#what is the point of all this--for me--as a person

[lipringlrh]

HE DOESN’T WANT ME WHEN HE’S SOBER PART 2 (LANDO ENDING)

read: part one | logan ending

summary: lando’s your best friend but seems to like you when he’s drunk. but then again, he seems to like everyone when he’s drunk.

pairing: lando norris x gn!reader

wc: 1.8k

Lando wouldn’t admit it to anyone but that night was the worst sleep he’d ever had. He left as soon as he found out you’d left with Lily and Alex, and made his way to your house just to find out you weren’t there. He messaged Alex to get no response and contemplated waiting outside your door until you came back, whether it be days or months, he’d wait for you. But, after almost falling asleep numerous times and getting laughed at by a group of teenagers, he made his way back to his apartment, knowing you’d be looked after.

He was awake almost all night, messaging and calling you and regretting everything in its entirety. He didn’t fully know if you had even seen him kiss the person that resembled you, he only felt it deep down, but even if you hadn’t, he shouldn’t have done it, and he could never apologise enough. He thought of how to explain his thoughts but nothing would suffice; nothing would ever be able to explain how he felt.

At some point in the early hours, he finally drifted off, but awoke not much later to an aggressive banging on his door and a voice screaming at him to hurry up. He wished the voice was you but it wasn’t and he hated it. He rushed to his door, barely having time to pull on some grey joggers before opening it to an angry Alex, very close to breaking the door down.

“Are you stupid?” Alex questioned, fuming, pushing his way into Lando’s house, “I know that you’re in love with her so what are you doing?”

Lando looked like a deer in headlights. He couldn’t explain his actions, he didn’t even want to think about them. All he remembered feeling was grief at watching you walk away, so when he found someone that looked eerily similar, he took the chance to kiss them and create the image in his mind of kissing you. It didn’t last long. He realised too quickly that they didn’t smell like you and the way they kissed wasn’t the same. He hated it, he didn’t want to kiss anyone but you.

“I know, I didn’t mean to-”

“What, you just tripped into her mouth then?” Alex questioned, pushing a finger against Lando’s chest.

“No- no. I don’t know why I did, I really love them I promise. We almost kissed but then they walked away, I was hurt, I didn’t think they wanted me,” Lando almost cried, his voice cracking.

“You do this every time you go out. You kiss her every time you go out and she follows, you don’t get to pull that card. You might be upset but I promise you’re not even feeling half of it,” Alex spat, not caring if he hurt Lando because he hurt you much more.

“Help me apologise. I need to apologise, please Alex, please help,” Lando begged, wanting you to more than anything, “Please Alex, I’ll do anything.”

Alex sighed. At that moment, he hated Lando for what he did, but he’d been wishing for you both to get together since he first saw you both together, making heart eyes at each other. He contemplated in his head whether to help or not. He always envisioned you together but always wanted what's best for you and right now he couldn’t tell if that was Lando or not. But looking at the state of him, red, wet eyes, begging for his help, he wanted to believe Lando regretted everything and would do anything to prove he loved you.

“Okay, but I’m not letting you be forgiven easily, I want you to prove it,” Alex sighed, running his hands over his face. A feeling of simultaneous relief and guilt eating him alive.

Lando promised Alex over and over again, and in between each syllable, promising himself also that he would give you the world in apologies, and whatever happened he deserved it, but even if there was the slimmest chance you could forgive him, Lando would take it and cherish it.

Alex messaged you and you told him it was fine to bring Lando over, as long as he didn’t expect much, and so they turned up less than five minutes later. Alex left you both alone in the kitchen to sit with Lily in the living room after repeating countless times he was a shout away.

You almost broke down just seeing him but managed to keep it in. You didn’t want him to explain, you didn’t care to hear it at the moment, but as soon as Alex left he began spilling out apologies and trying to explain himself, which you quickly shut up.

“I want some space,” you sighed. You wanted Lando close but you wanted everything you felt for him gone first. You couldn’t believe he ever felt the same, not after that.

“Of course, I understand,” his voice broke as he stepped back, trying to show you he would do anything you said.

“Not like that, Lando. I mean it, I don’t think I can see you for a while.”

“Oh-” he said, “When can I see you again?”

“I’m not sure, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be, this is my fault,” he sighed, clearly upset and looking at the ground, “I’ll go, I’ll see you soon.”

After he left, you broke down crying, debating your decision on if you handled it right. You already missed him, and still loved him, but you also didn’t want to see him. Alex explained the whole morning, and his perspective, giving you hope you could fix it with Lando, especially after Alex’s approval, which you trusted more than anything.

The next few times you saw him were at hangouts with your shared friends. You knew he’d be there as none of your friends would invite him unless you were completely sure you didn’t mind him there. He stayed away, but didn’t make it awkward to the people around you, and always gave you a shy smile when you caught his eye.

He didn’t try to text or call again, despite wanting to more than anything, and instead waited for you to make the first move whenever you were ready. You had missed him more than anything, in both an “I love him” and “he’s my best friend” way, and it was killing you from being away from him, especially after how well he listened to your instructions.

You were at a mutual friend's get-together, a small barbecue in a back garden when you decided it was time. You had been debating texting him but after seeing him, you decided you couldn’t wait.

He was standing alone in a corner beside a flower patch and some grass, drink in hand, and surveying everyone that was there when you walked over. He didn’t know how to greet you and so awkwardly moved his hands between going for a hug or a handshake. You laughed and hugged him, both of you holding on tightly, unhappy to let go.

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered gently, looking down and playing with your fingers, slightly nervous to admit it to him after all this time.

“I’ve missed you too,” he grins, adding on, “So much,” with a quiet whisper.

“How’ve you been?” you asked, trying to make small talk before delving right in.

“Okay, I’ve not really done much. Races have been okay.”

“I saw,” you smiled, “You’ve done really well.”

“You watched?” he questioned, a little surprised. You met his eyes and nodded, explaining how you could never miss one.

“Do you want to talk inside?” you asked, heart pounding as you said it. He nodded immediately, without hesitation, and followed you in through the double glass doors into the kitchen, but only after picking out a daisy from the grass next to him and offering it out to you, causing both of you to grin.

He closed the doors behind you both, blocking out as much other noise as possible, ready for you to begin. “I want to know how you feel about this and about me,” you started, voice shaky.

“I’m sorry, I’m still so sorry. I love you and I want what’s best for you and I can’t even find an excuse, I was being stupid and thinking how you’d never want me. It was all nothing, you’re the only person that’s ever meant anything, I’m so sorry. I will do anything to fix this- anything.”

“Lan,” you let out a breath, “You still want me?”

“More than anything,” he grinned and you stepped forward to reach him, locking your arms around his neck.

Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair as you pull his face down until his lips are almost touching yours. He was smiling so much you thought it might be impossible to kiss him but you pulled him into you anyway, finally kissing him again.

“Stop smiling,” you laughed, pulling away to say it before immediately kissing him again.

“What? Can I not be happy? I’m getting my girl back,” he pulled away, grinning harder, then trying to drag you back in, which was almost successful until you pulled away at the last second.

“I can barely kiss you like this and I’d really, really like to,” you giggled, tugging him back again to enjoy another impatient kiss.

Your hands were running all over his head, completely ruining his hair, but he didn’t care. His hands were wrapped around your waist, holding you impossibly close. When you finally parted he still kept you close, resting his forehead on yours.

“Are you sure you want this?” he questioned, his breath still heavy.

You kissed his cheek and looked straight into his eyes, “More than anything, I promise,” you paused for a moment, “But you’re going to have to grovel to repay all the lost time we’ve had.”

“I’m going to prove to you that I’m all in, that I want this more than I could possibly explain,” Lando promised, meaning every word. He was already planning out exactly what he wanted to do - he knew he had to work to become your official boyfriend, but he would do everything possible for you.

You just stared at him, showcasing the biggest smile you’ve ever had, eyes full of love, knowing you weren’t ever going to let each other go or even risk it again.

“God I love you,” he grinned, ignoring the fact he still hadn’t caught his breath and pulling you into another, more intimate, kiss.

taglist in reblogs

[qqueenofhades]

There is no law that prevents a convicted felon from running for and becoming president, nor a law that bans someone from being president in prison. Also, if Trump gets incapacitated in someway, many ultra right republicans who equally despise trans people and immigrants and Muslims would happily take his place

And I ask, with all due respect, what is your point?

Do you think I don't know that?

Do you think I am somehow convinced that everything is hunky dory now and we don't have any work left to do?

Are you just determined to be the first of the gloom-and-doomers who show up like clockwork in my inbox, every time some consequence happens to Trump, to morosely insist that no consequences will happen to him? First it was "he'll win re-election." Then it was "the coup will succeed." Then it was "he will never be indicted." Then it was "2022 will be a red wave!" Then it was "he will never be tried." Then it was "he will never be convicted." Now we've moved on, within less than 2 hours of the first US President ever to be convicted of ONE felony, let alone THIRTY-FOUR, "he'll never be sentenced or face a real consequence or lose the election." The goalposts keep moving RIGHT along without even a single pause to acknowledge the difficulty and the value of the progress we have made thus far, and it makes me CRAZY.

Do you people realize how fucking rare it is, both in the world today and historically, for a former (and would-be future) head of state to be held to criminal account by a jury of 12 anonymous ordinary citizens? When that one person, Trump, is the center of the malignant fascist cancer that has spread through this country ever since 2016, and plenty of his cultists are still insisting that it's Trump or nobody for them? When we've actually reached the stage of holding him legally accountable for (some of) his crimes for the first time in his miserable misbegotten life? I suspect that most of you are so deep in the "America is totally broken and the system is useless and we can only Revolute!!!1" rabbit hole that you're bound and determined to argue away every step we take, however slow, as Meaning Nothing TM. Voting? Fake. Fighting to make real progress? Also fake. Everything is fake except our belief that everything is broken and we need the Keyboard Warrior Glorious Revolution!!! As long as you can keep inventing ever more contorted twists of logic to ignore everything else that's happened so far, this makes sense... or something. I guess?

Now we're onto "removing Trump won't matter :(" when a whole lot of people have been fighting day and fucking night to get all the privileged-princess Online Leftists to get off their Che Guevara cosplaying asses and cast a single fucking vote to keep us from full-on-sliding into fascism. A slide into fascism that, again, has been spearheaded and centered around Trump's toxic cult of personality and which is still tied to him in almost every way. Apparently holding him to account (again, which has never happened to him in his life) already doesn't matter because wah wah he won't suffer any consequences. If he loses this election he's probably going to jail for the rest of his life! We would have electorally defeated the greatest threat to the American democratic experiment in 250 years, and frankly a huge part of the fascist far-right hydra that is currently attempting a comeback around the world! This is, yet again:

THE FIRST TIME ANY AMERICAN PRESIDENT, EVER, HAS BEEN CONVICTED OF MULTIPLE FELONY CHARGES IN A COURT OF LAW BY A JURY OF HIS PEERS

and yet we're still hearing that nothing matters and no work has been done and removing him will have no effect???

Come on. Come on. I know it's tiring and it's slow and it doesn't go as fast as we want. But every single damn time the process goes another step, here you people are in my inbox insisting that we're still at zero progress and it means nothing, and lemme tell you, I am Tired of it. Come on. You don't have to jump up and down (my own feeling is glee and vindication but still not relaxation, I will not relax until he loses the fucking election and goes to jail), but you also don't need to keep myopically pretending that all the effort thus far by so many people means nothing. Come on.

[mr-ribbit]

something fascinating to me about egg discourse is how often tme people Also joke about or question their friends potential to be trans, and it's literally never talked about like this.

my cis and tme nb friends routinely joke about celebrities or characters that have big "nonbinary energy" or who otherwise exhibit behavior we would associate with ourselves. i have tme friends and acquaintances who have approached me or my wife and straightforwardly said "something seems trans about you, have I asked for your pronouns recently?"

similar friends have even talked about other still-cis friends in our circle this way, or joked about "when are you going to transition like the rest of us?" or "yeah cis people are a minority in this group, just give it time" or "no wonder you have queer friends with how comfortable with being gnc you are" or etc etc examples like that

even the actual examples of people in my life that I can think of as being the most "invasive" or presumptive about gender have been tme people:

it was my cishet friends who outed me and my wife as trans to everyone at their wedding, including their boomer parents and hundreds of strangers, and called it "the most queer wedding party ever"

it was my tme nb friend who kept saying they could "always tell" her transfem cousin was trans before she came out, and then proceeded to randomly give us extremely personal details about her bottom surgery

it was my transmasc friend who refused to call me and my wife anything other than "little enby beans" after we met and introduced us with our full genders+sexuality labels to every single person one by one at a party

it was my transmasc nb friend who kept insisting my wife could "still be nonbinary" when she was first considering identifying as a trans woman instead, and it was THAT idea that actually slowed her down from making changes to her life that she wanted

it was my cis friends who approached me arm and arm and cornered my outside of a bathroom at a party right after I took a piss to suddenly ask me what my pronouns were because they "heard something" at the party

like, transfems deserve robust support against this trash so a lot of our defensive discourse has ofc been about how it IS okay for transfems to talk about eggs and be jokey about it and non-invasively approach others about being trans

but i swear to god none of these weird people have even stopped to make their discourse ABOUT anyone BUT transfems. it's so clearly targeted!!

no one has EVER approached *me* as a tme nb person and suggested i was pressuring gnc people with my egg jokes. never. nothing even remotely similar. i joke about other people being trans all the time and no one has ever treated me the way you all are treating transfems over this issue.

important note: my examples are all things I recall as being invasive and awkward, and I'm sharing them to make a point about how often rude behavior comes from the same tme people pointing fingers over this. but I still don't think any of them are worth the crucifixion people are treating transfem egg discourse with.

even when my friends were weird to me in the above examples, my reaction was either to confront them about it as friends who I trust to be able to communicate with, or to cut those individuals off after they proved not worth a relationship in the long run. at no time did I desire to make a call-out post or spread rumors about them or publicly declare all of their gender as a screeching menace to society.

my point here is that even when I do think about moments where others crossed a line, acting like this is a "issue trans women have" is blatantly transmisogynistic garbage that only exists to serve the woman-hating machine at the heart of our society. fucking cut it out

[imaginaryf1shots]

Shattered | Lewis Hamilton

WC: 7K

Lewis x reader

Summery:(REQUESTED) You and Lewis have been in a long term relationship, he's on a triple header and you decide to surprise him only to walk in on him in bed with your childhood friend, more over you're pregnant with his baby.

Warning: cheating, cursing, pregnancy, miscarriage, blood, drugs, Sorry to all Carlas out there, but I just generated a name

A.N: This is longer that I was anticipating but it needed to be long.

Masterlist

You have been with Lewis for years, five years to be exact. Enough time for him to be integrated into your friend group. You usually try to travel with him as much as you can, but sometimes due to work commitments it’s hard for you to follow him. Saving your days off for the important races and his days off so you could relax together. One of your friends, Carla, was in between jobs at one point but wasn’t able to find anything. So Lewis being the man he is, offered her a spot in his team, and so Carla has been travelling with him a lot since then.

So she was the person you went to when you wanted to surprise Lewis, he was not expecting you this weekend at all, and you managed to get time off to see him. It’s been 2 weeks since you saw each other and you were itching to go see him.

Your heart fluttered with excitement and anticipation as you approached the hotel door, after 2 weeks of separation, you couldn’t wait to be in Lewis’s arms again. You smile to yourself, relishing the surprise you planned for him. Slipping the keycard into the lock, you push the door open, your anticipation building with each passing second.

The last thing you thought would happen, happened. The sight that greeted you inside shattered all your hopes and dreams in an instant. The smile wiped from your face, just like that.

There, on the bed, lay Lewis,your partner of five years, his eyes unfocused and distant. And straddling him, with a look of brazen disregard, was Carla, your childhood friend, her confidante, her sister in all but blood. But there was nothing familiar about the way she straddled Lewis, her movements possessive and predatory.

Your mind reeled, unable to process the surreal things unfolding before you. You watched in stunned disbelief as Carla leaned in close to Lewis, her lips brushing against his ear in whispered intimacy. But there was no warmth in the embrace, no tenderness in the caress. Lewis seemed so drunk he showed no reaction to what’s happening around him. The shock was like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs and leaving you reeling in disbelief. This couldn't be happening. Not to you. Not with the two people you trusted most in the world.

"Carla- Lewis." The words caught in your throat, your voice a mere whisper against the oppressive silence of the room.

"y/n..." Carla's voice cut through the suffocating silence, but there was no remorse in her tone, only a chilling indifference. "I didn't expect you so soon."

Your mind raced as you tried to make sense of the betrayal unfolding in front of you. Lewis wouldn't do this to you, and neither would Carla. But as you looked into their eyes, Lewis's vacant and Carla's calculating ones, you knew the truth. They had betrayed you, and they had done it knowingly.

A surge of anger and hurt threatened to overwhelm you.

“C-Carla, why are you- on t-top of Lewis like that?” You asked, voice trembling with anger and betrayal but most of all hurt.

“It's not what you think, y-y/n. Lewis wasn't feeling well, so I was just... helping him.” Carla tried to reason, she’s no longer on top of Lewis, she picked up his shirt that you bought for him and slipped it on.

“Helping him?” You scoffed, your eyes flashing with fury. “Cut the crap! Lewis, what the hell are you doing with her?”

“y/n, please, let me explain.” Carla pleaded with you and you shook your head.

“Explain? Explain what, Carla? That you're on top of my boyfriend?” This is all too much, even with her words, and her pleading with you, it all sounded fake. She’s not sorry and there’s no explanation to this, she knew what she was doing.

“Y/n? B-baby? What are you doing h-here?” Lewis sounded so out of it, shit drunk for sure. Lewis isn’t the type to drink a lot. You can remember all the times he was so drunk he was out of it, it’s so not like him. But it’s also not like Carla to be naked on top of your naked boyfriend.

“Fucking herll, I trusted you, i trusted you both.” Tears of betrayal well up in your eyes. “The girl I considered my sister and the man I love more than anything in my life, how could you? Honestly, how could you?”

Carla stutters and Lewis tried to move but he couldn’t even support his own weight, leaving you to scoff, and strom out of the room, as you fled down the hallway, tears stream down your face, your heart shattering into a million irreparable pieces by the two people you trusted most.

“y/n!” A familiar voice calls your name, on instinct you stop and turn, only to see Sebastian there, you have no idea what the former F1 driver is doing here but seeing him made you cry more. Seb was there when your relationship started with Lewis, he’s seen it all. “What happened? Do you want me to find Lewis for you?”

“No, I don’t want to see that asshole again in my life.” You spit out, Seb frowns at your words, but he says nothing. He just pulls you in his arms and hugs you.

“It’s okay, darling, it’s okay.” Seb tries to comfort you, but you shake your head no.

“It’s not okay, Seb, and it never will be.” You pull back, wiping your tears away. “You should go check on him, so he wouldn’t choke on his spit… or leave him, what do I care.”

“Are you sure?” Sebastian wasn’t sure about leaving you in this state, he’ll have a word with Lewis about whatever he’s done to leave you like that. He’s never seen you like this.

“Yes, I’m catching the next flight home.” You tell him and manage the smallest smile known to mankind, before you turn and leave. This time keeping your head down so you wouldn’t be seen or stopped again.

You take a taxi to the airport, your crying started once you were in the back of the car, feeling as your body went through the heartbreak, your world felt like it was collapsing around you. The weather seats of the car felt cold against your trembling body, and each bump in the road sent jolts of pain shooting through your already shattered heart.

The city passed by in a blur outside the window, the lights and sounds of the streets blending together into an indistinct haze. But inside the taxi, you were enveloped in a suffocating silence, broken only by the occasional sniffle as tears streamed down your cheeks.

Your emotional pain had morphed into something physical, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. Every breath felt like a struggle, as if the air itself had turned thick and heavy with your sorrow.

The ache in your chest radiated outwards, spreading through your body like wildfire. It felt as though your heart had been torn from your chest, leaving behind a raw, gaping wound that throbbed with every beat.

You hugged your arms tightly around yourself, as if trying to hold the pieces of your shattered heart together. But no amount of physical embrace could ease the agony that consumed you from within.

Unbeknownst to you, your body harbored another source of pain. A life growing within you, fragile and unsuspected until now.

The physical toll of your distress began to manifest, a dull ache in your abdomen gradually intensifying into sharp, stabbing pains. Clutching your stomach, you doubled over, gasping for breath as waves of agony washed over you.

The taxi driver who was aware of your tears noticed the change in you, he noticed your distress, concern etched on his face as he glanced back at you through the rearview mirror.

"Ma'am, are you okay? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?"

Your head spun with a whirlwind of emotions, confusion mingling with the searing pain radiating from your abdomen.

“P-Please… the hospital.” You manage to say through the haze and agony, your voice barely a whisper.

With a sense of urgency, the taxi driver changed course, steering the vehicle towards the nearest hospital. You clung to consciousness by a thread, your breaths shallow and ragged, each movement sending fresh waves of pain coursing through your body.

As the taxi screeched to a halt in front of the hospital's emergency entrance, you were helped out of the car by the concerned driver. Every step you took felt like an eternity, the pain in your abdomen intensifying with each passing moment.

Inside the hospital, you were rushed to the emergency room, where doctors and nurses worked quickly to assess your condition.

The fluorescent lights casting a harsh glare over the stark white walls. Nurses bustled around you, hooking you up to monitors and taking your vital signs, their movements a blur in your pain-addled mind.

You lay on the hospital bed, your body wracked with waves of agony that seemed to consume your whole being. You clutched your abdomen, the source of your torment, with trembling hands, each heartbeat sending fresh spikes of pain coursing through you.

A doctor entered the room, his expression grave as he approached your bedside. His voice was calm but tinged with concern as he addressed you.

"Miss, I'm Dr. Patel. We've run some tests, and I'm afraid I have some news for you."

Your heart hammered in your chest as you looked up at the doctor, your eyes filled with fear and apprehension.

"What is it, doctor? What's wrong with me?" You whispered, your voice barely audible over the sounds of the hospital.

Dr. Patel hesitated for a moment, his gaze sympathetic as he delivered the news that would shatter your world once more, you thought that what happened earlier is the worst thing that could ever happen to you. And you’re about to be proven wrong. You haven’t reached reached your lowest point yet.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, Miss, but it appears that you were pregnant. Unfortunately, it seems you are experiencing a miscarriage."

Your world spun out of control at the doctor’s words, your mind reeling with shock and disbelief. Pregnant? Miscarraige? You couldn't wrap your head around the enormity of what the doctor was telling you.

“I-I I was pregnant?” You whispered, your voice choking with emotion. Dr. Patel nodded solemnly.

"Yes, it seems that way. I'm truly sorry for your loss."

Tears streamed sown your face as the weight of the doctor’s words settled over you like a suffocating blanket. You had been carrying a life with you, unaware until now, unaware until it was all too late, until it was taken from you.

Alone in the hospital room, with only the sterile walls for company, you grieved for the child you had never known, your heart breaking with a pain that transcended words. And as you lay there, lost in her anguish, you knew that your life would never be the same again.

Seb's heart pounded with a mixture of anger and concern as he stormed down the hotel corridor towards Lewis's room. The state he saw in you fuelled his determination to confront his friend.

Reaching the door, Seb banged on it with force, the sound reverberating through the hallway. He heard shuffling inside before the door swung open to reveal a dishevelled Lewis and a startled Carla.

"What the hell is going on here?" Seb's voice thundered, his anger barely contained.

Carla stumbled over her words, attempting to offer an explanation, but Seb silenced her with a stern glare. His attention shifted to Lewis, disappointment etched deeply into his features.

"Lewis, how could you?" Seb's voice cracked with emotion, his disbelief palpable. "With Carla, of all people?"

Lewis blinked, his expression a mixture of confusion and alarm. "Seb, I- I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

“Don’t play dumb, Lewis, I just saw y/n.” Seb's frustration surged as he realised Lewis's confusion. “She was in tears over you.”

Carla, sensing the escalating tension, made a hasty exit, leaving Seb alone with Lewis. The weight of disappointment hung heavy in the air as Seb struggled to comprehend what had happened.

"Lewis, something's not right here," Seb said, his voice softening slightly as he studied his friend's bewildered expression. "You seem... out of it."

Lewis shook his head, his memory foggy and fragmented. "I don't know what's happening, Seb. Everything's a blur."

