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#literally completed the fic ending and all and then went back
worstloki · 2 years
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Ooh, Crying Over Constellations for the fic ask? 👀
Well since that one has a wholesome version and a dark version and the dark one is the newer one, I'll go with that. There's a reason I have decided to leave this fic to sit for a while XD
-> Loki has no interest in sex, and Tess knows this but does expect it eventually, despite assuring Loki on the matter. He’s big on consent though so waits. In this fic Tess can sense Loki's seidr, which is like a dead giveaway to how Loki feels at any given time. If Loki's happy it's vibrant, if he's afraid it recoils, and so on. Tess keeps prodding at boundaries of what he's comfortable with and justifying that Loki is lying when he says he hates/dislikes things by coming up with his own seidr explanations for why he secretly doesn't. Loki doesn't know that there is a thing his seidr does! What it does separate to himself, as much as it's a mirror, and he can't even see it normally! So he doesn't know Tess knew every single time he did something that made him twitchy! He assumes it's a harmless accident and Tess couldn't have known better! Every single time! Tess is a friend, more than that even, and wouldn't take advantage of him or try to cause harm on purpose. That's ridiculous. Thor's words on the subject must be getting to him to make him think such a thing.
-> The Moment in this one comes when this is all revealed - with Tess accusing that if he hated it all so much/if what he claims his thoughts are were true that he'd be hurting through it. He would be hurting right now. Loki realizes what's been going on.
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reiderwriter · 7 months
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Happily Ever After
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Summary: You have a big fat crush on Spencer Reid. And now you have to share his clothes, his hotel room and his bed for one special night.
Warnings: Day 31 of Kinktober - The End, vanilla sex, love confessions, p in v, pretty softcore compared to the other stuff. Fluff.
A/N: We did it! It's literally halfway to December, but I finally finished all of the kinktober fics! Thank you, everyone, for coning with me on this amazing journey. Thank you for all your support for thesr 31 fics, I literally wouldn't have done it without you 💖
It was hard being hopelessly in love with your coworker. This was a fact that you'd learnt upon entering the BAU and meeting Doctor Spencer Reid. 
You'd never believed in love at first sight  and to be truthful, you were still a sceptic, but there was something about him that had you leaning in, eyes sparkling as you hung on his every word. 
If you were asked what exactly it was about him that you liked so much, you'd probably tie your tongue up trying to answer. 
Maybe it was his intelligence. Maybe it was the complete obliviousness that went along with it. 
It could have been the way he made sure to check in on you regularly, made sure you were managing the transition to the BAU well, and let you know that he'd be there to support you. 
It was probably also because of how goddamn attractive he was. You swore that he was walking around like the female lead in a 00s rom com - he just didn't know how hot he was. In fact, he was so oblivious that he still didn't reconcile the fact that ‘Pretty Boy’ was less an insulting nickname and more the cold, hard truth. 
You'd accidentally reminded him of that fact about a month into being deliriously into him. 
“Pretty Boy…? Hey, Spencer? Doctor Reid? Nothing…” Morgan sat on the edge of your desk as he called over to the man just opposite him, sitting completely still bar his hand that was racing across a page as he read furiously. 
“He's busy, Morgan. I'm sure if you just call his name Louder, he'll answer.” You sighed. Watching the two men quibble had become an interesting pastime, to say the least. 
“Spencer, the office is on fire. Spencer, Hotchner, is naked in his office right now. Spencer, Rossi is naked in his office right now. Spencer, Y/N is-” 
“Okay, that's enough,” you said, standing up from your desk and clearing your throat. You thought you'd just stand up and get Spencer’s attention the same way Derek had, projecting your voice just a little bit more.
“Pretty Boy.” As soon as the words fell from your lips, the man in question bolted upright, hitting his knee on the desk as he rose, locking eyes with you. 
“Yes, Y/N?” Almost as soon as he was upright, Morgan was in fits on the floor, partly from the reaction, partly from Spencer's self injury. When he turned back to you and noticed your red face, the laughing fit only doubled. 
Spencer joined you in perpetual embarrassment as Morgan slipped off, still laughing  but seemingly no longer interested in whatever it was he wanted Spencer for in the first place. 
“Y/N, did you need something?” He asked, clearing his throat as he sat down once again. 
“No! No, actually, Morgan… it doesn't matter.” You smiled politely and sat back down, quickly pulling some paperwork together to make yourself look busy. 
“Usually only Morgan calls me pretty boy.” He murmured from the other side of the desk  
“That's because it's the truth.” 
“What?” His eyes locked with yours as you suddenly realised he'd been talking to himself, not engaging you in further conversation. 
“I… well, I mean, he wouldn't say it if you weren't actually pretty, Spencer.” He looked at you for a second, then relaxed, smiling softly as he continued his reading. 
You could've sworn you heard a tiny thank you under his breath  but you just continued your work and tried to calm your heart rate down. 
After that, you made it your mission to out an arm's length between yourself and Spencer Reid. You were polite about it, of course, but you felt an awful lot like a teenager with a crush. Or maybe a pre-teen with a crush. Sometimes, to be honest, you were probably acting like a complete child. 
Fate, or Aaron Hotchner, had other plans for you, though. 
“If you can't make it, that's okay, but it's regulation to send two agents because of some prior interviews that have turned particularly violent.” He explained after he called you into his office. 
“JJ has Henry to take care of, same for Kate and her niece. Morgan has a trial tomorrow, so he's unavailable as well, so I really only have you and Reid to ask. Can you do it?” 
You weren't sure if it was some need to please the man in front of you as if you were his child who had scored badly on a pop quiz, or his perpetual state of exhaustion that had you giving in and nodding to the man, agreeing to five hours in a car with Spencer. But you did. 
The ride wasn't all that bad, to be honest. In typical Spencer fashion, he'd bought along a few audiobooks to listen to, so most of the time was filled with The Faerie Queene and the sleep that you'd fallen into after listening to The Faerie Queene. 
You couldn't fully escape conversation, though, and in between changing tapes, he started asking questions. 
“How are you liking the unit?" He asked casually, his eyes on the road as you turned to stare at him. 
“It's been good. The only downside is all of those field work fitness tests, though.” 
“Be glad that you had to do those before you joined us. Morgan decided to be helpful and train me and Penelope.” 
“That doesn't sound too bad,” you laughed at him as an honest frown coated his face.
“Have you seen the guy? He's like a walking weightlifting advertisement, I think he could bench press me. And it turned out that we didn't even need the training anyway.” 
“Wow, and you fell for it? I thought you were a super genius, Doctor Reid.” 
“Hey, that's discrimination. I can be very stupid, too. I contain multitudes.” You laughed and relaxed into the seat some more, memorising each detail of his face as you looked at him. There was a small awkward pause as he waited for you to say something else. Just as he made to turn and look at you, you straightened again and looked away before he could catch you. 
“I'd love to see those multitudes some day.” 
“I'd love to show you them.” 
After that, you'd sat silently in the passenger seat, staring out of the window so he couldn't see the effect his words had on you. 
You were thankful that the actual interview finished shortly, the death row inmate becoming rather chatty in his final days and gracious in the details he was willing to give out. The prison still put you on edge, though, so you were glad to have your gun back on your hip and fresh air in your lungs as you moved towards the car. 
You were just waiting for Spencer to get off the phone so you could get back on the road and into your comfy bed. 
“That was Hotch,” Spencer said, walking over. “We've got a case. We're closer than they are, so they want us to drive there and stay in the hotel for the night, and they'll see us tomorrow.” He smiled in sympathy as he watched your face fall. 
The stuttering of your heart was so loud that you almost couldn't hear his words. Surely, that didn't mean you had to spend the night with Spencer Reid? You didn't know if you'd actually survive that. 
“I-I don't have my overnight bag.” You said. 
“Hotch said JJ is picking it up. She'll pass it to you tomorrow.” 
“But it's winter, what am I going to wear tonight?” You practically whispered the words as your brain finished functioning once again. 
“I have something you can change into. Of that's okay with you, of course!” You didn't trust yourself to talk, so you just nodded at the man and climbed into the car, ready for him to take you to your home for the night. 
Fate didn't stop there, though. 
“There's been some kind of mistake,” you heard Spencer mumble as you walked up to the front desk behind him. You'd been sat on a sofa in the foyer waiting for him to return with your key and his when you realised he'd been taking too long. 
“What's the problem?” You asked as he turned around to look at you, running his hands through his hair in frustration. 
“They only booked one room.” 
“Sir, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to take up the issue with your company. But there's only one room here in your name, and we're otherwise fully booked for the night. We had two weddings and an academic gathering this weekend. Guests are still trickling in and out.” 
“Okay, what about my name? Can you see if there's anything under Y/L/N?” 
“I already tried that. They have Hotchner down, but only from tomorrow.” His jaw tensed again as he turned to you. If you knew him better, you'd probably be able to recognise his nervousness. God, how you wished you knew him better. 
“It's one night?” You nodded and took the keys from the receptionist as you and Spencer walked towards the room you'd be sharing for the evening.
“Derek says I talk in my sleep, but that claim has never been substantiated with any real evidence. Also I prefer to sleep on the bed nearest to the window, is that okay?” Spencer rambled slightly awkwardly as you approached your new hotel room. 
You smiled at him and flexed your hand slightly, trying to reach out to comfort him but holding yourself back from the casual physical contact. 
“It's okay,” you said, grabbing the key card. “Let's go in.” 
If that day had taught you anything, it was to expect something else to go wrong. 
The room was wonderful, with a large window, a competent bathroom, surprisingly spacious for the usual FBI budget. There was, of course, only one bed.
“I'll take the sofa. It's right next to the window anyway.” 
“Spencer it's not a pull-out. You're never going to get any sleep on that thing.” You stood your ground, dumping Spencer’s bag and your own small purse on the sofa so he couldn't take up permanent residence there. 
You weren't sure why you were fighting so hard to get him in the same bed as you, knowing what effect it would have on you, but you didn't care to think about that right this second. 
“Okay, let's just get ready to sleep, and we can talk about it again.” He said, digging you out an old pair of sweatpants and a caltech jumper and gesturing for you to use the bathroom first. 
You quickly showered up and changed into the warm clothes. It was strange to be able to feel how much bigger than you he was since you'd never really considered it. 
Spencer was tall, but you weren't exactly petites, and yet here you were, getting swamped by his college sweatshirt. And you knew for a fact that he'd been practically a child still when he'd last graduated. 
“All yours, Spencer,” you said, walking from the bathroom and over to the bed where you'd left your phone on charge. 
He didn't say anything, but you noticed he'd stayed stuck to the spot and sat at the opposite end of the sofa reading a book. 
“Spencer? Did you hear me?” That seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in, and he finally diverted his eyes away from you. 
“No pretty boy this time?” He pouted under his breath, but you laughed all the same, watching him grab similar garments from his bag again and travel to the bathroom.
You must've drifted off slightly between him going in and coming out, because when you woke, there he was again on the sofa. 
“Spencer? What are you doing? Get into bed.” You blinked your eyes a few times, rubbing away the sleep in them as you sat up. Spencer had sat up on the sofa, reading his book again, his hair still slightly damp from the shower. 
“I said I'm fine here, Y/N. I don't want to make you uncomfortable.” Sighing, you pushed yourself out of bed and walked around it to where Spencer was. 
“Spencer, you're like 6’4. This sofa couldn't even sleep a five year old comfortably, let alone all of you.” You slipped the book from his hand, shutting it and placing it on the side table. 
“I'm assuming you don't need a bookmark?” When he shook his head with a resigned sigh, you grabbed his hand and pulled him up. 
“Y/N, are you sure?” 
“Spencer, you already gave up your clothes for me, I'm not letting you give up the bed, too.” 
“It's okay, I enjoyed giving up the clothes.” You couldn't really help the nervous goggle that slipped from your mouth at that statement. 
“Sorry, I just meant I'd-” 
“I know what you meant, Spencer. Let's just go to sleep now.” Grabbing his hand once again, you turned the main lights off, lamps lighting your way to the bed. 
Turning Spencer around, you gently shoved him onto the bed. Though, expecting him to let go of your hand, you'd planned that only he would land there. 
Instead, he doubled down on his grasp of your hand, and you fell with him, landing directly on top of him on the bed, mouths inches from each other. 
You paused there for a few moments, not sure what move was the right one to make. His hips shifted upward slightly, but that was all the movement you needed for you to settle over his crotch rather than his legs. 
“I'm sorry,” you whispered breathlessly as you felt every inch of him harden underneath you. 
“I'm not,” he said, eyes searching your face for god knows what. 
When he found it, though, he didn't hold back. His free hand slid up to the back of your head, slamming it down so your lips could lock together, a passionate joining that rid you of all the oxygen in your body. 
“Spencer,” you gasped between kisses as he worked his hand lower, both hands free to wrap tightly around your waist as he continued kissing you with a passion. 
“So beautiful,” he whispered as he finally pulled away again, holding you as close as he could before capturing your lips one more time.
Your head swam through the sensations blindly, both confused and considerably fused to him at the same time.
Spencer's lips, Spencer's hands, Spencer's everything pressed up against you as you sighed contentedly at his ministrations.
“Spencer… what are we doing?” 
“I don't know. I don't want to stop, though.” His lips matched yours furiously as he pushed his sweater off your body, whining slightly when he had to break contact to get it over your head.
His hands were instantly exploring your chest, grasping your body like it was his lifeline, as your hips rocked against his own. 
You knew you needed to stop this, and soon. Your body didn't agree. If you had sex with Spencer Reid right now, you knew there was no way in hell any other man would ever match up. 
“Spencer, stop.” 
To his credit, he did, hands dropping instantly as he created space between the two of you. Or as much as you'd allow, still sitting on top of him. 
“I'm sorry, I took advantage, I shouldn't have kissed you like th-” 
“I love you.” You blurted out, so desperate for him to shut up and listen to you. Which  again, to his credit, he did. 
“What?” He whispered, stars shining in his eyes.
“I told you to stop because I love you. If you don't feel the same way, that's okay, but I don't think I can do this if you don't.”
“You love me?” 
“Yes, I just said that. Aren't you supposed to have an eidetic memory?” 
“Individuals with eidetic memories often struggle with short-term memories, hanging onto older memories more vividly and recalling them faster.”
“So you want me to say it again?” 
“Over and over, preferably.” He said with a grin, flipping you over so your back was on the bed as he hovered over you. 
“I love you,” you whispered as he kissed your cheek. 
“Again.”
“I love you,” you whispered as he kissed your neck. 
“One more time,” he whispered, stroking your hair as he finally looked into your eyes. 
“I love you,” you whispered as he kissed your lips once again, holding nothing back as he poured all his joy into you. 
“I love you, too.” 
Your legs tangled together in a blur after that, both hopelessly breathing each other's oxygen. You were giggles and moans, whimpers, and confessions as you found yourself pushing down the covers and your pants so you could slide into bed. 
Neither of you stopped your confessions, still professing your love in each scrape of a nail, each lick, each bite. 
When he finally entered you, your eyes rolled back in pleasure, drunk on him and every reaction he was giving you. 
“I love you, Y/N,” he moaned. “I love how you feel wrapped around me.” His hips snapped softly into you, but he went deep, pushing in the entire way before even letting himself think of drawing himself out of that beautiful heat. 
“I love how reactive you are for me. I love seeing each of your emotions cross your face. I love how you called me pretty. I love how intelligent you are. I love you.” You were overcome with emotions as you finally felt pleasure wash over you, tingling through your body in ripples as he grunted into your ear, close as well. 
Wrapping your legs around him, you nuzzled into his neck and held him tight as he finally finished inside of you. 
You fell asleep like that in each others arms, clinging to each other for dear life. 
When you woke the next morning, it was with a start as you realised the sun was already awake. 
Spencer, however, wasn't, and you jolted up in a panic as you rolled him off of you. 
“Spencer, wake up, the others are going to be here any minute, it's 8:45.” 
“No, they're not,” he said, pulling you right back into his chest. 
“You said yesterday that they're coming today ready for the new case.”
“They started driving at 7am. Driving is going to take them 5 hours 34 minutes, give or take half an hour if there's an accident on the roads. We have plenty of time.”
You relaxed slightly into his hold, then feeling his warmth against you as he stirred slightly again. 
“Of course, we could always do something else to pass the time.” You opened one eye and turned back to face him as his hand traced down to the parting of your legs.
“Nice try, lover boy. If you're awake enough for that, you're awake enough to get started on the case.” 
“I preferred pretty boy,” he groaned but rolled away from you, as you both started getting ready for the day. 
Within half an hour, the two of you were up and ready to answer an incoming video call from Penelope Garcia. 
“Hello beautiful, how is upstate treating you?” She said as you picked up and beamed at her, somehow unable to control the happiness rolling off of you.
“It's been good,” you practically giggled, wiping a hand across your face as you attempted to clear away the grin there.
Spencer approached the laptop screen, too, greeting Penelope with a small squint as he looked down. 
“Hey, Penelope. Do you have the case details for us?” 
“I sent through the files to your emails, Hotch has a paper copy for you too, Reid, when he gets there. We've got a copycat or a resurfaced killer from the 80s. Rossi says the details are familiar to him, but he was going to ask you when he found you.” You both nodded and thanked her, but still, she didn't hang up. 
“So, one hotel room, how was that?” Penelope asked from the other side of the screen, eyes dancing between the both of you. 
“How did you…?” You squinted as Spencer hurriedly closed the laptop to the sounds of her laughing victoriously. Spencer's face flushed again as he brushed his hair out of his face, trying to discuss the files with you as he changed the topic almost expertly. 
“Stop. Spencer, how did she know about the hotel room?”
“Penelope books most of our hotel rooms.”
“Spencer, what aren't you telling me?” He shifted uncomfortably and looked at you in the eyes. 
“I may have asked her to book only one room.” 
“What? But the receptionist said-” 
“I slipped her a twenty before you came up.” 
“Why?” 
“I wanted to be closer to you. When Hotch said he had this interview, and he said he was sending you too, I was so excited to spend time with you, because you've been avoiding me, and I wanted to know what I did wrong so I could make it better, but I guess I didn't do anything wrong because you love me somehow, so I must have done something very very right to deserve that.” He was rambling, but you didn't stop him, smile spreading as you listened to his accidental declarations of love. 
“And then I had to beg Hotch to take this case next, because then we'd have an excuse to be alone longer if we were so close.” 
You tried to catch his attention then by calling his name, but he didn't listen, too intent on his confession. 
“I was going to tell you later today, once we were off work, I didn't want to say something in the middle of the case because that would've been unprofessional  and honestly I didn't want the others to hear because I want you all to myself.”
“I'm rambling, aren't I?” 
“Yes, God  just shut up and kiss me.” 
“You're not mad?” 
“I might have been if I weren't so damn in love with you. But lucky for you, I'm crazy for you.” He smiled at you again, pulling you in close for one more kiss. 
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endlessthxxghts · 9 months
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What You Need
no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈6.3k
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Summary: You come home from a horribly stressful day at University to everything in your family home a complete mess only for you to take care of. Joel helps you and gives you exactly what you need.
Warnings: SUUUPER self indulgent (sorry guys - it makes for a good plot tho, so i’m not all that sorry <3). no use of “y/n”, age gap (22/42), LATINO JOEL MILLER (idc what anyone says, he needs a warning), established relationship, no physical descriptions of reader, pet names (darlin’, sweet girl, pretty girl, princess, etc.), reader “takes care of everyone but who takes care of her” plot, more porn than plot lol, [SMUT 18+ MDNI] daddy kink, sir kink, heavy on the D/s dynamic (reader falls into subspace), cockwarming, unprotected piv (don’t be like these 2 idiots), breeding kink, cum eating, creampie, finger fucking, finger sucking (briefly), choking, hair pulling, brief thoughts about anal, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, hickeys/marking kink, squirting!, toy use, fluffy ending… i think that’s it?? (dear lord pls forgive me, for i have sinned)  if i missed anything, lmk pls!
Quick lil author’s note (see bottom for extended a/n): In all honesty, I wanna dedicate this (nasty) little one shot to @javierpena-inatacvest because if it wasn’t for our interactions as of late plus reading your “It’s Never Too Late” fic, I never would’ve said fuck it and just start writing with the intention of potentially showing it to the world. Thank you for inspiring me. You’re amazing & I literally love u so so much. You deserve phenomenal head all the love in the world for everything you do <3.
MAIN MASTERLIST || ONESHOT COLLECTION
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It was a long day at university today, as per usual, but something about today completely drained you. 
You went to bed past midnight last night because you were busy finishing up a paper, only to get up at 7am the next morning to spend the next 13 hours juggling between classes, assignments, and studying in your “free” time. By the time you were ready to head back home, you were on your very last thread, begging to snap. You also completely spaced on nourishing your body today, the only thing running through it being water and coffee — lots of coffee. 
That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that the minute you entered your family home, the entire house was an absolute mess, your pets weren’t given their food yet, and no dinner was made. And just like every other day since you grew into an acceptable height to reach the kitchen stove, you took care of it. All of it. 
You were so grateful to your family for allowing you to stay at home during your undergraduate years. It makes your in-state tuition even cheaper, and you get the comfort of your own bed. You knew not many people could rely on their parents and family like this, so you don’t want to sound selfish when you think about how you really wish you had your own place right about now. 
It’s been an hour and a half since you've been home, and you’re barely finishing up getting the food for your dogs when your phone dings in your back pocket. 
Didn’t text me when you got home, baby. Everything okay?
It was from Joel. The neighbor directly across from you, and a quickly growing family friend of yours. Your heart both saddens at the fact that you forgot your unspoken ritual, but it swells at the way he can read you. 
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It all began at a small family party last year. You were 21 at the time, and for some reason you could not take your eyes off of your neighbor — who was 20 years your senior. It was always just shared glances or you bringing baked goods from your stress-baking endeavors, but at that party, there was a good period of time where your entire family went outside to the bonfire in the backyard to drink until their hearts gave out, leaving you with the dishes and a trashed house to clean. Joel noticed this, how much they relied on you. Whether it was coming over for a beer with your brothers or your father, or to fix an appliance for your older sister, they always walked all over you — when you did absolutely everything for them. So, he took matters into his own hands and went inside to help you clean up. 
You insisted he didn’t need to, but you knew he wouldn’t let up. So, there, you two worked, harmoniously, straightening up your home in half the time it would normally take you by yourself. The second you completed the last task, you reached for the remote and plopped yourself on the couch, half expecting Joel to go back outside with your family. Except, he plopped himself on the couch right next to you with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen, “What are we watchin’, darlin’?” 
“You know you could’ve stayed outside with everyone else, Miller,” you say as you turn your body to him with an eyebrow quirked up. He matches your expression, “Well, where’s the fun in that?” 
You break into a breathy little giggle, satisfied with his comeback, and you turn on the TV. With your family completely occupied outside, it was easy for either of you to make a move. And although Joel had been planning to for the last few months before this party, you took matters into your own hands and lifted his arm closest to you, tucked yourself into his side and pulled his arm back around your body. He looked down at you, smirking at your boldness while your eyes remained fixed on the movie before you. 
The next few hours of the night were filled with secret caresses and stolen kisses, and you have never felt more loved and appreciated in your life. From then on, you’ve been absolutely smitten with him, and he with you. 
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Instead of replying, you dial him instead. Not even a third ring goes by before he answers, “Baby.” 
“Oh my god, hi, baby, I’m so sorry. I completely spaced. The minute I got home, the house was a mess, the dogs weren’t fed yet, dinner wasn’t even cooked, and I-”
“Mi amor,” he says with a deep breath, implicitly telling you to take one, “it’s okay, baby. I don’t wanna hear sorry from you. I’m sorry everythin’ is a mess, baby. Can I help? Need me to come over?”
Your rapid heart rate immediately starts to slow at how calming, ready and willing he is to give you anything you need. Your family would go absolutely insane if Joel just showed up right now with the sole intention of helping you take care of the home and yourself, but you don’t mention that. “No, baby, I promise I’m okay. I just need to relax. I need-” you pause for a moment to take another breath because you feel your body going panicky again. “I need…honestly, I just need you.” 
After the shitty day you’ve had today, having to take control of every single thing, honestly all you really want, and need, right now is for your control to be taken away. You don’t want to think, you don’t want to decide, and you don’t even want to figure out your dinner even though you haven’t eaten all day. 
He pauses for a moment, hearing the slight whine at your last statement. And just like that, Joel is at your rescue. “You need me, huh, babygirl?” 
“Mhm, please.” 
“Cross the street, darlin’, right now,” and he hangs up the phone. 
You bolt out of your seat, and sprint straight to the front door, quickly locking it. You think to say something on the Ring camera, letting your family know you’ll be back, but you know they won’t even think twice at your absence. You already cleaned the house and took care of the animals they begged for but don’t care for — why else would they look for you? 
Just in case they do check the cameras, however, you immediately veer to the left side of your driveway into the blind spots of your front door. 
Within seconds, you’re at his door about to knock, but he’s already opening the door, whispering a soft hi followed by your name, and pulling you into a tight embrace. He pulls you away for a second, assessing your face, assessing your needs. He sees your brows pulled together, eyes glossed over, and a pout beginning to form. You don’t need soft and comforting. You need stern, dominating control. You need nothing but pure bliss, and he’s going to give that to you. But first: 
“Safe words. Repeat em’.” 
“Red for hard stop, yellow if I’m starting to get uncomfortable, and green to keep going.” 
“That’s my girl,” he says and finally pulls you in for that rough, all-consuming kiss you’ve been craving. It’s a battle of teeth and tongue, and obviously he wins. His hands are roughly sliding down to the underside of your asscheeks, tightly pulling you into his hardening bulge. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, but pause for a moment because he never gave you permission to. He senses that, and pulls back for just a moment. “Such a good fuckin’ girl for me. Go ‘head, baby, touch me.” 
You immediately bring your arms back up to grab ahold of him but too riled up in how he’s making you feel, you don’t notice the huge grumble your empty tummy makes. He pulls both your wrists back from his neck and puts an insufferable amount of space between you two. 
He says your name, filled with both concern and slight anger. “When was the last time you ate?” 
Silence. 
He lets go of your wrist and grabs your chin between his pointer and thumb, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m not askin’ again, baby.”
“Y-yesterday night,” you stumble out. 
“I’m not givin’ you a heavy meal ‘cause that’ll just upset your stomach, but I am fixin’ you somethin’. Go upstairs, change into the clothes on the bed, come back down and position yourself on the ottoman, like I taught ya last week, hm?”
Too enamored by his roughly smooth voice, all you can muster up is a nod. His eyebrow barely shifts, but that’s all a warning you need. “Yes, sir.” 
Padding up into his room, already feeling your insides start to float, you reach the edge of his bed to see a pair of black cheeky boxers, and a thin, fitted black tee. You quickly strip off everything you arrived here in and slip on the garments he gave you. Wasting no time, you head back down in a bee line to the ottoman. 
Like I taught ya last week, hm?
His words echo in your mind as you begin to recall last week’s endeavors. 
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You were straddling his lap for a while now, slowly swallowing each other’s moans and making every part of each other’s body ingrained into your memories. Until suddenly he pulls back, eyes dead set with intention. “You trust me, baby?”
“Always, Joel,” you say back with as stern a voice as possible, confused as to why he’d ask such a thing. “Can I teach you somethin’, then, darlin’?”
You pull him into one more kiss before you breathily tell him yes and pull yourself off his lap to stand before him, fully at his disposal. 
He stands up, and without any verbal indications, he’s grabbing onto you and molding your body onto the ottoman in a position that begins to drift you off into subspace. You don’t know if it’s the fact that you're sitting on your knees with your legs tucked under you, or if it’s the slow drag of his hands caressing your inner thighs, pulling them farther apart from each other. Or maybe it’s the way he softly places your hands, palms up, atop of your thighs. Whatever the hell it is, you absolutely fucking love it. 
He feels you melting into every little touch he makes and he notes every little moment you slip further and further into your space. “Doin’ okay, my sweet girl?” he asks, voice dark and sweet. 
All you can pull out of yourself is a pathetic little whine and a head nod. 
“This is position number one. Remember it. We’ll learn more later, but this’ll do just fine for a while, baby.”
And with that, he kisses you ever so softly but with such a dominating, addictive energy that you feel yourself try to push up into him, and immediately he pulls away. 
“Sweet girl, Imma let it slide this time, but you do not move from this position unless given permission. Ya hear?”
You return to your original position and assure him how good you’ll be, “Won’t happen again, daddy, I promise.”
His jaw clenches at the honorific; that’s your number one tell that signifies you’ve completely submitted and fallen into subspace. He had originally planned on giving you what you asked for two days ago — “Please, Joel, I need you to fuck me, hard.” — but seeing you all docile and ready for him just makes him want to absolutely praise you in the most beautiful ways possible. 
So that’s what he did. For hours. An hour of bending you over the ottoman to eat your pussy like a man who had all the time in the world, an hour of fingering orgasm after orgasm out of you while his mouth switched between licking and marking your tits, and a few hours after that just slowly fucking you into his mattress, caressing and loving on every single part of your body he could reach. 
Let’s just say, your family didn’t see you for the rest of that day or the next, and you did not care one fucking bit. 
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You shuffle onto the ottoman, your form now perfected after secretly practicing each night to increase your endurance of staying in such a position for however long Joel needed you to. 
You wait for about five more minutes before he comes back with a platter of all of your favorite fruits — strawberries, mangoes, and pineapple — and sits on the cushioned seat right in front of you. He melts at how good you sit for him, immediately disregarding his original plan and wanting you as close to him as possible. 
“My good, beautiful girl,” he says softly, in a way that you’re not sure if it was even meant for you to hear, but you still melt nonetheless. “Come,” he says as he pats his lap while setting the plate off to the table beside him. 
