, and you listen to him. Through the darkness, you see the world you drew on his ceiling, the one with beautiful landscapes, overarching mountains, fresh, clean streams, and you sigh in content. The middle of the map, the location you craved to be in, is right here. With him. His breath catches in his throat as he slides inside you, his length stretching you. He gulps and rests his head on your shoulder as he attempts to steady himself. You tangle your fingers in his hair, combing through the midnight strands. After both of you calm down from the initial overwhelming movement, you wrap your legs around his waist and lock your ankles together, tugging him up to kiss you. His lips work softly on yours, and he slowly grinds against you. He pulls out until only the tip is inside, and as he pushes back in, he moans into your mouth. Your body shudders at the sound.

“Tell me how it feels,” he says, chest pressed to yours. “How do I make you feel?”

“Chenle, I—” You blush despite the situation.

“You don’t have to be shy with me, baby. Let me help you.” He repeats his previous movement, and you watch as his eyes flutter from the pleasure. “I can tell you how it feels for me.”

You nod. “Please.”

The pace he sets is slow but has electricity coursing through your veins anyway. He continues to pull out almost all the way, just to allow you to experience the entirety of his length rubbing against your inner walls.

He gulps, pressing his lips to your ear. “You’re divine, darling. You’re squeezing me so tight, I could stay here forever. It’s like you were fucking made for me, soaked and so fucking warm, baby, you take me so well.”

Everything he does is like a lightning strike, every fiber in your muscles breaking down as you yearn for this completion. You know you’ll never be able to stay away from him. Even if you don’t finish, this journey is just as good as the destination.

“Feels like I’m on fire,” you whisper. Thankfully, your eyes are closed, or he’d see them roll back. “You’re everywhere and it’s still not enough.”

He picks up his pace a bit, and a moan tumbles from your lips. He holds himself up on one of his elbows, his other hand gripping your thigh.

“That’s it.” He kisses you, gently biting at your bottom lip as he pulls away. “I could never have enough of you. Need you always. Forever.”

Your heart thuds against your ribcage, and despite the pleasure clouding your brain, you allow those words to sink in through your skin and bones, deeper still until they reach your soul. There, they repeat over and over again until they’re permanently tattooed upon every recognizable piece of yourself. The hand on your thigh skirts downwards, his palm pressing on your abdomen as his thumb brushes your clit. You jolt and whine, digging your nails into his shoulders. He curses, but doesn’t let up. As the knot forms in your stomach, you open your eyes to watch Chenle, his face scrunched in pleasure as your walls flutter around him as your high approaches. He doesn’t look away from you, and as you lift your hips to match his thrusts, his fist clenches the sheets next to your head.

“So fucking wet,” he groans, his thumb never faltering in pace as he rocks his hips against yours. “You’re so perfect, darling. Gonna let me feel you cum?”

Between the slide of his length inside you and the pressure on your sensitive bud, you’re dazed at best. You nod, gripping onto him.

“I’m so close,” you whimper. “God, I want it so bad.”

Chenle adjusts his hips, and the next time he thrusts in, he hits a spot that has you seeing stars. You’ve never unraveled like this before, but your body shakes as overwhelming pleasure takes over, your vision spotting as you cry out and grip onto your husband. Your toes curl as he quickens his pace, and it doesn’t take much longer for him to press himself as deep as he can to finish in the condom. His body slumps on top of yours, his chest heaving as he presses his lips across your hot skin.

“(Y/N)...” he says between pants. “Oh, my God.”

You let out a breathless giggle. “I didn’t do any of the work.”

“Promise you, just you being here is more than enough for me.” He kisses your cheek and gently removes your legs from his waist. “I’ll be right back.”

You stop yourself from whining at the loss of him inside you, but as he goes to dispose of the condom, you get yourself clothes to put on. You slide a new pair of panties on before setting your silk pajama set on the bed.

Chenle’s arm wraps around your waist, and he presses his back to your chest. “What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed.” You chuckle. “What should I be doing?”

“Absolutely nothing.” He presses a kiss to the base of your neck. “Supposed to be naked in bed and waiting for me.”

“Ah, is that so?” You pretend to be in thought, tapping your fingers on his wrist.

“Mhm. Don’t you know bare skin-to-skin contact promotes good bonding?” He pulls you away from the foot of the bed and guides you back to where he left you. “Bet you’ll sleep better, too.”

The two of you climb into bed together, and despite the way your internal temperature is much too high, you still thrive in the extra warmth of his embrace. You rest your head on his chest, his nails gently scratching up and down your back. He falls asleep first, his steady breathing nearly lulling you as well. You adjust your head on the pillow so you can see the softness of his features, and you allow yourself to reach up and trace along his cheekbone. If anyone had asked you at the beginning if you’d ever thought a moment as intimate as this were possible, you’d quickly tell them no. There was no way you’d ever let yourself be so vulnerable with anyone. Especially not someone who has no obligations to you other than legally marrying you.

But this is more. It’s so much more than a business arrangement, and maybe a part of you has always known that. It wasn’t hating him you were scared of, but loving him.

But here you are. And you’re long past falling.

Your morning is unfortunately hectic in the wake of the events of last night. Of course, you should’ve expected moments of relaxation in your marriage to be nearly non-existent, but neither you nor Chenle wanted to get out of bed. Despite that, today you planned on going to the address listed on the bank account. You roped Jisung in, even though he didn’t know all the details. He’s your cousin, after all, and he wasn’t going to let you do anything potentially dangerous on your own. Although, you’re not sure he could do anything in a ‘dangerous’ situation anyway. He may be physically giant, but he truly acted like a teddy bear.

You and Jisung sit in the backseat while the driver takes you to the house, and you’re flipping through a binder of papers while Jisung is on his phone.

“You know.” He pauses, waiting for your attention. “I stopped by your house last night.”

You turn to him and frown. “You did? How come I didn’t see you?”

“When I arrived, the staff said it would be best not to interrupt you at the time. They didn’t really say why, but I can only imagine. Either you and Chenle were in the process of murdering each other, or you guys are really going all in on the heir making.”

Your face heats up and you scratch your head. “I—I took your advice, is all. We’re kind of trying to figure things out, I think.”

“Uh huh. So the turtleneck isn’t a strategic move?”

“Park Jisung!” You push his shoulder. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“No, of course not.” He bites back his teasing grin. “I’m just saying, it’s good that you’re opening up to him. You guys are pretty much stuck together, so you should at least try to make the best of things.”

“But yes, we are certainly…making the best of things.” You grin to yourself and focus back on your binder.

“So, I can stop hearing your dad complain about no heir news soon?” He rolls his eyes. “That man is truly insufferable.”

You shake your head. “Can’t say the possibility is zero, but we used protection, so probably not. And yes, my father is insufferable. When he came over last time, he implied Chenle was impotent in front of both of his parents.”

“I’m shocked by both—why not try for pregnancy if you’re already sleeping together? And why would you not being pregnant after two months mean Chenle’s impotent?”

“You just live for drama, don’t you?” You quirk an eyebrow at him. “My husband would prefer to only have a family if it’s a real one. Meaning we would love each other. And I don’t question my father’s logic. I’m not sure how he got as far as he has in business when he lacks so much common sense. Like I’m a breeding mule or something.”

“Huh.” Jisung pauses and slumps back against his seat. “Aren’t you lucky?”

“Luck has nothing to do with it, Andy. None of this is short of hard work.”

Your driver opens the door, and before Jisung can respond, you’re stepping onto the sidewalk. The house in front of you is in a suburb, an exact replica of everything else around it. It’s not remarkable by any means. For someone making over half a million dollars every year, they sure do still live modestly.

“Don’t say a word,” you warn Jisung. “I’ll handle this.”

“Considering I have no idea what’s going on, I will happily let that happen.”

You stop at the front door, knocking three times. Standing completely rigid, you wait for anyone to answer. Once it opens, you’re confronted by a surprised woman. Her hair is long and black, reaching the center of her back. Brown eyes widen in shock.

“You can’t be here.” She moves to shut the door, but Jisung stops it over your shoulder.

“I’m—”

“You’re Chenle’s wife. I know who you are.” Her jaw tightens. “You need to go.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not an option. I’m here on company business, because apparently someone decided sending $143,000 a quarter to your bank account was acceptable. You can let me in, or we can make a spectacle out here. It’s your choice.”

The woman, who can’t be too far from your age, blinks through her frustration and opens the door wider for you to step inside. You do, and she gestures to the couch.

“Have a seat. I’ll grab us all some water.” She exits the room, and you and Jisung sit down on the couch.

Despite you being resilient in hiding your nerves from people, Jisung is able to read you like a book. “Don’t jump to conclusions,” Jisung warns you quietly. “You have no idea what’s going on.”

“Right. Only her being familiar enough with my husband to only use his first name. Not a big deal at all.” You clench your fists together.

“You said he had no idea about the payments.”

“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t know her.” You shake your head. “He has no idea I’m here.”

Movement catches your attention, and you see eyes peeking around the corner. Your jaw drops before you can stop yourself, and then the small child steps into the open. You grasp onto Jisung’s sleeve, and those conclusions he told you not to jump to? Yeah, you dive into them.

“Who are you?” he asks. He can’t be more than four, and he looks achingly familiar.

“Jisung,” you whisper.

Jisung leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m Jisung. Who are you?”

“My name is Yichen.” He walks over and sits on the coffee table in front of you and your cousin. “I’m almost five.”

“Wow,” Jisung feigns surprise. “You’re getting so old.”

“That’s what my mommy says, too.” He scrunches up his face.

You’re struggling to breathe at this point, and that’s when Sujia decides to come back. She curses under her breath the second she recognizes her child in the room, and she quickly sets the glasses of water down before shooing him back up the stairs. You’re suddenly, painfully aware of Chenle telling you he’s been in love before. Of knowing there are women out there he’s wanted in the same way he’s sure he wants you.

“I think I’m going to puke,” you whisper to Jisung, careful not to let Sujia hear. “You don’t think…?”

Before Jisung can confirm or deny whether your suspicions are valid, Sujia sits across from you on the couch. The first thing you do is look for a ring on her finger, and when you don’t find one, you feel an unmistakable lump form in your throat.

“Why are you here?” she asks. “I’ve done everything I was supposed to. I haven’t told anyone anything, and my son and I are peacefully living far away from everything.”

“That’s the issue. I haven’t the faintest clue who you struck some sort of deal with for this money, nor do I know why. And if you want the payments to continue, you’ll tell me everything.”

“Is there something in specific you’d like to ask?” She frowns.

“What makes you say that?”

“You suddenly look like you’re ready to rip my throat out,” Sujia retorts.

“The child. Is he Chenle’s?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Sujia visibly recoils, eyes widening as she glances between you and Jisung. “You…Are you joking? Of course not. Chenle—dear God, Chenle’s my brother.”

You swear your life flashed before your eyes, and as you drop your head into your hands, you let out a shaky sigh of relief. Your heart still races, but it starts to slow at the news that your husband doesn’t have a secret child.

“I’m sorry, your brother?” Jisung asks. “I wasn’t aware Chenle had any siblings.”

“No one is. That’s why we’re receiving the payments.” She pauses, wetting her lips. “Chenle’s father—our father—met my mother many years ago. I see him quite often, and he’s aware he has a grandchild. I figured he never told Chenle, and this confirms my suspicions. Considering his parents never divorced, I can only assume it’s because she is also unaware.”

“He recently became aware of the payments.” Because of you. “And quite honestly, I don’t think this news will sit well with him.”

“Don’t.” Sujia shakes her head frantically. “Don’t tell him. We…We need that money, okay? And he has full power to take it away from us.”

“Do you know anything about him?” you ask her.

“Just what our father told me.”

“Chenle is exponentially kind. He’d never simply cut ties and leave you to struggle. It’s not like you lied to him by choice.” You take a deep breath and brush your skirt off. “He’s the best man I know. And for that reason, I could never intentionally keep this from him. I’m sorry.”

“I understand.” Sujia runs her tongue along her teeth.

“And on the off chance he doesn’t continue payments, I will personally make sure you’re okay.”

“You actually care about him.” She tilts her head at you.

“It’s hard not to care for someone like him.” You stand up. “I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time. And for thinking your child was my husband’s. Thank you for talking to me. Can we exchange numbers? I can keep you updated on how things go.”

You make haste of retrieving her number, and then you and Jisung leave the house. Once you're back in the car, you let out a long, pent up breath. You tug your fingers through your hair and curse quietly.

“Are you okay?” Jisung asks.

“Honestly? I’m okay now that I know this isn’t Chenle’s fuck up.” You nod. “I think I need to pay his father a visit.”

“You’re going to confront…his father?”

“I’m going to confirm the story, obviously. And if it’s true, I’m going to tell him what an incredible fuck up he is.” You turn off the emotions switch, your face going stone cold. “Chenle looks up to that prick.”

When you arrive at his parents’ house, you’re greeted by staff and Chenle’s mother. Jisung opts to stay in the car, and his mother rushes to bring you further into the house.

“Ah, (Y/N), what a pleasant surprise.”

Not if she doesn’t know about the secret child.

“What brings you here?” she asks.

“Chenle requested I bring these files for his father. Is he here?” You smile at her.

“Of course. He’s in his office. It’s down the hall, all the way to the back on the right.” She pats your shoulder.

You bow your head to her in thanks, and then you make your way down the hall. Knocking once, you await his confirmation to walk in. He sits behind the giant desk, glasses hanging on the edge of his nose. You note a lot of Chenle’s features come from him, but you can’t believe how vastly different they truly are.

“(Y/N).” He leans back on his chair. “Was I expecting you?”

“No.” You approach him and drop the paper with her bank account information on it. “Liu Sujia.”

His eyes widen, barely noticeably, and he looks at you. “Where did you hear that name?”

“Did you think no one would notice payments that high to a random bank account? From the company?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. A bank account means nothing. You can’t even be sure I was the one facilitating such payments. Chenle has been CEO for years now, so it’s been under his nose, too—”

“I don’t need your excuses. Or your explanations. You’re not my father, and quite frankly, I don’t care about the state of your family.” You glare at the man in front of you. “But I also spoke with Ms. Liu. She has a child. Your grandson, and Chenle’s nephew. You think he doesn’t deserve to know?”

“If you don’t care about the state of my family, why are you doing this now?”

“Because I care about my family. And the second Chenle married me, he became part of it. And while you may not love your son, I do. I won’t let you lie to him.” The words fall right out without a second thought, and you fight the embarrassment of admitting your feelings to his father before Chenle.

“So, why come here? Why not go right to Chenle?”

“I’m sure he will have his own things to say to you later. I wanted the chance to let you know, objectively, what a selfish asshole you are. Your son idolizes you for the life you built for him. For showing him that a man can be loyal to a wife he may not love, if not for his child’s sake. But you weren’t. Everything he respects you for is a lie, and you’re despicable for being okay with that.”

“How dare you come into my home and talk to me this way?” His eyebrows furrow in anger, and he leans forward, but you don’t even flinch.

“I don’t fear you,” you hiss at him. “You are human, just like everyone else. If you deserve to be scolded like a child, I have no problem being the only one with enough balls to do it. If you lose Chenle because of this, I hope you lie in your fucking grave. I’ll pay people to dance on it.”

You turn your back on him, throwing the door open and stomping down the hallway before you give him the opportunity to say anything else. Sending a smile towards Chenle’s mother, you nod once at her before walking back outside to your car.

Gaining the courage to tell Chenle takes much longer than you’d like. You get back to your office, finding Chenle waiting for you. He smiles at you, one of his genuine, happy ones, and presses a quick kiss to your lips as you approach him.

“I never thought I’d find a time where the CEO’s not busy,” you tease him. “What are you doing here?”

“I figured we could take a break and go get some lunch.” He tugs you closer. “It’s been a long day, and all I want is to be with my wife. Is that so wrong?”

You purse your lips and tilt your head. “Wrong? No. Crazy? Maybe a smidge.”

“Wow, you just called me crazy. That hurt.” He chuckles.

“How about we just order something and eat it here?” you ask. “I have a bunch of stuff to do, but I would love for you to be with me.”

“Of course. What did you want to eat? I’ll tell the secretary to order it.”

“Whatever you’re thinking is good,” you tell him, leaning back on your desk. “I’m not too picky.”

“I’ll be right back.” He kisses your cheek, and when he closes the door behind him, you let out a sigh. It feels like you’re lying to him now, but you couldn’t drop something huge like that on him now.

Not when he was looking at you with such affection. What if you telling him this makes him hate you, too?

