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#please stop being mean we were making progress
erixadraws · 7 months
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Because I actually liked Mal last chapter and thought okay let’s give him another chance
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miheartsedthings · 2 months
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dom billy x sub reader. angry sex.
He’s had a fight with Neil and takes his anger out on you as stress relief. Full on rough missionary sex where he breaks the bed. Ofc that doesn’t stop him hehe. some after care at the end please.
Took me a minute to figure out how I wanted to do this, but it finally came through! Hope it's everything you hoped for :)
@billysbot
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Use Me.
NSFW 18+ only. DomBillyX SubbyReader
Warnings: Angry sex, punishment, mean/aggressive Billy, dacryphilia, rough play, degradation/praise kink (a blend).
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Billy can’t seem to ignore calls from his dad and he doesn’t know why. When his name pops up on his phone every instinct in him says to ignore it, yet theres some deeper drive pushing him to follow through. He picks up, and then hates himself for it later. That man has a talent for disguising his cruelty as parental concern and being states away from Hawkins hasn’t changed that. He’ll call every other week to ‘check in’, interrogating Billy about his progress in college or how much he’s making at the garage. What bothers him most is when his dad inquires about you. 
“That girl still putting up with you?” or “Sure you didn’t drug her?” and sometimes, “What do you two even do together? Paint each other’s toenails?” 
All of this is accompanied by laughter, playing it off as a joke until Billy shows it bothers him. At which point Neil turns reprimanding. 
“So damn emotional. Did I not teach you well enough how to be a man?” 
Be a man. 
Billy’s told you about growing up under that command and how impossible it was. Neil didn’t want his son to be a man. He didn’t want a loyal, intelligent, passionate kid. The kid he had. He wanted a pet. Someone he could direct and who would follow orders. Take a kick from time to time and never complain, never fight back, only bend further and further. It was impossible to be this without filling up with some poison. Tidal waves of anger and despair. Billy had felt all of it throughout his life and now he’s away. He’s far from Hawkins and his dad but he’s still carrying it around. His weather follows him, storm clouds erupting above his head when Neil calls. Why the fuck does he answer? 
He started the morning with one of these calls and like no other time it’s filled him with so much fury. His anger persisted through the day, making work drag on. Even his workout was intense as he strained his body, full of indignation. He came home still swelled with anger, his mind rolling over questions that were infuriatingly hard to answer. Why did it still matter what his dad thought of him? Why does he care so much when he makes jokes about you? Why does he answer? Why can’t he stop feeling like a failure no matter what he accomplishes? No matter how often you tell him you love him why can’t he stop wondering when you’re gonna leave? Why can’t he truly trust anyone? 
He comes home, sweaty, and miserable, anger seeping from his pores. He doesn’t look at you when he walks into the little apartment. 
“Hey,” you call from the kitchen where you’re leaning against the counter flipping through recipes on your phone. 
“Hey,” he mumbles and disappears into the bedroom, his gym bag on his shoulder. Instantly, the air is tense. You’ve been around Billy long enough to know when he’s close to erupting. You pad over to the bedroom, leaning against the doorjam. His face is red and tight, eyes dark as he strips from his musty gym stuff. He still won’t look at you. 
“I’m thinking about salmon for dinner but I don’t know.” 
He doesn’t respond, tossing his clothes toward the hamper but not in it. You cross the room and correct this. 
“We could order out–”
“I don’t care.” 
His tone is careless and heavy with warning as he marches naked into the bathroom. Your eyes slip down to watch his beautiful asscheeks as he goes. Then the door shuts, cutting off your view. You hear the shower turn on and plop down on the bed, hearing the old frame creak. You’re not sure what’s got him upset this time, but you’d hoped going to the gym would fix it because you’ve been missing his body all day and it’s killing you. If you were allowed to touch yourself when he wasn’t around, you would’ve played with your toys while he was working out. It would’ve been so nice to fill yourself, fucking your cunt with the dildo he’d gotten you for Christmas, imagining it was him. You catch yourself rubbing your thighs together, your lips so wet they slip against each other. 
You lay back and pull up your skirt and your hand goes to your panties for just a moment. Just one squeeze of your clit between your middle and ring fingers, making it pulse. A soft sound escapes and you snatch your hand away, pulling down your skirt. It doesn’t matter how bad you want it, rules are rules and you have to be good. You get up and cross to the mirror on the dresser. Maybe it’s not so unfortunate that he’s mad tonight. He’ll need a release for all that aggression.  
You change into a dress you know he loves on you. The one you’re not allowed to wear out because it hugs you so well, showing off your cleavage and riding up when you walk. Once dressed, you pluck a book you’ve read a dozen times from the shelf and lay on your stomach on the bed, ass facing the bathroom door. You consider taking off your panties, but he likes peeling them off himself. So you lay there, unable to see a single word on the page because all you can visualize is him diving face-first into your pussy. 
He’d eaten you for a solid hour a week before, slow and sloppy while you lay there melting into his mouth again and again. The memory sends a shiver through you. Then, you remember just the other night, you’d aced a an exam he helped you study for and your reward had been getting filled from behind while a vibrating buttplug pulsed in your ass. You came so hard it made you cry. God, you want that again. Behind you, the shower turns off, and your stomach flutters with anticipation. You stop your wiggling hips, sometimes they move on their own but right now you have to be patient.  
The bathroom door opens and you jolt, staring uncomprehendingly at the book in your hand. You hear Billy stop in the doorway, feel his eyes on you, giving you goosebumps. The silence feels like a living thing. It breathes between you and hardly leaves room for your shallow inhales. He moves, and his towel is flung across the bed beside you, flustering your nerves again. 
“What’cha doin?” 
His tone hasn’t softened a bit, and when you look back at him, you’re met with the same cold expression. If anything, his anger has set in further. His brows are a hard line above his darkened eyes, his jaw set. He looks at you, completely unamused and you’re nervous for a moment that you won’t pull this off. Then, your confidence returns, you raise your brows, your face relaxed into perfect innocence. 
“Me?” you ask, your voice kitten soft, “I thought I’d read a little before making dinner.” 
While you speak, you slowly move back onto your knees, your ass poking up for a moment before you sit up, your legs folded under you and sitting on your heels. The perfect little princess pose. Your gaze moves down his chest, eager to see the rest of his naked body, but he grabs your chin, lording over you. 
“Uh uh, eyes up here,” he says. You look up at him, and you know he can see the desire in your eyes. He shakes his head. “You don’t want this right now, angel.” 
His warning makes you salivate. 
“Of course I do.” you say with complete sincerity “Fuck it all out.” 
A thrill pulses down into his groin. He glares. 
“I’m gonna hurt you.” 
“Please.”
He scoffs. 
“Really, baby?” 
You nod, your mind full of fantazises, his cock driving into you, your eyes spilling over with tears, his strong arms forcing you into a hold while he cums on your face or in your ass or- he yanks you out of your thoughts and off the bed. 
“Fuck-so fuckin dumb, you sweet little idiot-get on your knees.” 
You obey, dropping to your knees, back in Princess Position. Finally allowed to look, your eyes are filled with his beautiful dick as he strokes it in your face. Your mouth falls open before he can ask, your tongue lulling out to eagerly flick at the drops of precum seeping from the tip. He grabs a fistful of your hair, sharply yanking you back. 
“Did I say you could taste it yet?” you shake your head. “Huh?” 
“No.” He smacks you quickly across the cheek. “No, sir.” you say, nearly panting from excitement. Your brain goes foggy as you watch him stroke himself. He lifts up his shaft, pushing your face underneath. Instinctively, you gently suck one of his balls into your mouth. 
“There,” he groans. “That’s what you get until you earn my cock.” 
You accept this, setting to work messaging his balls with your mouth, one and then the other, making him groan each time you envelope one of them. Your hands are crossed behind your back, and you know if you move them he’ll punish you, but you want so badly to get a hand around the base of his balls while you suck them. You moan at the thought, and the feeling of his nutsack on your face. 
He pulls your head back and you open your mouth just in time for him to roughly shove his dick down your throat. 
“Fuck,” he groans, pushing your head onto it with both hands. You squirm as it meets the back of your throat and he starts fucking your face harder than you were prepared for. Your throat fills with thick spit, your eyes already stinging. “You’re such a good slut, baby,” he says “Dumb. Fucking. Princess.” 
With those three words he thrusts his cock into the back of your throat three sharp times and on the last time you gag, your throat starting to hurt.
“Ohhh,” he chuckles darkly, then pulls your head back just long enough to stick his fingers down your throat, collect a gooey spread of saliva and slap it across your face, rubbing it over your lips before ramming himself back in. He helps guide your head as you take his length, the sound of his cock churning your throat mixes with his gruff moans. You can't help wiggling, finding friction grinding against your heel. You moan as you work your clit against your heel, your panties so wet they're stuck to you. 
He yanks out his dick and bends to bring his dark eyes level with yours, glaring.
“Are you fucking yourself without my permission?” 
You shake your head. You didn't think it was possible for his expression to harden any more, but it does, and his grip on your hair tightens.  
“You're picking the wrong time to disobey me.”
He commands you to move your heels out to the sides so you're no longer able to sit on them. Then, he reaches down and yanks up the front of your thong, making you yelp as your sensitive pussy is instantly in pain. 
“Hold this.” 
Your hand takes up the thong, now pulled taut up to your belly button, so tight you feel every pulse of blood to your already aching clit. He reaches down and smacks it, making you jolt and yelp again. 
“Don't you move.” 
You nod, and then he's back in your mouth. He slams himself in until your lips are flush against him and then fucks your throat. Spit dribbles from your chin and you struggle to breath as he stuffs your mouth over and over. You can't stop feeling the ach in your clit, screaming for release from the tension of your panties. Billy uses your throat like a stress reliever, unrelenting in the way he pounds into it, his head falling back in pleasure. Your eyes travel up, admiring the rolling mounds of muscle along his body. His strong, arms and chiseled shoulders, all the way up to his throat, where his Adam’s apple is on display, God, you sometimes fantasize about rubbing your clit around that perfect bone. 
Your jaw burns, and your eyes water, clouding your vision. Your mouth is just a hot, softened hole for him to play with. He looks down at you, admiring the empty look in your eye. Meanwhile, your legs are falling asleep. 
“There she is, my favorite little dummy, finally being good for me.” 
A rush of pleasure pulses harshly through your tortured cunt and tears finally spill down your cheeks from the roaming flushes of pain in your body. Billy gives you a few more merciless thrusts before pulling your head back, leaving you slack jawed and panting, drool slicked down your chin. 
“Get up,” he says, grabbing you by the arm he forces you to bend over. You know better than to let go of your panties or move your other arm from behind your back, so you land face first in the duvet while he runs a finger along your horribly tender pussy. 
“Looks like it hurts.” He says, a sadistic thrill in his voice. 
“Yes sir,” you whimper. You don't see the little smile on his face when you say that. 
“Let me help.” 
You think he's going to say you can let go, instead he smacks your ass so hard it genuinely scares you, forcing you to cry out in pain and surprise. The sting is still bright when he does it again and then a third time, drawing pained whimpers every time. You bury your face into the duvet. 
“Better, yeah?” 
You don't answer, and he's not really asking. He shoves two fingers in your pussy, a bittersweet rush of pleasure bumps against your tortured clit. He moans at the feeling of your pussy gripping his fingers. 
“So greedy for me.” 
He grabs you, tossing you on your back so roughly the bed frame creaks again. You quickly correct your hand, pulling it from behind you and placing it on your belly, where he likes it. Your eyes still teary, you're praying he releases your clit, but be doesn't. Instead, he kneels on the ground, a cruel grin taking over his features as he places his hot mouth over the cloth choking your pussy. It's so close to being pleasurable, so close to the thing you want that it actually makes you start whimpering. 
“Please,” you whine, earning a rough slap against your clit, making you cringe in pain. 
“Did I say you could speak?” 
You shake your head. 
“No, sir.” 
“I didn't think so.” He shakes his head “I'm really trying to be nice to you, baby.” 
He grabs you and repositions you on the bed, getting between your legs. Your mind fills with pleading for him, your desperation clear on your face as you impatiently watch him stroke his cock just outside your entrance. 
“Hold that leg back,” he commands and you use your free hand to obey, holding your leg behind the knee while he pushes down the other one, lining up with your cunt. Please, please. But your hopes are dashed when he pulls your panties aside just enough to push his cock in, but not enough to end your suffering. A little sob leaks out as his thick length fills you. 
“Fuck,” he groans, his eyes rolling closed. “Such a perfect pussy.” 
His cock fills you, adding internal pressure to the strain against your clit. His hand comes down over your throat as he picks up speed, staring you right in the eye as he drills into you harder and harder until every smack stings your ass. He fucks you like he hates you and all you can do is take it, tears streaking down your cheeks. Pained little sobs blend with moans as your body is overwhelmed with conflicting tides. Meanwhile, Billy is in pure bliss. His cock stretches your pussy just enough, filling you so much you're kind of amazed you can take all of him inside. 
He grabs the hand holding your panties and gives it a yank, forcing you to yelp in pain, a fresh crop of tears start falling and at the sight of it Billy moans again, keeping up his punishing rhythm. He pounds you into the bed, and after one particularly hard thrust you feel one of the support beams snap underneath you. For the first time all day, you see Billy smile. His hand goes to your panties again and you flinch, bracing for the pain. 
“Want these off?” 
You nod rapidly. 
“Yes, sir. Please.” 
 “So polite, what a sweet little whore you are.” 
He slips your panties off and the relief that washes over you is so immense you start to cry as he gets back to fucking you. 
“Fuck,” you whimper out, unable to help yourself. The contrast is so incredible, and your clit is so sensitive that every brush against his pelvis makes your body shiver. Billy zeros in on this and asks you to touch yourself while he fucks you, your other hand still holding back your leg. All you can handle are slow swirls on your clit, but it's enough to make the shivers roaming your body constant and heavy. 
Your eyes go unfocused as you get lost in the feeling of him fucking into you over and over. It feels so fucking perfect it makes you sob. 
“Baby,” the word dribbles out against your will and his mouth comes down over yours. He's so good to you, helping you keep quiet because he knows you can't help it. He's so thoughtful. Your breath catches as your stomach drops and you feel yourself getting close. A nervous moan purrs onto his tongue while your pussy is slowly turning to liquid gold. 
“Yeah,” he coos against your lips, “Cum on my cock, cum like a slut.” 
Your pussy walls squeeze around him while your whole body thrums from the inside out, humming like a rung bell. You can't help the tears and the babbling words falling out of your shaky lips as you ride the delicious fullness of this feeling. His hand moves to the back of your neck, still roughly fucking you until his orgasm forces him out of rhythm. 
“Fuck,” he pants “fuck, I love my perfect slut.” 
Those words and his perfect cock are enough to set you off again, your eyes rolling back as he drills you into oblivion for the second time. He pumps thick, hot cum into you, coating you inside and then keeps going, groaning loudly. He kisses your forehead, your brain bleary. Your lower body hardly feels like it exists anymore, all you can feel is a luxurious pleasure and all you can see are his gorgeous blue eyes.
Fuck. This is all you need in life. 
Finally, his hips slow to a stop and the two of you are left panting. The weight of his warm body slowly sinks onto you as he breathes onto your chest. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him. 
He kisses your neck. 
“You okay?” he asks, his voice soft and low. You nod. 
“Are you?” 
His arms wrap around you. 
“I needed that so much, baby.” 
You push your hand into his hair, gently stroking his scalp. 
“What had you so upset, lovey?” 
He snuggles into you, still buried inside you as his body recovers. He groans. 
“Fuck it. C’mere.” 
The two of you make your way into the bathroom where he joins you in a shower. You take your time together, washing each other and taking long breaks to mingle tongues in the gathering steam. His hands are so gentle as they move across your body. So different from the way he was in bed, as a living ball of anger. You lean your head against his shoulder, trying to keep your hair dry but at the same time not caring. 
Later, in warmth and the soft leftover smell of your bodies on the sheets, he pulls you into his lap. He takes your hand into his own, his fingers running along your palm as you lay against him, hearing the rhythm of his breathing. 
“Why do I answer?” 
You’re nearly asleep when he asks this to no one, and your eyes flutter open to find the room growing dark. You can hardly see him in the fading light. Maybe that’s what he wants. In any case, he keeps his eyes down at your hands. You know instantly what he means.
“I don’t know,” you say, “There’s probably plenty of reasons.” 
You turn, touching a hand to his cheek and kissing the other one, your lips trail down to his neck where you nuzzle in, amazed, as you always are, by the warmth he collects inside himself. 