You shoot up like a lightning bolt, too excited at the thought of being able to feel him again, but before you can climb up, he grabs your hips, stopping you for a second. He slides his fingers into the hem of your underwear and slowly slides them completely off of you, setting them neatly on the ottoman behind you. He slowly reaches for his belt, then slides it off, letting it fall somewhere on the ground. You stand completely still, patiently waiting for whatever he’s going to give you, although your pussy is proving anything but patient. 
He undoes the button and zipper of his jeans and signals for you to come up. “Take me out, cariño.”
You climb up on his thighs, not fully straddling him to give yourself some room to tug his jeans and boxers down enough to pull him free. You pull him free with a small moan escaping your lips, wanting to dart your tongue out and lick his angry tip, but he didn’t give his permission for that. So, you begrudgingly let him go, and wait for what comes next. 
“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he states nonchalantly as if his dick isn’t absolutely begging for you to reach out and grab it. “You’re gonna sit on my cock, keep me nice and warm. Without moving. Only until you’ve eaten all the fruit on this plate will I think about what’s gonna happen next. Got it?”
Your voice trembles, “Y-yes, sir.” 
He nods his head, while bringing his hand up to your mouth, signaling for you to let your drool fall. You scoot closer and lift your hips up while he pumps himself a few times to completely cover himself in your spit. With how much your cunt is dripping, you knew his lewd act was for his benefit and his only. 
The second his tip catches at your entrance, you can’t control the high-pitch whine that falls from your mouth, and he can’t stop himself from gripping your hips with a bruising force in an attempt to keep from mercilessly pounding up into you right here. 
“So f-fucking full,” you breath out as you sink lower and lower, to which he nearly growls with a strained, “So fucking tight.”
You finally bottom out, and you both take a moment to breathe and settle any impulsive thoughts of forgetting the purpose of tonight’s scene. You shift a little to adjust to settle your legs more comfortably at his sides, while he leans over to bring your plate of fruit closer. Both your actions together make you hiss in desperation.
“Color, baby?”
“Green, sir, green,” you promise him.
He smiles, genuine and bright, before his face goes dark and smug again. He picks up a piece of pineapple with his fingers. “Open.”
You lean in and take the sweet fruit from his fingers, making sure to lick any residual of the pineapple’s sweet juices. This goes on until you’ve finished every last piece he cut for you. Towards the last few pieces, your pussy was absolutely drenching his cock with your slick, both your thighs and his soaked. He could feel every pulse and every flutter, and no matter how patient he usually was, something in the air tonight was testing every ounce of his strength. 
He sets the plate aside and licks a mix of fruit juices and your spit clean off his fingers. You watch him, completely entranced by the way his tongue wraps around his thick fingers, and you can’t help but feel such an aching need to throw yourself at him. 
So you do. And to your surprise, he allows it. You pull both his arms to wrap around your middle and you push yourself into him for a searing kiss, whimpering for him to slip you his tongue. He indulges, and you immediately begin grinding your hips down onto his cock. He growls and wraps his arms tighter around you, adding more pressure into your grind, forcing you to break the kiss to regain your breath. “Fuck, baby. Such an impatient little one, aren’t ya?” He rasps out. 
Your hips move faster at his words, trying to will yourself to say something, anything, but you can’t. He notices your effort. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, baby, hm?”
And with that — with the notion that he’ll take care of you with anything you need — you completely fall. “Y- yes,” you moan out, “Da- fuck- daddy’s got me.”
Ah, there she is. Daddy’s girl. His back straightens so he’s towering over you more. He grabs your jaw tightly while you continue to pleasure yourself on his dick, forcing you to hold his stare. “Oh, sweet girl, daddy’s always gonna give ya what ya need. Promise, baby. Now be the good little girl I know you are and cum for me.”
You can feel him meet every movement of your hips, coaxing your high out of you faster than you realize. The wet, squelch your pussy makes every time you suck him in is enough to make him release his load, but he won’t. Not until you’ve came more times than ever before, not until you’re left completely fucked dumb. 
He snakes his hand down to the front, reaching for your clit, using his thumb to make mind-numbing, calculated circles. Your back arches at the sensation, head thrown back, and he brings his other free hand to the back of your neck to pull you closer into him. He ravishes your neck all over, sucking and biting all your weak spots, your pulse points, only to run his tongue over it in soothing motions, getting even more worked up at the marks that’ll form tomorrow. Then, he rips your shirt right in half, letting it fall to the ground. So much for makin’ you change, he thinks. He brings his mouth lower and lower, sucking one of your nipples in between his teeth, throwing you over the edge.
Your vision goes white, your entire body goes rigid, and your pussy uncontrollably flutters around his dick as he peppers your neck and chest with more kisses while you come back down. 
Your body is now soft and pliant, fully ready for whatever more Joel is going to give you. Your head is still high up in the clouds, and it will be for a while, but he always knows how to take care of you. You feel him slowly lift you off his dick and you hear him groan as he looks down. 
“God fucking damn, doll, look at you all over me. Such a fuckin’ mess.”
Your face heats up immediately, “I- I’m sorry, daddy, I-”
He grabs your jaw again and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He pulls away bringing your bottom lip with him until he lets go, letting it fall back into place, now wet with his spit. “Don’t fuckin’ apologize for that. You made daddy so proud, baby. So much so that you’re gonna do it again for me,” he says as he squeezes your ass cheek. 
You squeak out a gasp and a breathy please. He stands up and makes his way to his bedroom with you still wrapped around him like a koala. 
Immediately he throws you on the bed, and before you’re able to scramble up towards the pillows, he’s already pushing you up by the thighs and kneeling between your spread legs. 
He releases one thigh for a quick second and holds his hand out, “Pillow, baby.” It takes your blissed mind one moment to register, but as soon as it does, you don’t waste a second, grabbing the pillow next to your head and eagerly handing it to him. He takes the pillow and taps your thigh twice, signaling for you to lift up. He secures the pillow under your hips then brings both his large hands back to the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs up so you’re nearly folded in half, giving him complete access to your dripping heat. 
If there’s one thing about Joel Miller, it’s that he loves to make a fucking mess. You thought your first sensation would be one flat lick up your cunt, but instead you feel warmth. Wet and warm and everywhere, and finally you realize, he let his mouth fill with spit only to absolutely drench you with it. Once he’s satisfied with his mess only then does he dive into you like a man starved. Licking and pushing into your slit while the tip of his nose rubs against your clit has you climaxing in an instant, your back arching and your hips lifting as much as they can with the weight of his hands on your thighs keeping you in place. 
He lets one hand slowly slide off your thigh and up your belly until he reaches one of your tits, switching between grabbing your entire breast and pinching your nipple. He continues to lick at you and circle your clit with his tongue until you’re a complete whining mess from the overstimulation. “Daddy, please,” you moan. 
He lifts his head, eyes as black as ever, “I’ve got you, princess, you can take it.” He reluctantly breaks away from your cunt and kisses his way up your body, taking his time with sloppy, open mouthed kisses near your hip bone and your sternum, knowing those areas drive you crazy the most. He makes sure to bite a little extra hard in some areas on his journey up, knowing you love to admire all the marks and bruises he makes on you. 
He sucks another bruise right underneath your jaw, making you push up into him more, while his hands continue to wander and grasp every part of your body that he can. Finally he reaches your mouth and gives you a sweet, long kiss to your mouth, distracting you enough that you don’t see him reach for the vibrator in the nightstand beside the bed. You feel him slide his hand back down your body, but you still don’t realize the vibrator’s presence until you feel the buzz directly on your clit. 
Out of pure reaction, your hand flies to the nape of his neck and tugs sharply, all while obscenities fall pathetically from your mouth, “Oh- f-fuck, daddy, yes! J-just like that, please, please don’t stop…” The quick-paced, blinding pleasure builds so fast it cuts off your dirty mouth and reduces you down to moans and gasps and whines of daddy, daddy, daddy. 
He slips two fingers into your pussy, sliding in with so much ease with how wet you are from a combination of your cream and his spit, all while he uses his other hand to push the vibrator into your bundle of nerves. 
You don’t know whether it has been one minute or one hour of this, but all you know is that you’ve got sweat lining your forehead, beading down your body, and you absolutely can’t take the buzzing pleasure with the constant come-here motion with his fingers anymore, you have to let go. Although this time, it feels different than the rest of the times Joel has made you cum. This time… this time it feels like- you have to pee? 
Immediately you start to panic and try to break away from his hold, unable to allow yourself to fucking pee all over him. “Daddy, wait! Please stop.. it- it feels different, like I.. I think I’m gonna pee..” you gasp, trying to articulate your thoughts while he continues his torture on your cunt. 
His eyes go wide and it immediately registers for him, “Fuck, baby, don’t worry about that, just let go. Come on, daddy’s got you. You trust me?” 
You hesitate for a moment, but still, you know the answer, “Y-yes, daddy.” 
“Good, my princess. Cum for me, fuckin’ soak me. I told you I wanted another fuckin’ mess,” he demands and fucks you even harder with his fingers and increases the pressure of the vibrator. 
You all but scream, definitely sure the neighbors can hear you, but you don’t give a fuck with the fireworks erupting behind your eyes and all throughout your body. Your body is still convulsing and you’re sure you’ve gone unconscious for a moment, but what brings you back to the Earth is the feeling of a warm, flat tongue licking you all over, cleaning you up. Then another sensation hits you: your bottom half is completely fucking drenched. You muster up all the strength you can to open your eyes and look down to see what’s going on. 
You see your big, broad man licking you up so sweetly, but from his mouth down he is also absolutely soaked, down to the collar of his dark green shirt he was wearing. 
Holy fuck. You fucking squirted. That was new. And with Joel’s reaction to it, you’re definitely sure that’s not gonna be the last time he pulls that out of you. 
He doesn’t realize you’re up again until you’re softly calling his attention back up to you and not your pussy. He makes eye contact with you, and his eyes fucking sparkle. Yeah, there’s no way this was a one time kind of thing. He sits back up on his haunches and strips himself of his shirt. He never pulled his jeans back up from when you used him to get off in the living room, so his dick has been patiently waiting for attention since your last two orgasms. 
He strips himself completely at the bottom half, too, leaving you with a perfect view of his toned chest, softer middle, and bulging arms and shoulders. Your cunt, all used and abused, fucking clenches on nothing at the naked sight of him. Of course, he fucking notices. 
“Oh, my poor baby. She’s just fuckin’ beggin’ to be filled, huh?” His southern drawl always intensifies whenever he gets spurred on like this. And, fuck, if it doesn’t make you fold more than you already do. 
You whine at his words and spread your legs even wider for him to see what’s rightfully his. 
“Just beggin’ to get pumped full of my fuckin’ cum, huh, princess? Is that what she wants? That what my babygirl wants?” 
“Please, daddy! Yes, that’s what I- what I need, daddy… need you ins- fuck- need you inside, daddy,” you ramble out, already fucked stupid but still begging for more. He situates himself on top of you, stopping your begging with a harsh kiss that leaves your already swollen lips throbbing. “Shhh, I’m gonna give you what you need, darlin’,” and he kisses you one more time as he begins to notch his tip at your entrance. 
He hooks his arm underneath your knee, hiking your one leg up higher to open you completely. You feel him start to push in deeper, and neither of you can help the initial gasp of how good it feels to be consumed by one another. He leans down again to kiss you, unable to get enough of your lips on his, and you bring your hand back up to the back of his head, keeping him close to you, feeling the exact same way. 
He completely bottoms out into you then, his breathing labored and you, a whimpering mess. No matter how many times you two have fucked, his sheer size always makes you feel like it’s the first time. He stays still to let you get used to the feeling again. You both lay there for a few minutes, kissing and consuming each other’s breaths and moans while he gives you rhythmic little grinds to stimulate your clit. Your pussy is sobbing at this point, enough wetness has accumulated that he’s able to slide right out until just the tip is in you and he pushes right back in, hard. 
He fucks you hard, maintaining this rhythm for a while, completely consumed by the way you wrap around him so perfectly. What started off as one leg hiked up around him turned into a complete mating press, giving you the maximum sensation of his length and girth pumping in and out of you. He always gets so foul-mouthed whenever you two end up in this position, not that you’d ever complain because you love hearing that rough, sexy Southern drawl utter absolute filth that only your ears will ever get to hear. 
“Fuck, darlin’, it’s like she was fuckin’ made for me. Wrapped around my cock, so fucking tight and warm. I could spend fuckin’ forever here wrapped up in your tight fuckin’ cunt,” he groans. 
“All for you, daddy, always,” you respond, purposefully squeezing your pussy tight in time with your words. That drives him absolutely fucking crazy that he pulls his arm upwards in between your legs that are resting on his torso and brings his hand up to wrap around your throat. “Say it again,” he growls, “tell me who the fuck this pussy belongs to, baby.” He squeezes the sides of your neck tighter, creating an even lighter sensation in your head coupled with the submissive daze you’ve been in since you got here. 
“F-fuck, d-daddy- shit,” you can’t focus on anything but the way he feels wrapped around your neck while balls deep inside of you. 
“Darlin’ girl,” he warns, “don’t make me repeat myself.”
You sob out, willing your body to respond to him, willing your body to obey, “Th- this pussy belongs t- to-“ you take a breath, “to you, daddy, only you. Forever.” 
He releases your throat and pulls your legs down from the mating press, wrapping them around his waist instead. He places one hand at the back of your head and the other on the headboard, then kisses you furiously before breaking away, “God damn f-fuckin’ right, princess. All fuckin’ mine to do whatever I fuckin’ want.” And with that, he’s slamming into you, his hand on the headboard in a (wasted) attempt to save the wall from the constant banging. 
“Touch that pretty little clit, princess,” he breathes out, chasing his own release now with the sole intention of marking you with his seed. One hand still on his neck, the other snakes down to rub your clit in fast, messy circles, your body begging to cum for a fourth time tonight. “Daddy,” you whine out again, the honorific clearly being your only vocabulary for tonight. 
“I know, honey, I know,” he coos, “Cum for me, mama, and I’ll fill you up right fuckin’ now,” he sucks on your bottom lip, “You want that, baby? To be pumped full of me?” He knows your answer, yet he still asks anyway knowing how much his words affect you. 
“Please, God, yes, fill me up… I need your cum so fucking badly, I need to feel you, please,” you beg, only spurring him on more. 
With both of your mouths spilling such dirty words, his lips anywhere they can reach with the combination of you playing with your clit and him pounding into you, your body enters the astral plane yet again for the fourth time tonight. Though, this time, you force your body to come back down, so you can feel his warmth spill into you. 
It only takes but a few more thrusts after you climax for him to follow suit, roaring out as hot, thick ropes of cum spill into you, overflowing and dripping out of your sore cunt. He slowly pulls out, labored breathing, sits back up and just watches. Watches as your pussy clenches to keep him locked inside of you, watches as his load drips down your folds over your tight, little asshole. Another day, he thinks to himself with a smirk. 
He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until his fingers are engrossed in the thick combination of your releases. You moan out at the sensitivity of your pussy, but Joel doesn’t care. He slips his middle and ring finger in, feeling just how much he filled you up. And before you know it, he’s pumping in and out of you yet again, his eyes completely focused on your glistening sex, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you fluttering for another fucking release. 
“Ahh,” you hiss, not knowing whether you want him to stop or keep going. He uses his other hand to rub on your clit. Fuck. Yeah, okay, you want him to keep going. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum again,” you say as you scramble to get ahold of the bedsheets. 
Joel’s gaze breaks away from your cunt to look at you, he smirks like the devil, “Oh, yeah, honey? Gonna give me another one? Come on, baby, I know you have it in you,” he slips a third finger inside. You whine at the stretch. “One more mess, baby, and then I’ll take care of you, I gotcha,” he says for comfort. 
You’re nearing the point where you guys usually begin to transition into aftercare, and he knows. He always knows. But he also knows that today you need a little extra push, so he gives it to you. 
The thrusts of his fingers don’t come to a stop, but they exponentially slow. “Give me a color, mi amor,” he softly encourages. Even with your erratic breathing, you’re able to force out, “Oh my god, daddy, green, green, green, please go faster, just like before, please-” 
He quickly leans forward and stops your blabbering with a chaste kiss and chuckles when he pulls back, “My god, I love you so much, princess.” Then his fingers pick back up to the speed you were so desperately loving before, his and your cum leaking out all over the inside of your thighs. 
“Fuck, daddy, I love you so fucking much, fuck, thank you, thank you,” you cry out. A few more pumps and a few more circles to your clit and you’re cumming for the fifth (and final) time tonight. Joel groans at the way you finish on his fingers, and it’s his mouth that blabbers out this time.
“Shit, baby, yes, soak my fuckin’ fingers, let me feel you, fuck-” He’s so enthralled at the sight before him, he doesn’t hear you pleading for him to stop pushing in and out until the honorific fades, “Baby, baby, baby,” you frantically breathe. 
He makes eye contact with you again and realizes how caught up he was in you. “Oh, darlin’, shit, I’m sorry, mi amor. What’s your color, baby? Fuck, I’m sorry-” 
It’s you this time who forces your entire wobbly body to push up and meet him in a bruising kiss. “Stop, daddy,” you say with a lilt in your tone, signaling to Joel that you’re back from subspace. You smirk, “My color is green, cowboy, but I really need you to run me a warm bath now because I can’t move a single muscle with how you had me, baby,” and pull him in once more for another kiss. 
His smugness returns and he pushes you back down on his bed, peppering your face and neck with kisses, forcing sweet out-of-breath giggles from you. “That, I can do, baby. May I join you?”
Your face completely softens, your stresses and worries from the last 24 hours completely nonexistent. “I’d be mad if you didn’t, Miller.” 
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The next hour and a half — or until the bath water becomes tepid — is spent with him cherishing your body, washing you with your lavender, oat milk body wash you love so much, ultimately just helping you softly come down from your oxytocin high. 
You’ve never felt more loved, appreciated, or taken care of in your life. He always makes sure your come down is smooth and unnoticeable as you fall from a blissed state of mind to one of pure love and adoration. As long as you have him in your life, you truly believe you have all of what you need. 
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As he’s drying your body up and slipping you into one of his t-shirts, your stomach growls… loudly. 
“Darlin’...” 
You pull away from his grasp, jokingly rolling your eyes while smirking, “Yeah, yeah, Miller. Come on. Gotta fill me up again, don’tcha, cowboy?” 
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes out followed by your name, “Tryna put me in an early fuckin’ grave or what?”
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Author’s note - extended: Hi guys! I birthed this little one shot on a Friday night while sippin’ on a glass of whiskey and stressing about the stressful entire week I just had. This isn’t my first time writing, in general, but this is my first time writing with the intention of truly producing a story out of it.. this is also my first story I’m posting, so I’m very nervous. Even if just one other person reads this and enjoys it, that’s all that matters to me <3 I also wanna give a quick thank you to my bestie, who’s an AVID smut reader, for proofreading this. She said, and I quote, “gotta change my panties” and “she’s growling” after reading this LMAOO. So, thank you for that, bestie. I love you with my whole heart.
As with any fic, reblog and comments are very much appreciated!! All feedback is appreciated, too!!! Please do let me know how you liked this, and if there's anything specific I could work to improve, I'd love to know! I hope I did okay for my first actual attempt at smut.
Much love to everyone! <3
.
EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!
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corvidae-00 · 18 days
Text
"Kiss me?"
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A/n: Halloooo!! this is my first time writing for Joost and i LITERALLY have so many ideas so PLEASE REQUEST FOR HIM?!?!? PLEASEEE Based on this song! give it a listen ;>
~: fem! Reader, Tooth rotting fluff-, maybe slight angst if you squint, mutual pinning, both parties completely oblivious, reader and Joost have been friends long before Eurovision, literally so in love with each other, Maybe a little self-indulging, literally just a music fic but YAY- Word count- 1,095
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Joost rubs his fingers against his lips softly using his elbow to somewhat hold up his head, his day dragging on, and the thoughts of going home and smoking a quick cigarette sounding splendid right now. He sighs and sets his hands flat against the cluttered table the sound of music and heavy bass pumping the walls and making things seem far away. His concert was next and all he could do was wait and hope it went smoothly- not that he expected any different he couldn't help but ponder, especially with how empty the backstage room was. he fiddles with his tank top and slowly runs his fingers down to play with his jeans squinting and making a face at all the loose threads from how worn and loved all of his clothes had eventually become.
"Joost?" A voice calls from the door the handle turning slightly and a head poking in- a bundle of hair and smiles were what he was least expecting "Gekke kikker?" He smiles a goofy smile where his lips curl up and the dimples around his cheeks make his smile that much more beautiful. He stands up quickly and strides over letting you slip fully inside and smile just as wide "Surprise!" You laugh opening your arms for a big hug from one of your most long-time friends "What are you doing here?- I thought you were busy?" Joost says pulling you into his chest tightly and muffling his words by dropping his face into your shoulder enjoying your presence, feeling his worries and stresses fade. the hard vibrations of the bass are not so nerve-wracking now. "How could I miss my best friend's performance right before he takes the stage at Eurovision!" You chuckle and rub his back the tanktop lifting and falling with each stroke, Joost can feel the goosebumps creep up his arms at the gentle gesture "Ah, well- I guess that is understandable Mijn lieveling" he sprinkles a little bit of his mother tongue into conversations and while you would love to know what he was saying you were yet to get lessons that the dutchman so intently insisted on giving you. Pulling away Joost can't help but smile again knowing you are here and ready to cheer him on- his biggest supporter through thick and thin- someone he always adored and went to for anything. someone he in a sense of the word- loved. Maybe he truly loved you and maybe a few times he had laid in his bed with a cigarette and had his eyes closed with ideas of him in nice clothes and you in a beautiful dress and watching the stars in a beautiful less populated area where the galaxy could be seen. Just maybe.
This hadn't been the first time you had popped up or shown up to support Yoost- and it wouldn't be the last- being his personal cheerleader through everything- YouTube- the beginning of his music- and even now was a job you took seriously. Knowing Joost you knew In the end it meant something or changed some kind of emotion and the smile that always graced his face was something you were more than happy to bend over backwards to see. After the concert you found yourself walking around the nearly empty streets of Amsterdam laughing and leaning into Joost after a joke he cracked where it may not even have been a joke- the look he gave you just proceeded to lead you to crack up more "what? is that not something to ponder je mafkees??' he shoves you playfully before cracking a few laughs himself "oh no no- your face just makes it all the more fun" you poke at him and shake your head a little as Joost smirks taking two wide steps and wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up spinning you a few times "who has the funny face now?" He laughs at the surprise of the sudden assault on gravity "oh that's not fair!" You laugh trying to look back at him. Joost's eyes fall on yours, full of wonder and shine- 'has she thought about me at night like I have her? A future of this being normal-' he thinks to himself a small smile taking over his once loud features as he sets you down and shakes his head putting his hands into his oversized jacket an airy chuckle leaving him. Little did he know that every time he smiles- or laughs- or holds you like you mean the world butterflies erupt and you have to fight everything in you to kiss him, hold his cheeks in your hands, and run your thumbs over the apples of his cheekbones and be ever so gentle with him. something you have kicked your feet in bed about- you sat in front of your mirror wondering if that could ever be you.
Joost looks at you through his glasses the two of you standing a few steps apart both seemingly lost in each other's own thoughts- before Joost sighs and can feel his skin grow hot and he pulls a hand out to rub the back of his neck- "I- you-" he stumbles out and silently curses himself- an almost 30-year-old man can't even grasp his own emotions and You blink and smile a little stepping closer to him "You- Me?" you smile seconding his stutter and he looks over you his eyes landing on your lips that even in the dark only slightly lit up by a street light- seemed too soft to be real. He looks back at your eyes and reaches for your hand which you happily accept in the middle letting him pull you closer to him his other hand pulling out of his coat to wrap around your waist- "Kiss me..?" Joost whispers internally cringing- 'How straight forward- you clutz-' his thoughts are cut off by the feeling of you leaning in and softly pecking him on the lips- Joost leans forward to follow your lips as you go to pull away his eyes already having fluttered closed. You chuckle and lean back in kissing him gently and wrapping your arms around his shoulders leaning into the gentle embrace. Pulling away you and Joost lock eyes, cheeks flustered and smiles adorning each party's faces "Spend the night?" Joost looks to the side bashfully and you can't help but blush and nod "I guess that can be arranged" you tease leading both of you to laugh softly leaning in and resting your foreheads together.
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Dutch translator: Gekke kikker? - Crazy frog? Mijn lieveling - my darling je mafkees - you weirdo A/n: THANK YOU FOR READING- this was my first time ever writing Joost- so hopefully the more I write him the better it gets?? BUT PLEASE REQUEST FOR HIM!- I wanna write for him so bad- THANK YOU AGAIN!!! LOVE YOU ALL <3
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thehighpriestess1 · 11 months
Note
do you still do saiki smut fics? if so I would like to request Saiki who can’t keep his hands off you, he’s always touching all up on you like making u sit on his lap and have you shift on top of him. even in public, he just can’t get enough of u 🫣
sorry if it’s too much 😅
I hope you like this anon :) I hope I didn’t go overboard :)
Theme : Saiki using his powers to his benefit ;) All characters are aged up.
Warning : smut. 18+ only. Minors do not interact. Public smut.
Everyone who comes across Siki would probably describe him as a man of few words. His stoic face and calm demeanor made everyone believe that he was just a ‘chill’ guy. Even now, when he calmly agreed to have you sitting on his lap in Hairo's overfilled car. Before Kokomi could offer to switch places with you Siaki had already pulled you on his lap. You smiled at her hesitantly as you tried to adjust your short black tennis skirt.
Unbeknownst to everyone, you and Saiki had some sort of a secret relationship. Though you did not know the full extent of his power you had a vague idea that he was just different. When everyone went their separate ways after school you often found Saiki walking you to your home even though you lived on the opposite side of the town. When you forgot to do your school work, the class always ended up getting canceled. You did not know how it was happening but you had a feeling that Saiki had something to do with it. Eventually after one too many of these coincidences you confronted him and instead of confessing to making things work for you he confessed his feelings for you with a straight face. You didn’t say anything but you didn’t have to. Saiki knew.
Saiki was a completely different man behind closed doors. When in public, he did not want anything to do with anyone but behind closed doors he could not keep his hands off of you. His arms were always either wrapped around your waist or buried knuckles deep inside you. Another difference between Saiki outdoors and indoors was that while he showed a lack of energy around everyone, inside the bedroom his stamina was unmatched. He would tease and edge you for literal hours and when you’d eventually crumble at just the right touch Saiki would take you over the edge for as many times as he pleased. Somehow he knew your body perfectly, he knew when to stop and when to push for more. Never, even for a second you felt uncared for in his presence. He would groan and whine and praise you as he snapped his hips to yours. He was a passionate lover and calm best friend to you.
Even right now, On your yearly friends trip you should be talking to Everton and asking about their college life but you sat at the back quietly and watched everyone bicker over something trivial, Saiki’s arms were rubbing smooth circles over the soft skin of your thighs. He knew what he was doing. You turned your head sideways and saw Nendo passed out with a bag of chips open on his lap.
“No one will know”. Saiki whispered in your ear as he gently rocked you over his lap and you did not doubt him. His other hand snuck inside your polo t-shirt and cupped your beast over the lace bra. He put his one foot between yours and spread your legs to have you sit on top of him with your legs dangling on either side of his’. His other hand that was resting on your thigh slid in between your legs and he groaned when he felt the sticky wetness on his knuckles. He kneaded your breast with one hand and stroked your clit with the other, all the while rocking you gently over his hard on. Your mouth hung open and you swallowed your moans but Saiki didn’t want that. He wanted to hear you.
“They can’t hear us”. He whispered as he trailed kisses down your neck.
“Are…are you…sure?”. You whimpered.
Saili sucked on harshly at the juncture of your neck and shoulder and whole body twitched. “Need to hear you..trust me”.
You did. You did trust him. You let out a groan as he pulled down your lace bra and the cold air perked your nipples. No one turned around. “Fuck..Kusuo!”. You moved your hips on your own to get some friction. You clenched around nothing as Saiki continued to rub your clit over your lace underwear at an agonizing pace. “Please…need more”. You whimpered.
“You'll have to wait till we reach the hotel baby”. He smirked against your skin.
You let out another moan when you felt his clothed tip bump against your entrance. “”Tis..unfair…hotel is soo…far..fuck!”.
“What’s unfair is how you were stuck by Hairo’s side when your own boyfriend sat next to you”.
You groaned in frustration, “I was just…talking”.
“Why don’t you talk to him now? Should I let him hear you right now?”.
“No no no. Please”. You closed your eyes in frustration and decided that two can play this game.
You brought your legs forward and snuck your hand under your skirt and lifted up your ass to pull down the garment. Saiki kept his hand on yours but you swatted it away. You shimmied it down and when it reached your ankles you slowly bent down, causing the back of your skirt to lift up and give Saiki the view of your plump butt that he oh so loved and at the same time you grinded against him. When you straightened up you put the underwear in the pockets of his track pants. Saiki let out a sinful groan and you knew you had him.
“You’re teasing me”. He breathed out, running his finger through your folds.
“You started it”. You knew that his resolve was not going to crumble but you were not going to make it easy for him either. You rolled your hips and moaned his name while your one hand gripped his over your breast your other stroked his hard length.
“Fuck. You’re not making it easy for yourself”.
You chuckled. “No. I am going to make it so so so hard for you”. You spread your legs wider and leaned back on his chest and opened the top buttons of your polo giving him a view of your tits underneath. “Like what you see?”. You winked at him.
“Fuck..yes”.
“I wish you could suck on them as you filled me with your cock..”. You said sweetly.
“Don’t..stop it”. He warned.
“Why? I just want you to fuck me so hard that I pass out”. You arched your back and pouted at him. “I know you like it when my tits bounce,don’t you?”
He groaned plunged two of his fingers inside you and it made your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Is this what you wanted?”, He teased you.
“Fuck..yes yes yes..please”.
“You know that you can’t cum till we reach the hotel, right?”.
“Mmmmmm I’m about to Please let me..please…”.