When he comes back, he sits across from you and rests his head on his palm. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” You frown at him. “What do you mean?”

“You’re just acting…different, I don’t know. Is this about last night? Did I do something wrong?” His forehead creases with worry, and your heart sinks in your chest.

“No, no, last night was good. I really liked last night.” You try to fight off the embarrassment at your words, but it doesn’t work very well. The tips of your ears burn.

“Okay.” He reaches across the desk and grabs your hand. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going on. As long as I’m not the one making you feel that way, I can wait until you want to talk about it.”

“Chenle,” you whisper, squeezing him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being you.” You glance down. “For not being what I expected.”

“I want to take care of you. Not because I think you can’t, but because I want to. I can be a safe space for you, and I’d never do anything to harm that image.”

You stand up and walk over to him, grabbing both of his hands. “I think I might be able to let you do that.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this.” He pulls you closer until you’re straddling his lap. “You amaze me every day.”

“We’re at work,” you scold him.

“I don’t see you trying to move,” he teases, palms exploring your back. “I was kinda sad we had to rush this morning. I would’ve loved to just lay there with you for as long as possible.”

You relax on top of him, fighting a smile as you study him closely. “I need to stop wearing lipstick.”

“Why?” he asks. “Do you wanna kiss me again?”

“I want to kiss you a lot.” You nod.

“I can wipe lipstick off.”

“What if mine gets smudged?”

“Tell people to mind their business. We’re newlyweds.” He watches your expression as his hands dip down to grip your ass through your dress. “I think the newlywed era started yesterday. Because all I want to do is be with you. All over you. Inside you.”

“Jesus Christ, Chenle.” You smack his chest. “Composure.”

He grins. “C’mon. You were thinking it, too.”

“We certainly can’t do it here,” you tell him.

“It’s my building.”

You give him a pointed look. “I’m trying to get your employees to respect me. They won’t if they think I’m here simply because I let you screw me on the desk.”

“I gave you the position before I ever even slept with you.”

“They don’t know that.” You roll your eyes and clamber off his lap. “There actually is something I wanted to talk to you about later at home. Are you leaving at a decent time?”

“I figured we’d leave together whenever you were done. If that’s okay.” Chenle clasps his hands together in his lap.

“Perfect.”

Before you do anything else with him, you need to tell him about his father. You just hope you don’t lose your husband in the process.

You bring the binder home with you. On the car ride home, you loop your arm through Chenle’s and rest your head on his shoulder. He can sense your nervous energy and tries to soothe you with a kiss to your head. You and Chenle go upstairs, and you sit on the edge of the bed. He follows suit despite your nerves transferring into him the longer you stay silent.

“I wanted to talk to you about that charge we found.” You put your hand on his knee. “And it’s a lot, okay? So I just want you to listen to me.”

He frowns but nods in response.

“Jeno and Jisung helped me with it. Jeno found out the account belonged to a woman, and there was an address associated with it. Jisung went with me to the house, and when we got there, I met with the woman.” You pause and scratch the top of your head. “She has a little boy. He’s almost five. And to be honest, it was a possibility in my head that you might’ve…I don’t know, accidentally fathered a child, but thankfully, it wasn’t that.”

“(Y/N), who is she?”

“She’s your sister. Your half-sister, I guess.” You gulp, refusing to make eye contact with him. “And the little boy is your nephew.”

“Oh.” His voice shakes uncharacteristically, and he inhales.

“Your dad has been paying her and her mother off for years so you and your mother didn’t find out.” You close your eyes. “And she begged me not to tell you because she’s scared she’ll stop receiving her money. Which I get, honestly, but I couldn’t keep this from you. Not when I know how—”

“(Y/N), please. I need a second.” He drops his head in his palms. His jaw tightens, and he angles his gaze to the ceiling.

“Come here,” you murmur, opening your arms for him. Immediately, he melts into your grasp, resting on your chest as you stroke the top of his head. “I’m so sorry.”

He grasps the fabric of your dress in his fist as he uses you to ground himself. “The whole time I admired him for being better, he just fucking sucked?”

You can’t tell if it’s anger or sadness that makes his voice shake.

“You’re sure?”

You nod. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that,” he tells you. “You didn’t do this.”

“No, I didn’t, but I love you, Chenle. I hate seeing you like this.” You and Chenle both tense up. He lifts his head to look at you, and your heart nearly shatters at the welled up tears in his eyes. You keep looking at him, more than nervous for his response.

“What?” His voice is hoarse, almost like it’s caught in his throat. “What did you say?”

“It’s not important right now, okay? I wasn’t thinking.” Your own tears form, and you try your best to blink them away. “No thinking, just feeling didn’t really work in this situation, huh?”

“You love me?” He cups your cheek and turns you to him. “Do you mean that?”

“Are you kidding me?” You scoff. “Of course, I do.”

You shouldn’t have done that now, given how overwhelmed he is, but it truly slipped out. He stares at you in shock, and when he parts his lips, a tear slips down his cheek. You shake your head, reaching forward and wiping it away with your thumb.

“Don’t cry,” you say. “This is all so much, I shouldn’t have dropped that on you like this, I’m so sorry—”

“Stop apologizing. Please.”

“I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

“Darling, at this point, you’re the only one who hasn’t.” He rests his forehead on yours. “And you…you loving me makes all of this worth it. Nobody has that power over me when I have you by my side.”

“I do. I love you.” You sniffle and hold him tighter.

“I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you walk into the room. I love you when you’re a thousand steps ahead of me, and I love you when you’re walking my pace. All the time, without fail and without reprieve.”

Every bit of oxygen is stolen right from your lungs, and all you want to do is scream and cry and punch his father in the face. Such a pathetic man doesn’t deserve a son like Chenle.

“Zhong Chenle, you’ve broken me in all the best ways. That terrible wall, the shell around my heart…I don’t want to face the world alone anymore. I need you with me.” You rub your thumbs along his cheeks, swiping up the next couple tears that fall.

“I will be better than my father. Than yours. We’ll do this the right way, okay?” He inhales sharply.

“I don’t doubt that one bit.” You lean forward and kiss his forehead. “What are you thinking? What do you want to do about all of this?”

“I’d like to meet her. My sister. And my nephew.” He chews the inside of his cheek. “She won’t have to worry about money. We’ll have to stop paying her through the company, but it’ll come out of our personal account. If that’s alright with you.”

“Somehow, I had a feeling you’d say that. Of course, that’s okay with me.”

“Can you set that up please?” he asks softly. “I honestly don’t know how, and she already knows you so…”

“You don’t have to explain. I’ll do it.” You run your fingers through his hair. “You’re the bravest person I know. Not everyone would handle it the way you are.”

“We’ll figure this out, yeah?”

“Between the two of us, there’s not a problem in this world we couldn’t solve.” You kiss the tip of his nose and stand from the bed, holding your hand out to him.

“What?”

“I was thinking we could take a bath. Help each other relax.”

He gives you a tired smile and nods. “That sounds amazing.”

You start the water and put a more-than-appropriate amount of the bubble bath liquid in it. Tying your hair up to prevent it from getting wet, you smile to yourself when you feel Chenle’s hands on your waist.

“Need some help getting this off?” He tugs on your dress.

“I might need help with everything,” you hum, letting your eyes flutter shut as he unzips your dress.

Once it's thrown across the room, you unbutton Chenle’s shirt, pushing it from his shoulders. Soon enough, both of you are beneath water and bubbles, and his arms are locked firmly around your waist. You rest against his chest, allowing the lavender scent to soothe your stress.

“Y’know what we’re missing?” you mumble. “Champagne.”

“I can have someone bring it to us. Just say the word.” He kisses your temple.

You shake your head. “We’re naked.”

“They’re professionals.” He laughs and squeezes you. “And I can have them leave it in the bedroom.”

“Right, and make sure there’s a heart made out of flower petals on the bed.” You roll your eyes.

“You can have anything you desire, (Y/N). You’re my wife. The sky’s truly the limit.” He explores your skin out of curiosity, mapping his way around your body.

You sit up and look over your shoulder at him. “You know what I want?”

He raises his eyebrows in response.

“I want it all.” You grab his hand. “I want you. The good days and the bad ones. Whatever trial comes our way, I want us to figure it out together.”

“Do you…Do you actually want children? Or is that something you feel like you have to do?” he asks.

“Honestly, I don’t know. There was a brief moment when I met Sujia and Yichen that I thought…I thought that he could’ve been yours. I mean, he looks like you a little bit, but he’s your nephew so that’s not weird. When that became a possibility in my head, it hurt. Stung, is more like it. I guess I figured that any children you’d have would be mine as well, and to think there were others you might have—”

“Darling,” he coos, tightening his grip on you. “I promise you, I do not have any secret children. Nor will I ever. You will be very, very aware of any child I have. I don’t want them if it’s not with you.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“That’s good.” You nod and lean back against him once more. “We have time to think about it, right?”

“Take as much time as you need.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You hesitated to have Chenle meet Sujia so quickly. A week passes before you consider reaching out to her, and you know Chenle is waiting for it. She has to be too, at this point, probably worried about whether or not her money supply was going to be cut off. He has yet to confront his father, but you assume that will come with time. For now, you’re curled up next to him in bed, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. Finally, it’s a rest day for you both, and you get to spend the whole day with him uninterrupted.

His fingers run through your hair, a deep breath passing by his lips. “Darling.”

“Hm?” You move closer to him, burying your head in his neck.

“Kiss me?”

You don’t hesitate to do as he asks, humming against his lips as the two of you connect. He shifts to his side to get closer to you, his hand trailing from your hip, down your leg, until he finds the back of your knee. Pulling your leg over his waist, he shuffles closer to you, pressing his body to yours.

“What are you doing?” you ask him, smiling.

“Loving you,” he replies easily, sliding his hand back up to your ass. The thin fabric of your shorts does little to hide the sensation of him squeezing you. You don’t mean to gasp, but you attempt to distract him by tangling your fingers in his hair.

“Tell me what you want.” You pull back to get a good look at him.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he admits. “How fucking good you made me feel.”

“More.”

“You’ve been telling me you love me for a week now and I haven’t been able to hear it when I’m inside you. God, I never thought I’d be like this. It’s only been a week.” He squeezes you harder, pushing his hard length against you.

As he grinds himself slowly into your core, you curse and wrap your arms around him. “Why did you wait this long?” you ask him breathlessly.

“Didn’t wanna push you.” He kisses along your neck, nipping wherever he can reach. “Don’t want you to think this is all I want. Fucking been hard all day, darling. Every time you walked into the fucking room all week, instantly ready to bend you over.”

Your body shudders as you process his words. “Why don’t you lay back? Let me take care of you.”

“I need you so bad,” he groans. “I could cum just hearing you talk like that.”

You push him onto his back and quickly straddle him. Rolling your hips, you curse under your breath as you feel his hard length against your clit.

“Chenle,” you mutter, trailing your hands beneath his shirt. “Do you prefer ass or tits?”

“That’s an odd question.”

“You won’t regret answering.”

“Ass.”

“Perfect. Do you have a condom?” You raise your eyebrows at him.

“They’re in the bedside table—darling, I didn’t prep you yet—”

“You’re not the only one who’s needy,” you interrupt him, quickly moving to grab one of the wrappers. Before you climb on top of him again, you kiss his cheek. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want, my love. You don’t have to ask.”

You shove your shorts and panties down, and as you pull at his sweats and boxers, his fists clench at his sides. His length smacks against his stomach, and he wraps his fingers around himself to relieve some of the ache. You didn’t get to see it much the first time, but you take a second to appreciate just how fucking pretty he is. He’s so hard, it’s probably starting to hurt.

He runs his thumb over the tip and gasps. “Baby, please.”

You waste no more time in getting the condom on him, and then you straddle his lap again, but backwards this time. As you quickly sink down on his length, taking him all the way inside, he moans loudly.

“God, you’re so fucking hot.” He drags his nails down your back until he reaches your ass, and then he grips you tightly with both hands. “You needed me, too, huh? Dripping all over me when I haven’t even touched you yet.”

You brace yourself on the mattress between his legs, and set a fast, steady pace. He moans every time you sink all the way down, and your fingers curl into the sheets. You easily ignore the ache beginning in your thighs when you listen to him and how good you’re making him feel. He spurs you on, his moans slowly turning to higher pitched whines.

“Can we—fuck, can we try something?” Chenle asks, gripping your hips to hold you still.

“Whatever you need.” You shakily lift yourself off of him, and he quickly moves from below you. He removes his shirt before aiding you in doing the same.

He guides you to arch your back, your face pressed into the mattress as your walls clench around nothing. His tip catches on your clit, and your body jolts, but you grip onto the sheets instead.

“Gonna fuck you good, darling. Wanna hear you the whole time, got it?” His voice sends needles of pleasure pricking into your spine, and you know you can ignore everything else once he’s buried inside you.

“Yes.” You nod. Your fingers curl into the sheets as he slides in. The angle has you seeing stars, and your mouth falls open at the sensation.

His hands squeeze your ass as he starts slowly, the rub of him against your walls making your legs tremble already. You worry briefly about being too distracted, but as reaches around you to put his hand between your legs, all thoughts besides the way he feels completely obliterate. He rubs your clit in pace with his thrusts, his breathing uneven as he works your body as if he’s touched you for years. You barely recognize yourself when your moans slip past your lips. You’ve never let go like this before, and through your daze, you push yourself back against him. He tentatively smacks your ass, light enough to make you crave the contact. You can’t breathe as you curse.

“Again,” you whine, your entire being on the brink of collapse. “More.”

“Earn it, baby,” he commands. “You know what I want to hear.”

You let out a shuddering breath as his tip nudges that spot inside you. “Fuck, I love you. I need more.”

He smacks you harder this time, and the loud, needy moan that pours from your lips gets distorted by the way he starts to slam his hips against you. His fingers speed up on your clit, and you’re already teetering on the edge. Sounds of your arousal emanate around the room, mixing with both of your moans. His skin clapping against yours has every muscle in your body craving the release you know is so, so close.

As your high smashes into you like a tidal wave, the pleasure is so overwhelming, you cry out and clench onto the sheets. Chenle curses as his thrusts begin to falter, but you barely hear him. You’re much too sensitive, and you whimper as his fingers still work your bud. Without warning, he pulls out of you. You whine at the loss, attempting to push back, but he grips your hips and flips you onto your back. Gasping at the sudden movement, you grab for him as he climbs over you.

“What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly.

“I need to see you, darling.” He inhales sharply as he pushes back inside you. “And kiss you.”

His lips connect with yours as he keeps his steady pace. His chest rubs yours, the heat almost unbearable as your tongues fight for dominance. A groan slipping out of his mouth interrupts your kiss, and next thing you know, he’s as deep as he can get, panting against your collarbone.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “I love you.”

“Me too,” you reply, breathless as you run your fingers through his hair. “I love you, too.”

“That wasn’t too much, was it?” He peppers kisses anywhere he can reach—your neck, your chest, your shoulders.

You shake your head. “No, I’m just a little surprised. You can tell me when you want me, you know. You don’t have to wait for me to initiate.”

“It’s been…an interesting week, you know?” He pulls out of you, kissing you softly one last time before he goes into the bathroom to get rid of the condom. When he comes back, he lays down on top of you again. “I came twice.”

You recoil, angling your head to look at him. “Just now?”

“Yep. Came when you were on top of me, too,” he hums in content. “And I’ll have you know that’s never happened to me before.”

“Had someone on top of you or finished twice?”

“The second one.” He pauses. “But I—”

“You don’t have to explain.” You snort. “I have a past, too.”

“That’s good. Don’t wanna move,” he mumbles, pushing his head further into your neck.

You laugh. “Don’t, then.”

Chenle falls asleep fairly quickly, and you kiss his forehead before wiggling out from under him. You grab a new pair of panties and slide them on before grabbing one of his button-downs. It’s much too late for any of the staff to be out and about, so you grab your phone and head to the kitchen. When you look at the screen, the worry settles back in the pit of your stomach. Sujia had texted you forty-five minutes ago, asking you for an update on the situation. After a week, you think Chenle has probably had at least a little bit of time to come to terms with everything. You text her back to let her know Chenle wants to meet her, and then you get your water. You don’t want Chenle to ever feel hurt like that again, but it’s not going to just disappear. You know better than that. But it doesn’t change how seeing him so upset broke you to pieces, too. If you could, you’d ruin anything that even tried.

He was right all along.