“Fuckin stupid thing to do.” He whispers. 
“It’s not stupid.” you say, softly, your fingers slipping up to play with the hair behind his ear. “It’s just more than he deserves. He’s your dad, so there’s supposed to be something to gain from answering his calls. But he’s a failure, so it’s just bullshit every time.” you yawn, “You’re not stupid, lovey. You’re just too generous.” 
He turns, finding your mouth and enveloping it into a slow, lazy kiss as you lounge on the broken bed. His tongue is soft and salty. 
“Hmm,” you hum as the kiss gives way, “I love you, too.”
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xoxo~
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tadpolesonalgae · 9 months
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Azriel x third-oldest-Archeron-sibling!Reader: Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You
A/N: I was in the mood for a writing a heated argument that turns into an even hotter make-out session, but then it got slightly depressing so…
Warning: slight angst but not much because I can’t take that emotionally :’)
-Part 2[*]-
“How was she today?”
You fight the urge to clench your jaw. The harsh snapping of your book is the limit to how far you’ll allow the leash on your anger to slip. Jealousy? Frustration? Whatever complicated nonsense he’s gotten you tangled up in.
“No hello? What about a how are you today?” You ask tersely. So much for keeping your emotions on a tight leash. His brow narrows a little—you don’t usually bubble over when he asks how your older sister is doing. “You weren’t practically bed-ridden for months,” he replies slowly, gauging your response carefully.
Instantly, guilt weighs in the pit of your stomach, and you look away quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” you soothe hastily. Gods, why did you say that to him? You’re trying to gain his favour, not make him think you’re an ungrateful, self-absorbed sister. “She was fine. We did some baking—well, Elain did some baking, I was reading something. It’s a new book, actually! Because I finished the last one, which was actually pretty good, but this one I think is set in the last war and…” you trail off when you notice the patient smile he’s giving you.
Right. He’s not interested in what book you’re reading, or how you spent the day. He’s not interested in you full stop. He’s interested in Elain. You fight the way disappointment wants to twist the edges of your mouth, instead plastering on a smile that you hope he reads as oops, look at me! There I go again, haha.
“Well,” you say, swallowing the lump in your throat, “she made some cupcakes—I think they were vanilla, and she put something that looked like jam inside. Really good. I’m sure she’d be happy for you to try one—if you ask,” you smile, adding in the details he wants to hear. For the Spymaster, he’s surprisingly open about his interest in Elain to you. But maybe that’s because you’re always so willing to answer any question you can for him.
“I’m glad,” he says, something glimmering in his hazel eyes. “And there were no silent spots? No abrupt changes?” You return your attention to the book in your hands, fingers running over the bound edges, “she was fine all the way. You never would have guessed everything she’s been through.” He hums, pleased with her progress. It’s a sound of contentment, from the back of his throat that you’re certain rumbles throughout his chest. It’s an effort to keep your attention on the book.
It’s been more than two years since the three of you were tossed into the Cauldron. Feyre and Rhysand are happy, Nesta’s made progress on healing herself and is now alarming in love with Cassian, Elain’s taking large steps in a good direction, too. You remember vividly the time when she would hardly utter a word for days, hardly shift her gaze from a strange spot in the middle-distance, how worried she made you and Nesta. And Feyre, obviously, but things were a little…strange at the time. They always had been.
You spent the first few months struggling to hold a meal down, often being wracked with spasms of anxiety and flushes of hot and cold. There was a time you would black out if you stood up too fast, and now you can hold down three meals a day without needing to run to the nearest latrine provided you don’t eat too quickly. You feel like yourself again, but fresher. You know you aren’t the same as you were, though. Not after the Cauldron, but you had no choice but to adapt. With eternity ahead of you, you couldn’t stand the thought of spending it weakened and frail—hardly capable of standing without feeling dizzy.
Maybe you are a little jealous that Elain’s getting all the attention. She’d always been the centre of Nesta’s attention, and while you were on fairly good terms with your oldest sister throughout your childhood, you were no competition for her sharp mind and sharper tongue. Feyre was the wild one, Elain the pretty one, Nesta the cunning one—then there was you.
What’s your place in your dysfunctional family?
“It’s good she seems to be steadily improving,” Azriel says, breaking you from your inner thoughts. You nod dutifully, agreeing with him. “She smiled for most of it, too,” you add, remembering how pleased she’d been when they came out how she wanted—after numerous attempts. “Though she was covered in flour—her hair was practically white!” You laugh fondly, covering your mouth with your hand.
A faint smile appears on his lips and, for just a moment, you let yourself pretend he’s smiling at the sound of your laugh.
But that’s all you have to report back to him, and even if you’ve pleased him, he’ll be finding an excuse to slip off now that he knows she’s been fine. You’ll admit, it’s difficult to remember she’s your sister when he so clearly would choose her over you. It’s not even a competition.
So you swallow your nerves, tuck your hands behind your back and peer up at him. “Hey, you read right?” You ask, keeping a pleasant smile on your lips—lest he think you’re too eager. He blinks out of whatever thought he was having, clearing his gaze as he looks down at you, then nods. “I’ve been known to pick up a book from time to time,” he answers. He’s in a good mood, it seems.
“Do you have a favourite?” You ask, tipping your head at a slight angle, appearing to look at the books stacked on the shelves. “I feel like I’ve been rereading the same story over and over again and want to try something else.”
“You’re asking me to pick just one?” He replies, quirking his brow. The smile that comes to your mouth isn’t as fake, or as controlled as you would like—it stretches your lips thin, showing the gaps either side of the top row of your teeth.
“Okay, give me a couple to have a nose at. So if one bores me to tears, I can pick up another,” you laugh gently, pulling the book tight to your chest, worried you’re showing too much. Does he know how your days often centre around whether he’ll seek you out? The too-short conversations that often revolve around your sister?
“Does Elain read?” He asks, tentatively, and it’s like a stone to your cheek. You clutch the book tighter to your chest, taking in a slow, quiet breath. “I can ask her? Subtly, of course,” you force a smile, fingers digging into the spine of the book. He shakes his head, “I’ll do it. I’d like to see how she’s doing for myself.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, “to be fair, she might be sick of them for how long she was in here last year. They might be an eyesore by now,” you laugh softly. But instead he frowns disapprovingly, like you shouldn’t be making jokes at her expense. And suddenly that urge appears, the urge to confront him about his behaviour—why he never talks to you for you.
“Azriel…?” You say, the smile slipping from your lips, though your make sure your eyes still sparkle a little, keeping them partially crinkled. But then you bite the inside of your lip, and the rest of the mask fades, leaving you raw, and more than a bit scared. If you overthink it, it’ll never get done.
“Why do you…I don’t feel like you ever…like we ever talk. Us,” you say, then flush at the word—so intimate. Us. “What do you mean?” He asks, standing sturdy before you. A seed of frustration sprouts within, but you push the irritation away. “I just…You’re always asking me about Elain.” His brow narrows a bit, and you want to take the words back.
“What else?”
You look up at him, all beauty and classical grace, and such unearthly, ethereal lines and angles to him you wish you knew how to paint like Feyre. “What do you mean, ‘what else’?” You ask, a little hurt.
“I mean, is there something else you want to talk about?” He asks, gently. Carefully.
My book would be nice. I’d like you to ask how I’m doing today, how I’m feeling, what I want to do.
“Something that doesn’t involve my sister, would be nice,” you laugh, giving him a smile that reads, can you really blame me for not wanting to talk about Elain all the time? He doesn’t smile like you’d hoped, but frowns. “Do you not like her?” He asks instead, “did something happen between you two?”
“No,” you say hurriedly. “No—nothing happened, we’re fine. Right as rain. It’s just…you always ask after her, and I feel like that’s the only reason you approach me.” You swallow, having begin to put the truth out there for him. “You seem fine talking about other things with Feyre and Nesta, but I can’t remember the last time we talked about something that wasn’t my sister, and I… I don’t really…” You trail off, watching him nervously.
His frown only deepens as he takes you in. “I’m asking out of concern for her well-being, you understand that, don’t you?” He asks.
“I know, I know, but…are you?” You reply, managing to reign in your wince at the blunt question. When he only looks at you without response, you push forward. “I mean, you…you like her, don’t you? That’s why you ask all these questions? Why you care more than the others do?” You say, fighting to keep your voice even as the words come out. “And there’s nothing wrong with that,” you quickly amend, “but, you know, it would be nice to talk to you for you. And you for me. And, you know, she does have a…mate, so, I just thought—”
“What did you think?”
You blink at the sharp tone, his eyes colder than before, more sealed off. Still, you square your shoulders, keeping the book tucked tight against your front. “Well, that, maybe, it would be better to try somewhere else? Instead of investing in someone who’s practically already taken?”
“She doesn’t love him.”
“I know she says that, but—”
“But nothing,” he says, brow narrowing. “The mating bond can’t force someone to fall in love. If she doesn’t want him, she doesn’t have to have him.”
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you shift on your feet beneath his penetrating gaze. “Feyre and Rhys worked out,” you manage, eyes flitting away from his, focusing on the book in your hands. “And she didn’t love him at first.” The paper’s old and crisp—worn with age. “Then Nesta and Cassian also got together, too,” you add, the pads of your fingers dragging over the pages, “and you saw what Nesta was like. How badly she was struggling. They didn’t look like they were going anywhere but destruction, but—”
“Are you done with the nosey speculation into other people’s relationships, or is that how you’ve found yourself filling your time?”
Again you blink at him, caught off guard by the ice in his tone. “I’m not saying it’s wrong to pursue her, Azriel,” you appease—try to. “I’m just saying maybe you could try looking…elsewhere, you know? Maybe try something with someone else? That won’t end badly?”
“You don’t know it will end badly,” he replies, all former warmth gone, no trace of it in his beautifully designed features. “It will for someone. Even if you and Elain do somehow end up together, what about Lucien? If it were Feyre and Rhys, or Nesta and Cass, would you think it okay for someone to try and separate them? When they were chosen to be together?”
“Bad pairings happen. Rhys’ parents are a fine example.”
“Yes, but they’re rather suited for one another, don’t you think?” You ask, pushing forward, “Elain’s always excelled at social events. She easily settles into the flow of conversation—she knows what to say, and how to act to put people at ease around her. And Lucien does the same. He knows how to draw ties between people where there seem to be none, just like her. He knows how to keep conversation flowing without pushing it, how to keep things at the right pace, just like her.”
“While you…” you pause, and his jaw tightens.
“Go on,” he says icily, “tell me why think I’m undeserving of her.”
“I don’t think its a case of deserving, Azriel,” you say quickly. “But you…well, you try to blend into any corner you can when there are more than three people in the room.”
His brow narrows, “I didn’t realise you’d been keeping tabs on me.”
“Yes, well, you’re the only one I’m interested in, so.” Your voice is soft, bladed, honed. Resigned. You lips press into a thin line as your eyes flicker away from his, too embarrassed to look even in his general vicinity. You had never anticipated laying your heart to bare to be so…scary? Terrifying?
Anti-climactic.
Admitted in such a quiet, understated way. As if he isn’t the first one you’ve ever felt so strongly for. As if he isn’t the first one who’s given you a vague understanding of why some women were so happy to do whatever their husbands told them. Why they were so happy to live in subservience, and why that’s not what it was.
“You think you’re deserving of me?” He asks, coldly. Shame and embarrassment heat your features, but you manage to shoot back, “do you think you’re deserving of her?” You cross your arms over your chest, trying to prevent yourself from being intimidated by his height, and muscle, and beauty, and overall damned attractiveness that makes you weak in the knees.
His upper lip twitches in a repressed snarl, anxiety spiking in your chest. “Answer my question,” he says, softly, an edge to his voice. You swallow, “answer mine.” You’ve never demanded something from someone before, but it’s out there now, and it feels surprisingly good to insist on something for yourself.
He regards you silently, and it takes a remarkable strength to stand still beneath his icy gaze—knowing that he’s judging what he’s seeing. Weighing if you’re worth his answer.
“I think I gave a hint of my interest for her,” he says, eyes glittering with something cold that you’re unaccustomed to have turned on yourself. “And she reciprocated with her own signs.” He stares you down, unyielding, and powerful, and you want to run and hide. “What about you?”
You purse your lips to keep them from trembling as heat crawls beneath your skin with humiliation. But—no. Get over it. Make it through. Survive something else. “I think I’m tired, and hurt from knowing that you only talk to me because you want to know how my sister is doing,” you confess, voice wobbling. “I think it’s cruel to continue asking after her when I so obviously answer every question you have just so you might pay me a little more attention.”
There’s no bite to your words, and they come out softer and weaker than you had expected. You feel tired, and drained. Eyelids heavy and heart rate spiking every other beat, numerous crescent shaped indentations on the heel of your palms.
“Maybe you’d be better off turning your affections somewhere they’d be appreciated,” he says, icily. Your heart aches, and it takes a few humiliating moments for you to gather yourself enough that you won’t burst into tears when you again find your voice. “That’s all you have to say?” You manage, fingers trembling behind your back.
“Maybe if you were even half the female she is, I’d be tempted to show a little interest,” he snarls softly, eyes glittering with cold rage.
It feels like a smack to the face, a punch to your stomach. Your eyes go wide, then blur, hot pressure building steadily. You dig your nails into the binding of your book, and move to walk past him—at least preserve what little dignity is still intact by refusing to let him see you cry. He already barely sees you as a woman, you won’t win any points with your blubbering. He wants a female, not a girl.
But he seems to realise what he’s said and turns, gripping your upper arm to keep you from leaving. You allow him to stop you, if only because demanding he let you go would show your tears. “I didn’t mean that,” he says quietly, and you can hear the pity in his voice. “I spoke in anger, I did not mean to upset—”
“Get those hands off me,” you snarl, turning on him with defensive ire blazing in your pupils. Rage fresh from the forges.
He recoils as if you burned him. Retreats a step.
“Not nice, is it? Targeting someone’s insecurity—rubbing salt into an open wound?” You snap, blinking away the tears and pulling your arm back to yourself. “Don’t come asking me for updates on Elain again. I don’t want to talk to you if your only interest is in getting between her legs.”
He’s silent for a moment, and you debate just running from the library—you can feel the storm in him brewing, and you’re not sure you’re ready for him. But he doesn’t wait for you to decide, because the storm breaks right then and there. “At least she has someone interested in getting her into bed,” he says softly, hazel piercing into you. “Can you say the same?”
Mortification flushes your skin, mouth parting in humiliation. “I—…This is inappropriate,” you hiss to hide your burning shame. Because no, it’s always been Elain and Nesta to be pursued. His eyes gleam, reading your thoughts clear as day in your expression. “Thought not.”
Pain twists viciously across your chest, heart strings being plucked within an inch of snapping—pulled taught around your throat. “If I’ve never taken a man to bed, it is not because I am unwanted. Rather that I would not waste my self nor my time on someone I was not sure about. That I did not want with everything I have,” you whisper hoarsely—the final layer stripped bare for him to slice and dissect.
But then he steps forward, and without thinking, you yield a step. He’s not perturbed, and takes another. “You admit you have no experience in bed, yet think you could handle me?” He snarls softly, wings flaring ever so slightly at his back, shadows thickening. “I don’t think it’s a matter of handling you, Azriel.” His name is a little more than a whisper from your mouth. One he tracks eagerly.
“No?” He asks, stepping forward again, slowly herding you. “Then what?” You swallow, trying to stand your ground, but the sense of him is so overpowering, he threatens to obliterate every ounce of your own self. “I think it would be a matter of learning. And if you think I’m unprepared, then Elain is definitely no better off, so that clearly isn’t your issue.”
“At least she’s shared the bed of a man before, at least she would know what to do.” You don’t correct him that you have, in fact, shared a bed with a male before. A few in fact, by this point. Nesta’s the bad influence. He steps forward again, and he’s towering over you, hazel glittering between his shadows. “At least she wouldn’t lose her head over the slightest touch.”
And then his hands have landed softly on your hips, and your head is silent. Only his touch on your body, his warmth on your skin, seeping into your clothes. Does he find your shape pleasing? Is he feeling this mind-numbing shock? The tingling at his fingertips where they’re pressing into you?
For a too-long moment you just stare at him, thoughts eddying about without a destination, floating throughout your conscious.
“Still in there?” He taunts quietly, pushing you back, turning you gently as he feels the heat radiating from your skin, the stiffness to your body beneath his touch. It’s only when a hard, wooden shelf digs into the base of your spine that you realise he’s pushed you against the case. You open your mouth—to say what, you don’t know. He beats you to it either way. “You want to prove you haven’t already lost your mind?” He says softly, voice like a lover’s touch. You can do nothing but stare at him, panting softly, completely at his mercy. “Tell me to stop, or I’ll keep going. Say no, and it finishes,” he murmurs, keeping you pressed tight between his hips and the book case. “But I think you’ve already lost.”