“What will I Get ,baby?”.
“Anything…anything..please don’t stop..so close..please”.
Saiki smiled. He didn’t even want anything from you. He liked you like this. So dependent on him. He curled his fingers just right and with three more pumps you were gushing all over his finger and screaming his name.
“Such a good girl. My good girl”. He whispered as you caught your breath. Your body was still twitching and your mind felt fuzzy.
“Now, you are going to fall asleep and when you’ll wake up we’ll be in our hotel room and I’ll get what I want”. He winked and kissed the side of your head and your passed out.
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leclercstars · 5 months
Note
i’m craving something super angsty and max. like he and reader got into a fight and she left their apartment and got into an accident (someone hit her car while she was driving or someone ran into her while she was walking) and max doesn’t know that she’s been hurt for a few days until someone on the grid mentioned it to him and he grovels like his life depends on it to try and win her back. can end sad if you want
Woohoo another request fic!! This is a little different than what I usually write but I’m excited! Also I think I’ll turn it into a series. Anyways:
die for you
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Max Verstappen x Reader
Warnings: mention of car crash, some cursing.
“This cannot be fucking happening right now,” you were pacing around the kitchen of your and Max’s high-rise, your head buried in your hands as tears of frustration threatened to ruin your makeup. Thunder boomed and rain pounded on the windows.
Max had just gotten home from being out last night. It was 2 p.m.. The next day. You rarely felt this sort of anger towards him- but how could betray your trust like that? He swore up and down that he had accidentally fallen asleep at the after-party Charles had, but how could you be sure?
“Baby please you have to believe me,” his voice getting louder and louder as his frustration grew.
“I can’t! I can’t believe you! You slept at CHARLES? UNTIL TWO? It makes no sense especially since you usually don’t even drink that much.” tears were now spilling out of your eyes and your voice had taken on a tone you hadn’t even heard before.
“I’m sleeping at Isabelle’s tonight.” you said matter of factly.
Max sat on the couch, head in hands, too stunned to even move. What had he done? He knew why she was upset- and didn’t really expect her to believe his story. He hadn’t been answering her texts or calls last night either because his phone died- which certainly didn’t help the situation.
She left without so much as a goodbye. He might’ve just lost the best thing he ever had.
A week had passed now, without so much as a call or text from her. He had never felt so sick in his life, the heartbreak taking a toll on his physical health. Her stuff still lay scattered around the apartment- constant reminders of her presence that haunted him daily.
Max was hanging around the paddock the Thursday before the Monaco Grand Prix, chatting with all of his fellow drivers. He was sure that he was doing a poor job of hiding his down-trodden state.
“Did you hear about that massive wreck that happened the other day?” Daniel posed the question to the group. Everyone gave various sentiments of shock- talking about how the people involved were lucky to get out alive.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Max snapped.
“Dude, your girlfriend was literally involved. How do you not know? Did she not tell you? She’s going to make a full recovery reportedly.” Daniel replied back with genuine confusion.
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The entire world started spinning- and he only saw Charles concerned face before his vision went completely black
PART 2???
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justwonder113 · 1 month
Note
Hi! I came across your blog and I literally had a reading marathon! The way you write is just *chefs kiss*
can I request female reader x han, where you’re in his room doing each others makeup and you end up kissing and teasing each other and making a mess with the makeup, then a member walks in on you straddling his lap but nonethless they’re met with such a cute sight 😌
Aww I can not simply describe how much it means to me that you like my writing. Thank you so much for reading my work and requesting such an adorable fic idea!!!! I loved writing every second of it and I really hope it is what you had in mind and that you will like it.
Warnings: I don't think there's any? Please tell me if I missed anything Reader being whipped and showering Hannie with affection. Not proofread.
Masterlist
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Soulmate- a close friend or romantic partner with whom one has a unique deep connection based on mutual understanding and acceptance. Well it is how meeriam webster's dictionary describes it. But it it so much more it can not simply be described by words. The Greek philosopher Plato wrote that humans once had four arms, four legs and two faces. He explained that Zeus split us in half as a punishment for our pride, and we were destined to walk the Earth searching for our other half. Some people spend their entire lives searching for their soulmate. Some people have the pleasure of finding their other half, some don't. Some of them are so skeptical they give up on the whole idea of it.
You were always curios about who would capture your heart and who would be the one who made you feel so complete and full of love that you could call them your soulmate. You have always wondered how you would find out that they, they are the one, that's my soulmate. That's who I want to bond my life if.
Never in your wildest dreams would you imagine that you would realize you've found your soulmate, in the middle of the night, with your room dimly lit and music softly playing in the backround, laid across your bed trying to hold in your giggles as your boyfriend, the chaos incarnate, aka Han Jisung is trying to to put makeup on your face. This whole situation is ridiculous but you've never felt more at peace. You're sure now. This is the one you want to spend your life with. This boy who managed to capture your heart with his boba eyes and gummy smile is your soulmate. To think that you would realize this in such a ridiculous moment like this.
You don't need a mirror to know what you look ridiculous. You knew both of you would end up looking like circus clowns before you even took your makeup brushes out. That's why you went all out on his face and my god did he look ridiculous. But hey, you were also ridiculous, because looking at him, all dishelmed and with caked on makeup, messy hair and mischevious glint in his sparkly eyes, prettiest smile on his face as he proudly gazes at his own art, you have never been more in love.
"We need to even out the lipstick now." He looks away for a second and that's when you seize your chance. With one swift movement you switch your place with him. Han lookes up to you with wide eyes, clearly not expecting you to overpower him. "Wow this was really hot not going to lie!" He breaths out after a second, you can't help but roll your eyes.
"What a dork." You lean in and seal your lips together. You feel like you're overflown with love and all you want is to show him just how much you love him. You place gentle but firm kisses against lips, absolutely loving how he immediately responds to each and every one of them makeup long forgotten. You love how tightly he's holding onto your lips and how he chases after your lips when you lean back to let both of you breathe.
Sometimes you really can't believe that he's actually yours. You always get so owerwhelmed with love all you want to do is to shower him all the affection. And that's what you're set on to do. Feeling satisfied on the amount of kisses you left on his lips you decide to migrate them a little. Softly cradling his chubby cheeks you migrate your lips to his chin, his jaw, his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, everywhere you can reach. You want him to know just how precious he is to you. God you feel like you're under some type of love spell. You just can't stop kissing him.
And how can you when he looks so delicious? You could eat him up if you could. His hair is even more messy, his whole face is covered in your makeup and you can swear that red has never looked more better on anyone. His breathing is a little bit rugged, his skin is all flushed, which is apparent even under all that makeup, he has this lovesick smile while his eyes look a bit dazed while still shining like the brightest star for you. Does he even realize what he does to you?
"What brought this on?" He asks after he finally catches his breath. He leans up a bit so now you're in his lap, his arms tight around your waist.
A smile creeps up on your face, you gently move the hair out of his forehead and leave a little kiss there, smiling even more at the imprint of your lipstick on the center of his forehead. Just how much lipstick did he actually put on your lips?
"You make me believe in soulmates." Han looks surprised at fist, then unsure how to react before the brightest smile creeps up on his face. Suddenly your positions are switched yet again and you're on the bed while Han is the one covering your face with millions of kisses while muttering between each and every one of them just how much he loves you.
Unbeknownst to you, while you're all lovely dovely Chan had opened the door to Han's bedroom wanting to ask him something, let's just say there's this video going around in your friend group now where you look like two idiots in love. You wanted to die of shame when you saw it the first time, but upon closer inspecting it, the way you two looked at each other... You really found your soulmate.
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purple-obsidian · 12 days
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Heyyyyy pookieeee-i saw your Jason todd fic and wanted to ask,what do you think he will be like teaching his gf how to drive?
(Because nobody in my freaking life taught me how to drive yet so I have to sit like a duck and wait for someone to pick me up when I wanna go somewhere pleaseeee let me drivee-)
be brave (jason todd x fem reader) wc 800
⭓ fluff isn't my normal cup of tea. but for you, pookie, i can make an exception ;) sorry this took a while to answer, hope you don't mind i made this specific to driving a motorcycle. that's just what felt right when i was meditating on this prompt so i went with it. enjoy.
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"Jason, are you sure this is a good idea?"
"You second guessing me, princess?"
"Yeah, maybe I am. I could kill us!"
Jason scoffs and shakes his head in disbelief. "You think I would let that happen? Ever?" With cocky grin, Jason walks over and stares down at you, noting the apprehension on your face. "Remember the day we met? You told me you had a bucket list. Things you wanted to do before you died."
"Yeah, I only told you that because I thought I was going to die. You rescued me. I got plenty of time now, I don't have to learn how to drive tonight. Its already dark." You reach your hand up reflexively to rest against his chest as he gets closer. Its a habit of yours. You always find yourself drawn to the steady beating of his heart. Its grounding, and you need some of that right now.
"The road is well lit. We're miles from the outskirts of Gotham, no traffic out here. Just you and me, baby. Why not now?" His large hand rests over yours, pressing it more firmly against his chest. His heart is beating slow and steady, and his piercing green eyes are filled with admiration. "You and I both know that every day we have together is precious. Why wait to do the things you wanna do? Besides, I'd feel better knowing my girl can drive my bike if she needs to."
Jason knows you too well, calling you his girl like that makes you feel weak in the knees. Your own heart beats faster as you break your gaze away from your boyfriend smiling down at you, looking over at the motorcycle he brought you here on. For some reason, it looks more intimidating than it did a few minutes ago. You swallow the lump in your throat before looking back at him. "I'm nervous."
"I know." He states matter-of-factly. Of course he knows, he can read you like a book.
"I've literally never driven anything before. Like ever. I haven't even-"
"Shhh." Jason's hand leaves yours and cups your face gently. His other hand is on your waist, keeping you close. "You don't have to be good at it right away. I don't expect you to be. But you're smart. And you're perceptive. And I know after a little practice, you'll get more confident. I won't let us crash, baby, promise."
Jason really does know you too well. He can see the rebuttal forming on your lips before he finishes speaking. So he leans down to kiss it away before you can verbally express your doubts. The tinge of frustration you feel at being cut off isn't enough to keep you mind from turning to mush from the kiss. His lips are so warm, his breath tastes like spearmint, and his touch gives you butterflies.
But the kiss ends all too quickly. You know he cut it short it on purpose, not wanting your brain to turn off completely before you try and drive for the first time. "Sorry, babygirl, can't give you too much. How could you drive if you're all drunk from my kisses? Hm?"
He runs his fingers through your hair, taking in how cute you look when you're speechless. A moment later, Jason releases his hold on you and turns towards his bike, walking to it with a bit of pep in his step and smugness in his grin, leaving you stammering for a second as you try and string together a coherent thought.
"F-fuck you, Jason." You say after a moment. He always knows how to shut me up.
"I love you too." He grabs his helmet and puts it on before tossing you yours. It's an easy catch, but you're still giving him a dirty look.
"Why did we have to do driving first?" You grumble, accepting your defeat. "Pretty sure seeing the pyramids was also on my bucket list. Along with an abundance of other fun things, like riding in a helicopter, or swimming with dolphins. Or what about joining the mile high club? I'd think that one would be your first priority."
Jason is beaming, watching you put your helmet on and get ready to ride. Even as you scowl at him and mutter complaints, his heart melts at how easily you folded. All it took was a kiss. He always gets his way. He knows you can't say no to him. Jason Todd has you wrapped around his finger, and the vigilante couldn't be any happier about it. He looks you up and down to admire your body before replying, "Stick with me, princess, and I'll make all your dreams come true." He promises. "One at a time. I'll show you the pyramids. I'll fuck you in a plane. But first…"
He grabs you by your waist with both hands and effortlessly lifts you up off the ground to set you down on the seat of his bike. You yelp in surprise, quickly grabbing his hands to steady yourself. "First, you gotta be brave and learn how to ride your boyfriend's bike."
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⭓ masterlist ⭓
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doobean · 7 months
Text
AN EASY A - NAGI SEISHIRO
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synopsis: There's a problem student in your class and he just can't seem to understand that he needs to put in the effort. You've already given him three chances to make up his assignments - all of which he ignored. But what happens when he suggests another alternative during office hours?
contents: explicit content, afab!fem!reader, age gap (he's 22 and reader is 27), student-teacher (duh), reader kind of a tough professor lol, also a bully too ig, sex in teacher's office, masturbation (reader), power imbalance, nonconsensual video recording, vaginal sex, unprotected, creampie, breast/nipple play, dom?reader, switch!nagi, cunninglingus, cumming on face and inside, degradation, name calling (brat x 2, good boy x 1), nagi having a big dick, happy ending :) word count: 3.7K a/n: part 3 of my kinktober event :3 SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG LIFE TOOK OVER BUT I HOPE THIS MAKES UP FOR THE LOST TIME ;; I WILL MAKE THE LAST KINKTOBER FIC EXTRA SPICY TOO DONT WORRY FAM - also im super proud of myself for literally scraping the draft and rewrote this within a span of two days?? like wow the pressure is on.
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There are some habits that never seem to change — even with age. You’ve seen it all, experienced it too, from emailing your teachers last minute about having to make up an exam worth over half of your course grade to faking a family death in order to get an extension, or — and this is more for students who are a bit too ‘brave’ — blaming the teachers for their inability to do their jobs. You knew what you would be getting into when you went into this job, from having to do the last minute panic pleas to now being on the receiving end of it. And you now actually feel sorry for having to bombard your past professors like that.
You release a deep breath from your nose and flick the red gel pen across a student’s exam, circling the large failing number by their name. “I’ll see you next year.” You try to sound less harsh, more on the sympathetic side, since you’re relatively still within the same age group as some of these students, but who wants to hear that? That they have to repeat a course and be stuck a graduation year behind? Absolutely no one.
You want to look away as you hand the student back his exam scores because you just know it’s going to end with tears and meaningless pleas but that would be unprofessional on your end. Instead, you give the student a small smile and a couple of pieces of candy from the glass bowl next to you. 
“Sorry if it’s not much but it’s better than nothing?” God, you need to work on your pep talk. These students are basically adults, not elementary school kids.
“A-Are you sure I can’t do anything else to boost my grade?” The student starts to whimper and you have to tense your whole body from cringing at their quivering voice. 
Ugh, it’s useless. Why bother begging if they haven’t bothered to study the material?
Still, you manage to whip up an emphatic frown and shake your head, voice sounding more motherly. “I’m sure it’ll be easier for you to understand next time.”
Another whine and then a final huff before the student storms out of your office. By the time the door shuts and their wails are out of ear shot, you slump back into your chair and groan loudly into your palms. Your body aches from being at your desk all day long — your mind is doing no better, having to deal with students’ cries and unwarranted trauma dumping. Seriously, when are they going to pay teachers more to deal with this type of stuff?
On the bright side of things, your office hours are officially over. Final grades will be up by tonight and you’ve completed most of your tasks with all but one student being a constant no show for the eternity of the semester but that responsibility doesn’t fall onto you. He and the handful of others can just show up again next year. 
You spend some time debating your options, eating a nice, warm bowl of noodles sounds good for now but… you did spend nearly eight hours cooped up in your office and you are feeling a bit high energy right now, so stress relieving might be a good answer first.  
“Now, where did I put that thing?” You reach down your desk, pulling up your purse and rummage through it looking for a very specific purple ‘massager’. 
It’s super rare for you to ‘release’ stress while on campus grounds, this might be one of the few times, with others following the same patterns, but you feel the utter need to reward yourself after today’s events. It’ll only take you maybe ten minutes max, afterwards it’s dinner and then a quiet train ride home. Plus, not like you have a partner who can do this for you — you barely have time to take care of yourself, let alone be in a relationship or commit yourself to a random hook up. Sometimes, it’s just better to handle the situation yourself since it is your body.
A breathy sigh leaves your lips as you place the vibrating head against the soft cotton fabric of your panties, already soaked through by just the thought of de-stressing yourself. You throw your head back, with one hand steady with the magic wand and the other traveling up to your blouse, unbuttoning the top and allowing your black bra to be exposed in the room. As you increase the pressure from the vibrations, your free hand spills your breasts from its cups, your thumbs and digits immediately running over the sensitive nubs and plush flesh of your chest as you start to chase your high.
“M-Mhm—! Right there…” You roll your head to the side and shut your eyes, imagination fleeting to the thoughts of a male seated in between your legs, his tongue desperate and latching to your overwhelmed clit and folds while your thighs keep his shoulders in place. 
You think it’s so unfair that your other friends have already settled down with partners of their own. When holidays come around the corner, when you finally catch a break from all the whining and fake wolf cries, you just have to hear your friends gush about how romantic their partners are to them. You secretly hate winter because of it. All those talks about Christmas gifts, their New Year’s couples resolutions, their stupid fancy ski trips that cost close to thousands of dollars, and then top it off for Valentine’s Day. Summer is more bearable, only because of the lack of romantic holidays, but you still get bitter from seeing their beach photos and international trips.
You change the position of your magic wand, facing it closer and pressing it harder down your clit, nearly drawing blood from your lips as you suppress back a frantic moan — a moan that’s a mix of both pleasure and frustration. 
Fuck the students. Fuck your friends. And fuck this job.
“H-Haah—! Oh my god…” Your hips buckle feverishly, body quaking in your seat as you start to feel a familiar coil tightening in your stomach and a rush down below. A build up of tears start pooling at the corners of your eyes as your vision starts to grow hazy. Your heart heaves forward, about to burst out of your chest, the imaginary man just about to finish you off—
Creak.
Your eyes immediately pop open and the color drains from your face at the squealing sound from the door. You don’t have enough time to cover yourself up when you realize that a student is standing by the entrance, wearing an equally shocked expression on his face. A tousle of white shaggy hair, large gray eyes, appearing at a staggering height with—your gaze trail to his hands and nearly faint from the sight—his phone.
The sound of the door creaking again snaps you out of the phase and your arms fly over your chest, the words stuck in your throat and your vibrator falling to the floor. 
Shit, what should you ask first? Has he been recording you this whole time? When did he even show up? You’re positive that you were the only one left in the academic building, so what is going on?
“Um,” The male has the audacity to walk in the room, his gaze fixated on everything but you. “Are office hours still open?”
What. The. Fuck.
You blink once, twice, and, when the student is still standing there, confirming your thoughts that he isn’t an awful mirage sent down by the Lord himself, you feel yourself internally shrinking.
“I-Is that the first thing you want to ask me?” You stifle back a laugh, or at least you think it’s a laugh. Maybe even a few waterworks for later. “Just who are you?”
But then it hits you. The black and blue duffle bag he has by his side had his name engraved on it. You don’t need to take a closer to recognize the national team’s logo and you certainly don’t need a Google search to realize that Nagi fucking Seishiro, a soccer prodigy and your apparent student for the semester, might’ve just recorded you masturbating in your office.
You manage to find an old jacket from one of the drawers at your desk and throw it on before pointing a harsh finger at the man. “Delete it, now.”
“Will I get an A?” Nagi is surprisingly blunt and, now looking back, this might honestly be the first time you’ve ever talked to him out of the whole semester. He seems to catch your perplexed look, shooting you a pair of creased brows back as he explains, “All of my other courses were remote because of training and football games… You were the only professor that denied it.”
You huff, seemingly annoyed that he thinks he can be an exception to your course rules. “I don’t hand out favoritism to just anyone and,” You glare at the phone in his hand, sneering right back at his uncaring facial expression. “I’m definitely not going to pass you if you’re threatening to black mail me.”
“Maybe we can help each other out?” Nagi offers, maybe a bit too fast and too eager. 
You cautiously sink back in your seat, eyes narrowing at his suggestion. “What are you implying, Nagi?” The male shuffles awkwardly in place and your gaze flicks down, eyes widening for the nth time today and an audible gasp slips out. “You can’t be serious.”
“I need to pass and you—” Nagi clears his throat and motions to your slick covered vibrator, which is still very much on and buzzing away on the wooden floor boards near his feet. “You didn’t finish.” He rakes his fingers through his hair and adjusts the semi-hard length through his sweats with his other before finishing his offer. “I’ll delete the video, help you, and you’ll give me an A?” Nagi lamely suggests. 
You want to scream, dig yourself a ditch large enough to fit you and the rest of however much pride you had left, and wither away. You’ve had students coming to you with plenty of other excuses, much more tamed than whatever situation you’ve found yourself in. And, regardless how much shitty this actually is, it doesn’t get rid of the fact that: one — you’re still sexually frustrated from having your orgasm ruined by this oversized, lazy fucker, two — you literally just got this job a year ago and getting fired for masturbating on campus might not look so great on your record, and three — if Nagi is true to his words, maybe you both can just forget about it the next day.
“You don’t get the control, I do.” You rise from your seat, allowing the jacket to fall from your frame. Your gaze hardens on the male subject in front of you as you bend down to reach for your toy, turning it off and putting it away in a nearby drawer that’s most likely filled with other student’s graded assignments. 
Whatever, they’ll probably cry more fluids on it when they get their results back anyway.
Nagi tenses when you reach over to touch his arms, feeling up his toned biceps and rest of his upper body underneath the black hoodie, and he doesn’t dare to move unless you tell him to. You let out a scoff, feeling satisfied that he’s already willing to compromise so quickly under short notice. With a light tug on his sleeve, you drag him closer to your desk and settle yourself on top of it. You hike up your pencil skirt to your upper thighs and spread your legs wide enough for the width of his shoulders.
“On your knees, brat.”
He silently obliges, bending down on one knee and his hands find home on your inner thighs. You resist the urge to squirm under his touch, still feeling rather sensitive from your earlier chase and not wanting to give him any ounce of satisfaction. Without any audible exchanges, he allows you to direct his head closer to the heat of your sex, the combination of your increasing wetness and the hot puffs from his breath makes your stomach twist in anticipation.
With a quick swipe, his fingers brush aside your panties to the crease of your thighs and lean in, giving a few experimental licks to your slicked cover folds before burying the rest of his face in. Your reaction is instant. Your fingers claw their way deep into his shoulder blades, thighs threatening to squeeze the living life out of him, but Nagi’s grip is even more threatening. He stays rigid, palms glued to your thighs and keeping them in place as his tongue flicks against the stiff nub — drawing lazy circles.
Your mouth betrays your character as he suddenly decides to insert two digits, scissoring their way into your velvety walls. Nagi grunts in response at just how lewd you sound right now. 
“Soaking wet…” He observes with careful eyes at your sex before looking up, a playful smirk flashes across his face when he notices the flush in your cheeks. With another twirl from his fingers, combined with the slow swirls from his tongue, your head rolls back as the torrent seems to be relentless.
With the next extra pumps, you cum hard with a shudder, vicing your thighs against his head.  You can feel the leak of fluids slide out of your folds, and Nagi pushes his face inward, making sure he slid his tongue against that sweet spot of yours again. It blinds you with a final surge of pleasure, and you cry out as your orgasm shakes you to the core, nails biting into his shoulders.
You’ve never experienced an orgasm that intense before, even with the usage of your vibrator — hell, you can’t even remember when’s the last time a man has made you reach that high. Bright colors cloud your vision as you tumble through what seems like an endless bliss. Your body goes slack, back now flushed against the office desk, but Nagi’s body is still tense, his muscles twitching as he gets to his feet and lifts your legs off his shoulders.
“Hey,” Nagi slurs, wiping away your slick with the back of his hand.  “We’re not done here.”
“W-What are you talking about—ah!”
Your vision is just beginning to clear up when you find yourself trapped between Nagi’s arms. He’s hovering above you, a certain dark look casts over his gray hues as he bores into your own. You swallow hard, heart beating faster when you look down to see his sweats already laid around his thighs and his cock springs free, head spilling with heavy amounts of pre. Nagi’s length twitches at the sounds of your moans and the male takes that as a sign of approval.
“What?” He leans forward, his bangs brushing against your forehead. “You’ve never seen a penis before?”
“Don’t get smart with me, brat.” You spit back, immediately tearing your gaze away from his rather impressive size. Might be the biggest you’ve ever seen in person outside from those awful porn videos online.
If you can find the energy to, you might’ve laughed at his lame attempt to have the upper hand, but Nagi doesn’t waste his time. He closes the distance, smashing his lips against yours, tongue already dragging its way down your throat. You choke back but recover quickly, hands flying to his locks, grabbing fistfuls, and rocking your hips against his hardened appendage. A sinful groan slips from his lips and lifts one of your thighs up, your ankle resting on his shoulder while he wraps the other around his waist. 
You part your lips when he breaks away from the kiss, a thin trail of saliva connecting you two, and a whine spills from you as Nagi begins sliding his cock in between your folds. He sucks in his teeth, breath hitching sharply at the sight. 
“Wanna put it in so bad—” He shudders seeing your slick engulfing his length. “Can I—Can I please put it in?” His monotone voice now replaced with a shaky resolve, almost as if he’s seeking for your next stage of approval and pleasure. 
You reach up and cup his cheeks in your hands, eyes softening at his glassy ones. “Promise to delete that video and you might get a chance, Nagi.”
“Sei,” The male breathes out.
You tilt your head. “Huh?”
Nagi leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheeks into your palms. “Want you to call me Sei… Can you do that?”
“Sei…” You whisper out, suppressing back a laugh when you see the towering male tensing at the sound of his name. The twitching from his cock brushes against your clit making you squirm. “Sei, make me cum around that cock of yours.”
A cry escapes from the both of you when he slides in, inching bit by bit and holding your waist with both hands as leverage. You can’t do anything but throw your head back, sounds leaving your hoarse throat at the sheer size from him.  Your hands can only reach his thighs, nails leaving their crescent marks on his skin as Nagi bottoms out inside of you with a long, agonizing stroke. Nagi takes his time, building a slow but steady rhythm, staring down at you with intense gray eyes and making sure the thickness of his cock stretches your walls as he continues. You suddenly feel grateful that you came earlier, the extra slick and foreplay made the insertion easier because you’re certain without it there’s no guarantee that you would’ve been able to handle this mind numbing fucking.
After a few more experimental strokes, Nagi finds a comfortable pace. You’re now starting to get used to him and it feels so, so good that you’re finding everything in your power to spread your legs as far open as they would go. Sensing your struggle, Nagi lifts one hand to push your thigh back even further, and you let out a yelp, whining when you feel him brushing against that sweet spot inside of you again.
A warm rushing sensation starts building in your stomach again and you feel as if you’re about to jump off a cliff. Your walls clamp down around his cock, wails starting to bounce off the walls and legs shaking without any means of control. You’re absolutely floored by the way Nagi’s able to make your body react this much under his touch. It’s only your first time having sex, yet it feels like he’d been making love with you for a lifetime. 
Your eyes fly shut as the feeling of his callous thumbs make their way onto your swollen clit, rubbing and tapping away. Flames are riding your nerves, you can’t hold back any sort of resistance in your voice as he picks up the pace, hips slamming into yours and sounds of sex filling the air. Nagi moves swiftly and punishingly, holding your hips still and not allowing you any room to move around as his cock tears against that spot that had tears finally spilling down your flushed face.
“Sei,” You choke out a sob, throwing a hand over your mouth to try and suppress some of the noise. Though, you and him both know it’s a futile effort.
The build up of pleasure is so binding that you’re beginning to lose sense of time and place, feeling only the desperate and feral thrusts from your student. Your second orgasm fades slowly, leaving you in a pool of ecstasy, but that doesn’t stop Nagi. 
Still hard and pumping, his grip on your hips only tighten and he grunts out a lustful moan. “Feels good, right? Cumming all over me?”
You look up to him, tears of pleasure disorienting your vision, and in a state where you’re too incoherent to speak — pleading only with your doe eyes.
Nagi understood immediately. He slows down his pace, leaning forward, making sure the head of his cock kisses the inside of your cervix before bending down to place one on your own gaping lips.
“Such a good boy, aren’t you?” You manage out.
He groans at the pet name and peppers your face and neck with wet kisses, lifting your leg with one hand so that he can slowly stroke back and forth inside.
One of your hands reaches for your chest, fondling and toying with your nipples while your other hand reaches for the back of his head, gripping his white locks and pulling him down for another feverish kiss. Your lips remain sealed and pressed together in a battle of tongues as he rocks inside of you, sending you yet another orgasm as he moans into your mouth. 
“H-Haah—I’m close…” His hips buck wildly. “Gonna cum inside of this pretty pussy…”
Nagi finally comes undone inside of you, his whole body shuddering as coats of white paint the insides of your velvety walls. A heavy pant from him catches your ears as he pulls out slowly, eyes admiring the hot, white trail that travels down your thighs and onto your desk. 
By now, you can barely keep your eyes open, both mind and body exhausted. You try to get up, only to find zero strength left in your limbs, but soon you feel a pair of toned biceps around your waist and Nagi pulls you into his firm, yet comforting chest. 
You want to ask him something again, something regarding that video he took of you earlier, but you’re beginning to lose your train of thought as exhaustion creeps up. Your entire body aches and your pussy is still emptying his remaining orgasm. But, strangely enough, you find yourself not caring about it anymore. 
A smile makes its way onto your features as you drift off to sleep, making you miss the fact that Nagi did delete the video shortly after and scribble a quick note next to your purse. It’ll be another hour before you have the chance to read it.
‘Don’t forget that A. XXX-XXX-0506 - Sei.’
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© 2023 DOOBEAN. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.
KINKTOBER TAGLIST (PART III)
@milkistoshi @mareonyan @saenora @blissblossom @wowonamo
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kekaki-cupcakes · 7 months
Note
Hi! Imma resend my req then cause yep.
Could I pls get Nico with a super rich pretty boy (mortal) that’s like very affectionate and looks like a airhead but just like completely changes when it comes down to business like becomes super serious? And he’s like super big in making Nico blush with lavish and thoughtful gifts or trips to compensate cause he can’t like fight monsters? Feeel free to decline!
Ps: I loved ur Connor stoll x mortal fic!
Hey <333 so this was kinda changed around a bit and also mixed with a request for Nico x Son of Eros from ages ago, so whoever asked for that, here it is!