Being in love doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It makes you stronger. Gives you a purpose other than what is required of you when you’re from certain bloodlines. From the beginning, you were sure Chenle would never—could never—mean anything to you, and even though he told you otherwise, you had to find out for yourself. You’d start wars for him. You’d do anything to make sure he was okay, because at the end of the day, he truly is the only person to love you without conditions involved. He cares for you not because he has to, not because he’s forced to, but because he wants to. Because he chooses to. You refill the glass for Chenle and head back upstairs. When you open the door, he stirs, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he turns and sits up.

“Where’d you go?” he asks, running his fingers through his hair.

“Water.” You hold the glass up and set it next to him on the bedside table. Standing at the edge of the bed, you look at him, unable to fight the small smile forming.

“What?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“You’re just…” You chuckle and shake your head. “Shut up. You’re just really cute like this.”

He holds his arm out to you. “Pinch me. I’m pretty sure I’m still dreaming.”

“Oh, you’re hilarious.” You smack at his wrist.

He tugs gently on the bottom hem of the shirt you’re wearing. “I like this on you.”

“It was the first thing I found.” Embarrassment climbs through you. “Sorry, I should’ve asked.”

“What part of that sounded like I wanted you to ask?” He snorts. “You’re always welcome to anything here. You should know that by now. But you’ve been away from me for way too long. C’mere.”

He opens his arms for you, and you chuckle and climb into bed next to him. When he lays on his side, he tugs you to follow suit. You listen to him, staring into his eyes while his thumb rubs on your hip through the white fabric.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“For what?”

“For trying with me. Not running away. Letting me love you. The list is honestly endless.” He kisses your forehead. “Not to mention I really would’ve fucking lost my mind with all of that stuff last week if you hadn’t been there.”

“Speaking of.” You shuffle closer to him. “She wants to meet you. And I really think you should do it, because at the end of the day, she’s your sister, you know?”

Chenle hesitates, thousands of emotions crossing through his gaze like a storm. “You’re right. You can set it up for whenever, and I’ll be there.”

“I’m sorry this happened, Chenle.” You intertwine your fingers with his. “And I want you to know that, no matter how you’re feeling, you can tell me. I want to help you process.”

“I’ll be okay, darling. Truly. It’ll just take some time getting used to it. I do think it’ll be nice to have a sibling, although she’ll probably hate me for…I don’t know. Being legitimate?”

You laugh, burying your head in his neck. “You’re not taking her money away, so I doubt she’ll hate you.”

He hums quietly, sleep still heavy in his voice as he pulls you flush against him. “I shouldn’t be able to love you this much yet. Slow down, would you?”

“You, of all people, should know that those words do not exist in my vocabulary.” You close your eyes and breathe him in. “I love you, too.”

Sujia sets the day for the upcoming Saturday, and so while the days pass, you witness Chenle slowly lose his mind. He’s not upset at Sujia at all, but he obviously is with his father. It’s an incredibly large secret to keep from your family, so he has every right to those feelings. The entire car ride to her house, he’s squeezing your hand so hard, you fear he’ll cut the circulation off. His leg bounces restlessly, and the frown hasn’t left his face once today. The driver opens the door, and you get out first to at least attempt to lessen your husband’s nerves. You’re unfortunately aware of the straggle of photographers waiting for the two of you. While you’re not sure how they found out about this, you’re not worried about them in the slightest.

Once Chenle’s on his feet, you loop your arm in his. “Be calm. There are cameras, so at least wait until we get inside to freak out.” “Yes, ma’am.” He sends you a sly grin. The two of you approach the door, and you knock. Sujia opens the door quickly, ushering the two of you inside to prevent herself from being seen. Chenle removes his sunglasses, and you take them from him to put in your purse.

“(Y/N), it’s nice to see you again,” Sujia greets you. You nod at her. “Likewise.” “Chenle, you’re a little more intimidating in person.” She clasps her hands together. “Are you guys thirsty? I’ll get some water.” “Actually,” you say, patting Chenle’s arm. “Why don’t you two get your sibling introductions out of the way, and I’ll just play with Yichen. He’s my nephew, too, after all. And I’m pretty sure I scared him last time.” The two of them both flounder for words, neither of them wanting to be without you in a moment like this.

“It’ll be okay. Seriously. Neither of you bite, and Sujia, he’s actually really sweet. He just looks like he hates everything.” “As you can see, my wife is my biggest fan.” He presses his lips into a thin line as he fakes a glare. “Anyway.” You smile at Sujia. “I assume the child is upstairs?” “Yes, but if you want him to not be scared of you, you may want to refer to him by his name or something other than ‘the child.’” She scratches the top of her head.

“God, there is so much I could learn from you.” You separate from Chenle’s side and head for the stairs. Much to your pleasant surprise, your nephew…in-law? is already stomping down the stairs. “Oh.” The kid purses his lips. “You’re back.” “I am.” You nod and scrunch your nose up. “I figured while your mommy talks to my husband, we could…I don’t know. Play a game or something? Do kids do that?” “You’re weird.” Yichen grimaces. “But you’re nicer this time than you were last time. So yeah, we can play with the Switch.” You don’t end up actually playing, but you do watch Yichen’s game with interest. Leaning forward with your elbows on your knees, you analyze the process he uses when he plays every round.

“You’re smart,” you comment. “My mommy tells me that, too.” He nods, seemingly unaffected by your compliment. You pause for a moment. “Does your mom…compliment you a lot?” “Uh, I don’t know.” Yichen doesn’t start the next round, but turns to look at you. “Does your mommy compliment you a lot?” You laugh. “Yeah, no. Definitely not." “Are you—”

“Yichen,” Sujia calls out. “Can you turn the game off please? There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Without a second thought, he turns the Switch off and yells to his mom to tell her he’s ready. He sits next to you on the couch, folding his hands together in his lap. You’ve met a lot of children in your day, but you never imagined one could be so well-behaved. You see the panicked look on Chenle’s face as he walks in. A laugh almost erupts from you, but you hold it back. The man is meeting his nephew for the first time and can’t seem to shake the nerves away. You can only imagine what it’ll be like when he meets his own child. You tense the second that thought crosses your mind.

When?

A legitimate chill runs down your spine, and then you realize how close Chenle has gotten. He squats down in front of Yichen, and Sujia leans against the archway into the kitchen.

“Hey,” Chenle starts. “I’m your uncle. And you’re my nephew.” “Oh, wow.” You really didn’t think it could get any worse than you. “Do you know her?” Yichen nods his head towards you. Chenle smiles. “Yeah. That’s my wife. So that makes her your aunt.” “She said her mommy doesn’t compliment her.” His eyes widen. “Is she a bad person?” Your husband lets out an exaggerated gasp. “No way. She’s the best person I know.” “How?” “Well, she told me about you and your mommy when nobody else did. She’s really, really smart and, c’mon, she’s gorgeous. What else could I want in a wife?” Chenle grins, sending a quick glance your way. “I guess you’re right.” Yichen shrugs. “Do you wanna play a game with me?” “Absolutely.” He nods in response. You stand to give Chenle room, touching his shoulder lightly as you go to stand by Sujia. Leaning on the wall next to her, you quickly realize attempting to take your eyes off of your husband is futile. “He likes kids, huh?” Sujia asks. “He really likes family,” you reply.

“Do you want children?” “Oh.” You chuckle to yourself and fold your arms over your chest. “I’m not sure. But we…don’t really have a choice. We signed a contract and heirs are part of the deal.” “I’m sorry, but I really don’t envy you,” she tells you. “At the end of the day, it’s not that bad, though.” “So, you and Chenle actually love each other.” She hums, tapping her foot. “I feel like that’s rare for people in your positions.” “It is,” you agree. “And honestly, had it been up to me at the beginning, we wouldn’t even be…friendly. We’d be tolerating each other.” "Wow, he fought for you.” Humor laces in Sujia’s voice. “Well, I told him that I’d rather tolerate him than learn one day that I might hate him instead. He was entirely right when he said it wasn’t the hate I was scared of. It was love. Of relying on someone else.” “At least you can rest assured that he would be a good father.”

You don’t respond for a moment, watching Chenle interact with his nephew. They must win something in the game, because they dramatically high five each other. The smile on Chenle’s face is wide, and your heart flutters as a result.

“Yeah.” You fight your own grin. “Yeah, he really will.”

You and Chenle are at Sujia’s for hours. It’s clear the two of them are similar, and thankfully, your husband seems to enjoy having a family member other than the ones who have disappointed him. Yichen warms up to you both, and by the time you’re leaving, he’s hugging you both goodbye and asking when you’ll be back. Chenle is still smiling as he leads you back to the car.

“That went a lot better than you thought, huh?” You ask as he helps you into the backseat.

“I don’t know what I thought.” He shakes his head. “But it’s cool not to be an only child. Even if it’s unconventional, you know? And that little kid is freakin’ cool.”

You lean on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re making the best out of this situation.”

“Actually, do you mind if we make one more stop?”

“Of course not. Where to?”

“I think it’s time I had a conversation with my father.” He pats your leg. “And I could really use your support.”

“Chenle.” You tilt your head at him. “If you don’t know by now that I would follow you anywhere, you’re not as smart as I originally thought. We may have to reconsider this whole thing.”

He sucks in a deep breath through his teeth, holding back his laugh. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that contract is pretty air tight.”

“Damn.” You roll your eyes and kiss his cheek. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

“The luckiest.” He lifts your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles. “Can’t even joke about that one.”

Chenle isn’t even nervous as the two of you approach his father’s office. He grips your hand tightly, but his resolve has never been stronger. Despite him doing this on his own, you feel an odd swell of pride deep in your chest. You’re so proud of the man he’s always been, and how he only ever wants to be better. His father already knows what’s going on the second he sees you both. At that point, Chenle releases your hand and drops his folder on the desk.

“What’s this?” his father inquires.

“A lawsuit,” Chenle replies nonchalantly.

You almost gasp in shock. And while you shouldn’t be enjoying the awkward tinge in the atmosphere, you feel like you need a bag of popcorn right now.

“I’m sorry?” He recoils in shock.

“You seem to forget that when I became CEO, you no longer had any claim to the company’s profits. And if I did my math correctly, which I did, $143,000 a quarter is roughly $572,000 a year, which is a grand total of $2,288,000 from the four years I’ve been seated in the CEO position.”

“Chenle, you have no right—”

“You don’t tell me what I have the right to do, actually.” Chenle buttons up his suit jacket. “So, you’ll be paying me back the money you owe me. That you stole from me to protect your little secret from getting out. But that must really suck, because you actually delivered a handwritten apology letter to Sujia and to your wife and your mistress and me and the employees at the company that’ll be announced in about ten minutes. To the whole world.”

“Your mother cannot know about this. Whatever you’ve done, you reverse it immediately.” The angry expression on his face does nothing but make Chenle grin.

“Your secret’s out, Dad. Crazy how you had two children and never learned how to be an actual father.” Chenle brushes himself out and points at the folder on the desk. “I’d read that. You might wanna think twice before fighting it.”

“You’ll understand one day,” his father replies. “There’s more to life than marriage, and it’s only a matter of time before you—”

“I will never be like you.” The smile immediately falls from his face. “I love my wife, and I’m not a fucking coward. I don’t need a second family because the first one wasn’t good enough for me. This is the last time you’ll hear from me. And you won’t be receiving any money from my company again. I hope you’re happy with yourself.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, your lips parted in shock as you realize what’s happening. Your husband turns his back on his father, gently holds out his hand to you, and shoots one last ice cold glare over his shoulder as he leads you out of the room.

As soon as the door shuts behind you, you laugh in disbelief. “Chenle, holy shit.”

“Dude, my adrenaline is fucking crazy right now.” He chuckles and blows out a deep breath. “That was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done in my life.”

“This might be terrible to say, but I am…so attracted to you right now.” You blush as you squeeze his arm.

“So, nothing but good things today.” He helps you into the car.

Once he shuts the door behind him, you climb onto his lap and kiss him. He groans in surprise, his hands immediately finding their place on your ass.

“What? You like when I put people in their places?” he teases you, leaning forward to barely brush his lips on yours.

“There were a lot of things I liked from today.” You unbutton the first button on his shirt. “It was…very hot of you to absolutely destroy a man like that. You held your ground and…I don’t know. The tone of your voice was sexy.”

“My God, am I learning things about you today.”

“If it helps you, I’m also learning things about myself, so.”

“Mm, please tell me what else you’ve got hidden up your sleeve.” He squeezes your ass gently, pushing you closer so you feel him hardening in his pants.

“I think…we should throw every single condom away. Permanently. We’ll have an endless amount of babies for you to play games with. Of course, you’ll also have to tell them I’m gorgeous, but—”

“You’re serious.” His jaw drops, hope sparking behind his eyes. “Darling, you better not be joking about something like that.”

You shake your head. “I’m not joking. You were on to something when you said you wanted everything. A real life, a real love, a real family. Why don’t we have it all?”

“Right now? You want kids now?”

“If we’re gonna have twenty, we really have to start now, otherwise I’m gonna be too old—”

He cuts you off with an earth-shattering kiss as he pulls you flush against him. His fingers tangle in your hair, and you giggle into his mouth. The only thing that separates the two of you is the door opening.You gasp and climb off his lap, clearing your throat and fanning your cheeks from the embarrassment of getting caught. Your husband grips your hand and pulls you towards the house, and you can’t stop the profuse laughter escaping you as he apparently decides you’re walking too slowly and hoists you over his shoulder.

“Oh my God, Chenle, put me down.” You can barely speak through your laughs.

He only listens to you once the two of you are inside and he’s able to set you on the kitchen island.

“If you’re doubting it even a little bit, darling, you’d better tell me now.” He kisses down your neck. “Because I don’t care how fucking long it takes, we’re not stopping tonight until I get you pregnant.”

“You’re crazy.” You push his shoulder. “You have no way of knowing if you’ll—”

“Baby, don’t ruin my fun. Tell me if you really want this.”

“I do, Chenle.” You cup his cheeks, smiling at him. “I want it with you. They all need to look like you. I want at least one boy and one girl, and they’ll be best friends because—”

He kisses you again, groaning as he slides his hand beneath the skirt of your dress. “Keep talking.”

“Um, I just really think you’d be a good dad,” you say, lifting your hips so he can pull your panties down. “And, uh, you’ve proven how much family means to you, so it makes me feel safe. I—shit.”

He presses two fingers to your clit, and your body jolts. Chuckling, he traces along your pulse with his lips. “How are you so wet already?”

“Well.” You let out another breathless laugh as you grind your hips to match his pace. “It so helps that my husband is the hottest fucking man in this universe.”

“You think so highly of me,” he hums, teeth grazing your ear lobe.

“You’re cruel for this, you know.” You rock upward, and your head lolls forward. “Teasing after you clearly feel how badly I want you is just…so rude.”

“I’m sorry, baby. Please forgive me.” He moves down to your entrance and thrusts two of his fingers inside you.

You cry out, holding onto his shoulders. With a frustrated groan, you push his jacket off of him. He curls his fingers and pumps faster, thumb returning to your clit.

“Fuck, Chenle, wait.” You smack at his wrist. Even though you don’t want him to stop, you want more. He stops immediately, pulling back to look at you.

“What? Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay.” You kiss him hard. “I need you inside me right fucking now.”

“First of all, you just scared me.” He tsks as he unbuttons his pants. “You need my cock so bad you can’t fucking take what I give you?”

Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing. You shudder at his tone, shuffling closer to the edge of the counter. He pushes his pants and boxers down to the middle of his thighs, and your mouth waters at the sight of him. He’s hard, tip leaking precum as he spreads your legs further. The fabric of your skirt prevents him from having enough room, and the dark look in his eyes sends another burst of wetness to your core.

“Love how these skirts look on you but fucking hate how I can’t fuck you in it.” He taps your hip, and you lift yourself up so he can unzip it and tug it down quickly.

You barely even pay attention to what his doing when he pulls your ankles up to the edge of the counter and spreads your thighs apart until they begin to ache.

“Now, isn’t that a fucking view.” He wets his lips as he wraps his fingers around his cock. Thrusting into his fist a couple times, he uses his other hand to tease your clit.

“Chenle, please.” You gasp, tugging him closer.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby, I can see it.” He drags his tip along your entrance, pushing in just enough to watch the head of his cock stretch you open. He’s entranced by the way you take him so easily, his eyes focused on where the two of you connect.

Your pleasure intensifies simply by watching him so drunk on you, just appreciating the way you take him. You feel every vein in your body buzzing, and you can’t help it but to push your hand between your legs and rub your throbbing bud while he’s entranced.