You blink up at him, hardly a thought behind your eyes.
In the back of your mind, you’re struggling frantically to decode his words, translate them into something that makes sense. And then his challenge clicks, and you take a sudden, deep breath. You need to tell him to stop, to show him you’re still in control of yourself—that you haven’t lost your head over the slightest touch.
But then his mouth latches over yours, tongue prying your lips apart, and your efforts of rebellion are washed away. You go all warm, and soft, and pliable in his hands, melting like butter as you coat him. His piercing hazel eyes lock with yours as his mouth slants, one hand rising to the curve of your spine, pulling you against his front.
How are you supposed to stand against him when he annihilates everything that you are with the softest brush of his fingers—fingers that are now tracing up the path of your spine, reaching that final notch as they tangle with delicious pressure in your hair. His gaze cuts into you as his tongue drags across your own, flicking at the roof of your mouth.
He’s utterly unruffled, and you feel like you’re on the verge of bursting into flame right there, setting him ablaze in the process.
But then you’re again subverting his expectations, your hands flying over his shoulders as you tilt your head to allow him deeper. The only sign of surprise he allows is a blink of his eyes, but you’re already lifting onto your tiptoes—the swell of your breasts dragging over his chest in a way you must’ve learned males like. But where would you have learned?
Your arms tighten, then your hips are pressing against him, and—you’re fighting back, he realises. And for the first time in a long, long time, he feels excitement flare deep inside him as you stride to meet him. No matter that you aren’t Elain: he’s hungry, and you can make your own decisions. If you want him to stop, you need only say the word, and he’ll be off you. But if you don’t…well, he’s not going to be the one who backs out first.
He has a damn point to prove—that you have no idea what you’re getting into with him.
Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb
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hunnylagoon · 4 months
Text
Right Where You Left Me
Pt 2: Jailbird
Ellie Williams x reader
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I want to write a poem about you but I’m afraid it won’t be enough. I almost feel ashamed that I want you to fit into a word because we both know that you are beyond anything that can be put on paper.
Premise: You and Ellie were childhood friends before you drifted apart. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find there way back to each other. While you both visit home for winter break, events unfold and it is no longer possible to avoid each other.
Warnings: Angst / homophobia / brief violence / reader has religious issues
Part one here!
Part three here!
Part four here!
I may have been wrong to say that I could never hate Ellie. Fuck she was vicious, in the most passive-aggressive way too. She's so sly about it that I can't even get mad without seeming irrational.
Winter break finally rolled around and I had yet to make any progress with Ellie it was whatever the opposite of progress is. If she wanted to hate me, that was fine, I could do the same, I could be petty. It's now December and all of this bullshit started in September, she could hardly be courteous.
Fuck her.
I had survived mid-terms and finals but the way Ellie was acting had me skipping happily towards the edge. She will wash a whole sink of dishes and leave just my fork, or Venmo request me if I ate one of her grapes. Everything had gotten worse when Dina, Abby, and Cat all left to visit their families for winter break leaving just Ellie and I, without the girls there to hold us to the house rules we were at each other's throats.
She was foaming at the fucking mouth to tear me apart. There was no level-headed Abby or fun-loving Dina, not even Cat who was just mellow. Just me and Ellie verbally abusing each other. "Fuck off, with your wild animal teeth," I spat, slamming the dish cupboard closed with a loud thud.
"Wild animal teeth?" She repeats "Wow, you're getting creative, I'll give you that," Ellie's gaze held a certain bitterness "Heard you were on your knees again last night and I don't mean praying."
My eye almost twitches at her words and it takes everything in me not to throw a ceramic bowl at her. I hated her, I hated her freckled face, and eyes as sharp as knives, just hearing her raspy voice, and seeing her sardonic smile made me want to keel over and let the earth wrap me in her flourishing greenery. I often wanted that to happen. I was trying to refrain from going home as I didn't want to spend the entire break with my family but I was starting to think nothing was better than this, I was set to leave the following day (Christmas Eve) anyway but I was seconds away from grabbing my bag and jumping into my car. "Can you just learn to be fucking civil?"
"Why would-
"Because we were sixteen years old when that stupid shit happened!" I spat "You're holding a grudge from when we were sixteen," I reiterated, searching her features for some sign that I'd gotten through to her.
"It's not like you've changed since any of that happened." She stands, unnervingly calm on the other side of the kitchen island. "You were always awful since we were young, always crying, always emotional, always explosive, my dad said you're like a birch tree, one spark and you burst into flames."
"Fuck off."
"You always had to have the attention," Her eyebrows furrow "Nothing was your fault, blame being fucking erratic and insane on your parents."
"You don't know my parents half as well as you think you do."
"What don't I know about them? They've been in my life as long as you have."
"Ellie, stop," I say, suddenly I'm taken away from the mood to fight, I just want to scream into my pillow.
"What?" She asks "You're going to say some shit like 'they aren't loving'  or 'you wouldn't get it' Please, enlighten me, what wouldn't I get?" She moves closer just an inch or so "Wow, your life sounds so hard, you have two parents who love each other and a huge fucking house, oh shit," Sarcasm drips from her tone "Maybe it's that trust fund that's taking a toll on you."
"Please, stop."
"You could commit every crime known to man and you would still be their pride and joy, there is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you-
"Here we go with your 'life is so fucking hard and I'm edgy and indie and I have a sad backstory that I'll bring up every second sentence even though I was seven when it happened' " I mock her.
She bites the inside of her cheek and I can tell that I've struck a nerve "You know when my lease-
"Don't even worry about it," I move out from the kitchen and begin towards my room, Ellie's eyes are trailing me "The minute my lease is up, I'm packing my shit and moving into student housing so I won't have to look at your fucking face while I'm eating!" I slam my bedroom door behind me.
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I left that night, I couldn't bear the sound of her guitar strums, so repetitive it made me want to slam my head through the drywall.
You better believe that I cried my entire way home while blasting Julien Baker. My mother was pleasantly surprised to see me at her doorstep a day early, I knew Ellie would be coming down sometime tomorrow to spend the Holidays with her family, I didn't know when, I just knew that I didn't want to see her.
I never even told my parents that Ellie was my roommate and they hadn't heard it from Joel as they drifted when Ellie and I were fifteen.
My bedroom was exactly how I left, I cuddled into my twin bed that night sinking into the absolute silence of the the snowfall, with my dog Dusty curled at my side. I always loved the snow, the way it acted as soundproofing for the earth, when I was little I would just sit in the backyard so I could hear the birds sing in their purest and truest form.
Christmas Eve was dull to begin with, to say the least; my mom made Christmas tree-shaped waffles as she did every year, I was then dragged to an excruciatingly long church sermon. When we returned home I was sent to shovel the driveway, turns out visiting home from college doesn't excuse you from chores. I knew Ellie had arrived when I saw her grey sedan in Joel's driveway as well as Tommy's Range Rover. Bundled up in mittens and a hand-knitted scarf that Naomi gave to me I felt really tough giving the middle finger to Ellie wherever she was in Joel's house.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Elijah was cackling in the doorway. Dusty I happily bounding through the snow, paying to mind to my brother.
I immediately dropped my arm, trying to play nonchalantly "Uh, shoveling the driveway?"
His laughter only grew "You look so stupid," He huffed between cackles "You're standing in a foot of snow in the driveway giving Mr. Miller's house the middle finger in your cute little mitts."
"Say that louder, no one could hear you," I say, sarcastically.
"Hear ye, hear ye-
My eyes go wide and I drop the shovel to form a snowball and deck it at my brother "Shut up!"
"Ow!" He flinches, and his track and field hoodie from high school is now covered in powdered sleet. "Whatever," He yanks his hoodie off to shake the snow off of it "Just finish the driveway so we can watch a movie or something, I haven't seen you in months, Naomi and Aaron haven't shut up about you all holiday break."
I give him a mitted thumbs up before I try to speed run the shovelling, albeit slipping on black ice more than a few times. When I came back inside, I needed to change, my parka was dripping with snow that had melted into water.
I bundle up into sweatpants and an old soccer t-shirt. Being in my old room digs up memories pinned on my wall with bright thumbtacks year after year of photos of my soccer team, in every single one Ellie and I have our arms slung over each other. We're smiling wide and not focusing on the camera but on one another. I tear the picture away from the thumbtacks and throw them into a random shoe box that sits at the bottom of my closet. After that, I take down every artifact I have of Ellie, the drawings she made me, drafts of songs we wrote together, and t-shirts she left in my drawers, I throw it all into a Rubbermaid storage bin.
Though I leave the little wood carvings that Joel made for me alone.
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My family's famous Christmas Eve dinner rolled around and I couldn't believe how excited I was, I'm not the best cook and despite me and my mother going through spats every other day, she was one hell of a good chef and I had spent months craving her honey roasted carrots and creamy mashed potatoes.
Please don't judge me when I say this, but we are the family that dresses up for dinners at home. Nothing black tie, just something a little dapper, one time I wore jeans to our family dinner and I was grounded for a week.
I finished zipping up my white sundress and I let my little sister tie a matching bow into my hair, when she saw what I was wearing she changed into her white dress which was ankle length while mine fell right above my knees.
"Oh, my sweet girls are matching again," My mom fawns over us "Let me get a picture of this cute little moment," I smile for the picture, and Naomi does the same, hooking an arm around my midriff. "Adorable," Mom looks at the picture before tucking her phone into her pocket "Now girls, please set the table."
Even though I hadn't been at home for months, setting the table was like muscle memory to me, Naomi put the placemats down, and then I did the dinner plate and salad plate, Naomi would place the napkins and cutlery then I would set glasses and pour everyone water from the pitcher. By the time we finished setting the table everyone aside from my mother and Elijah were at the table, early awaiting what was sure to be a filling dinner.
Slowly but surely my mom brought the dishes with Elijah, placing them all through the center of the dining table. After everything was placed my father, who sits at the head of the table cleared his throat, that was his signal for everyone to join hands. "Dear God, We gather today with grateful hearts to thank you for this food before us. We appreciate the effort and resources that have provided us with this nourishment. May this meal sustain our bodies and remind us of the many blessings in our lives. We are thankful for the love of family and friends who surround us and for the abundance we enjoy. Bless this food, our time together, and those who prepared it. May it strengthen us physically and spiritually. This is your body, this is your love. We thank you for feeding us with your gracious hands. In Jesus' name, we give thanks and pray. Amen."
"Amen," My family repeats before we all ravishingly fill our plates with chicken, maple-roasted mushrooms, buttered green beans, bread rolls, and mashed potatoes. I was eating so fast, I was shocked that I didn't spill anything on myself.
"So, have you met any cute boys at college?" My mother asks me, she is the only one eating politely "I'm sure you could get a real smart guy with those looks of yours."
My father nods "Just make sure he's Christian."
"Or catholic," My mother adds.
I laugh awkwardly in response, I take a sip of my water, the condensation making it slippery in my hands. Elijah gives me an odd look that goes unnoticed by my parents.
"I think we should drop off some bread or cookies or something to the Miller's, just something to say hi while Tommy and Maria are still there." My mom tells us, she isn't speaking to anyone in particular.
"Is Ellie there right now?" Aaron asks.
Elijah shrugs "Probably, her car is in the driveway."
Now Naomi is looking at me "We should invite her over for New Year's or something if she's staying for the rest of break."
My dad shakes his head "I don't know if that's a good idea," All eyes fall on him "It's just- I think she's a bit of a bad influence." He takes a swig of his wine and attempts to suppress a burp but fails. I press my lips into a thin line and look down at my plate to hold in my laughter, Elijah does the same beside me.
"I don't remember Ellie being a bad influence," Aaaron furrows his eyebrows, racking his brain to think of a time that she had done their family wrong.
"It's just that there were rumours of her having-" My father searches for the words "Unnatural tendencies I suppose, and I tried to talk to Joel about it but he got defensive and said that she didn't need fixing, that's how I lost my best fishing buddy."
My mom looks at the discomfort on all of her children's faces "I mean, we all need a bit of fixing."
Dad is quick to catch on "Oh, yeah, of course, I mean it's not just Ellie," He fumbles over his words "And it's not her fault that she's that way, I think It's because she lost her mother when she was young so she got confused about the parental roles, Joel never remarried and he didn't date around much so Ellie didn't have a proper mother figure, it's not her fault she's a dyke and there's still time to fix it if she wants to choose the right path."
Stillness falls over the table, I had never heard silence quite this loud. Even my mother is at a loss for words. All of my siblings are darting our eyes at one another, we don't utter a single word but we understand each other clearly 'Dad actually said it'.
He noticed this and tried to backtrack on his words "I'm not a bad guy, I mean we've all read the bible cover to cover, we know it's a sin. I'll wrap this up, you all know that we love you no matter what and all I'm saying is I'm glad we could distance ourselves away from it."
"Hey Dad, did you watch the Canucks game last week?" Elijah swoops in to change the topic. It's too late, a wave of sickness has already overtaken me.
While my family discusses nothing in particular, trying to ignore what Dad said, I am sick to my stomach, I push my plate away and prop my elbow the the table for my hand to support my head. I am nearly shaking. My dull eyes peer across the table and meet my father's drowsy gaze.
"Honey, are you feeling alright?" My mom pauses whatever conversation she is enwrapped in.
I don't respond, I don't know how.
My family's eyes find a resting place on my figure. Mom pushes herself away from her chair and walks over to me, she places one hand between my shoulder blades, the other takes my cold hand and she slowly rubs a circle on my back to comfort me. "Sweetness, whatever is repressed inside, say it, let it out, we're all family."
Naomi nods in agreement, her wide eyes full of concern. "I don't know how to say it," I tell them.
"Air it out," My dad says, finishing off his glass of wine and pouring himself another "Today is the perfect day, tomorrow is the birth of Jesus, a fresh start."
My heart is racing faster than it ever has before, faster than when I broke my wrist in Ellie's backyard or when I had been on a rollercoaster for the first time. "I like girls," I say, my voice is quiet, and my three words take my family with silence. My mother freezes and takes a step back, her comforting hands leaving me.
"You're joking," My dad scoffs "Tell me this is a joke and you're normal."
"I can't," My voice cracks and I can already tell that the tears are oncoming. I think briefly back to Ellie's words 'There is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you' if only she could see what was about to happen.
"All of those sleepovers with Ellie?" He is disgusted, his face contorting with horror "Were you dating her?"
"no-
"How can I believe anything you say, you lied to us for nineteen years when you knew you were sick."
"Dad, I'm not sick-
"How many sinful acts have you done under this roof?"
"None, I swear," I shake my head, it took less than a minute for me to be filled with regret at my words. I shouldn't have even come home for the holidays, actually, I never should've found Dina's listing and jumped at the deal.
"Get out," Any light tone in my dad's voice is gone, replaced by pure resentment.
"What?"
"You heard me, get out."
"Dad, it's Christmas Eve-
"Get out!" His voice rumbles through the dining room like thunder "I thought we fixed this phase when we sent you to boarding school."
"Please, dad-
"Get up and get out or I'm going to make you,"
"Fine- make me," Tears prick in my eyes but I cross my arms trying to muster up that false coolness Ellie is so good at feigning.
My dad slams his glass down so hard that it shakes the table, and the partially empty wine bottle my parents had been nursing all night is knocked over by the abruption, tipping over the deep red liquor to travel down the tablecloth and drip onto what was once my pure white dress. "Get up!" He grabs a fistful of my hair and I scream from the shock of pain. He yanks me off my chair and my face slams against the hardwood when his arm slumps, impact heavy from the sudden drop, it doesn't take long for my nose to start bleeding. He drags me to the door pushing it open; my siblings don't do anything they're petrified in horror and my mother begins to cry, covering her eyes from the scene before her.
My dad doesn't stop at the door, I thrash on the ground and he pulls me over both of my hands trying to pry his away from the roots of my hair, he drags me into the snow, finally releasing me. I shake as my hand gently finds the way to my burning scalp where I fully believe he has pulled out clumps of my hair with his harsh and unforgiving grasp.
From the doorway the rest of my family watches, Naomi has a hand covering her mouth her doe eyes brimming with tears of her own. My father disappeared into the house, it didn't take long to see what he was doing he slammed the window to make the bedroom open and began to throw all of my belongings out of the window. My pictures, my old soccer uniform, armfuls of clothes from my old beaten dresser, candles, books, paints, and shredded posters were torn straight off my wall.