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red roses and ghost flowers---Nico x flirty son of Eros
»»————- ★ ————-««
-Nico doesn’t know how to react.
-First of all, touch is a big no no for him, it makes him feel claustrophobic and stuck and there’s a lot of reasons he really doesn’t like that feeling. But then you came along, and suddenly maybe if he’s outside in the open spaces and you run up and wrap your arm around his shoulder, it might just be okay. 
-You just wear the prettiest rings and give him the prettiest rings, that holding hands isn’t the worst thing. Just because of the rings. Definitely. Not because of how your knuckles sit against his the way your thumb rubs against the scars covering his palms. 
-His hands. Holy Hades, you seemed to have this obsession with doing that silly bow and pressing your lips to the back of his hand every time he saw you. 
-Which was a lot. 
-Maybe it was meant to be, or maybe it was because Nico sort of detoured a little to wander past the Eros cabin or pop into the arts and crafts center. Just to see how Annabeth was doing teaching the weaving classes, of course. Not because you were usually in the back making another little thing.
-Nico ended up with a lot of those little things. They filled an entire coffin shaped shelf in his by now, but he couldn’t exactly get rid of them. The skull shaped candle was just too on point, you must’ve found a real skull for comparison, and that was dedication Nico couldn’t just throw away. And then there was a vinyl record of an old band Maria had taken him to with Bianca. However you had found that, it must've taken a lot of time and money. It would be rude to get rid of something like that.
-Of course the bouquets were always chucked out every few days, but only when Nico had touched the soft petals with a smile too much and they’d started to shrivel.
-Nico was still convinced Hazel was the mole, running to find you every time the sunflowers or the red roses or the ghost flowers [He hated to admit that they were really cool] wilted, because then another bunch of flowers would turn up on the doorstep of the Hades cabin with a pink silk holding them together. 
-Even the Mythomagic cards you’d found stayed on the shelf, although Nico already had them. They were from you. It would be rude. And they sort of made him grin a little bit. You paid so much attention, why wouldn’t that make him grin? 
-Especially because, well, you could be paying attention to anyone else. Literally anyone. There were people clawing their way into the sparring classes you went to. Not that they had much of a reason to watch, you spent most of the time holding a sword and then blinking in confusion at the instructor, who’d given up by now. 
-Archery was a whole different story though, and Nico had to admit, he had sort of gone to watch you do that a few times. 
-On one hand, you weren't exactly bad looking, but on the other hand all he could see was Eros laughing cruelly and launching volley after volley of heart shaped arrows into Nico’s limbs in that shadowy place filled with broken statues and pillars. It was safe to say he had a bit to work through, but the fact you still ran up with a grin considering the first time Nico met you, he had a full blown panic attack and then Jason nearly bit you, he figured you couldn’t do much harm. 
-The son of Jupiter still watched your interactions carefully, but Nico had convinced him to tone down the growling part. 
-Then you’d both bonded over the fact that your dads sucked majorly, and now Nico was sort of concerned that Jason might steal his- his… his whatever you were [apart from way too pretty]
-Nico had to admit, you were really good looking. Something about the shininess of your eyes and the way your smile was so sharp had to be some sort of love god trickery, but it made his stomach fill with the souls of the departed and shadows to thicken in the corner. 
-You didn’t even mind when the grass wilted around him and the air got a bit too cold to be normal. 
-One time you even picked him up and just carried Nico princess style to the pavement that couldn’t shrivel and turn brown. That certainly helped the bad feelings inside his head take a break and admire your arms. 
-He figured when you showed up one night in your normal camp clothes and a pink bow tie to take him to the first showing of Scream 6 [Nico liked explaining how many stabs it would actually take to kill the characters], that there really was no back peddling.
-So he took the bouquet of ghost flowers from you and then held both the flowers… and your hand. 
»»————- ★ ————-««
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pumpkinbxtch · 2 months
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hi! I love your Apollo fics sm can I please request a fic we’re the reader is Percy’s older sister and she finds out there’s like a prophecy of her marrying Apollo and then like they eventually meet and fall and love and then what there marriage is like
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𓇼 the sun & the sea 𓇼 〰✷〰
— apollo / lester x daughter of poseidon!reader
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— part i | part ii | part iii | part iv |
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☆ radiostar is playin': hot rod by dayglow...!
summary: There is a prophecy waiting for you to listen to it and although it may not be something you expect or consider possible. You know what they say about prophecies…they can't fail to come true.
warnings: none BUT long read, literally. got out of hand and i couldn't stop writing. that's bad? oh, fuck me, i'm sorry. a/n: i appreciate your request, thank you (although I think I changed it a little, sorry). HEAR ME OUT I feel like I owe a lot of love to those who love Apollo, so that's why I didn't entertain the idea of ​​making this long. Hope you like I know it's long, but I promise I did my best to make it bearable and fun, I swear. 😭
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“The sea and the sun are not far away as they look…”
They told you to stay away from the attic of The Big House, but they never told you why.
“Only he can go up”, they said, and it seemed stupid to you because he was your younger brother; you were supposed to protect him.
“It's very dangerous”, they told you while Annabeth went up, even though you were a couple of years older than her.
“Only if you lead some quest, but…” but no, because as the years went by, they made sure to remind you of your place. They told you that you were powerful, smart, and capable, because, yes, you were Poseidon's firstborn, but not the chosen one. That was Percy, your brother. Did it hurt? Yes, as an older sister, you tend to aspire to greatness and be an example, but you didn't die; you got over it.
“What does it matter? Less work for me” you said as you watched your brother's back on all the missions. Anyway, you ended up stuck in his destiny.
“His destiny. But then, what's mine?” you wondered. Then, when you took a step near Rachel Dare's cave, they stopped you too.
“It's–”
“Dangerous.” You completed the familiar phrase with a look of disgust, avoiding Chiron's eyes. He just looked at you with pity, thinking to himself that if you went in there, you could cause more trouble for your father or Olympus… Or everyone; it would be a war among all the Olympians, something they didn't need with Titan Kronos already on their heels.
Dionysus gave you his typical mocking smile, the same one that made you want to grab the can of Diet Coke and throw it right at his disgusting Christmas-reindeer-red nose.
“It would be so interesting, but we don't need it,” he said as he dragged you away from Rachel with Chiron.
You weren't stupid, you knew there was some good reason. But damn, those fossils were sneaky and never let you get to your redheaded companion, who also avoided you like the plague. Between those two things, you never managed to achieve it. Even less so after you ended up fighting on the Argo II with your new friends, straight from real Greece.
Oh, man, if you had thought Kronos was a damn old grump, Gaea was an old ball-buster. You didn't even have time to think about your future when you didn't know if you had one.
After the second war is when you started to throw in the towel about the future. You realized that the last thing you wanted to know at that moment was whether you would have to fight against twelve more Titans, return to Tartarus, or travel to Alaska again.
New Rome became your new home, and you only waited for Percy to catch up with you along with everyone else. That is, until you returned home to pack new things and didn't find your brother studying just as he should be.
— Mom? — You asked when she came back from shopping.
She gave you that look, and you cursed.
— Relax, he'll be back in a while; he just went to drop off Apollo or well, now he's Lester because apparently he's no longer a god but Zeus…
— Wow. Wait, what?
As a hero of Olympus, touching, seeing, or talking to the gods was never impossible for you; in fact, it was much more usual for your taste, and although you had been through too much already, that was new. So, you found yourself immediately traveling to Long Island Sound on the back of a Pegasus, looking for your brother. You wouldn't let Apollo, Lester, or whatever he called himself now take your brother away to distract him with his godly stuff that surely wouldn't lead to anything good.
— Where's Percy?! — You shouted in the dining hall, making the campers flinch.
Chiron got up from his seat, and from there, he smiled at you, but it only put you in a worse mood.
— Dear, it's been a long journey. Please, sit and eat with us.
You lowered your head without taking your eyes off Chiron and tightened the dagger on your belt. There was no reason for it, you knew, but you couldn't help feeling that fury after knowing everything you had been through. Percy deserved a break.
— Where's my brother? — The pause between words made the campers squirm in their uncomfortable seats. They had heard about you, about everyone. to be exact, in the third lesson of history in their camp classes.
— He left Apollo and Meg in a field not far from here — Chiron decided to sit back down and began to spread the tablecloth nervously. — He probably should have already reached home while you were flying here.
You sighed, and as you relaxed your body, everyone seemed to feel relieved.
— He has exams, Chiron — He nodded, and you made your way to the table where he was.
— In fact, there are problems, and apparently, he promised to come back this weekend — Your eyebrows furrowed again, and Dionysus laughed.
— Girl, shouldn't you be in New Rome?
— I went home for a few more things, also taking the opportunity to see my family, and it turns out that my little brother was helping an ex god who can't fend for himself, risking his studies. — You replied without looking at him — And speaking of brothers, you should control yours, Mr. D.
The god of wine snorted, and you formed a mocking smile. — Insolent.
— Miss Jackson — Chiron intervened, and you softened your gaze toward him — You can stay tonight, you know you're welcome and after all, it's too late to travel on Pegasus.
You didn't argue with them; you'd never put your pegasus in danger. So, for the first time in a long time, you returned to your cabin, the same one you shared with Percy and Tyson for so many years, and you had to admit that you missed him. At dawn, you were preparing to travel, and you left at the moment you thought no one was watching you, how wrong you were because a few meters away, Apollo was hidden behind the cabin piles, admiring you from afar.
— She… — He felt his heart tighten, and his gaze unfocused. He cursed his mortal body for how weak it was.
— Pervert! — Meg shouted, alerting the other campers who turned confused, and Apollo blushed.
— Shut up, I'm not a pervert — He smiled exaggeratedly at the others, pretending a smile and letting them know that everything was fine.
— You saw her — Said a voice behind him once Meg was far enough away to hear. The brunette turned and smiled sheepishly.
— For a second — Apollo replied, avoiding his old friend's gaze; embarrassment nibbled at his body, and it became evident once his cheeks glowed.
Chiron had never seen him… like that, so young, embarrassed, and notably imperfect, but despite Apollo's opinions about his recent change, he thought it suited him well, even found it amusing.
— You remember…
— I remember it well, Chiron — Apollo blushed even more — That's why I didn't approach her; dealing with my father's wrath is enough. Now I don't want to annoy Poseidon or I'll probably wake up dead on the lake shore tomorrow.
He played with the tips of his sneakers as buried them in the rocks on the floor; he looked like a scared little boy, but Chiron didn't judge him.
— I think you know what it means when she's around when you're close.
The ex god didn't want to pay attention, but he knew he was right.
— Although I remember who she is… there’s a problem. I don't remember how to avoid her…— Apollo's blue eyes looked directly at Chiron's, and the urgency on his face told him he was telling the truth. — If I don't know now, it's going to be harder; all I can do is hide if she's near.
— We've lasted many years with this circus, and as much as I respect the lord of the seas, I don't think this will last long. And you know what's more stubborn than a son of the sea god?
— The sea god — Apollo raised his eyebrows in annoyance, and Chiron resisted rolling his eyes.
— Fate, Apollo. You know it well, things are written. The prophecy is still there; it exists, and all we've done is delay the inevitable.
The brunette nodded with annoyance and waved his hand dismissively.
Although he wanted to pretend that he didn't care, the anxiety of what was to come ate at him. He knew very well that it wouldn't take long for you to discover what all these years had been hidden from you. If Apollo reflected better on that, he wasn't sure he wanted to continue keeping it to himself, either, 'cause those years had been torture for him. Yeah, he knew that you weren't yet mature enough for your mind to be stained with the weight of a prophecy that, unlike the others, not had to do with some quest or some imminent danger that threatened the entire world; but now you are in college, he couldn't wait for you to know.
The thing was, your father thought that the one who could be in danger was you, his precious daughter since Apollo was selfish, arrogant, and immature to have been around for eons. Poseidon could not fully explain the reason The Fates had woven such a destiny for you. So, until things had and could happen at the right time, in the right way, he warned Apollo to be close to you and he knew so well that be such an idiot idea to make him angry.
Before his thoughts could swallow him, Apollo shake them off and sigh to Chiron.
— Right now, I have a bigger problem. I think we've found something.
— Where?
— Here — Chiron frowned, and Apollo looked towards the camp's forest. — My dear friend, you have the Grove of Dodona here, in your playground.
Apollo didn't know that of all the decisions he had made in his life, avoid you was the best one he could make, because even if you had met that day or before, with the things that were about to happen to him, he wouldn't come back as half the man he was.
“Things at the moment, in time” the fates whispered in some place.
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Corruption fic - First Preview
It’s me, ya girl, comin’ at ya with a little preview! No active warnings for this one ☺️
"That's it, I'm cuttin' you off for tonight," Husk said sternly, whisking away your unfinished glass of whiskey. You'd been at the bar for only an hour and you've already downed 5 full glasses.
"Noooo, Husk c'mon...I'm fffffiiiinnee," you babbled, trying to push your head from the countertop unsuccessfully.
It's been a few months since you arrived in Hell after an unfortunate accident that ended in your early demise. But being a devout believer, you were so sure that Heaven would be your final destination. How wrong you were. You woke up in the fiery pit confused and scared, your body had transformed into that of a demon; you had become something you had feared for your entire life. When you first heard about the Hazbin Hotel, you nearly jumped at the opportunity for redemption. If there was even the slightest hope of getting out of here, you were going to take it. But your situation was more than troublesome, considering how you led your life up on Earth. So most nights, you could easily be found sitting on a bar stool, trying desperately to drown your sorrows and distract yourself from the reality you'd found yourself in.
What's worse...not everyone here is evil. It was ingrained into you that everyone down here in Hell deserved to be, they had earned this punishment. But getting to know some of the other residents at the hotel, that couldn't have been further from the truth! Was everything you were taught just complete lie?! For Heaven's sake, Charlie, the literal princess of Hell, was the sweetest and kindest being you've ever had the pleasure of meeting! And Vaggie, a former angel, so devout to Charlie and her dream, you've never seen two people more in love. Angel, although a bit eccentric and over the top, cared deeply for his friends and was ready to fight for them at a moment's notice. It was all...not what you expected, and you had a very difficult time coping with everything that you had been thrust into.
"You're shit faced," Husk snapped back. "Look, I know you're havin' a hard time with all this. But drinking away your issues ain't gonna solve any of 'em. You need to sleep this off." He watched you stumble off the bar stool, your one foot catching the other, resulting in a rather pitiful fall onto the carpet. But you couldn't feel anything, the alcohol helped mask the pain you were sure to feel tomorrow. You couldn't help but giggle at your own clumsiness. "Oh, for fuck's sake..." Husk grumbled.
Before you could even attempt to pull yourself off the ground, you saw a pair of black boots approaching you in a rather hurried manner.
"Woah!" the voice exclaimed, "Are you alright? Here, let me help you!" In no time, your limp body went from lying on the lobby floor to being hoisted up and helped back onto the bar stool you fell from. You turned your head to see Lucifer's concerned face staring back at you. "Husk, what happened?"
"She's drunk," the cat demon explained, "I told her she was done drinkin' for the night and she ate shit trying to stand up. I was about to help her back to her room-"
All of a sudden, a shadowy presence started to form behind the bar. A static filled laugh was heard before Alastor had popped up, startling the bar tender. "Husker, my good man!," the radio demon bellowed, "it seems as though I am in need of your assistance."
"Fuck! Why can't you just walk in here like a normal fucking person?" Husk grumbled.
Alastor only responded with a light chuckle before fixing his attention on you. "My, my, what have we here?" Alastor taunted. You could have sworn you heard a low growl coming from Lucifer beside you. "I say, my dear, I've never seen you look worse than you do now. What a pity, all of those teachings really didn't help you in the long run, now did they?"
You felt tears threatening to fall from your eyes at Alastor's cruel words. If you were sober, you would have run the other direction as fast as you could. Alastor had been the other real soul you met who you knew with every fiber of your being belonged in this pit. But considering you had no inhibitions and clearly no chance of getting away, you picked your head up and slammed your fists on the table in righteous anger.
"Ohhh, eat shit youuuu *hic* smiling prick!" You tried to stand up once more, only for your legs to buckle underneath you. Luckily, Lucifer had caught you before your face had met with the carpet again. "I-I don't deserve this! 'Least I'm TRYING to redeem m'self!"
Alastor's malicious grin never faltered. "Oh, and what a fabulous job you're doing! I do wonder how a woman such as yourself has fallen so far from grace."
"Fuck off, radio freak," Lucifer snarled, barring his teeth and his eyes shifting to a deep crimson red and yellow.
“Oh, ho ho! Seems as though I’ve struck a nerve,” Alastor mocked. He made his way around the bar, now towering over you and the fallen angel. “Tell me, your highness, what is your fascination with this lost soul, hmm? I’m so utterly curious as to why you would give her the time of day when all she does is wallow in her self pity and-”
“I. SAID. FUCK. OFF.” the king spat, his eyes now changing into a solid red and his voice deepening to match his threat. Though your vision was hazy, you noticed his horns had bursted out from his temples. Whether it was the alcohol or something else entirely, your face suddenly felt very, very hot. “Don’t make me repeat myself again.”
Despite the immense danger, Alastor could only muster a sly grin. “It’s very rude to ignore my question.”
“I don’t have to do anything for you! Or have you forgotten who you’re talking to?” The way Lucifer spoke sent a shiver down your spine. “The only reason that you’re not a mangled corpse on the ground right now is because of my daughter. So if you want to stay in one piece, I’d walk away right now if I were you…”
The two mens’ faces were just inches away from each other now. Alastor’s eye twitched as he glared back at Lucifer with pure distain. His eyes shifted to you only for a brief moment before standing up straight and smirking to himself.
“I suppose it really is no business of mine as to how you choose to mingle with the guests here,” the radio demon resolved. He turned around to walk away, but not before glancing at you once more over his shoulder. “They’re lost causes anyway. Come along, Husker!”
Lucifer’s demonic traits disappeared as Alastor finally left the parlor. “I hate that man.” He looked at Husk empathetically. “If I could break your arrangement with him, I would. I’m sorry. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.” With that, Husk nodded and followed the radio demon down the hall, leaving you and Lucifer alone at the now empty bar.
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lieutenantfloyd · 1 month
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CRAWL - Feyd Rautha x Reader
[A sequel to Creature]
Word Count: 1.5k
Rating: Mature
Summary: A journey marred with horrors is reaching its divine conclusion. Now, you must reemerge and claim what’s yours.
Warnings: Major character deaths, blood, violence, torture, religious themes, domestic violence, implied Stockholm syndrome, heavy canon divergence, pregnancy, psychopaths in love. Feyd and reader very much a match made in hell. (This is a dark fic. Please heed the tags!)
Authors Note: I'm making it known that I never write more for my oneshots, but this story has literally had me in a chokehold for two months. Because of that (along with the fact that Creature is my most popular fic to date) it only felt fair to give it an official ending. This fic was also heavily inspired by Take Me Back To Eden by Sleep Token.
Read on AO3
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The time since your ceremony has been counted using your instincts alone. 
Days on Geidi Prime are many hours longer than on your home planet of Kaitain. The blackened sun distorts shadows in a way you have yet to get accustomed to, seeing as you’d only seen the world outside the Harkonnen palace twice since your arrival.
With his sexual vulnerability made obvious to you on your first night together, Feyd-Rautha had taken it upon himself to re-correct the dynamics of your union. He has conducted this in the only way he knows how—frigid isolation punctuated by crippling violence.
It didn’t take long for the cracks to appear in your mental state, and it was an even shorter time until he broke you completely. Laying alone in a featureless room, you wished you were somehow stronger. Able to fight back physically, or at least shield your mind from his attacks. Nothing in your life was left up to chance, and you couldn’t help but begin to wonder if the skills you pleaded for were purposefully left out of your lengthy Bene Gesserit training. Even if this wasn’t the work of careful planning by The Sisterhood, the visions soon made clear to you how this agony was the only way forward. The sole path towards destiny.
It was only as the nature of his punishments shifted that you realized your apparent weaknesses were truly a gift in disguise. Each bloodied mark laid on your skin was now a wordless promise. Feyd-Rautha had brought diligent ruin to who you once were, working in blessed tandem with your visions to quiet even your smallest urge to resist.
Time moved faster after this, if only because it now went uncounted.
Your days were spent lurching in and out of consciousness. The pain inflicted by your demented husband brought forth more forbidden knowledge, and together they took complete hold of your body and mind. It was only a matter of time until reality became wholly indecipherable.
-
You come back suddenly. A shiver jolts down your spine as definitive reality forces the horrors out of your mind. No longer inside that desolate room, you languish in the silks of Feyd-Rautha’s bed.  Your senses have heightened greatly in however long you’ve been away, and your palms have grown ravenous for a blade. It was all clear to you now. Endless possibilities take the form of paths, the fate of the Imperium lies in which artery you choose to follow.
You reach outward with a newfound steadiness, waking your fated groom from his rest. His skin—porcelain in both pigment and temperature—scorches your own as he pulls you atop him.
He’s molded you in his image. A perfect creature with teeth that will tear flesh from bone with a mind as sharp as his blades.
Now, only pleasure remains.
-
The busy air is still like an ocean suddenly devoid of its moon. No longer waking up with ringing ears, you’d nearly forgotten what mournful screams filling silence sounded like. Behind you, Feyd-Rautha’s blade is buried deep in Paul’s beatless chest. The remaining members of the reemerged House Atriedes were subdued while you granted his most fanatical followers the gift of joining Paul in death.
Your sharp eyes barely grace your sister Irulan before she steps behind her father with a loud gasp. You wished for nothing more in that moment than to see yourself through their eyes—the ones widened in total horror.
It was after your reawakening that you learned how your visions of clandestine conversations and plans within plans were not just mere visions at all, but memories of before and prophecies set ahead. You weren’t sure how much your kith and kin knew about what you’d become, but you couldn’t wait to deliver your sermon.
“I’m sorry to hear about your Baron.” The emperor voices carefully. Testing the waters with a question directed towards House Harkonnen’s infamous brothers. You don’t miss his slight—how foolish it is to pretend as if surrendering his own blood to the monsters didn’t turn you into something even worse. When neither Feyd nor Rabban answer, you take the floor.
“Like Paul, it was a quick death brought on by his own shortcomings. Both deaths are unworthy of sorrow, especially from someone in your—position.” you taunt.
For those outside of Geidi Prime, The details regarding the Baron’s last moments are muddy and confusing. You see questions of who and how dance across the Emperor's eyes but you don’t answer. When one wretched being is divided between two bodies, the action of one is the doings of both.
“Well, congratulations on your ascension to the throne, Baron Feyd-Rautha.” The Emperor responds curtly. It's another slight towards you, but this time you yourself don’t bite.
“Don’t placate us.” Feyd-Rautha threatens as he steps in front of you, purposefully mirroring Irulan’s and Shaddam’s stance.
“With his death, my uncle has given me what’s always been mine,” he starts “and now you must do the same,” you finish. Another gasp escapes Irulan as the Bene Gesserit cry out. The Emperor doesn’t flinch.
"Do you want to commence the honors, or shall I?" Feyd asks as you step past him. Your knife already coated in the blood of your father before his sentence draws to a close.
-
Irulan, in exchange for her life, agreed to a transition of power and self-exile on Kaitain. There’s no ceremony when signet rings stamp decrees, just as there’s no theatrics when you and Feyd-Rautha receive the titles that grant you joint control of the known universe.
When her part is done, Harkonnen soldiers are quick to usher Irulan away. Whatever happens to her now is at their discretion, but you still hope they’re gentle. A thought that confirms the small soft spot for your older sister as the last remaining remnant of who you once were.
You board the Guild ship with one thing on your mind. A competing mix of adrenaline and relief threatens to throw you off balance with each step. Still, you march onward. Smiling as Feyd-Rautha instantly appears at your side. He places a firm hand on the small of your back while his dark eyes scan you over. You welcome his touch, the months of pain and agony brought on by his hands now heavily distorted in your mind. As such, both large and small displays of affection had become common between you both. Though the intensity of his affection had grown greatly since your personal physician informed him you were in the early stages of carrying an heir.
Hesitantly he removes his hand. allowing you to ascend the final steps alone. You sink into your father's throne only seconds before Feyd takes claim of the empty floor space in front of you.
Instantly the same vision from the night of your ceremony comes back to you, only this time it’s stitched together with your own memories. 
Staring down at Vladimir Harkonnen as he lay dying on the concrete just beyond that disgusting tub he dared to invite you into. The look of overwhelming horror in the eyes of each member of your former great House as you reunited today. Your current view from atop these gold steps.  
Each aspect blurs into one complete image. Feeling you shudder, Feyd-Rautha finds your hand and guides it gently to his chest. You share only the briefest look, but you see in his eyes that he recognizes this moment as well. You place a kiss to his temple, and after a steadying breath, he motions for the last of Paul’s fighters to be brought before you.
Your soldiers stop a few steps down from you, but Feyd beckons them closer so the man is abandoned to the right of Feyd and directly in front of you.   Leaning forward, you tilt the fighter’s head upward with the tip of your blade until his eyes meet yours. Beyond his teary heartbreak, a fire is still smoldering. You smile at this sign of a true fighter. Crimson blood catches the light, glistening against your ink-colored teeth.
"Stilgar..." you breathe, your voice turns each syllable to nothing more than a hiss.
You and Feyd move in tandem, allowing you to stretch further forward, though he ensures your soft hand never leaves his chest. Your blade digs further into the underside of Stilgar’s chin until you're given enough purchase to run your sharpened teeth across his neck. He doesn't flinch as you nip the rough, tanned skin laid across his jugular and carotid artery.
This one is strong. Feyd could make such a beautiful example out of him.
Pulling away from Stilgar, you only briefly consider keeping him as a pet before catching sight of Feyd-Rautha. He stares up at you with adoring eyes, though the rest of his striking features are twisted as he snarls in jealousy. Never one to deny Feyd even a single one of his desires, you offer him your blade’s handle.
"Do you want to commence the honors, or shall I?" you purr into his ear. 
Your question is answered only by the heavy weight of the knife easing away as it's taken from your hand.
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bippiti · 3 months
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505 cl16
where you reminisce on your first love
wc 3k
an done for my 1.2k event! first fic in the series, lmk if you wanna be tagged and as always pls like + rb<3
(starts in 2014, ends in 2024ish)
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i'm going back to 505
you rushed down the road, feet peddling as hard as they could as you biked down the street. your eyes glanced down to your watch, squinting before you read the time. great. you were going to be late.
you thought that was you’re biggest problem, and then a new one came crashing onto you, literally.
while you were busy checking the time, you failed too notice someone else running in your direction. you don't know what had them too preoccupied to notice you- but you could technically say the same thing about yourself so-
you were bought back to the moment by the stinging you started to feel on your knees, you hissed looking down and seeing red. ugh
you began to apologize, looking up and stopping mid sentence.
wow. he was pretty. really pretty
you slapped yourself mentally, wincing while standing up. it was definitely going to scar. you reached your hand down to help the mysterious boy up, who sharply inhaled when your hands met. he had scraped his hands up pretty bad when you guys collided.
"i'm so sorry again"
"you're completely fine, i should've been paying more attention" he said while laughing
he has nice laugh
"anyway, i think i should properly introduce myself, i'm charles le clerc" this time he was the one to extend his hand out
"y/n l/n, nice to meet you" you smiled as you shook hands
then you remembered what had gotten you into this mess. you checked your watch again. you were definitely late now.
"i'm so sorry charles but im running late to a painting class, i really need to go" you picked up your bike, kicking the dust off of it.
"wait i am too, are you going to mme. callarios?"
you looked back at him in shock. "how did you know"
he shook his head, "you're going in the wrong direction, since we're heading the same way mind if i show you?"
you didn't see why not, so he climbed in front of you and began to head towards your class
-
if it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive
the bike halted as you reached your destination. building 505. you stared at each other nervously before walking in. the class had started at 1pm, and it was nearing 2 when you arrived. granted, it was a 4 hour class but still.
you cringed internally as you felt all eyes on you when you opened the doors to the class.
"y/n, charles! great to see you. we've split up into partners, so you both will have to work together. decide who will be the painter and who will be the model for the first piece. switch in an hour and a half!" she explained quickly, ushering you both to the only empty table.
you both sat across from each other, and after a small game of rock paper scissors, you were adjusting in your seat getting ready to pose for the next 90 minutes.
-
when you look at me like that, my darlin', what did you expect?
you didn't know how you managed to keep a straight face, his stares were piercing into what felt like your soul. you knew that he had to be like this, he was painting you after all. but knowing that didn't help. after silently uttering some words of encouragement to yourself, you maintained a straight face.
after what felt like forever, you heard the timer go off, and with one last stroke of the brush charles was up and you were swapping places. you cracked your knuckles before sitting on the stool. this was gonna have to be the best painting you've ever done.
before you knew it you were hearing to now familiar ring as you finished off the details of his eyes. you stood up, backing away from the piece. not too bad you thought.
after everyone had finished, you went to the room across as they all dried. it was acrylic, so it wouldn't take too long. there were snacks and refreshments scattered throughout the space. grabbing a drink and seat, you started to learn more about charles. he had two brothers, one older and younger. his mom still cut his hair, you thought he might be embarrased but he showed it off proudly.
“all these years and she still hasn't given me a bad haircut”
“if my mom could cut hair like yours, i'd be getting it done by her too”
“you should come by her salon sometime, i think she'd like you”
“really?”
“yeah, she's out of town so next month when she's back”
with those plans made, you collectively went back into the painting room. you both swapped paintings and looked at them for a while.
you gauged his reaction, at first his face was blank and you were scared that you had made him look like a troll or something, but slowly a smile creeped up onto his face, he looked up to you.
“it's really good”
you smiled and looked down to yours, he had gotten your likeliness down to a t. he left clear marks and left the strokes visible.
looking up you saw him searching your eyes for a reaction, just like you had.