“You have no fucking patience,” he hisses, grabbing your wrist and pushing it away. You whine at the loss, but his glare stops you. “I’m trying to enjoy my wife’s pussy, but she’s just so fucking needy, isn’t she?”

“Oh, God.” You grip onto the edge of the counter.

“Watch how easily you take me.” He flicks your clit. “Look.”

You let your gaze travel downward until you see his cock positioned outside your hole. Instantly, the room gets much hotter. You struggle to breathe, anticipating the stretch he gives you. His tip is covered in your arousal, but the rest of his cock has yet to feel you.

“Fuck me, Chenle,” you mutter almost incoherently. “I wanna watch.”

He finally obliges, nudging the tip between your folds again before sinking inside. He moves so slowly, you want to cry. You need more, and the stretch wreaks havoc on you when you’re watching. Every time he’d fill you up another inch, he’d pull out until his tip is barely caught inside you, and then sink in just one more inch. You’re losing your fucking mind, but you can’t take your eyes away from where he pleasures you. Finally, he bottoms out, the position of your thighs allowing him to press all the way against you, his pelvis hitting your overly sensitive clit.

“Are you ready?” he asks. “I need to fuck you.”

“You know I’m ready,” you reply, dazed from the pleasure of him seated so deeply in you.

He starts a steady pace, both of you still staring at the way you stretch to accommodate him.

“You feel so fucking good like this, darling.” He thrusts harder. “Nothing between us this time.”

You cry out when his tip hits your cervix. Your legs start to shake from how far they’re spread, but all you’re focusing on is the way your arousal shines on his cock when he’s pulling out of you. You feel every inch of him, and the way he rubs against your walls is so different without the condom. You’re fucking delirious, and every time he presses all the way inside you, the pressure on your clit has you getting closer and closer.

“You’re squeezing me so tight, baby,” he groans, moving his hand down between the two of you quickly. His thumb glides over your most sensitive area, and you can no longer hold back your sounds.

“Fuck,” you cry out, legs shaking as your orgasm lingers so, so close.

“Cum for me.” He slams into you. “Not gonna fill you up ‘til you cum, darling.”

You tip and tilt over the edge, convulsing as your high hits you hard. Chenle keeps rubbing you, thrusts picking up speed as he fucks you through your euphoria. He crashes his lips to yours as he spurts inside you, covering your inner walls with white as he pants. Your whole body shakes as you hold onto him tightly. Both of you are covered in sweat, but it does little to bother either of you.

“How does it keep getting better?” you ask. “You have that effect on me.” He shrugs, chuckling as he guides your legs around his waist. “And I wasn’t kidding. We’re not done yet.” “My insides are gonna be mush.” “What if I’m gentle next time?” He kisses along your neck. “If I fuck you with your legs up, apparently it’s more likely to happen that way.” “Insatiable.” You pull back to kiss his lips. “You’re lucky I am, too. Take me upstairs.”

You don’t make it all the way upstairs. Not at first. He decides he has to take you on the couch, up against the wall next to the staircase, the desk in his office, and then your bed. By the end of the night, you’re absolutely exhausted, but you’ve never felt so fucking good in your life. And for someone who thought you could never have it all, you realize just how damn close you are to having a perfect life when you have Chenle by your side.

717 notes · View notes

peachesofteal · 5 months

Text

18+ mdni / dark and twisty, whump

It’s snowing.

You don’t even have to move your head to see in order to know. There’s something about how it hangs in the air, how the world sounds and feels during a snowfall that blankets everything, houses, trees, mountains, your mind.

You love it. Always have. Even as a child, winter was your favorite. Winter brought you a sense of calm, of peace. It was what drove you to move out here in the first place. Chasing the snow. The feeling of a quiet forest, lying still beneath the soft spun expanse of white. The smell of the air the morning before a big snow, the eternal quiet that exists in the darkness when everything is dampened down by the weight of a million, billion unique, crystallized webs.

Except this snow feels different. It doesn't feel like a velvety white, soft dream world, but a nightmare... one filled with pain, anxiety. Why are you here? What's happened?

And why do you hurt so fucking bad?

"You're awake." A deep voice says from your side, and you flinch on instinct, immediately wishing you hadn't as lighting sharp pain shoots through your upper arm all the way to your neck, and you cry out. "Easy." It's the brown eyed man, the bigger one. He's sitting in a chair that cannot possibly be comfortable, watching you.

"Where... am I?" You manage to choke out through stiff lips, your head spinning and the world tilting at the same time. It sours your stomach, more than you thought possible, and you try to choke back the burn of bile that's racing up your throat.

"Are you going to be sick?" He reaches, stroking a finger down your face. You hold your tongue, unsure, and he must not like it, because he sighs, and then frowns at you. "Tell me."

"No, I don't-" You can't even finish your denial before your stomach is heaving, and he's springing to action shifting you amidst unbearable pain, turning you on your side to where a clean bucket sits, right beneath your bed.

"It's alright, that's it." A hand soothes up and down your back as you dry heave, sputtering on nothing, tears leaking from your eyes.

"Nnnrgh-"

"I know, I know. Poor thing." He coos, and it sounds so... endearing, so sweet yet... frightening, like the poison of a predator, a pretty display meant to draw you in before it snaps a set of jaws shut around your face.

"H-hurts." You cry as he rolls you back into your original position. "It hurts."

"I know it does, sweet girl. We're going to fix it." He dabs a cloth on your face, across your forehead and then down to clean your mouth up, just as the man with the mohawk appears on the bed, one knee down, leaning over you, concern rife in his features.

"Poor baby. Were ye sick?" You blink up at him. What is going on? He presses a glass to your lips, encouraging you to drink, and then pulling it away after you've had a few sips with a gentle 'not too much'.

"Who are you?" You smack your lips. The water is cold, refreshing, but a ting acidic, and you wonder if it's well water, maybe?

"I'm Johnny." He's setting up something, beside you. You can see him organizing something, but can't quite make them out due to your lack of mobility. "An' this is Simon. Or Si. But ye probably won't be callin' him that quite yet." Johnny and Simon. Did they find you? Did they rescue you? Why can't you remember?

"What happened?" You try again, gritting your teeth against the pain.

"Ye had an accident, remember? We talked about this yesterday? Ye slid off the road, ended up in a thick of trees. Ye're lucky the one didnae impale ye." Impale?

"And you found me?" You're starting to feel tired again, all the sudden, woozy and weird, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. Shouldn't you be in a hospital? Why haven't they taken you to a doctor?

"Aye, we did. Pulled ye free, brought ye home." Home?

"We couldn't leave you to die, and the storm is pretty bad. Pass is closed." Simon offers as an explanation, and you close your eyes. Of course. The pass is closed.

"Thank... thank you." Johnny hums, and then to your complete shock, leans forward, brushing his lips against yours as you blink furiously.

"Want ye to know, if we didnae have to do this, we wouldnae." What?

"Do what?" The broad one, Simon, casts you a mournful glance, rising from the chair. He's got a piece of leather in his hand, like a cut from a belt, and your eyes dart between them. Do what?

"Bite down on this, precious." Simon instructs, placing it against your bottom lip, to which you jerk away in protest with a whimper.

"Do what?" You try again.

"We need to set your humerus, and clavicle." Set your humerus? And your-

Oh. Oh no.

"N-no. No, you ca-can't." You stutter, but Johnny gives you a sad look, shifting on the bed to place a hand on your belly, stroking upwards to the middle of your chest, the other holding firm against your good shoulder, the one that doesn't hurt. His hand is warm, so warm against you, and his thumb rubs in a cautious motion against your skin, lightly grazing the underside of your breast. It feels weird, and wrong... intimate. "Please, don't. Please, please-"

"It's alright." He shushes you, and the pressure against your body increases as Simon wedges a thick finger between your teeth, slipping the worn leather into your mouth, bracing a hand above your elbow, and below your shoulder on the side that hurts. You gasp for air, fear shaking your body, and Johnny coos at you, telling you you'll be alright, that you're with them now and they'll take care of you, that it will only hurt for a little. "Ye'll probably pass out, bonnie. We'll get the second one done while ye're down, and I already gave ye something for the pain." He assures, like it's supposed to relieve you, and your nostrils flare as something tightens against your arm. Simon's grip.

This can't be happening. How can this happen? No, nononono-

There's a crack. A crunch. Burning, obliterating agony that's delivered to your arm like a shot. You scream and bite down at the same time, raw misery trying to claw it's way out of your throat. You think you're crying, hallucinating from the pain, having a heart attack, everything all at once. It hurts. It hurts so bad, it hurts-

"We're sorry, we're sorry." Simon soothes, thumb wiping your cheek, but you can hardly hear him, your mind starting to sever itself from your body, floating away as you slip inside a dark tomb of your mind, losing yourself to unconscious as they both stare down at you, sickeningly sweet concern layered overtop the faces of a bear and a wolf, predators licking their maws in preparation, waiting to devour their prey.

#peaches writes #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #simon riley #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader

989 notes · View notes

yoongiseesawmp3 · 2 months

Text

u got it bad - san (m)

summary: baseball player!san x reporter!reader. you've been covering your local team for years. the players, the coaches, everybody knows you. except for newbie choi san. he just joined the team, but he knows you from somewhere...maybe the bar last night?

word count: 14.5k

warnings: lots of baseball jargon, afab reader, sex (some protected some not), thigh riding, oral (barely. m receiving tho), a little cockwarming

masterlist

you love your job. as a kid, you always dreamed of working here, walking into this stadium every day, and doing what you loved most. granted, back then you were imagining yourself as one of the players, but oh well. a girl can still dream, right?

you landed the job as sideline reporter for your favorite baseball team right out of college. they wanted someone willing to stick around for a while, and you recall telling them in your interview, "if i start working here, you'll never be able to get rid of me." they loved it, and they loved that you were a hometown supporter. it made your stories more meaningful, gave you a point of view that fans could appreciate. you were able to write touching pieces on the players, give the season the dramatic arc on camera that it deserved, and you treated everyone at the team with respect. that respect went both ways, with the players, coaches, front office staff...everyone knew who you were and included you as if you were a part of the team.

you had to work hard for that respect. it didn't take long for you to prove yourself, but it did take several sleepless nights and countless overtime hours to become the reporter you are. you know everything about this team, and that's what makes you so good.

because you know eveything, you obviously know that they're close to signing star right fielder choi san. you've heard talk that it's basically done, he flew in this morning and is set to sign his contract first thing tomorrow. of course, you had memorized his past work jumping around the league as soon as the rumors started. it was your job, after all, to know these things. you knew he was great on the field, that was easy, but everyone loved him in the dugout. he's the kind of player that remembers everyone's names, brings gifts for the team around the holidays, asks about your family when he sees you. he's a stand up guy, you hear.

you've also heard that he likes to play the field outside of the stadium, if you catch my drift. he's very popular with the ladies in whatever city he deems to call home for that season, and as you walk through your favorite bar outside the stadium, you can tell the women here already know choi san is close by.

one thing you do not know is that san is in this bar, right now. yes, he's signing his contract tomorrow, but he wanted to visit the stadium today, when it was still quiet. he likes getting the feel of a team before he joins, so he wandered around the empty stadium a few times before coming here to clear his head. upon entering, he sees his face plastered on all the tvs as espn does a deep dive into what his move here might mean. he thought he was screwed, that people would immediately notice him, but so far so good. he's got a nondescript cap on and dark sweats, so he hopes his booth in the corner is enough to keep him hidden while he has a celebratory pint. he doesn't report to training until day after tomorrow, so he thought he could treat himself tonight.

as he sits and drinks, soaking in the atmosphere, he has to laugh. he wants to stay hidden, but really, with his likeness and his entire career plastered on every screen above the bar, you'd think someone would know. at least look at him and make a comment about the resemblance. but it doesn't seem like anyone here knows a thing.

except you. as you sit at the bar, swirling the straw in your glass, you take a look around. there's some regulars that smile and wave, but for the most part it's not that busy. maybe that's what makes him stand out more. your eyes fall on choi san, all star right fielder and the newest member of your team, trying to hide in the corner. but his sharp eyes and broad shoulders alert you immediately that the subject of all your recent studies is here. and he's staring at you. you stare back, and he quirks an eyebrow, almost like a challenge.

you take the bait and make your way to his table.

"anyone sittin' here?" you ask in a slight southern accent, and san smiles. it's been a while since he played in the south. he forgot how charming it can be. maybe he'll catch himself a southern belle while he's here.

"saved it for you," he smirks, and you hum as you sit across from him. he sees your almost empty glass and states, "looks like you need another."

"ah, i probably shouldn't," you shake your head. "got an early morning."

"me too," san nods, that smirk still comfortably on his face. "so what's your name, beautiful?"

"y/n," you reply. you try not to let your heart flutter at the nickname, or the way he's staring at you, but it's hard. "yours?"

"san," he says simply. "you from here, y/n?"

"born and raised," you answer. "you new to the city?"

"you could say that," he sighs. "just moved here for work, but i've visited a couple times."

"how are you likin' it so far?"

"to be honest?" he makes a face. "it's kind of boring."

"excuse me?" you're taken aback. you don't take kindly to people badmouthing your hometown, and you don't like the mischievous spark in san's eyes as he continues.

"well, girl as pretty as you not taking me up on my offer of another round, that's no fun is it?" he teases.

"ahah," you laugh halfheartedly. "sure, i can see why that would upset you."

"i'm not upset, doll, just disappointed."

"well, hate to disappoint you further, but i really do have an early morning," you say as you start to rise. "just saw a stranger sittin' all by his lonesome and thought i would say hi."

"i'm glad you did," san raises his glass to you. "maybe i'll see you around?"

"maybe," you shrug, trying to bite back a smile. "nice meeting you san."

you feel his eyes on you as you return your glass to the bar, waving goodbye to the bartender before you head to the door. you turn before you leave, meeting san's eyes across the room, and you just smile to yourself as you step outside.

san is the first one in the clubhouse the next day. he loves the smell of an empty locker room, untainted by the man stench that inevitably comes with a roomful of athletes. he smiles warmly as he walks in and sees his locker decorated in welcome. he's looking through all the gifts, some regulation equipment he asked for and some just goodies from the team, as the players start slowly arriving.

the first to arrive is jongho. he's the catcher, and san finds it easy to talk to him. he seems quiet, but most catchers are the stoic type, so maybe jongho will open up to him in time. the next guy in has the opposite issue. wooyoung, the shortstop, immediately claps san into a hug, babbling a mile a minute about how great it's gonna be to have him on the team.

san gets stuck talking to wooyoung for a while, which he doesn't mind. they get along quickly, but as they talk the rest of the team trickles in. hongjoong, the second baseman, waves to san from across the room. seonghwa, the left fielder, carefully places his things into the locker next to san's, then gives san a wordless handshake and a warm smile. yunho, the first baseman, is spread out at the locker to san's right. mingi, the third baseman, is next to him. wooyoung finally leaves for his locker next to hongjoong, and next to him is yeosang, the center fielder. pitchers must not report today, because san scans the room and counts eight.

he checks the time and notices he's almost late for his press conference, so he gets to work getting dressed before someone appears at his side to escort him down the hall. she works in media relations and gives him the run down of the conference, explaining that the coach will do a quick intro before san comes up to say a few words. they'll shake hands, he'll sign his contract, and then take a few questions before reporting to more press stuff. nothing he hasn't done before, but san still brushes his sweaty hands on his pants to calm his nerves as they enter.

san hears the chatter of the press die down as their eyes fall on him. it's a big room, lots of reporters and cameras, and he smiles and waves as he gets ushered to the side of the makeshift stage in the front. the coach steps up then, welcoming everyone and giving a bit of insight on why they wanted to sign san. this team desperately needed a right fielder, so in all the negotiations it was basically just their operations team begging san to come play for them. the coach paints it a different way, and san does his best to grab onto a few phrases so he can sprinkle them into his own speech. the coach calls him up and san takes a seat next to him, falling smoothly into his regular "happy to be here, excited at the opportunity" spiel. he scans the room and recognizes a few faces, so he gets more comfortable as he goes on.

"i think at the end of the day, i'm looking for a team that i can be with for a long time," san starts to conclude. "and so far, i'm really liking it here. maybe this will be that team."

he goes through the motions of signing, shaking hands, posing for pictures, and then settles back into his seat for the question portion. at his other teams, he's been allowed to pick the press he talks to, so he scans the room for familiar faces, but media relations steps in and starts calling names. the first one takes him by surprise, and a smile grows on his face as he sees who steps up.