"Dad, stop, I'm sorry, I'll get better!" I am on my knees, hands clasped together pleading with him. My skin is burning from the contact with the snow, I know that it must be a horrific sight to behold. White sundress, stained with wine, tangled hair, red-tinged skin, puffy eyes and incoherent sobs.
The snow makes everything so quiet the only sound travelling through the night are my sobs. I can no longer see my father in my bedroom, he is coming back down and somehow that is worse, he pushes past my family and throws the presents I was supposed to receive on Christmas morning beside me, I flinch at the movement.
"I'm sorry!" I plead like I'm bargaining with the Grimm Reaper for my life "Give me a job and I'll do it, just tell me what to do to get better!" The screaming carries through the night, alerting the neighbours in what was supposed to be a calm and quiet neighbourhood. Across the street, Joel turns on his porch light, squinting his eyes at the scene on the opposing lawn and trying to make sense of it. "I want to get better!" I shake with every sob. I could hear my dogs barking from the loud noises.
My dad shakes his head "You're too far gone, I didn't raise a fucking dyke," He is almost crying himself, he doesn't mourn for the daughter that he has but the daughter that could've been. The daughter who donned white every Sunday for church and settled down with a nice family man, a daughter who was holy but in this moment I am the purest form of holiness, born again from the violence of my father.
"Dad, I was created in God's image, why would he create his child to be this way if it was so wrong?"
"You're a fucking mistake is what you are," He seethes "Get off my property or I'm calling the cops."
"You still have my bags!" I scream and I watch him retreat to get them "Are you going to do anything at all?" I search my family for any sign of life but they all avert their eyes from mine. My father comes back out, and he throws my purse and suitcase on the lawn, this time both of them hit me, talking about kicking someone when they're down.
My dad begins to usher the family inside "I never want to see you again, get your ass up and start working, I'm not paying for you to fuck around with women instead of getting an education."
"That's it?" I cry "You won't come to my wedding or meet my kids? What about my funeral?"
"Not as long as you're with a woman." With that, he slams the door behind him and locks it. I let out another guttural sob, I've already cried so much that it's beginning to hurt within my stomach. I take a deep and shaky breath in, wiping the tears away from my eyes with my freezing hands, I'm sure to catch hypothermia if I don't warm up. I look up to see my neighbours all around either watching from their window or in the Miller family's case, the front porch. I'm sure that someone has already called the police.
"Let me in, I'm sorry!" I scramble off the ground and begin to bang on the door. Shaking the handle "Let me in!" This goes on for longer than I would've liked, I hammer on the door and scream as loud as I can but they all ignore me. Eventually, I stand by the window and slam my hands on it "Let me in or give me my fucking dog, you can't take care of him!"
I knew I was fucked when I heard sirens. It only made sense for the neighbours to call the cops at this disturbance.
I'm going to do you all a favour and tell you some useful information; when the police arrive and you don't wanna seem guilty, don't try to drive away from the scene because you might just end up getting handcuffed and shoved into the back of a police car for your childhood bestfriends family to watch from their front row seats.
"Prison life isn't for me," I wallow as I press myself against the bars of the holding cell. There are two other women in the cell with me and they both snigger. One of their names is Lucia, and she has bronze skin and brown hair so dark that it almost looks black with gold hoop earrings the size of my head, I don't know the other woman's name but she looks significantly older and has stringy blonde hair, the wrinkles of her face drooping.
"Honey, this isn't prison, you'll live another hour," Lucia sits on the uncomfortable bench, her arms crossed, she's kind of hot to be blunt.
"You reek of liquor though," Blondie cackles and I catch a glimpse of her rotting yellow teeth, what's the opposite of pearly whites? Golden nuggets? Something like that.
"Because I got wine spilled on me," I retort. I had been crying before they even placed me in the cell, wailing so loud that I was annoying the officers. I was so upset and starved for affection that I hugged the officer who detained me, babbling incoherently about how my life was ruined, I don’t even blame them for arresting me, I looked like a crackhead trying to break into a nice suburban home. “I'm not drunk."
"Could've fooled me," Lucia smirks, she's wearing a black tank top and skinny jeans. I wasn't a fan of skinny jeans but she was converting me.
I fell asleep hugging myself on one of the uncomfortable metal benches with chipped blue paint, when I woke up, it was Christmas, even though it didn't feel like it. I saw the snowfall outside of the windows on the other side of the cells. Lucia had told me just before she was released that they had the right to hold you longer over holidays, I wanted to weep all over again.
Blondie got removed from the cell too and I was all alone. The only thing that kept me sane was pretending I was Katniss or Lucy Gray, if they had survived the Hunger Games, I could survive this. I genuinely thought my life was over and I was getting sent to prison for hammering on my dad's door and screaming.
With each hour that ticked by, my profound sense of loneliness only grew. The sounds of distant laughter flitted through the hall and I am reminded of the world that lies beyond the metal bars. I wonder what my family is doing at this moment, every voice that I hear acts as a reminder of the love I had jeopardized. I lost Ellie, I lost Conner, and now I had lost my family.
I think about praying to god for a moment though I discard the thought. If he was real why did he let that happen to me? Maybe forgiveness and redemption were not necessary.
"Crybaby, call someone to pick you up," Officer Reid who initially arrested me and interrogated me began to unlock the cell, "Charges are dismissed." He had been calling me Crybaby since I was stuffed in the back of the police car and wailing uncontrollably.
"Like for real?"
He was in fact, for real. I was brought to a landline phone and my hands acted faster than my head, dialling the number of someone I would trust with my life, I just prayed that the number hadn't changed.
After making my call I was told to go to a weird booth thing to collect my effects, where an old and very judgmental woman dumped my few belongings out of an envelope. I wish I knew the technical names for this stuff but it's not like I've been arrested before this one off occasion. She looked at each of the items, stating what it was while she took inventory of it. "Smartphone, lipgloss, a single gold earring, and a cross necklace," She marks something down and then turns the paper around and holds out a blue pen for me to take "Sign here."
My phone had died already, I was missing an earring, and the cross had failed me, all I had left to rely on was my cover girl lipgloss. I sat in that stark grey room for what seemed like hours, everyone seemed miserable as I am, at least I wasn't the only person having a not-so-merry Christmas.
Holy shit, I was still disgusting. I was sticky and freezing, still in the wine-ruined white dress, there was still dried blood on my face despite my pestering Lucia to help me get it off. My hair is tangled, the bow that my sister had tied in lost somewhere in the snow. I haven't looked in a mirror but I know I look rough from the side glances that everyone is casting me. I can't imagine the dark bags beneath my red, puffy eyes to be any sort of appealing.
The sterile waiting room is beginning to get on my nerves, I flinch at every movement and hold onto hope that every person walking through the door is the person I'm waiting on. I try my best to avert my eyes from the clock so time doesn't drag on any longer than it already is.
By the time Joel gets here, the sun is beginning to set, his eyes frantically search the room until they land on me, I'm already standing up and walking toward him. "Kiddo, are you okay?"
My lip quivers and it feels like every awful thing I've ever felt is going to seep through my teeth. My head falls onto his chest but this time I don't cry, I think I've run out of tears "I have nothing ahead of me."
Joel doesn't ask questions, he just hugs me in return, resting his chin on the top of my head, there is the comfort I had been so desperately searching for.
He signs release papers and he guides me to his red Ford Explorer. When I called him I asked him to bring me shoes as I was barefoot when I was detained, being the number one dad that he was, he brought a reusable grocery store tote bag, containing a hoodie, sneakers, fuzzy socks, sweatpants and a bag of my favourite chips. I slip the sweats on underneath my dress while the hoodie goes overtop, I awkwardly unzip it and shimmy it off, stuffing it into the tote bag.
The drive back to his house begins and he turns on the radio, trying to make lighthearted chatter "Thanks for coming to get me," I say, my voice is quiet and I pull my knees to my chest like as I tend to do when I get nervous "You can just drop me off at my car and I'll be out of your way."
"Sorry, kiddo," He says, eyes focused on the road "You're staying with me tonight, I don't want you driving these roads in the dark and it'll be good for you to have a hot shower and a warm meal, get some sleep somewhere that's not a holding cell."
"It's just that-
"If you still want to leave in the morning that's up to you but you shouldn't end your Christmas alone," Each word seems so genuine "And you know I would gladly have you stay with me three hundred and sixty-five days a year."
I look at him, a soft melancholic smile on my face, "Thank you," I say.
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
A sigh falls from my lips "What happened to all of my stuff that was left on the lawn?"
"Tommy and Ellie brought it all inside."
Ellie brought it back inside? Did she actually give a shit or was this something her dad ordered her to do? "Did my dad say anything to you?"
Joel shakes his head "Maria went barging on his door, those two were in a screaming match for a good two minutes before he locked the door on her. Hasn't been outside since, everyone in the neighbourhood has been coming by to ask what happened."
"Even Sharron?" I ask Joel, wrinkling my nose in distaste.
"Even Sharron," He solidifies. Sharron was the grouchy crone of the street, shutting down every party, cussing out teenagers from her porch, and yelling at barking dogs "She said she was worried about you." The windshield wipers painted rhythmic patterns across the glass, clearing a path through the soft snow that continued to fall.
"She's not worried about me, she's worried I'm on drugs and I'll break into her musty home to steal all of her hummels."
Joel huffs a laugh "I can't believe that I used to let her babysit you and Ellie."
"Me neither, you should be paying for my therapy." I tease.
He chuckles at my words, "So you're majoring in wildlife biology?"
"You remembered what I wanted to major in?"
"Of course I did."
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"Hey, Mookie!" Tommy wraps his arms around me the moment I set foot in the door. He's called me Mookie since I was a little girl, it started when I couldn't pronounce monkey and thus Mookie was born. "Let me get a good look at you," He pushes me back just the slightest hands clasped on my shoulders "Look at that bruise you've got on your cheek, looking awful tough, like those greasers you used to read about."
"Look at that, Mookie grew up," Maria greets me with a warm smile, pushing Tommy away to hug me "Good to see you made it through prison alive," She jests.
Joel's house is exactly how it was when I left.
The air carried the familiar scent of firewood and lavender incense. In the living room, an inviting fireplace stood as the heart of the home. Its gentle crackle and the dancing flames provided a soothing backdrop to the overstuffed couches adorned with cozy blankets and throw pillows, worn from years of shared family movie nights. A well-loved rug covered the wooden floor, its pattern a mosaic of memories and spills easily forgiven and of course, a coffee table hand-crafted by Joel and intricately carved.
The shelves lining the walls were a treasure trove of family history. Photographs in mismatched frames captured smiling faces frozen in time, chronicling the evolution of Ellie through the years. A collection of well-read books, their spines creased and pages worn, stood proudly, offering a glimpse into the literary adventures that had unfolded within those walls.
The kitchen, the heart of many childhood homes, held the lingering aroma of Christmas dinner. The countertops, scarred from countless meals prepared and shared, were a testament to the love that had gone into creating family dinners. A worn wooden table in the center of the room bore witness to the countless conversations, celebrations, and moments of solace shared over shared meals.
"You know what, when I was around your age, I spent my fair share of time in the cooler, good to see you're taking after me," Tommy winks and gives me a hard pat on the back. Neither of them acknowledges the reason behind last night's events and somehow it feels worse than talking about it.
"We've just finished up making dinner, I'm sure you're hungry," Maria smiles softly, taking my hand into her calloused one.
"Yeah, I'm starving," I smile in return and trail behind the blonde woman to the dining table.
All of the plates are laid out with portions of food on each one, Ellie is sitting alone, spooning mashed potato into her mouth while she texts someone, she glances up at me and offers nothing more than a tight-lipped smile and awkward wave before going back to her phone. Tommy comes by with a tray of garlic butter rolls and uses tongs to add more onto my plate "Don't think I've forgotten how much you love these."
I grin up at him, I'm sitting in the same chair I sat in all those years ago when I Ellie and I would settle down after spending all day in the sun, Joel would ask us what we wanted for dinner and almost every time we would shout hotdogs.
"Good to have you back," Joel nods to me "House always felt a little empty without you."
I always felt a little empty without this house "Good to be back," I smear some mashed potato onto Tommy's famous garlic butter bread rolls.
I feel almost sick with nostalgia as I look around the dining room, Joel still had Ellie's crafts from elementary school hung up and if you look closely, you find little clues that I've left behind; proof that I once existed as a girl beneath this roof. There's a dent in the wall from the time I stood on my chair to catch a spider and accidentally fell over, my head hitting right into the wall, Ellie was laughing too hard to help me.
"So what school do you go to?" Maria asks me, washing down her pot roast with some ice water.
"Northridge actually," At my words, Ellie's head perks up, she's looking dead at me with a look of fear in her eyes.
"Oh, Ellie goes there!" Tommy smiles "She never mentioned that you do too."
Ellie is silently pleading with me, I know she doesn't want me to tell her family that she's been borderline tormenting me as my roommate and sending me to bed with tears in my eyes. I didn't plan on telling them anyway "That's funny, I guess we just keep missing each other."
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Joel set up an air mattress in Ellie's room, that's when it became clear to me that he had no idea just how bad the fallout was between us. I hate to say that I missed her room and all of the memories we shared in it.
Ellie's bedroom resembled something of a teen guy who'd never gotten laid before. She had a navy comforter, her shelves were lined with comics and novels, I know for a fact that she'd read every single one of them. Her desk was always a mess, covered in pages of poetry and sketches that she had torn out from her journal. Almost every inch of her walls is covered in posters of bands, movies and her nerdy video games.
I was fresh out of the shower, finally in my clean clothes that I had dug out of my suitcase. I got to charge my phone too, there was an overwhelming number of messages.
D-Manz: HAPPY CHRISTMAS BITCH!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU AND CAN'T WAIT TO PARTY WHEN WE GET BACK
Jesse: Merry Christmas, hope your day isn’t shit! 😁😁😁
Riley: Merry Christmas! Hope you're having fun at your new school!
Abs: Merry Christmas and stay safe!
Kayla: Missing you girl ☹️ so excited for that staff party!
Kit-Cat: Merry Christmas, don't have too much fun without me
Yara: Merry Christmas ❤️ this probably isn't the time but I was hoping you could send over your notes from the last conservation lecture, just wanna text you before I forget!
566-460-4374: I got your number from Kyle, this is Roderick, I saw you last night and wanted to check up on you, hope everything is okay and merry Christmas.
Lindsey: Hey, haven't talked to you in a while but my parents said some stuff went down, just wanna make sure you're okay.
Ellie: Lmk if you need a ride back to our place
Ellie: Don't know if you can even see this but I got all of your stuff off the lawn, I promise it's safe 👍
Naomi: I'm so sorry
Naomi: I didn't think that would happen
Naomi: I didn't know what to do
Naomi: I love you
Aaron: U good?
Naomi: Please don't hate me, I'm sorry I didn't do anything
Elijah: Sorry but I wish you didn't tell Dad that
Naomi: I'll try to talk to Dad
Elijah: Hope you're safe
Elijah: Call me when you can
Still, there wasn't any word from either of my parents. I replied returning well wishes and assuring everyone that I was okay, I turned my phone onto Do Not Disturb and began to watch the Hunger Games on my phone. The room would've been pitch black if it wasn't for the blue light from my screen and the gentle beams of moonlight gliding through the window.
Ellie walks into the room after she finishes with her shower, she's in sweatpants and an old hoodie that she got from a rodeo, I had the same one, and we bought them together. I glance up at her before looking back at my movie and pulling the quilt further up my body. "You still like the Hunger Games?"
"Yeah," I say, being as brief as possible.
"You should take my bed and I'll sleep on the air mattress," Ellie says while she ties her hair into a low ponytail.
"I'm fine here, thanks."
"Seriously," Ellie is standing awkwardly at the foot of her bed, waiting for me to do something.
I shut my phone off and turned on my other side to face away from her "Just go to bed."
Ellie runs her hands down her face in frustration, she's starting to feel like an asshole "Please take the bed, it's the least I can do." I ignore her so she speaks again "I am begging you," She tells me bluntly "I feel like a dick and it would make me feel better if you just took the bed."
"You are a dick," I answer, she should've seen this response coming from a mile away.
"Please take the bed."
I sit up to look at her, frustration now boiling up inside of me "You're going to be nice now because you feel bad for me?"