Seb's concern deepened as he realised the severity of the situation. With a sense of urgency, he dialled the only number he had of Lewis’s team, relaying the state he’s in. Even though he’s more coherent now from when you were here, he was still out of it. Stumbling a little, his pupils blown wide, his words sluggish and he’s stuttering.

Minutes later, a medical team arrived at the hotel room, their professional demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos within. They quickly assessed Lewis's condition, taking blood samples and running tests while Seb watched on, his worry mounting with each passing moment. They have to make sure he’s okay to race the next day.

As Lewis began to regain consciousness, the pieces of the puzzle slowly started to fall into place. Seb breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that his friend was going to be okay.

"What... what happened?" Lewis mumbled, his gaze darting around the room in confusion.

Seb sighed, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on his shoulders. "We'll figure it out, Lewis. But for now, let's focus on getting you the help you need."

Sebastian had a theory but until it’s confirmed he’ll just keep it to himself.

Lewis trudged up the familiar path to your shared home, his heart heavy with a sense of dread. The events of the past few days had left him reeling, his mind still struggling to make sense of the chaos that had engulfed his life.

As he reached the front door, he hesitated for a moment, steeling himself for what lay beyond. With a shaky hand, he inserted the key and turned the lock, the door swinging open with a creak that echoed through the empty hallway.

The emptiness of the house hit Lewis like a physical blow, the silence oppressive and suffocating. He stepped inside, the weight of his solitude bearing down on him with each echoing footstep.

The living room was barren, devoid of the warmth and familiarity that once filled the space. Lewis's gaze swept over the room, searching for any trace of the life he had known, but found only echoes of the past.

His heart sank as he realised that your belongings were gone, your absence a gaping void in your once shared home. The realisation hit him like a punch to the gut, the ache of loss settling deep in his chest.

With trembling hands, Lewis reached for his phone, his fingers fumbling as he scrolled through his contacts. But when he tried to call you, he was met with nothing but silence, just like it has been since that day, the realisation crashing down on him like a tidal wave.

You had blocked him on everything.

The weight of your absence pressed down on Lewis with crushing force, his breaths coming in shallow gasps as he struggled to hold back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He felt lost, adrift in a sea of loneliness and regret.

How had it all gone so wrong? How had he allowed himself to stray so far from the love that had once anchored him?

With a heavy heart, Lewis sank onto the couch, his head in his hands as he surrendered to the overwhelming tide of despair. In the silence of their empty home, he grappled with the harsh reality of his mistakes, the mistakes he has no memory of, mistakes that he’d never do, longing for a chance to make things right, even as he feared it might already be too late.

Lewis sat alone in your once vibrant home, the air heavy with an oppressive silence that mirrored the emptiness in his heart. He had spent days in a haze of despair. His attempts to reach out to you were met with a resounding silence, leaving him to grapple with his own sense of remorse and longing.

As he sat listlessly on the couch, the shrill ring of his phone shattered the quietude of the room. With a heavy sigh, Lewis reached for the device, his fingers trembling as he answered the call.

"Hello?" His voice was hoarse with exhaustion, his eyes fixed on a distant point in the room.

The voice on the other end was unfamiliar, belonging to a friend of yours, someone Lewis hadn't spoken to in months. The words that followed pierced through the heavy fog of his mind, jolting him into stark awareness.

"Lewis." the voice began, its tone laced with sorrow. “I hate to be the one telling you this, and y/n would hate me for telling you.”

“What’s wrong?” Lewis is instantly filled with a sense of dread and fear as his mind realed trying to come up with reasons why your friend was calling him.

"I'm so sorry to have to tell you this on the phone, but y/n, she was pregnant.”

Lewis’s mind only heard and registered pregnant at first. “Pregnant?” And then he realsied the tense your friend was using. “Was? What do you mean was?”

Silence.

“She lost the baby."

Lewis felt as though the ground had fallen out from beneath him, his heart plummeting into despair. The weight of the revelation crushed him, leaving him gasping for breath as he struggled to comprehend the enormity of the loss.

A baby. Their baby. The child you had never known, taken from you before you even had a chance to hold it in your arms. The realisation sent shockwaves of grief coursing through Lewis's veins, his mind reeling with a cacophony of emotions.

"Why... why didn't she tell me?" Lewis's voice wavered with anguish, his heart splintering into a million fractured pieces. "How could she go through something like this alone?"

The friend on the other end of the line offered what comfort they could, their own voice trembling with empathy. “After everything that happened, she’s entitled to being alone Lewis, I just thought it’s best you know.”

In that moment of searing clarity, Lewis knew what he had to do.

He needed to see you. He needed to hold you in his arms and share in your grief, to let you know that you weren’t alone in your pain. He needed to face the consequences of his actions, whatever they may be.

With a heavy heart and a newfound sense of purpose, Lewis rose from his seat and made his way to the bedroom, his phone out already as he called for his jet to be ready in Nice. He’s going to find you, no matter what it took.

Lewis stood on your doorstep, his heart heavy with a mixture of apprehension and determination. He raised his hand to knock, but before his knuckles could make contact with the wood, the door swung open, revealing his tired and worn-down ex-girlfriend.

Your eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Lewis standing before you. The lines of exhaustion etched deep into your features softened briefly before hardening into a mask of cold indifference.

"Lewis." You said, your voice devoid of its usual warmth. "What are you doing here?"

Lewis swallowed hard, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him as he met your gaze. "Love, we need to talk."

A flicker of anger flashed in your eyes, but you remained silent, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as if to shield yourself from his presence. This leaves him doubting this more than ever.

"I know I messed up, but I need to make things right." Lewis said, his voice trembling with emotion. Your expression remained impassive, but Lewis could see the pain lurking beneath the surface, a reflection of his own turmoil.

"I'm tired of talking, Lewis." You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "You don't get to waltz back into my life after everything you’ve done."

Lewis felt a pang of guilt twist in his chest at your words, the weight of his actions bearing down on him with crushing force. He had hoped for a chance to make amends, but your cold indifference left him doubting whether reconciliation was even possible, and rightfully so.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness." He replied, his voice tinged with desperation. "I just want to understand. About... about what happened."

Your eyes flashed with a mixture of grief and anger at the mention of the past, the pain etched plainly across your face. Lewis felt his heart ache at the sight of your suffering, knowing that he was the cause of it.

"Don't you dare talk to me about what happened." You spat, your voice trembling with emotion. "You don't get to pretend like you care after what you did."

Lewis recoiled as if struck, the force of your words driving the breath from his lungs. He felt a lump form in his throat, the weight of his mistakes threatening to suffocate him.

"I made a mistake, love, and I remember nothing, I was so out of it." He whispered, his voice thick with remorse. "But I never wanted to hurt you. I love you, and I'm sorry."

For a moment, the anger in your eyes softened, replaced by a flicker of vulnerability. But it was fleeting, overshadowed once again by a steely resolve.

"I can't do this, Lewis," you said, your voice barely a whisper.

Lewis's voice wavered with uncertainty as he broached the topic that weighed heavily on his mind. "Did you... Did you know about the child before it happened?"

Your eyes flickered with a mixture of pain and disbelief at his question, the raw emotions swirling beneath the surface like a tempest.

"Does it even matter now?" You retorted, your voice tinged with bitterness. "Knowing or not wouldn't change what happened."

Lewis's heart sank at your response, the weight of his own ignorance pressing down on him with suffocating force. He had hoped for some shred of understanding.

"I just... I want to be there for you." He pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion. "I want to help you through this, if you'll let me."

Your expression softened for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through the facade of cold indifference. But it was fleeting, replaced once again by a steely resolve.

"I can't do this, Lewis." You said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Not with you."

With a heavy heart, Lewis watched as you closed the door in his face, shutting him out from your life once again. He stood there for a moment, the weight of your rejection crushing him under its unbearable burden.

As he turned and walked away, the echoes of your shattered love lingered in the air, a haunting reminder of what could have been.

Lewis returned to your doorstep every day since, with you refusing to open the door and speak to him. His nights are long and sleepless, as he tries to deal with the turmoil inside of him, he lost you and he lost his child all in one day. It all happened when he was drunk, when he was so out of it he can’t even remember it right now. He knew that he had to try, to lay bare his soul and beg for the forgiveness he so desperately wanted. Needed.

And so once more and with a deep breath, he raised his hand to knock, his knuckles rapping softly against the wood. Finally, after six days of trying the door opened, Lewis was met with your tired gaze, your eyes betraying a mixture of weariness and guarded apprehension. He felt his resolve waver for a moment, the weight of your silent scrutiny pressing down on him like a leaden weight.

"y/n." He began, his voice trembling with emotion. "Please, I need to talk to you."

You regarded him with a wary expression, but remained silent, and so he continued. "I know I've made mistakes, love, believe me I do." Lewis confessed, his voice raw with emotion. "I've hurt you in ways I never intended, and I can't even begin to express how sorry I am for that."

Your eyes softened slightly at his words, a flicker of vulnerability shining through the mask of indifference. But before you could respond, Lewis pressed on, his desperation driving him forward.

"I can't change the past." He admitted, his voice thick with regret. "But I can promise you this, I'll do whatever it takes to make things right. I'll be there for you, through every moment of pain and loss. Please, just give me a chance to prove myself to you."

Tears welled in your eyes at his heartfelt plea, his words striking a chord deep within your wounded heart. Part of you yearned to forgive him, to let him back into your life and embrace the hope of a second chance. But the scars he had left behind were still tender, the pain still fresh and raw.

"I don't know if I can." You whispered.

Lewis felt a pang of despair grip his heart at your words, the fear of losing you forever threatening to overwhelm him. But he refused to give up, his love for you driving him to keep fighting. He’s never given up when it came to racing, and he’s certainly not going to give up now.

"I understand," he said, his voice filled with determination. "But please, just think about it. I'll be waiting for you, for as long as it takes."

With one final pleading look, Lewis turned and walked away.

After weeks of silence and contemplation, you finally made the decision to unblock Lewis and reach out to him. You’ve seen the races, you’ve seen the interviews, Lewis is a man broken, under his eyes have grown darker, he no longer smiles or jokes around. For the first time in his career, racing has become just a job for him.

And so, with a heavy heart and a sense of trepidation, you sent him a text, informing him of your upcoming visit to Monaco and your intention to meet and talk things through. You had some business there you had to take care of, and that was the final push, that maybe you should sit down and talk everything through, not to get back together but maybe to just start moving on, maybe and just maybe become friends and nothing more. You lived with the motion that once a cheater, always a cheater.

You ring the bell to your-Lewis’s house and wait for him to open the door, even though your keychain holds the key that will let you in. This place you once called home. Memories flood your mind as you stand at the front door, a mixture of nostalgia and pain gripping your heart. You take a deep breath and knock. Moments later, the door opens to reveal Lewis, looking worn out and deeply regretful. His eyes soften at the sight of you and there’s hope in them. You’re about to crush that hope and despite everything you hate that you will, and you hate yourself even more for still caring about him even for a bit.

“Come in.” He says quietly, stepping aside to let you pass.

You walk inside, the familiar scent of his cologne mingling with the faint aroma of the diffuser you always had dotted around the house. The house is tidy, but there’s an unmistakable air of emptiness, it's void of all your little things that you took with you when you left. You sit down on the couch, feeling a strange mix of comfort and tension.

Lewis sits across from you, his hands clasped together, knuckles white. The silence between you is heavy, each second feeling like an eternity.

“You wanted to talk.” You begin, your voice trembling slightly.

He nods, swallowing hard. “I’m so sorry for everything. I... I didn’t know how to reach you, how to make things right.”

“I don't know if you ever could.” Tears well up in your eyes as you look at him. “Seeing you with her... it broke me, Lewis. I trusted both of you. And then... losing the baby...” Your voice breaks, and you cover your mouth, trying to stifle a sob. Lewis’s eyes fill with tears as he reaches out but stops himself, unsure if his touch would be welcome.

“I didn’t know,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “I swear I didn’t know what was happening. I don't even remember drinking, but my mind went blank, I would never...”

You nod, struggling to hold back the flood of emotions. “I believe you. But it doesn’t make the pain any less real.”

“I never wanted to hurt you.” He leans forward, his eyes pleading. “I can’t imagine the pain you’ve been through.”

“You don’t have to imagine.” You reply, your voice tinged with bitterness. “It’s real, and it’s here. Every single day.”

Lewis looks down, shame and regret etched into his features. “If I could take it all back, I would. I’d do anything to make this right.”

“I know. And I’m trying to understand, to forgive, the 5 years we spent together aren't so easy to flush down the drain.” You sigh, feeling the weight of his words. “But it’s so hard, Lewis. Losing our baby... it feels like the universe is p-punishing me.”

“It’s not your fault.” He says softly, his eyes filling with tears. “None of this is your fault. I was careless, I let my guard down. I should have protected you, protected us.” Lewis wipes away a tear, his voice trembling, seeing the man you loved for so long cry, made your own eyes fill with tears. He betrayed you but you still both lost your child before you even knew they existed. “I miss you. I miss us. I want to be there for you, to help you heal. If you’ll let me, just af friends .”

Instinctively, you both move closer, seeking solace in each other’s presence. Lewis reaches out and gently takes your hand, his touch tentative yet filled with a desperate need to comfort you.

“I don’t know if I can ever forget what happened.” You admit, your voice barely a whisper.

“You don’t have to.” He replies, his grip on your hand tightening. “But we can try to move forward, we can try to start coping. Together.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the depth of his sorrow and love. In that moment, you realise that despite everything, the bond between you is still there, it has weakened but it's still there.

“Do you really think we can get through this?” You ask, a hint of hope in your voice.

“I do.” Lewis says earnestly. “It won’t be easy, but I believe in us. I believe in you.”

Tears stream down your face as you lean into each other, your foreheads touching. The hug is a mix of comfort, sorrow, and the lingering love you still feel. You hold each other tightly, finding a fragile sense of solace in your shared grief and determination to heal. The journey ahead is uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, you feel a glimmer of hope.

Someone knocks on the front door, you break apart and Lewis goes to answer the door while you wipe your tears away.

”What are you doing here?” You hear Lewis say, and just as you stood up to go see who it is, Carla comes into the living room. You weren’t expecting her at all, unlike Lewis Carla hasn’t tried to reach out to you in any way. She has even spread some false information about you in your friend group. Carla storms in, her face twisted with anger and jealousy.

“What the hell is this?” she shouts, her eyes wild. “How can you forgive him after everything?”

“Carla, what are you doing here?”

”Me? What are you doing here? You’re just going to forgive him?” She ignores your question, her anger escalating.

“What happens between us is none of your business.” You tell her getting angry yourself, you weren’t about to give her the satisfaction of knowing that you haven’t forgiven Lewis and you were merely trying to deal with the grief of losing your child.

“After everything I’ve done to break you two up, I could go to jail!” Her words hang in the air, a shocking revelation that leaves you both speechless. Realising what she’s just admitted, Carla’s face pales, and she tries to backtrack. “I didn’t mean that,” she stammers, but it’s too late. The truth is out.

“What did you just say?” Lewis asks, his eyes narrowing.

Carla’s eyes dart around the room, desperate for an escape. “You heard me wrong. I was just angry. I didn’t mean it.”

“Did you plan everything? Did you mean to break us up? Is that it?” Your anger is boiling over.

“He was supposed to be mine! You were always in the way! You don’t deserve him!” Carla’s face contorted with rage.

Lewis steps between you and Carla, his voice steady but filled with fury. “Get out of my house, Carla. Now.”

“You’re just going to throw me out? After everything I did for you?” Carla’s eyes flash with defiance.

“Everything you did for me?” Lewis scoffs. “You tried to destroy my life, my relationship. You’re the reason we lost our baby!”

“I... I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” Carla takes a step back, realising the gravity of her actions. She may have wanted to break you up, but she didn’t know about your baby’s, and she didn’t want you to lose them anyways.

“You need to leave,” you say, your voice shaking with emotion. “You’ve done enough damage.”

Carla glares at you one last time before turning and storming out, slamming the door behind her. The house is silent for a moment, as you try to process everything that just happened.

”What did she mean after everything I’ve done and the jail thing?” You ask Lewis hoping he had any clue on what Carla was talking about.

”I-I’m not sure.”

”Did anything happen before or after…that night?” You ask him, hugging yourself, Lewis once more stops himself from pulling you closer into his arms.

”I don’t know, I was sick the whole night, almost didn’t race the next day.” Lewis remembers the weird sickness he had, it came out of nowhere. “Wait, Sebastian was there.”

”Seb? He actually went to your room?” You asked, knowing Seb of course he did what you said.

”Yeah, I’ll give him a call.” Lewis grabs his phone and calls Seb, recounting Carla’s outburst. Seb who was already suspicious, reinforces the need to follow up on the blood tests.

“We’ll get to the bottom of this.” Seb assures. “Hang tight, and I’ll push the lab to rush the results.”

Apparently since Lewis was alright the day after, they haven’t paid his lap results any mind, but once Seb called them they rushed in sending the results.

“Lewis, I-I have the results,” Seb says, his voice grave. You already have a feeling about what he will say.

“What did they find?” he asks, his heart pounding.

“There were traces of a sedative in your blood. It’s a strong one, often used in cases of severe anxiety or insomnia, but in high doses, it can knock someone out cold,” Seb explains.

A wave of relief and anger washes over you simultaneously. “So, it’s true,” you say, your voice trembling. “Carla really did drug you.”

”I’m afraid so.” Seb said and there was a moment of silence. “I’ll let you guys absorb this, and I’ll call you later.”

”Alright, thank you Seb.”

The confirmation that Lewis was drugged shifts the dynamics entirely. You and Lewis sit in silence, absorbing the magnitude of what has just happened.

Lewis leans back, closing his eyes as he processes the information. “I can’t believe she would do something like this. I trusted her. We both did.”

“She manipulated the situation. But now we know the truth.” You reach out, taking his hand.

“I feel so violated, so helpless. I hate that she did this to us, to you.” He squeezes your hand, tears welling up in his eyes. He wasn’t just drugged and taken advantage of, his relationship was ruined and he lost his child in the process.

“I hate it too.” you admit, your voice cracking. “But at least we have proof now. We can start to heal.”

Lewis pulls you into a tight embrace, his body shaking with emotion. “I’m so sorry for everything. I should have seen the signs. I should have protected you.”

“We couldn’t have known. She was our friend, or at least we thought she was. But we’re still here, and we can get through this together.” You hold him close, your own tears mingling with his.

The emotional weight of the past weeks begins to lift as you find solace in each other’s arms. There’s a renewed sense of unity and strength, knowing that the truth is out and that you can begin to move forward. Knowing that Lewis didn’t cheat left you with a sense of relief, you’re not alone.

“We need to press charges.” You say once you both have calmed down. “She can’t get away with this.”

“You’re right. She can’t get away with this.” Lewis nods, his face set with determination. And he does call his lawyers and told them what happened, they have told him what to do next. A call to the police was made and that set everything in motion, Carla wasn’t getting away with it.

It's been a few weeks since the confrontation with Carla and the revelation that Lewis was drugged. The legal process against her is ongoing, and while justice is on the horizon, the emotional scars remain. You and Lewis have reconciled, but the path to healing is long and filled with pain. The loss of your child is something that still haunt you and will continue to do for a very long time.

You wake up in Lewis's arms, the morning light filtering through the curtains. It's a Saturday, and for the first time in a while, there's no pressing urgency—no lawyers to meet, no police interviews to give, no races to go to, no meetings and no work. Just the two of you, trying to find some semblance of normalcy.

Lewis stirs and looks at you, his eyes soft but weary. "Good morning," he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Morning," you reply, managing a small smile. The simple act of waking up together feels both comforting and bittersweet.

The day unfolds slowly. You make breakfast together, an unspoken effort to reclaim a sense of routine. The kitchen fills with the aroma of coffee and pancakes, a small comfort amid the lingering sadness.

As you sit down to eat, an awkward silence settles between you. Finally, Lewis breaks it. "How are you feeling today?"

You take a deep breath, contemplating your words. "Some days are better than others. Today... I'm not sure yet."

"I miss the baby too. We may have not known them but I miss them so much." He nods, understanding, he says softly, his voice tinged with unexplainable pain. "Every day."

Tears well up in your eyes, and you reach across the table to take his hand. "I know. It's hard to move on, to find a way forward."

"We don't have to rush," Lewis reassures you. "We can take it one day at a time."

After that you found yourselves, both seeking solace in small, intimate moments. Taking long walks in the park, sitting quietly on the couch reading, holding each other during sleepless nights. These moments become the fragile threads that begin to weave your relationship back together. One evening, as you sit together watching the sunset, Lewis turns to you, his expression serious.

"I've been thinking... maybe we should see a therapist. Together. To help us process everything."

"I think that's a good idea. We need to talk about the baby, and about us, and just everything we’ve been through." You consider his suggestion.

And so you start attending therapy sessions together. The first few sessions are difficult, filled with raw emotion and unspoken fears. But slowly, you begin to open up, sharing your deepest pain and hopes for the future.

"Grieving the loss of a child is incredibly personal and complex." The therapist explains. "It's important to allow yourselves to feel the pain, but also to support each other through it."

It took time, and you’re still not back to how it was before. Perhaps you never will, but you’re learning to communicate more openly, to lean on each other in moments of weakness. The road is still long, but each step forward feels like a small victory.

One night, as you lie in bed, Lewis holds you close. "We'll get through this," he murmurs. "I believe in us."

You nod, feeling a glimmer of hope. "I believe in us too. We just have to keep moving forward, one step at a time."

Months pass, and while the pain of losing your child never fully fades, you begin to find new ways to honour their memory. You plant a small garden in the backyard of your home in the UK, a place of peace and reflection.

Your relationship with Lewis continues to strengthen, built on a foundation of shared grief and newfound resilience. There are still difficult days, but you face them together, hand in hand.

You find yourselves always there, whenever you’re in the UK and one sunny afternoon, as you sit in the garden, Lewis takes your hand and looks into your eyes. "I know we'll never forget our baby, but I want us to keep dreaming, to keep hoping. Maybe one day... we can try again."

Tears fill your eyes, but this time they're a mix of sadness and hope. "I want that too," you say, squeezing his hand. "I want us to keep moving forward, to find happiness again."

As you sit together, surrounded by the blossoming flowers, you realise that while the road to healing is long, you're not walking it alone. Together, you're finding a way forward, one step at a time, building a new future from the ashes of the past.

A.N: i don't write cheating, but I felt i can write the request and add ny spin on it

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3

[acotarxreader]

Other Worlds

Azriel x reader

Synopsis: Nesta accidentally pulls you from our realm into theirs and a certain Spymaster can't help but be enamoured.

Original Request: "So I was wondering if you could do like Reader is from the modern world but ends up in the ACOTAR world, and ends up like falling in love with one of batboys."

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of cuts from a fall, my silly wordplay

A/N: I loved writing this, it really had me in my silly sense of humor (at one point Azriel is jealous because he thinks Xanax is a person) and just like also so happy to have written my first request! I hope you like it Anon and tolerate my silliness.

------------------------------------------------------------------

“Do you think she’s dead?”

“Hard to say, you fall that height and would expect it” Nesta gently rocked the body back and forth with the sole of her shoe and you groaned.

“This is exactly why you shouldn’t practice without Amren Nesta” Feyre bit out.

“And how was I supposed to know that a human would fall out of the sky? And besides, I did catch her before she hit the ground” Feyre gave a huff to her sister’s bored tone. 

“But not before all the trees Nesta”

“Details, details”

“Rhys is gonna kill you, we have to move her before he finds out” Feyre got level with your marbling body, sticks and leaves sticking out of your hair from your fall through the canopy above. Nesta folded her arms across her chest in protest as Feyre rolled you onto your back, a deep whimper escaping your throat.

“Well she’s not dead”

“For now” Nesta raised an amused eyebrow before rolling her eyes and squatting to lift your feet as Feyre caught your shoulders with her own disapproving look. 

“Her clothes are so odd, is it continent fashion?”

“Hard to say, the material on her legs is so…dense?” Nesta replied, a thumb rolling over the cuff of your jeans, your Doc Marten burying into her sternum.

The two sisters carried your weak body through the hillside towards the cabin they had retreated to for a break from the Illyrians. They reached the humble home after a small uphill climb in the Winter air and gently placed you down on the couch again. The two stood then at the foot of the couch, unsure of what to do next with their new house guest, a thud from outside followed by a swear interrupting their thoughts. 

“Shit it's Azriel with the food supplies you forgot”

“You forgot” Feyre returned

“Whatever, here help me cover her” The two sisters sheathed you in a thick woollen blanket as Azriel pushed through the door causing the females to shoot straight up, standing shoulder to shoulder to try to hide you behind them. 