“you did so good, i love your painting style”
he seemed relieved when you said that, smiling. as everyone around you began to pack up and leave, you both exchanged numbers before grabbing your paintings and going your separate ways.
-
not shy of a spark
you had texted back and forth a lot since then, and soon enough you found yourself at the doorstep of his moms salon. after being welcomed in you sat down and showed her photos of the haircut you wanted. she nodded, and began to wet your hair
“charles talks about you a lot, you know”
“does he really” you said with a laugh
“he does, i think he likes you dear”
that shut you up, she smiled warmly
“at this age, love is everywhere, make sure you grab it while you can”
you left the appointment with amazing hair and a lot of questions, you didn't think he could possibly like you back. but now, who knows
the knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark
-
I'm going back to 505
you walk into the painting studio, excited with the a dragonfruit in your hand. today was still life day, normally you found it boring but mme. callarios had let everyone bring their own fruit.
you spotted charles when you got in, and lifted your dragonfruit for him to see. he put his hand up, showing off the orange he had started to peel. he tore off a piece for you, and offered it once you got closer.
your hand was cramping as your eyes continued to squint at the pink fruit in front of you. you regretted picking dragon fruit barely half an hour in, the seeds and the outer skin were proving difficult to paint accurately, you glanced over to charles, his was coming along nicely. you ended up pushing through the ugly phase and were somewhat proud of the piece. it had definitely been your most challenging one so far
-
If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive
you were biking to charles' place, over the weeks you had both become closer, and he wanted to cook for you. you were somewhat scared, charles didn't seem like michelin star material, but maybe he'd surprise you.
he did end up surprising you, but not in the way that you thought.
pasta was on the menu for the afternoon, and you sat on the counter as he went around getting all the ingredients ready. basil, pine nuts, garlic, and olive oil were all pushed onto an island before he began on the pasta. getting out the flour and egg, he began to knead the dough together.
he looked nice in moments like this, comfortable. you liked to think that maybe you could see more of him like this, when he's quiet and the silence isn't awkward. existing together in his apartment kitchen. once he was done cutting the dough into pieces, he salted the water and dropped the pasta in. he came over to you and you both began talking.
you ended up getting so immersed in the conversation that the pasta was forgotten- at least until it was too late. you glanced over to the stove, eyes widening as you saw smoke rising from the pan. you both jumped up and yanked it off the gas, bringing it to the sink. what was going to be amazing pasta was now a charred rock. you couldn't help but laugh before getting side eyed by charles.
"i guess we're going to have to order pizza instead"
you ended up binging some random show you found on netflix, and as a souvenir took home the rock of burnt pasta, you named it char, short for charles charcoal
-
In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side
charles had become a f3 driver now, and hadn't been in monaco for a bit. you watched all his races, and you were the first person he called after his first win in pau-ville. he was excited, and so were you.
you're feelings for him had kept growing, and you couldn't help it, no matter how much you tried. you loved everything about him, his eyes, and how they'd light up when he saw you, his smile, and the dimples that formed when he did. his hair, his voice, just him.
soon enough he was back in monaco and you were excited to see him.
you grabbed coffee and began walking around the streets, stopping at building 505, walking into the currently empty studio. you looked around some of the paintings before sitting on some stools.
you knew him too well now, 3 years of friendship will do that. he was nervous, when he bought his hand up to his face you had saw he had bitten his nails. you didn't bring it up, but before you could say anything he started to speak
"i've been trying to figure out how i should say this for the longest time. i've known for a while now, but it really hit me in pau. i couldn't have don't any of this without you, i don't even think i'd be who i am without you y/n. and now that i'm back i can' t handle not telling you. i like you, i really like you"
you were stunned for a minute, before you kicked back the stool you were sitting in and kissed him. the puzzles had fallen into place, you couldn't believe it.
he deepened the kiss, bringing his hand to your waist as you sat in his lap. your fingers ran through his hair, tugging as you began to roll your hips against his.
you pulled away, panting. smiling at him before you began to kiss him again, his hands roamed down to your shirt, tugging it up as he separated from you again. you raised your arms, and took his off as well. a silent beat skipped between you both and you laughed
"are we really about to do this right now"
"yeah, i think we are"
you pulled him closer to you once again, his tongue slipped int your mouth effortlessly and you almost moaned, god he knew how to make you melt.
soon enough, the rest of your clothes followed suit and you were on the cool tile floor. as his hand started to trace your inner thigh you grabbed his hand. he looked up, somewhat confused but before he could say anything you spoke,
'i've never done this before"
he relaxes almost immediately, and smiles down at you
"neither have i"
you weren't ashamed to admit you were shocked, sopmeone like him.. never? not once?
he could see the gears turning in his head and he spoke up
"there were girls now and then sure, but i always wanted it to be you, it's always been you honestly"
you couldn't see yourself rn, but you were sure you were giving im heart eyes by now.
"it was the same for me too actually" you said sheepishly
"was it really?
"yeah, it was" and with that you bought your hands up to his shoulder, flipping him onto the floor. you kissed him softly, turning his face to kiss along his jaw, his neck, going further down to his chest, then stomach. pausing for permission, after seeing his nod you pulled down, eyes widening as you saw it. well this was gonna be interesting
you left kisses on his tip, working your way down before you took him all in your mouth. he hit the back of your throat and you almost choked, but hearing the moans coming out of his mouth kept you going. you could feel him start to pulse, and before you could do anything else he was bringing you off of him, kissing your lips as he turned you around.
“can’t have you doing all the work can i cher?” he said as he pulled your underwear down, almost moaning when he looked down at you, all of you.
he traced his hands down your sternum, down to your waist and legs. spreading you open he dipped his face down.
you could feel his tongue inside you, pulsing before he started scissoring you open. he was good- too good at this. you don’t know if you could handle it. soon enough, he was back on top of you, kissing you gently as he lined himself up with your entrance.
he cleaned you up afterwards, he was quiet, soft. you could get used to this
-
but I crumble completely when you cry
it had been months since that night, you and charles had been going strong, but after he joined f2, something changed. his eyes no longer lit up when he saw you, he started buying things for you instead of making them. you’d wake up to your phone being full of messages, but none of them from him.
it hurt. he hurt.
it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when he called you, asking where you were.
you answered, mme. callarios’ place. he said he was going to be there soon.
you felt your heart drop, wether it was excitement or fear, you couldn’t tell.
you knew the minute he stepped through the door it was going to be bad. you could read him like a book. you composed yourself as he came closer, pressing quick kisses to the others cheeks, you painted a smile on your face and smiled at him.
his eyes were full of emotion, for the first time in months. it’s almost funny, you knew it was coming but the moment the words left his mouth you broke down
“i’ve been seeing someone else”
“i see”
at first it didn’t register, not really. a heartbeat later you felt the tears pricking at your eyes. you turned around trying to excuse yourself, but before you could take another step a sob escaped your lips. you started to cry. you couldn’t shut up, why couldn’t you just shut up? you could feel yourself gasping for breath, all the air in the world wasn’t enough for your lungs right now. you were getting lightheaded, knees turning shaky before ultimately giving up on you. the impact resonated around the empty room.
he stepped forward, kneeling down. his stupid, warm hands brushed up against your face, trying to wipe away your tears.
you couldn’t even push him off of you. you really were pathetic.
you managed to fight your way up, shaking and all but running out the door.
never again, you were never going to love anyone like that again
-
i’m going back to 505
you walked into a crowded room. your latest collection had been getting a lot of coverage in the media, and it was the last day it was up for the public. the pieces would be going to the individual buyers first thing tomorrow.
building 505. it no longer made a bitter taste seep into your mouth. it’s crazy to think a decade ago you were standing here painting him, how time flies.
the first few months were the worst. he was the only thing you could think of, you were a broken record. so naturally, you did the one thing that made you feel close to him again, painting. and it saved you
you could get out every thought you were too afraid to say out loud, every emotion you didn’t want to feel with simple strokes on canvas
you didn’t think anything would come of it, honestly. you were meant to go into investment banking, like your parents. the universe had other plans though
one of mme. callarios’ friends was a museum director, and took a liking to your pieces. he asked you to do some works on commission. word got around fast, and now you’ve made a name for yourself as an artist, in some ways all thanks to charles
charles. now he had his dream job, f1. working with the team he used to tell you about, the team he worshipped.
you were happy for him, sometimes you wonder if he was happy for you. you still think of him when you eat pesto, you still keep char in a jar under your bed, you have all of the paintings you made that summer in a closet collecting dust. there were pieces of yourself that you gave to him that will stay his even though you’re done.
none of that matters now though, you turn to someone who’s called your name and start explaining the piece they’ve asked about
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lowkeychenle · 7 months
Text
Cruel Summer [ZCL] (M)
Description: He wants you. Everything to do with you--your heart, your body, all while keeping your friendship. What's a man to do during a 30-day hook up to get you to stay? (This fic is Chenle's POV!)
A/N: this is inspired by 'Cruel Summer' by Taylor Swift, please do listen to this song because it is SO AMAZING.
Genre: Fluff/Smut/Angst (very minimal angst, like u rlly have to squint)
Content Warnings: LOTS OF FLUFF AND SMUT. ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK OKAY. Drinking, alcohol, intoxication, some instances of friends being shitty/pushy Smut warnings: this has so much smut oh my god. anyway, use of pet names 'sunshine,' 'baby,' 'pretty,' and combinations of them, rough, unprotected sex, protected sex, choking, the smut rlly progressively gets softer but kinkier? a wee bit of dacrophyilia, one oral scene (m receiving), and i think that's it...i'm so sorry if I missed one this thing is so fucking long
Word Count: 20,050 (seriously wtf did I DO?!)
Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!Reader (feat. Mark, Haechan, Jaemin, Jeno, and two female OCs, Chaeyoung & Heewon)
Juliet's Masterlist | Requests
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Day 1 | June 1st
Chenle, for his entire life, had always said summer was his favorite season. As time went on and he got older, that sentiment got less and less real to him. Now approaching his 23rd year of life, he’d been around long enough to know things younger Chenle never would’ve dreamed of.
Every single summer since high school graduation, Chenle has invited his friends to his family’s vacation house on the beach—including you, his best friend since middle school. You’d seen him through all his awkward phases, and the best part of his month-long summer excursion was seeing you despite how busy the two of you were throughout the year.
For thirty days, everything was normal. You were around, and he relished in your company.
For thirty days, he was able to forget everything except for you and a handful of other friends.
Not that he could ever not have you at the forefront of his mind. Despite the busy schedules you both endured, you somehow ended up crashing at his house often, or vice versa. He often occupied the other side of your bed and, for a long time, thought it was completely normal despite the very odd reactions some people had when he explained he wasn’t your boyfriend.
Nothing had ever happened. At least, not literally. He’d thought about making a move and kissing you, but he decided it wasn’t worth losing your friendship. Throughout your years together, he’d seen you get in relationships, get your heart broken, and break hearts. You’re comfortable being at your lowest with him, and he builds you back up piece by piece without complaint.
“Chenle,” you call from outside, jogging up to the front door. “Is everything in the car? Jaemin and Jeno are almost here.”
He raises his eyebrows as he glances around his house, wondering if he’s forgetting anything. And without meaning to, he scans over you as if he hasn’t been around you all day. Your skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat from the overwhelming heat outside, and your shorts climb up your thighs with every passing second, but he swears he doesn’t notice.
“I think so. If we’re missing anything, we can just run into town,” he suggests, tagging his fingers on his sides to stop himself from reaching out to you.
Chenle had a little secret—one he hated keeping from you, but had to nonetheless—and it was simply that he was in love with you. It took him years to come to terms with it. After all this time, he accepted it. If he’s around you, the way he acts doesn’t have to change in the slightest. He’s always treated you as more than a best friend, as you’ve done to him, so there’s no reason for him to ruin that…right?
“You good?” You tilt your head at him. “We’re wasting time.”
“We have a whole month,” Chenle retorts.
“And you’re taking away from our first day.” Your eyes narrow, but before he responds, you turn your back on him and rush out the door, yelling at who he assumes is Jaemin finally arriving.
The four of you are driving together, while Mark, Hyuck, Heewon, and Chaeyoung were taking Mark’s car. They’d probably be a bit late, but Chenle didn’t mind.
His favorite thing was road trips—especially if you were involved. Even when Jaemin and Jeno slept in the backseat, you and Chenle had the radio up, the windows down, and you were singing at the top of your lungs. Your best look is when you’re this happy, yelling lyrics without a care in the world. He shouldn’t, but he steals glances at you whenever he can. You sing, looking at him and grabbing his arm and shaking him depending on what songs were on. Giggles pour out of your mouth when he gives you an incredulous look.
The song you replayed the most these days was Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift, and he would never get tired of it. Every time the chorus came on, you swept him up in your performance, and he almost laughed at the way he related to the lyrics.
And I screamed for whatever it's worth
I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?
He wanted more, but he liked you like this. Hands flying into the air as you scream along to the music. Sooner or later, he ends up joining you. Whenever you’re involved, it’s not weird to find Chenle a single step behind you.
Chenle’s family had a large house on the beach. It was split down the middle, and one of his parents’ conditions was that the boys would stay on one side and the girls on the other. They didn’t have a way to prove any different, but everyone respected their rules.
Jaemin and Jeno typically played whatever game console was in the living room while Chenle got to spend a little bit of alone time with you before the rest of the hyper ones got in.
He stands across the kitchen, watching as you unload all of the snacks you brought onto the counter. After a long drive, the sun is setting on the horizon, and the pretty colors reflecting off your skin have him beyond distracted. It wouldn’t be weird for him to hug you. He’s been clingy with you since…well, since he first met you.
“You sure you don’t want any help?” he asks.
“It’s just little things.” You shrug, waving him off. “That drive was…exhausting.”
He laughs, biting down on his bottom lip to stop himself.
“What?” You continue taking boxes out of the bags.
“The drive always knocks you out, but you do the same thing every time anyway.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m gonna sit with Jaem and Jeno. Come out when you’re done?”
You grin at him. “I’ll only be a few more minutes. Go ahead.”
He leaves you in the kitchen, the nightfall creeping into the house and making his eyes heavy. His bed calls to him from upstairs, but he wants to wait for you. And he doesn’t have a choice but to wait for Mark and the rest of the gang, because they’ll have to have a way inside.
When you join him, you’re equally as tired as him. You slump next to him on the couch, resting your head on his shoulder. With your warmth pressed against him, he smiles and wraps his arm around you. Jaemin and Jeno are battling away, sleep not touching them any time soon after the nap they had in the car.
“You okay?” he whispers, careful not to alert the other two.
Nodding, you curl into him further, sighing into his chest. He hugs you, and somehow, you end up curled into a ball on his lap, head buried in his neck. Your breath tickles his skin, but he doesn’t dare disturb you.
He cradles the back of your head, rubbing his thumb on your scalp. When your breathing steadies, he relaxes. You’re asleep, and if he knows himself at all, he’ll be following you in no time. Any time you’re tired after a long day, you curl into him like this, and he’s come to relish in these moments.
His eyes flutter shut, his own exhaustion peeking through. Absent-mindedly, he presses his lips to the top of your head.
“Ew,” Jaemin groans, giving Chenle a disgusted look. “They make rooms for whatever’s going on there.”
Chenle glares at him once, and he purses his lips and turns his attention back to the game.
“Seriously, if you want to go to bed, we’ll wait for the others,” Jeno offers. “We are capable of opening a door.”
Chenle contemplates it for a moment. He knows he should be the one to greet everyone, but the gentle snores escaping you makes him want to cuddle you properly. It wouldn’t be the first time one of you “snuck in” to the other side of the house and stayed with one another. At the end of the day, he couldn’t get enough of you. Your skin is soft beneath his fingertips, and despite everyone knowing how desperately he wants you except for you, he likes to act like it’s a secret.
“Alright,” he mumbles, shifting under you to see if he’ll be able to find a way to hold onto you. “Make sure to lock it when they arrive.”
Jeno and Jaemin don’t say anything else when he lifts you up and walks you down the hall toward his bedroom. He lays you on his bed first, pulling the blankets back to settle you beneath them.
You’re so peaceful like this—face soft, the slightest smile on your lips. He finds himself dragging his thumb along your cheek just to be able to touch you. You’re perfect to him. 
He climbs in next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and tugging you against his chest. You hum quietly, subconsciously turning to him and bury your head in his chest. He grins to himself at the feeling, at the idea of you being so accustomed to him that you’ll want him even in your sleep.
Kissing the top of your head, he lets out a sigh of content before resting back against his pillow.
Day 2 | June 2nd
The morning together was just like any other—you stayed cuddled up until eight came along and the others were whining down the hall about being hungry. Chenle wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone verbally, but the reason he likes these vacations so much is because of the privacy he gets with you.
Yeah, all of your friends are there, but they’re used to the level of clinginess Chenle has with you. His family, on the other hand? If they knew he woke up at 6:30 am and stayed with you wrapped up in his arms for an hour and a half…
“We should go help before they burn down the kitchen,” you murmur, sighing quietly.
“The longer I can stay in bed, the better.” He squeezes you tighter. “Five more minutes.”
You nod in agreement, shuffling closer. His hand rubs up and down your back, gently dragging his nails to help soothe you further. How you’re unaware of his feelings for you is beyond him—he’s always treated you this way. Like you’re the most important person in his life.
Because…news flash, you are.
Eventually, the two of you have to get up. Mark and Heewon are in the kitchen, and you immediately deduct that that’s a mistake. Chenle quickly shoos them from the kitchen, taking over the role of breakfast chef with your help.
While the two of you cook together, he never has to verbally ask you things. You’re in such harmony, it’s like you know every single move he’s going to make before he does.
“So,” Jaemin says, sitting down on one of the stools behind the island. “The girls said they want to go to the bar tonight. You guys down?”
“Tonight?” Your eyebrows pinch, and your lips turn downward. “It’s only day two.”
“Yeah, we’re trying to maximize our fun time,” Jeno interjects, taking a seat next to Jaemin. “We’ve only got thirty days before we return to the real world.”
“Sorry, you’ll have to count me out.” You scrunch up your nose. “But I’ll start doing things tomorrow. I just need to recharge a little more before I go out anywhere.”
Jaemin turns his attention to Chenle, either wanting him to convince you to go, or to see if Chenle will also be staying in.
“Sorry, Jaem.” Chenle shrugs. “I’m not leaving her here by herself.”
You appreciatively poke his side, something the other two boys don’t see, but it makes his heart flutter nonetheless.
“You two are only forgiven because of the breakfast you’re making. We expect hangover breakfasts tomorrow, too.” Jaemin crosses his arms over his chest and pouts.
“We’ll see.” Chenle continues chopping the onion, sending a quick smile your way when you finish washing the green peppers and putting them down in front of him.
He figured he’d be used to you by now—to the feelings he’s harbored for so long. But every time you prove, once again, that you know him just as well as you know yourself, it makes him want you so much more.
Chenle ended up making dinner, too, which was simply microwaving ramen for each person until everyone was content. Mark, Hyuck, Jaem, Jeno, Heewon, and Chaeyoung were all leaving by six, swearing they wouldn’t be home too late.
“Make them order pizza or something,” you suggest to him as you dry the dishes he washes. “They’re grown adults with money.”
“I kinda like this,” he admits.
“Cooking for the same friends you’ve been cooking for since 7th grade?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he snorts.
“Cooking for people in general,” he corrects. “And I like that you’re here to help me. Or just here at all.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t mean it like that. Let me appreciate your company, asshole.” He finishes up the last dish and turns the water off before handing it to you.
You hum in response, quickly drying it before setting it in the cupboard where it goes. Turning toward him, you lean the small of your back on the counter while your hands grip the edge. Your gaze scans over him, and he swears he feels his spine twist in the most delicate of ways. He loves when you look at him, and whenever you study him, he wonders what kind of lessons he teaches you.
“Thanks for staying back with me,” you say.
“Of course.” He waves you off. “I didn’t want to go to the bar anyway.”
“So, what do we do?”
Chenle chuckles. “Not a clue. The possibilities are endless, I guess.”
“Do you still have that karaoke machine?” You narrow your eyes at him as you await his response.
“Is that even a question? Hell yeah, I do. We can get it set up?”
The smile spreading across your face makes his heart skip, and despite how much he wants to reach out for your hand to pull you down the hall, all he does is gesture to the direction you need to go in.
You clap your hands, quickly following his lead.
This room used to be an office of sorts, but has since evolved now that Chenle’s parents don’t come here anymore. The desk has been pushed against the wall next to the TV, and a large couch takes up the majority of the room. A long time ago, he thought it’d be funny to buy a karaoke machine after he’d realized how much he likes to sing, and it just so happened that you felt the same way.
Every time the two of you come here, it’s a must. However, he hasn’t had the opportunity to have it be just you. Someone else was always intruding on his time, at least for the past few years.
Part of the reason he fell for you in the first place was because of how similar you were to him. You shared similar interests and passions that he didn’t usually find in other people. That, or he wasn’t looking once he realized how much he wanted you.
He loves music, and in every piece he hears, he finds you.
You deeply relate to the music you enjoy, and he admires that about you as well. You pick the songs for the evening, and he has no qualms. He’d rather listen to your picks on repeat than try and go off on his own.
The night starts off easy, some of the songs you pick are classics that you make him do every time. After three songs, you picked Cruel Summer. He knows all the lyrics by now—he memorizes everything that comes out of your pretty lips, regardless of if it’s a song or not. He’ll never forget those lyrics for as long as he lives.
Your laugh is so damn contagious. He tries his best to pull that sound from you every chance he gets, but the air around you is…bittersweet. These moments are his favorite—where he gets to have fun with you and forget the rest of the world exists. But they also make him want you more, and everything you could give him. He wants to be yours, and nights like these prove to him that you’re not.
Three songs in, and you’re both panting and laughing your asses off. Karaoke is never just singing—no, you dance until your legs feel like they’ll give out. That’s Chenle’s number one rule, that it’s never enough to sing the songs. You’ve got to perform them.
But Cruel Summer starts, and he can’t help but see the irony of you singing it in his presence. Or him joining you in it.
Fever dream high in the quiet of the night
You know that I caught it
He sings along, but he quiets himself. Listening to you has become one of his favorite pastimes, so he’ll take any opportunity he can. He dances with you, spins you around, and begs any sort of higher power that he can have you like this forever.
And it's new, the shape of your body
It's blue, the feeling I've got
And it's ooh, whoa, oh
It's a cruel summer
It's cool, that's what I tell 'em
No rules in breakable heaven
A gold gleam catches in the dim lighting when he twirls you in a circle, and he grins. He loves when you wear that bracelet—which is all the time, because he’s got one nearly identical, but yours has his name on it and his has yours.
The chorus makes him move around the room, hyping you up at every chance he has. You laugh through the lyrics, out of breath from the previous songs, too.
So cut the headlights, summer's a knife
I'm always waiting for you just to cut to the bone
Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes
And if I bleed, you'll be the last to know
God, he fucking loves you.
The room fades around him while he’s having fun with you, and he wishes he could spend every moment this way. With the excited glow to you, the carefree laughter, the genuine fun.
I'm drunk in the back of the car
And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh)
Said, "I'm fine," but it wasn't true
I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you
And I snuck in through the garden gate
Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh)
As the lyrics pick up, he joins in for real. This part of the song is his favorite, because the next lyrics are exactly what he wants to say to you but can’t work up the courage to do it.
And I screamed for whatever it's worth
"I love you," ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?
He imagines hearing those words from you, too full of emotion to keep them in any longer. You yell the lyrics between laughter, throwing your head back and dancing as if you’ve been drinking. He watches you so fondly, he’s sure you’ll notice. 
The chorus comes back, and you walk up to him like you’re serenading him, making dramatic hand motions while he laughs at you. His whole body buzzes when you’re like this. When everything else fades away and it’s just the two of you.
I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you
And I snuck in through the garden gate
Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh)
Something changes. He doesn’t notice at first, but your expression changes. The song is about to end, and his heart lurches violently in his chest.
And I screamed for whatever it's worth
"I love you," ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?
He looks at you as the last lyrics pour from your mouth, the wide smile on your face dissipating when you see how close he is to you. Instead of yelling them like you did last time, the words trail off, barely leaving your mouth as a whisper. His chest heaves from the energy expended, yours mirroring his. He feels like he’s on cloud nine, the adrenaline sitting on top of his lungs as his brain malfunctions on what to do next.
Honestly, he doesn’t know who does it. Someone leans forward, and your lips are locked. Passion lingers, desperation tugging at his very soul at the feeling of your arms around him. His heart pounds in his ears, almost blocking out how Cruel Summer’s instrumental repeats in the background.
He clenches his fists in the fabric of your shirt, praying, hoping this isn’t one of his bullshit dreams. Without any idea how it happened, he relishes in the softness of your mouth, the way you accept his tongue so easily, and the soft moan you let out when he tugs on your bottom lip gently.
He pants harder now, forehead against yours as he tries to figure out what the hell he should do. You should stop. All of this is a mistake—he didn’t want his first time with you to be like this, where his want makes his pants tighter in record time. The only logical thought in his brain is that damn sound you just made and how he can drag it from you again and again.
Thunder booms in his veins as he pulls you back to him, the second he was without your kiss much too long. You press yourself to him, digging your nails into his shoulders. It’s almost like he has no control over his actions at the moment, the long-standing need for you clouding his judgment.
The pretty, pretty sound you make when he spins you around and practically slams the small of your back against the edge of his desk has him forgetting everything else exists. It’s only you. You and how fucking badly he wants you.
He doesn’t dare speak a word.
Inhaling sharply, he sweeps his arm across all the miscellaneous junk on top of it, successfully and messily clearing a spot for you to sit. You take the hint, hoisting yourself up on the edge and spreading your legs to give him room.
Heat pulses through the room, sending waves through his body. He wants to peel all of his clothes off, have you naked beneath him, and take you in all the ways he’s dreamed off. The glimpse of your black panties below that damn skirt has him more than ready for you.
You tug him closer, interrupting the way he stares at your core. His cock already strains, begging to be buried inside you. He’s not sure where the hell this side of him came from, but the dark gleam in your eyes has him forgetting there’s anything wrong with it.
Sweat already arises on his skin, the mere thought of having you this way enough to send him into a fucking cardiac arrest. There’s no time to be timid—he reaches beneath your skirt to find the hem of your panties, mouths still clashing beautifully.
Without interrupting the kiss, you nod, lifting your hips up so he can rip the skimpy fabric from your body.
Your hands fly down to his pants, and his heart starts doing backflips. Neither of you has said a word, and he thinks for a moment that he should…just to make sure he’s what you want. But at the same time, he figures you know as much as he does how this is a long time coming.
“Do you—”
“I need you right fucking now,” you murmur, shaky fingers fumbling with the button of his jeans. “Fuck, help me.”
His mouth waters. He wishes he could take his time with you, but having you squirming and asking for him to be inside you makes him crazy. Without wasting another second, he reaches down and pushes his pants down to the middle of his thighs. He gasps when you grab him over his boxers, gripping him like you’ve done this exact thing with him hundreds of times.
God, he can’t fucking take it anymore. Pushing your back down against the desk, he flips your skirt up to expose your slick entrance to him. One of his hands grips your hip and digs his nails into your skin, and the other pushes his boxers down.
He debates with himself for a second on how he should do this. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, but he’ll really fucking explode if he’s not inside you within the next ten seconds. He plans on being good, on giving you a second to adjust to him, but when he gently starts pushing inside you, your wetness gushes around him.
Your walls stretch to accommodate him, and your back arches on the wood, and your mouth falls open, and suddenly he can’t control himself. If he gives himself a few seconds to enjoy you while he’s buried so deep, he’ll never be able to let you go. He’ll need to be inside all the time, and that doesn’t sound much like best friends.
Your moans spill recklessly past your lips, the jolt of his thrusts distorting the sound. Fuck, he loves you, but he never imagined sex could feel this good. You flutter around him, urging his cock to move faster, and he does his best to oblige. The desk slams into the wall over and over again, the sound almost as erotic as the sight before him.
You try and fail to find something to hold onto, and when he sees your friendship bracelet—the one with his fucking name on it—he loses it. He puts his hand beneath your neck, pulling you up so you’re face to face. Your face is blissed out, eyes barely staying open as he gives you everything he’s got.
His skin is sticky with sweat, the clothes uncomfortably clinging to his back, he reaches between the two of you, growing frustrated that he left your skirt on. He throbs inside you, desperate to reach his end, so gives the fabric a firm tug, and you gape when it rips at the seam. He half-expects you to scold him for ruining a perfectly good outfit, but instead, your hips buck toward his. 
A tingling sensation forms at the base of his length, and he knows it’s only a matter of seconds before he reaches completion. Without wasting another second, his hand dives between your legs, your arousal making his thumb glide effortlessly across your clit.
Your body shakes, and you lean forward to bury your head in his neck, biting down on his shoulder to contain yourself. He can’t hold back his moans, moving just a bit faster and adjusting his angle to increase your pleasure.
“Fuck, Ch—”
He tangles his fingers in your hair and tugs you back to watch your face.
“Fu—Close,” you whine, lifting your hips to match his thrusts. “I’m cu—”
You cut yourself off with a scream of pleasure, and he swears your walls clamp down on him so tightly, his cock will get stuck. His thrusts falter at the overwhelming feeling of your euphoria, and as soon as it hits you, he’s spurting inside you.
He kisses up the side of your neck, barely breathing properly as he regains his composure. His orgasm wracks his body, pulsing throughout his veins and his bones.
You grasp onto him for dear life, and he returns your embrace. His chest is against yours, both hearts pounding.
And then reality sets in. The music returns to his ears, the beat to Cruel Summer still on a loop, and he wonders how closely you relate to the lyrics.
“Um,” you say breathlessly. “Wow.”
“That…”
“Happened.” You nod, a dazed look on your face as you blink past the shock.