"That's not why-
"It is actually," I tell her "This will last for a few days and then we'll go home and you'll be a cunt all over again, fucking keeping a list of everything I lay a finger on so you can say it's my fault if it breaks." She bites the inside of her cheek, that's her tell. Every time she does that I can tell that I've gotten under her skin. "You'll still act like you don't know me and I'm just some weird girl who thinks the world of you, I know what you say to those girls you have over, the walls aren't that thick." My insides ache from all of the screaming and crying of the past couple of days "And I know that I hurt you and I've told you a million times over that I'm sorry, you don't get to start having empathy for me now."
Ellie's silent again, she can't seem to find the words, so instead she slips under the covers of her bed, giving up. Minutes pass us, we've slept in this room together a thousand times but this time it's different, we don't share her queen bed and stay up all night watching the walking dead and talking shit about people at our school, we lay in the uncomfortable silence. We're grown but in this moment I still feel like a child searching for her mother's hand to guide her, I feel like my teeth still need to fall out so brighter, stronger ones can take their place, that the baby fat has yet to shed from my bones.
"I didn't know that you liked girls," Ellie said, breaking the silence "And I shouldn't have assumed that stuff about your parents." I don't respond to her, though she knows that I heard her. "I lied that night when you moved in."
"What?"
"I got all bitchy and said that you don't even cross my mind, I was lying," She's confessing to me as if I'm a priest "There wasn't a day that went by where I didn't think about you."
I'm not doing well.
I want nothing more than to crawl into bed next to Ellie and just hug her until I fall asleep but the resentment I've garnered for her these past months refrains me.
"I don't know if you ever knew this, but back in high school I had a bit of a crush on you," She says and my break hitches in my throat "Hey, you there?"
'I don't know if you ever knew this but I turned myself inside out trying not to be in love with you.' I don't say that, instead, I say "Goodnight, Ellie, Merry Christmas."
"Goodnight," She mutters, and like me, she turns her body to face away from me.
I don't feel mature in the slightest, I'm kept awake, haunted by shame and embarrassment. Ellie had seen me only one night prior, on my knees begging for love. We may be cold and calculated to one another now but I remember when she was a little girl who overwatered her plants because she didn't know how to stop giving.
TAG LIST I just tagged whoever wanted a part two: @elliesaesp @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @elliesaturnsoftdrink @mikellie @melanie-watermelon @skylerwhitwyo
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igotanidea · 7 months
Text
2 a.m. visit: Jason Todd x reader
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link to the photo in the description, my mouth is foaming....
Summary: Y/N wakes up in the middle of the night to some disturbingly familiar sounds coming from her neighbour apartment.
Warnings: a bit of smut, but nothing too graphic (still MDNI), swearing, and possibly messed up ending.
***
It was 2 a.m. and she was fairly annoyed, knocking on her neighbour’s door.
God damn Jason Todd and his stupidly stupid habits of waking people in the middle of the night!
God damn Jason Todd who was apparently too busy making noises to open up!
“Todd!” she cried out, her rapping becoming more exasperated by a second. “TODD!” she couldn’t care less about the rest of the neighbours, who (with no hard feelings) were probably too old or too deaf to hear her calling. “Open up or I swear I’ll kick those doors”.
Obviously there was something around zero chances of her fulfilling that threat but what else was she supposed to do.
“TODD!!”
“What the hell?!” the door finally opened and the culprit himself stood up in front of her, wearing nothing but his boxers, his upper body exposed, his hair tousled in a perfect mess, his eyes a bit blurry. Clearly, it took him a second to realise that it was Y/N standing at his doorframe, but once he did, his eyes grew wide, he blushed a little and quickly grabbed one of his shirt hanging by the door and put it on it. “Y/N... I…. um….” He stuttered.
“Oh, stop with the fake modesty, Jason. I’ve patched you up too many times to care about you being covered or not.” She almost rolled her eyes at his actions.
“What…. I mean.. um... did something happened?” he mumbled looking at the floor. If only she knew what he was doing merely seconds ago she would probably understand why he was trying to cover himself up so desperately. Thank god, she was clueless, standing within arm’s reach of him, so cute and innocent in that pyjamas and without makeup.
“could you please moan quieter?” she asked, being as straight-forward and blunt as always.
“Wh-what -?”  he could swear he had a mini heart attack the second those words left her lips. Oh, god…. “You-- ?”
“Thin walls.” She muttered.
“I…”
“Hey, it’s okay Jay. Don’t be embarrassed. We all have needs, I get that. But it’s not like I want to be up all night with that soundtrack in the background. However…” she trailed biting on her bottom lip to hide the amused smile showing on her face.
“What…?” Jason was both pale as a wall and red as a tomato.
“It’s quite a progress that I only hear one voice.”
His eyes grew wide once again, looking like a mill wheels. Oh shit, shit, shit….
“Y/N….”
“Sh. Told you, it’s okay. Apparently you got a way for girls to agree with you all the time. Yeah, I heard all those times too.” She winked at him. “But you’re alone tonight, aren’t you? Hope I didn’t ruin a perfectly good orgasm for another woman?”
“Y/N!!”
“What?”
“Stop it!” Shit, shit, shit.
“Why? Those are completely normal things, Jason. We are both adults and everyone else here is deep asleep, so what’s the problem?”
“YOU are my problem!” he cried out, pulling the shirt closer to his body, trying to hide something that was becoming terrifyingly visible. Fuck, she had no idea …
“Me?” Y/N frowned “Why me? Don’t be silly we are friends, I won’t give away which girl caught your attention. Besides, I didn’t hear you groaning any names so…” her casual shrugging almost made him yell in frustration. How could she possibly be so cool about everything, unfazed by the strangeness of the situation, while he was almost crawling out of his skin due to the mixed feelings?
“Fuck that!” he finally hissed and much to Y/N’s surprise grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside the apartment in the accompaniment of a single surprised cry.
“Hey! What’s with the passive aggression? I didn’t lock my flat!” poor girl tried to bypass him, but apparently Jason was dead set on making it impossible for her, standing in her way, his muscular frame blocking the exit.
“shut up!” he hissed, clenching his fists and it took her by surprise. Yes, she saw him pissed off before. Yes, she knew he was short-tempered and had anger management issues, but this? This was something different. Like he was walking on the edge, barely controlling himself but still fighting against blowing up in her face. Key word being barely.
“Jason….?” She stuttered taking a step back, bumping into table and almost throwing down the lamp. “Calm down… please…”
“Calm down?! The fuck am I supposed to calm down when you come here saying things like that to me, acting all innocent and pretending that you don’t see what you do to me!” he shouted taking as many steps forward as she was taking back.
“What I do to you?” she repeated, being completely oblivious to everything that was happening inside and outside Jason.
“Don’t pretend to be stupid!”
“HEY!”
“You do this on purpose!”
“Do what?! I don’t….holy shit!”
Mhm. Yes. You guessed it. She finally saw what she had been doing to him. And it was both exciting and disgusting. Jason was her friend! Her neighbour for god’s sake! A man who had different girl in his bed almost every night. Or every other night. And now… now he was clearly ready to make her one of his booty.
“Oh, no. No. No!” she scoffed “No way in hell.”
“Y/N…” Jason hissed, the way his body was reacting on having her so close was becoming painful. He took another step forward but she stopped him with putting a single finger up.
“Don’t! You dare move an inch. Why on earth do you have a hard on while …” she didn’t finish the sentence, her face dropping. “Oh… fuck… please tell me you didn’t …”
“Y/N….” he tried again, this time way more desperately.
“Oh my god… you did.” She gasped, her mind going into overdrive. “You did, didn’t you?”
“Please, just listen to me…” Jason Todd was whimpering like a dog, feeling like a total looser, embarrassed, humiliated, ready to crawl back to his grave and die because of the look she was giving him at the moment. It was never supposed to happen. She was never supposed to know or – god forbid – experience. It was supposed to be a secret. Closely guarded. To put it lightly, Jason was cursing himself for opening that stupid door in the first place. He foolishly believed that one round with imaginations in his head would be enough, but clearly it  was not.
“Just say it! Come on, just admit it!”
“Fine! Fuck! Fine! I was thinking about you! Happy now?! I was thinking how it would be like to have you! To touch you, to kiss you, to hold you, to take you! Is that what you wanted to know?!”
“Damn Todd…”
“I can’t control it, even I wanted to! And the reason you didn’t hear any names through that fucking wall is…”
“No! No, don’t you dare saying it!” she rushed at him, putting her hand on his mouth, shutting him up.
The sudden contact, given the context of situation, was probably a mistake, since her touch sent shivers through Jason’s body and his eyes flashed dangerously with desire. Y/N was playing with fire now. The fire she was capable of starting so easily but unable to put out. And she knew it. And, being the perfect contrast to Jason’s burning, she froze at the spot.
They were standing in front of each other, in a dark apartment, Jason in boxers and shirt hanging loose from his body, doing nothing to hide those tons of muscles and Y/N in her pyjama, which was doing pretty much as little.
Slowly, mindful of every single muscle twitch she put her hand down, her eyes never leaving his. It was almost as if she was hypnotised. Or shocked. Or both.  Her mind was screaming at her that Jason was her friend. Her friend. And it was unwise to ruin years of knowing each other just because she had the sudden urge of feeling the weight of his body on hers. Because for some unknowing reason, despite the fact that she saw those muscles and those scars so many times before, helping him with his injures, he never found him hotter than at that moment.  Because the picture and imagination of his hands on her, his mouth on hers, kissing, biting, licking, tasting and exploring every inch of her skin, was doing so many things to her, she had to bite her bottom lip to stop the moan, arising inside her. Y/N heard a lot of girls through that wall and she knew Jason was more than skilled in the art of love making and pleasuring a woman. And despite all her morals and inhibitions the craving of him giving her a little demonstration was becoming unbearable.
That was not the plan.
That was definitely not the plan.
But she was just a woman, who hasn’t been touched in a while and her neighbour/ best friend, was apparently (and visibly) more than ready to help fight that touch starvation.
Shit.
Her gaze landed on those perfectly sculpted abs, chiselled chest, strong arms… Her mind started wondering of what it would be like to be gripped by them so tight it would leave hand shaped bruises, what it would feel like to be left breathless due to the pressure of his body pushing her into the mattress, to lose her voice while calling his name, feeling him in the most intimate way possible.
Shit.
She tried to not look at his face, to avoid those green eyes filled with lust. For her, for her body, for her moans, the taste of her lips, the feeling of her skin under his fingertips.
Oh, yes, she tried so hard.
To the best of her abilities and her  obviously unwavering values.
She even tried to move back to run away from her own needs, which, ironically, she called normal a few minutes ago, while standing at his doorframe.
Funny how the tables turned, cause now she was all hot and bothered, feeling like a freaking prey while Jason was the hunter. And given all his Red Hood skills, he was not going to let go before getting the bunny he’s been chasing.
“I want you.” He whispered with that hoarse, low voice, making her take a sharp breath, almost catching in her throat. “I want you…” he repeated, appearing right next to her in a split second, grabbing her by the waist, pulling her to him, one of those perfectly thick thighs pressing between her legs in a way that made her buck her hips forward, wetness soaked her pyjama pants, her core craving friction. “Babygirl…” Jason whispered in her ear, brushing lips over her earlobe, and cheek, his breath burning her skin as he moved to nibble and lick the soft spot on her neck with his obviously trained tongue. Y/N could only fantasise what it would do in some other place.
“Jason…” she moaned.
“Yes, princess….” This was not a question. He didn’t have to ask what she wanted cause he already knew, probably even better than she herself could express. “Say yes… come on, sunshine. Let me make you feel good. Let me show you the pleasure you never knew before.” He kept caressing her, hands finding a way under her pyjama shirt, travelling up, feeling her soft skin, moving up to her breasts, not covered by bra, almost touching them, but leaving her wanting and needing.
“how are you so cocky now…?” she gasped, her body squirming when he pressed her into a wall.  “you weren’t so self-assured a minute ago.”
“I must be doing something wrong if you can still think logically…” he smirked, reaching fingers up under her shirt, brushing over her boobs, causing another shudder. “Say yes…” he grabbed her tighter, showing all the man attitude. “Just say yes, baby…”
“Fuck… shit…” his thigh was pressing into her core invitingly and she wanted nothing more than  to brush against it, but he was effectively preventing her from doing so. Little bastard wanted to be in control and to break her.
“Not even close, baby…” he nuzzled his nose in her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo mixed with the smell of her skin. “I want you… you want me… you can make it easy with just one word. Come on…” he started tracing the letters of said word on her waist, scratching gently, adding to her arousal “Y-E…”
“YES! Ok, fuck, yes, yes! I – mhp!”
She didn’t get to finish the sentence when his lips finally crashed on hers, hands grabbing her waist lifting her up and holding tightly against him, her back pressing into a wall, her legs wrapping around him. Each of Jason’s caress and movement was an entire declaration of the feeling that he had kept hidden for months, trying to suppress his affection for Y/N with multiple one night stands.  
In a blink of an eye, his shirt was gone and Y/N was tracing over his skin, seemingly in the same way she’s been doing while cleaning him after patrols, but in fact, completely differently.
This whole situations was completely different, emotions and hormones running high and wild, out of any control, not that either of them wanted it.
No.
No, fuck the control. All they needed was the release, the sweet feeling of being with each other in that perfect, unfiltered, unadulterated way. No hesitation, no inhibitions just all the feels, even if they had no idea what they were doing, but also at the same time, moved with purpose, heading towards a specific goal.
Hands, lips, tongues, teeth, muscles.
Fingers tangling in hairs, hot, ragged breaths, mouth whispering love letters on skin, the urge to be even closer than physically possible.
Just them two in their bubble in dark room in a dark apartment.
Full desire.
Full pleasure.
The warmth of the other’s body, shivers of lust and excitement all over.
“Jason…” she whispered, letting go of him for a second to allow him to take her sleepwear off.
“Y/N… Y/N… oh, mine, mine…” Jason might have read hundredths of books in his life and had a vast vocabulary range but at his moment, he was only using body language, the only word on his mind was her name. HER name.
“Please…” she whispered, grabbing him tighter, running nails down his back. “Please…” she begged for the release, craving the feeling she’s been missing for such a long time, grinding on him, aching.  
“Oh, princess, I’ll give you everything you want. But I want you in my bed first.” He smirked, pressing his lips to hers again, tasting her, while carrying her to bedroom, kicking the doors shut the second they reached the destination. “you’re the queen, I’m not taking you against the wall, baby.” he threw her on the bed, immediately climbing on top of her, spreading her legs and diving into her core perfectly, without even trying.
It was like they were made for each other.
“More…oh, more…”
“Yes.. yes, more… everything you want, baby. Everything you need from me. Everything.” He whispered into her ear, giving justice to all her fantasies from before. “Sing for me, my angel.”
Heaven is not a place. Heaven is a person.
And Jason was hers as much as she was his.  
***
When she woke up next morning at first she couldn’t recognise the place she was in. But the sheets smelled like him and she smiled to herself, remembering the last night, what they did, how many times and in how many ways they explored their bodies, breaking the laws of biomechanics and flexibility in the process. Who would have thought that you can fit as many things in such little amount of time.
There was still this pleasurable tingling on her skin in the places where he kissed and touched and devoured her. Hopefully he felt the same given all the crazy things she did for him.
And speak of the devil, her night-time hero walked right through the door with a sleepy expression on his face and with the perfect bedhead, curls falling into his face.
“No breakfast?” she teased, noticing his empty hands “what happened to treating me like a queen?”
“Hm…” Jason muttered in response, blushing ever so slightly “are you asking for more of it? I’m more than ready for it, but figured you’d still like to walk…”
She laughed a little when he jumped on the bed next to her, resting head on arms, looking at her lovingly, melting her heart.
“Hey Jason….”
“Hey yourself, pretty one…”
“Look, I…” she sighed not sure what to do now and how to figure out her own feelings. Jason was clearly head over heels for her and slowly, the guilt and remorse that she had only used him in the moment of weakness and body talk, started creeping in.
“Sh. You don’t need to say a thing.”
“But…”
“Not a thing, Y/N.”  he said again, propping himself up and kissing her temple “I’m just glad you’re here with me. I don’t really need much more…”
Liar.
Of course he wanted more. He wanted her to love him back, to be his one and only, to have her exclusively, to be her boyfriend, with the tiniest amount of luck. But on the other hand he was also desperate and would settle for any scrap of her affection that was more than friend-like. Hoping that with the right amount of patience (which he lacked), stubbornness (which he had in excess) and caring he would get the same confession out of her in the future.
@lightwing-s
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lovelyjj · 1 year
Text
Hot Tub
jj maybank x reader
Requested: You can read the request here.
wc: 888
warnings: SMUT
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There was a feeling of guilt that settled at the pit of your stomach. You didn't mean for this to happen. It all went too far.