“Hey, I dropped a bottle of liquor on the path sor- what are you two doing?” he looked suspiciously at the two, plopping the crate of food down by the mouth of the door. 

“Nothing!” their heads snapped to one another at the same time, cursing their simultaneous reply. 

“You two have the same look on your face that Cassian had when he was trying to hide the blood ruby he got from Summer Court after his experiment with arson” he gave a laugh that turned nervous when the females didn’t do the same, another almost panicked glance shared between them. 

“Well if that’s all Az, thanks for coming” Feyre made a quick movement to Azriel, catching his shoulders and turning him back towards the door, Nesta taking a wide stance to try to obscure more of you. 

“Fucking hell” your voice rattled out in pain as you pushed to sit up, the wool sinking down to your lap as your heavy hand found your bleeding head. Azriel’s eyes grew to nearly the width of his skull as he looked frantically between Nesta and Feyre. 

“She did it!” they said in unison again, pointing to one another. 

“Oh Rhys is going to kill you” he whispered angrily, moving to the couch as Nesta sidestepped, throwing an anxious look at Feyre.

“Whe-re the fuck a-m I? What happ-ened?” your hand traced through your thick hair, branches catching in the locks. You squeezed your eyes together tightly, trying to bring the cozy cabin into focus before swinging your legs to the ground and supporting your weight with one arm. Your movement went entirely still as you looked up to find the three members of the Night Court staring at you with matching bewilderment. 

“Am-am I dead?” Your stare landed on Azriel’s wings, conclusions forming quickly.

“No unfortunately not” Feyre elbowed Nesta into the ribs as Azriel analysed your whole figure with his hazel eyes, his shadows swirled around his feet until they wrapped around yours. Your shriek of pure terror caused them to dash back to their master. 

“You're okay!” Azriel tried but it was too late, you were in full panic mode, your system shutting down in utter distress until you felt your blood pressure hit the soles of your feet after hitting the ceiling, sending you into a loss of consciousness. 

“Nice going you big bat, you killed her” Azriel gave a dirty look towards Nesta, her eyes rolling for the thousandth time that day. 

“Send for Madja-”

“-Rhys will kill Nesta for this”

“Well I think her little magic trick will die without her” Feyre folded her arms into her chest, weighing up the options. 

“We could give her the tonic that's here, let her heal without everyone gawking at her at home. I’ll go back with Nesta and explain, by the time we’re here again perhaps she’ll be healed and Amren will be home from her travels and can send her back” 

“And am I supposed to play healer Feyre?”

“Well you have more experience with healing because of the battlefield than us and besides, Nesta isn’t known for her bedside manner” Azriel sighed before rubbing a hand across his face at Feyre’s logic, she showed him how you got here in his head to help her point.

“Okay fine, go but if she dies, I’m not to blame” They nodded in agreement, taking another look at your floppy body before heading for the door with their things, kicking the box of supplies out of the way. 

Azriel lifted your legs slowly back onto the couch before fetching a dish full of mountain water and healing tonic. He hovered the cloth over one of your large gashes that had cut straight through your straight-leg jeans. He looked over your body, unable to hide his curiosity towards the university logo decorating your sweatshirt, the deep purple colouring at the very ends of your hair as well as the multiple pieces of metal piercing through your ear's cartilage. Despite the series of cuts and bruises generously coating you, Azriel believed you might be the most beautiful creature he had ever seen and you were entirely out for the count. 

He sighed, dropping the cloth back into the dish and going to make tea with another healing concoction. He rolled his shoulders back and tucked his wings in as tight as possible to minimise their appearance before gently tapping your shoulder to bring you around. When that didn’t work, he fetched one of Cassian’s training boots and ran it beneath your nose, you stirred immediately. You went to shoot up in shock, his strong steady hand, gently pressing you back down. 

“You’re okay, you…you just fell but you’re okay.” he said as softly as possible, the ease of his voice unable to settle the rising worry across your face. 

“I-I fell?” he gave you a small nod, not entirely a lie he thought to himself. 

“Fucking hell my head-” you once again ran your hands down your face, the dry blood slightly flaking in the movement “-do you have any paracetamol or something?”

“Para-what-almol?” Azriel’s eyebrow raised in question before he reached for the tea he made for you from the small table behind him. You removed your hands from your face and looked towards the squatting Illyrian, taking in the beautiful male in front of you, pain being replaced by embarrassment. You pushed up despite his disapproval look, returning to the same position you were in before you fainted.

“Sorry, I should-I should go? Emm…where are we?” 

“This is Velaris”

“Velentia?! How did I get here?!” You shot to your feet in surprise, the blood rushing and sending you shakenly back to the soft fabric almost as quickly. 

“No, I’m not sure where that is but you’re not there, here take this” he passed the cup with a half laugh and you looked down unconvinced. 

“No thanks man, not here to be poisoned” Azriel scoffed in slight offense as he watched you wince to put it back on the small table. You look down at your freshly ripped jeans, your fingers tracing the fresh wounds. 

“I’m Azriel” His voice brought your eyes back to him as he passed you the soaked cloth, allowing you to run it over the gashes. 

“YN” You gave a small smile back, fighting the singe of the elixir. 

“YN? That’s an odd name”

“You say that as if there’s an Azriel at every petrol station in town” You half laugh, more questions entering Azriel’s head than answers. Azriel rose to his feet and headed into the kitchen with the abandoned groceries as you finished with your leg, starting on your forehead. 

“No paper here or something?” Azriel looked towards you as you took the cabin in in all its glory, Feyre’s artwork the object of your marvelling. 

“They’re Feyre’s, she was here earlier. She went a bit mad up here when she found out Rhysand was her mate”

“Mate? Oh she’s like Australian?”

“What? You speak in riddles” he laughed, joining your side on the couch with his own cup of tea. You looked at it with an air of hunger, not unnoticed by the Spymaster, he looked from the cup to your face. 

“You can drink it YN, it’s not poisoned, here look I’ll take a sip” You watched him take a taste before offering it back to you where you took it from him, its fresh floral taste having an almost reviving effect, you drank it almost one gulp. 

“Now, I’m afraid you can’t go home just y-”

“Fuck I knew it! What’s in this tea?! I’m being kidnapped!” You shot towards the door, almost knocking the dish of water all over the floor, sending Azriel swearing. You reached your exit and with a wave of his hand, Azriel locked it from the inside.

“YN, no one is going to hurt you, you just, this is going to be hard to explain, one of my…friends brought you here by accident” You still tried to pull on the knob of the door, glancing from it to Azriel as he stood to close the distance.

“Stay back! I know self-defence!” Azriel couldn’t hold his laugh at the small human girl before him threateningly looking at him. He went to catch your arm softly, only for you to send your heavy-booted Doc straight into his instep, followed by the base of your palm up and into his nose, the shock of your sudden movement catching him off guard. He groaned slightly reaching for his nose as it bled, missing your hand reaching for the keys in your pocket and the mace on the keychain. Azriel roared at the feeling of the spray of chemicals burning into his eyes, sending him onto the floor writhing in pain.

“Fuck! Fine! Die in the snow!” He shouted out, waving his hand and releasing the door. You hardly heard him, whipping the door back as the now night air lashed in near-freezing gails of icy snow. You fought the tornado of air as you put the oak door between you and it, sliding down the wood to the ground, your body screaming in pain still from the fall. Azriel sat up, still blinking hard to clear the burning liquid. 

“And you thought I’d be the one to use poison” A breathy laugh left him as his red eyes watered and you found yourself matching his smile.

“I promise I won’t kill you, if you don’t kill me” he gave you a genuine look and for some reason you felt such a wave of trust hit you. You agreed, too tired to run from him or face the snow and you rolled your head along the door before looking back at the Illyrian, tracing your eyes along his linen shirt and leather pants

“Are you in a motorbike gang or something?”

“Gods I hope you start making sense soon” he pushed up from the ground, doing his best to not untuck his wings for balance. You looked up at him and reluctantly took the hand he offered, noting the deep scaring covering them like burls on a tree. He followed your eyes to his hands before he gingerly took them back to replace them across his still-stinging eyes. Azriel threw himself back down on the couch and you followed suit.

“I’m sorry about the-” you gestured to your own eyes and he gave a small laugh.

“It’s okay, I’m impressed a human would have such speed, to be honest”

“Human? And what are you a fish?” 

“No” he didn’t return your laughing tone, only reaching for your disregarded cloth and placing it over his eyes. Your hand ran down the side of your jeans until you retrieved your phone, the screen fully destroyed from your dance with the trees. 

“Great” you sighed, throwing it down on the table, Azriel watching the action. 

“Nesta couldn’t save your mirror from the fall?”

“Nesta? Rhysand? Azriel? No one called like Dave around here?” 

“Not really the fashion in Prythian” he smiled.

“Prythian? Like from the children's stories?” you chuckled at him.

“No, Prythian like the realm” he tossed the cloth back into the dish, the red in his eyes subsiding. 

“My mom used to tell me stories about Prythian and these like great bat boy warriors with these really big-big-win…” you trailed off as you looked to see the shape of Azriel’s wings over his shoulder. 

“Really big? Well, thanks for the flattery” He laughed aloud as your face greyed. 

“Fuck, it’s happened, studying for my physics final has finally driven me insane, this is all in my head, a stress-induced dream” Azriel reached to your thigh and gave you a gentle pinch following your matter-of-fact speech, causing you to flinch a little.

“Okay so not a dream…”

“Not a dream, my brother’s lovely ma-wife’s sister, pulled you through a sort of rip in the realm and landed you here…not very carefully might I add” He said softly so as to not have you black out again, you nodded very very slowly to his words. You faced away from him, fixing your stare on the smashed phone, you thought of your physics lectures. The theories of tears in the fabric of time being possible, the possibility of alternative realities, the possibility of unexplored realms before settling finally that this wasn’t a possibility, this was a reality. 

“So, okay, right-” you bit your lip, working through the thought, Azriel trying to push the shiver down his spine away at that action “-okay cool, right, so I’m gonna need like an excuse note or something for the exam and then, right, cool, Xanax maybe”

“Is Xanax a friend of yours who can help?” Your head shot towards Azriel at his genuine question and you let a roar of laughter leave you. 

“Definitely although I don’t think they’re here somehow” you offered with a smirk, Azriel feeling a weird sense of jealousy at not being the object of this smile. 

“Well, we’ll make do and try to get you home” You nodded sheepishly to him.

“Do you not want to go home YN? You seemed pretty eager when you tried to break my nose earlier” he smiled and you gently knocked into his shoulder playfully. 

“I mean…I’m not in a rush to get back to the test” 

“Okay well, it will be a day or two before my friends are back and Rhys has calmed down over Nesta bringing you to greet us so you’ll have time. As for now, care to have something to eat? You can help me make it so we both know neither is trying to poison the other” he gave a light laugh while standing again, and you followed him along to the kitchen. 

For the rest of the night, the both of you spent your time cooking, laughing and teaching one another about your worlds. Azriel explained the Courts, his role and his family’s as well as giving a shortened version of their relationships with one another. In return, you told him about your studies, what Instagram was and how democracy works. Azriel wasn’t sure he’d ever felt such strong feelings towards someone he’d just met before and it confused him almost as much as what microwaves were. 

“Here you go, a glass of our best liquor, you deserve it” Azriel passed you the tumbler as you sat cross-legged on the couch beneath the woollen blanket you were previously hidden under.

“Oh slay”

“No, I didn’t kill anything to get this for you” You almost choked on the drink with the laugh that left you at his confused words. 

“No Azriel it’s like-actually maybe I’ll explain drag culture to you another day” He nodded eagerly at the prospect of learning more, sinking into the couch alongside you with his own drink. 

“So have you girlf-mate type person like Feyre and Rhys?”

“No, no girlf-mate type person-” he teased back and you sighed, clipping him with the pillow from under your elbow “-do you?”

“Nope, to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be missed from home, I lost my parents young and never really found my flock at college either” you shrugged. 

“How could anyone not miss you YN?”

“You have to say that, you’re my captor”

“Actually Nesta captured you, I’m just minding you-” You returned his smirk “-speaking of which, time for sleep, tomorrow they should be back to figuring getting you home for your exam” you whined like a misbehaving child but you’d been fighting off sleep since dinner so agreed with him.

He lead you to his room in the cabin before offering you one of his clean linen shirts and leaving you to sleep. You practically swam in the fabric, with no wings or Illyrian muscles to fill it out, feeling the same way about the colossal bed that you slipped into. You looked up at the ceiling where Feyre had painted delicate little consolations, the day washing over you, had all your prayers finally been answered? You smiled as you gave into the sleep that hunted you all day.

----------------------------------

“We are sending her back!”

“Amren can’t guarantee she’ll end up in her realm, she’s not going anywhere!” You wiped the sleep from your eyes, Azriel's blunt tone waking you from the best sleep of your life.

“She can’t stay here Az!”

“And what if she ends up somewhere a lot worse, she coul-oh YN you’re awake” You looked from the doorway between the two gorgeous Illyrians. 

“This is Rhysand”

“Oh, your majesty I suppose” you did a half bow after stepping closer to the males, a small laugh leaving Rhysand at the action. 

“Don’t flatter him YN”

“YN, flatter me if that would make you happy” he grinned, Azriel rolling his eyes. 

“You’re exactly as described” You shrugged at him, settling down on the couch between where the lllyrians stood

“I would like to apologies for Nesta’s…interuption to your day to day life and more so for…probably being all Nesta when you woke up” Rhysand offered, Azriel folding his arms tightly across his chest as he inspected you closely, you in his shirt may now be his favourite sight. Rhysand watched the slight change in his brothers demanour at your presence, this increasing his worry. 

“Now YN, it’s time we get you back to-”

“-I heard you guys say you can’t say for certain I’ll get home” you cut across Rhysand, his eyes darting back to you, Azriel trying to bury his smirk.

“I’m confident we know how to get you there”

“Okay cool, so Feyre will accompany me” 

“What?” Rhysand bit out.

“Well its just if you’re so sure you’ll get me in the right spot, surely you’ll have no issue allowing Feyre to accompany me yanno, since you’re confident” Azriel lost his battle in holding in his smirk. 

“She’s got you there Rhys, if one of us wouldn’t do it, why should she?”

“Because she doesn’t belong here” Rhysand chewed out, locking eyes with his brother.

“She is sitting right here and she isn’t going near any wormhole or whatever if you’re not sure I’d get there safe” You forced his attention back to your with your sharp words.

“Who said anything about worms?”

“YN has a habit of speaking in riddles” Azriel sat alongside you, giving you a somewhat proud smile, his arm instinctively resting on the back of the couch behind you. 

“YN, I’m sure you’re great but I can almost guarantee that our world is vastly different to yours, it’s a lot to take on for your mortal mind, perhaps we could arrange a home for you in the mortal realm?” you tilted your head side to side weighing up his offer before Azriel replied for you.

“I can teach her our ways, I can school her like you did Feyre” Rhysand sighed out but couldn’t deny the way Azriel looked at you and you at him was deeply familiar to him. 

“Fine, a week, you may stay a week and if it doesn’t work out then the mortal realm it is, we’ll set you up with a nice manor and you’ll live very comfortably”

“Like Downton Abbey?” you teased despite your audience.

“I’m not familiar with that region”

“Is that where the drag culture is?”

“Of sorts” you laughed at Azriel and his quizzical words, his hazel eyes so enamoured by the sight, further cementing Rhysand’s suspicions. Rhysand sighed deeply ensuring you agreed to the terms and to be taught by Azriel before he left to continue to reprimand Nesta. 

------------------------

Over the next week it became abundantly clear that despite being from two different realms, you and Azriel were made for one another. You both had the same humor and intelligence as well as thirst for knowledge. You continued to teach him about your home and he taught you about the new world around you and the more you learned the less you wanted to leave. On your first day in Velaris, you thought your heart may burst with the growing love for the place and even more so for your guide. 

“And then Cass completely blew the building up, I thought the vein was going to burst in Rhysand’s head” Azriel tilted his head back and laughed loudly while you both crossed the bridge of the Sidra, your last official day in the Night Court before you had to decide. Somewhere along the way, Azriel and your hands became interlocked and forgot to separate.

“You live such insane lives here”

“And you could too” he stopped you in your tracks, his eyes warming over your body as he looked down on you, the sinking sun reflecting off of the snow. 

“Maybe with less arson though” he added with a grin you loved so much. 

“Az, I’d love to stay but-”

“-No, just say ‘Az I’d love to stay’ and leave it there” he fought his faltering smile as you looked down at his shoes, both hands held in his now. 

“But Az-” you couldn’t find the end of the sentence, the words lost on Azriel’s lips as they met yours with such searing passion. His mouth slotted over yours with such a perfect fit it was like they were always meant to be there. You stood further on your toes to deepen the kiss as his hands traced around the nape of your neck and yours landed around his torse. You separated when the need for air almost matched the need to never let go. 

“I-I can’t remember the end of my last thought” you laughed lightly and he grinned. “So you’ll stay?”

“I don’t think I was ever going to be able to walk away from you…well not without mace anyways” you smiled back into another kiss, the second of many many more.

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Let Me Know What You Think Friend!?

Part Two

[aperrywilliams]

That Wasn't Fake (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Request: Can you write a Spencer fic where the reader is kind of quiet and shy when she begins working at the BAU, and Spencer has a crush on her, and then they have a case, and she has to like to seduce the unsub lowkey and everyone kind of like...how is she going to do this shes not very outgoing but when she does shes really good at it, and everyone is surprised and impressed.

Summary:  You're shy and reserved. Spencer has a crush on you, and unbeknown to him, you have a crush on him. Maybe the cat can get out of the bag when you have to step aside of your comfort zone to catch an elusive unsub.

Word Count: 4.2k (no self control here)

Warnings: Words like 'fuck' and 'bitch'. A rant about self-doubt. Typical CM stuff: unsubs, killings, etc.

A/N: Another request I loved! It should have been a little shorter, but I'm having a hard time getting to the point these days. Please keep sending requests!

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Spencer knows it is inappropriate, but he can't help it. You're coworkers, and that itself sets a boundary, so he shouldn't be thinking of trespassing.

But the crush he has on you seems to grow every day.

He doesn't know if it is your beautiful smile, the kindness you show in everything you do, or the enthusiasm you put into every task you are committed to. Since the moment he saw you pass the bullpen glass doors, Spencer knew he was damned.

From that moment, Spencer knew he wanted to know you and learn everything about you. About what you liked, what you hated, and what your fears and dreams were. Everything.

But not much after that revelation in his mind, he understood it wasn't going to be easy to get to you.

You were extremely shy and reserved.

In fact, your first interaction - when Emily introduced you both - consisted of a wave of your hand and a timid 'nice to meet you.'

He thought as time went by, you would loosen and become less bashful and quiet. And in part, he was right. As the months passed, you began to feel more comfortable within the team. You laughed at Luke's jokes, you commented on Rossi's stories, and you could even - when the stars aligned - crack a joke yourself to Tara or Matt.

But beyond that, no one knew much about your life outside of the BAU, unlike JJ, who always talks about her kids and her husband, or Matt, who talks about his kids, too. Or Tara, who recounts her failed dates. Or the same Luke who always shows photos of Roxy.

You, on the other hand, seemed to be an enigma. But Spencer Reid loved decoding enigmas.

At first, he turned his interest in you out of mere scientific curiosity. However, internally, he knew it wasn't just that.

It started with small random questions about the times you worked together: Is this coffee okay? What was the last book you read? Do you think we should buy some donuts for the team?

If you were honest, it picked your interest why, from all people, Dr. Spencer Reid was so adamant in making conversation with you.

From what you knew and from what the team said, Spencer was not a person very interested in things other than work or books. But suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked you what the last movie you saw was or something like that.

You always answered his questions; however, you would have liked to be much more talkative and engage in longer conversations, but your nature stopped you.

'What if I don't have anything more interesting for him to say?'

'Does he just talk to me because he feels sorry for me?'

And that was the big issue: you have never had problems with the way you live your life. You're pretty satisfied with what you do in your job and out of it, too. But you have always thought you are too 'simple' to entertain people's interest.

And to be honest, being surrounded by people with so much experience and big things happening in their lives still intimidates you a bit. So, you usually refrain from talking too much about yourself or anything for that matter.

But with Spencer, things are a bit different. He's always checking on you but respects your boundaries. He has learned that sometimes you just don't want to talk, and he doesn't push.

Despite his interest beyond the professional, Spencer would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Being able to share time with you will have to be enough for him.

In a way, he has become your protector. He is your backup during interrogations or in situations where you can feel awkward, like the times when some police officers tried to flirt with you and got too close. Sure, you know how to turn them down, but sometimes guys don't get the memo and keep pushing. You're too shy to yell or be aggressive about it.

The team also understands the way you are, and they know it does not make you any less professional. However, they have always been careful not to take you too much out of your comfort zone.

---------------

A whole two weeks and five murders later, the team is stuck trying to catch an unsub who has preferences for killing women after club nights. The profile says he is not interested in just any woman but in those between 25-30 years old who like to flirt with several men in the clubs. But it is not just any type of flirting; it is the type that is initiated and dominated by them. In short, he likes to kill women who are the opposite of submissive. He sees them as predators on a hunting ground.

Another finding in victimology is that the women he kills, in addition to having a specific age range, have very similar physical characteristics. And similar to you.

All his victims have your build, eye color, hair color, and height. It gets to be creepy to a certain point. And it's something difficult to ignore.

Bouncing information and possible strategies, the team agrees they need to be proactive to get him to show up before another killing happens.

"Okay, what options do we have?" Emily asks.

"The witnesses haven't gotten us anywhere," Luke complains.

"Although we've narrowed down his hunting grounds," Rossi shrugs.

"Yeah, we know the clubs where he likes to hunt," JJ backs Rossi.

"But although the profile, we have yet to learn about what to look for there. I mean, we know what the unsub wants, but not how he looks like." This time, it's Tara who speaks.

You've rarely seen Emily bite her tongue when she wants to say something, but it's clear that she has something on her mind, and she doesn't know how to put it, or maybe the problem is something else. You look at her out of the corner of your eye, and she looks back at you; what do those eyes say? They look like they're even apologetic.

It's a fraction of the time before she comes back to behave like herself.

"We need to lurk him. It's the only way," she says. And everyone's eyes - yours included - are on her immediately.

"Lurk him?" Matt repeats.

"Yes. And all we know who should be the one going undercover to do that," Emily adds, looking at you this time.

That's it—the elephant in the room.

Of course, you're the ideal candidate. Well, you're perfect in the physical aspect because if we talk about the victim's personality and yours...

There's silence in the room, and you can feel like the team's eyes are all on you.

Do they expect you to say no? To refuse? From your perspective, it's not a question; it's more like the option you all have to catch the guy.

"It's true (Y/N) would be the closest to the unsub type, but there are a lot of things to take into account," Matt says. And you know perfectly well what's behind his words, even if he doesn't say it directly.

And that's okay; it's perfectly plausible they have their doubts. It is not enough to look like the victims for the operation to work.

But if there is one thing you are sure of, it's that you will always give your all to your job, even if that means becoming a completely different person.

"I can do it," you mumbled so quietly that if the AC weren't in the lower setting, people wouldn't have heard you.

"But (Y/N), you know about this guy. It's dangerous," Matt points, a frown on his face.

"Not to mention he likes rough interactions," Luke adds.

"You don't have to do it if you feel uncomfortable." This time, it is JJ who voices her opinion. And you know, that's the closest reason to the team's main concern.

And the fact you can blow up the entire plan.

Spencer stays in silence. Internally he's freaking out thinking of you having to lurk on the unsub, but he knows you are a professional. And he feels a kind of deja vu.

When he was younger, the team would have said the same about him doing something like that. Spencer knows what it's like when people baby you, making you feel insecure. Sure, he hasn't had to worry about that anymore. Spencer is almost forty, and no one would dare to tell him he can't do something. Not after all the things he has been through.

"JJ is right, Bella. You don't have to do it. We can think of another way," Rossi backs JJ.

That's when Spencer notices the slight frown on your face. It's invisible to everyone but him. He knows it's there.

You stay collected, even when everyone on the team has something to say about how bad the idea of you going undercover to lurk the unsub is.

Emily is who stops everyone's rant.

"Guys, hey. If (Y/N) is telling us she can do it, we're going to do it. Of course, we'll be there to back up her and catch this unsub."

And this is how the discussion is settled.