He gulps, wishing that best friend telepathy was real at a time like this. How does he respond to that? Did you enjoy it? Are you already regretting it?
“Chenle,” you murmur.
“Yeah?”
“You’re still…inside me.”
His face burns, and he quickly pulls out of you, trying not to look at the mess he knows is between your legs. He turns away from you to settle himself back in his pants, and he finds your panties on the ground where he threw them.
He gives them to you, and you awkwardly shuffle off the desk before sliding the fabric back up your legs. But he doesn’t want you to…walk away. He wants to take you back to his bed and cuddle you to sleep. To take care of you like he should after such an intimate moment.
Surely, he can’t kiss you, can he?
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Seriously?” You frown at him. “That’s what you want to ask me right now?”
“I don’t really know how to—”
The front door opens, just down the hall as your drunk group of friends arrives back. Your face drops, and you curse under your breath.
“Damn it.” You frantically look around for something to cover your lower half before you go.
Guilt tears at Chenle’s chest—not just because of the ripped skirt, but because it seems like you’re not very happy with your decision. The last thing he ever wanted was to push you into anything. He grabs a blanket from the couch on the other side of the room and hands it to you.
“Chenle! (Y/N)!” Jaemin’s hammered voice booms across the house. 
“(Y/N), can we just—”
“Not now, Chenle.” You shake your head, wrapping yourself up in the blanket and grabbing the split fabric to hide it.
You loop your fingers in his belt loops to tug him close to you, and his jaw drops as he stumbles over. Instead of doing any of the things he wanted you to, you tuck his shirt into his jeans. He’s about to ask you what you’re doing, but then he feels how soaked it is.
Again, his face is on fire. How the hell is he supposed to do this?
He runs his fingers through your hair to fix the tangles, heart racing. As soon as he takes a step away from you, the door opens. Jaemin pours in without any concern.
“Well,” you say, chuckling. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“(Y/N), wait—” Chenle reaches out to you but decides at the last minute to stop, knowing how much is riding on that damn blanket staying put.
“Goodnight, Chenle.” You glance at him, eyes wide and swirling with something he can’t quite put his finger on.
“It smells weird in here,” Jaemin grumbles as he waddles around the room. “Why?”
“Dunno,” Chenle replies with a grimace. “It’s because you’re drunk. Off to bed with all of us.”
Yep…except he’ll be alone, when all he wants is to be curled up with you.
Day 3 | June 3rd
When Chenle wakes up in the morning, he’s pretty sure everything was a dream. He messes with the bracelet latched on his wrist, gulping at the memory of you. How is he supposed to act normally now?
He has to talk to you. Figure out what the hell you’re thinking, because if you regret it, it might break his heart, but he’ll know how you feel about him. You’ve told each other stories of previous relationships, hook-ups, whatever just came out randomly. He never imagined he’d be one of those hook-ups.
And now his bed is all too empty without you, and it’s only day three. 
Images of the night before flash through his mind, and he analyzes everything he sees to try and figure out what he did wrong. If he did something wrong. You almost always sleep next to him, so if this persists, the others will begin to notice, too.
He gets out of bed, hands shoved into the pockets of his pajama pants as he makes his way to the kitchen. Everyone else is awake, the guys and Heewon sitting on the couch. You and Chaeyoung were nowhere to be found, but he tried his best to make it nonchalant. He didn’t want everyone to know he messed up with you. That explanation would be hard.
He glances in the kitchen and still doesn’t see you or your closest friend (besides him, obviously), so he sighs and sits on the far end of the couch. The awkwardness creeps in, like the whole group secretly knows what you two did. Like they’re silently judging him for single-handedly ruining your friendship.
“Who shit in your cheerios?” Hyuck asks, shifting forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
“Huh?” Chenle frowns. “Nothing happened. I’m just tired.”
“Oh, (Y/N) said you weren’t feeling well last night. She and Chaeyoung went to town to grab some medicine or something.” Mark stretches before getting up to go into the kitchen. “She seemed worried, are you okay?”
Chenle gulps, and he hopes it’s not noticeable. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”
Thankfully, they continue their conversation. He can relax for a bit, and then when you come back, he’ll pull you aside. After all, he won’t let this fester. He needs to talk to you—to find out if you view him any differently since he crossed that line with you. The last thing he wants is for anything to change. He likes your friendship the way it is, but he’s also been so desperately in love with you for so long that hope clings to him like a leech.
The door opens, and his head jolts toward it when he hears your laugh. His hands clench into fists, and he’s halfway certain he looks like a lost puppy right now.
The second you see him, he watches your expression change. Your giggle stops halfway through, and you clear your throat as you give him the same wide-eyed look you gave him last night. He wants to jump up and tell you things don’t have to change, maybe even beg you for your forgiveness and say he’ll do anything to keep you in his life—
You and Chaeyoung disappear into the kitchen, and Mark comes back in shortly after. Chenle’s getting antsy, his anxiety sparking at the bottom of his spine as his foot taps on the floor. If he jolts up and runs after you, everyone will know something is wrong.
And if they all know, it’s only a matter of time before Jaemin opens his big mouth, and then you’ll be forever embarrassed by the idea of sleeping with Chenle, and summer vacations will never be the same.
So he gives you five minutes.
“...need to figure things out.” Chaeyoung’s voice is hushed, standing next to you on the far end of the kitchen.
“Yeah, tell me about it. But I—” You stop the moment you catch Chenle in the room.
“I think Jeno needs me for something,” Chaeyoung mentions, sending a small smile his way before darting out of the room. He sighs. If you told Chaeyoung, you’re probably more freaked out than he thought.
You look down at your feet as he approaches you.
“We need to talk about this,” he mutters. “I don’t like feeling like I fucked up.”
Your gaze darts up to his, your eyebrows furrowed as you scan over his face. “This isn’t really the best place to talk, Le. Any of them could walk in right now.’
“I’m not just—I’m not going to forget about it. It happened, okay? And it’s okay if you’re upset by it and you never want to be near me again, but I…I need to know. The silence is killing me.” He realizes it hasn’t been that long, but sleeping alone really got to him.
“Why would you think I’m upset?” you ask.
“You practically ran away from me last night. And you usually sleep with me, and you didn’t. You didn’t even tell me you were going anywhere this morning.”
“I figured you’d know where I was going.” You cross your arms over your chest, glancing away from him.
“How could I possibly have known?” he inquires.
“Chenle…” You let out a small laugh. “You…you came inside me last night. Chaeyoung took me to buy Plan B.”
His jaw drops as he flounders for words. Cheeks burning, he drops his head into his hands and sighs. “I’m a fucking idiot. I didn’t even realize, I was so—I’m so sorry, I don’t even know why I would ever—”
“Relax.” You put your hands on his shoulders. “I was the one who kissed you. You’re psyching yourself out, because I don’t regret it or anything like that. Actually, I’d…kinda like to do it again.”
Alarm bells ring in his head, and his eyeballs feel like they’re about to pop out of his skull when he looks at you fast enough to give himself whiplash.
“You want to…” he trails off, lowering his voice. “...have sex with me again?”
“I mean, only if you want to.” You chew the inside of your cheek, fidgeting with your fingers. Quickly, you continue, “Obviously, nothing has to change. Like, I’m not asking you for…a relationship or anything. There won’t be any rules. Except the fact that you have to…you know, use a condom, but we could just…have a good summer.”
His heart sinks. What you’re proposing is not what he wants. It further proves to him you don’t reciprocate the feelings that led him to his recklessness last night. He shouldn’t agree. No, he should say he’d prefer to keep anything…sexual…out of your friendship, but God damn it, he was tired of leaving his love on the side. Maybe he can’t tell you out loud, but if you’re okay with sleeping with him, he’ll show you.
“Chenle?” you whisper. “I’m sorry if that’s too much. You can forget I said anything.”
You scramble to gather yourself before you try to turn away from him. He reaches out and grabs your wrist, tugging you back to him.
“I wasn’t expecting that.” He pauses, sighing. “Are you sure, (Y/N)? This could get messy.”
“I know I said no rules, but I’m a little bit of a control freak—”
“You act like this is the first time I’ve met you.” Chenle chuckles.
You glare at him before continuing. “Anyway. Nobody can know. I told Chae, but she had to drive me so she doesn’t count. Plus, she won’t tell the others. So, we act normal around our friends, okay? And we don’t…talk about it. Things happen as they will, and we wait until at least the end of June to figure things out.”
“It sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this,” he admits, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.
“We don’t have to change. But I did like yesterday, and it’s been so long since someone’s made me—” you cut yourself off, pressing your lips into a line. “You know what I mean.”
“I…Yeah, I do know you’ve been with trash guys—”
You gently smack his chest, glaring at him. “That was not permission for a dig.”
He holds his hands up in mock surrender, his heart melting in his chest when he sees the smile spread on your face. Maybe you don’t have feelings for him, but you don’t hate him—that’ll be enough to get him through this. At least for a while.
“So, we’re good?” You look up at him.
He’s no match for you. Not in any case or situation. His heart belongs to you, and it tears him apart piece by piece to know yours isn’t his.
“Of course, we’re good.” He nods, pulling you in for a hug and sighing in relief. “We can do whatever you want to do.”
“Oh, but that sounds like you don’t want to.” You cringe, but he laughs.
“This is kind of new territory, you know. If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have done it the first time.” God, but he wants so much more. He wants all of you, not just momentary flings.
You pull back from him, your gaze gleaming. “And how long have you wanted to do that?”
“I’ll have to get drunk before I tell you the answer to that.” He snorts. “Let’s go back out there before they realize how long we’ve been in here.”
The rest of the day was uneventful to say the least. Chenle was happy to have you back at least in your normal friendship way, so he just enjoyed the way you put your legs over his lap and rested your head on his shoulder.
He didn’t feel awkward around the group like he expected to be, but it wasn’t until later in the night when it really set in. With the two of you in his bedroom, the door closed (and locked).
Watching you closely, he’s dying to reach out and touch you. He’s not sure if it’s normal urges he always felt or if they’re new, from the way he had you just yesterday. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he fidgets with his hands.
“You don’t have to be awkward,” you mention to him as you pull your shirt over your head.
He’s not a stranger to seeing your body. You’ve never been uncomfortable changing with him in the room, and he does the same with you. He almost laughs to himself at the thought of seeing you more naked beforehand than while you had sex. His mind races, and when you reach behind your back for the clasp of your bra, his face heats up and he averts his gaze.
It doesn’t matter what he agreed to—it doesn’t feel right to look at you in a state like this without your permission.
Once you’ve pulled one of his T-shirts over your head, you walk over to him, nestling yourself between his legs. He gulps as he looks up at you. Your finger traces along his jaw, eyes scanning over his face.
“Normal, right?” he whispers, gripping the back of your thighs.
“Totally normal.” You nod.
“But I still can…kiss you? If I feel like it?” His voice almost fails him, his heart lodged in his throat.
“When we’re alone, you can do whatever you want.”
Your words make his heart stop in his chest, and he realizes the implications of this. If he’s fallen completely for you without kissing, sex, and the intimacy of those physical aspects, what will it be like when he gets you whenever he wants?
“I want it, too.” You cup his cheeks and tilt his head up.
“And if it’s just kissing?” he asks. “What if that’s all I want right now?”
“Whatever you want,” you reassure him. “I’m not expecting you to want sex every night, you psycho.”
“C’mere.” He pulls you closer, one of his hands grasping the nape of your neck. The initial brush of your lips against his has his breath shuddering. He’s not prepared for any of this. It hasn’t really sunk in yet, but the way your mouth tastes has every sense in his body heightened.
He curses under his breath when you climb on top of him and straddle his lap. It still feels like he’s taking advantage of you like this—you don’t know his true feelings, so how could he do this to you?
“Chenle.” You sigh and halt your movements. “If this is too weird for you, we don’t have to—”
He shakes his head, hands immediately flying to your ass and pushing you closer to him. His length is beginning to harden, and he moves you to make sure you feel it through his shorts.
“I…want you.” He squeezes, making your hips roll.
“Then what’s going on?” you ask.
“I just need to get used to it,” he replies. “To acknowledge how much I…It just feels kinda like I’m dreaming.”
“Why?”
“You…” His cheeks are so hot, he thinks they’ll burn off. “I never thought you’d want me like this.”
You chuckle, and much to his dismay, climb off his lap and get into bed. “Little do you know, I was thinking the same thing.”
He yearns to reach out to you, to pull you back to him, but instead, he lets out a sigh and takes his spot next to you. The last thing he needs to do is push you. He’d walk on eggshells if he had to, if only it meant he could keep whatever fragile intimacy occurring between you.
He wraps his arm around your waist, taking a deep breath as you turn toward him and bury your head in his chest.
And after you fall asleep, he’s still up through the night, trying to figure out if there’s any chance of this ending in his favor.
Day 5 | June 5th
He wants you.
Everything inside him burns at the thought of your agreement, and he needs to pull you away from your friends and have his way with you. He tells himself over and over again that patience is key, but he can’t stand it.
The last few days were uneventful—well, as uneventful as they could be when it came to his newfound physicality with you. He thinks of kissing you in front of everyone, showing all of them where his head has been since the second night at this damn place.
How is he so needy after three days?
In closed quarters, you kiss him, hug him, grind on him, he’s sure his head is going to explode any moment. The night at the bonfire is coming to a close, but not fast enough.
“(Y/N)!” Mark calls out from the water’s edge. “How much money for you to jump in?”
You let out a loud ha! and shuffle away from Chenle. The air is warm, so he knows you’ll be okay, but he’s also concerned by how much he’s interested in seeing your body soaked with—
Hyuck’s hand smacks Chenle’s chest, causing him to cough and shoot a glare at the other man. “What the hell?”
“Why are you staring like that?” Hyuck asks. “Nervous Mark’s gonna steal your girl?”
“She’s not my girl.” He has to force the words out. After all, he doesn’t really believe them….or want to. “I’m just tired.”
Donghyuck lets out a childish chuckle, putting his beer bottle to his lips and chugging the rest of it. Chenle sips his own drink, returning his grumpy stare to you. You’re laughing uncontrollably as you climb out of the water, soaked from head to toe. Your head falls back as you hit Mark’s arm, barely able to contain yourself from whatever Donghyuck made him miss.
You’re barely lit by the firelight, but Chenle’s never seen someone so beautiful. Fooling your friends won’t be hard—he knows damn well he’s always acted the same way around you that he does now, and he certainly has been this clingy since day one. You give him one of your award-winning grins, and before he can object, you flop yourself down on his lap, cackling evilly as the water soaks through his clothes, too.
“(Y/N), what the hell—” Chenle attempts to push you off, but you push yourself into him further.
“I’m soaked.” You don’t stop giggling, but Chenle hates the way he reacts to those words.
His face flames, and before you understand what happened, he pushes you from his lap so you’re sitting next to him on the chair. You look at him inquisitively, and he ignores you with another quick drink.
Music plays from the speakers. You get up to switch the song since your phone is the one set up. It’s only at that moment he realizes you know exactly what you’re doing. Cruel Summer plays, and every inch of his body catches on fire.
His throat dries, and you look at him over your shoulder.
Despite every muscle in his body craving for him to approach you and pull you back into the house, he gets up to grab another bottle instead. The night is going to drag, and he’s almost guilty for how he’s thinking. He’s supposed to be here and enjoying the summer with his friends, and all he wants is to be alone with you.
Pushing you to the back of his mind, he tries to engage more in conversations with the group. He gets into a somewhat heated discussion with Jaemin about global warming, and when you take your spot next to him, he naturally puts his arm around you as you lean into him.
“Can we go to bed?” you ask him, lips brushing his ear. “I’m tired.”
“We should wait,” he replies, taking in the rest of the group. “Just a bit longer, okay?”
You whine quietly but nod, putting your head on Chenle’s shoulder. He’s itching to drag you to his bedroom, but he wants things to be as normal as possible. The two of you rarely cut the party short, and on top of that, he’d prefer to know where everyone else was before he started touching you.
It’s only another ten minutes before Heewon decides she’s done for the night. Chenle nearly sighs in relief.
Everyone agrees to head in, and you all casually separate with a quick goodnight. As soon as Chenle’s door closes behind him, he sighs and runs his fingers through his hair.
“You okay?” you ask him, turning him to face you. “You’ve been off all day.”
He shakes his head, chewing on his bottom lip as he examines you. “You…you said you wanted this, and I’m kind of confused. If you act the same, how do I know when you…you know.”
Your eyes gleam as you smile at him. The sight alone has his heart doing somersaults, and he suddenly wishes he could take the question back. He’s tired of wondering—he needs to figure out what all of this means.
“You’re so cute, Lele,” you tease him. “How are you supposed to know when I want you? Always. I’ve been waiting for you to initiate because you seemed a little uncomfortable, so I didn’t want to push you.”
“So, all I need to do is tell you when I’m…” He cringes at himself. “This is weird.”
You move closer to him and sling your arms over his shoulders. “Exactly. All you have to say is that you want me, and I’m yours.” Your voice is so soft and sweet, it caresses his ears and flows into his brain, and his senses become overrun by you.
“I do. Right now.” Is all he says before he swallows his nerves and connects his mouth with yours. You gasp against him, startled at the sudden movement, but within seconds, return his gesture.
His hands move to the small of your back and press you as close as possible, his lips working messily against yours. He wastes no more time; walking you backward, he lets you fall back onto the mattress.
Settling himself between your legs, he takes a second to look at you—to study your face and the look in your eyes that’s never really changed. He wonders how long you’ve wanted him for. Your thighs part to welcome him perfectly, sighing when he rolls his hips tentatively.
“This,” he whispers, lips grazing your neck. “This is how it should’ve been the first time.”
His nerves seep away when your body shudders beneath his. Your hair is still slightly damp, clinging to your skin and enticing him further. He grinds his hardening length over your core and kisses you gently.
“You have to be quiet,” he continues. “Jaemin and Jeno are right down the hall.”
You nod, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him back to you. “I know. I’ll be good, Lele.”
He gapes for a moment, not used to words having such an effect on him. Gulping, he reaches up and runs his thumb along your bottom lip.
“That’s right,” he confirms. “Be a good girl for me and you won’t regret it.”
Your gaze gets a shade darker, and the thought of what awaits him beneath your clothes overwhelms him completely. You grab at his shirt, attempting to pull it off his body. He moves back to remove it, and then you’re arching your back to allow him to do the same to you. Sitting on his knees, he moves his hands up your body until they’re squeezing your breasts through your black lace bra.
“Can I—”
“You don’t have to ask, Chenle.” You cup his cheeks, lifting his head so he sees you. “I trust you.”
He’s uncomfortably hard at this point as he takes your shorts off you. Your panties match your bra, and he swears he’s never been closer to finishing in his pants. Nobody has ever made him weak like you do. They’ve never appealed to him in the same way, a way of adoration and love and all the beautiful things life has to offer.
You sit up to unclasp the material supporting your chest, tossing it across the room. Everything inside Chenle melts. You, in this vulnerable state, staring at him impatiently as he pushes you back against the mattress.
He dips down, taking your nipple in his mouth. A quiet sigh of pleasure escapes your lips, and his hips buck against yours. He grinds against you as if he’s already thrusting in and out, and he groans at the thought of your wetness all over him.
His nails drag up and down your thigh, and as he pulls away from your breast to move to the other, a strand of saliva follows. The sight is far more erotic than he imagined, and he grips your thigh harshly.
“Kiss me,” you ask him. “Please.”
And someone like him could never deny someone like you—he lunges upward to capture your mouth, his tongue battling with yours as he moves his hand to the hem of your panties. He pulls away for a second, glancing at you once for confirmation.
You nod, almost frantically, and he decides it’s okay to let go for tonight. You want him as badly as he wants you, so why should he hold back? He curses under his breath the second he feels your arousal on his fingertips.
At first, he teases you, running his finger up your entrance until he’s brushing your clit. He smirks at the way you squirm beneath him, desperate for his touch. He’s the one you want.
“Ask me nicely,” he hums against your neck. “Be good and tell me you need me.”
“God, Chenle,” you whine, rocking your hips. “Please touch me. I need you so bad.”
His own eyes nearly roll into the back of his head when he pushes two fingers inside of you. You grip him so tightly, he wonders how you took him so well just a few nights before. He’d been an asshole and got right to it instead of working you up.
Your breaths turn into whimpers, and your walls quiver around him. He’s already lost in you, in the way you feel on his fingers and the scrunch of your face as you try to hold back the noises you’re desperate to make. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to fall for you more than he already has, but tonight, he learns that falling in love is not linear, and it doesn’t stop.
Tonight, he finds out that it’s a free fall into the deepest ocean, and the only option is to sink further in the water and let the waves take him.
He swallows your quiet moan, positioning his thumb on your clit as he continues his descent into madness. Your walls begin to tighten, so he instinctively kisses you, using his hand to help you ride out the high that’s sending shivers down your body. You squirm beneath him, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip.
“Where are the condoms?” he asks you.
Still dazed, you blink a couple times. “Uh, I…they’re in the nightstand I think.”
He kisses your cheek, irritated at the coldness when he moves away from you. Sighing in relief once he finds the box, he opens it and tears one away from the rest. He tries to swallow his nerves, but when he sees you resting on your elbows, waiting for him, he halts.
This is you.
The one he’s always been able to be himself around, and what if he’s ruining it by thinking with his dick?
“I know that look.” You lift yourself off the bed and approach him, grabbing the wrapper from him. “We don’t have to do this, you know.”
“I want to,” he says, wetting his lips. “I want you, but I don’t want to lose you.”
You frown, shaking your head and pulling him closer. “It doesn’t matter how this goes, Le. You’ll never lose me. I promise.”
I love you almost slips, but he holds it back. But God, he’s sure he’s never loved you more.
You reach down to push his shorts and boxers down before guiding him back. He sits on the edge of the bed, gripping your hips and refraining from yanking you onto his lap and sliding his cock in.
When you open the condom wrapper, his heart is about to jump out of his chest. And then you’re putting it on him, pushing your panties to the floor, climbing onto his lap to straddle him, and rubbing his tip against your entrance.
It’s like time stops as you sink down on his length. Moonlight flits in through the windows, illuminating your body and your skin and the subtle eye roll. He can’t breathe. Every time he tries, his lungs fail him, as if you’re drowning him with everything you have.
He wraps his arms around you, your chest pressing to his as he slowly, slowly guides you down on him. You both sigh together, trying not to alert your friends down the hall. 
“You’re amazing,” he mutters, dazed. “Feels so fucking good.”
You drop your head onto his shoulder, your uneven breaths fanning across his skin. He rocks his hips, but your tightness almost makes it hard for him to move. This time, he doesn’t want to rush. He wants to enjoy all you have to offer and take his time with you—make love to you, really.
“Hold on, baby,” he whispers, wrapping you in his arms. “Gonna turn us over.”
He does just that, the clench of your walls on his cock enough to make him delirious. After you shift to get comfortable, he intertwines his fingers with yours and pushes your hand deep into the mattress next to your head.
With his chest brushing yours, he moves, taking his time in pulling out only to push back in. Your head falls back against the mattress, your eyes closing. You squeeze his hand as hard as you can, doing your best to lift your hips to match his thrusts.
The room is full of moonlight, soft pleasure, and the sound of him pushing into your dripping entrance.
He whispers praises in your ear, telling you how good you make him feel and how you take him so well. The slickness of sweat makes your bodies stick together, and the room gets hotter and hotter the longer he’s seated deeply inside you.
The first time he had you, he barely had time to process what happened. This time, he’s basking in the moment, giving you gentle kisses over your face as he keeps a steady pace. He wants to stay here like this forever, but he knows better than to let that thought run rampant in his head.
He releases your hand—which ends up in his hair—as he reaches between the two of you and presses his fingers to your clit. You whine a little louder than you should, so Chenle silences you with his mouth. The position is a bit awkward for him, but the buck of your hips makes sure that’s the last thing on his mind.
Your body shudders beneath him, moans spilling into his mouth for him to swallow and keep for his own. He thrusts a little faster, eager to bring you to your edge and experience your pleasure for himself.
You whisper his name like a mantra, euphoria quickly claiming you as you drag your nails down his back. In the midst of that feeling and your walls clamping around him, he bursts into the condom, cursing under his breath. 
Despite his dry throat, he manages to kiss along your neck while attempting to regain his breath.
“That,” he tells you. “Is how it should’ve been.”
“Feel free to do it like that all the time.” Your tired giggle fills his ears.
He squeezes your thigh gently as he pulls out of you, ready to groan at the loss. You lay there with a smile on your face as he disposes of the condom in the adjoining bathroom. When he returns to you, he’s surprised to find you under the blankets on your side.
When he raises an eyebrow at you, you shrug. “You can get dressed if you want. I’m too tired.”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he climbs into bed next to you and pulls you close to him. Your skin is damp with sweat, but he’s sure his is worse. He kisses the top of your head, and just like so many nights before, he hums songs for you until you fall asleep.
Day 6 | June 6th
In the night, you curled further into him. His eyes are closed, but he’s been up for a while. Fingers trailing up and down your spine, he thinks he’s reached his peak. The summer sun amplified through the window warms his skin, but more importantly, it illuminates you and the softness of your features as you sleep.
The brightness blinds him, but he doesn’t mind. Not when his focal point is you.
He made love to you last night. All of his feelings were delivered to you on a silver platter and, just for a brief moment, he thinks he saw it back from you. Like there’s a part of you—however small—that wanted him the same way.
The sound of a door opening and closing down the hall wakes you, and you wrap your arm around him tighter.
“This is nice,” you murmur, kissing the base of his neck.
“I think so, too.”
“Do we have to get up?” You shake your head as if answering your own question.
He chuckles. “It might look weird if we don’t.”
“I need to shower.” You shift onto your back and run your hands down your face.
He uses the opportunity to move over you and kiss down your neck, finding your pulse quicker than it should be after just waking up. Nipping your skin to stop his smirk, he inhales your scent.
“You could always come with,” you offer, running your fingers through his hair.
“Now, that’ll be obvious.” He chuckles and pulls away from you, removing himself from the blanket as he stretches. When he looks back at you, you’ve already grabbed his T-shirt from the ground and are in the process of putting it on. He gets a brief glimpse of you. Slamming his eyes shut, he assumes nothing good will come of seeing your naked image in his mind over and over again.
The bed dips behind him as you climb over, draping your arms over his neck and kissing his cheek. “You should do it anyway.”
He snorts and pushes you away jokingly. With your signature grin plastered on your face, you make your way into the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Once he hears the water starting, he drags himself over to his bag to get dressed. He decides on a pair of sweatpants and a black T-shirt, and on his way out of the room, Jeno is also heading for the kitchen.
Chenle avoids his eyes as much as possible, wondering if any of his escapade with you last night was audible for him or Jaemin. Chasing the thought out of his head, he goes straight for the water bottles in the fridge.
“Where’s (Y/N)?” Mark asks, eating the watermelon Chaeyoung cut up a couple days back.
“She’s in the shower,” Chenle replies nonchalantly, unscrewing the cap and taking a drink.
“You didn’t want to join her?” Heewon laughs from the side as she butters her toast.
He narrows his eyes in her direction. “And why would I do that?”
“Well, you guys do everything else together,” she replies.
That earns her a cackle from Hyuck, but Chenle shakes his head.
“We don’t do everything else together.”
“Right, you guys are just dating without the benefits of getting off.” Mark pretends to be lost in thought.
Chenle’s heart twists violently in his chest, nearly lurching him forward. He wants everything from you—anything you want to give him, he’d take without hesitation. Heewon scolds Mark quietly and smacks his arm, because apparently that was what was too far.
He half expects Jeno to pipe up and expose exactly how opposite your relationship with Chenle is now, but he stays silent. Hopefully, that means Jaemin and Jeno heard nothing from last night. Your sounds were for Chenle and Chenle only, and a part of him felt glory in that.
The teasing from the friend group never bothered him before, but with this new side of your relationship, he let the words sink in deep.
How exactly was he going to make it out of this unscathed?
Day 8 | June 8th
Both of you knew it was risky, but something about you had him bent way out of shape. The group was doing their yearly ice cream run in less than an hour, and all he cared about at the moment was being inside you.
He put you on the bathroom counter, your body next to falling off it if he wasn’t holding onto you so tightly. Without much warning, he enters you completely with one thrust. His hand covers your mouth, capturing the moan spilling past your lips. Your eyes roll back, and he swears that sight alone is almost enough to get him off.
You murmur his name against his palm, head lolling back.
“Sorry, Sunshine.” He nips your earlobe as he rocks his hips gently to help you adjust to his size. “We’ve gotta be fast.”
“‘M good,” you say, gripping tightly onto his shoulders.
He takes the hint, beginning his movements a bit quicker than he normally would. Even though he hasn’t had a drop of alcohol in days, the world sways around him as if he’s drunk. You’re what’s intoxicating him, and in the moments where you’re connected, he feels like he’s on cloud nine.
One hand rests on the small of your back, and the other stays on your mouth, desperate to finish but needing you to stay quiet. Whenever he thinks of being with you in this way, he tries to fuck you in the ways you deserve—make you feel so good you’re dreaming about it long after you’re done—but both of you are far too desperate right now to consider anything like that.
Your nails leave angry red crescents in his skin, but it only spurs him faster. His hips rutt against yours, his body craving the complete euphoria he’s only ever been able to accomplish with you.
His gaze meets yours, and he finds your eyebrows furrowed. Since he’s got such a firm grip on you, you move one of your hands and slide it down your body, watching him closely as if he’s going to stop you.
As soon as your fingers find your clit, you groan and your walls flutter around his cock. He curses, and his next sharp thrust has you whining.
“I’m so…” you trail off, body nearly falling limp in his grasp.
But just before you reach your high, the bedroom door opens, and there’s approximately two seconds before whoever walks in sees inside the bathroom. The next curse that falls from his lips is for two reasons—one, because all he needed was another minute, and he would’ve reached his high. Two, because he now has to figure out a way to make this look like anything except what it is.