It all started when that blonde boy looked into your eyes and smiled. Damn him and his charm.
You and JJ had been sneaking around behind John Bs back for a while now. As much as you hate to admit it, you felt bad and guilty about it. Not guilty enough to stop however.
The château air was humid as you laid with your brothers best friend. JJ was tracing patterns on your thigh.
"JJ we should get up I have laundry to do."
"No wait stay please." JJ whined.
He shifted to being on top of you.
"I'll make it worth your while." JJ smirked.
He was ghosting over your lips when he leaned in and slotted your lips together. The kiss was delicate as you explored each other's mouths.
JJ moved down to your neck and started sucking.
"JJ Please." You stuttered.
"Come on baby let me mark you up."
JJ continued his sucking until there was a deep purple hickey left on your skin.
Pleased with himself, JJ went back to your lips dropping a languid kiss to your lips.
"Fuck I have to go to work." JJ exclaimed as he pulled out his phone and checked the time.
"Bye baby." JJ spoke as you got up from the bed to give him a hug.
After saying bye to your boyfriend you went out into the kitchen. Looking in the fridge you didn't see much food. You decided you were gonna go grocery shopping.
——
When you came back from the store John B was at the house back from whatever it was he was doing.
You walked by your brother when he suddenly stood up and inspected you.
"Woah there girly. What's that on your neck?"
Turing red from embarrassment, you tried to cover it. "Oh it's nothing don't worry about it."
John B who has seen in clearly already asked, "Who gave you that?"
"Um just some touron." You spoke.
"Right well cover up will you." John B stated.
"mhm whatever." You spoke as you brushed passed him.
———-
The next night you and JJ decided to go hot tubbing.
You entered the outside area of the château in your red bikini. There was lights wrapped around the trees and the hot tub was ready, waiting patiently for you to enter.
JJ descended the porch stairs holding a beer. 
"Hop in princess." JJ commanded.
You sighed as the warm water engulfed your legs and you slowly sunk in.
JJ was quick to follow, entering the water and cracking open his beer.
JJ was already flustered. Seeing you in that bikini had his swim shorts tightening around his crotch.
"Come here." JJ beckoned you.
You swam over to him smirking.
"I know that look." You spoke. He had hunger in his eyes.
"What look there's no look." JJ protested.
Once you were close enough JJ took ahold of your waist and gave you one of his signature smiles.
JJ went to cup your cheek and drew you in for a hungry kiss. He was eager. It got more heated as it progressed, your lips locking together and devouring each other.
You felt your heart pumping and JJ felt his blood rush through his veins.
He started trailing kisses down your neck and dropping at the base to suck harshly at your pulse point.
He sucked, bit and licked up your neck producing dark purple marks.
JJ then proceeded to move to your tits. He kissed on the spot where your boob hung out of the bikini top.
"I'm in heaven." JJ whispered into your skin.
You laughed and then let out a moan as he moved to your other breast and sucked a spot showing teeth he nibbled on the area. He then soothed it with his tongue.
"JJ." You panted, "John B is just inside."
He lifted his head up and mumbled, "Don't care."
He continued leave dark marks on your boobs.
He then pushed your bikini to the side and sucked on your nipple.
With his left hand he used it to squeeze the other boob his mouth wasn't on.
He then grabbed your bikini top and lifted it off you. Then went back to sucking your nipple on the other boob as he had more access.
You let out a moan and JJ was feral.
"I need you now." JJ rasped.
"Please." You whimpered.
JJ was quick to take off his swim trunks and pushed down your bottoms. You positioned yourself over his length and sat down on his cock.
JJ let out an animalistic groan as you moaned out in pleasure. You started to move your hips and bounce on him. JJ's hands were already guiding your movements.
"Don't stop!" JJ exclaimed.
"mmm I won't." You called.
JJ felt euphoric as he trusted up into you. The hot water doing its job in assisting his movements.
"JJ! I'm close." You whined.
He took a hand and started rubbing your clit in an attempt to make you cum first.
John B walked out from the château and was scarred.
"What the fuck!"
"You guys!" John B yellled as he covered his eyes.
"JJ i'm gonna kill you."
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bunny-yan · 2 months
Note
yandere hero will now be jealous of every woman if his darling turns out to be a lesbian? will he try to "convince" her to love him, or will he give up?
I imagine this playing out in your teenage years when he can’t pass your avoidance of his insistent following and affections off as you playing hard to get anymore. yan!hero x fem!lesbian!reader TW: homophobia, suggests noncon, minors DNI
“You’re not- You can’t be.”
You rose an eyebrow, wondering where he could be going with this.
“What do you mean, I can’t be.” you asked, crossing your arms. 
“You just can’t.”
His tone was sharp and you could tell he was getting irritated. Tasman had been this way since he’d learned why you were so insistent on avoiding his affections. 
He couldn’t accept it. 
The two of you grew up and he stuck to your side like glue. You spent every second of every day together, completing your chores, hanging out, relying on each other for simple company. It would only be natural for things to progress further, which is why to some degree you could understand his unwillingness to let this go. 
You remembered the dumbstruck face he wore when you finally came out with your confession, practically being forced out of you on one of the nights you’d finished your work in the bar. You were rushed, arms pinned to your sides as he tried to kiss you. 
You screamed in the heat of the moment, struggling to get away from your attacker, but his familiar voice attempting to placate you left you stupefied. You don’t know why he thought it’d be romantic to catch you by surprise by attacking you. 
“Come on,” he said, a hand wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. Your hands pressed against his chest, wondering how a teenage boy could be so strong as he refused to budge. “I’ve liked you for a really long time and I want us to be official.”
“Tasman, stop.” you said, pushing at the hand that was drifting a little too low, or gripping at your shirt when he attempted to slide his hand underneath it. 
“I’ve seen the way you look at me. I know you like me too.”
“No, I-”
“Just say you like me.” he whispered, leaning closer to kiss you and laughing when you turned your face away. “You don’t have to be so embarrassed. No one is here to laugh at us.”
“Tasman!” you yelled, head pressed against the barn door, hands shoved into his chest, as you tried to think of anything to calm the panic that threatened to lock your body until you were too constricted to move or speak or feel anything other than the overwhelming dread and fear at his touch. 
“I think you’re a really nice guy, but I will never want to go out with you.”
He rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face as he cocked his head to the side. 
“You don’t have to do that.”
You shook your head, not understanding what he was talking about. “Do what?”
“Play hard to get.”
“Oh my goddess.”
“I know the other girls might make it more difficult for you if they find out we’re going out, but-”
“I like girls!” you shouted. 
The cocky expression finally faltered. “What?”
“I. Like. Girls. I’m not interested in you. I will never be interested in you. Please respect that.”
His grip loosened just enough in his shock and it gave you enough time to escape. You ran, afraid that he’d snap out of his dumbfounded stupor and chase you down to continue his rant, but lucky for you, you made it home. It didn’t stop him from coming to your door the next day, demanding to see you before he all but forced himself inside your “room” to continue the conversation now that he had his wits about him. To your surprise, it was more denial. 
“I just don’t understand.”
You’d been talking in circles and it was getting you nowhere. 
“What is there to not understand? I like girls. It’s as simple as that.”
“Stop saying that. It’s not true.”
Getting annoyed, you attempted to storm past him, refusing to have this conversation, but he caught your arm, pulling you back before you could leave. 
“Wait, I just meant that we have a special connection.”
“Sure,” you said. “As friends when you aren’t being an asshole.”
“No, I mean- Don’t you think we can at least try? You might change your mind.”
You yanked your arm out of his grip, telling him that if he was going to continue acting like this, you wouldn’t speak to him. 
It was weird not having him by your side. 
You got up early on your own now, releasing the cows and chickens to wander, grooming the horses, milking, picking, plucking, shearing, all things you and he did together, but now you were alone. It was ridiculous, but you felt lonely without his incessant chatter. Your days felt boring and the work was a lot harder without him by your side. Sure it was frustrating for him to make constant passes at you and you hated how uncomfortable it was after rejecting anything that could be mistaken to be anything more than friendly affection, but you couldn’t deny you missed his presence. Though if getting him back meant giving him what he wanted, you wouldn’t concede. It would just make it that much easier for him to illegitimize your personal convictions. 
You’d catch him staring at you. He seemed to do it often now that the two of you weren’t really talking. He never seemed embarrassed to be caught, so you were left to break the uncomfortable gaze, going back to half-listened conversations. You ignored the questions about why the two of you weren’t as close as before, asking if the two of you had fought. It didn’t matter.
He would come to his senses and hopefully things could go back to the way they were.
You’d been assigned the closing chores and although you normally were able to finish twice as fast since a certain someone was always by your side, it took longer since you were alone. You sighed, continuing to recognize the loss his absence had, but you tried not to think about it. Tried to stop yourself from frowning whenever you thought of how lonely it made you feel. 
After herding the animals in to their respective pens and putting the horses in the barn, you turned to lock the barn and call it a night, but Tasman was standing there, silent. 
“Tasman!” you exclaimed, a nervous laugh erupting as you held your chest. “You scared me. Why didn’t you say something?”
He didn’t respond. 
It was awkward, watching him watch you without a word, but you decided it was the perfect chance to let him know how you felt. 
“I’ve missed you.” you said honestly, wiping your sweaty calloused hands on the pants you were wearing as you took a step closer. “Things haven’t really been the same without you.”
“I’ve missed you too.” he said. 
You smiled, feeling something bloom in your heart, thinking maybe he was coming around to seeing things your way. That he would apologize and put all of what happened behind the two of you. 
“Go out with me.” he said, the smile fading as your expression turned cold. 
“We already talked about this.” you said, crossing your arms. “You know why we can’t.”
“But I don’t! How do you know this isn’t just a phase? That you’re just looking for an excuse because you’re scared to be with me?” 
You scoffed, feeling resentment beginning to build. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t look at him and hear those words from him if your wanted to preserve any semblance of the relationship the two of you built. 
“I’m not talking about this if you refuse to listen.” you said. You went to exit the barn, but he pulled you closer, cupping your face in his hands before kissing you. 
Your hand came up before you could stop yourself, slapping him across the face. He didn’t seem to register your refusal as he caught you wrist in his hand before he was pulling you closer. 
“Tasman, stop.”
“I can fix you.”
“Tasman!” you growled, backing away and wrenching your hand in his grip, though he refused to let you go. 
“I can fix you. I can fix it. I can fix it.” he said, sounding possessed. He was looking beyond you, to something you couldn’t hope to see as his words became more desperate, more driven. 
You protested when you felt yourself being dragged towards the mountain of hay you just raked together before he shoved you back and you felt the air escape from your lungs as you landed. Scrambling to sit up, you felt paralyed with fear at the entranced expression on his face. 
“What are you doing?” you asked, your throat constricting with what you didn’t want to imagine would happen next. What you couldn’t imagine that he would do. 
Tasman was your best friend.
“I can fix it.” he repeated, sounding like a broken record as he caught your ankle to stop your backward retreat. “Just give me a chance.”
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astraaa3 · 3 months
Note
please please please can you do valentino and male reader please i really like your writing
👉👈
anything sfw and/or nsfw is fine :3
A/N: You want it, you got it, Anon. Thanks for the request toots. Had a blast writing this one. >.<
Feedback is much appreciated (also, if you would like to proofread the degenerate shit I write please send a dm).
Valentino x Male!Reader
Note: You can imagine the reader to have whatever body type you prefer. While in this request Reader has a bodyguard position that doesn't mean that he was chosen for his physique. (Valentino is an asshole so he most likely hired Reader for shits and giggles) Now off we go.
=========˚ʚ♡ɞ˚=========
Headcanons:
Valentino likes teasing you. A LOT. Grabbing your hips, hugging you from behind, patting your head, rubbing your cheeks whenever you forgot to shave, linking his arm with yours, he always found an excuse to touch you.
Why was Valentino so tactile? Well, his love language was physical touch. Of course, he would take any chance he could to indulge. That said, the biggest reason was how you always blushed or laughed embarrassed at the public displays of affection.
Valentino loved teasing you. From changing in front of you to other…. explicit acts, he adored flustering you. And he wasn't quiet about it either. "Aww, what's wrong baby? I'm just helping you accomodate~" or "Oh come on papi, don't tell me you don't like what you see." (at one point you started keeping a catalog of the pet names he used for you)
After you decided to ask Valentino out for a date (you hyped yourself up while looking in a mirror for days before actually being able to get the words out), you found out that there was more to your boss than you had come to know. You learned that Valentino ADORED fast food, that he was shit at taking care of pets (Queef reference whom), and that he loved dancing and laughing at romcoms.
You asked him out initially out of some pathetic crush, but after the first few dates, you fell. And you fell hard. Following him around like some love-sick puppy, pouting when he was hooking up with girls at the club.
Valentino thought that it was fucking cute. So he did what he always does with things he finds interesting. He took you to bed. He didn't expect you to cuddle him the moment you were done. Much less for you to praise him. HIM. He had a minor mental breakdown while you fell asleep.
After Valentino came to terms with the fact that he started caring for you more than he planned to initially, he immediately claimed you as his. Taking you out in public and overplaying how lovey-dovey the two of you were, dressing you up in tuxes, and dining at high-end restaurants. Getting 'accidentally' caught fondling you inside of one of the clubs he owned, Valentino did everything to make sure there was not a single soul in Hell who didn't know that you were his.
A fun fact that Valentino learned about you when you officially started dating was that you would melt after being praised. And oh boy did he take advantage of that. Flattery fell out of Valentino's mouth like a waterfall whenever he saw the opportunity. "You are so handsome sweetheart, turning heads wherever you go. But those worms better keep their hands to themselves or I will FUCKING END THEM." (cue aggressive moth clicking noises)
You did get into fights with Valentino. Particularly about his short temper. While you were rarely on the receiving end of his rages, you did witness them quite often. Thankfully, Valentino agreed to try to be less rash and aggressive when he got mad. But it was still a work in progress. And there was a LOT of progress to be had.
=========˚ʚ♡ɞ˚=========
Small prompt: How it started
You had just gotten used to your new job when your life took a new turn yet again. It seemed like a normal day at first, you were just helping with putting the props in their places when the door slammed open, Valentino angrily stopping in his moth wings unfurled hanging behind him like a cape. It was the first time you saw Valentino without his signature coat…wings….whatever on. You blushed and started dumbly at him as your brain tried to process… heart…. nipples….(homerotic panic ensue). Valentino being Valentino of course noticed this. And making a mental note of your admittedly cute reaction he made a decision.
The next day you were called to his penthouse at the top of the V tower. You once again found yourself staring dumbly at the pictures of Valentino hanging up on the walls, your whole face turning red. Hearing a chuckle behind you, you immediately turned around embarrassed, fiddling a bit with your pants to hide the reaction caused by the pictures. (if Valentino noticed it, you were thankful that he said nothing about it or you would have died on the spot from embarrassment).
"Is this the first time you see any of my photoshoots, amorcito?" Valentino said with a smirk staring at your flushing face.
"U-uh. Yeah. I didn't know you also work in front of the camera and not just behind it." you said trying to sound more professional than you actually felt at the moment, it helped calm down the flush on your cheeks a bit.
Valentino nodded heading to the plush couch in the room sitting and crossing his fishnet-clad legs. Staring at you for a second, he took a drag of his cigarette.
"To keep matters short, you're getting promoted. From now on you will act as my bodyguard."
You stared at him confused for a second. He was an Overlord and well, you were just some random sinner who barely knew how to defend himself.
"I'm sorry, Sir, but I... I'm a bit confused. You are an Overlord and well, I think you could protect yourself better than I would be able to. Respectfully."
You could see his eyebrow twitching in what you could tell was annoyance. Smiling a few too many teeth at you, some pink liquid dripping from his lips, Valentino snarled out.
"Do I need to explain myself to you? Don't forget who's your boss bitch. You're working as my bodyguard from now on because I say so, bitch."
His fury seemed to disappear in an instant afterward, getting up and sliding his hand across the back of your shoulders in an overly sweet manner.
"You're going to do great amorcito. Now, off you go, enjoy your last day of setting up props."
With that, he sent you off. Sighing nervously, you couldn't help but think: 'Well, this is going to be interesting. That's for sure' (You had no idea how true those thoughts would prove to be) =========˚ʚ♡ɞ˚========= Send requests ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
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bellasprettywords · 26 days
Text
So High School pt. II (Spencer Reid x Reader)
a/n: This little one shot is the continuation for So High School, I really hope you guys enjoy it
As always, this is not proofread because of who I am as a person
My masterlist
Warnings: Just fluff and kissing
Word count: 813
y/n – your name
Part 1
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Saturday finally came around, and you were a little too excited about your date with Reid; you finished tying up and prepping the living room, making sure you had enough blankets, cushions, and snacks, so everything could go perfectly. Once again, the feeling of being sixteen, and having your first hang out after school with the guy you were crushing on invaded your whole body, and made your stomach flutter with excitement, when suddenly, you heard a buzzing from the intercom.