Emily sends everyone out with a task to prepare for the night. Today is Friday, and the unsub will surely be stalking some new victim. The chances are high.

When it's just you and Spencer in the room, he still looks at you in silence.

"Do you also think I'll not be able to pull off this mission and I'm going to ruin everything?"

You downcast your gaze, exhaling deeply.

"No. I don't think that," Spencer clarifies, and you raise your gaze to meet his eyes. "You are more than capable, (Y/N). The team is worried because you'll be out of your comfort zone in a dangerous situation."

"The team? Not you?" You narrow your eyes to him.

You try not to sound accusatory, but if you're as scared as everyone, you also are fed up with the other's doubts.

Spencer closes the distance between you both but doesn't invade your personal space.

"Of course, I'm worried too! I don't want anything bad to happen to you. But I trust you and your judgment."

Your heart does flip-flops, and you're not sure if it's because Spencer is worried or because, despite that, he trusts you—or both.

"You do?" You ask, not so convinced.

Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And we'll be there when you catch the guy."

If that is the reassurance you need, you don't mention it. Instead, you grin at Spencer as a promise you'll do your job just how you are supposed to.

---------------

You insist on getting ready in your hotel room. The only assistant you ask for is Emily. She was the one who trusted you first in this, so you'll take every piece of advice she can give you before this night starts.

Everyone has a role in the plan.

Rossi will be the chauffeur who will drive you to the club.

Luke and Spencer would be in the club, mingling with the patrons. JJ, Matt, and Emily would be in the van monitoring the whole situation with cameras and earpieces. Rossi would keep his facade as a driver so he could be at one of the entrances. Tara would be at the club, too, eyeing nothing suspicious going on in the bar because there is a chance the unsub is getting help from the bartender.

When you are in front of the mirror applying the last touch of makeup, Emily is looking at you with a stare you can't decipher.

"What?" you ask, and Emily chuckles.

"Please, don't take this in a bad way, but I never thought I would live the day of seeing you using clothing like this. And Jesus, you look so hot!"

Your cheeks redens.

"It's a little bit odd coming from my boss, don't you think?" you muse, smoothing the fabric of your dress.

"Point taken," Emily raises her hands in defense. "Although I know someone who is going to run out of breath after seeing you."

You let out a scoff. It's not a surprise for you. The BAU girls - boss included - have been trying to set you up with Spencer since forever. You don't entertain the idea only because you don't think it's possible and not because you don't like the concept.

"Come on, don't say that. You are not helping to my nerves."

"Sorry, I'll shut up. We should go, though," Emily says, checking her watch.

One of the SUVs drives you to the van parking point. You needed to review the operation details.

At the back of the van - or commander point - JJ, Luke, Tara, Rossi, Matt, and Spencer see you come up with Emily.

For the best US profilers, they're not doing a good job hiding that they are gawking at you. Surely, no one imagined seeing you in such a revealing outfit. Outfit that, without a doubt, suits you extremely well, highlighting all your body attributes.

Spencer feels like he died and was resurrected after seeing you.

"Okay, guys, we need to check the details again," Emily announces.

The plan is in motion, and everyone is in position.

As expected, you arrive with Rossi at the club, who opens the door for you and helps you descend from the car. Rossi gives you a reassuring smile before letting you go.

Like a switch, you are no longer the shy SSA (Y/L/N). Now you are the woman who is going to take what she wants and attract the unsub attention doing that.

Your walk is determined, and your eyes send out flames of confidence to those who look at you. The music is very loud, something that would usually bother you, but not now. This needs to feel like your environment. That's how you like it, you tell yourself.

Almost instantly, you start to attract the looks of men who are eager for a woman like you.

You exude determination, and you don't go unnoticed.

Walking into the club, you make brief eye contact with Luke, who is on the dance floor. You see Spencer perched in a booth, nursing a beer.

At the same time, Tara is stationed at the bar.

"Remember (Y/N); the unsub expects the woman to approach men. The flirt needs to come from you," Emily reminds you by the earpiece hidden in one of the earrings you're wearing.

"Show time," you mumble to yourself.

You walk seductively to the dance floor, where a young man is dancing with a blonde. You approach and whisper something in his ear. That makes the boy completely lose interest in the blonde and start dancing with you. You smile and cling to the man's body, who wastes no time and takes your hips as if they were his possessions.

That dance certainly has nothing innocent about it. You continue whispering things in the boy's ear, and he looks more and more excited. Once you consider it a reasonable amount of time to have attracted attention, you leave the boy alone and head to the bar. Just a few meters away from Tara, a suspicious man is staring at you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as you order a drink. When the bartender passes it to you, you make subtle eye contact with Tara, who nods, indicating that the drink is clean.

You look next to you and see another man not so subtly looking at you. You know the unsub's profile, and you can't be intimidated or dominated by another man. You are the one who calls the shots. Otherwise, this will not work.

Before the man makes his attempt to seduce you, you turn to him, and with a penetrating look and disdainful voice, you stop him.

"Sorry, honey. Don't waste your time. You're not my type," and with that, you leave to move to the opposite side of the club. The guy huffs, and you're almost sure hearing him call you 'bitch' under his breath.

JJ, who's following the cameras inside the club, sees someone who looks suspect.

"Hey, this guy has been peeking at (Y/N) the entire time, and look, he clenched his fists when (Y/N) turned down that guy at the bar."

Emily confirms JJ's observation before giving you the next instructions.

"(Y/N), you're doing great. We have a possible target. So we need to raise the bet."

You know exactly what Emily means. You both had talked about the strategy to follow, having more details about what you should do than the rest of the team.

Matt and JJ look confused at each other but say nothing.

Your next step is to find another dude to seduce before delivering the coup de grace.

Luke and Spencer keep an eye on you. And while Luke is pleasantly surprised by your audacity, Spencer can't help but feel his stomach tighten. He tells himself it's because he is afraid something bad could happen to you, but inside of him, it's that and the fact of seeing you flirt with other men.

Just like you did with the guy on the dance floor, you attract the attention of another man; this time, you take his hand and pull him to the dance floor.

JJ and Matt's jaws drop to the floor. If Tara, Luke, and Spencer could do the same without giving themselves away, they would have done it, too.

As if it were your second nature, you laugh and move to the music. The man seems to enjoy the moment so much that he takes a bold step by leaning in to kiss you. You let him get closer until his lips are almost on yours. But before touching each other, you pull back with a malicious smile.

"Naughty boy. I'm who says if you can kiss or no," you pout, faking disappointment. Dizzed, the guy cocks his head and sees you walk away.

Matt chirps now. "It's him. Look boss," he tells Prentiss, pointing to the same guy JJ saw before.

There is no longer any doubt that it is him. Now you just have to catch him red-handed.

"(Y/N), we got him. It's time for the last play," Emily tells you.

With Emily's instruction, you go to the bar for another drink before heading over to where Spencer is sitting.

He tries to play it off, but he has no idea why you're approaching him.

"Is this seat taken, handsome?" You ask, with your drink in hand.

"N- no. Please," Spencer gestures to the booth on his front, but you opt to perch to his side. Spencer thinks he never has been this close to you. He looks at your eyes, and it's like you are a totally different person. It's a little bit contradictory for him, to be honest. He already likes you just as you are, but this version of you? It's driving him insane.

Some resemblance of your true self looks with a kind of curiosity the nervousness on Spencer. You don't think much about it; you assume he's playing the nervous guy who is baffled by you.

The thing is, Spencer isn't playing. He's definitely baffled by you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him, masking your question with a seductive smile.

"Yeah. Are - are you?" Spencer stutters a bit—something that is perfect for the plan but embarrassing for him.

You get closer to him to speak in his ear.

"This was Emily's idea," you tell him before kissing his ear and gently biting his lobe.

Spencer's breath hitches in his throat, and he thinks he's going to pass out any second. You're not doing it better: your heart is also pumping hard from the adrenaline. Of course, you had imagined something like that with Spencer, but only in your erotic dreams. You wouldn't dare do this on any given day.

You keep teasing Spencer, who, despite the nervousness, tries to play along. If this is the closest he will ever have you, he wants to engrave this in his memory.

"Just a little push, (Y/N). We almost have him," Emily instructs by the earpiece.

You swallow as subtly as possible as you wrap your arm around Spencer's neck, pulling him closer to you.

It's only a second between that action and the fact that you're kissing Spencer like it's your last meal.

Spencer doesn't know how to respond, and you were counting on that; it was enough time for the unsub to notice that you were the one who chose her last prey.

When Spencer is about to reciprocate the kiss, you murmur a 'sorry' into his lips and quickly pull away, giving him a disdainful look—which you hope he understands is fake—before getting up and walking toward the back exit door.

As expected, the unsub follows you towards the back door, and while your back is turned, he believes he has the advantage to attack you. What he doesn't know is that Matt and Luke are ready to lunge at him the moment he tries to touch you.

Everything that happens after is too fast.

The unsub is detained and taken to a patrol car while the team gathers around you, congratulating you on the successful operation. They all apologize to you for their previous apprehensions. You tell them that you understand and that there is no need to apologize. And it's like the switch has been flipped again since you came out of the femme fatale role.

But something is wrong. Spencer is not in the group. You see him a little further away, near the exit door of the club. Emily notices the looks between you both, and she sends the team on different tasks to close the case, leaving you and Spencer there.

There's something in his eyes that you can't decipher. You think it's resentment for using him without warning him what you were going to do.

You shyly approach him.

"It's me again," you tell him, pulling a face. You don't know what to say to make the situation better. Spencer nods.

"Yeah. You did it great, by the way," he compliments you. But it doesn't feel good like Spencer's compliments usually do.

"Look, about the kiss back there-" you start. He needs an explanation as a bare minimum.

"I know. It was fake," Spencer cuts you off.

Those words shouldn't hurt you as they do now. But isn't that the most reasonable thing to believe? The you in the club weren't you, so all you did inside was pretend.

Everything except that kiss.

If it's true you couldn't enjoy it the way you would have liked, you will never forget his lips on yours.

A tense silence takes over the moment. This is not okay.

You can't afford to lie to one of the most important people in your life, even if telling the truth takes you out of your comfort zone.

What the hell! Tonight has already been a total of 180 from a usual day for you.

"It wasn't," you mumble, and you see his eyes flicking to yours in a second.

"What?" Spencer asks, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Everything was fake, but not the kiss," you say with a stadied voice this time.

Spencer's heart races again. If you say you didn't fake it, then what he felt on your part at that moment was real?

"It wasn't fake?" He asks for clarification. You nod.

A smirk forms on Spencer's lips, seeing your cheeks redden.

There you are. The girl he had fallen for in the past two years.

"Well, you know that I am a man of science, right?" he tells you, and you frown because you have no idea where this is going.

"I know," you say with some hesitation.

"And as a man of science, I need evidence of things, you know?"

Now, you are the one who smirks at him.

"Evidence, huh?"

"Yep," he says, emphasizing the 'p' and swaying his body on his feet. You hum.

"I believe I can provide the necessary evidence if you need them," you concede, and Spencer's eyes sparkle with excitement.

Now, he is the one who reaches out and cups your cheeks. Your breathing quickens, but that doesn't stop you from standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips with his.

This time, there is no unsub, no curious eyes are looking at you, there is no rush, there is no femme fatale role, and above all, this is not fake; it's as real as the fact that your heart beats for him, and his for you.

------------------ 

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 

[gay-dorito-dust]

@thelightofmylife wouldn’t it be funny if I decided to reread your entire HSR writing list again (I in fact did)… lolol <3 I’m still thinking about your response to me btw. You’re very kind 💖💞💗 truly I can’t get enough of your writing and I suppose kind words

No pressure to do this request if you don’t want to, you can also take this ask as an invitation to chat too

( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

ahh! I was thinking ,,,, Sunday + Aventurine + Jing Yuan… and anyone else you would personally want to do …!! Giving them headpats because you love them soooo much!!! And receiving or asking for headpats in trade … <3 i think it’s a universal thing that headpats are <33 so good and lovely and good for showing love ;w;’ <3

Jing Yuan will gladly accept your head pats, he finds your beaming face adorable as you gently patted his head as though you were being extremely cautious with how you gave him head pats.

He recognises it as your primary display of love after awhile and would create a routine where he would just sit himself in front of you, claim that he was meditating, and closes his eyes and waits until he felt you begin to pat him on the head and mutter ‘soft floofy hair’ under your breath as he fights back the urge to smile.

You really do want his heart and he didn’t want to go back to a reality where he did not know the power of your comforting head pats.

Someone could’ve been looking for him about something serious and when they’ve enter the room, they are greeted to the sight of him him dozing off all the while getting treated to some well deserved head pats from you.

A bird popped out of his hair once during a headpat session and you were scared off of giving him head pats for a while in fear of having another tiny bird fly out from his hair. Jing Yuan was a sad man that day and would stop fucking pouting until Yanquing asked you to put him out of his misery and give Jing Yuan his head pats, he couldn’t train with a moody general who didn’t get his daily head pats.

Jing Yuan wasn’t afraid of giving out headpats of his own. He gave Yanquing a couple in the past but he used them sparingly. You however, you could have as many headpats as you’d like from him and Jing Yuan wouldn’t complain, especially not as he got the chance to watch you melt under his touch to the point you were practically cuddled into his side with a look of pure content written across your face.

So if he were to see that you weren’t having the best of days he’d immediately start giving you headpats in hopes of making you feel better. Jing Yuan’s logic was that seeing as how your headpats always helped make his day just that little bit brighter. Jing Yuan could only hope that he could pay it forward to you in a way that let you know that he would always have your back, always.

Aventurine leans into your hand as you give him head pats and closing his eyes as he enjoyed any amount of affection you decided to give him.

He needed this, he really did.

At first he was afraid of what the implication meant but now, he would practically sprawl himself across your lap and silently wait until you were done with what you were doing to give him some head pats, whining that you don’t pay enough attention to him.

He wasn’t use to such gentle, loving touch such as yours and now that he’s gotten a taste, he’s become addicted and would always find a way to get you to give him head pats no matter what. He would ask but Aventurine felt as though he was only worth them when he’s done something to earn such affection.

He viewed everything as a transaction and your headpats were no different.

Until you told him one day that he didn’t have to ever ask to receive love and affection, at least not with you and that you would gladly give him headpats just for waking up.

Aventurine cried that night in your arms as you gave him soft, comforting headpats.

Now aventurine demands headpats for practically everything but you didn’t mind as you were more than happy to spend hours on end if it meant spending time with your lover and reassuring him of your love for him. It heals apart of him that he didn’t know needed healing before, you heal him with your unwavering kindness and compassion and he didn’t know how the appropriate way to thank you, other then to give you some headpats himself.

Aventurine’s headpats were soft, gentle, Alamo as though he was scared he was going to hurt you but they were reassuring and encouraging at the same time that made you feel as though you could move mountains.

His headpats were like a silent ‘I love you’ for a singular reason.

He would pat your head three times and linger there for a couple of seconds then patting your head three more times before repeating this a couple more times, even going as far as to adding in a couple of kisses to your face in between. He loved hearing you laugh but he loved it when you shown signs of being comfortable, being safe with him as that was all he wants was to make you feel safe and happy with him because that’s how you made him feel on a daily basis.

Sunday finds your need to give him head pats amusing and will gladly let you do so to your hearts content if it brings you so much joy.

It doesn’t matter if he was busy because Sunday will always make room for you and you head pats no matter what, and will stress the importance to his staff that a specific time slot remains reserved for you and only you because your head pats were pure magic to the Halovian.

His wings would flutter softly and in time with your head pats that you couldn’t help but giggle at how cute the sight was as Sunday tries to get them to stop, but ultimately just accepts that his wings had a mind of their own when it came to you and how reciprocal they were to your touch.

He defiantly needs them after a hard days work and will most defiantly collapse on your lap, wings drooping like a pair of dog ears in tandem to express his exhaustion, and sigh as he felt you begin to softly pat his head.

‘You’ve done amazing today honey.’ You tell him.

‘Thank you my dearest but all I want to do now is relax with you if that’s quite alright with you.’ Sunday said tired and you couldn’t deny him when he was like this, and for the rest of the afternoon you spent cuddled up with Sunday and giving him head pats as his wings tried to match with the pace of your pats.

Sunday does reward you with headpats of your own but they may not come as frequently as you might like but you understood that he was a busy man, when you do get your headpats its mainly when you were on the brink of falling asleep, so often times it felt like a dream. Sunday wishes he could give you as many headpats as you’d like but giving you them while you were half asleep was for the best.

Bonus: when he’s cuddling you from behind, his wings will try and give you headpats but end up hitting the sides of your face, so somethings you’d wake up to a pair of soft grey wings softly smacking you first thing in the morning.

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Kiss and Make Up

Summary: You used to get along with your brother’s best friend, but at some point, it all changed. Lando’s rude comments frustrate you to no end, and your brother is fed up with your complaints. Max only sees one solution: you need to make up.

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader (enemies to lovers)

WC: 5.0K

Warnings: cursing?

Masterlist

You heard the keys jiggle in the door, followed by the creaking sound of it opening, and your brother stomping through the hallway of your parental home. You finally have some time off from school after the insane amount of deadlines and exams that filled your last couple of weeks and decided to visit your family. You like studying and university, but it’s nice to come home and be taken care of instead of doing everything on your own. However, you’re still in charge of dinner tonight. You can never make it back home without being forced to make your famous lasagne at least once and tonight’s the night your family will be blessed with your famed, home-made dish. 

Max smiled when he saw you standing in the kitchen, chopping up the veggies for tonight. Although he’d never tell you directly, he had missed you. Max still lived close to your parents whereas you had moved further away for school. It made it difficult to see each other regularly, especially since Max had started Quadrant with Lando and didn’t make the effort to visit you anymore. Seeing you in person had become a rare occurrence, something that would only happen in his parents’ house.

Max put his hands on your shoulders as he leaned forward to watch what you were doing. “Hey sis, are you making lasagne?” He said with a smile.

“Hello Y/N, I’ve missed you. How are you doing? – I’m doing well, Max. Thank you for asking.” You mumbled as you continued to cut vegetables for dinner.

You couldn’t see it with your back towards your brother, but he smiled at your antics. “Hello my dear sister, I haven’t seen you in such a long time. I do wonder how you’re doing.”

You turned around and smiled when he pulled you into a hug. “It’s your own fault. You never come to visit me, but I’m doing well now that the exams are over,” you tell him with a chuckle.

Max decided to ignore your complaint, instead redirecting the conversation to what you were busying yourself with. “So, lasagne?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Max. I’m making lasagne for dinner.” 

He silently cheered at your response. A cheeky smile made its way onto his face when he asked, “Is there enough for one more?”

“Depends… Who’s it for? P?” You said, looking back over your shoulder to meet his eyes as you cut up more veggies.

“Does it matter who I invited? You won’t let anyone else eat your lasagne?” He said with a laugh, but you knew the question was serious. He knew you didn’t particularly get along with some of his friends – actually, one of his friends, Lando. To say your relationship with Lando isn’t great would be an understatement. Max didn’t know why exactly you didn’t get along, you’ve never indulged him, but the dislike is clearly noticeable and has been going on for ages. Max had tried to improve the relationship in the past, but nothing had worked, only making it worse. He doesn’t understand why Lando, specifically; you don’t seem to have any issues with his other friends. 

You looked at Max pointedly; he was asking for something he already knew. Of course, you’d let people other than P eat your lasagne. There’s only one person that you wouldn’t allow.

Max sighed at your seriousness, “Yes, I’ve invited P,” he told you.

You smiled triumphantly, “Good! I’ve missed her; more than you, actually,” you said with a snort.

Max rolled his eyes at your comment. “I should never have introduced you two. You’re suspiciously close,” he mumbled as he shook his head, leaving the kitchen.

You grinned at his comment and continued to prepare dinner. You carefully cut the veggies, made the sauce and built the lasagne before you covered it with cheese. After you finally put it in the oven, you went to your room to freshen up. Of course, you cannot cut tomatoes without getting juice on your shirt, so clean clothes are a necessity. You quickly changed your shirt, reapplied your deodorant, and fixed up your hair before you heard the door opening, footsteps and voices following soon after. You smiled as you walked down the stairs, excited to see Pietra after months. You walked into the room, ready to hug your brother’s girlfriend, only to see his boyfriend making himself comfortable on the couch.

Your smile dropped from your face in an instant, and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Lando,” you said in a low voice. What on earth was he doing here? Your brother told you he’d invited his girlfriend, your friend; was she not here yet? Lando must’ve come to pick something up, right? He wouldn’t visit around this time unless he came to pick something up… Or come for dinner… Judging by how comfortable he had made himself on the couch, you doubt it’s the former.

“Y/N! How are you?” Lando said, getting up from the couch to properly greet you. You scoffed and folded your arms as he moved closer.

“What are you doing here?” 

“Nice to see you too,” Lando said with a smirk.

“I hope you’re not here for dinner,” you continue.

“I am here for dinner, actually. Max invited me.”

You shifted your eyes over to Max in anger. He’d told you P would be coming over, not Lando. The little bitch. 

“I take it P’s not coming, then?” It was evident in your voice that you were upset.

Max looked at you with apologetic eyes, like a child being scolded, as he avoided your gaze. At the lack of response, you turned your attention back to Lando.

“There isn’t enough food for all of us, and even if there was, it probably wouldn’t match your fancy diet anyway. Go buy a salad or something,” you told him, rolling your eyes.

Lando couldn’t help but smile at your response. “Such hostility,” he said, his hand resting on his chest in fake hurt, and a teasing grin on his face that made you want to slap it off.

You gritted your teeth at the teasing – God, this man frustrated you to no end, and he was enjoying it, too. 

“Fuck off, Lando. You’re not welcome here,” you said before walking away.

Lando was about to follow you into the dining room, unable to resist teasing you further, but Max stopped him. “Come on, man. Don’t provoke her. She’s already annoyed, especially because I lied to her.” 

You paced the dining room in an attempt to calm yourself down while the lasagne cooked in the oven. You grabbed the plates from the cabinet and started setting the table. You'd cooled off until you realised you’d have to set a place for Lando. You frowned as you stared at the last plate. Why couldn’t Lando just leave you alone? He should know not to bother you, you’d shown him before how petty you could be when he frustrated you, so why did he have to try again and again? Should you act like the bigger person, get over yourself and set the table for Lando, or should you 'forget' about Lando and set only four places? Your parents would be upset for sure, but the urge to retaliate is so strong. You stood still for at least a minute as you weighed your options. 

A smile crept its way on your face when you spotted the kids’ table in the corner of the dining room. Usually, it’s only used for big family events, when your much younger cousins come to visit. They don’t properly fit at the adult table and have their own tiny table in the corner of the room. A normal-sized human wouldn’t properly fit on one of the seats, but then again, Lando’s short, right? Besides, if he acts like a child, then he can sit at the children’s table. You grab the children’s cutlery and plate from the cabinet and set a special place for Lando. You can barely keep your laughter back at the thought of Lando sitting at the small table in a chair that’s way too tiny for him.

When you heard the timer beep, you tried to neutralise your expression. You placed the lasagne on the kitchen table before calling your family (and Lando) for dinner. Your parents were, unsurprisingly, the first to join you at the table. The boys, naturally, were still finishing up the game they started before dinner was finished. Your parents were already seated and provided with drinks before the boys came walking in. Although your parents hadn’t noticed the table in the corner or the missing chair, your brother noticed straight away.

He looked at you disappointedly as he said, “Y/N, did you seriously not set a place for Lando?”

“No, I did. It’s right over there,” you said, pointing to the kids’ table.

The boys looked in the direction you were pointing, and Max started laughing immediately. Meanwhile, Lando was shocked at how blunt you were being. So far, every retaliation you’d ever taken wasn’t that obvious. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and disappointment as he stared at the table – did you really dislike him that much?

“Where’s the other chair?” Max asked, still chuckling as he stood at the empty spot by the table.

You didn’t look up when you responded, “I don’t know,” shrugging your shoulders as you casually continued to divide the lasagne.

Lando sighed as he tried the chair, his knees pointing out above the table. Max only laughed louder at the image, and your dad couldn’t resist chuckling either while Lando pouted.

“I can’t eat like this.” 

“Then don’t. I told you you’re not welcome.” 

“Y/N!” Your mum scolded you before turning to Lando. “You’re always welcome here, darling. Ignore her,” she said, smiling sweetly at him.

You rolled your eyes.

“Where did you put the chair?” She questioned you.

You sighed, “They’re just in the pantry,” you admitted.