He pulls out of you, readjusting your panties and guiding you off the counter before he tucks his painfully hard cock back into his sweats, condom and all.
“(Y/N)’s sick,” he calls out. “Give us a few minutes and we’ll come out okay? She’ll kill me if I let you see her like this.” He moves over to the door and closes it, locking it before whoever it is can see the mess you’ve turned him into.
“Oh, be fucking for real,” Chaeyoung’s voice says. “(Y/N), are you really sick? Or are you two—”
You breathe a sigh of relief when you hear her. Instead of letting Chenle answer, you pull your shirt down to cover yourself before cracking the door open.
“I’m okay. We’ll be out in like, two seconds.”
“You horny bitch.” Chaeyoung purses her lips. “Can’t stay off his dick for five minutes.”
Chenle feels his insides churning at that comment. For a moment, he’s sure she’s being serious, but then both of you burst into laughter, and Chenle’s blood cools.
“We would’ve been out already if you hadn’t interrupted us.” You pinch your fingers together. “I was this close.”
“Are you at least using condoms?” she asks in a hushed voice, turning the tips of Chenle’s ears bright pink.
“Yes, mom, now if you could go, I need to put some actual clothes on.” You shoo her away.
“The guys want ice cream. No dick until later,” she tells you, laughing as she walks out of the room.
You let out a sigh and close the door again, biting down on your bottom lip as you look at Chenle.
“Sorry, we don’t really have TMIs, so she…” You clear your throat.
“No, that’s…that’s good that you have someone to talk to about all of this that’s not me,” he says, walking up to you to put his hands on your hips and tug you close. “You think she’ll be mad if I just…”
He turns you so your back is to his chest, lips latching onto your neck as his touch trails down to the hem of your panties.
“I’d hate to leave you hanging when you were this close.” He tongues along your pulse, skimming below the hem of your panties.
“You’d better make it quick, Lele.” You lean your head back on his shoulder. “She’ll kill us.”
He grins smugly at the invitation, allowing his fingertips to graze lower until he finds your clit. You’re still soaked from being robbed of your high, so your body jerks at the sensation. He grinds against your ass, proving to you how badly he wants to be inside you.
“T-this is going to be embarrassingly fast.” You pant, rocking your hips back and forth. “I need more.” Your hands grip the edge of the countertop, pained whines escaping you.
He moves faster on your clit, and before he’s able to comprehend what’s happening, you squirm and bite down on your hand to stop your noises.
“Look at yourself, baby,” he whispers, his other hand sliding up to your throat to guide your face toward the mirror. “Look at how fucking good you look when I’m touching you.”
You inhale sharply, moving your own hand up to his to press his fingers in around your neck. He rubs you faster, taking his own initiative in squeezing you to control your breathing. Looking up at your reflection, he almost starts drooling at the sight of what he’s doing to you.
Your whines turn into breathless wheezes, and seconds later, you part your lips to let out a silent scream of pleasure as your insides clench around nothing.
He slows his circles to help you come down from your high, showering your shoulder and neck with kisses.
“Alright,” he whispers, retracting his touch from you. “We’d better get going.”
“But you didn’t—”
“You’ll make it up to me later.” He kisses you one last time. “You look so fucking sexy when I’m touching you.”
“Keep talking like that and we’ll never make it out of this bathroom,” you warn him.
You’re doing it on purpose.
Every year, the group goes to the same place for ice cream. Chenle’s been coming here ever since he was a young boy, but it’s been at least 5 years since he started bringing the rest of your friends, too. They have new experimental flavors, and it’s his mission to try all of them.
So, of course, he chooses one, and you choose a different one. The two of you are meant to be acting normally, but the way your lips close around his spoon has his mind spiraling. Not to mention how you make eye contact with him, and that damn gleam in your gaze is enough to make his cock jump in his pants.
How did he ever live without being inside you before?
“Hey, guys.” Chaeyoung tosses her arms over the two of you, grinning widely before lowering her voice. “If you don’t want people to know, you’re doing an awful job. You’re looking at each other like you ingested the worst Harry Potter love potion imaginable.”
The word love throws him off track, and he quickly takes his spoon away from you and side steps to run his fingers through his hair. He has no idea what’s gotten into him. Usually, he’s pretty good about this kind of stuff. And to be honest, before he started messing around with you, he wasn’t nearly as horny as he is now.
No, because now, he feels like he needs to be touching you constantly, and if he’s not, he’s wasting valuable time.
He tries his best to shove those thoughts to the back of his mind. At some point, you’ll have to go back to being just his best friend. It pains him that this can’t be forever, but at the end of the day, he has you. Whether or not it’s completely is a different story.
Everyone takes their usual table outside, and you sit between him and Chaeyoung. The guys converse, the girls laugh over something, but Chenle isn’t joining either conversation. Worry sinks deep in his gut instead. He wonders if it’s okay for him to be as nonchalant about the two of you having sex as he is.
You’re his best friend. Regardless of his feelings toward you, he should’ve done the mature, right thing and declined this offer.
But he’s in too deep now, and all it takes is one wide smile from you to tilt the earth on its axis.
For the next couple hours at this ice cream parlor, things are back to normal. He suppresses his urges the way he always has. His mind lingers on you, especially when your voice and your laugh echoes in his ears, and this time…
This time, he knows what he has to do.
Day 15 | June 15th
“Okay, this is getting ridiculous.” You close his bedroom door behind you and cross your arms over your chest. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
“What are you talking about?” he asks, frowning.
“Don’t play stupid.” Your foot taps anxiously on the ground. “One week, we’re all over each other, and now you’ve barely even touched me since Chaeyoung almost walked in on us. Is that what’s going on? You’re weirded out that she knows things about us?”
“Us.” He scoffs, tugging his fingers through his hair. “What us, (Y/N)?”
You visibly recoil, hurt playing out on your face as Chenle instantly regrets his words. Even then, he’s not going to back down from this.
“You’re starting to piss me off.”
“I…I don’t want sex.” He shrugs.
You wet your lips and narrow your eyes, trying to comprehend what he means by that. “That’s just—like, that’s okay. I don’t want you to feel like you have to have sex with me, Le, but if our friendship is going to survive this, I need you to be honest and open with me.”
“The sex isn’t the problem.”
“Oh.” Your voice waivers, and he immediately wishes he never opened his mouth. A short laugh of disbelief escapes you.
“It’s not you, either,” he quickly adds, grabbing onto your hand. “It’s really not. I…I still need my best friend, though. And it feels like I’m losing that side of you because things are changing. You said nothing would change.”
“I haven’t changed,” you tell him. “Everything I do is exactly what I’ve done last year or the year before that. I’ve been teasing you a little, yeah, but I thought you liked it. Am I an idiot?”
Chenle’s chest deflates. “No. No, you’re not an idiot. I’m an asshole.” He pulls you to his chest and cradles the back of your head. “I’m sorry. I’ve been acting like a little kid. All I want is my best friend, and I’m scared that after all of this is over, I’m gonna lose you. I don’t know how to live without you. You know that.”
“You’d only have to worry about ruining our friendship if the dick was bad.” Despite the thickness of your voice, your humor breaks through.
He snorts and pushes you away, rolling his eyes. “Dude, for real?”
“I’m just being honest.” You tug on his arm, and for a moment, he sees a glimpse of your previous friendship.
Maybe everything can work out.
“As your best friend, I think we should watch that movie with Mark and Chae.” You grab his hand and play with his fingers.
“Okay.” He nods. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
That’s how he ends up curled up with you on the couch, your back pressed to his chest and snuggled up with a blanket. He feels at peace for the first time in a long time, the steadiness of your breathing almost enough to lull him to sleep. The screen plays some sort of superhero movie, but he’s not too interested in it. He’s more interested in the way a small sound tumbles from your lips as you turn toward him.
He holds you close, smiling to himself at the warmth you create. When he glances back up, he meets Chae’s gaze. The woman scans over the two of you, her expression warm. Chenle thinks he imagined it for a moment since he’s so tired, but Chae gives him a thumbs up and turns back to the screen.
Day 16 | June 16th
“Chenle, can I talk to you for a minute?” Chaeyoung asks, leaning on the archway leading into the kitchen.
You went with Heewon and Jaemin to the store, so he had nothing to do otherwise. He nods and follows her into the other room. Grabbing the orange juice from the fridge, he tiredly gives her all of his attention.
“What’s up?”
“I saw the way you looked at her yesterday,” she begins, tapping her fingernails against the carpet. “So either you know how you feel or you’re in denial, but you need to tell her. One or both of you are going to get hurt by the end of this if you’re not honest with each other.”
“I appreciate the advice, Chae, but I’m not sure you have all of the facts.” Chenle crosses his arms over his chest.
“And what am I missing?” she asks.
“Honestly, you may know some things, but you’ll never know all of it,” he replies. “It’ll never be an easy situation to digest, but we’re best friends. We’re mature enough to handle this.”
“You realize if this all falls apart, it’s going to fuck up the rest of the group, too?” She frowns. “You guys aren’t really thinking this through.”
Right when Chenle goes to answer her, the front door opens, and he hears your conversation with Heewon spill through the house.
“Thanks for your concerns.” Chenle nods once before turning around to find you.
Day 17 | June 17th
Chenle throws his head back, hand tangled in your hair as you take his cock in your mouth. He sits on the edge of the bed and you kneel before him, drooling over his length. Your moans vibrate around him. This is the first time you’ve sucked him off, but he’s already found out this is as addicting as everything else.
“That’s it.” He allows his eyes to flutter shut and his eyebrows furrow the closer he gets. “You always take my cock so well, Sunshine.”
You whine, and his hips buck, slamming his tip into the back of your throat. You constrict around him, and his grip on your head tightens. God, he can’t fucking think straight around you. Your nails dig into his thighs, and despite choking around him, you continue bobbing your head up and down.
The base of his length starts to tingle, and he tugs your hair gently. “Gonna cum, baby, you don’t have to—fuck.”
Your response is to simply hollow your cheeks, the lewd sounds around the two of you almost loud enough to make him worry about others hearing it. The suction from your mouth has him approaching his high rapidly, and once you reach up to touch his balls, he cums in white spurts deep in your throat.
Day 18 | June 18th
“Chenle,” you whisper, leaning closer to him.
The summer wind brushes past the two of you sitting on the little porch connected to his bedroom. It’s the middle of the night, and the only thing covering you is a soft blanket. He has his own, but he regrets that. He wants to be wrapped up with you. The waves crash to the shoreline, the salty, ocean scent infiltrating everything around him.
“Yeah?”
“This is my favorite summer,” you tell him.
“Me too.” He squeezes your arm. “I’d stay just like this forever if I could.”
You make him open his arms before shifting yourself onto his lap and covering him with your blanket as you grind your bare body down onto his.
“What’s the likelihood they hear us out here?” you ask, leaning in to kiss along his neck.
“They’ve got a better chance of hearing us inside than this…” he trails off, wondering if he should really allow something like this to happen.
But soon enough, you kiss him for real. And when your lips are working on his, he’s inherently weak for you. It doesn’t take long for his cock to harden, and once it does, you line him up with your entrance.
“We don’t have a condom,” he chokes out, gripping your ass.
“Pull out when you’re about to cum, then,” you tell him. “If that’s okay?”
His hand finds the nape of your neck, pulling your mouth to his to seal his fate with a kiss. He guides you down on his cock, groaning at the feeling of taking you raw. You don’t even give yourself time to adjust, instead working your way through your sensitivity by bouncing on him.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he reminds you. “Look at how well you take my cock.”
He’s learned so much about you during this short time, but he loves knowing what makes you crumble within minutes. His fingers wrap around your throat, and as he puts the perfect amount of pressure, your eyes roll and your hips work faster.
He tightens his grip, and your whine is interrupted. You show him no mercy, lifting and falling with such precision he wants to fill you up with his load.
The blanket is secure on your grip draping off of Chenle’s shoulders, so you nearly fall against him when his fingers connect with your clit. He’s teetering close to the edge, but he knows he has to pull out. No way is he cumming before you.
Your arousal makes him glide against your bud effortlessly, and he squeezes your throat harder at the same time.
“Chenle.” You gasp, pace changing as you get closer to your high. “Please cum inside. Need to feel your cum dripping out of m—fuck.” Your voice breaks as he thrusts up hard, hitting your spot. A broken moan escapes, nearly cut off by his grip on you, and your walls clamp down on his cock.
He watches you as he spurts his load and paints your insides, but all he sees is a blissed out smile and your heaving chest.
You slump against him and hum quietly. He grabs his blanket and wraps it around both of you, not wanting to leave you just yet. The summer breeze sweeps across the back of his neck, chilling the sweaty dampness.
He wants to tell you so badly.
He loves you. He wants to love you forever, but maybe he’ll only get these fleeting moments.
What a cruel, cruel summer this has become.
Day 19 | June 19th
The days pass so quickly. It’s been eighteen days since he first made you his, and all he wants is to make it last forever. The whole group goes to a movie theater, hopping between different rooms and films to catch a glimpse of everything that’s recently hit the big screens.
But he can’t take his eyes off of you.
The way you smile so widely in his direction. How all of your friends are so used to him being all over you.
Your laugh echoes around in his brain, and when the poor employee realizes what you’re doing, they try to stop you to figure out who you are. Chenle’s giggles join yours as he grasps your hand and pulls you toward the exit.
The two of you run, and with your fingers laced in his, you’re somehow separated from your friend group.
Once you’re outside, he presses your back to the brick of the building, kissing you in the midst of laughing. His hand latches onto the fabric of your shirt at the small of your back, and he works his lips on yours like magic.
How is he ever supposed to go back to normal after having you like this?
“Come on,” you tell him, grabbing his wrist and leading him away. “We’ve gotta find them.”
But he knows that no matter where you go, he’ll follow.
Day 20 | June 20th
He lost track of how many times his body has tangled with yours. How many times you’ve quietly, desperately called out his name while he takes you to new worlds you’ve never seen before.
He yearns to be grounded, to plant his feet back on Earth, but how does he do that when the universe that is you infiltrates his very being? All the stars and planets and milky ways and meteors float around in your dazed irises, and he caresses your face.
He loves you. He wants to tell you. He needs you to love him back.
Day 21 | June 21st
“Okay, this one is easy.” Donghyuck holds his hand up to reign in everyone’s excitement. “Never have I ever…kissed someone in the friend group.”
You glance at Chenle once, and he shrugs, so both of you lift your bottles. The point of this game? Get as drunk as possible. Every time someone says something you’ve done, you have to drink. Which means everyone is thoroughly surprised when every single person around the table sips from their cups.
“We’re the worst friend group,” Mark says, nearly hissing at the taste of the liquid burning down his throat. “We said ‘friends’ and turned it into an orgy.”
Heewon glares at him. “Dude.”
“Sorry.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender.
But soon enough, six pairs of eyes are on you and Chenle, and he immediately feels his face burning.
“You two want to explain?” Hyuck asks.
“Is everyone else explaining?” Chenle quirks an eyebrow, watching as Donghyuck purses his lips.
“No explanations unless you ask more questions,” you pipe up.
Chenle hopes that’ll divert the conversation from the two of you. His hand brushes over your knee under the table, and you send him a small smile.
“Fine,” Mark says. “Never have I ever kissed my best friend.”
From the corner of his eye, he sees you grab your bottle, so he doesn’t hesitate to do the same. He takes a fairly large drink, forcing the alcohol down his throat to make this night less painful.
Chaeyoung watches the two of you closely, and the rest of the group seems hyped up on adrenaline, like they’ve caught you and him in a lie of sorts. This news can’t be that shocking to them. Or maybe they’re all pining at the idea of being right.
But they’re not—you’re not in love with Chenle. Meaning, they’d be completely wrong.
Jaemin, who’s already had a bit too much from the hour of this game you’ve already been playing, laughs as he points at Chenle.
“I’ve got one.” He nods slowly, the smirk spreading across his face as he leans on Jeno’s shoulder. “Never have I ever had sex with my best friend.”
Your gasp is only audible to Chenle and Chaeyoung, who sits on the opposite side of you. Both you and Chenle are already holding your glasses, and you look at him, silently asking him if that’s something you should admit to the group.
You’re incredibly stiff, but Chenle watches as you slowly lift your hand. Before you get far, Chaeyoung smacks the back of Jaemin’s head.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” she hisses. “You can’t ask them things like that!”
Your cup lands back on the table louder than you planned. Chenle analyzes you, the stiffness of your back and the way you glance down at your lap instead of the rest of the group. His instinct makes him want to pull you away from them to somewhere you’ll be more comfortable.
“Oh, come on! They were about to admit to it.” Jaemin lets out a dramatic sigh. “Did you see the hesitation? They were seconds away from finally telling us if they’ve done it.”
Your hand lands on Chenle’s thigh, and he immediately knows what that means. A switch inside of him turns, and anger bubbles in his stomach. You’re his best friend, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else wants to know—the last thing he’ll let happen is any of them attempting to badger you into admitting something you don’t want the rest of the group to know.
“We’re all friends, why does it matter if we know or not?” Jeno agrees. “We’ve all been waiting for them to—”
“Knock it off,” Chenle deadpans, his voice dropping octaves. He leans forward, his arm crossing over you and his other hand gripping his bottle tighter. At the change in tone, everyone looks at him in shock, excitement fading into a nervous energy.
“Lighten up,” Donghyuck says. “They’re just joking—”
“Well, I’m not,” he replies, furrowing his eyebrows. “The hell’s wrong with you guys? You can’t tell when you’re making someone uncomfortable? Neither of us owe you anything, if you didn’t know that. You don’t need to know everything.”
“Okay,” Jaemin mumbles. “Didn’t know it was that big of a deal.”
“That’s because you don’t think, Jaemin. If anything happens between us that we want to share, we’ll share. But until then, mind your fucking business—”
“Lele,” you mutter to him, reaching forward to grasp his wrist in front of you. “Lele, it’s okay. They get it.”
He instantly relaxes at your words, running his tongue over his teeth as he rests back in his seat. You grasp his hand beneath the table and intertwine your fingers with his, rubbing your thumb against his skin.
“Sorry, (Y/N),” Jaemin says, fidgeting with his hands.
You give him an awkward smile and a nod. Chenle senses the atmosphere won’t return to the chaotic laughter it’d recently been filled with, so he wonders what’ll happen if he lets everyone know he’s taking you to bed.
When everyone resumes as much conversation as they can, Chenle leans in close to you to whisper in your ear. “Do you want to go to bed?”
It’s well past midnight, and the alcohol is starting to settle in his system. He is tired. You run your fingers through your hair and nod. He doesn’t say anything to the rest of the group, but you mutter something to Chaeyoung, who gives you a sympathetic smile and a nod.
Although he refrains from physically leading you away, he feels everyone’s eyes on the two of you. It shouldn’t upset him as much as it does. Plus, he wouldn’t mind all that much if they knew, but seeing the way it bothered you suddenly had him on ten. There was no other solution other than to put them all in their place.
Once you’re in the confines of his room, he pulls you into a hug. You melt in his embrace, your body basically limp. He rubs up and down your back, wishing he could take that feeling away from you for good. You deserve the best, and he wants to give it to you.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t know why they’d fucking do that.”
You shake your head. “They’d know eventually, right? We wouldn’t have been able to keep it a secret forever.”
“They should never push something like that. They’re supposed to be our friends, (Y/N). You were uncomfortable.”
“Le,” you say, pulling back to look at him. “As much as I appreciated you standing up for me, all I want right now is my best friend, okay? Just…be that guy, please.”
Both of you change into your pajamas, and then climb into bed. If you wanted him to be your best friend, he could do that. Hell, he’s spent his whole life basically doing it, so as he pulls you to his chest, it’s like muscle memory.
Everywhere Chenle is, you’re right there next to him. Never behind, never ahead, always beside.
“Chenle,” you whisper.
“Yeah, Sunshine?” He strokes your hair, pressing his lips to the top of your head.
“I…Can you be my best friend and still kiss me?” you ask. “I don’t want anything else. Just kissing.”
He lifts your chin so you’re looking at him and gives you the faintest smile. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”
Your eyes swim with all sorts of emotions, and while he’d love to sit there and analyze each one of them, you allow them to flutter shut in anticipation of his kiss.
He can’t recall a time where he’s kissed you so gently, as if you might shatter beneath his touch. Placing his hand on the small of your back, he presses you flush against him while his mouth works so effortlessly on yours.
There’s no heat behind it. The only sounds are of the rustling of his sheets, the soft sighs, and his quiet compliments between breathing breaks. He allows himself to get lost in this, in the way it feels so different from every other kiss he’s shared with you.
Those kisses all lead to sex. They were a bridge to being physical, but now all he wants is to lie in this bed with you forever, connected in such a basic and innocent way.
“You make all of it better,” you murmur, inhaling deeply. “Everything I am is for you, Zhong Chenle.”
“And you’ve built me from the ground up,” he replies. “I was created for you. I don’t know who I am without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out.”
His heart runs rampant, doing all sorts of backflips in his chest. He starts to sweat even though he’s not physically exerting himself, and he desperately feels like he needs to grasp at something. If he doesn’t, he’ll fall…but can he even more than he already has?
Is falling in love something that happens gradually, continually, or is it all at once? Once you’ve fallen in love, can you still progress further into it, or is that feeling at its peak?
He thinks back to the first time he realized he wanted more from you. It’s been over a year since he admitted it to himself, and the person he was during that time never would believe that this is his life now.
“You promise?” Chenle’s nearly breathless, your words robbing him of the oxygen he needs to survive.
You smile ever so softly, nodding slowly. “I’m yours. Always.”
The promise sinks through his skin and into his bloodstream, flowing all the way through his body and infiltrating his brain. It means so much more to him than it means to you, he knows that, but he kisses you again anyway.
He kisses you over and over and over again. By the time the sun comes up in the morning, neither of you have slept, but your lips are swollen and your eyes are drooping.
No matter what, he’ll hold you to your word.
Day 22 | June 22nd
Two coffee cups steam from the table on Chenle’s patio. He sits, slumped, on the padded bench with you next to him, legs thrown over his lap. His thumb rubs your thigh. Exhaustion has yet to kick in, especially as he looks at you. Your hair is mussed, his T-shirt hanging off your shoulder and your shorts hiking up your thighs. Everything about this is domestic, and it makes his heart flutter.
He stayed up all night with you. The sunrise over the water leaves a calming wave cascading over him, and he gets an odd feeling that it’s all going to be okay.
He’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.
You bring the coffee cup up to your lips, sighing at the taste. He made it for you. But not only that, he made it the way you’ve always loved it. You told him once, and he never forgot. Every detail he learns about you is immediately stored in his memory.
“Maybe we should tell them,” you say, running your fingers through his hair. “That way, they’ll leave us alone. And whatever we’re doing would get a little easier.”
“Would it?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“None of this is easy.” Chenle gulps, wishing he had the filter necessary to make him bite his tongue right now. “What we’re doing isn’t easy. We don’t even know what it is, so why would we try to explain it to other people?”
“Oh.” You drink more, tired gaze turning to the ocean in the distance.
“It’s not a bad thing. I’m just being honest.”
“Yeah, no, honesty is good,” you agree. “You’re right.”
“(Y/N), I—”
“No.” You hold up your hand. “We said the end of the summer, so I get it. I’d rather wait anyway.”
He wants to grab you by the shoulders and shake you, telling you all the things he loves about you and how badly he wants you to be his forever.
“I’m gonna need six more cups of coffee.” You swing your legs off of him, and leave him sitting by himself, caught up in the warm, summer breeze the same way he’s caught up in you.
Day 25 | June 25th
Going out to the bar was the worst idea ever. The more you drank, the more you wanted to be all over Chenle. He didn’t mind it, but the more he drank, the more he wanted to touch you in ways that would have every saint covering their eyes.
You turn to face him, flashing lights reflecting off your skin as you dance with him. His brain is so clouded, so foggy, but he remembers you kissing him. He groaned into your mouth, pulling you closer and doing his best to maintain a rhythm with you. For a moment, he forgets that all of your friends are here too, but he has high hopes they’ll be too drunk to recall.
You pull away, jaw dropped as you remove his grasp on your and quickly stumble toward the exit. He curses under his breath, knowing he can’t let you go alone in a state like this. The world is tilting around him as he follows you, but he refuses to let you out of his sight. The protective urges come forward.
“(Y/N)!” he calls out to you as the two of you make it outside. “Hey! Stop it.”
“Leave me alone, Chenle.” The thickness of your voice has every last bit of alcohol drying up from his system. He jogs to catch up to you, grabbing your wrist and whirling you around to look at him.
Your eyes are bloodshot, tears falling down your cheeks.
“What’s wrong, Sunshine?” he whispers, tugging you to his chest. “God, are you okay?”
“‘M fine,” you reply, but your body shudders in his grasp.
“Come on.” He scoffs. “I didn’t stop being your best friend just because we’re sleeping together.”
You put your palm on your forehead, cursing under your breath. “I just kissed you in there. In front of everyone.”
“Yeah.” Chenle shrugs. “What’s wrong with that?”
“It was supposed to be simple,” you murmur, tugging on your hair with your fingers. “We were supposed to have fun this summer, and everything’s fucking falling apart—”
He recoils. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’re gonna leave me.” Your voice breaks, and his heart right along with it.
“Why would you say something like that?”
“It’s all just—” you cut yourself off, clutching Chenle’s shirt. “Too much. I want you so fucking bad all the time.”
“Me too, baby, you know that.” He cups your cheeks, wiping your tears away. “I’m not going anywhere. No matter what happens, I’ll always be right next to you. Promise, Sunshine.”
His own eyes well at the sight, but he wonders what really brought all of this on. He presses his lips to your forehead, allowing them to linger there a moment too long. Pulling you close, his gaze turns toward the building, where Jaemin and Heewon stand. He gives them the best, watery glare he can, and they quickly shuffle back inside.
It’ll never be him who leaves you. If anyone were going to run away, it will absolutely be you.
And that crushes his heart even further. Beats it to a tiny pulp and straight up purees it until it’s mush.
He takes you home, puts you in bed, and spends half the night out on his patio, leaning on the wooden railing and watching the waves crash into the midnight shore.
The view from here gives him a glimpse of the driveway, and the rest of the group pulls in not even an hour later. He makes eye contact with Jaemin, and while the others head inside, Jaemin approaches him with his hands in his pockets.
“Hey,” Jaemin says softly. “You got a few minutes?”
Chenle looks inside at your sleeping form and gently closes the door with a sigh. “I’ve got nothing but time.”
“Look, man, we all get it.” Jaemin’s feet thud quietly on the creaky stairs as he makes his way up, stopping and leaning his back against the railing as he analyzes Chenle. “We love you guys. A lot. And something weird has been going on, and it’s not like we don’t notice.”
“A lot of weird has been going on,” Chenle says, chuckling to himself. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it. It’s just us now.”
The other man purses his lips, taking a deep breath of salty air. “You love her, don’t you?”
“I wish it were as simple as that.” He clasps his hands together, wondering how much he should say.
“It can be,” Jaemin replies. “You think she doesn’t love you?”
“I know she doesn’t,” he insists. “You don’t know her like I do.”
His friend nods, as if he’s conceding with what Chenle’s saying. But he knows better—Jaemin is good at these things. Regardless of whatever happened a few nights back, Jaemin is insightful when it comes to relationships despite not having much experience in that department.
“You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, okay? But I know something is. And I notice (Y/N) talking to Chae a lot, but you never talk to anyone about serious things except for her. It’s okay to be confused and to want to talk about things.”
“She didn’t want anyone to know.” Chenle lets out a defeated sigh, allowing his head to hang between his shoulders.
“To know what?”
“We…” Chenle considers biting his tongue. At the end of the day, he knows he can trust Jaemin, and that he’d never do anything to betray Chenle’s trust, but the words leaving his mouth feel like a betrayal to you. “We’ve been hooking up, I guess.”
“Oh, like…more than once.” Jaemin blinks his shock away.
“Yeah. Like, the whole summer so far.” He runs his hands down his face. “We’d never done anything before, and I honestly didn’t think it would be a possibility. And then we did. And it was fast and not at all what I wanted it to be and just—sorry, Jaem.”
“No, no.” He gestures for him to continue. “Let it out. It’s good for you to process these things.”
“I thought I really fucked up by doing that, you know? She didn’t stay in my room with me that night, she didn’t even talk to me until the next day. Which maybe doesn’t seem bad, but it is for us. But then she said she wanted to do it again, and I…well, I obviously didn’t say no. Maybe I should have.” He picks at his nails, fighting hard with the lump lodged in his throat.
“Honestly, I’m having trouble figuring out why you won’t tell her how you feel.”
“If I tell her and lose her because of it, I genuinely don’t know how I’d live without her. She’s been in my life forever, Jaem. It’s not her fault I can’t keep myself in check,” he says.
“If she doesn’t realize you’re in love with her, she’s really fucking dense.” Jaemin chuckles to himself. “And you’re equally as dense for thinking that she doesn’t love you.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Yes, it is.”
“How?”
“Chenle, you’ve spent every day with her this summer. And I’m not going to pretend to know your business, but I’m sure all the alone time you’ve had hasn’t been innocent. Nobody in their right mind starts sleeping with their best friend without at least a little bit of a worry that they’ll fall in love. Come on, you two are practically dating already anyway.”
“It’s hard, okay?” Chenle brushes the other man off. “We said we’d talk about it at the end of the summer, so I’m gonna save my heart for a few more days.”
“It’s okay to be selfish sometimes.” Jaemin taps the railing once more before he starts his descent down the stairs. “You won’t get what you want if you’re sitting around and watching it pass you by.”
Day 26 | June 26th
He told himself he would hold off on any more physical stuff before he was able to talk to you about what happened last night, but that was…apparently…short lived. Your chest presses against his, both of you on your sides as he gently massages your ass. You made it a point this morning to grind back against him until he was hard and aching. He’s not entirely sure how he’s avoided exactly this for so long.