"y/f/n, local news," you smile back at san as the recognition crosses his features. "you said you're liking the city so far? can i ask what makes you think this team, this franchise, will be the one to make you stay?"

"you were at the bar last night," he responds, and you feel yourself blush. a chuckle ripples through the crowd of reporters as san goes on. "sorry, just. this is a surprise, is all."

"i agree," you quip back. "because yesterday you told me you didn't like this city. so i'm just wondering what made you change your mind."

"honestly? the people," he answers sincerely, holding your gaze. "it's hard to explain, but things feel...different here. i've never been with a team where the players are so welcoming, the staff is so kind, and the reporters are hanging out at local bars after hours." another laugh. "so i think this franchise might have more of the culture i've been missing from those other teams i've played for. that answer your question, y/n?"

"yep," you give him a satisfied nod. "happy to have you here, san."

"happy to be here," he smiles, and you swear the lights from all the cameras make his teeth sparkle. he keeps staring at you as media relations calls for the next question, and only when his attention is no longer on you do you realize that your heart is beating too fast.

today's only a press day for the boys, there's no actual training that needs to happen, but that doesn't mean the clubhouse is calm. no, actually, there's more people here than there will be for the rest of the season, what with all the camera crews and a few stylists running around. oh, and the fact that everyone who works here wants to get a peek at choi san. he left the press conference and saw a group down the hall, staring and whispering. san wasn't sure which way to go to find the locker room, so he approaches the group with a smile. turns out it's front office staff, part timers, anyone who works here that needed to see san with their own eyes to believe he's really playing here. he's charming as ever, learning everyone's names, signing things, taking pictures. he even stands by happily as an older woman calls her grandsons, and they laugh together as the little boys squeal in excitement.

san stays until everyone has what they wanted, which must have taken a while, because he sees the press trickling out toward the exit. he keeps his eyes peeled for one person in particular, and when you pass through the doors and turn san's way, he smiles. you stop, eyes focused on the notebook you're furiously scribbling in, so you don't see him. that won't do, san thinks, so walks over and stops in front of you with a sigh.

"what do you want san," you ask it as a statement, eyes not moving from your notes.

"how'd you know it was me?"

"i know everything," you look up then, meeting his smile with one of your own. "and you've got cleats on, so i knew it wasn't anybody from your fan club coming to ask for my notes."

"my fan club?" he laughs, but you can tell it boosts his ego. "i think they're just fans of the team."

"are you always like this?" you ask thoughtfully, and san says he doesn't know what you're talking about. "you're not cocky, but you're humble, and you're cocky about being humble. does that make sense?" you stop to scribble that down, and san tries again to see what else you've written. you catch him this time, tugging the notes just out of his line of sight. "don't you have pictures to take?"

"how'd you-"

"i told you, i know everything," you joke again, taking a moment to stuff your pen back in your bag. that leaves your notebook unattended, and san snatches it, running a few steps down the hall with evil glee. you stomp after him and fail in grabbing it from his eager hands.

"hey, this is good," san reads, his eyes scanning the paper. "you write all your stuff by hand?"

"depends," you shrug. "i started getting bored at the end of that talk and i needed to organize my thoughts."

"oh i can tell you were bored," san smirks, his eyes flicking to you. "i like the doodle of me."

"that doodle could be of anybody," you say as you finally snatch your notebook back. you put it securely in your bag as san continues to look smug.

"i think it was a doodle of me," he says as he starts walking away. "if you ever want me to sit for another portrait, you know where to find me, doll."

"where ya goin'?" you ask him, and he stops. he looks down the hall in front of him back towards you with his thumb pointing behind him.

"to the locker room?"

"that's this way dummy," you point, and you're pleased to see his ears turn red as he corrects his steps. you're heading to the exit, so you walk in the same direction briefly. san slows his steps to keep up with you, and he's so close that his hand keeps brushing yours.

"looks like this is where i leave ya, doll," he sighs, and you wave as you keep walking. "i'll see you soon?"

"you'd like that wouldn't you?" you turn around with a smirk, watching san as you push through the doors to the parking lot. "bye san."

san loves the first practice of the season. he loves the feeling of walking onto a brand new field, seeing the empty stadium ahead. at his his other teams, he's had to make this walk alone, his former teammates usually more reserved or too good to talk to him. not here, though. as he takes the field, he finds himself engrossed in a deep argument with jongho and wooyoung about the best world series team of all time, and san feels giddy. he feels like he did when he was a kid, playing ball with his friends, and it's only the first day of practice! imagine what an entire season here would be like. every day, san is thankful he made this move.

another reason for san to be happy he's here is, well, you. working with the press at other teams wasn't exactly a thrill, but rather a part of the job he had to get through. here he's eager to give a statement, always willing to join a press conference, just to have the chance of messing with you.

as he makes the long walk to the outfield for warm ups, san sees someone by the visitor's dugout who's not in uniform. he squints a little in the early morning sun and sees that it's a woman, but assumes it's someone from the front office. he keeps walking, but a laugh echoes out and san turns back to this mystery woman.

"y/n?" he shouts, holding his glove over his eyes to see if that'll block out the sun. sure enough, you turn from your talk with the managers to send him a wave, and that giddy feeling san had walking onto the field is back. "what are you doing here?"

"my job!" you shout back, and with that you go back to work. one of the coaches jogs by san then, tossing a baseball in his direction.

"stop shoutin', son," he says. "go throw that in left field. seonghwa will take you through the warm ups, then we'll come together for drills."

"yes sir," san nods, jogging over to his teammate. he steals one last glance at you, and he swears the sunlight makes you glow.

san is exhausted after practice. he knew playing for this team would challenge him, but damn. he's sore and it's only the first day! he's still catching his breath as the team mills about around him, and yunho smirks as he alerts the boys to san's condition.

"i think we wore the superstar out," yunho laughs, and san throws one of his sweaty towels at him. yunho screams and tosses it back, but mingi jumps in to grab it. "what the hell are you doing?"

"this is a sweaty towel used by the choi san," mingi says with importance. "do you know how much i could sell this for?"

"guys, come on," san laughs, snatching the towel back. "i'm not a superstar."

"says the superstar," wooyoung mumbles, and san contemplates throwing the towel again but decides not to, mingi is still close by.

"no, we get it," hongjoong assures him. "just because the press is saying that doesn't mean it's true. you're a part of the team, so you're a team player, right san?"

"yes, exactly-"

"please, i hope everybody is decent!" a familiar voice shouts from the doorway, and san smiles when he finds you standing there. you've got your notebook over your eyes to hide any naked players, but a quick sweep tells san that everyone is dressed for the most part.

"wait, wait!" jongho shouts as he fights to put a clean shirt on. some of the boys chuckle at him while san says, "dude, she's probably seen a guy shirtless before."

"but she's a lady, san," jongho insists. "it's not polite. and i don't like to have my nips out when i'm giving quotes."

"that's why he's my favorite," you say, finally risking a peek. "all good?"

to be honest, san is a little shocked you're here. it's kind of odd for a reporter to be in the locker room after a regular practice, but he trusts this team and how they run things. most importantly, he trusts you. but his shock holds true as you greet the team while making your way straight toward him.

"aw, she's just here for superstar," mingi pouts, and you make him hush.

"i have to publish my story on him today and need to check quotes," you explain. "i'm coming for you next, mingi."

as mingi celebrates, you surprise san further by walking right up to him and taking the seat by his locker. you're flipping through your notebook as he watches you, and after a few seconds you look at him then pat the bench next to you.

"come on, get cozy," you tell him. "you spoke too fast yesterday and i didn't catch all of your answers."

"because you were too busy doodling?" san teases, taking a seat exceptionally close to you.

"that was after you," you explain, but san sees your ears turn red. "can you look through this and tell me if anything rings a bell?"

"y/n, you may be good at your job, but you have shit handwriting," san says after staring at the page long enough for your chicken scratch to make his head hurt. some of the boys near him laugh, and yunho pops his head in to take a look.

"oh yeah that's illegible," yunho confirms. "cute drawing of san, though."

"go away yunho."

"yes ma'am."

you're able to piece together what san said in the press conference, so once you're satisfied you take a moment to type up the changes into your phone. you send the story off to your editor, but then start working through who else you need to talk to today. san is watching all of this, and when your eyebrows furrow in concentration, he leans in.

"i know what you're thinking," he whispers, and you have to shake from your concentration to look him in his sneaky eyes.

"what?"

"i said i know what you're thinking," he repeats with a shrug. when you don't respond, he keeps going. "i bet you're wondering, hm, is san free tonight? well, i am."

"i can't use that for my story," you tell him, and he bumps his shoulder into yours.

"this is when you say if you're free."

"is it?" you ask, gathering your things so you can move on to the next player. "i'm not quite sure about that yet."

"whatever, doll," san smiles. "you know where to find me."

you did know where to find him. you knew he would be at the bar tonight. you knew he wasn't supposed to be there, and you knew you shouldn't go looking for him but you couldn't help yourself. after all, you've got to take yourself out for a drink - you filed your first story of the season today. you deserve to celebrate!

as soon as you walk in you can tell it's a mad house. the bar is packed, and it reminds you of how busy it gets after a game. you wonder if it's just preseason excitement that has so many people here, but you don't wonder long. you're here for a drink, so you squeeze between two guys at the bar and wave the bartender down. everyone here knows you, so you get to cut the line.

"hey y/n," he smiles as he walks up. "want your regular?"

"yeah, but top shelf tonight," you tell him. "finished my first story of the season today."

"is it any good? maybe i'll read this one," the bartender jokes as he gets to work.

"i didn't know you could read," you tease, and you smile when he tosses his head back in a laugh. the sound draws someone's attention, but you're too busy flirting with the bartender to notice.

"and to think i was gonna pay your tab myself," he shakes his head.

"put whatever she gets on mine," someone says at your side, and you physically jump when you recognize who it is.

"san?"

"told you to come find me, doll, why are you surprised i'm here?" he smirks. you can tell he's wearing league issued workout clothes, but to the regulars in the bar he's just some dude in sweats. he's got a ball cap pulled low over his eyes, and if he didn't have such striking features you'd say he was blending in pretty well. "i thought we were getting a drink together."

"are we?" you ask. "because i don't recall you actually asking me." san dips his head, knowing that you caught him in a lie.

"can i get whatever she's drinking?" san asks the bartender as he finally places your drink down, and your mouth hangs open in surprise.

"what's this sparkly shit for?" you ask, flicking at the gold pompom on the toothpick poking out of your cup. there's also swirls of gold in your drink, and the bartender shrugs.

"you said you were celebratin'," he explains. "wanted to make sure the drink rose to the occasion."

"well thank you," you say as you lift the drink to your lips, mostly to hide your blush. san is watching this interaction next to you, doing a horrible job of hiding his disgust.

"here's your drink man," the bartender says, plopping a cup down in front of san. "her's was on the house. i added yours to your tab."

"how generous," san smiles, tipping his cup toward the bartender as he walks away. san turns to you slowly, and says, "he's nice."

"you shouldn't be here."

"why, am i interrupting your date?" san quips.

"no," you roll your eyes. "you shouldn't be seen here. lots of fans, you'll probably get stopped for pictures, autographs, kissing babies..."

"they don't let babies into bars, y/n," san smirks at you. "but thanks for looking out for me."

"isn't against team rules for you to go out during the preseason anyway?" you ask, knowing full well it is.

"i don't like following rules," san shrugs.

"oh so that's why you've played for six different teams in five years?" it's your turn to quip, and san whistles.

"you got me there, ace," he sighs. "so what's this about you celebrating tonight?"

"that's nothing," you try to brush it off. "i sent in that story about you, remember? well, it got approved, so i have a tradition of taking myself out for a drink here when my first story of the season is filed."

"taking yourself out?" san shakes his head. "no, no no no. that won't do. i'm getting you another drink, unless your boyfriend tries to pay for it again, and then we're going out."

"you have to report to practice at 7am," you remind him, and he groans, dropping his head on your shoulder.

"you knowing everything about the team is totally ruining my game."

"aw, you did a fine job of that yourself," you coo, patting his cheek. you cup his chin and pull him back up, and you hide a smile when you notice the blush on his cheeks. "maybe you can owe me? take me out for real?"

"i'd like that," san nods.

"i knew you would," you tease, and san reaches an arm out to pull you into his side. he over calculates and accidentally smacks the guy behind you, who turns around in a drunken haze ready to fight.

"what the-" he starts, anger in his swimming eyes. when they land on san, you both see recognition take over his features in slow motion. "holy shit y'all! it's choi san!"

"come on," you grab san's arm, tugging him in the opposite direction. you think there's an entrance out the back, so hopefully the two of you can squeeze through the masses before too many people catch on. as you drag san behind you, you hear the bar goers talking about the star in their midst. some drunk lady grabs sans arm and won't let go, and he won't shake her off like you tell him to. you get caught, the exit you were hoping for just in the distance. people start crowding around san, trying to wedge between you, but he won't let go of your hand. he finishes signing a bar napkin for a guy who definitely used a fake to get in here, and then you're pulling san along again. the crowd is starting to push, and they're all drunk. and rowdy. and loud.

"aw, look, he's already got himself a bitch!" someone shouts, watching you cling onto san as you push him toward the exit. he stops cold, looking around for the drunken idiot. he reinforces his idiocy by stepping forward, slurring his words as he says, "didn't take you long, son-" *hiccup* "always got sluts lookin' for ya-" *hiccup* "she's a pretty one too-"

before you register what he's doing, san shakes you off of his arm. he steps closer to the man, and you feel yourself calling his name, but in the chaos even you can't hear yourself. san pulls his arm back and clocks the man in the face, splattering blood from his now probably broken nose.

"SAN!" you shout, yanking him back toward you. "let's GO."

adrenaline and shock give you the strength to drag a stunned san out of the bar, but it's so packed there were people in the alley already. they weren't aware of what went on inside, so you're able to tug san around the corner. you rush him toward the parking deck, and thank your lucky stars you moved your car from the employee lot earlier. you shove san into your passenger seat, slamming the door shut so you can rush to the driver's side. as you start the car, you look to the side and see san sinking further into the seat.

"i fucked up," he whispers. you hear a quiver in his voice, but you don't press him. "fuck. i'm gonna get kicked off the team. am i gonna get arrested?"

"you won't get kicked off the team," you tell him softly. "and i'll call the bartender in a minute, explain it to him. just pray that asshole you punched doesn't press charges."

"y/n, i'm so sorry," san says, looking to you with a scared look in his eyes. "i just. i couldn't let him talk to you like that."

"thank you san," you say sincerely. "let me see your hand."

"no, it's fine," he insists, but when you touch it he flinches.

"fuck san, how are you gonna play tomorrow?"

"i'm so losing my job," he shakes his head, sitting up like he's going to leave.

"whoa, where are you going?"

"i have to go apologize," he says, trying to open the door but struggling to do it with his hurt hand. "shit, i have to pay for our drinks, and my car! i need to-"

"san," you say sternly, and he looks to you again with those sad eyes. "i'll fix it. ok? do you trust me?"

"yes," he nods vigorously.

"good," you nod back. "can you buckle your seatbelt or do i have to do that too?"

"where are we going?" san asks after securing his seatbelt. it's a good thing he did, because you whip your car out of its spot so fast his body slams against the strap. "seriously road runner, where are you taking me?"

"we need to fix your hand," you tell him. "i live close by, so i'll fix you up and then in an hour or two i'll bring you back for your car."

"thank you," san says. "you're saving my ass."

"just be really good this season, ok?" you ask him. "it'd be fun to watch my team win for once."

"anything for you, ace."

a few minutes later, you've got a sheepish all-star perched on the edge of your tub as you stand over him and wipe the blood from his hand. you already sent a text to the bartender, so that's cleared up. apparently, san was doing everyone a favor by punching that guy. no one likes him, so san's not in any trouble with the bar. chances are the guy won't press charges either, he tends to start shit around town so the cops wouldn't necessarily be on his side.

the main issue now is the team. there's pictures and videos floating around, and you were right, san wasn't supposed to be out tonight. he's got a missed call from hongjoong already, and you're helping san figure out what to say to the coaches now.

"just own up to it," you tell him. "they'll appreciate the honesty. and tell them you beat that guy up because he was being mean to me, that'll help your case too."

"no," san shakes your head. "i'm not bringing you into this. i don't want to hurt your reputation."

"do it," you shrug. "i was there. i was part of it. if you don't tell them now, i will tomorrow when i do their preseason interviews."

"are you sure?"