Your mum stood up and grabbed the chair for Lando who was still sitting in the tiny seat, while Max took pictures to post on his story, laughing. Lando smiled thankfully when she came back with the chair and grabbed a normal plate to serve him a generous portion of your homemade lasagne.

You couldn’t help but glare at Lando when he took his first bite. He was undeserving of the food into which you had put so much effort and love. You couldn’t even enjoy your own portion with the boy sitting across from you, although it tasted great. But Lando couldn't enjoy it either with the glares you kept sending him. Your resentment made him uncomfortable, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d be afraid that you’d poisoned his dinner. That was not your style though; he knew exactly how you liked to take your revenge. After all, he had experienced your wrath many times, and he had to admit you were very creative in creating your retaliations. He could never be entirely sure, or proof that you were the cause, but everything about the weird situations he’d been in the past years screamed your name.

There was one time that he’d gotten tens of phone calls every day for a week about a missing key. Even now, he gets occasionally gets calls about a key that was found. It seems quite innocent, but Lando’s phone was blowing up the entire week at the most inconvenient times: while he was in important meetings, when he was spending time with friends, even when he was streaming. Another time, Lando’s Netflix was completely messed up. All the recommendations on his home screen were for kids’ TV and romcoms. This, too, seems innocent enough, but after he had watched Netflix together with Daniel Ricciardo, and his homepage was filled with Cocomelon, The Kissing Booth, Riverdale and other films and series of the same genre, he had to hear about it for years to come. Some other time, Lando’s clothes mysteriously fell apart after only a few hours of wearing them after he’d stayed the night at Max's place at the same time as you. He didn't know how, but he was sure you had something to do with that too.

Although your reactions were very petty and often childish, Lando did admire your perseverance, resourcefulness and creativity. If he wasn’t always the victim of your crimes, he would have loved them, and perhaps even encouraged them, because, let’s be honest, it’s impressive if you can make someone’s clothes fall apart when you’re not even near them.

Lando didn’t really understand why he was always your victim, though. When you were younger, you’d gotten along fine, but as you’d gotten older you’d become meaner to him. He didn't know where things went wrong, and whether it was his fault or you just decided you were done with him. You used to tease each other, yes, but that was always mutual and lighthearted. Neither of you minded the comments that were made because you both knew it was all in good fun. At some point, you just started doing things like these, and Lando still doesn't know what initiated it.

You know exactly when it started, though. Everything was fine until Max and Lando hit puberty. Suddenly, they were ‘too cool’ to hang out with you, and you were excluded from all of their activities. The teasing didn’t really feel like teasing anymore, but rather mean comments that hurt you. Lando never caught onto your change in perception; he thought you still saw it as teasing. But the comments became more rude over time, and it felt like the boys who were your friends once, were now making fun of you.

Like when you were invited to apply for Honours College at your university. You were extremely proud that your grades in your regular courses were good enough to be admitted, and that you’d been invited to apply. But Lando just called you a nerd and laughed before continuing to talk about his own achievements, as if what you’d done was nothing important or impressive.

It wouldn’t have mattered much if it were any other friend of your brother, but Lando was important. You’d known him for about ten years, and he was basically a part of your family. What didn’t help either was that you had developed a small crush on him over the years. By the time he turned twenty, he’d gone through a glow-up. He finally learned how to deal with his curly hair and his face had matured to that of a handsome man. You were attracted to him, but his ugly personality distracted from his looks – most of the time.

Nevertheless, you wanted to impress Lando; to make him like you so he would stop with the off-handed comments. Though you weren’t necessarily good at sports or karting like he was, you excelled academically. You thought by showing your intelligence, you could gain his respect. Unknowingly, it made Lando feel dumb. He’d never even finished secondary school, and you were taking on extra classes in university without any troubles. He reacted differently than he would have liked to, but he thought you’d understand it was a joke.

Another time, you organised a last-minute surprise party for your brother. You had made sure there were decorations, music, food, and most importantly, drinks. You were happy with what you had managed to do in the time available, but your mood significantly worsened when Lando jokingly said you could have put in a little more effort. He was smiling when he said it, but it felt like he was making fun of you; of the amount of effort you had put in to make sure everything was organized as perfectly as possible. Despite his intention to tease, it didn't feel that way to you.

The comment that you believe triggered your best revenge was on Pietra’s birthday. She celebrated her birthday at Max’s apartment, and of course, you’d come to visit and celebrate with her. A few months before her birthday she’d shown you a top she really liked when she was online shopping, but the colour wasn’t right. So, for her birthday, you decided to crochet the top in her favourite colour. It was a bold choice because you didn’t have much experience crocheting, nevertheless, you tried. If she didn’t like it, you would just buy it from the store after all, or get her something else. You thought it looked pretty good, especially for your first try. Regardless, there were some mistakes and uneven shapes.

Pietra was completely surprised and elated with the present, especially when you told her you made it yourself. She knew how much time and effort it probably cost you to make it, but Lando didn't consider that when he commented on the piece.

“You made it yourself? Maybe you should practice a little more, huh?” He said, laughing, before handing it back to P.

You felt the smile drop from your face at the hurtful remark, but Lando was oblivious to the fact he hurt your feelings. Max turned to Lando in shock, while Pietra assured you that she loved the top, and couldn’t wait to wear it. You plastered a smile on your face, but it was obvious (to anyone but Lando) that it was fake. That night, after drinking your feelings away, you tore the seams in Lando’s clothes. Not every single one, but enough so it would fall apart after too much exertion; the punishment should fit the crime.

The anticipatory pleasure at the thought of Lando’s clothes tearing at an inconvenient moment was enough to satisfy you. When you heard about what happened a few days later from Max, you could barely keep your laugh back.

More recently, you had gone clubbing with your brother and his friends. It was an unusual event because your brother didn’t want to see you flirting or dancing with random boys in the club, but this time it was different. He knew you’d been stressed from school, and he’d rather you let loose when he’s there than when he’s not there to keep an eye on you. 

You were dancing with your brother and his friends when a cute boy came up to you, asking if he could buy you a drink. You said yes, of course. You would never refuse a free drink, especially in good, handsome, company, and you wanted to get over your small crush on Lando. You don’t know why or how, but he always seemed ten times hotter at the club, and you needed to get away from him. The longer you stayed near him, the more his pretty face and well-dressed body seemed to distract you from his unattractive personality, and that couldn’t happen. 

You followed the man to the bar and ordered a drink as he flirted with you. His attention was completely focused on you, but you kept getting distracted by the feeling of eyes on your back. It wasn’t until you were dancing in the middle of the large crowd that the feeling faded. You felt free without the supervision of your brother, and without Lando to distract you.

The man pulled your back closer to him, and you let him. You swayed from side to side with your arms in the air while he kissed his way down your neck. It didn’t feel right, but that didn’t matter; it was good enough. You liked the feeling of his lips on your neck and felt yourself get lost in the moment until suddenly there was a tug on your arm.

Your eyes opened in shock as you felt yourself get pulled away. The man you were dancing with didn’t seem to mind much and moved on with another girl standing nearby as you stared at Lando confused and disoriented.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked him as you struggled to pull your arm from his firm grip.

“I’m taking you back to the group, you need to be more careful,” he explained.

You scoffed, “What? I was perfectly safe! Let me go!”

“Were you? He seemed untrustworthy,” Lando continued as he pulled you through the club.

“I was just having fun! God, you’re so annoying!” You say with a huff before walking back to your brother.

Lando watched you as you walked away. He didn't want you to dance with that man, or any man for that matter, even though he would never admit it. However, you had misunderstood his intentions. To you it seemed like he was interrupting your fun, cockblocking if you will, and it frustrated you to no end. 

For days to come, you complained to your brother about what happened, insisting that it was none of Lando’s business and he should’ve left you alone. However, your brother grew tired of your complaints really quickly and couldn’t deal with your issues anymore. You’re ongoing dispute with Lando had dragged on for too long and it needed to be resolved, soon, before he went insane. During your next fight, Max would force the two of you to repair your relationship, whether you wanted to or not, because he simply couldn’t take it any longer.

It didn’t take long until your next fight. You were looking at pictures of Lando and Max on Instagram from when they went golfing a few days back when you spotted something. In one of the pictures, Lando was taking a photo with a camera, a camera which he had seemingly ‘borrowed’ from you without your knowledge. 

The second you saw him enter your parents’ house, you targeted him.

“You stole my camera?”

“Hello to you, too, Y/N,” he responded with a grin.

You rolled your eyes.

“Where is it, Lando,” you continued, stepping closer to him.

“I gave it to Max. He was supposed to give it back. He hasn’t yet?” 

“No, he hasn’t. And you shouldn’t have taken it in the first place.”

Your gaze shifted to Max, who walked in behind Lando.

“Where is it, Max?” 

“In my room somewhere, I think.”

“Can you go grab it? Please?”

The words you said were much kinder than the way you said them. Max sighed before walking up the stairs to his room, you and Lando in tow. He looked around the room, getting on his knees to look under the bed.

“You put my camera under your bed?” You asked angrily.

“I’m not sure if I did, that’s why I’m looking, Y/N.”

Max thought this was the absolute worst. He had gotten himself pulled into one of your arguments again, and now he was being yelled at by you when it wasn’t his fault to begin with. He sighed before getting up. 

“I’ll just go grab my phone for the flashlight,” he said before leaving the room.

You merely nodded in response as you continued to look around the room in search of your camera when you heard the door close, the lock falling in place.

“Max? Did you just lock the door?”

Lando lifted his head from his place on the floor, where he was looking under the dresser, at your insinuation. He quickly changed his position to sit up, staring at the door with you.

“Yes, I have. The two of you need to make up. I won’t let you out until you get along. I can’t handle the two of you fighting anymore. It’s really fucking annoying,” he said through the door.

You looked at Lando in shock, to find him already staring back at you.

“Max, you can’t do this! What the fuck is wrong with you! Let us out!” You yelled as you knocked on the door.

When he didn’t react, you hit the door again, “Max!”

You looked at Lando at the lack of response, “Do something!” You said, but he merely looked at you.

“What am I supposed to do? Knocking the door won’t help. I actually think it might be a good idea for us to talk everything out.”

You looked at Lando in shock. “Are you serious?”

He shrugged while he stared at you, and you shook your head in response.

“I’m not doing this,” you said, pacing around the room while Lando followed you with his eyes as he sat on your brother’s bed, an amused smile on his face.

“I’m leaving,” you said, opening the window.

“What are you doing?” Lando asks, quickly getting up from the bed.

“I’m leaving,” you repeated, sitting on the window sill, throwing one leg outside.

“What have I done to you to make you this angry? I can’t believe you’d rather fall out of a window than talk to me,” Lando frowned.

You let out a choked laugh, mouth open in shock. “Are you serious? You don’t know what you’ve done?” You said as you sat on the window sill, one leg outside the window, the other still on the floor.

“Yes. Please tell me, because I’ve obviously missed a lot if you’re willing to climb out of a window. By the way, stop climbing out of the window!” Lando said, all but running to prevent you from dangling your other leg out of the window too. It was already halfway there, leaving you in a very uncomfortable position when Lando grabbed your leg.

“You’re going to hurt yourself, Y/N!” 

“No, I’m not,” you grunted out as you tried to kick him away. You leaned away from him, losing your grip on the windowsill at the exertion. Lando could barely catch you before you fell out of the window. 

“Fuck, Y/N! I told you to get away from the window!” He yelled as he pulled you away from it and back into the room before quickly closing the window. He stood in front of it as if he was trying to block your way from the window, trying to block your escape.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Don’t be such a baby, I’m fine.” 

“Only because I was holding your leg.”

“If you weren’t holding my leg I wouldn’t have fallen in the first place.” You stepped closer to him, huffing in defiance. 

Lando sighed, but he didn’t respond. He kept silent while he stared at you, challenging you as you crept closer without breaking eye contact. The tension in the room was palpable, and it only increased the longer you stared at each other. Your breath was shallow from the adrenaline of your near-fall, and your glare was met with a look of annoyance. Lando’s hands hung limply by his sides, the complete opposite of a mere moment ago when he grabbed you with such urgency.

"Why do you always have to make things so difficult?" Lando's voice was low, strained with frustration.

"Me?" you shot back, your voice rising. "You're the one who's always so demeaning, so... so infuriating!"

"Infuriating?" Lando repeated, scoffing. "Coming from the girl who sabotages my Netflix and sets up kiddie tables for me?"

"You deserved it," you retorted, folding your arms and looking down. "You always mock me and belittle everything I do, every achievement, every effort… Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"

Lando’s confidence faltered at your confession. His eyes softened, and he took a small step closer, stroking your arm softly. "I never meant to hurt you, Y/N. I thought... I thought we were just joking around, teasing. I didn't realise-"

"Didn't realise what?" you interrupted, eyes brimming with tears. "That your words actually affect me? That I care what you think?"

Lando's hand reached out, tentatively brushing a strand of hair from your face. The touch was gentle, almost adoring, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't know."

You closed your eyes, breathing out through your nose as you let the apology sink in. When you opened them again, the regret you saw in his eyes made you believe him. But it was the love and adoration in his gaze that convinced you.

"Lando..." you began, but your voice caught in your throat.

Before you could finish, Lando closed the distance between you, his hands cupping your face. His eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was longing. Slowly, almost apprehensively, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in an uncertain kiss.

Your initial surprise was quickly replaced by the warmth spreading through your body. Almost automatically, your hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. The kiss deepened, filled with your pent-up frustration and unspoken feelings. Your hands slid up Lando's neck and you ran your hands through his hair, pulling on it softly. The sensation of Lando's hands on your body, and his lips against yours felt right, making everything else fade away.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathing heavily. Lando’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. You could see the uncertainty in his gaze, and you were certain your eyes showed the same.

“What… what just happened?” you whispered, your voice shaky.

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair, which was now slightly tousled from your fingers. “I don’t know. But it felt… right.”

You swallowed, trying to make sense of all of the emotions running wild inside you. “We can’t just pretend this didn’t happen, Lando.”

“I don’t want to,” he says firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. 

You laughed softly at the situation, leaning forward to rest your head against his shoulder. Lando wrapped his arms around you straight away. 

“This is not what I expected to happen,” you whispered.

Lando chuckled softly. “Me neither, but it’s not so bad, is it?” 

You snuggled into his neck, sighing contently once you were comfortable. No, it wasn't bad at all.

[sweetmilkespresso]

Treat You Better | CS55-> ? Fic & SMAU

order: Ex!Carlos x ChronicIll!Fem!Reader x Mystery Driver

flavor: angst

ingredients: angst, chronic illness, gaslighting, hurt/comfort, and fluff

You can't help but look at your past relationship and compare it to the one you have now.

bariata's note: Hi, this is my first real fic in the f1 fandom. It's more of test to see if people would be interested in more like this. I hope you enjoy what I've brewed up for you.

Sometimes you can't help but think about what you used to have.

Back when you and Carlos first got together you felt ontop of the world. You were in love and it felt like nothing could stop the rush you felt everytime you touched. You knew in your heart you loved him. You knew in your heart that he loved you too. Well, until you got sick.

It had started with the migraines.

They happened every few weeks coming and going like a tidal wave.

Eventually the migraines got closer and closer together until you got them daily.

They made you nauseous and every light became a potential trigger for a flare up.

You went from following Carlos from race to race to laying alone in the dark of your Monnaco apartment, in far too much pain to do anything.

That's when your relationship began to crumble.

It started with little things.

Carlos would complain about your constant rainchecks and I-Owe-Yous.

Next was the eyeroles and frowns whenever you mentioned your pain.

Overtime your body started to decline. Fatigue and exhaustion plagued your every waking moment. The aches and pains more pronounced as each day passed.

It was hard to stand and walk on your own.

As your body started to deteriorate so did your relationship.

What was originally little quips and snide remarks turned into white hot arguments.

Soon he was referring to you as:

"Too much" and "Exhausting"

You shot back that he was acting childish.

Not everything revolved around him and his needs. Things like this don't suddenly disappear because others find it tiring.

Until one day he'd had enough.

He'd locked you out of the apartment and threw out your things.

The two of you were done.

----

Looking back at that time you had felt so alone.

After you had broken up you moved into a little studio apartment that barely seemed fit for a person let alone a person with needs like yours.

Everything was too cramped and there was little you could do accessibility wise. You were renting the place after all.

----

But then he walked into your life.

It had been gradual at first.

He'd message or call you asking for an update since you'd went quiet on all your socials.

Soon enough he was inviting you over or coming to your place to visit.

It was incredibly cramped with the two of you in your little studio but you made it work.

He was so considerate of what you were feeling.

Whenever you cancelled he would just smile and say "Okay, there's always next time."

He was brazen and open about what he felt.

How he sat you down and point-blank made his intentions of "courting" you very clear.

You remember your first kiss.

You remembered how he cupped your cheek and asked permission before gently pressing your lips together in a chaste kiss.

He'd asked you to move in with him only a few months into your new relationship.

You agreed wholeheartedly. Your lease on your old studio apartment had been coming up anyways.

He happily helped you move in.

He didn't let you lift a single finger. Every little thing was taken care of. He hired a crew to move your stuff from your old studio to his place.

He was certainly full of surprises.

----

"Hey, y/n. Can you come over here and tell me if this is sturdy enough?" He asked you from the tile floor of the bathroom as he screwed a hand rail into the walls.

"What do you think about this one?" He asked as he passed you an ipad with plans for renovating the place.

"We can get the counters lowered and widen the space here so you can wheel your chair through and reach."

He installed ramps for all the doors.

He attached a wheel chair rack to every car he owned.

Since the house was two stories he even hired a guy to build a chair lift so you could reach the second floor.

Once your hands started shaking he would kneel down and tie your shoes for you.

Every little action was full of adoration.

He made it so easy to love him.

----

You're brought back to the present by a loud snore from right next to you.

Looking to your left you are met with the sleeping face of the love of your life.

You thumb over the pictures in your phone.

Smiling at the pictures you press post.

y/ninstagram

y/ninstagram In a world of boys, he's a gentleman.

[lowkeychenle]

Some Things Can't Be Taught [ZCL] (M)

Description: In which you are failing college physics, and your childhood best friend offers up one of his friends as your tutor—except, there’s a little something he wants to learn from you in exchange.

Genre: Smut/Fluff/Angst in some spots

Content Warnings: explicit, protected sex; awkward Chenle; reader is more experienced (Chenle is a virgin); reader and Chenle ridicule each other; use of pet name ‘baby’ (Chenle isn’t creative yet); oral sex (f & m receiving); alcohol consumption; explicit unprotected sex (reader on unnamed birth control lol); Chenle is somewhat of a fast learner

Word Count: 23,775

Taglist: @lostinneocity @dinosaurtoothbrushwithninjasauce @niinjo @once4sunrise @amyjipark @buns-inhiding @ti--red @defzcl @theboyz-jacob

Permanent Taglist: @sunnybutcloudy @neozon3nha @waffleuvs

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!reader (features Dreamies, aespa Karina & Giselle)

Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)

“Come on. It’s either this or you’re gonna fail.” Your best friend, Jisung, crosses his arms over his chest. “You need help, and I already asked him for you. He said yes, so you’ll have to suck it up.”

“Ji, I’ve never even met him before. He’s a complete stranger to me, and I don’t really care all that much if I fail.”

“(Y/N), it’s the first semester of college. You need to try a little harder or you’re gonna start failing everything,” Jisung scolds you.

His front door opens, and both of your gazes go toward the sound. Without even seeing who it is yet, you know exactly what’s happening.

“Park Jisung, did you literally tell him to—”

As soon as Jisung’s friend comes into view, your words die lodged in your throat. You blink a few times to make sure you’re seeing things correctly, and then glare at the man standing next to you. All he does is raise his eyebrows in response, a grin filtering onto his face.

“Who knows,” Jisung whispers, nudging your arm. “Maybe you’ll get more than a tutor.”

“Ew, Sungs, the last thing I need is you trying to find me dick. Please never say that again.”

Jisung’s friend is simply unlike any other man you’ve ever seen. He enters the kitchen, and despite running his fingers through his hair and sighing, he sends you a gentle smile before looking at Jisung.

“This is the girl who needs physics help?”

“And maybe physical edu—” Jisung wheezes as you backhand him in the stomach, nearly keeling him over. His friend bites back a laugh before returning his attention to you.

“Yes, I need help with physics. The class.”

“Is there any other kind of physics?”

You can’t get a read on him. Not really. His hair is neat, not a single strand out of place, and he’s wearing jeans with a button-down tucked into them. Glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose, and he’s carrying two fairly large textbooks.

An instance of silence takes over the room, but both you and this other guy are at a complete loss on what to do next. And for some reason, you can’t stop looking at him. It must be because your analysis isn’t working. He intrigues you, but only in the sense that it’s rare for you to be unable to see into people’s souls.

“(Y/N), this is Chenle, Chenle, this is (Y/N).” Jisung gestures between the two of you once he finally catches his breath.

“Hi, Chenle. Great to meet you. Jisung, can I talk to you for a few minutes? Over there?” You violently point in the opposite direction, but send a somewhat small smile over to Chenle. “Sorry, we’ll just be a second.”

He nods and sets his textbooks down on the counter. You pull Jisung by his wrist.

“What’s going on?” he asks. “I’m doing you a favor.”

“Now, I know you’ve got like, six girls in your phone you could’ve asked to help me with physics. Why him?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Okay, look. Hear me out all the way first before you punch me.” Jisung sighs and shifts on his feet. “Chenle is literally the smartest person I know. Yes, including you. And he’s really nice, too, and I think you’d…I don’t know, like him eventually if you gave him the chance. You haven’t really done that recently.”

“Sure, but I like being single, Sungs. If I wanted someone, I would’ve asked.”

“You can just let him tutor you then. I know both of you pretty well, alright? I think you two could be good for each other. By all means, don’t date him or try to date him. But for the love of God, let him tutor you. He’s gonna do it for free, and you fucking need it.”

You roll your eyes, but he’s right. There’s no denying it. Letting out a sigh, you finally agree, “Fine. I’ll let him tutor me.”

What you told Jisung wasn’t a lie—you did like being single. And part of keeping yourself single (and happy) has been avoiding any men who might change one or both of those things. You’d never met Chenle before today, but the second you saw him, you knew. He had the potential to ruin your life…if you let him.

So, no dating. But you’ll take tutoring, because if you face the facts, Jisung is right. The last thing you need to do is fail a college course.

You and Jisung walk back over to Chenle. He’d made himself busy with getting a water bottle out of the fridge. Once he tilts it back, you almost curse yourself for your reaction—why the fuck are you watching him swallow it? Imagining the liquid roll down his throat and—

“Well, she said she’d greatly appreciate your tutoring, Chenle.” Jisung sends a bright grin over to his friend. “And she happens to live right next door. I have a…friend coming over, so if you two wanna get started, I’ll be here.”

Jisung wants you dead, apparently.

Chenle’s cheeks get a slight pink hue to them. “Oh, I didn’t—you won’t be there, too?”

“The hell do I need physics help for? I’m a dance major.” Jisung shrugs. “You kids have fun.”

“I’m older than you.” Chenle narrows his eyes.

“Yeah, me too.” You cross your arms over your chest and glare at your friend.

“Besides the point. Now, you two go. I’ve got plans today.”

“I hope you know I’m gonna kill you. Bring a stranger into my house with no warning, what if it’s messy in there?”

“Maybe you should keep your place clean.” Jisung shrugs.

You sigh and face your new tutor. “Is that okay with you? We can reschedule for a different day if that works better for you.”

“No, no.” Chenle shakes his head. “We’re good. I guess I wasn’t expecting to—it doesn’t matter. Let’s go?”

His books are back under his arm, and he uses his other hand to tell you to go to the door first. You send one last glare at Jisung before you leave his apartment with Chenle in tow. You’ve met him all of three seconds, and now you’re bringing him into your house. Great.

“You go to the same school as Ji?” you ask as you step inside your own place.

He runs his fingers through his hair again but nods. “Yeah, but I met him over the summer. At—”

“You go to Jeju for the summer, too?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Not usually.”

“I didn’t see you there,” you say, and instantly, your face heats up. “Not that it’s weird, just an observation. I was only there for like, a week, and I would’ve remembered seeing you—”

You cut yourself off, scratching your forehead. He chuckles, the corner of his lips pulling upward slightly.

“I was only there for the last week Jisung was.” He pushes his glasses up and follows you into your kitchen. “He’s pretty cool.”

You snort. “He’s alright. I’ve known him my whole life, unfortunately.”