“Hi, y/n, this is Spencer… Reid!” you heard the young doctor stutter nervously, and the butterflies in your stomach went crazy
“Hi, let me buzz you in, and you already know the way up” you said trying to sound cool, and collected, but pretty sure that the huge smile on your face sounded through the intercom. After a couple of minutes, you heard a soft knocking on your door, you opened it and the gorgeous Doctor was leaning over the door frame, holding a small cardboard box.
“I brought pie! You know, because we are watching American Pie, I’m not sure what the movie is about, but if it’s about pies we are prepared” Spencer said, handing you the little box with a huge grin, with his cheeks turning bight pink
“Thank you, wow, that’s lovely, although there are not that many pies in American Pie… it actually the expression… well, you’ll see, please come on in” you said chuckling. Gosh! He really was the sweetest man in the whole world, and you just couldn’t believe that you’d have him all by yourself for at least a couple of hours
“Please take a sit wherever you’d like” you said motioning to your couch, “And, would you like anything to drink? I’ve got water, soda, tea, juice, and coffee, although it may be kinda late for coffee, you know?” you asked Spencer walking into the kitchen
“Actually, coffee was great, I’d take it with five sugars, please” he said, taking a look around your apartment living room, making you a little nervous about him profiling you through the stuff that’s lying around in the room
“Damn Doctor Reid, and you wonder why you can’t stop shaking” you said chuckling to hide the fact that you were nervous about having your crush at home. You sat down on the couch handing Spencer his coffee, and trying to shake away the nervousness that the situation created for you: you were alone, in your apartment, with the guy you’ve been crushing on for the last two years, but you were always too shy to admit it.
You played the movie and for the first fifteen minutes the two of you were completely immobile, but as the jokes progressed, you could feel Spencer and yourself moving closer and closer to each other. In the blink of an eye, you were cuddling under a blanket with your face leaned on Spencer’s shoulder and his arm was wrapped around you, softly caressing your arm.
“Do you know what this reminds me of?” you asked, looking up at the guy whose arms you were wrapped on
“Tell me” he said, looking into your eyes sweetly
“This date definitely reminds me of high school dates, you know, just hanging out watching a movie, although, those date usually ended with heavy make out sessions” you said jokingly and Spencer gulped loudly
“I… I wouldn’t know, I graduated from high school at 12, so I didn’t really have any dates with my peers” he said looking a bit embarrassed maybe?
“Oh, well, you didn’t miss much, I mean, dates pretty much went like this, although…” you said sitting up straight on the couch and Spencer gave you a puzzled look; you knew this was your chance, and you were going to take it. You leaned slowly towards Spencer, caressing his cheek with your hand, as you felt him leaning closer to you
“Is it okay if I…?” you started asking, but were quickly interrupted by Spencer’s lips, merging sweetly into yours. You moved your hands to his head, where you caressed Spencer’s curls, and you felt him placing his hands to your waist, making you sit closer to him as the kiss progressed. Spencer swiftly pulled you over his lap, and you gave a small bite to his lower lip, which gave Spencer the green light to insert his tongue into your mouth and move his hands from your waist, to your lower back
“Thank you” Spencer said in between kissed, which made you pull away from him to understand what was going on, so he went on “You know, for giving me the High School experience I missed out on” he said with a small smile forming into his lips
“You don’t have to thank me, but I’ll take another kiss” you said jokingly and Spencer leaned once more, kissing you tenderly
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eoieopda · 1 year
Note
Jadie, are you taking Stray Kids Requests now?! Omg. OMG. Can we please have reader and Chan being super soft after a fight? I feel like he’s kind of intimidating (not on purpose) when he’s annoyed but then so sweet to make up for it 😍
aaaah my first foray into skz writing 🤪 sorry to this man for being introduced mid-fight lmao.
established relationship au, precursory angst and a marshmallow ending
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Fuck.
Bang Chan knew it the second he raised his voice that he shouldn’t have. He never did — ever — and the reason for that was buried in the bewildered look in your eyes. Even more jarring than his sudden outburst was the speed at which your surprise began to drown in half-formed tears.
Your rapid blinking had barely kept the tide at bay.
Chan’s friends had told him before that he often looked angrier than he felt. Knowing this, he did his best to manage the optics; to keep you from interpreting his frustration as something more intense. He’d been successful at it for years — until he wasn’t.
There may have, at one point, been a reason for his becoming upset — but he’d already forgotten what that was. Whatever it might have been, it sure as shit wasn’t worth the way you’d looked at him.
Just as soon as he started, he’d cut himself off mid-sentence and reached out for you like he always did. This time, you didn’t reach back. Instead, you’d recoiled like his arm was a snake primed to bite. When you promptly turned and walked away, you’d left him standing alone with his outstretched hand still in the air.
Fuck.
Chan had spent the subsequent twenty minutes pacing with the excess of his sweatshirt sleeves balled up in his fists.
His gut instinct had been to follow you out of his office, to not let you walk away angry — he fought it. You were more than entitled to space after being spoken to in that tone. So, that’s what he gave you — until he couldn’t stop himself from trying to make it right.
When Chan entered the bedroom, you were sitting cross-legged on your side of the bed with your back to the door. You didn’t acknowledge his presence when he crossed over to you, or when he slipped into the space behind you on the mattress. Radio silence, save for your barely-audible sniffling.
Shit.
“Baby,” Chan called out to you softly.
No response.
Shit.
He scooted closer, slowly, as if he’d spook you otherwise. You didn’t move away — a good sign — so he reached out and let his thumb graze gently over the exposed skin of your forearm. There was the tiniest shift in your posture; a microscopic slump of your shoulders. An ounce of tension dissipated.
Progress.
Chan repeated himself, “Baby?”
Then he punctuated his plea by placing a soft, experimental kiss on your shoulder. You sniffled, relaxed the tiniest bit more.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to shout at you, but I did and you didn’t deserve it.”
You let out a quiet, shaky exhale as if you were about to speak, but you said nothing. You did, however, accept his arms as they wrapped around you. Even better, you leaned back into his chest as he guided you into the space between his legs.
Chan kissed the top of your head and hoped you felt how much he loved you. In the event that you didn’t, he said as much, holding you even tighter: “You are my favorite part of every day. I’m sorry that I’ve done such a shit job of expressing that. I love you, completely.”
You remained quiet for a few moments. In that time, your closeness was enough for him; you didn’t owe him one goddamn thing. But you breathed in deep enough for him to feel it too, and then you said it:
“I love you completely, too… dingus.”
Stunned silence immediately gave way to breathless laughter. And when his mirth got too heavy to shoulder, you joined him in crashing sideways and smiling into the pillows.
A dingus and the best girl.
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leeneir · 5 months
Note
Hehy! If you are writing Yandere can I request canons for Iso?
Look at Me Please; Shy Yandere!Iso x Reader Headcanons P.1
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I'm working on another req fic as we speak, but I'm taking breaks to do this one bc him being "Mine all mine" is very appealing🥰🫶
And yes, part 1. This prompt just got my Iso loving brain rolling.
Pre Relationship
I want you to think of these like its u and him progressing, as if its a timeline of ur relationship.
- A shy possesive yandere. You are his, no questions. But he doesn't have the courage to show it enough (for now.)
- Iso was always forced to cut off his connections due to the organization, but the Valorant Protocol was different. He found someone there worth going against everything he's known all his life.
- The moment his eyes set on you, he had an overwhelming urge to always be near you and always wanted to know where you were and who you were with.
- He spots you and Jett having flirty banter in the hallway and later during training 'accidentally' shot a bullet which shoots through the wall right next to her head. He barely glances at the wind radiant and mutter a half-hearted apology, but that glance was enough to give Jett the creeps.
- You notice how he's always near or around you and you decide to befriend him like the friendly person you were, you'll notice how his eyes fixate on you as if you were a precious jewel in the muddy dirt but don't pay it any mind.
- While you were chatting, he suddenly blurts out "You're beautiful," and immediately goes red in the face and stammering out apology after apology while he pulls his collar up to cover his face.
- You laugh as you try to calm him down, saying that you were flattered that he thought so. You place your hand on his shoulder while his back is turned to you and he freezes for a good 3 seconds before he looks back at you, his eyes had such intensity as they met yours. You pat and reassure him again, telling him that you thought he was handsome too.
- He decided something that day. Killing Omen wouldn't be worth it because it meant he'd have to cut off the valorant protocol, meaning he'd never see you again. Being with you was better than having to deal with his employers anyway.
- You, and your voice he couldn't get enough of, and your amazing skill and talent both in and off the battlefield, and your pretty face, and your pretty body, and your enchanting self that he wants all for himself.
- Back to actual headcanons. He's always very desperate to get your attention but he's too shy to actually ask for it. Which is why he'll always make sure to outperform everyone during training so that he can receive sweet praises from you that he'll repeat in his head for weeks.
- When you get injured out on the field on the same mission, Iso will go berserk. Even if it's just a graze. All you can do is hope that he'll be ok when he goes silent on the comms.
- Iso does NOT listent to reason and destroys his earpiece as he slowy digs his knife deeper into the enemies throat. How DARE they ruin your perfect body.
- He's always watching. Always in the darkest shadows where you never even know he's there. He has his eyes on you more than Cypher.
- Speaking of him, Iso has threatened Cypher to keep his prying eyes and ear aeay from you. He doesn't deserve to even be on the same world as you. His arena has space for a new corpse if need be.
- He doesn't take snacks offered to him by other agents. If you offer though, he wouldn't even eat it. He'd place it in his room with all the other memoirs he's collected from you.
- As time goes on, he gets braver. He starts putting his hands on your back, he initiates conversations, he offers you private training sessions and more. But that doesn't stop the ever growing urge to hold you, touch you, and keep you all to himself and not let anyone else even look at you.
- No one will get in the way. And I mean no one.
- If you get hurt again, he'll insist he'll patch you up himself. There's no need to go to Sage when he has an excuse to touch you can fix you up too.
- One day, you shoot your shot. You ask him out on a boba tea date, and he has to take a moment to compose himself. YOU were asking HIM out on a date? Was this a dream? Was this a prank by you and the others?
- Either way, he agrees with a soft smile, saying how he's been interested in you for a while and also wanted to ask you out but never knew how to. You laugh, your sweet, sweet, deliciously beautiful laugh he wants to hear more of and you joke about how you beat him to it, before setting up a time and meetup location before going off to your room to get ready.
- You don't notice the way his eyes are eating up the sight of you, and you don't notice how his soft smile turned into one of pure ecstasy and hunger. His face completely red at the idea of going on a date with you and is just so happy that he almost forgot about his plan to cause a minor life-threatening injury to Yoru for being such an asshole to you earlier that week. Almost.
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sluttsumu · 8 months
Text
ೃ࿐ feat. gojo satoru
warning: 18+, teacher x student, vaginal penetration, gojo being a naughty little minx, praise of you squint
ೃ࿐ ki’s note: i’m switching to lower case! so it’s intended, not proof read but enjoy professor gojo fixing his students lil problem ♡︎
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pussy hungry professor, satoru gojo.
it’s been a while, ya know? since he’s heard the whole “i’ve been baaaaaad professor” speech. even though all of his female students would practically fall to their knees if presented the chance, but very few were actually bold enough to take matters into their own hands.
“how so?” he tilts his head, holding back a smirk. he wants to see how this’ll play out, right now he remembers seeing better acting in a porno. “you come to class timely, and return all of your assignments to me on time. so,” he leans forward, fabric sliding against the wood on his desk. his palm makes way for his chin to rest as he watches you. “help me understand your problem.”
you sat on the corner of his desk innocently placing your hands in your lap. except nothing was innocent about this at all, a teacher and a student was taboo no matter the circumstances. that didn’t stop the lust you had, every time he spoke, handed out a worksheet, called your name, it added gas to a fire that should’ve been put out since you started school.
“you distract me sir, make me nervous…”
gojo wasn’t buying this at all, that little scared look on your face along with the way you play with the hem on your skirt was just turning him on. “nervous?” he stands, meeting you in between your legs, standing in the void space. “you seem so comfortable sitting on my desk like this, hmm?”
“you’re a great student,” his hands creep up your thighs sending goosebumps to the rest of you skin. so cute, he thought. “why don’t i give you some extra credit since you’re always so good for me?”
you seemed like you needed something so gojo chose to give you a push, the ball was now in your court and he knew that’d you act like this wasn’t what you came in here for. how far were you willing to let your little fantasy go?
“s-sir? what do you mean… i-”
your fake obliviousness fell on deaf ears as he moved your panties to the side hiking up your skirt in the process while his thumb found your clit, rubbing small circles on the bundle of nerves. “what i-if someone sees us.” you protest, tucking in your bottom lip to restrain the sounds of your pleasure from him toying with you.
“my door’s locked after hours, you know that ♡︎”
seeing you squirm under his touch has a tent forming in his dress pants, he could feel you getting wetter and wetter by the second. your face was really undoing him though. the flushed expression of pent up heat, he knew it all to well. “please,” you beg, head hanging back as he continues teasing your aching cunt.
“big girl words, just like the ones you use in all those papers you write me.”
“need you—! inside please.”
that was what he liked to hear, not the “b-but we shouldn’t.” bullshit you were spewing earlier. this was the type of work he loved seeing sprawled on his desk. his favourite straight A student earning her first D of the semester.
the sound of his belt buckle echoing quickly progressed to him rubbing against your folds, sinking into your throbbing cunt so fucking slowly, almost agonizing.
“christ,” he huffs, wrapping his arms around the plush of your thighs — spreading you open. “tight fuckin’ fit.”
you can’t believe this is happening, he’s so fucking big your cunt can’t help but flutter around him, and he fucking feels it. feels the way you’re squeezing him in like his cock belongs here, nuzzled between the folds of his star student.
“s’big, too big..” your hand flies to your stomach feeling him move in and out of you as you grow slicker. “ ‘m here,” he grunts, placing his hand atop yours pushing your top half to lie flat. “right here princess.” the pressure grows while he forces you to feel him, making you press down on your own stomach. “sir!!!”
your cunning teacher loves watching the way he makes you feel, hearing every moan, watching you spread open for him in the very place he teaches you every day. it’s so lewd but he doesn’t want to think about that, no, he can only think of how fucking tight you feel around his cock which you practically begged for the entire semester. gojo never wants it to end, rutting his hips into you that much faster at the thought of you practically fucking yourself in your seat for him yet he was too stubborn to notice.
“still nervous? or do you love getting fucked and filled by your professor.”
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sluttsumu 2023
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bwabys-scenarios · 1 month
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Hi bwaby ~ I’m new to your page and I love your yandere posts ^^ I’m reading the ones you’ve written for Kurapika. I saw your requests were open.
How do you think hxh yanderes would respond to their captive s/o having a panic/anxiety attacks when their captor tries to get intimate? How would they go about that?
🖤 ur work 🖤🖤🖤 thnx
Yandere!HXH respond to you panicking during intimacy
!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!
warnings: dubcon, panic attack, bad aftercare, forced cuddling, slight manipulation/coercion with Chrollo(it backfires), vomit in Chrollo’s, Feitan is emotionally distant, Kurapika is unstable
A/N: just a little note that none of my yanderes will ever rape the reader. I just include dubious consent because being captive blurs the lines of consent. Can you really consent when you’re captive? I don’t know, so I include it just in case, even though in my eyes reader is always consenting during these acts. I’m not comfortable with writing out rape, so this situation is the farthest I go.
characters included: Kurapika, Leorio, Chrollo, Feitan, Illumi
Yandere NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @aliceattheart @pannacottababy
‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️
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Kurapika
First of all, Kurapika is VERY hesitant to initiate any intimacy after he takes you away. He wants you to get used to your captivity before he starts anything.
Kurapika is also the only yandere on this list that won’t be overly pushy in terms of physical contact most if the time, and honestly he’s okay if you never love him again… even if he really wants you to love him and give him lots of affection. He knows he did something unforgivable by taking you away from your life, and he’s willing to be hated by you if it means you’ll be safe.
Now, when you do eventually initiate some kind of intimacy he is over the moon. He would do anything for you, desperate to please you and make the experience as good as possible. Kurapika wants your love, your physical touch, and he wants it willingly.