"yep," you reply. "it'll help take some of the heat off of you. sources tell me not everyone is sold on you yet, but if they know you were defending my honor it'll get you some respect in the clubhouse."

"do you have blackmail on all these guys?" san jokes as he tries to focus on typing a text with one hand. you're done wiping the blood from his knuckles, and you've found a small cut on his hand that you need to cover. you step away for a second to bend down in front of your sink, searching through the cabinet below. san tries to hide that he's staring, but he does a poor job. he watches still as you stand up and tear open a bandaid, but he scoffs when he sees what's on it. "you are not making me wear a hello kitty bandaid."

"so you want to get infected?" you ask as you put the bandaid on him anyway. you trace your thumb over it softly, making sure it's laying flat, but you realize how tender this moment is. you're holding san's bruised hand in yours, standing so close to him that your legs are between his spread ones. you take a step back, but san uses his free hand to grab you by the waist.

"where you going, doll?" he whispers, looking up at you softly.

"you need an ice pack," you whisper back.

"you're not gonna kiss it to make it better?" he pouts, and you laugh to hide the way your heart skipped a beat.

"that doesn't work you know," you say as you bring his hand to your lips regardless. you place a delicate kiss to his soft skin, holding eye contact with him to watch his reaction.

"you're right, that didn't work," he sighs, and you start to let go. "maybe this will?" he asks, bringing you closer before cupping your face and pulling you down to his lips. he kisses you once, separating from you with a satisfied look on his face. "there. i'm all good now."

"nice," you squeak. "was this all an elaborate ploy to make me kiss you? because you could've just asked."

"really?" san asks gleefully. "will you kiss me?"

"just did."

"again," he pouts, and you lean down to kiss him quickly. he uses both his hands to hold you in place, his lips caressing yours as he lets out a quiet hum. he pulls back just to lean his forehead against yours and says, "yeah, that's got healing power baby."

"you still need ice," you tell him, stepping back before he can grab onto you again. "come on. maybe we can kiss some more in my kitchen?"

san ends up sleeping on your couch. he wouldn't let you leave after fixing up his hand, insisting that you've done enough for him tonight. he'll deal with his car in the morning. you tried giving him the bed, but it barely worked. he wouldn't even let you finish your sentence before he started covering his ears and shaking his head. you gave him an innocent kiss goodnight after setting him up with more pillows and blankets than one guy needs, and you both went to sleep.

except, he wasn't there when you got up. you set your alarm earlier than you planned, but even then you walk into your living room to find all the pillows stacked and blankets neatly folded. the only sign that san was here. well, that and the breakfast he ordered that waits for you on your kitchen table.

san had to be the first one at practice, so he couldn't wait for you to wake up. he also couldn't burden you more than he already has, so he woke before dawn and got to work. his hand feels fine, not great, but he thinks he can get through practice. he's rehearsed what he's going to say to the coaches, the team, the press, and he hopes it's enough.

most of your work for the day will take place in a smaller media room that's been set up for your one-on-one interviews with the coaching staff. that means you have no reason to linger outside the locker room, hoping to see san and check that he's ok. you distract yourself by going over the notes for the first interview, and before you know it, there's a knock at the door. it's the pitching coach, one of your favorite people on the team. he pokes his head in and smiles, so you welcome him as you dive into the same spiel you always do for these interviews. you're a pro, and the guys know what they're doing too, so it should be easy going. but as soon as you sit down to start, the coach stares at you with a look that's up to no good.

"so you were out with san last night," he states.

"i wasn't out with him," you explain. "we happened to be at the same bar."

"i heard he wrecked his hand defending you," the coach continues.

"he wrecked it?" you ask, more concern in your voice than you probably needed. "will he be able to play?"

"he'll play just fine," he nods. "don't you worry. we all heard what happened. shoot, some of the coaches and me were sending the videos back and forth last night. i tell you what, the boy's an idiot, but we've let men get by with worse. like i said, don't you worry."

"good," you breathe in relief. "then should we get started?"

it was a long day, after an incredibly long night, so when it's time for you to leave you're exhausted. you've been all over the place today, trying to keep up with your schedule, tracking people down for interviews, and you misplaced your notebook at least four times. you can't wait to get home, shower, and immediately go to sleep, but as you approach your car you realize you've lost your keys.

"shit," you hiss, dumping most of your bag out onto the hood of your car. you're mining through all your junk, wondering if it's too late to head back inside.

"hey," san says from behind you, and you jump.

"jesus!" you whip around to stare at him. "you scared me!"

"sorry ace," he smiles sheepishly. "thought you heard me coming."

"obviously not!" you screech, your heart still racing. "what's up?"

"looking for these?" he asks, dangling your keychain in front of you.

"oh my god you're a life saver," you sigh in relief, taking the keys from him gratefully. "how did you know these were mine?"

"i recognized them from last night," he shrugs. "and from the mascot keychain. i remember someone saying they had a childhood obsession with phil the bucket?"

"stop paying so much attention to me, could you?" you ask as you start shoveling your things back into your purse.

"here, let me help," san says as he joins you. he holds your purse open as you slide its contents back inside. "i owe you from last night, so consider this my starting point."

"the starting point?" you smile at him, and he nods.

"yep," he says nonchalantly. "first i found your keys, now the bag thing, and next, i don't know, maybe i take you to dinner?"

"hm, tonight?" you ask, and he nods again. "i have plans."

"then cancel them," san replies. you can tell he's joking by the glimmer of mischief in his eyes, but you know he really wants you to say yes.

"where would we go?"

"somewhere nice so i can spoil you," san says simply, closing your purse and walking to the driver's side of your car. "can i pick you up in thirty?"

"thirty minutes isn't enough time to get ready for a date, san," you frown.

"yeah, but any longer and i'll miss you too much," he pouts. you cup his chin and bring that pout to your lips, kissing him softly before you pull away.

"did that buy me another thirty?"

"twenty," he replies. "maybe twenty five if you promise to wear something sexy."

"deal."

as promised, san is outside your building exactly fifty five minutes later. you worried that not having his number and vice versa would make it hard to coordinate, but you're surprised when you check your phone and find that he texted you.

"i'm outside, ace," his text reads. no 'this is san' or anything to identify himself. you know it's him, so you tell him you're coming out.

you worry briefly you won't know which car is his, but as soon as you step outside you let out a soft laugh. of course he's got the most expensive car here, and of course he's leaned against the passenger door waiting for you. he lets out a low whistle as you approach, and you could act coy, but the reporter in you has to ask, "how'd you get my number, san?"

"i'm not giving up my source," he smiles smugly, opening the door for you. "you look incredible."

"it's nice seeing you in something other than baseball clothes for once," you reply. you take his hand and let him help you into the car, watching intently as he crosses the front to reach the driver's side. you're turned to him when he sits, and ask, "seriously. was it hongjoong? one of the coaches? you know they'll be on your ass if they find out you took me on a date."

"i'm not telling," san smirks again. "you gonna buckle your seatbelt or you need me to do it for you?"

"why, you a bad driver or something?" you tease.

"says the woman who gave me whiplash last night."

"i was trying to make a quick getaway before you got stormed by adoring fans again," you remind him.

"always looking out for me," he shakes his head. "i think someone has a crush." you don't respond, instead looking out the window to hide your smile. "you not saying anything isn't helping your case."

"no comment?" you reply, feeling proud at the blush on san's cheeks when you turn back to him. "so where's the superstar taking me?"

"san, the very nice young man you agreed to go out with, is taking you to one of his favorite restaurants," he replies.

"you've lived here like a week, how do you already have a favorite restaurant?"

"there was a place in one of the cities i used to play in, i went there every week," he explains as he drives. you catch yourself staring, but he doesn't seem to mind, so you continue. "the nicest staff. best food. always packed. then one day, it's gone. the owner and his wife moved so they could be closer to their daughter while she was at school, and they ended up here. he gave me a call as soon as my trade was final." you guess a couple places it could be, but they're all wrong. "so ms. know it all doesn't actually know it all?"

"don't call me that," you groan. "there's plenty i don't know."

"enlighten me, ace."

"i can't do math to save my life," you admit, and that gets a laugh out of san. "i don't know how to fold a fitted sheet. and don't tell anyone, but that new stat all the baseball pundits are talking about? it makes no sense to me."

"oh, that's easy," san says, and he falls into a comfortable conversation about baseball. you always wanted this from the guys you date, but despite your work, most guys assume that you don't know anything about sports because you're a woman. you're grateful that you don't feel that way around san, and you start to relax a little bit. you're not on a date with superstar outfielder choi san, you remind yourself. just san. just a, what did he say, a very nice young man?

that niceness continues when he parks his car, rushing to your door to get it for you. he takes your hand to help you out and doesn't let go as you walk in, and you're genuinely shocked that you haven't heard of this place before. it's fabulous, beautiful inside and out, and as soon as you walk in you're hearing san's name called. but this time it's not a fanatic, just a kind looking man and his wife.

"sannie!" she exclaims, pulling him into a soft hug. "oh, it's so nice to see you again. we were so happy when we heard you were coming here. i think it'll be good for you."

"me too," san agrees. he turns to the man then, the owner, and they exchange a manly handshake and similar pleasantries before he turns to you. "this is y/n, by the way. star reporter, loved by all-"

"and way out of your league," the owner winks at you. you feel yourself blush as san agrees, and then he's escorting you to your table. as you walk through the restaurant you notice it's surprisingly empty. didn't san say their last place was always full?

the owner helps you with your seat as his wife explains the specials, but you don't see a menu anywhere. you look at san quizzically and he gives you a look that says he'll explain shortly. after some more kindness, the owner and his wife are gone, and you get a chance to really take this place in.

"if you're wondering where the menu is," san starts, "they won't give us one. they never let me order when i come here, they just decide for me. and it's the best food i've ever had, each time."

"can't wait," you smile at him. "is this place as popular as their last one, you think?"

"i know it is," san nods. "that's why i booked it just for us."

"what?"

"i told them i was bringing a date and they offered to stay open late for us," he shrugs. "i hope that's not weird?"

"no," you reply. "i'm sure they're used to it by now."

"used to what?"

"you bringing dates here," you answer. "i can't be the only lucky lady you've done this with."

"well consider yourself lucky, ace," he says. "you're different."

"like can't be seen in public with me different?" you tease. "san, i'm flattered."

"no ace," he laughs. "i wanted this to be special, but if you want a crowd i can call the team-"

"no," you cut him off, grabbing his hand that's laid out on the table. "i like this. it's nice."

"told you i was gonna spoil you, doll," san smiles. "get used to it."

"should i?" you challenge, but san just continues smiling as a waiter brings by your drinks. you feel your walls falling more and more as the night goes on, as you and san eat some of the best food you've ever had. he's fun to be around, you think. maybe you'll give him more of a chance than you were expecting.

"so. i have a question," san says after the plates from your meal are cleared. you're waiting for dessert, but you're not sure you can eat much more.

"shoot," you tell him. "i ask you plenty, so ask away."

"in the locker room, yesterday i think? you said jongho was your favorite," he finishes with a pout.

"that's not a question," you laugh. "you'd be a shitty reporter."

"compared to you, everyone is," san replies. "but i meant, why is he your favorite? were you serious or just joking?"

"if i had to pick a favorite," you start, "i think it would be jongho. i've always liked catchers, so that works in his favor. he's fun to watch, and a lot of fun to work with."

"you have a thing for catchers?" san teases. "why?"

"not a thing," you say, wishing you could kick him underneath the table. "but maybe? i don't know. catchers do have really nice thighs."

"and outfielders?" san tries.

"never stood out to me," you reply. "it's either catchers or third basemen." you start to explain how your favorite player of all time, the one who got you into baseball, played third base, and you don't worry about sounding too much like a fangirl. you admit to the jerseys, the baseball card collection, all of it, and when you finish you look up to find san watching you with an amused look on his face. "what? too much?"

"no," he shakes his head. "i'm just thinking how good you'd look in one of my jerseys."

"try playing third," you tease. "maybe i'll buy one."

dessert comes then, and your focus turns to the amazing food again. maybe it was just you, but you felt a sort of...tension when you were talking just now. you weren't planning on sleeping with san, really ever, but that look in his eyes when he thought about you in his jersey, maybe the date won't end here.

after another visit from the owner and his wife, and plenty of take out to last you a few days, you're walking back to san's car. there's a chill in the air, so you gravitate to him for warmth. his arm circles around your waist, pulling you to his side, and he squeezes your hip. you feel goosebumps erupt on your skin, and you wonder again where the night might be going.

ever the gentleman, san helps you back into your seat and places your food carefully in the back. you're looking at him now in a new light, imagining how his hands would feel on your hips without a layer of clothes separating your skin from his. you're so caught up in your thoughts that you don't notice san has taken his seat, or that he said something to you. you ask him to repeat it, and he has a happy look on his face as he says, "thanks for going out with me, doll."

"thanks for asking," you reply. "i had a great time."

"good," he nods with finality, starting the car without another word. he doesn't even look at you again until he gets close to your building, and all those thoughts of what would happen next have left your mind. whatever vibe you caught from him in the restaurant was gone, he obviously wasn't planning on coming up to your apartment after this. your suspicions were confirmed when he pulls up to your door, turning to you with that same sappy look. "i had a great time tonight, y/n. thank you."

"yeah, sure," you mewl, gathering your things. "um, the food-"

"take all of it," san insists, twisting back to grab the bags. "this isn't exactly on my in-season diet, so i'm not sure how much i could sneak before the dietician clocks me for it."

"right, thanks," you nod, laden down with bags as you struggle to open your door. "well, thanks."

"you said that already ace."

"right," you repeat. "um, so, see you at work i guess?"

"looking forward to it," he smiles softly. "text me when you get in?"

"right," you say again, stepping out of his car without looking back.

the season starts shortly after your date with san, so you're too busy with work to think about it.

except that's a lie, you can't stop thinking about it. how could san be so flirty, act so into you, and then end the night without so much as a kiss goodbye? you don't want it to, but it's bothering you.

you don't have a reason to see him, at work or otherwise, until the first day of the season. you're set up in the dock next to the home dugout so you can get updates or a quick interview for the broadcast. you see san for the first time in days then, sitting there with your notebook and a headset, as he takes the field for warmups. it might be your mind playing tricks on you, but you swear san looks for you as he waits for seonghwa. as soon as his eyes find yours he turns around, jogging to the outfield after. you shake it off and get to work, checking your notes to make sure you've got the info right for the game. san will be the leadoff hitter, and you feel a pit of excitement in your stomach at the thought of watching him play. just from watching him in practice you know he's good, but he's electric when there's a real win on the line. still, you don't let your thoughts linger on him too long. you've got a job to do.

the game runs like clockwork, and the team easily knocks down three outs to switch sides. you don't look up when they walk to the dugout, afraid of catching san's eyes again. you don't look up until you hear the announcer call san's name, watching his back as he walks to the plate. through your headset, you can hear the commentators upstairs in the press box listing off his accomplishments at past teams, painting him in this otherworldly light. he's a superstar for a reason, his stats show that, and the way they're talking about him upstairs shows that everyone is captivated by him.

the pitcher, not intimidated by the silver slugger he's facing, sets up his first pitch. it's a curveball, somewhere in the 80 mph range, and it looks like it's gonna be a ball. but san is confident, his stance strong, his shoulders poised just so, and you watch in amazement as he rears back and completely shreds it. the ball is gone before anyone knows what's happening, and your eyes stay locked on san as he rounds the bases. when he approaches first, he looks directly at you, pointing in your direction as he turns at the bag. your heart is racing, you notice, and you shake off your surprise so you can describe the hit in your already cramped notes.

the rest of the game is exciting, but nothing matches san's leadoff homer. you could tell that lit the team up, an enthusiasm in every at bat, every play. your team wins, by a lot, and you go through the motions of finding players and coaches to interview for the post-game show as fans file out and the grounds crew comes in. the one person you're hoping to snag is nowhere to be seen, though.

by the time you're done with your work on the field, the post-game conference is already over. you're not sure if san gave a quote there and that's why you missed him on the field, but you don't care. the team won't mind, so you make your way to the locker room to find the man who's been running laps through your head all day.

san knows as soon as you enter the locker room that you're looking for him. he's showered and dressed in his outside clothes, his jersey neatly folded on the bench beside him as you approach.

"hey ace," he greets you. "some game huh?"

"it was good," you nod. "nice hit."

"glad you liked it," he replies cockily. "did it for you."

"can i quote you on that?" you ask, and san chuckles.

"come on doll, why the cold shoulder? i did what you asked, i helped your team win. figured that would get me on your good side."