“Your parents are friends?”

“Best friends,” you tell him. “Not that anything has ever—or will ever happen between us. I legitimately want to knock him out. Maybe put him in a chokehold.”

“I was kinda surprised he didn’t have us stay over there,” Chenle mentions. “I thought he’d give us a little bit more of an introduction.”

“Ah, him bringing a friend over means he’s about to get laid, actually,” you say, going into your fridge to grab some snacks. “Don’t worry, we won’t hear anything. His room’s not against this wall.”

His eyes widen, and he blinks incredulously at you. “Are you serious?”

“Mhm.” You set the strawberries and the watermelon down on the counter and open the lids. “Surprised you didn’t pick up on that. Thought it was some guy-code talk.”

“I…” He pauses, scratching his forehead. “Maybe? I don’t really know.”

“Want some?” You slide the fruit over to him, and you almost laugh when you see how he seems to be floundering for words.

“Sure. Did…What did you want to study today?”

“To be honest, I don’t really want to at all.” You pop one of the strawberries in your mouth. “It might be better for us to get to know each other first. Because right now, you’re a strange man in my apartment. And I’m not very fond of strange men.”

Your satisfaction grows when the pink returns to his cheeks.

“Right, sorry. I’m Zhong Chenle, but I think Jisung told you that already. I’m a physics major, actually, and not to brag or anything, but I’m the top of my class. And I also…also really like music. Singing and writing it.” He purses his lips, and after a few moments, decides he’ll take you up on the offer of snacks.

“You’re insane for being a physics major, just so you know.” You lean forward on your counter, clasping your hands together. “Music is cool.”

His gaze dances all over your figure, but he hides it somewhat well. You barely notice.

“You?”

“Oh, I’m not all that interesting.” You chuckle. “I haven’t declared my major yet. Not really sure what I want to do.”

“I mean, I’m not sure what I’ll do with physics. I’ll probably have to get a Masters if I want to be anything useful.” His tongue darts out to wet his lips. He rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, and you find the awkwardness of all of it…endearing, maybe. You’ll keep going a bit longer.

“I see.” Intentionally being awkward is your forte. You’ll see how much he can handle. How much he’ll give back.

“We should at least do one chapter today,” he says after almost an entire minute of silence. “I told Jisung I would help. And if you push it back, there’s no guarantee you’ll do it.”

“Hm. Jisung is the only reason you want to tutor me?” You can’t help the smirk on your face. Nor can you ignore the way his face hasn’t lost the pink since he stepped foot in your apartment.

“I—I mean, yeah. No. Originally, yeah. He asked me to h—” he cuts himself off, a scoff escaping his lips. “I’m trying to be nice. I honestly don’t have a whole lot of friends outside of Jisung, either, so I guess he thought we could be good together. As friends, of course.”

Oh, let the games begin. This man wants to be your friend, and here you are, eyeing him up and down like he’s your next meal. Getting him flustered has all but unlocked a new portion of you you had no idea existed. Every guy you’ve ever dated has been your stereotypical jock, and certainly, none of them would’ve ever been able to tutor you. But the lack of confidence on Chenle’s part should be studied—how does he look like that and have no confidence? It astounds you.

“Of course,” you agree, biting into a piece of watermelon. “Fine. One chapter, but then you have to come with me to a party tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow’s Tuesday.”

“Yeah, and?”

“We have school on Wednesday.” He blinks at you, pure confusion behind those pretty brown eyes.

“Chenle,” you deadpan. “Letting loose for one night won’t ruin your GPA. I wouldn’t let you drink enough to be hung over.”

“I’ve never been drunk before.” He clears his throat. “Or been to a party. That sounds like a bad idea.”

“And if I promise to stay with you the whole night? I promise, parties are fun. And Jisung will be there. We won’t let anything happen to you.” You stand up straight and cross your arms over your chest. “Not to mention parties are a great place to make friends.”

“I’m not…great at that.”

“Oh, come on.” You glare at him. “I let you tutor me in physics—”

“Let me?”

“Yes, let. And I’ll tutor you on how to make friends. How to get out of your shell a little bit. I can’t pay you money for school help, so let me do this. It’s a good exchange.”

“I literally didn’t ask for anything in exchange, though.”

“It’ll make me feel better.”

He presses his lips into a thin line. “Fine. But if I really don’t want to do something, you can’t make me.”

“Dear God, obviously.” You scrunch your nose up. “Fear not, Chenle, I find consent sexy.”

His lips part, but you’re pretty sure you see him gulp. You put the lids back on the containers and set them back in the fridge, sending a smile his way once you’ve let him flounder enough.

“First step of making friends, be confident.” You point at him. “You’re pretty nice to look at. Get rid of the awkwardness and you’ll have people all over you.”

“Oh, great.” Sarcasm twinges in his tone. “What is this? One of those makeover projects?”

“No, of course not. I’m not changing anything about you. I never understood why they always take the glasses off in those movies. They suit you.” You shrug and walk over to him to look at the books he has.

Your arm brushes his, and he blinks at you. When he doesn’t move away, you smirk. At the end of the day, you don’t want to make him uncomfortable…at least not in a bad sense. But teasing him? If it continues to be this easy to fluster him, then you’ll have a great time with it.

“Shall we?”

He nods. “Um, are we studying in here?”

“There’s not really anywhere to sit. We can go in my room.”

“Your—(Y/N), I—”

“Relax, I’m not luring you into a trap, you weirdo. I’ll be on my bed and you can use the desk.” You gesture toward your door. “We’ll even leave it open.”

“You don’t live alone?”

“Nope, my roommate is at class right now. Not too sure when she’ll be back though, she spends a lot of time at her boyfriend’s house.” You walk toward your room, and he follows behind you.

“We’ll have to share the book, though.” He sets it down on the desk.

Seeing him in your room is odd, to say the least. Mostly because you just met him today, but also because he seems to fit. You sit on the edge of your bed, and with the lamp in the corner not quite bright enough to light up the whole area, it casts shadows on his face. He looks even prettier like this, and you suddenly regret bringing him in here.

“And…the light?”

You point to the wall. “There.”

“Alright, sit at the desk. I’ll stand.” He flicks the switch on and watches you closely as you get up to do as he asks.

“Are you sure? I feel bad making you stand.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassures you. “We can meet somewhere else next time. Or get another chair.”

And then he puts the book in front of you, opens it to the first chapter, and places his palm flat on it to keep it on that page. You’d attempt to ignore the way his hand looks, but the way the other one is placed behind you on the chair is a much more dangerous thought.

How Jisung knows exactly who would be your type is crazy. You hate him for it.

“Can you do a physics fun fact? Maybe it’ll make my life less miserable.” You look up at him and see the gentle smile on his face.

“Sure. We’ll do one every lesson. Let me think.” He ponders for a moment, pursing his lips. “Diamonds. They’re the hardest natural material on Earth, well, that we know of. But it has the lowest crystal packing fraction, meaning the atoms are the least densely packed.”

“That’s…physics?”

He shrugs. “Sure.”

“Huh. Alright, then. I feel like I should write that down.” You grab a notebook from your drawer and scribble down what he just said.

“You have pretty handwriting,” he mentions, a hum escaping his throat.

Leave it to you to have warmth spreading to your cheeks from a compliment on your handwriting.

“Oh, thanks.” You clear your throat and slide the notebook to the side. “Should we…learn, I guess?”

“Yeah, for sure.”

It takes an hour to get through the first chapter, but Chenle thoroughly explains it in a way that suddenly has you understanding the very basics. As much as you hate to admit it, Jisung was right. Chenle’s a damn good tutor.

“You caught on fast.” He nudges your arm.

“Well, you didn’t explain it like a decrepit old man who speaks at one word per hour.” You chuckle. “You’re easy to listen to.”

“Wow, your poor professor.”

“No, poor me, alright? He also stands with his elbows permanently glued to his sides. He looks like a T-rex.”

He laughs out loud at that one, reaching up to massage his forehead. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I know. Now you know why I suck at physics.”

“You don’t suck at it,” he defends you. “It takes time to learn. And…good teachers.”

It’s at this point that you realize he’ll be leaving. And that you’ve been making him stand for an hour, it’s almost dinner time, and he’s been incredibly kind (and not weird or impatient) the entire duration.

“Um, I’m really sorry about making you stand for so long. Can I buy you dinner? I feel bad for being a little bit of an ass earlier, too.” You push the chair back and climb to your feet. He’s close like this, and you still have to look up slightly to catch his gaze.

“Oh, I’m supposed to go somewhere with Jisung and our other friend, Mark. If you’re okay with it, you should come.” He must be more comfortable with you, too, because he hasn’t made a single move to back away from you.

“To be honest, new people kinda scare me. I have a max amount per day.”

He smiles. “That’s the most relatable thing you’ve said all day. No worries.”

“Rain check, though?”

“For sure. Did you want to set up another session?” he asks. “Whenever works for you, I can make it happen. I have class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, pretty much until 5pm, but other than that…depending on how much you need, I can do all the weekdays at like, 7pm, but I obviously wouldn’t stay super late. School’s important, and—”

“Seven is great. I’m gonna need a lot of help.” You stick your hands into your pockets. “And tomorrow? You’re still going?”

“A deal’s a deal.” He nods.

“Do you want to meet me here? Jisung’s going, too, so he can drive the three of us.”

“Sounds good.”

“Alright.”

“Yep.”

“Have a good time with your friends.”

“Have a good time…recharging.”

Silence cascades over the two of you once again, and this time, it’s broken by both of you cringing and laughing at yourselves. You walk him to your front door and then find yourself in a similar situation, only now you’re in the hallway of your apartment building.

It’s too awkward to say you want to hang out with him more, but it’s also too awkward to rush him out of the door.

“Oh,” you say, reaching into your pocket for your phone. “Do you want to exchange numbers? That way if there are any changes or something, we can reach each other.”

“For sure.”

You offer it to him with the contacts screen open, and he takes it from you. He quickly types his number in and hands it back to you. You start to say something, and then you notice Jisung out of the corner of your eye. Immediately, you snap your mouth shut and take a large step back from the man in front of you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gives you a small smile before walking toward Jisung, and without another moment of hesitation, you close your door and groan to yourself. Jisung will never let you hear the end of this. Good thing Chenle will most likely get a barrage of teasing today, because it might get it out of Jisung’s system by the time he’s around you again.

You’re finishing up your makeup in your bathroom when Jisung stops mid-sentence, perturbed by the knock sounding on the door. With your lip gloss on, you turn to Jisung.

“I need to go change. Can you get that? It’s Chenle.”

“It’s…I’m sorry, did you just say Chenle’s here?”

“Wow, you can hear with those big ass ears. I’m surprised.” You feign shock. “Yes, please let him in. And don’t be weird. It’s not what you think at all, so if you make him awkward, I’ll kill you.”

“What is happening?” he mutters to himself as you close your bedroom door to change.

The party isn’t a huge one, so you planned on going in a more relaxed outfit than you originally thought. You settle for a crop top, jeans, and boots. After you look at yourself in the mirror six times to make sure it looks fine, you leave your room to find Jisung and Chenle have barely made it a few feet inside your apartment.

Jisung’s back is to you, but Chenle faces you. It seems like he stops mid-conversation at the sight of you, and after Jisung turns to you as well, you pretend not to notice the other man’s gaze lingering on you.

“Three years later. Did you cut the shirt yourself?” Jisung grumbles.

“You’re ridiculous. Are you guys ready?”

“Wait, Chenle’s going?” Jisung glances between the two of you. “Like, for real?”

“Obviously. Why else would he be here?”

“You…invited him to a party. And he…said yes.”

“Sorry, Chenle, sometimes I have to repeat things seven times for him to understand me. Can we go?”

Jisung’s at a loss, which makes both you and Chenle chuckle. The car ride to the party is fairly short, but you let Chenle take the front seat, and you sit in the middle in the back. Leaning forward, you rest your elbows on the center console as you talk to the two men.

“You guys are hanging out at this party together?” Jisung asks.

“Now you’re just making it weird,” the other man mentions, pushing his glasses up. “She invited me. I wasn’t gonna say no.”

“I invite you places all the time.”

“Well, Sungs.” You pat his shoulder. “Should I point out the obvious differences? I’m more charismatic than you. And cuter.”

You grin to yourself at the plastering of pink on Chenle’s cheeks, and he averts his gaze out the window to avoid Jisung seeing.

You walk in front of them, essentially leading them into this house. Your friend throws these all the time, and you and Jisung are always on the invite list. Mostly because you’re a package deal at this point, but also because you’re pretty sure your friend has a crush on him.

“I’m gonna get a drink.” You head toward the kitchen, and when you glance back, Chenle is following behind you.

“Jisung found a girl, I think,” he explains. “Is it okay if I—”

“You think I’d leave you by yourself? You don’t even really want to be here. Of course, you can hang out with me.” You pause and wait for him to catch up, and then loop your arm through his.

He’s surprised at first but allows you to guide him through the crowd of people. There are several of your friends in the kitchen—Karina, Jaemin, and Renjun. They all light up at the sight of you, but then immediately catch where you’re attached to Chenle.

“Sorry, there’s more than one new person here for you.” You look back at him quickly. “They’re all nice, don’t worry.”

“I think I’ve met that one,” Chenle says. “Renjun, right?”

You beam at him. “Right. That’s good then.”

Chenle stands next to you on the opposite side of the kitchen island as you animatedly talk to your friends. You introduce him to them, explain how he’s your new tutor (Jisung sponsored), and that you thought it’d be cool for him to hang out with everyone. Your group is immediately welcoming, and soon enough, Jaemin offers to pour you guys each a drink.

You glance at Chenle. “You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to.”

“I never have.” He shrugs. “First time for everything, right?”

“Rum and Coke,” you tell Jaemin. “Go easy on the rum, though. We don’t want to be dragged out of here.”

Once the drinks are poured into the red cups, Jaemin hands them to the two of you. You sip yours, watching Chenle closely as he lifts it to his lips. Just like with that fucking water bottle yesterday, you can’t help but stare as he swallows the liquid, and you know damn well your friends are clocking this whole thing.

“Not bad,” he says.

“There’s barely any alcohol in it,” you tease him. “Did you want to go sit down? Jaemin’s selective about who’s allowed in the living room, so the couch will be open.”

“Selective?”

“Well, one time, this random couple hooked up on his old couch. Like, in front of everyone. It was crazy. But he also replaced that couch, so no need to worry about it being gross.” You laugh as Chenle’s jaw drops.

“People just…do that at parties?”

“Not typically in the middle of the party, but sometimes, yeah. But that doesn’t mean you have to, so don’t freak out.” You grab his wrist and lead him toward the couch, glad to see that the only other people in there are Jeno, Giselle, Jisung, and a girl you don’t recognize sitting on his lap.

“This is already a lot better,” Chenle murmurs, his breath brushing your ear as he leans down to tell you.

“Good,” you reply.

“Well, well, well.” Jisung clicks his tongue. “You were supposed to be a good influence on her, not let her poorly influence you.”

“There’s like, half a shot of rum in there.” You sneer at your best friend. 

“Whatever. Plan is working.”

You flip him off, and then you and Chenle take a seat opposite of everyone. He keeps a respectful distance from you and holds his cup with both hands, nervously glancing around.

“Don’t tell me you put Chenle in (Y/N)’s line of fire,” Giselle teases, grinning widely.

“You guys are gonna make him think I’m weird,” you complain. You touch Chenle’s arm. “I’m not evil, they’re just assholes.”

“I’m inclined to believe you, I think.” He shrugs. Attempting to hide the humorous gleam in his eyes, he takes another sip of his drink.

The night passes by somewhat quickly, and eventually, the whole group is in the living room, meaning no one is really paying attention to you and Chenle anymore. You’ve had enough to start feeling a buzz, and the way the pink on Chenle’s cheeks has become permanent tells you he might be a bit past that part himself.

“Maybe we should get some water,” you whisper to him. “Are you okay?”

He nods, and when he looks at you, you almost recoil at how close it makes you. Resting his head back on the cushion, he takes a deep breath. “This is nice. I’m not really stressed about anything right now.”

“Yeah, it happens like that.” You allow yourself a brief glance over the length of his throat, and the alcohol coursing through you has you wanting more than you’d ever admit out loud.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He lets out a sigh.

“If you want to, sure.” You nod.

“Think you’re really pretty.” He laughs, scrunching up his nose. “And talking to you is cool.”

“Well, if it helps at all, I think you’re pretty, too.” Your heart warms at the sight of him like this. You’ve known him just over twenty-four hours, but you knew he needed this—a way to relax and stop worrying about life. You’re not sure exactly what parts are stressing him out, but he needed to get away from them regardless.

“Thank you for not making that weird.” He scratches his forehead. “Maybe I should drink water.”

“Stay here, I’ll get it for you.” You set your cup down on the coffee table and go back into the kitchen.

As you’re grabbing two water bottles from the fridge, you’re joined by Jisung.

“You’re taking care of him now?”

“Relax. It’s a water bottle.” You shake your head. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure.”

“I’m surprised you came up for air. Breaking away from what’s-her-face must’ve been difficult.” You stop in the doorframe and sigh. “You were right, though. He’ll be a good friend.”

“That’s all I needed.” Jisung grins. “Both of you need more of those.”

“I take it back. We’re gonna fight outside.”

“I’d drop your ass and you know it,” your best friend jokes. “But try if you must.”

You make it back to Chenle, who gratefully accepts the bottle from you. When you sit, you don’t realize how much closer the two of you were from when you first sat down. There’d been a good foot of space between you guys, and now your thigh brushes his.

“Are you tired?” you ask him. “I can take you home.”

“Go…home. Like…with you?” His gaze drags over you, and your eyes widen.

“As in, I drop you off at your home, and then I go to mine.” You put your hand on his knee. “Are you alright?”

“I never told you the physics fun fact of the day.” He points at you. “The screens of smartphones work thanks to the electric charges leaving our fingers. But yours didn’t. ‘Cause you didn’t text me.”

“Did I leave you waiting?” You nudge him.

He nods. “Mhm. It’s not nice.”

“Alright, I’m sorry.” You bite back a smile. Who knew a somewhat tipsy man could be so fucking cute? “I’ll text you right now.”

You grab your phone and send him a message. It vibrates in his pocket.

“Oh, hold on. I think someone just texted me.” He grabs it and checks it, and then grins widely. “It was you.”

“It was me, yes.” You wave Jisung down, waiting until he’s close enough to hear you. “Can you take him home? It’s best if he’s done for tonight.”

“You’re staying?”

“For now, yeah. I had too much to drive him.”

“Sure. Is he coherent?” Jisung glances at the other man. “Hangover bets?”

“He won’t be hung over. He had like three drinks with barely any alcohol. Don’t tease him. Be nice and take him home. Make sure he actually makes it to his bed, okay?”

“Jeez, what are you, his mom?”

“My mom’s at home right now,” Chenle mutters.

“Yeah, I’ll make sure he’s okay.”

The next morning, you didn’t receive a message from Chenle. You were curious as to how he was feeling and if he’d been okay all night. And you thought about messaging him closer to seven when he was supposed to show up, but you decided not to. If he didn’t come at the scheduled time, you could do it then.

But he did.

He showed up with his textbooks in hand, and an apology for his actions on the tip of his tongue. You quickly brushed it under the rug—if anyone knows anything about drunk thoughts, it’s you. All discussion of the night before was done after that, and the two of you simply continued your tutoring.

Weeks later, it was 7:30pm on a Thursday, and you were sitting on your bed, your back against the wall and your arm pressed against Chenle’s. The physics book was open across both laps, and his soft voice guided you through whichever lesson you were on now.

“So, the universe is still growing?” you ask.

“Oh, yeah. Every second it’s expanding. It has been for billions of years and will continue on for another billion years after we’re gone.” His eyes widen as he shifts to get a better look at you. “Think about it. All those stars out there, the planets. We’re still discovering new ones almost every new place we unlock. This is my favorite part of physics—learning why everything is the way it is. Real explanations, and not just…talk.”

Those same stars he’s talking about? You’re pretty sure they’re scattered in his gaze, staring right back at you as he allows his passion to shine through.

“Chenle,” you say, pausing briefly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“You told me before you’ve never dated anyone. Why?”

“Oh.” He clears his throat. “I never really wanted to. I’m focused a lot on my schoolwork and stuff, I figured I wouldn’t have time. So, I just…didn’t. And let’s be honest here, it’s not like I had a whole lot of prospects, anyway.”

You stare at him with a raised brow before he returns the expression.

“What? I’m serious.”

“You’ve got to be joking. Like actually.”

“Come on, all I do is study. I don’t even really talk to anyone, so how would I have had any?” He sits up further and stretches, moving his glasses to rub his eyes.

“Well, now you do talk to people. Anyone you’ve been interested in?”

“I thought we were doing this to make me friends, not find me a girlfriend.” He presses his lips together. “Besides, I don’t have any time. I probably won’t until after I graduate.”

“Dude, you spend pretty much every night with me. That’s why you don’t have time. And being interested in someone doesn’t necessarily mean you have to date them.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Right, and so what does that interest even do, then?”

“I have to spell this out for you?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“I’m genuinely confused.”

“Hook up with someone. College is important, yeah, but have some fun.”

He laughs. “I don’t want that, either. We both know I don’t have the confidence for something like that, and it doesn’t sound all that appealing. Not that I judge people who do. I’m obviously friends with Jisung. And I genuinely wouldn’t have any clue how to handle that situation.”

“It’s very simple. You approach girl, flirt, make her laugh, dance a little, and then if she’s into you, you take her somewhere—”

“Not what I meant.”

Your jaw drops as realization hits you, and you slap your hand over your mouth. “Oh, my God, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think you’d—and now I’m being an asshole because I—dude.”

“Relax,” he says. “It’s not really a big deal. You didn’t mean anything by it, and if anything, it’s flattering you didn’t think that was a possibility.”

“Dear God, someone delete me from this Earth.” You glance up at the ceiling. “So, obviously, don’t hook up with random people if that’s not how you want to lose it. Is it one of those waiting til marriage things?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Just no opportunities have presented themselves that seemed worth it. In the past.”

“This is embarrassing. For me, not you.” You drop your head in your hands. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

He puts his hand on your shoulder. “You don’t make me uncomfortable. I wouldn’t have told you if that were the case. Let’s just stick to finding me friends for now, alright?”

“Of course, yeah. That makes sense.” You take a deep breath, pausing. “I’m getting hungry. Do you wanna go get some food?”

“Sure, sounds good. I’ll pay this time.”

“No, you won’t.” You poke his chest. “Nice try, though.”

You spring up from your bed, suddenly feeling as if the distance between him and your bedroom needs to be far greater than what it has been. Time to erase the last ten minutes from your memory and hope it doesn’t make absolutely everything weird between the two of you.

Everything was normal until the next Saturday. You don’t usually see Chenle on the weekends unless there’s a party you’re dragging him to. Today, you hoped to relax your brain and take a day for yourself, but the knock at your door decided otherwise.

You open it, and Chenle stands there, looking as if he’s about to be sick to his stomach. Recoiling, you step back to let him in, and he enters without a word.

“Are you okay?” you ask. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“I don’t want to be a virgin anymore.”

You flounder for words, unsure of how to handle this situation. “I thought you wanted a real opportunity—”

“Opportunities are made, aren’t they?” He wets his lips. “How do I…I don’t want to be fucking awful when I do find someone, okay?”

“Chenle, that’s a wild way to think of it. If you want to be with someone you love, and you’re in a relationship long enough to get to that point, the other person should be understanding—”

“It’s not a big deal. Societal constructs or whatever.”

“I…Okay. I’ll help you find someone.” Your brain whirls at the sudden switch, and you shift on your feet. “Are you sure?”

There’s a moment of silence, accompanied with him looking up at the ceiling briefly, as if there are words locked in his throat he desperately wants to let out. He curses under his breath and shakes his head.

“I don’t want someone random.”

“You have someone in mind?”

“This is so fucking embarrassing.” He laughs at himself and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t be weirded out by this. But I need to be with someone I trust, and you…you’re the only girl I trust.”

The shock hits you so hard, you’re almost knocked off balance. You knew Chenle had gotten more comfortable with you, but this stretches a bit beyond that. And before you knew he was a virgin, you wouldn’t have said no to hooking up with him.

“Me.” You gulp. “You want…to have sex with me.”

“Okay, now it’s weird.” His fists clench at his sides and he avoids your gaze. “Forget I came by, okay? I’m sorry that was so weird, we can just never talk about it again, and I’ll keep…being me, and—”

“Slow down, please.” You card your fingers through your hair and try to force the shock away. “I didn’t even respond. Give me like three seconds to wrap my head around it.”