He pulls your leg up on his waist, stretching you as he rubs his cock against your folds. You moan into his mouth as your slickness coats him, signaling to him that you’re more than ready to take everything he has to offer.
After a few moments of shifting, his tip enters you. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he thrusts the head of his cock in and out. Chills already break out along his body, his palms sweaty as he teases you.
“Please,” you whimper. “I need more.”
“Greedy girl,” he scolds you, slowly pushing all the way in. “Pretty baby just wants to be full, huh?”
“Only you,” you mumble, nearly incoherently as you try to rock your hips. “Only greedy for you.”
Under normal circumstances, he’d care about the sound of the bed squeaking, or the way the headboard taps the wall with each of his thrusts, but all he’s thinking about is fucking good this position allows him to feel you.
After fucking you raw, the condom almost hinders the feeling of you clenching around him, but he tries to focus on giving you as much pleasure as he can.
“C’mon, tell me what you want.” Chenle bucks his hips hard, making you whine.
“Touch me. Wanna cum.” Your head lolls forward, forehead smacking into his chest.
“Touch you where, baby?” He pushes you further. “You’re already soaking my cock, what else could you need?”
“Lele, please—”
“I’ll stop,” he warns you. “Neither of us will finish if you don’t use your words.”
Dazed, you let out a frustrated moan, and he smirks at you.
“M-my clit,” you whisper. “Please touch me there.”
Your arousal squelches around him with each of his thrusts, and you squirm as you yearn for your orgasm that’s just out of reach. He considers teasing you more, but you look so fucking good like this, walls pulsing and begging for release, he can’t deny you.
His hand snakes down your body, and he kisses your jawline. “Don’t cum ‘til I say you can, okay? I’d hate to punish you when you’ve done so well so far.”
“If y—fuck.” You cut yourself off when his finger comes in contact with your swollen, aching bud, and your nails scratch down his back. He knows you won���t be able to hold back if he touches you in the right way.
“You gotta wait for me, baby, I’m almost there.” He thrusts harder, the creak of the bed becoming more prominent as he continues barely rubbing your clit.
“Lele.” You clench your eyes shut. “I c-can’t, oh my God.”
“But you’re so good.” He slams his hips against yours. “So fucking good, just a little longer.”
Your entire body shakes. He didn’t think he’d ever find something like this so arousing, but when you look at him and your eyes are welled with tears from your need, he curses, thrusts one more time, and cums hard into the condom when he’s buried deep inside you.
He can’t remember the last time he came this much, and he wishes he didn’t have this stupid fucking piece of rubber on. The idea of painting your insides white has him thrusting through his overstimulation to bring you to your peak.
He applies more pressure to your clit, pinching it, rubbing it until you bite down on his shoulder hard as your walls and body convulse in his grasp. Cursing at the jolt of pain he feels, he moans when he realizes how it adds to his pleasure.
“Holy shit,” he whispers as you let go of him.
“Asshole.” You laugh, attempting to catch your breath.
“I don’t know,” he mumbles, scratching up and down your back. “It felt like you liked it.”
“Yeah, I hope that bite mark scars permanently.”
“Laying claim on me, are you?”
Oh, how he wishes you would.
Day 28 | June 28th
Today is arguably Chenle’s favorite day of the summer. Ironic, since it’s the second to last full day he has with all of his friends, but the tradition set is what makes him think this way.
A bonfire crackles in front of him, his arm over your shoulder as everyone stands around the climbing orange flame. The goal is each person writes all of their regrets down from the past year, and what they hope to accomplish over the next, and then they burn it. It’s an odd positivity ritual that none of them have ever skipped.
Chenle wrote his down the night before after you fell asleep.
Regrets:
I regret not telling (Y/N) I love her. Again.
I regret not seizing every opportunity that presents itself to me.
I regret wasting my life away while everything I’ve ever wanted is right in front of my eyes.
I regret shutting down and allowing my friends to help me.
I regret not advancing in my chosen career path.
Hopes:
I hope I will be able to express myself thoroughly.
I hope I will be able to tell (Y/N) my feelings.
I hope those feelings will be reciprocated.
I hope, above all, that she’s happy.
He glances around, taking a look at everyone around him. Jaemin, Jeno, Heewon, Donghyuck, Mark, Chaeyoung, and even you. Each person has had such a fundamental hand in the making of the person he is today, and a lot of times, he takes that for granted.
“Okay, who wants to go first?” Mark asks.
“I will,” you say, stepping up.
Chenle watches you with adoration, wishing he could move forward with you, but knowing there are some times where you have to shine on your own.
“Another year.” You clear your throat. “All of you mean the world to me. You helped me when I was twelve and in desperate need of a confidence boost, and you help me now at twenty-three when sometimes all I need is a drink and a cookie.”
A chorus of laughter falls from everyone.
“Mark, thank you for all of the midday pep-talks and reality checks. Jeno, thank you for being the comedic relief right when I always need it. Jaemin, thank you for always knowing what to say, no matter the situation. Chae, thank you for saving me from myself more times than I can count. Hyuck, thank you for knowing exactly when I want ice cream and a rant session. Heewon, thank you for never judging me despite my shit decisions.”
You turn back to Chenle, the gleam in your eye reflecting the billions of stars from the sky above.
“Chenle, thank you for never underestimating me and for knowing me better than I know myself. For all of the years we’ve had, and all the ones we will have.”
“You’ve got all of mine,” Chenle says to you.
With a final grin, you take your folded up piece of paper out of your pocket and toss it into the fire, and everyone watches as it burns to ash. Once you’re satisfied, you move back to Chenle and hug him tightly.
He deflates in your grasp, cradling the back of your head and relishing in the weight of your words.
Mark goes next, then Hyuck, Chae, Heewon, Jaemin, and Jeno, leaving Chenle to be the last one. He purses his lips, twirling his own note in his fingers as he glances over his shoulder at you.
It takes him a while to think of what he wants to say despite the fact he’s been looking forward to this since the vacation started. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the smokiness of the air mixed with ocean salt, and really, truly thinks of how he’s made it as far as he has.
“Well, guys, another year down.” He shakes his head as he thinks of how fast time passes. “Life wouldn’t be the same without you guys. We get busy throughout the year, but I’m really happy we get to spend this time here and that we’re able to be together this entire month. Everyone has their unique roles in this friend group, and it’d be incredibly off if any one of us weren’t here. So, my thank you is for all of you, for being there for me and making this little bunch into a family. ‘Cause that’s what you guys are. You’re my family.”
He glances back at you much like you had done to him, and he’s met with your dazzling smile. His nerves calm at the sight, and he chews the inside of his cheek as he tosses his paper into the flame.
It’s like he physically feels the hurt, regret, and carelessness from the past year lift off his shoulders, intertwine with the smoke, and disappear. He feels lighter, like he can take on the world. And in this moment, when he sees you staring at him with such adoration, he knows that now is the moment.
No time will ever be the right time, and he’ll never have courage if he doesn’t push himself.
He walks back to you, hands in his pockets. “(Y/N), can I talk to you over there for a minute?”
You nod, and as he guides you a safe distance away, he meets Jaemin’s gaze. The grin of approval is all he needs, and the other man makes sure the friend group is paying attention to him instead of you and Chenle.
“What’s up?” you ask, tilting your head. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, I’m alright.” He pauses and reaches over to grab your hand. “I just…One of my regrets last year was not having courage, and not being able to ask for the things I want because I wasn’t…ready for them, I guess.”
You nod, urging him to continue.
“You’re my best friend. All of this stuff we’ve been through this summer, I need you to know that’ll never change no matter what. If I didn’t have you in my life, I think I’d be screwed.” He chuckles, the nerves gnawing away at his throat and making his voice shake. “This has been the best month of my life, honestly, but I shouldn’t have gone into something like this without being completely transparent.”
To that, you frown, but wait for him to continue.
He takes a moment to work up the strength to tell you, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. His hands shake, and he feels faint, but he knows it’s now or never. He can’t let you leave this place for another year without knowing the truth.
“I…I’m in love with you. And I have been for so long, but I didn’t want to ruin this. When all of this started, I wanted to tell you no because I thought I’d end up getting hurt because of it all. And maybe I still will, but at least now you’ll know the truth.”
He’s not sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t you starting to laugh. His gaze darts back up to yours, and your head is in your hands.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “If that’s not what you wanted, we can still be—”
“Zhong Chenle, you are far too dense for your own good.” You beam at him, reaching up to cup his cheeks and pull him in for a kiss.
He’s in shock at first, but after a second, he’s pulling you as close to him as possible. You swallow his sigh of relief, and when he moves back, he sees the tear streaks down your face.
“Hey, none of that,” he whispers, wiping them away.
“I love you, Chenle,” you tell him. “I’ve wanted to tell you for so fucking long—”
You cut yourself off by connecting your lips to his again, giggles interrupting you every so often.
The rest of the group cheers and yells by the fire, clearly not one of them surprised by this outcome. He leads you back to them, fingers interlocked tightly and a permanent smile etched on his face.
For the rest of the night, he doesn’t let you go. He holds you close, kisses you all over your face, and squeezes you.
He loves you.
He’s in love with you, and you’re not going anywhere.
If this is the cruelest summer he ever has to endure, he’s more than ready for the rest of them.
400 notes · View notes
dixons-sunshine · 3 months
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js read your shopping spree and dying for your haircut fics and omg
can u pretty please, with a bow on top, write another part to that series or like an au where they get separated at the fall of the world and a few season later (preferably that prison era of daryl he was so fawking sexy there like omg) they found each other again and i want some build up to their reunion yk like someone else finds r and brings them in and some ppl kinda chatting abt the new girl or wtv and dars not rlly gaf cuz he kinda getting tired of trying to find r (realistically i don’t think he’d give up easily but let’s js pretend yk) but then they see each other and they’re like omfg the love of my life’s here and safe and like i need that glenn and maggie type reunion but like tenfold bc r and dar alr loved and knew each other before the fall yk and like yeah😣
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idky but i’m a sucker for “r and daryl had a relationship beforehand, got separated, and reunited” trope (?) fic, blurb shit and you’d literally be godsent if u wrote this oml
I Found You | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Summary: When the dead started to rise and the world went to hell, Daryl got seperated from you, the love of his life. After over a year of searching for you and finding no evidence of your survival, Daryl was beginning to give up and count his losses. One day, Carol stumbled upon a wounded woman while out on a run with Glenn, and the two of them decide to accept you into the prison. Little did they know, that would end up being one of the best decisions they could've ever made.
Genre: Angst to fluff.
Era: Prison, pre season 4, post season 3.
Warnings: Swearing, blood, death, mentions of attempted sexual assault (not descriptive)
Word count: 4.3k
A/n: Thank you so much for the request! I've decided to write the au since there's already a part three for the SSHD (Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams) universe in the works, but this request was way too good to not write. I hope you like it! And I absolutely agree with you. There's something about prison era Daryl that just hits different. He was on another level completely.
As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests.
(Just thought I'd say that both third- and second person is used. I referred to the reader in third  person when Glenn and Carol first met her, but it soon shifts to second person when she introduced herself. Just thought I'd let y'all know the shift is intentional.)
“Okay, so I can't guess what you did before all of this correctly, but I bet there is something that I will be right about.”
Daryl looked at Zach skeptically as they trudged through the abandoned store, looking for supplies to bring back to the prison. “Yeah? Wha's tha'?”
“You're brooding, quiet, you like to keep to yourself,” Zach started, leaning nonchalantly against one of the shelves while he watched the archer place multiple different packs and boxes into his bag. “The way you act most of the time would suggest you've never been in a relationship before, but there are clear signs that you were with someone before all of this.”
Daryl stiffened for a moment, his hand lingering above a pack, before regaining his composure and continuing his task. “Wha' signs?”
“Well, for one, you know exactly what kind of tampons and pads to get for the ladies at the prison. I would've just dumped everything in and have them sort through it, but you are only taking specific brands,” Zach pointed out, motioning to the box of tampons Daryl had just put back onto the shelf.
When Daryl didn't reply, Zach took that as his cue to continue. “And while we're on the topic of periods, you seem to know exactly what to get the girls for the pain and what to do to curve their bad tempers. What guy would know that if he didn't have a girlfriend before all of this? And to top it all off, and this is totally unrelated to everything I just said, I've seen that locket necklace you keep in your pocket. It's pretty worn out and faded, but you can definitely tell it's something from this generation, so it can't be something that was passed down from a relative, so that brings me to my conclusion. You, Daryl Dixon, had a girl before all of this.”
Daryl sighed, shutting his eyes tightly as he willed the onslaught of memories away. Memories that were too painful to think of, memories that did nothing but remind the archer of his failure. His failure at finding you, the love of his life, after the dead started walking. A failure he had to live with for as long as he remained alive.
Daryl opened his eyes and turned abruptly, leaving the young man behind him as he stalked towards the exit, his bag slung over his shoulder. Zach hurriedly caught up to him, struggling to keep at a steady pace beside him as Daryl strode quickly, wanting to put some distance between him and Zach.
“Woah, man! Slow down!” Zach complained, jogging to keep up with him. “Was it because I brought up the girl thing? I didn't realise it was a touchy subject.”
“It ain't none of yer damn business,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, stalking over to the truck him and Zach were using that day.
“Daryl! Come on, man. It's not that deep.”
Daryl gritted his teeth as he opened up the driver's side door of the truck, throwing his bag into the back before climbing inside. He started up the truck and revved the engine, a warning sign to Zach that he was about to leave, with or without him.
Zach hurriedly scurried into the passenger seat, barely having time to close the door before Daryl started speeding off. He gripped the edge of his seat, sending Daryl an exasperated look.
“Daryl, what the hell? Calm down!” he exclaimed, unnerved by the archer's sudden burst of fury. He'd seen Daryl angry before, but it was never directed towards him. It was downright scary.
“'M calm,” Daryl replied through gritted teeth, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.
“That's what you call calm?!” Zach exclaimed, motioning out towards the road. “You're driving like a maniac! Slow down!”
Daryl simply ignored the man, keeping his eyes trained on the road. Memories of you unwillingly flooded his mind. Memories of your smile, your laugh and your beautiful eyes. Memories of the calm mornings you'd spend with the archer in your shared sad excuse for an apartment where the hot water was a joke. Memories where you'd both stand under the cold water of the shower, Daryl embracing you from behind in an attempt to make the cold water bearable for you. Memories of your loving touch on his skin, your fingers lightly tracing over the scars on his back as you whispered reassuring things into his ear, assuring him that his father's abuse had nothing to do with him, that it wasn't his fault that any of that happened to him.
The more Daryl's mind wandered, the more he remembered some of the bad memories. All those arguments you had with him over some of his escapades with Merle, telling him that it would only get him into trouble, flooded his mind. One of those arguments ended up being the reason he got seperated from you in the first place.
Merle had wanted to go do some drug deal and had barged into your apartment, practically dragging Daryl from your bed. You had begged him not to go, arguing with him that it was a bad idea and that something would go wrong this time. He remembered being so angry at you for insisting during that argument that Merle wasn't good for him, that he needed to cut back on seeing him or set some boundaries with him. He had stormed out of the apartment without so much as a goodbye, and now he regretted it more than he's regretted anything before in his life.
Daryl blamed himself daily for not having listened to you that day. If he had, he never would've been seperated from you and you would've been safe by his side. He longed to have you by his side again, to tell you that he was sorry and that he loved you. However, even after all this time of searching, going out for extended periods of time to look for signs of you, it was to no avail. You were gone, and it was all his fault.
“Daryl? Are... you okay?”
Daryl snapped back to reality at the sound of Zach's concerned voice. He felt a droplet of water roll down his cheek and he hurriedly wiped it away, realising that he was crying. He hadn't even realised that tears had started to well up in his eyes, so immersed was he in his own thoughts.
“'M fine,” Daryl insisted, wiping his eyes hurriedly as he willed the tears away.
Zach furrowed his eyebrows, before realisation dawned on him. “You did have a girl before all of this. You lost her, didn't you?” he asked sympathetically.
Daryl hesitantly nodded, swallowing in an attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat. “I didn't lose her,” he began, bringing the truck to a halt in front of the prison gates as he waited for someone to open them.
“I don't know if she's even dead at all. She's just... Gone.”
“What are we looking for, exactly?” Glenn asked Carol as they scanned over the shelving of an abandoned pharmacy, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
Carol sighed as she looked upon yet another empty shelf, its medical contents a thing of the past. “Anything medical. With all the new people we've been taking in, the supplies we have aren't going to be enough.”
“Okay,” Glenn drawled hesitantly. “But it doesn't look like there's anything worth scavenging here.”
“Let's just do a once over before we check the back. If there's nothing, we head on back. It's getting late,” Carol instructed. Glenn nodded, and the two of them dispersed to sweep through the small store once more.
“So,” Glenn started. “Is it just me, or has Daryl been more grumpy than usual?”
Carol hummed in agreement. “He has. He gets angry at the smallest of things lately.”
“Do you know why?”
“No,” Carol said, shaking her head. “I've asked him, but he won't say anything. Just tells me to mind my own business. It's really odd. He's more like he was back at the quarry. More closed off and snappy and I don't know why.”
“It's ever since he came back from that run with Zach a week ago,” Glenn replied, meeting up with the Carol again to go into the back room. “I've asked Zach if he knows why, but he refused to say anything. Says it's not his place to say.”
Carol frowned, opening the door that lead into the back room. “That's odd. So that means something—”
“Stay right there. Don't move another inch or I swear to god I'll shoot.”
Both Carol and Glenn froze in their tracks. They looked up and locked eyes with a woman, who's eyes were fiery as they darted between them.
“Names. Now. And weapons on the ground.”
“Okay, alright,” Carol responded, trying to diffuse the situation. She slowly lowered her gun and knife to the ground, urging Glenn to do the same. “I'm Carol, and this is Glenn. Now before we answer anymore questions, what's your name?”
The woman hesitated for a moment. “Y/n. What are you doing here?”
“We were looking for some supplies,” Carol spoke truthfully, eyeing the gun aimed at her carefully. “We're running low on medical things.”
After a couple of long, tense moments, with you scanning them from head to toe, you nodded to yourself after spotting something. Deciding to trust them for now, you slowly lowered the gun. However, you quietly hissed in pain, quickly clutching your side as you stumbled to regain your balance. After you steadied yourself, you limped over to your bag and grabbed a few things before handing them over to Carol and Glenn.
“Here. Hope these help. The place was ransacked when I got here. Wasn't a lot left to clear out.”
“Thank you, but we need more than this. This isn't going to last us long,” Carol responded, placing the items into her bag.
“No offence, lady, but I think I need the supplies more than you do at the moment. And I gave you more than half already. I can't spare more,” you said, clutching your side tightly.
“What happened?” Glenn asked, pointing to the your side, unable to stop his curiosity from seeping through.
“Flesh eaters,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. “I was fighting a bunch of them when one lunged at me from the side. It toppled me through a broken window, and a shard sliced me.”
“Don't you have a group? Couldn't they help you?” Glenn questioned.
“Nope. I've been on my own since this whole thing started. I guess I should probably find a group, though. Things like this wouldn't happen if I had backup.”
You gingerly lifted your shirt, and both Carol and Glenn grimaced at the painful sight. The wound was deep and oozing blood. It would definitely need stitches, as well as someone to remove the remaining fragments of glass that still painfully stuck out of the wound. It was terrible. You wouldn't be able to get it all out without a professional.
Suddenly, an idea struck Carol. “You gave us some of the supplies you scavenged without even knowing us. Why?”
“Well, you didn't try to kill me, even after I held you at gunpoint. And by the looks of it, you guys have a group and are set up somewhere. Figured I should do the honourable thing and offer up some medical things if there's kids involved.”
“How do you know there's kids?” Glenn asked, confused.
“I can see the toys in your bag,” you pointed out, motioning to the toy truck that stuck out of the top of his bag. “Figured that adults wouldn't be playing with toy trucks while the world was ending.”
“Still, why would you? You don't owe us anything,” Carol questioned, though her mind was already set on one thing.
“Some might call me naive, but I hope that by doing some good in this fucked up world, karma will decide to do something good for me. That probably makes me stupid as shit, huh?” you replied, laughing before wincing at the pain that shot through your side at the small action.
Carol smiled at you. “We have a group set up not too far from here, at the prison. You can join if you want, but you have to answer three questions first.”
You raised your eyebrows at her. “Three questions? That's it?”
“Yeah.”
You shrugged your shoulders. “Alright, shoot.”
“How many walkers have you killed?” Carol began, watching you closely.
“A lot. Too many to keep track of at this point.”
“How many people have you killed?”
You hesitated for a moment, guilt creeping up on you. “Three.”
“Why?”
“Two of them were bit. They asked me to kill them. The other one... That bastard tried to rape me. I wouldn't let him.”
“I'm sorry,” Glenn said sympathetically.
“It's fine. I'm fine,” you waved him off, before turning your attention back to Carol. “How'd I do? Satisfactory enough?”
Carol nodded. “For me, yes. You'll still need to meet the leader and have him evaluate you, but I think you'll be alright. You'll fit in just fine.”
“Hopefully,” you laughed nervously, instantly paying the price for it with a sharp pain shooting up your side, making you visibly wince.
“Come on, let's get going. We have a doctor who can get that checked out for you,” Glenn prompted. He walked over to you and grabbed your bag, stopping your protest instantly. “It's fine, I've got it. One extra bag won't kill me.”
Together, all of you made your way out of the pharmacy and over to their car. You got settled in the back while Carol and Glenn got into the front, and before long you were setting off to the prison. Your eyes were beginning to droop, but Glenn seemed eager to get to know the new recruit better.
“What were you doing out there on your own anyway?”
“I was looking for my boyfriend. I was hoping that he might still be alive.”
“No luck?” he asked.
“No,” you shook your head, pursing your lips. “I'm beginning to think I might never find him, if he's even still alive.”
“Never say never,” Glenn encouraged you. “You'll find him someday, I know it.”
“I really hope so.”
“Have you seen that new chick Glenn and Carol brought back? She's a real looker.”
“I know, right? You think she's into blondes?”
“Even if she was, I doubt she'd go for your scrawny ass.”
“Easy, boys. She might not even be into guys. I could have a shot with her for all you know.”
Daryl groaned inwardly as he entered the cellblock. The new girl that Glenn and Carol brought in the day before was seemingly the hottest topic of discussion amongst everyone and he couldn't escape it, no matter where he tried to run to. Nobody, apart from Glenn, Carol, Rick and Hershel have officially met her, yet everybody had seemingly already formed an opinion about her. Although there were a lot of different opinions, everyone seemingly agreed on one thing; the new girl was hotter than hell.
Daryl was the only guy in the entire prison that hadn't seen her yet. He was out hunting when Carol and Glenn brought her back and he hasn't bothered to go out of his way to introduce himself to her ever since he got back. He'd meet her soon enough and he wasn't hoping to make friends with her. The more people he managed to keep at arm's length, the better.
“Yo, Daryl. What do you think about the new chick?” a guy called Mitchell asked him, snapping him from his thoughts.
Daryl shrugged. “Ain't met her yet,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Okay, but have you seen her?” another guy called Ronnie asked. “I'm telling you, man, hotter than the sun on a summer day. I'm hoping she'll let me hit at least once.”
“How 'bout ya leave the poor girl alone?” Daryl snapped, turning to face the group that was walking with him. “She ain't even been here two days and y'all are already ogling her like she's some prize to be won. Have some more respect.”
“Jeez,” Mitchell whistled. “What's got your panties up in a bunch?”
“Nothin',” Daryl muttered angrily, turning around to walk further into the cellblock. “Jus' wanna get this fuckin' job done and all y'all can do is yap 'bout some girl ya dun' even know properly. I dun' give two flyin' shits 'bout who or wha' ya talk 'bout, but do it after the job's done. Y'all ain't free loadin' here. Do yer job, earn yer keep.”
“Sorry,” a girl called Ariana muttered, sending him an apologetic look. “What do you need us to do?”
“Take those planks over there and take em to the guard tower. Rick wants to fortify it and wants it done by the end of the week.”
“What are you gonna do?” Ronnie asked, crossing his arms as he sized Daryl up.
Daryl glared at him and squared his shoulders, looking down on his shorter, scrawny frame. “Hershel needs help with somethin'. I believe ya can understand tha' if the doctor needs somethin' done, it's considered top priority?”
Ronnie shrunk under Daryl's intense glare, nodding quickly. “Yeah, of course.”
“Great.”
With that, Daryl turned on his heel and set off to find Hershel. He didn't have to search far, however, because Hershel halted him before he could go outside.
“Daryl, over here,” the old man called after him, halting him in his tracks.
Daryl turned and walked over to Hershel, nodding at him respectfully. “Wha' ya need, Doc?”
“I'm sure you've heard of the girl Carol and Glenn brought back yesterday by now?” Hershel questioned, chuckling at the slight groan Daryl emitted.
“Who hasn't? Apparently she's really good lookin'. Her looks has been all people has to say 'bout her.”
Hershel nodded. “Unfortunately, that is true. Only Rick, Glenn, Carol and myself has had the pleasure of meeting her personally up until this point. She's a lovely woman. Had no problem that there wasn't anything to ease the pain when I had to stitch her side and she's more than willing to get up and start working to earn her keep. She won't be able to for at least another day or so since her side needs to heal up a bit first, but Carol and Glenn did good with bringing her back. She'll fit right in.”
“Good,” Daryl nodded. “She a good fighter?”
“From what I understand, she's been out on her own since the beginning. She's not dead yet, so I'd say she's alright,” Hershel replied, adjusting on his crutches.
“Alrigh', now enough 'bout her. Wha' did ya need me to do?”
Hershel gave him an encouraging pat on the back, confusing the archer. “You're going to be one of the very few people who gets to say they met the new girl for the next couple of days. I was hoping you could help her fix her bunk? One of the legs on the bunk broke and she's dead set on repairing it. She won't let me help because she keeps insisting I've done enough for her, so I told her I would send someone else to help. She'll be expecting you.”
Daryl pursed his lips but nodded, parting ways with the older man. He walked over to the cell that Hershel had pointed towards and stopped at the doorway, hesitating to make his presence known.
You had your back turned towards the door, hunched over as you inspected the leg of the bunk. You weren't aware of the archer that stood a few feet behind you, engrossed entirely in your own thoughts. That was, until he spoke up behind you.
“Hey. Hershel said ya needed help?”
You froze at the voice, willing the supposed hallucination away. You slowly rose to your feet and turned, locking eyes with the one person you've been searching for since the world went to hell—your boyfriend, Daryl Dixon.
The moment Daryl locked eyes with you, a whirlwind of emotions flooded his being. Relief, love, happiness, wonder, sadness, confusion and so much more that he couldn't decipher. Although his first instinct was to wrap you in his arms and never let go of you again, he hesitated, refusing to believe you were real. He took a step back, his eyes wide as he looked at you.
You stared back at him with equal amounts of disbelief. You took a hesitant step forward. “Daryl?” you whispered. The man in front of you looked slightly different; a little bit older and his hair was longer, but there was no mistaking it. The man in front of you was Daryl.
Daryl remained silent, his eyes locked on you as you continued to take agonizingly slow steps towards him. He watched as you stopped in front of him and hesitantly raised your hand, bringing it to rest on his cheek. Daryl instantly melted into your familiar soft touch, and that was all the confirmation he needed. Without another thought, he gently grabbed you and pulled you into his arms, tightly clinging to you as he pressed multiple kisses to the top of your head.
“Yer real,” he whispered, a laugh of amazement falling from his lips. “Yer real. Yer alive. Yer actually still alive.”
You laughed quietly against his chest as you held onto him tightly, never wanting to let go ever again. Your laughter soon turned into sobs, tears of relief and happiness falling from your eyes.
“I thought I'd never see you again,” you whispered through your tears, burying your face into his chest. “I thought you were dead, Dar.”
“'M here,” he whispered into your ear, a few tears of his own falling from his eyes. “'M alive. Yer alive. 'M never lettin' ya go ever again. 'M sorry I ever left tha' day in the first place.”
“It's okay. I'm sorry, too. I never should've asked you to cut Merle out of your life. He's your brother. It was unreasonable of me.”
“Nah, it wasn't,” he denied, placing another gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Ya were jus' lookin' out fer me. I never shoulda gotten mad at ya in the first place.”
“Let bygones be bygones?” you whispered against his chest.
Daryl chuckled before nodding. “Yeah, of course.”
The two of you held onto each other for a couple of moments longer until you pulled back. Daryl was about to voice his protest until you pressed your lips against his in an urgent kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms settled on your waist, pulling you closer into him as he kissed you back. There was no lustful hunger behind the kiss—there was only love and longing, two broken parts finally reuniting and mending together as one.
Daryl pulled back and placed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “I missed ya so much,” he whispered, willing the lump in his throat to go away.
“I missed you too. More than you even know,” you replied, cupping Daryl's cheek with one of your hands. “But I found you. I finally found you.”
Daryl leaned into your touch before turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand. However, he soon pulled away from you and strode over to your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.
“C'mon,” he said, taking your hand in his as he pulled you to walk beside him.
“Where are we going?” you questioned, falling into step beside the man you loved.
“There ain't no need fer ya to sleep in there. Yer gonna sleep with me in my cell,” Daryl said simply, pulling you along to his cell.
You giggled but said nothing, silently following him into his cell. When he placed your bags down on the floor, Daryl placed a soft kiss on your lips before stalking out of the cell.
“Where are you going?” you called after him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.
“'M gonna find tha' prick who objectified ya and teach him a lesson. Yer hot as fuck, yes, that much I can accept people sayin', but Ronnie implied he wanted to sleep with ya outrigh'. He's really gonna regret sayin' tha' in a few moments. Dun' even try to talk me outta it.”
“Hey, Dar?” you called after him, halting him in his tracks. “I love you.”
Daryl smiled at you. “I definitely love ya more.”
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