"i just need a quote about that hit," you stand your ground. "i'm risking my innocence the longer i stay here, so if you could just say something arrogant on the record, i'll be on my way."

san can tell something is up, so he returns your formality with some of his own. you're in and out in less than five minutes, heading to the press room to collect your thoughts before you shoot your editor a text about your incoming story. as you stand there typing, you hear someone come up behind you so you start walking toward the exit.

"y/n, wait," san calls, and you want to walk faster. you want to leave and not look back, but he adds a quiet, "please." and you take a deep breath before you turn.

"what's up?" you ask. "i've got a deadline."

"you left this," san says simply, offering you the folded jersey from his locker. "i...whatever. it was my jersey from this game. i want you to have it."

"what?" you're shocked, aware of how much it costs for a player to give away a game worn jersey. it may not be much to san in the long run, but still. it softens your heart and you take it wordlessly, searching for something to say in thanks.

"well," san sighs. "see you tomorrow."

"san, wait!" you call before he can get too far. he looks back at you hopefully, and you jog to catch up with him. "why..." as you trail off, you look up to him and find an unreadable look on his face. "sorry for being a dick earlier, i just-"

"no worries," he shakes his head. "i get it, the season changes things, so-"

"did you take me out the other night to pay me back for helping you at the bar?" you ask what you've been wondering for a few days now. "because, i don't know. i thought we...or i, um, i felt...something. and when you dropped me off, it was like you changed."

"changed how?"

"before that, i thought you were into me," you try to say nonchalantly. "but after..."

"you think i'm not into you now?" he asks sadly, and you nod. "check your facts, ace. i think it's the opposite."

"well i wasn't sure-"

"you want me to prove it?" san asks, taking a step closer to you. "or you got a story you need to get back to?"

"i have time," you whisper, looking in his eyes. they're darker, more serious, a little hooded. that tension you felt the other night is back, and it takes your breath away briefly.

"come with me," san's tugging your hand, dragging you along behind him as he leads you outside. a quick scan of the parking lot tells him you're alone, so he rushes you to his car. again, he helps you in, rushing to toss his things in the back. you're sitting there, his jersey gripped in one hand and your notebook in the other. when he opens his door, you mumble something about your stuff, but he cuts you off. "you can get it tomorrow, ace. i'm taking you home now."

"but my keys-"

"i'm taking you to my place," he cuts you off again, looking to you as he starts the car. "there a problem?

"no," you reply meekly, and san is satisfied. he drives like a madman to his place, not far from the stadium. he parks in the deck below, bringing you with him to an elevator close by. he punches the button to his floor before he pounces, cupping your face to crash his lips into yours.

"can't believe you thought i didn't want you," he grumbles, dragging his hands to your neck, down your arms, to grip your waist. "ridiculous." he kisses you again, pulling you by the waist out of the elevator into his hallway. he only detaches from you to find his keys, hands steady as he undoes the lock. he pulls you inside and doesn't give you a chance to look around, capturing your lips in a kiss again. you finally drop your stupid notebook, embarrassed that you've been holding onto it this whole time. you start to let go of his jersey too, but he stops you. "what are you doing, ace? told you i've been thinking about you wearing my jersey."

"what-"

"put it on, baby," he coaxes you, his hands guiding yours. "let's get you out of this librarian dress and into something a little sexier."

"san, slow down," you say breathlessly, following him into his apartment. he collapses on the couch, watching you with that same fire in his eyes from earlier. "what now?"

"change," he replies. "put the jersey on."

"not fair," you pout. "i'm gonna be naked and i don't even get to see you shirtless?"

san tears his shirt off in record time, sitting back with a challenging look on his face.

"your turn, doll."

with shaky hands, you undo the zipper to your dress, letting it fall as san lets out a hiss of air. you slide your arms into the jersey, amazed that it still smells like his cologne after a game in the sun. you kind of flop your arms out after that, like a 'what now?' and san pats his thigh.

"sit," he commands.

"what?"

"you ask a lot of questions."

"it's my job," you quip back, and san lets his head fall back in a laugh.

"you said you had a thing for thighs, baby. figured you'd be jumping at the chance to ride mine."

spurred on by adrenaline and the growing pit of excitement in your stomach, you do as he says, straddling his thigh as you drape your arms over his broad shoulders.

"what now?" you whisper into his ear, nipping just beneath it to drive him insane. his hands return to your waist, and whispering into your ear, he says, "ride me, doll."

you grind against his thigh, sucking in a breath at the friction. you take it at your own pace, going slow so you don't overwhelm your senses. san's warm skin under your hands, his scent surrounding you, it's intoxicating. you let your hips move on their own accord, picking up speed as the pressure in your core builds. you let out a breathy moan when he bounces his leg, and his grip on your waist tightens.

"how's it feel, baby?" he asks, watching you intently.

"good, san, feels good."

"then go faster," he smirks. "might feel even better." you do, gasping as a hand leaves your waist to trace over your bra. his hand dips beneath the fabric, pulling a breast free before moving to the next cup to do the same. both of his hands find your chest, tweaking your nipples as he watches you unravel above him. "how's it feel now?"

"i'm close," you whine, hips jerking as your core gets too sensitive. you try to stand, to move things along, but san grabs onto your ass and guides you against his thigh.

"if you're close then why are you running away?" he chuckles. "show me how good it feels, ace."

"fuck," you whisper, grinding against him harder. "i'm almost there, but i-i can't, san, need more. need your fingers."

"you do?" he pouts. "i don't think you've earned it."

"i have," you whine, squeezing his thigh between yours. "fuck. if you don't do it i will."

"show me," he challenges, and you stand before he can stop you. you take your panties off, tossing them somewhere before sitting back down on his thigh. you cry out at the new contact, your arousal ruining his pants. you look down and see just how much you're dripping onto his leg, moaning as san guides you faster. you pop two fingers into your mouth and then reach down to rub your clit, crying out as you come.

"fuck, san," you moan, hips sputtering over him as you chase your high. "jesus." you let your head fall to his shoulder, your hand stilling at your core as you catch your breath.

"so dirty, baby," he whispers, brushing your hair away from your neck to trail kisses across your skin. his jersey has fallen from your shoulder, so he takes his time leaving a mark on the exposed skin as you come down. "you look real good in my jersey, making yourself feel good like that."

"what now?" you ask again, nipping at his ear.

"you ready so soon?" he asks. "so eager."

"i'm afraid you're gonna come in your pants," you whisper in his ear. "don't wanna ruin the fun before it even starts."

you shriek then, feeling san lift you like it's nothing. he kicks his bedroom door open before dropping you on the bed, taking a minute to admire you splayed out on his sheets as he undoes his pants. you're still breathless, watching him undress, and you feel your breath catch when he pulls his cock free.

"what, don't think you can handle it?" san asks, tearing a condom packet open with his teeth. "gotta say, i'd be disappointed."

"try me."

san crawls over you next, trapping your hands in his as he drags them above your head. he holds them in place as he guides his cock to your core, slapping it against your clit teasingly. you moan, hips bucking to chase the feeling. he keeps teasing you though, coating his cock in your arousal.

"so wet for me, baby," he groans. "are you like this when i play?"

"no," you grit your teeth. "san, please-"

"please what, baby?" he asks, stopping completely. his tip is pressed to your entrance, but he's not moving, and you squirm beneath him. "use your words, pretty girl. you get this wet when you see me?"

"when i think about fucking you, yeah," you respond honestly.

"and how often is that? just ballpark."

"sometimes."

"every day?" he asks, pressing his tip past your walls. he won't give you more than that, so you whimper, and he smirks. "tell me."

"since we kissed," you admit, wishing you could hide your blushing cheeks.

"aw, baby's been desperate that long?" he tsks. "i'm sorry, doll. didn't know you wanted me that bad."

"just fuck me, san."

"ask me."

"huh?"

"ask me how often i think about fucking you," he replies with a shit eating grin.

"how often?"

he thrusts into you, pulling a moan from deep within your chest. he leans down and kisses you, biting your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls away. then he whispers, thrusting with each word, "every single day."

he keeps thrusting into you, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. you moan into his mouth, whining his name, and you twist away long enough to ask, "let go of my hands. wanna touch you."

he lets you go, and your hands grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. he groans, egging you on, and you drag your nails down his back as you say, "your shoulders."

"what?"

"your shoulders. they drive me insane," you admit. "catchers have nice thighs, sure, but, fuck, you're built like a god."

"a god?" he smiles, and you can tell you're gonna regret saying that. "what else drives you insane?"

"hm, everything about you?" you reply. "you're infuriating."

"and you're close already," he smirks. "i can feel you clenching around me, baby. this feels good too?"

"so good," you nod. "can i come?"

"wait," he hisses, pulling out as you whine. "patience, baby. wanna try something else."

you let san move you how he wants, sitting up further on his bed as he props your legs open. he slides his hands beneath your legs, almost folding you in half as he cups your head. he moves you so you can see your dripping pussy, shining in the low light of his room.

"help me out, ace," he says, and with shaky hands you guide him back to your entrance. he thrusts, both of you watching as he enters you, and you moan in sync as he thrusts all the way in. he stills for a moment, loving the way you clench around him, and he speeds up, fucking you so fast you can't catch your breath. "shit. look at you, taking me so well."

"can i come now?" you whine, but he shakes his head again. "san!"

"wait for me, baby," he insists, thrusting faster. you can barely take it, but then his hips jerk, and you know he's close. "now, come on my cock, fuck-"

"san, oh my god," you cry out, bucking forward until your forehead is pressed against his, watching as you come around him. you feel him come with you, and you stay trapped in his hold as he slows down. he kisses you softly before he lets go, his hands carding through your hair as he helps you lay down.

"be right back," he whispers, kissing your forehead before he disappears. he comes back with water and a wet washcloth, handing you the cool glass as he cleans you up. you hand it back to him when he's done so he can take a sip, and then he leaves again to toss the condom. he collapses back into bed when he returns, immediately pulling you into his chest as he nuzzles his head into your neck. "can't believe you'd think i didn't want you, doll."

"this might be the first time anyone's proved me wrong," you tease, yelping when you feel him bite your skin. "mean!" he moves to lay his chin on your chest, looking up at you with warmth in his eyes. you brush some of his sweaty hair from his forehead as he speaks.

"do you wanna stay the night?" he asks. "please say yes. but if you don't want to, give me a minute and i can drive you home. but i really want you to stay."

"i'll stay," you nod, cupping his cheek as you stare at him. "you're really handsome, you know?"

"am i?" he smiles. "tell me more."

"that's all you get," you say as you flick his nose, and he scoots up the bed to lay his head next to yours. you're both quiet for a minute, thoughts flooding your head. you don't realize you're frowning until san whines.

"what's that face for?" he pouts, propping himself up on his arm as he stares down at you. "you want to go home."

"no, i'm just thinking," you pout back.

"about?"

"what will the team say if they see our walk of shame?"

"about time," he replies, kissing you before he lays back down. "i talk about you all the time, so i'm sure they'll be thrilled to know i finally got some."

"you're sick," you giggle, pinching him. "but maybe you should go in first. just to be safe."

"whatever you want ace," he hums, looking at you again. "you gonna sleep in my jersey, or can i give you another shirt to wear?"

despite your exhaustion from your night with san, you still had a story to write. it wasn't yet midnight, so after san gave you a shirt to sleep in you stayed up, furiously typing on your phone to get the story done in time. you thought san had fallen asleep beside you, his quiet breathing providing a sort of metronome to keep you focused. but as you got to a certain point in your story, you realized you need your notebook. you can't remember where it might be, so you try to quietly slip out of bed and go looking.

"come back to bed," san grumbles, making you jump.

"i thought you were asleep," you whisper, looking at him from the doorway. the sheets have pooled around his waist, and his chest is flushed. you wish you could just lay down with him, rest your head on his warm chest, and fall into the deepest sleep. but you've never filed a story late, and you're not interested in doing so tonight.

"i'm not going to sleep till you do," he answers, rubbing his eyes. he pulls the sheets away and slides out of bed himself, shuffling toward the door after you.

"what are you doing?" you ask, taking a step back.

"if you leave me alone in here i might die," he says seriously. "you looking for your notebook? i put it on my coffee table," he explains, placing his hand at the small of your back while he guides you through his apartment. you barely have a second to grab it from the table before san is pulling you down onto the couch with him, locking you in his hold on his lap.

"um, san?" you ask. "i need my arms." he groans as he loosens his grip, and you try to scoot over to take up the ample space left on the couch.

"uh uh," he shakes his head, looking at you with sleepy eyes. "you're staying right here until you finish."

"but you'll distract me," you pout, which san tries to kiss away.

"distract you, or motivate you to hurry up so we can go to sleep?"

"fine," you sigh, getting comfortable in his lap as you prop your notebook open on his chest. "keep that there for me."

"yes ma'am," he mumbles, closing his eyes as you work. you flip through a few pages and find what you were looking for, trying to concentrate on transcribing the quote, but it's hard. you're not comfortable, so you keep shifting. san's hands tighten around you, but you ignore it. just a few more minutes and you'll be done, but damn, is your leg cramping? you try to move again, but end up yelping when you feel san pinch your thighs. "baby," he whines. "stop moving. i'm getting hard."

"jesus, really?" you ask, shifting again to see for yourself. "oh hello there."

"stop," san chuckles, looking at you with hooded eyes. "are you almost done?"

"i've got a few more sentences, then i need to proofread it," you reply. "so kinda."

"alright," he nods. "keep working, ace." so you do, reading back a few lines to catch your train of thought. you frown though, feeling san's hands trail up your thighs to play with the material of your panties.

"san, stop," you tell him. "you're being a distraction."

"ah, no i'm not," he says, cupping you in his hold as he sits forward. he fidgets with something for a minute before resting back against the cushions, and you gasp when you feel his cock against you. "i'm motivating you, remember?"

"san, what are you doing-"

"just keep working baby," he coos, pulling your panties to the side before sliding his cock through your folds. "want you to sit on it until you finish."

"funny," you twist his nipple, and he hisses.

"ah, no pun intended," he smiles, "but happy coincidence. come on, i'm bored, and if i don't do this i'll fall asleep."

"then sleep! i won't be able to focus with you...in me."

"try," san kisses you, sitting back with a smirk. "i believe in you baby. now keep working."

you look at the time and groan, because you don't have time to argue with him. you watch as he lifts your hips and sinks into you, letting out a shaky breath once your hips are slotted against his. he keeps his eyes on you, taking in every wince, every jolt, every bite of your lip to stop from whimpering. you feel so full, and san is so warm, and you can't focus but you're almost done-

"read the story to me," san says next, breaking through your thoughts once again.

"hold on," you say, completing the final sentence before you scroll back to the top. "on the record i think you're insane."

"that's a weird way to start an article about baseball," san smirks, so you roll your hips to get him to shut up. you start reading your story, and he listens like he's hooked on every word. at the first mention of his name, he lifts you up slightly before bringing your hips back down and you stutter on your words. "come on ace, keep reading."

"fuck you," you breathe out.

"you are," he smirks again, and you grit your teeth as you continue. you speed through the story, but san keeps slowly fucking you as you go. you find a typo and he stills while you fix it, but as you get to the end he picks up speed. when you finally read the last word, you place a hand on his chest and he stops again.

"let me send this to my editor, please, and then you can keep defiling me," you beg.

"i learn so many new words being around you," san jokes, but you're not listening. you manage to send the story at 11:59 exactly, and you toss your phone away before grabbing onto san's shoulders.

"you need a hobby or something," you get out between moans as he starts fucking you again. "fuck. feel so full, san."

"yeah?" he sighs. "you feel incredible. so tight, so warm for me."

"shit, you're not wearing a condom," you realize. "get out."

"hold on," he whines. "i'll pull out. just give me a minute. are you close?"

"very confident in your skills," you point out. "we haven't been fucking that long."

"but i can feel you dripping around me," he says, pinching your hips. "feel you squeezing me. i know you're loving this baby."

"i'm almost there," you fess up, rolling your hips against him to get some more friction. he brings a hand around to your core, his thumb tracing over your clit so teasingly it's driving you insane. you collapse in his hold, your head resting against his shoulder as you let out breathy moans. he slows down, just to tease you more, and you bite his shoulder.

"ow!"

"keep going," you groan against his skin. "gonna come, fuck-" and you feel your high crash into you, hips jerking against san's as you come. you're quick to hop off of him, which he protests, but you sit before him on your knees as you stroke his cock. he's got to be close, so you bring his tip to your lips to suck him into your mouth. he lets go almost immediately, gasping above you as he comes into your mouth. as soon as he's done, he pulls you off of him with a huff.