He nods in response, staring down at his feet.

“So, you…you trust me. And because of that, you want me to take your virginity?” You’re still not completely caught up.

“Yeah, it sounded better in my head, I think.”

“Is that the only reason you want me instead of someone else?” you ask.

“What do you mean by that?” He plays with the bottom hem of his T-shirt. “But you’re not—it’s not like that. I trust you. We both know I think you’re pretty. I’ve learned a lot of…things from you, and I thought that maybe we could—”

“You want sex lessons.”

“Can you—My God, please don’t say it like that.” He cringes.

“It’s not weird,” you reassure him. “I didn’t expect this. At all, clearly. Um, I need a little bit of time to think about it.”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t want things to change with us because you’re really a great person, and I…You know I won’t be mad at you or anything if you say no. I get it.”

“I didn’t think you would be.” You pause. “I’ll give you an answer tomorrow. I need to process a little more.”

“Of course. Thank you. Either way.”

More silence.

“Um, did you know that sound waves could heat up cold soup?”

The awkwardness swarming the two of you shatters as you laugh. “You’re ridiculous. Truly the only man I know that’ll proposition sex in one sentence and then move on to fucking physics.”

“Icebreakers. They work wonders.” He shrugs.

If it was possible for your brain to be on one topic for an entire twenty-four hours, that’s exactly what happened to you. When the topic first came up, Chenle seemed like he wanted someone special to share the moment with. Now, he wants to get it out of the way. And he wants your help. If he regrets it, there’s literally nothing you’ll be able to do to change that. And you’d undeniably been attracted to him from the moment you saw him, but that doesn’t mean this was the best way to go about this. He trusts you. He said that with his whole chest, and you’re not sure if that’s the entire reason. So you came up with some stipulations, and if any of them are a no for him, then you won’t do it. You’re about as nervous as he was when he came over to ask you, but you text him and tell him to come over. When he sits next to you on your couch, you fidget with your hands in your lap. You don’t know exactly how to just say it.

“Before I make my decision, there are a few things you’d have to be okay with.” You clear your throat, and you watch realization dawn on his face.

“Okay. What is it?” he asks.

“First, I’m clean and on birth control, so protection is up to you whether or not you want to use it. But it’s a good habit to start, obviously. For when you…eventually hook up with other people, too.”

He gulps. “That makes sense.”

“We don’t tell Jisung.”

“I think he’d kill me if he knew, anyway.” He grips his thighs tightly, fingers digging into the fabric of his jeans.

“If I do something or ask you to do something you don’t want to do, tell me. I would never get mad at you for telling me no, okay?”

“Same would go to you.”

“If you were to ever…find that you’re falling for me, or catching feelings, you have to tell me. And we’ll stop.” You analyze him closely, waiting for any change in his face.

He chews on his bottom lip, but ends up nodding.

“You still have to tutor me in physics. And if things get too awkward and I fail, I’ll kill you.”

That one makes him laugh, and his grip on his legs relaxes. “I won’t let you fail.”

“We’ll still be friends after this?” you inquire. “Like, we’re not gonna do this and then you’ll fall off the face of the Earth or anything?”

“It’s—”

“Don’t tell me it’s impossible. Just answer the question.”

He gives you a soft smile. “I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

With that, you stand up and hold out your hand. He stares blankly at you, lips slightly open as he tries to figure out what you’re trying to do.

“No better time than the present.”

“Oh, we…you…we’re gonna do this now?” He stands up.

“We don’t have to. Let’s see where it goes.” You grab his hand and tilt your head at him. “If you’re okay with that.”

“It’s just…I’d want to get condoms, and I didn’t bring any because I thought this was going in a completely different direction—”

“I have some.”

“You…” He wets his lips. “Okay, yeah. Let’s, um, see where it goes.”

Chenle allows you to guide him into your room, and then he’s sitting on the edge of your bed. Giving yourself one more mental pep talk, you straddle his lap, not quite sitting all the way down yet. His breath hitches, and his fists clench at his sides.

“Relax,” you whisper. “You know I’ll take care of you. You can touch me.”

He hesitantly lifts his hands up to find your waist, barely gripping you while refusing to break eye contact.

“Have you ever kissed someone before?” you ask, unable to hide how closely you’re staring at his parted lips.

“Not recently,” he responds. “Probably not one that counts.”

“Follow my lead, okay? And you can stop me at any point if you want to.”

You adjust yourself and sink down on his lap. He’s already half hard, the firmness of his length pressing into your core.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “It’s…”

“Don’t apologize.” You chuckle, almost breathlessly. “That’s what’s supposed to happen.”

He scoffs at you, his pointed look does well in breaking the awkward tension between the two of you. You cup his cheek, eyes trailing over his face as you trace his bottom lip with your thumb.

He watches you through a curious, almost hazy gaze. Like he’s admiring you with him like this. Swallowing the rest of your nerves, you lean forward and press your mouth to his. He inhales sharply, his fingers gripping your shirt. The movement is awkward, and he doesn’t reciprocate right away.

“Chenle,” you say. “I said follow my lead. You have to…move your lips a little.”

“Sorry, it’s new—”

“Stop apologizing. There’s nothing wrong with any of it. Just listen and learn.”

He nods, and you return to kiss him. This time, he matches your movements, and that’s when you realize just how fast of a learner he is. You reach up to weave your fingers into his hair. He gasps, pulling away to look at you. Your lip gloss shines on his lips, and you’re certain that a new part of yourself has been unlocked.

“You’re…so pretty.” His voice strains.

“What do you want?” you ask.

“You.” He gulps. “I-if that’s okay.”

“Have you thought about this before?” You trace along his jawline. “Me?”

He sucks in a breath. “I didn’t mean to. At first. And then you…we talked about hooking up with people, and all I could see was you.”

“What kind of thoughts, Chenle?” While all you want to do is keep kissing him, you move your lips down from his jaw to his neck.

“(Y/N), I—”

“If you want to do this, you have to stop being scared of saying the wrong thing,” you hum, and when you find his pulse thrumming beneath your lips, you gently bite down.

“Fuck,” he chokes out. “I-I’ve seen enough porn, okay? I don’t usually think about people I know like that, but I’ve imagined what you’d feel like.”

The desperate twinge to his voice has you wishing you could clench your thighs together. You don’t want to do too much right off the bat, but he’s fully hard beneath you now, pressing directly into your core. Despite your own slight embarrassment, you allow your lips to brush his ear.

“Do you touch yourself to those thoughts?”

His grip tightens again, and his pants nearly turn into whines. “Yes.”

“I think we should slow down,” you tell him. “Don’t wanna overwhelm you.”

He sighs when you lift yourself off his lap. You take your usual spot against the wall and pat the bed next to you, and he joins you without hesitation. When you lean in to kiss him, he quickly reciprocates. You’re surprised by how fast he caught on to the movement, because the kiss is nothing but enjoyable for you.

“Can I touch you?” you ask, tapping your fingers on his upper thigh.

He nods fervently, but quickly pulls you back into a kiss. You smile against his lips before popping the button on his jeans. He curses quietly at the sound of you pulling his zipper down. You push down on them, and he lifts his hips to assist you. Pausing the kiss, you look down at where he strains in his boxers.

“It’s not gonna take very long.” He lets out a weak laugh. “Don’t wanna make a mess.”

“Let me worry about that,” you tell him.

You pull back for a split second to look at his face, finding lust waltzing around in his irises. He either can’t hide it or doesn’t want to, but you have him wrapped around your finger. His lips are swollen from kissing you, and he’s never been more attractive to you. Your thighs clench together, and the warmth between them is undeniable.

“You sure?” you whisper.

He nods, and you go back for another kiss in an attempt to distract him from you pulling at the hem of his boxers. The sound that escapes from his mouth into yours sends a shiver up your spine. God, the things you’d do to him if it wouldn’t melt his brain. You trail your finger up his length, collecting some of the precum from his tip.

He curses but doesn’t break the kiss, his hand now tightly gripping your thigh. His touch sends sparks through you, and you wrap your hand around him.

You stroke him up and down, grinning into the kiss when you feel how he pulses against your palm. He struggles to keep his focus on kissing you the longer you slowly pump his cock. You sink your teeth into his bottom lip, gently tugging it as you rub your thumb across his tip. A long moan escapes his mouth, and his head thuds back against the wall, and within seconds strings of white pump from him.

You catch as much of it as you can in your hand and kiss him again to quiet him down. This exchange is softer, slower than your previous, and he all but melts into you as he attempts to calm his breathing.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I—”

“Don’t apologize.” You slide away from him to grab a towel from your closet. “That was the whole reason I did it.”

You won’t tell him how weak your legs are and how bad you want his hands all over you, considering it’s very likely he wouldn’t know what to do with you anyway. As soon as your hand is cleaned off, you come back to find him zipping and buttoning his pants.

“Can I ask you something?” He chews the inside of his cheek.

“Chenle, my hand was just on your penis. Of course, you can ask me anything.” You chuckle at him.

“Did that…do anything to you? Are you turned on?”

Embarrassment replaces the heat already on your cheeks as you turn to him. “I mean, yeah. But that’s a good thing, obviously.”

“You don’t want me to help you?”

For the thousandth time this weekend, you’re floundering for words in his presence, but you can’t deny how much you do, indeed, want that. You figured he’d not even think about it, leave, and then you could just take care of yourself instead.

“I…”

“If not, that’s okay. But I didn’t want to learn how it felt for just me, you know.” He shifts to the edge of the bed and holds his hand out to you. “C’mon. Show me how to help you. Besides, I definitely owe you now.”

“Okay.” You step toward him and slide your palm on his, gasping when he tugs you into him.

He moves to place your back against the mattress, your head hitting the pillows. Hovering over you, he allows his gaze to travel down to your mouth. You spread your legs to accommodate him, grabbing his hand and placing it on your thigh.

“You could say I’ve…studied this part a little.” He wets his lips. “But I don’t hold too much stock in that stuff being real, so…”

You chuckle. “That’s good. Porn is very unrealistic.”

“How do you want me to do this?” he asks. “Um, I can use my hand or if you want oral, that’s…yeah.”

“Let’s make sure you’re good with your hands first, alright?” You weave your fingers through his hair and rub your thumb against his scalp.

“I want you to feel good, too.” He furrows his eyebrows as if he’s trying to figure something out. When he leans down, he brushes his lips against your jawline, mimicking the way you kissed his neck earlier.

“Chenle,” you whisper, letting your head fall back against the pillow. “Come lay next to me.”

He listens to you quickly, making sure your back is flat against his chest. His arm is snug around your waist as he brushes your hair out of the way to leave wet, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. You skin buzzes everywhere he touches you.

“Don’t be afraid of me, okay?” you tell him. “Foreplay is the most important part of sex for a girl. It’s harder for us to finish, so you’ve gotta…be deliberate.”

“Mhm,” he hums, squeezing your hip.

“You can explore.”

“Show me where.” He most likely meant it to make sure he doesn’t do anything you don’t want him to, but as you place your hand over his to guide him, more warmth spreads between your thighs. You slide him beneath your shirt, slowly moving him over your skin.

“You’re so warm.” He kisses your shoulder. “Soft.”

You stop at your breasts, a soft moan escaping you as you have him squeeze. Your head falls against his chest, and you bite your lip as you move him beneath your bra. He whispers a curse, and you can’t stop yourself from squirming against him.

You move your hand away from his, and he moves to your other breast. His thumb brushes over your nipple, and your eyes nearly roll back into your head. Sure, you told him what to do, but the feeling of his fucking hands on you has your fantasies running wild.

“Was that okay?” he asks.

You nod and tug on his wrist. “Now, when you really start, you have to make sure whoever you’re with is wet. If she’s really wet, it’ll feel better for both of you.”

“How will I know the difference between—”

“Touch me.” You push him toward the apex of your thighs. “That’s what really wet feels like.”

He slides his hand beneath your shorts. “(Y/N), I don’t…I don’t know how—”

“It’s okay,” you say, putting your palm on him again. “I’ll show you.”

He cups your core and gently rubs back and forth. “Doesn’t this ruin your panties?”

“Precisely why I try to take them off as quickly as possible in these situations, smart ass.” You scoff. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’ll get messy.”

“You caught my cum in your hand. It’s the least I can do.” He shifts down a bit and waits for you to look at him so he can kiss you. In the midst of the kiss, you move him beneath your panties. He lets out a shaky sigh when he feels the wetness against his skin.

“Few, um, key things going on here,” you tell him. You position his fingers over your clit. “This is the clit. Don’t ever forget that. It’s arguably the most important thing on my body. In…this case, I mean.”

“Mhm.” His breathing is uneven against your neck, but he listens intently.

You move further down to your entrance. “This is where you’re gonna put those pretty fingers to use, okay?”

“You’re so wet,” he comments, his forehead dropping on your shoulder. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

You pull him back to your clit. “Start here. Don’t be a psycho. Going slow is good until she tells you to hurry the fuck up.”

“Stop saying it like that,” he says, allowing you to move him in whatever way will make you feel good. 

“Like what?” you ask, your hips unintentionally grinding down on his fingertips.

“She. I’m with you right now. Only wanna think about you.” He clicks his tongue. “I got it now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You move your hand away from his, sighing as he continues his circles. “When you put your fingers in, use your thumb to keep rubbing the clit.”

“Is it normal that I really feel like I might cum in my pants?” He chuckles.

“Considering this is your first time touching a real vagina, yes.”

He slides his fingers inside you, the length of them alone making your eyes roll back. When you moan, he lets out a similar sound, his hips pushing against your ass. You close your eyes, truly not expecting much out of him in the slightest. You’ll probably have to remind him—

His thumb finds your clit as he starts pumping his fingers inside you, and your back arches from the pleasure. You’re desperate to finish from getting him off earlier, and you start to believe he might just get you there.

“If it’s…it’s this tight with my fingers, how does…good fucking God, (Y/N), you’re fucking perfect.” He picks up his speed a little, and you feel that knot tying deep in your stomach.

“Whatever you do, don’t fucking change anything,” you practically whimper the words out, rocking your hips in time with his hand. Your walls clamp down on his fingers, and you let out a loud moan, your nails digging into his wrist as he continues his work between your legs.

Once overstimulation sets in, you close your thighs around him until he gets the hint that you’re done. He gently removes himself from your panties and settles your shorts back in the proper spot. You pant while he kisses your neck.

“I feel like everything makes sense now,” he mutters.

“What do you mean?”

“Why people are so obsessed with sex. I get it.”

“You haven’t even had sex yet.” You chuckle and turn toward him. “Um, you can stay if you want to, but don’t feel like you have to. I know you have class tomorrow.”

“I definitely would, but I for sure came in my pants. So I’ve gotta go home and change.” He pauses and wets his lips. “If you come with me, you could stay at mine.”

“Chenle, that…” you trail off with a sigh. “That sounds like we’d be crossing a friendship line, you know?”

“Oh. Yeah, of course. Don’t even worry about it, I don’t know what’s normal in these situations, so I’ll…just go home. And I’ll see you tomorrow, right? Normal time?” His cheeks are stained pink as he lifts himself off your mattress.

You nod, frowning to yourself—you don’t want him to leave. You want him to lay next to you all night, and no part of that sounds like a good idea.

“Have a good night, Chenle.” You clasp your hands together in your lap.

“You, too.” And then he’s gone, and you fall back against your mattress.

You won’t get him out of your brain any time soon, but at the very least, you hope it’s not going to make everything awkward between the two of you. He wanted lessons, plural, so you can only think that means he’ll want to have real sex. More than once.

You grab your pillow and put it over your face, screaming into it.

This, you fear, is only the beginning.

“Chenle, it’s been two hours. Please put the book down. I can’t think anymore today.” You rest your head back on the wall.

“You’ve got a test coming up,” he mentions as he gives you a pointed look. “If you don’t do well, that’s a direct reflection on me.”

“Mm, no. I think it’s a reflection of me not being able to shove all of this in my brain.” You drop your head in your hands.

He stops for a moment, and then ultimately decides to close the book. “Maybe I should come earlier tomorrow?”

Without another thought, you rest your head on his shoulder and sigh. He tenses for a brief second, but quickly relaxes. Neither of you are quite used to the physical affection aspect, but after last night, you’re not too sure you have to hold back anymore.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“My brain hurts.”

“I’m serious.”

“Me, too,” you reassure him. “If there was something wrong, I’d tell you.”

“C’mere.” He wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer to him, all before resting his head on top of yours.

You shouldn’t enjoy it. In fact, you should be encouraging him to do the exact opposite of this, but, for some reason, you crave his comfort. Your day was unnaturally long, and with a test coming up, you need all of the support you can get.

“I know I’m not Jisung, but you can talk to me about anything, you know.” His voice rumbles quietly, and he reaches up to play with your hair.

“We shouldn’t be this close right now,” you say.

“I know.” He sighs.

Your heart twists in your chest. Both of you are fully aware of what all of this could mean—of the risk you’re taking by opening up a connection like this—but at the same time, neither of you are moving to change it.

“And it’d…be wrong to kiss you, wouldn’t it?” Chenle taps his fingers on your arm. “Because we only do that during…I don’t know, whatever you want to call them. Lessons?”

Fuck, you want to kiss him, too.

“I…I think we make the rules.” You lift your head to lean toward him. “Besides, maybe you could use another lesson. Do you want that?”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he admits. “But I don’t want you to think that’s all I’m doing here.”

You close the distance, pressing your lips to his. He puts his hand on the back of your head and sighs into your kiss. You shift closer to him. With your full attention on him, you drag you hand down his chest, down, down, down—

Your front door opening sends the two of you flying apart, and you curse under your breath. Chenle gets up from your bed, but not without kissing you one last time. You hate how fucking giddy it makes you feel.

“(Y/N), are you asleep with your lights on?” Jisung’s voice carries from the living room.

“It’s almost 10 o’clock,” Chenle mutters to you.

The two of you walk out together, and Jisung glances between you and Chenle, then down at his phone to look at the time.

“Chenle’s still here.”

“Yeah, we were studying. I have a test on Friday.” You cross your arms over your chest. “I think we fell asleep for a little bit.”

“Huh.”

“I was actually just leaving.” He almost reaches out to touch you, but opts against it and nods at you instead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You watch Chenle leave, and you know you’re in for a long conversation with Jisung. Rubbing your eyes, you head into your kitchen to get some water, and as soon as you take a sip, of course, Jisung opens his mouth.

“I think he’s a virgin.”

You nearly spit out your water. “What the fuck, Sungs?”

“Just in case you were thinking about doing anything with him.”

“First of all, why would him being a virgin matter? And second of all, why are you even thinking of me thinking about wanting to do something with him?”

Jisung looks you up and down. “You fell asleep, huh?”

“What?”

“Dude, look at you. Your hair’s messy, it looks like you spent an hour biting his lips, be so for real right now.” He scoffs and shakes his head. “Just be gentle with him when you break his heart. I like him.”

“I’m not—Jisung, for the love of God, I don’t plan on banging him.”

“You’re such a liar. I know you too well. But I’ll let you live in your land of delusion.”

When you passed your exam (with flying colors), you hadn’t expected Chenle to show up to your house that weekend. He showed up with Thai food, a bottle of wine, and a smile to rival the entire sky full of stars outside your window.

“You passed.”

“What’s all this for?” You chuckle as you close the door behind him before following him into your kitchen. “It was just a test.”

“Just a test,” he tsks, narrowing his eyes at you. “You’ve been studying for it for weeks.”

“If you’re gonna drink, I’m not letting you drive home,” you say.

He turns to your cabinet and grabs out a couple wine glasses. “Is that okay with you?”

You nod, opening the bag he brought. Somehow, he’d gotten so comfortable here in your apartment that he was aware where you kept things. He knew what kind of Thai food you like, and if you were to taste it right now, you’d be willing to bet he knew the exact spice level you liked. He hasn’t acted weird at all since last weekend, and you’re beginning to wonder if you’re the problem. If the only reason all of these things are ‘weird’ because you’re making them that way. He seems perfectly content living whatever way the two of you have been for months now.

“Are you okay?” he asks as he fills the glasses with red liquid.

“Yeah, of course.” You accept one from him and bring it up to your lips. “Are you—Did you know you know where everything is in my apartment?”

He chuckles and scrunches his nose. “I wouldn’t say I know where everything is. But we study here all the time, so I think it’s natural to learn those things. Plus, I’m a fast learner.”

His words take you right back to last week, to him being in your bed with you, and you know damn well he’s right. Fast learner, indeed.

“I…I didn’t ask if I could do all of this, though.” Realization dawns on him as he takes in everything sprawled out on the counter. “I’m sorry, I should’ve. Honestly, I was just proud of you for passing because you’ve been working so hard. I never would do something with the intention of—”

“You ramble when you’re nervous.” You tilt your head at him.

“Long story short, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you tell him, putting your hand on his. “It’s sweet. I appreciate it, really.”

The two of you share normal, everyday conversation while you eat, and thankfully, the awkwardness fades away. You two easily finish the bottle of wine, and once you’re both done, you’re exhausted.

“You can stay with me,” you tell him. “Unless you’d be more comfortable on the couch.”

He shakes his head and follows you into your bedroom. Considering how much time he spends in there, you expect it to feel more natural to crawl into bed with him. The gentle buzz of the wine in your veins calms you, but when he’s finally next to you and you’re curling into his chest, you fear even that can’t save you from the inherent danger of the situation you’re putting yourself in.

You’ll never forget the look on his face when he first sees you naked. Nor will you forget the power it sent raging through your bloodstream. You’re straddling his lap, your mouth gently working on his as his hands explore over your back.

“Are you sure?” you ask breathlessly. “This isn’t something you can take back, you know.”

“I trust you completely. I want you.” Chenle nods as he drags his nails gently along your bare skin.

You grab the condom wrapper next to you and open it, your heart pounding in your chest as you roll it on him. His breath catches in his throat as you grip him to line him up with your entrance.

“Okay. We’re gonna do this.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He grips your hips to stop you from moving. “Don’t do this if you’re gonna regret it, (Y/N).”

“Like I could ever regret anything I do with you.” Humor laces in your tone, but he seems to understand it’s not a joke.

“Okay,” he whispers, loosening his hold on you.

You sink down slowly so as to not overwhelm him. His lips part and his brows furrow as you take him deeper. You stop to give yourself a second to adjust. The look on his face has shivers running up and down your spine, and all you want to do is move.

“This is…” he trails off, gulping.

“What?” You’re finally completely seated on his lap, gasps escaping you as you fight every urge inside you. “What is this, Lele?”

You’re halfway certain you see his eyes roll.

“I’ve never felt anything like this before,” he mutters and rubs up and down your thigh. “You…fuck, this feels…good.”

“I’m gonna start moving, okay?”

“Please.”

You watch closely as you lift up and slide back down, refusing to let your eyes flutter shut for even a moment. He inhales sharply through his teeth. It’s been a good amount of time since you’ve done this, and something about knowing the man beneath you is Chenle spurs you further.

He bites down hard on his bottom lip, digging his nails into you. “I—I can’t—”

“Don’t hold back for me,” you scold him. “It’s okay to cum first.”

“Too fast.” He shakes his head, his words practically slurred together. “You’re more important.”

“Do you know how unlikely it is that I’ll cum first in, like, the first few times—”

“You arguing is helping a little bit.” His gaze flicks up to the ceiling and then down to where the two of you are connected. “Or not. Fuck.”

“Worry about feeling it first before you think about stamina.” You roll your hips, smirking as he inhales sharply.

“I am…feeling a whole lot of things right now.” He allows his touch to trail down to your ass. When he squeezes, it causes you to lift up, and the friction has his head falling back against the wall with a thud.

“Good God, be careful,” you scold him.

“To be honest, I’m not too worried about this head.” He lets out a breathless laugh. “I’m good. You can move.”

“You can stop me if it’s too much,” you remind him.

He nods, chewing on his bottom lip as he waits for you to continue. You’re almost embarrassed by the sounds of your wetness when you lift up, but seeing him clench his jaw and the slightest eye roll puts you on a little bit of a power trip. You set a steady but slow pace, biting back your own moans so you can pay attention to him. It’s like a whine leaves his mouth every time your walls take him completely.

You pull him back to you so your chest presses against his and you wrap your arms over his shoulders. He leans in to kiss you without hesitation, his lips slotting against yours perfectly. You swipe your tongue along his bottom lip, and his moan allows you entrance. That sound turns into a whine, and you know he’s close. He desperately reaches between the two of you, his thumb swiping over your clit. The shock from the move has your back arching, and your walls squeeze around his cock.