So when he initiates, kissing along your neck with his hand gently rubbing your clothed cunt, he stops immediately when you start to panic. “My angel? Are you okay?”
He’s quick to pull away and give you space. His hands shake and he feels guilt and panic rise in his own chest. Did he just ruin all of the progress the two of you had?
But you calm down after a little, and lean against him. “I… I’m sorry, I just… I got really anxious.”
He’s quick to wrap his arms around you, tentatively smoothing out your hair. “Don’t apologize… shh, just relax. We don’t have to do anything.”
Kurapika spends the rest of the night just a bit unstable, terrified that he’ll do something to upset you. He just loves you so much and he doesn’t want to lose your love and affection when he just got it back. The next day he makes sure to pamper you more than usual, and he’s almost a bit clingy… as if he’s scared he’ll lose you.
Leorio
He’s pretty handsy, though most of his touches are just affectionate in nature. When you cuddle, he has his hand in your ass or thigh, kneading at the soft flesh.
Leorio likes to have you in his lap as often as possible, where he can move you as he pleases as cover you in kisses as he holds you as close as possible.
He’s eager to get back to sex after he takes you, though he won’t push… too much. Leorio is just super clingy and you’re already sitting pretty on his lap, the only thing separating you from his is that pretty skirt you’re wearing!
It was a normal day, with you sitting in his lap after he tugged you his way. But this time, instead of the usual soft squish he’d give your thigh or kisses to your cheek or the top of your head, Leorio started moving you back and forth against the bulge firming in his pants.
You instantly froze, feeling his warm breath on your neck. When you began to panic and cry, Leorio paused for a moment. “Princess? Something wrong?”
When you started to struggle, he gently set you down. The air was thick and heavy with tension and awkward energy. He scratched the back of his neck, his boner gone. “You alright?”
You shook your head. “I… I don’t want to, Leorio… I’m scared…”
He felt his heart break a little, but he was quick to reach out and gently ruffle your hair. “Don’t be scared… I won’t… do anything to you that you don’t want…”
But it felt a bit hypocritical, considering he did steal you from your old life against your will. Leorio had standards though, and one of those was not assaulting people.
That night, he was way less clingy than usual, giving you some space and time to process things… but you joined him in bed for snuggles later.
Chrollo
He kept telling you he wanted to make your first time with him special, that he’d buy you flowers and pretty lingerie to wear. He even suggested getting a nicer hotel than usual, which was shocking because the hotels you usually stayed in with him were beyond luxurious.
So when the special night came, he took you out to a fancy dinner, letting you order whatever you wanted. You had become very complacent, accepting the fact you’d never be able to escape him… not even in death.
So you are your food, and you bathed before putting on the set of lingerie he surely paid a high price for, and sat on the bed, waiting for him to get back from a meeting with some phantom troupe members that were in town.
The wait already had you anxious, but the way he kept going on and on about how perfect he made everything and how much effort he put into this night put a lot of pressure on you to do well.
And that was on purpose. He wanted you to know just how much he had done for you… how much he craved and adored you. With him, you would be endlessly pampered and loved… all you had to do was be a good girl and do as he said.
So by the time he got back, you were already anxiously fidgeting with your lacy black lingerie, biting your lip.
Now… he didn’t want to make you anxious, just a little nervous. He thought it would be cute to see you squeak like a timid little mouse as he took you… he didn’t want you to stiffly lie down and tear up when he unbuttoned his shirt.
And he hadn’t expected you to throw up from the stress of it all.
He felt a bit guilty, you were crying and muttering apologies as he called for room service, trying to clean it up yourself. Had he instilled that much fear in you that you shook in terror at the thought of upsetting you? That’s not what Chrollo wanted… despite his sly and manipulative nature, he wanted you to genuinely love him and see him as someone that protected and took care of you.
So once you calmed down a little, he pulled you in and snuggled you, kissing the top of your head. “I..: apologize. We’ll do this at your pace.”
You couldn’t really break away from his grip… and you didn’t want to anger him, so you let him hold you close and gently rock you.
Feitan
Feitan already is absolute garbage with intimacy, so it’s rare he’ll initiate anything. He’s both insecure and emotionally distant, but also longs for your affection and physical touch.
But he also HATES physical touch… so being his darling is a confusing experience where you’re constantly walking on eggshells.
The rare instances when he tries to be intimate with you, you almost leap with joy. He’s the only other human you have physical contact with, and you’ve almost gone crazy without touch and affection.
He’s very insecure and sensitive to rejection, so when he touches you, even if it’s just subpar, you praise him endlessly with soft whimpers and moans. He’s pretty skilled with his fingers considering he was a virgin before he met you.
So when he’s got his hands on your hips and ready to push his cock into your pretty pussy, instead of the usual happy whines you make… you instead whimper and shy away from him.
He’s tortured many people, so he can recognize the signs of a panic attack easily. You don’t know what came over you, but you just started to break down, crying and rocking yourself.
Feitan froze up, not knowing what to do. He’s not used to comforting others, and he already feels the harsh sting of rejection from your reaction. Was he that bad?
But… he’s able to push that away. He puts a blanket over your naked form and gently rubs your back while looking the other way.
“… don’t have to. Just say when don’t want it.”
And that’s all you get. He doesn’t kiss away your tears or clean you up… but it’s a big step forward. For Feitan, comforting another human being is hard, so the fact he’s trying for you proves that you mean something to him.
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Text
Motorcycle Rides
Pairings: Sebastian x you
Wordcount: 1623
You limped out of the mine, your pack heavy with materials. That last bunch of slimes had really taken it out of you and as you’d realized your strength was depleting, you’d turned on your heels and ran, only to twist your ankle on a rock.
You leant heavily against the wall, trying to catch your breath in the cool night air. Truth be told, you’d lost all track of time in the mines and it was now just before midnight on a Tuesday for goodness’ sake. You’d hoped to get to bed at a decent time for once, despite your endless to-do list. You’d only meant to be in the mines an hour or two tops!
After your heart had stopped pounding, you reached down and tentatively prodded at your ankle before wincing at the pain. It was already swelling and that probably wasn’t a great sign. This was a situation you hadn’t considered before embarking on your new life in Pelican Town – what exactly do you do in an emergency? There was Harvey’s clinic, but that would involve limping down there and waking him up over your own stupidity.
If you were going to be limping anywhere, you might as well limp home. Heck, the town was gossiping about you enough, you didn’t want your midnight trip to the clinic to be their next topic. You took a deep breath and took a step – there was a sharp ache that immediately dulled, but it was tolerable? It had to be tolerable, you concluded, as you took another shuffling step. It might take you all night, but you were determined to get home.
It was slow, painful progress as you found yourself walking past the carpenter’s house.
“Farmer?”
You jumped from the voice, your ankle immediately twisting on its side and you fell flat to the ground on your back, groaning.
“Sorry…” a figure appeared above you, looking down with an apologetic smile. It was the carpenter’s son… Sebastian? “I didn’t think you’d be so jumpy with being out so late and all.”
“I… I guess I just thought everyone in this town was a bed by 10pm on a week night crowd.”
“Well, the majority are. Er…” He hesitated, almost as if he was debating something in his head before he offered his hand. “Can I help you up?”
“Thanks.” Truth be told, you weren’t sure how graceful you would be at getting up without his assistance, so you happily accepted. In a combination of not expecting him to be as strong as he was and your weakened ankle, you were ill-prepared for getting back to your own two feet. You nearly went falling back down when Sebastian caught you in his arms and you threw yours around his neck. From your glow ring, you could clearly see the black-haired man’s face had flushed red.
“Sorry, that’s us city folk”, you tried to make light of the situation. “We swoon at any country man.”
That didn’t seem to help as – you didn’t think it was possible – his face had gone even more red.
“Er… here,” he tilted you upright, trying to get you to stand on your own two feet. You tried to comply, but your ankle collapsed underneath you, the sharp jolt of pain bringing tears to your eyes. You grabbed hold of his upper arm in a fierce grip. “You all right there?”
“No… I-I’ve hurt my ankle,” you swallowed, trying to keep the tears at bay. “I was in the mines and I twisted it. I thought I could limp home on it but that seems like a really dumb idea.”
“Ah…” Sebastian mumbled. “Erm, should I wake Maru? She works at the clinic part-time, she’ll probably know what to do.”
“No, please don’t. People are talking about me enough without adding this to the mix. I’ll be okay. I’ll just… I’ll take five and then it’ll be okay. You should go home.”
“I mean, I don’t know exactly how things go down in Zuzu City, but I can’t exactly go to bed and leave you out here.”
“That’s exactly how things would go down in Zuzu City. You’re a natural.” You grimaced.
“Er…” Sebastian paused. “Wait, I think I’ve got an idea. Do you wanna sit?”
You blushed, before mumbling, “I don’t think I could with any sense of grace.”
“I got you,” an arm wrapped around your waist and helped you down towards the ground.
“Right, I’ll be back in a moment.” He turned and went to head back up to his house.
“Wait, Sebastian…” He spun on his heels and looked at you quizzically. “Thank you.”
He smiled shyly, before walking out of sight, swallowed by the darkness.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed when Sebastian eventually returned. There was a brief moment when you thought he wasn’t coming back. Maybe it was some sort of Pelican Town hazing… The black-haired man eventually reappeared, wheeling along a motorcycle in tow towards you before stopping.
“So, it’s not working reliably at the moment – I’ve been working on fixing it up. But I thought you could sit on it and I can wheel it along back to the farm? Means you can take the weight off your ankle and get home and ice it, I guess? Or heat. One of those.”
“Honestly, you don’t have to do this. It’s so late.” You protested, embarrassed that your antics had led to this.
“I’ll be up for hours yet anyway. Plus, I’m curious to see what you’ve done with the land and it’ll get you home – win-win.” He put the bike’s kick stand out to balance the machine, before crouching down and offering his hand again.
You hesitated. “Only if you’re really sure.”
“I’m positive. Come on.”
You took it, allowing him to pull you up fully this time and you made sure to let your uninjured leg take all the weight. “Hop on.” He kept a tight grip on your hand as you swung your injured leg over the seat and boosted yourself up onto it.
“Cool. Right, er, probably best if you hold onto the handles too.” You followed his instructions, and he leant over, positioning his hands next to yours before kicking the stand back in place. There was a momentary wobble before you found your balance and Sebastian moved forward, pushing it along up towards the path you knew would lead back to your farm.
“What were you doing out so late? Not that I’m complaining,” you quickly rectified.
“I got wrapped up in work and forgot to get out today. I thought I’d have the night to myself,” he teased. “Was that your first trip down the mines?”
“Oh, gosh, no. The Adventure’s Guild and Marlon gave me some tips and I think that was my fifth trip. I probably went down a bit too far for the equipment I have, but to get better equipment I need money and the mine’s good for making a quick buck. Crops take their sweet time…”
“Ah, makes sense.” He nodded.
“What do you do?”
“I’m a freelance programmer. It’s okay, it means I can choose my own work hours. I’m more productive later in the day, so…”
“Oh, really? That’s so cool.”
You fell into a companionable silence. Thankfully, it wasn’t a long walk back to the farm and Sebastian let out a whistle as he admired your work so far.
“Wow, this looks different.”
“A good different?” You frowned.
“Of course. You’ve been busy – this was all weeds and rocks the last time I was out here. What are you growing?”
“Just potatoes and turnips – they’ll be out of season soon but I should get another load out… if I can keep the crows at bay.”
He wheeled the motorcycle up to the bottom of your porch, eyeing the steps. “Er, do you want a hand up the stairs?”
“If you don’t mind…” You mumbled – you weren’t convinced hopping up them would be a winning formula. Sebastian put the kick stand back down, then assisted you off his motorcycle. He hooked an arm around your back, just under your armpits to steady you as you hopped towards the stairs, and then took a big leap up the first one as he kept your balance. You were extremely grateful there were only three stairs and you exhaled in relief now safely at your front door.
“Thank you so much, Sebastian. I wish there was something I could give you in return…” You trailed off as he began to protest, but then you remembered – there was that cool-looking mineral you’d found earlier… You dug around in your satchel, leaning heavily on your front door, until your fingers found the smooth surface.
You withdrew it and Sebastian’s eyes lit up. “A frozen tear?”
“Is that what it is? Some weird creature dropped it – I think it came from deeper down in the mines. I thought it must be special. I was going to take it to Gunther tomorrow to identify, but it seems you’re a fan, so, please…”, you pushed it into his hands, “Take it.”
“No, I couldn’t…”
“I insist.” You unlocked the door behind you before he could really protest. “Goodnight, Sebastian. And, hey, every time you look at it, you can remember the time you helped the idiot farmer home.”
“Goodnight…” He continued to stare at the mineral in his hands as he heard your door open and close, “But I’m totally going to remember the time I helped the cute farmer home.” He said that a little louder than he intended and blushed, glancing up to see your door firmly closed at least.
Fortunately, your window was open and you’d definitely heard.
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lowkeychenle · 6 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.
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kissingchoso · 1 year
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guys who you’re in a friends with benefits relationship in but they can’t help but to act like your actual boyfriend. he picks up your favorite food whenever he’s coming around to your place, has an entire drawer in his bedroom that’s dedicated to your clothes you’ve left over the months, texts you clingy messages to the point where anyone reading would rightfully assume you’re dating!
him: ‘there’s a new art exhibit opening tomorrow in the city. let’s go. we can get lunch after.’
he’d proceed to send you a link of the museum you’ve been meaning to go to for some time now. the exhibit looks promising as a lot of the new art have been made by a lot of individuals across different countries, all with the focus of environmentalism and the human body. to say you were intruiged was an understatement.
you: ‘that sounds fun!! there’s this really delicious korean bbq place not too far from there too! pick me up at 10 ^^'
he shows up at 9:30, claiming he didn’t want to be late but he likes to watch you finish your entire routine. he even takes the liberty to make sure your purse is fully packed, even putting your wallet back on the top of your dresser just to make sure he’s the only one paying for everything today.
when you finish and turn to him to get his review, he grabs you and pulls you in close. “you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever laid eyes on, you know that?” he asks, head tilted slightly to the right and a growing smile on his lips.
you return the smile tenfold, his heart racing at your reciprocation. not wanting to smear off the lipgloss on your lips, he places a couple of kisses on your forehead, nose and cheek before pulling away finally and handing your purse to you.
he takes you on the best date ever. from the museum, photo ops he took of you, even to the delicious restaurant afterwards, he’s fully satisfied with how it ended up being. the shine in your eyes when you are having genuine fun with him. it’s never awkward nor filled with uncomfortable silence. the conversation is genuine through and through and you love it.
it gets even better when you ask him to come back and stay the night. you two share a secret dance where only the two of you know. his hips are unrelenting the whole time while his fingers constantly rub against that special spot that leaves you panting and wanting more. round after round, it’s never ending. his movements are so cruel but his words are sweet, leaving you properly dizzy and at his complete mercy.
“last one pretty girl,” he groans from above you, hips snapping against your ass while he has two right fingers rubbing nonstop against your clit.
all you can do is whimper from beneath him, grip on your perfectly cleaned sheets becoming looser as time progresses.
he hisses when you clench around him, unable to stop his hips from shaking when you actively are performing kegels on his cock. “fuck i’m gonna cum,” he grunts from above you. “cum with me, pretty. you can do it, i know you can.”
he coaxes his last orgasm out of you with no issue, prompting his own release not too long after. his seed fills your wet cunt, already having some escape through the crevices the longer he stays buried in your holy but he can’t help himself. you’re just too warm.
the only time he lets you go is when your body can’t hold itself up anymore and you collapse forward in bed. there’s a hiss from him when he slips out of you but he’s comfortable to watching the show in front of him, which is when his cum dribbles out of your aching pussy and staining the innocent sheets below. he’s immensely proud of you and shows it by leaving kisses up your backside until he reaches your cheekbone.
it pulls you out of sleep momentarily, long enough to hear his question, “still want me to stay the night, honey?” always the one to make sure.
all you could do is nod and mutter out a please before he’s fully assured.
don’t worry your fuzzy brain any longer. just go to sleep while your not-boyfriend gets your room settled by turning your fan on for the night and your little nightlight you have by your bathroom door. once the overheads are off, he’s tucking himself back into your side so that he can greedily pull you into his arms and doze off for himself.
tanaka, bokuto, HINATA (im biased), ARAN (also biased), osamu, suna, GETOU, yuuta, kazuha, zhongli (but only bc this man loves fwb relations), kaveh, DILUC, aether, CHILDE, AYATO, and ofc any of your favs <3
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