"show me, doll," he rasps, and you stick your tongue out to show him his release. you swallow most of it, some drips sneaking past your lips so you sit up and wipe them off on the edge of his boxers, still caught around his knees. "hey!"

"you can deal," you tell him, standing with his help. your legs are shaky, and the exhaustion is really hitting you now. "come on, let's go to bed before you keep us up all night."

for the next week or so, you and san fall into a habit of going home with each other after each game. the first two series of the season are at home, so it makes things easy for you. you don't have to talk about what you are to san or vice versa, it's just understood that any free time you have will be spent with each other.

you're getting nervous, though, because the first away series is this weekend. you're strictly a local reporter, so you don't travel with the team. you'll report solely based on what the broadcast team on site is saying, or by bugging the team with phone calls. a little piece of you is nervous that san will fall back into his superstar ways, because he did have a reputation before coming here for having...friends...in every city. you try to push that feeling away for now, but it keeps nagging you at the worst times.

like now, san has cornered you in the clubhouse, kissing you in between questions for your next story and all you can think about is the trip this weekend. you're trying to focus on the story, really. the team is on an unbeaten streak, and some of the guys have cited san as the reason for that. word around the team is that his energy and passion for the game has made them better. you're trying to get something heartfelt out of him, but he's distracted.

"baby, i'm doing some of my best work here," he mumbles against your lips. "can't the questions wait?"

"i'm on a deadline san, you know that," you say as you put your hand on his chest and push back. "two more questions, and then i'm all yours."

"fine," he sighs, taking a step back. his hands stay on your waist as you talk, his thumbs rubbing your skin beneath your shirt. you're able to get what you need, so you stop the recording on your phone and put it away.

"you know, if anyone ever hears those, i'd be fired," you tell him as you drape your arms over his shoulders.

"good thing i'm loaded," san smirks. "i can buy their silence and you can keep your job."

"you know i used to be a clean reporter?" you pinch his neck. "you're really blurring my ethical lines here."

"i won't tell if you don't," he whispers, kissing you again. you stay like that, lips locked together, until a buzzing in san's pocket interrupts you. "ah, i should get that."

"who's calling? you don't have friends," you tease him, your uneasy mind wondering if it's one of his usuals from out of state.

"it's the equipment team," he explains, "they've never packed my stuff for an away trip before so they want to confirm before they ship out."

san answers the call, but keeps a protective arm hooked around you so you can't leave. you distract yourself with a stray thread on his shirt as he talks, and when he hangs up he places his hand over yours.

"whatcha thinking about, ace?"

"when do you leave for the series this weekend?" you ask nonchalantly, avoiding his gaze.

"day after tomorrow," he replies. "i figured we'd get an off day here, but they want us to come in for an extra practice to stay sharp."

"gotta keep that win streak going on the road," you tell him. "like you promised."

"exactly," he smiles. "so when will you leave?"

"huh?"

"for the series," san asks in an equally confused tone. "you're coming with us, right?"

"i don't travel with the team," you shake your head. "so i'll be here, wasting away."

"aw, you're gonna miss me," san coos, pulling you into his side as he walks you down the hall. "guess i gotta fit in as much y/n time as i can before i go."

"seems like it," you give him a tightlipped smile before pulling away. "i gotta go back out to the field, i'm doing a report in a few minutes. so i'll text you when i'm done?"

"sure," he nods, kissing your forehead before you go.

you went back to your apartment at the end of the day, tired and mind racing. you're not even dating san, why are you so concerned about what he might get up to on this road trip? you try to busy yourself until san comes by with dinner, so you're in the middle of washing dishes when there's a knock at your door. you let san in, stepping to the side in your small entryway to let him through. it leaves him standing incredibly close to you as you close the door, but once the space is cleared he stays where he is.

"you can come in, weirdo," you laugh. "do you need me to move?"

"no hug? no kiss?" he complains, pouting his lips as if waiting for a smooch.

"my hands are wet," you say as you hold them up, "so no hug, but-" you stand on your toes and aim a kiss perfectly on top of lips, spinning around quickly after to go back to the kitchen. "put everything on the coffee table, i'll get plates."

you walk into your living room to find a feast laid out for you. how'd you miss san carrying in so much food? you place plates down for you both, sitting next to san so your thighs touch. he piles food on your plate as you tell him about the rest of your day, but when he keeps going you make him stop.

"do you think i never eat?" you laugh. "why the mountain of food?"

"i'll be out of town for a while," he shrugs. "gotta make sure you're taken care of before i go."

"right," you nod. "thank you, but this is plenty."

"want me to feed it to you?" he asks with a sappy look on his face, but you know he's serious.

"i'll kick you out if you even try."

"then what about you feeding me?"

"are you excited for the first road trip of the year?" you change the subject.

"i am," he says slowly. "not much to see there, though, so it'll be a boring trip. especially if you're not coming..."

"can't," you remind him. "the big man won't allow it."

"but let's say, i don't know, a player on the team had an extra ticket to the game...then what?"

"huh?" you look at him confused. "what are you saying?"

"if i told you i got you a ticket to the game, would you come?" he asks sincerely. he grabs your hand and squeezes, saying, "i need my good luck charm there."

"san, i don't know," you shake your head. "how would i get there? where would i stay?"

"you could travel with the other wives and girlfriends," he answers. "apparently it's a whole big trip, they do this every year for the first away series."

"but i'm not a wife or a girlfriend," you tell him. "i'm a reporter."

"then why don't you leave the notebook at home and just come to the game as my girlfriend?"

"your girlfriend?" you smile. "i think i can do that."

#san #choi san #ateez #choi san fic #choi san smut #choi san fluff #choi san imagine #choi san one shot #san fic #san x reader #ateez x reader #san smut #san imagine #san one shot #ateez smut #san fluff #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez one shot

794 notes · View notes

yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 29 days

Text

Mentions of being drunk.

Thinking about baby daddy!Miguel O’Hara who showed up at your work in the morning with your bagel and coffee like he did every time when you had Gabriella for the week. Knowing how you hadn’t eaten anything, waving off your concern about him going out of his way to bring it to you.

Baby daddy!Miguel who, despite knowing he will probably be late to work due to traffic this morning being abysmal, he still lingered around your work desk after dropping off your food. Not-so subtly hinting about talking about what happened during the weekend. Shooting him a glare to shush because you know how nosy your coworkers can be.

Baby daddy!Miguel who finally leaves for work, but not before you agree to discuss the unignorable conversation, later on of course, away from the ears of your coworkers and definitely not around the nosy girl that was your daughter.

—

Once the elevator doors closed behind him, you haven’t even gotten a chance to blink, let alone gather your bearings before your coworkers started up.

“Who was thaaaat?”

“Her ex-husband.”

“No, they never got married, remember? That’s her baby daddy.”

“Giiiirl, a man like him? One can dream.”

“I know right? Those muscles put my husband to shame, and he’s a firefighter. Why does a scientist need to be that jacked anyways.”

“Okay are you guys done ogling at my ex?” You finally spoke up, irrational so apparent that it made the other three girls quiet down almost immediately. You couldn’t help but feel your chest burning a bit as you took a bite of your bagel.

—

Baby mommy!Reader who finally got to clock out after a long day of work. One foot already out the door once the clock struck 5pm so she could go pick up Gabriella from after school soccer practice.

Baby mommy!Reader who listened to her daughter rambling about her day at school and practice, telling her all the juicy middle school gossip she learned on her first day while the two sat in the afternoon traffic.

Baby mommy!Reader who felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up when she turned the corner into her hallway and saw her ex sitting in front of her front door. Clearly not sober.

No, not Miguel, the other ex.

Baby mommy!Reader who hurriedly guided her daughter back towards where she came off the elevator, thankfully he didn’t see either of them turn the corner. Ignoring Gabi’s voice questioning why she turned away once she saw Henry, rather than walk up to him and greet him with a hug and a peck on the lips like Gabi had grown used to.

Baby mommy!Reader who assured her little girl that she’ll explain later. Before pulling out her phone, and opening up the messages app.

—

Miguel. -You

?? -Miguel

can you do me a favor? -You

What’s the favor? -Miguel

Henry is camping outside of my front door and me and Gabriella can’t go inside without facing him. He looks drunk. -You

I’ll be there in 20, stay in the lobby. -Miguel

—

Ten minutes later, Miguel came marching through the front door of the apartment building. Letting his scowl fade away so as to not let his daughter catch it. She didn’t need to know what he was about to do to Henry.

“Hey honey,” he scooped down to give Gabriella a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, before standing up straight to look at you. Pulling you into a hug as well so he can whisper his next words. “He didn’t touch either of you, did he?” You quickly shook your head no.

“Didn’t even see us.” You whispered back.

“Good.” He finally let his arm leave the small of your back, leaving the cold air to hit your back once more. “ Gabriella, you and mom are gonna go down to that nail salon down the street, and get some manicures and pedicures. We’ll explain everything when you get back.” He explained calmly, too calmly, as he reached for his wallet and pulled out a few twentys from it, handing it to you. You didn’t even get a chance to protest the action because he started to gently push you both back out of the complex building.

Now I can deal with this stupid rat once and for all.

—

Part 7<

Not proofread.

Word count: 700

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!!

Taglist: : @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @reader-1290 @laysmt @migueloharasoulmate @fruityfucker @pigeonmama @scaryplanetdestroyer @migueloharastruelove @krentkova19 @genny1019 @maiyart @stressed-cherry @scaleniusrm @ginnysculture @mishaglass @wusyanmee @bunnibitez @miguelzslvtz @dahehow @sinners-98-world @othersideoftheparadise @toyfortoji @yeshajane @yvesbi @hanjisgf @deljojeisbackagain @safixiovi @emmalandry @maxinemus3 @lauraolar14 @aaaaslaaaan @kenz-ee @esmedelacroix @whattheshock @syler-griffin @comeonatmebruh @xwonderlandresidentx @m4dyy @the-pan-liquid @lilbrababe99 @jxstanemo @badbitchhour @freehentai @sillysillygoofygoose @nj452896 @jadeloverxd @faretheeoscar @ce3stvu @scorpihoooe @blossomofbismuths @nxxav3rs3 @ilovespiderverseeee @ghost-lantern @saaaaaaaaaaaamiiiiiiiiiiiira @lavenderslemonade @rinnako @reirain @nommingonfood @miguelsfavwife

802 notes · View notes

makelemonade · 22 days

Text

how people find out you’re dating them

pt2; cyno, diluc, thoma, neuvillette

SUGGESTIVE

Cyno

He probably keeps it a secret for 2 weeks until Candace, Alhaitham and Tighnari sniff it out- literally. But in the end it’s not them who find out it’s you.

His jokes change.

Like, insanely.

There’s no more horrible puns- well, there are sometimes, but his humour starts to change to multiple different types of jokes and Candace is the first to notice.

She has been at his side for YEARS protecting the desert so when she actually laughs at his joke for the first time her heart literally drops from shock because did she actually just laugh!!?!?! At CYNO’S JOKE?!

She brings it up with Alhaitham and Tighnari and even they are surprised and of course because they’re nosy people, they decide to figure it out.

Alhaitham keeps an eye on Cyno whenever he’s in the Akademiya for work. He noticed the way Cyno is always in a rush which before he never was. It’s almost like Cyno has something to do, he thinks.

That’s when he realizes and brings up the idea to them that what if cyno is seeing someone? Tighnari feels a little betrayed knowing they are best friends and that cyno tells him everything but he does slightly agree with the theory.

He agrees with the theory once he smells expensive products on cyno. Cyno used to never once care about his hair or how nice he smelled given the fact he’s in the desert a lot but he smells a lotion on him one day and realizes that 100% Cyno is seeing someone.

They just have no idea who.

One day they’re talking about it in Alhaitham’s office within the Akademiya, and Nahida comes in one day.

“What are you all talking about?” She asks innocently, eyes peering up at all of them as she hops on Alhaitham’s desk to sit on.

“We think cyno is seeing someone.” Alhaitham answered.

Her eyes lit up. “Oh right! Y/N!”

“We don’t kno- wait what?” Candace stares at her shocked.

Nahida just giggled. “He dreams about her a lot.”

They all immediately run out of the office and nahida starts to think maybe she shouldn’t have revealed that.

Diluc

kaeya.

For months now people have noticed that Diluc was taking less time at the bar and was always rushing to get home. He was more talkative and he was even fighting less with Kaeya.

It creeped Kaeya out if we’re being honest here.

So one night you’re hanging out with Kaeya and Venti at the bar while Diluc is working and it’s a pleasant night for you all!

Venti was singing, strumming the lyre! Kaeya was making jokes and Diluc was laughing at them! It was- wait what?

Kaeya doesn’t realize until later that night that Diluc laughed at one of his jokes.

At the end of the night you tell the others you’re going to stay and help Diluc clean up since Charles was off for the night and they pay no attention to it. Kaeya doesn’t either- the only thing he wants is answers.

So one hour after closing, Kaeya bursts into the bar thinking you’d finished helping up Diluc and you were already gone.

But instead he found you bent over the bar, skirt PUSHED up and Diluc right behind you and Kaeya immediately turns back around, knowing his question was already answered.

Of course he immediately tells venti, but not what he saw. He does not want anyone knowing he ever witnessed that even if it was for 0.5 seconds.

Thoma

He starts to deny his help whenever people in the city ask him for something and it’s so shocking that it reaches Ayato through gossip and he HAS to talk to Ayaka about it.

Thoma is an incredible and amazing man; he’s always willing to help out anyone and everyone at every second so of course it’s a shock when he starts denying and is rushing home.

“Is something wrong with him? Is he upset? Is he sick?!” Ayaka has never seen Ayato panic like this about his best friend.

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Ayaka giggled. “Maybe he’s just realized that his kindness is taken much advantage of. Personally I think it’s great.”

“Or he has someone to return home to every night.”

Both the siblings yelped and their swords were out in an instant, pointing at whoever snuck into their conversation.

Miko was unphased, putting both her hands on the swords and lowering them. “Apologies, it wasn’t my intention to sneak up but it was surely my intention to eavesdrop.” She grinned.

The weapons were away in an instant and Ayaka started to question. “What do you mean someone to come home to?”

“Have you not noticed his need to rush his duties everyday?” Miko asked, and giggled when both the siblings looked at each other with a “no I have not” face. “Wow; I hardly ever see him and even I know of his current actions! Well, if you two are really so keen on trying to figure out what’s ‘wrong’ with him; he has a lover. A secret one, at that, and it seems as if he just really wants to spend the night with them after a long day of work. I’d assume his lover is Y/N, the one who works for me. You have noticed his frequent trips to the shrine, haven’t you?”

The two siblings just stared at each other in shock before they were both running off in different directions; Ayato to find out any information on who you were and Ayaka running to find Thoma to demand answers.

In truth, Miko just saw the two of you kissing on your break in a hidden spot and you both still had no idea she had seen.

Neuvillette

THOSE DAMN MELUSINES.

They’re adorable; the cutest little things ever and it’s so cute how he takes care of them but you can never trust them with a secret because they will pass it on to EVERYONE.

It’s when they do their usual rotations within the buildings; Guard the doors.

In full honesty it was yours and his fault for being, well, quite loud that even though his desk was far from the doors, the Melusine’s could still hear everything and it was insanely embarrassing but they were immediately talking about it and were shocked when you walked out of his office 2 hours later, pretending it was some random meeting.

The next day, one of them- Sigewinne- comes up to him in his office and he gives her a gentle smile. “Good morning, Monsieur Neuvillette!”

“Good morning, Sigewinne. Would you like anything?” He opened one of his drawers which was full of mélusine-appropriate snacks.

Sigewinne shook her head. “No thank you, Monsieur Neuvillette! Thank you for offering! We were wondering if Mademoiselle Y/N was coming today?”

He looked at them confused. “Uhm, I believe she is for another meeting in a few hours. Why?”

“Just so then we’ll know when to give you two privacy, Monsieur Neuvillette!” Sigewinne skips away and it takes a few seconds for him to fully process what she meant and becomes mortified.

You’re insanely confused when all the melusines greet you and say hi to you and ask if you want anything when you come in.

#cyno x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc x y/n #neuvillette x reader #thoma x you #thoma x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you

905 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

alphafeetdom

Alpha Feet

googovic

vic

smlgbtqweek

Sailor Moon LGBTQ+ Week 2024

butter-sauce

vejuhadudo

Untitled