His hips jolt up, slamming his tip deep inside you as his face contorts in pleasure. With his nails digging into your thighs, he pants, chest heaving.

“God damn it,” he groans.

“I’ve never seen anyone so upset about cumming.”

“I feel like I’m already behind. The least I can do is be good at it.” He runs his hands down his face. “You didn’t even—”

“This isn’t about me,” you remind him.

He frowns. “Uh, yes it is. I’m literally inside you right now. That means it’s definitely about you, too.”

“Lele, relax. You’ll get better with time.” You press a kiss to his cheek and shakily lift yourself off him.

He catches you off guard by pulling you back, and the next thing you know, your back is against your mattress, and his fingers trace shapes on your thighs.

“Haven’t you learned how competitive I am yet?” He runs his tongue over his teeth. “Can I?”

You’re not a hundred percent sure exactly what he’s referring to, but you nod anyway. When he kisses you, it’s soft and sweet, almost distracting enough to make it hard for you to realize how close his fingers dance to your core.

“One day you’ll cum with me inside you,” he whispers into your mouth. “The fucking lengths I’d go to.”

He wastes no time in sliding two fingers in. Your back arches into him, and you hold the back of his head to keep his lips on yours.  He didn’t lie when he said he was a fast learner—you told him how to make sure you feel good too one time and he fucking ran with it. With his thumb on your clit, he kisses down your neck. You have no idea what’s happening to you, but you’ve never been like this with anyone. Maybe it’s because you trust him, too.

His lips wrap around your nipple and the world comes crashing down around you as pleasure sparks over your skin. You gasp and dig your nails into his skin. When your senses come back, he’s pulling his fingers out of you and moving up to kiss you again, the softness of his movements making you sigh all over again.

“(Y/N), I think I—” he cuts himself off, wetting his lips.

Your heart stops in your chest when you hear his tone, and half of you wants to ask him to continue. The other knows damn well you shouldn’t.

“I…don’t really know what to do with the condom.”

You can’t stop yourself from laughing, but you tell him the proper disposal method. When he comes back, he pulls your comforter back and helps you under it before climbing in next to you.

“Is it okay if I stay?” he asks softly. “If it’s weird, I can go.”

“Don’t.” You shake your head, shuffling closer. “It feels right.”

“Yeah, it does.” His voice is so soft, you barely hear it. He presses his lips to the top of your head, leaving them there for a moment longer than necessary, and then he inhales deeply. You drift off to sleep before you fully feel him exhale.

Despite the obvious, you hadn’t expected Chenle to be completely normal in all other circumstances. He hasn’t touched you excessively in front of other people. When you’re focusing on studying, he doesn’t try to make a move on you. Over the course of two weeks, you’d spent most of those nights with him, teaching him all there is to know about female anatomy.

He didn’t lie about being a fast learner. You find yourself looking forward to the moments where you’re alone with him, where you get to be tangled up in sheets and forget the rest of the world exists.

There have been a few times where he’d gotten you close to finishing first, but much to his frustration, he still couldn’t hold back.

You’d convinced him to go to Jaemin’s party while he was in the middle of kissing your neck. And as a thank you, you’d shown him the wonders of a blowjob. By the time he’s ready for a relationship, you’re sure he’ll have nothing to worry about.

Except, you do. Because the thought of him dating someone else after spending this time with you has an unsettling feeling stirring in your stomach.

You ignore it the best way you know how—by talking to someone else you’ll pretend to entertain. Sitting between Jeno and Chenle’s friend Mark, you laugh along to whatever they’re talking about. Truth be told, you have no fucking clue what that may be, but they’re encouraged by you.

Chenle sits across from you, trying his best not to stare. He nurses his drink and talks to Jisung, but his attention is never truly off you. The second Jeno’s hand comes in contact with your thigh, Chenle abruptly stands from his seat and practically stomps out without a word to anyone.

You frown at Jisung, who shrugs. He’s not much help after he’s been drinking. With a sigh, you get up and follow him wherever he may have gone. You see the top of his head as he makes his way toward the door through the crowd.

He makes it outside and down the porch steps before you catch up to him and grab his wrist.

“Let me go.” His voice is colder than you’ve ever heard it.

“What the hell is your problem?” you snap.

He whirls around, eyes wide and full of something you can’t make out. “I get you can still do whatever—whoever—you want, but right in front of me? Do you have any idea how fucking—God, it’s embarrassing.”

“Oh, now you’re embarrassed of me?” You scoff.

“Not for you. For me.” He most likely has no clue he’s shouting, but his breath leaves a frigid cloud in the air. “Am I not good enough for you?”

“Chenle, keep your fucking voice down,” you hiss.

He sucks in a shaky breath. “How? I—I don’t know how to handle any of this. We agreed it doesn’t…mean much, but doesn’t it fucking mean something?”

Your heart trembles in your chest, and you gulp. How do you respond to that? Of course, it means something, but what that is, you’re unsure of. How do you tell him that?

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he asks, exasperated.

You recoil, frowning as you take him in.

“Go ahead and fuck Jeno, (Y/N). It’s not my business, right? I have no reason to be upset. At the very least, just act like you care about me a little bit, alright? I don’t want to see you…want someone else.”

“I do care,” you say quickly, grabbing his wrist. “It’s not like that, okay?”

“So, what is it?” he breathes out, a short laugh escaping his throat. “Are you tired of teaching me? You want someone who’s better?”

“Stop.”

“What the hell else am I supposed to think? Will I ever be enough for you—”

“I said stop.” You don’t mean to yell, not really, but as soon as the words leave your mouth, you slap a hand over it.

Chenle flinches, realization quickly dawning on his face. “I’m sorry. God, I don’t know what the fuck that was, and it’s definitely not my place to tell you—”

“Just stop,” you say weakly, blinking back the tears welling in your eyes. “Don’t do this to me.”

“Fuck, don’t cry. Please.” He steps forward and wraps his arms around you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of that shit. You don’t owe me anything, okay? We both know that and we both know you’re doing me a fucking favor, so I’m gonna be better, I promise. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

“Maybe we should stop.” You wipe at your eyes.

“What? Why?”

“I don’t think you’re being honest with me, Lele.” You sniffle. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“(Y/N), I—I’m drunk, for fuck’s sake. And, yeah, I’m a fucking idiot who tried to…control you and what you do with your body, and that’s so messed up. I’m really sorry for that. But honestly, it’s pride and ego. It felt like I wasn’t…like I don’t give you what you need, so you’ve gotta find it from someone else. That’s all.”

“I wanna go home.”

“Okay, we can go—”

“You need to go home, too.” You look down at your feet. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay with me tonight.”

“Don’t do this—”

“It’s one night. You need to respect what I’m asking for.”

He stares at you with wide, concerned eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I think you should go back in there with Jisung, and he’ll make sure you get home in one piece.”

“(Y/N)...”

“Goodnight, Chenle.”

Being alone in your house makes you regret your decision to send him home. You barely drank at all, so you can’t blame any of your emotions on the alcohol content in your bloodstream. God, how do you describe what the fuck is going on inside you?

Chenle keeps his distance from you for a few days. You and Jisung are splitting some drinks in his apartment when he decides to bring it up, analyzing you for your reaction as he speaks.

“Did something happen with you and Chenle?”

“Why do you think that?” You take a giant sip of your drink, cringing at the taste.

“Don’t do that. I was being nice. I know something happened because I saw you guys argue outside the party, and he’s been a miserable lump for four days now.” Jisung crosses his arms over his chest. “You hurt his feelings.” 

“I don’t want to talk about Chenle.”

“And what if you fail physics, dude?”

“Jisung, fuck physics.” You drop your head into your palms. “I invited you over to drink and not think about the real world. So if you’re going to bring him up, please just go home.”

“Oh.” Jisung pauses, slowly leaning forward until his elbows are braced on his knees. “(Y/N).”

“No, Jisung. No. I just…want peace, okay? I can’t do this right now.” You shake your head.

“Alright.” Jisung stands. “I’ll leave you alone. But we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

You don’t say a word as he leaves, but you do chug the rest of what’s in your can. Chenle hasn’t so much as texted you. Why would you want to talk about him? Doesn’t Jisung know how royally fucked everything is between the two of you. Instead of going to bed like you should, you sit on your couch and stare up at your ceiling, occasionally pausing to take a sip of the new drink you opened. By the time your door opens again, you think you’re dreaming. You see Chenle in front of you, and in your hazy mind, you want nothing more than to touch his ethereal, angelic face.

“Hey,” he whispers. “Are you okay?”

You groan, sniffling.

“C’mon, you gotta get some sleep.” His words make your head whirl even more.

“Lele?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re real?”

“Yeah, baby, I’m real.” His voice sinks into your skin, and you lean into him immediately.

“Help.” You hold your hands out to him.

He loops his arm around your waist and guides you into your bedroom. “How much did you drink?”

“Not a lot,” you mutter, your words slurring together. “I’ve had more.”

He scoffs. “You’re ridiculous.”

You flop into your bed, and you swear your sheets still smell like him. He should be tangled up with you every night, holding you close to him like you’re the only thing that matters. You should be. The only thing. Chenle hesitates before climbing in next to you.

“I don’t want to stop,” you whisper as his chest settles against your back. “We’re both fucking stupid if we want other people.”

“Sh.” He makes the gesture so softly, you almost miss it. “We’ll talk tomorrow, baby. Get some sleep.”

You wake to lips on your shoulder. Shuffling closer to Chenle, you groan at the brightness of the sun.

“Careful,” he mutters, squeezing his arm around your waist.

“What time is it?”

“Ten.”

“What?” You attempt to shoot up in bed, but you groan and slump back in your spot. “Fuck. Don’t we have class?”

“We had class, yeah.” Chenle tightens his grip around you and traces shapes on your hip. “I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

You remember Chenle telling you he’d never missed a class in his life. How he’d always known how important every single lesson was, and how he’d never miss for something unimportant.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him.

He frowns. “What for?”

“I did it on purpose. Well, not really. But I was trying to distance myself from you because we were…I don’t know, spending a lot of time together. It was fucking weird.”

“Do you not want that?” he asks.

“I do. And it’s weird that I do.” You bury yourself in his chest. “Can we forget everything today? I just want you.”

“Of course,” he whispers. “That sounds perfect.”

His arms wrap around you, a deep hum escaping him as he rests his head on top of yours. You breathe him in. You wonder what it’ll take to get through your own confusion, and if it’s even worth dragging him along with you. His fingertips comb through your hair. And for the first time in weeks, the only movement between the two of you is steady breathing.

A few more days pass, and the two of you haven’t resumed despite agreeing not to stop. You assume he’s too awkward to ask, and he’s awaiting your nudge to tell him it’s okay. But you realized that part of him gaining confidence is about letting him figure it out.

You’re sitting on your couch with his head in your lap, fingers sifting through his hair as the TV plays quietly in front of you. A lot of time spent with him feels oddly domestic. You’ve never let Jisung lay on you like this, so what exactly is the extent of what’s running through your mind?

He shifts on his back, grabbing your hand. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

He sits up and faces you, gaze traveling over you briefly. “Are we…You said you wanted to stop, and then you said you didn’t want to stop. And we never talked about it. So, please don’t think I’m trying to pressure you or anything, but I think it’s worth a conversation.”

“You’re right.” You cross your legs and turn toward him. “What the hell was all of that?”

“I really don’t know. Like, logically, you weren’t doing anything to spite me, but it just…felt like I’d never be good enough. Not just for you but for anyone. It wasn’t fair of me to take that out on you, and you’re obviously more than welcome to do whatever the hell you want with your body.”

“What part of you isn’t good enough?”

He sighs and clasps his hands together. “C’mon, (Y/N), I haven’t been able to make you finish first. And you can say whatever you want, but it’s gotta be frustrating—”

“Chenle.” You shuffle closer to him. “If it were frustrating, do you really think I’d keep going back for more? You still take the time to make sure I’m good, even if it’s not before you, which is more than what a lot of guys can say. Relax.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why that’s immediately where I went when I saw that guy touch you. To be honest, I’ve never…felt anything like that before. And it scared me, so I figured it’d be better to leave.” He picks at the seam of his jeans.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” you ask.

Chenle nods, glancing down at your lips. You give him a small smile before leaning in and pressing your mouth to his. He sighs as if he’s melting into you, and his hand moves to the back of your head.

“I missed this,” he murmurs.

“Me, too,” you admit.

No matter how much you want to, you don’t push further. You wait for him to make that decision. He pulls away briefly as if to analyze you, and then he moves back in with determination. Without a word, you allow him to guide you until your back is against the couch cushions.

You throw your arm around his shoulders and pull him closer. With a gentle roll of his hips, his clothed length presses against you. He kisses down your neck, gently nipping at your skin. Finally, he lifts up to press his lips to your ear.

“You know, people radiate more thermally per volume than the sun.” His hand trails down your body, slipping into your shorts to cup your core over your panties. “And you’ve got me fucking addicted to you, for fuck’s sake.”

“Did you just tell me a physics fact right now?” You quirk an eyebrow at him.

He grins. “Yeah, I did. It felt like it fit the situation.”

“It’s so fucking weird that I found that hot.” And then you pull him back into a kiss while you roll against his hand.

“Oh, good.” He moves your panties aside and slides his fingers along your entrance. “Can I go down on you?”

“Huh?” Your eyes shoot open and you grab his wrist.

“You’ve gone down on me, but I’ve never…” He gulps and nudges your clit with his fingertips. “Do you not want me to?”

“I’m just…shocked.” You let out a shaky breath as he circles you. “That you want to.”

“I want anything that’ll make you feel good.” He pulls at the hem of your panties, only to let them smack back against your skin.

“You know I’m not gonna say no.” You lift your hips to encourage him to undress you.

He smirks and removes his hand from your core. “I like to hear you want me.”

“Can you do me a favor?” You trace along his bottom lip, entranced in the thought of his head between your thighs.

“Anything.”

“Keep the glasses on when you do it.”

He raises an eyebrow, but you’re quickly distracted by the way he tugs your shorts and panties off in one movement. You’re not sure where the determination on his face comes from—or the confidence and knowledge—but he starts by pressing open mouthed kisses around your inner thigh.

“You’re so pretty everywhere,” he mutters, tongue running along your skin.

You let your head drop back against the couch and reach to card your fingers through his hair. He hums into you as he trails closer and closer to your core. You usually try to refrain from squirming too much or letting him know just how fucking needy you are, but the thought of his lips on you is driving you up the fucking wall.

“Lele, don’t tease me,” you whine, shifting so you can see him.

His gaze flicks up, a look within you’ve never seen before. You did something to him, and you’re more than ready to find out. He narrows his eyes slightly as he analyzes you before he dips his head back down. His tongue starts at your entrance, and he flattens it and moves upward until he takes your clit in his mouth.

You gasp, wanting nothing more than to throw your head back, but you refuse—you need to see him. He sucks on your bud and flicks it with his tongue, and you grip his hair.

“I didn’t fucking teach you that,” you say breathlessly, chest heaving.

He pulls away just long enough to say, “Porn isn’t completely useless now, is it?”

You’re dazed already, watching as he pleasures you. He moans against you, and the vibrations course through you. You’re not sure what made you ask him to keep the glasses on, but you’re appreciating it now more than ever—he’s between your legs with his face buried in the very apex of your thighs, and every time you squirm, you feel the thick frames of his glasses.

“Fingers,” you tell him. “Fuck, use your fingers.”

He doesn’t let up, immediately listening and thrusting two inside you. Your back arches as you moan and push him further against you. Everything becomes a blur, and when he curls his fingers just the way you taught him, you’re practically thrashing beneath him.

A strangely masculine scream robs your body of the high you were two seconds away from, and Chenle freezes and lifts himself to cover a bit more of you. Embarrassment floods through your body.

“What the fuck?” Jisung shouts, hands slapped over his eyes. “(Y/N), I sit on that couch!”

“That’s really what you’re worried about?” You scoff and grab the throw blanket from the back. Chenle helps you spread it out so he can safely move away from his spot. You cover him, too, considering the noticeable bulge in his pants.

“You should save all sexual activity for your bedroom—”

“Says the guy who was telling me how he fucked a girl on the kitchen counter,” you shoot back. “We’re covered.”

He drops his hands from his eyes and shivers like this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

“I’m gonna puke. Chenle, wipe your fucking mouth.” Jisung clenches his eyes shut and shakes his head. “What the fuck?”

Chenle’s ears turn pink, and he uses the blanket to remove what’s left of your arousal from his face. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you study him—

“My God, are you gonna eat him alive?” Jisung scolds you. “Right in front of me? I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me you’re together.”

You and Chenle exchange glances before you both look back at Jisung.

“No. No, no, no.” He drops his head into his hands. “You mean to tell me you’re not?”

“Can we do this later?” you ask.

“What?”

“I agree,” Chenle adds. “You should come back in like an hour. Or two. Because to be honest, I don’t really care if you’re here or not, I’m gonna fuck her.”

Everything inside you heats up again, and you gape at Chenle. Jisung lets out a dramatic scream and slams the door behind him.

“What the hell was that?” You push Chenle’s shoulder.

“The truth,” he says. “I want you so fucking bad right now.”

“Well, you’d better hurry up and put this extra time to good use.” You lean forward and kiss him hard, holding onto the back of his neck. He inhales sharply but wastes no time in reciprocating. With one quick movement, the blanket once covering you is tossed to the floor, and he’s between your legs.

While his mouth works against yours, he almost frantically moves his hands beneath your shirt and only breaks where you’re connected to pull it off. His urgency takes you off-guard, but you can’t deny the thrill running through your veins and the wetness rushing to your core.

You grab at his shirt, and he sits up on his knees to take it off. Practically lunging forward, you unbutton his pants. As soon as his zipper’s down, he grabs your wrist.

“Turn around.”

“Huh?” you ask.

“Turn around,” he repeats. “You know what I want.”

With anyone else, you’d be embarrassed by how much his request turned you on. You flip over and lift yourself to your knees. You arch your back and let your head rest against the couch cushion, and his groan reverberates through your entire being.

His hands grip your ass, nails digging in as he squeezes hard. “Do you have any fucking idea how bad I wanted you to cum on my tongue?”

“Was pretty close.” You push back against him.

“Think he’s listening?” Chenle asks, tapping your hip before flattening his palm over your stomach. “Just a little curious about us, huh?”

His touch burns against you in the best ways, and after being as close as you were, you’re desperate for him to make you finish. You cry out when he puts two fingers on your clit and rubs slow circles. Gripping onto the cushion below you, you rock your hips in rhythm with him.

“You said you’re on birth control, right?” he murmurs, seemingly distracted by the way your arousal coats his skin.

You nod fervently.

“Is…” He pauses, cursing under his breath. “No condom is okay? I can, um, finish inside you?”

Your eyes roll back. “Fuck, of course, you can. I need you right now.”

He shuffles behind you, and you wish you could see what he was doing. His fingers slow, but your whine is cut short when he slides his length against you to collect the wetness.

“A-and there’s…no risk?” He gulps.

“C’mon, you little science nerd, you know there’s always a risk.” You chuckle airly. “That’s part of what makes it fun.”

He hums and removes his fingers from you, grabbing his cock and jerking himself off a few times before lining up with your entrance.

“You’re sure this is okay, baby?” Chenle’s free hand squeezes your ass again.

“For fuck’s sake, Lele, please—” You’re cut off by his tip ever so slowly stretching you to accommodate him. You gasp, immediately pushing back to take more of him. This angle has you seeing stars. Once he bottoms out, he lets out a long moan.

“So good,” he whines, just barely rocking his hips. “You’re so fucking good.”

He reaches around you again to circle your clit, and then he starts to thrust. Your eyes roll and your body melts, everything around you becoming blurry as he sets a steady pace that has your toes curling.

You attempt to assist him, every time he’s entering you, you push back to take him harder. One hand grips your hip, and the other frantically works between your legs. You can’t even think straight, moans pouring out in unison with his. A knot starts to form in your stomach, and you attempt to shut your thighs.

“‘M close.” You gasp, legs beginning to shake. “Fuck, ‘m gonna—”

You let out your loudest moan yet as you spasm around him, overwhelmed from the pleasure. Sensitivity sets in quickly, but you need him to cum inside you. He lets out a high pitched noise, and the next thing you know, he’s pressing his hips against you, burying himself as deep as he can to fill you with his load.

Both of you pant, unable to move for a moment. Once he regains some of his composure, he slowly pulls out of you, sighing at the feeling. He turns you on your back and kisses you slow, his lips working to part yours as he slides his tongue in.

You smile, unable to hold it back when you think of how much he’s learned in such a short period of time.

“You did it,” you tease him.

“That was the best fucking feeling in the world,” he tells you. “I’m never cumming first again.”

You laugh and push at his shoulder. “That’s not really something you get to just manifest into the universe.”

“Maybe not.” He shrugs, sheepishly grinning at you. “You want new clothes?”

“It’d be really great if you could grab me a towel, actually.”

“A towel?” He frowns.

“You see, Lele, when you fuck raw, messes occur.” You chuckle. “That’s a good thought for the future. Aftercare includes towels.”

“The future?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“I just meant—” Your face heats up. “Like, whoever you end up with. It’s important.”

“Right.” The playful gleam on his face fades, and as he leans back to get up and retrieve what you need, he stops to stare at the apex of your thighs. “It comes out.”

You slap a hand over your mouth to stop the abrupt laugh. “Yes, it does. What did you think happened? It magically gets absorbed into vagina land?”

“Well…yeah.” He shrugs, wetting his lips. “But this is so much hotter. I might get hard again.”

“You psycho, go get a towel.” You push at him, and he bursts into laughter as he tucks himself back in his boxers and jeans before heading toward your bathroom.

When he comes back, he helps you clean up. His touch is tender, gentle, and it makes you want to wrap him up in your blankets and stay in your bed all day with him. He grabs the throw blanket from the floor, lays down on top of you, and rests his head on your chest. You hum in content and run your fingers through his hair.

You’re not sure how long the two of you stay like that, but you find yourself drifting off to sleep. Just before you do, a phone vibrates on the coffee table. Chenle groans.

“Who’s is it?” you ask.

He lifts his head to look. “Mine. The one time it actually rings—should I just ignore it?”

“No, it’s okay.” You sigh and rub your eyes. “Answer.”

He kisses your forehead before getting up. After he has the blanket on you again, he reaches for his phone and answers it.

“Yeah?”

As soon as the other person speaks, he tenses and sits straight up.

“That was today? Are you still there? I’m so sorry, I can be there in fifteen minutes if that works.” He pauses and massages his forehead. “Yeah, I understand. It won’t happen again.”

After a few more moments of listening, Chenle hangs up the phone. He curses and reaches down to grab his shirt from the floor. When he turns to you, you’re watching him with a concerned look on your face.

“One of my professors assigned a group project, and we were supposed to present today. Like…twenty minutes ago. It’s literally twenty percent of my fucking grade.” Despite his anxious energy, he gives you a gentle kiss. “I’m so sorry, babe, I’ll come back later, okay?”

You don’t have time to answer, because he grabs his wallet and keys and bolts out the door. Not that you would’ve been able to anyway—shock courses through you at the pet name. Sure, he says things during sex, but the two of you have never…nicknamed each other outside of that.

You sit up in confusion and scratch the top of your head. What the fuck is going on with you and Chenle?

After you shower and get dressed, you go over to Jisung’s. You’re glad Chenle won’t have to sit through this. When you’re on Jisung’s couch with a bowl of popcorn, he begins his in-depth interview.

“You’re not dating?”

“Nope.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Jisung,” you deadpan. “I think it’s pretty obvious. He’s helping me with physics, and I’m helping him—”

“Did he say you had to—”

“Park Jisung, this is Chenle you’re talking about. You really think he’s capable of something like that?” You put another handful of popcorn in your mouth.

“Fine. Then tell me how it started. I can’t believe you’ve kept this from me. Your best friend. I tell you when I hook up with people.” He frowns at you.

“Well, one day, we were doing physics homework.”

“Wow, so sexy.”

“Shut up.” You send a glare his way. “Anyway, he was telling me about the ever-expanding universe or whatever, and…like, when he gets super passionate about something, he’s attractive. Like more than usual, you know? So, I asked him why he hadn’t ever dated anyone before.”

“And then you banged him?” Jisung purses his lips. “That’s…well, to be fair, I kind of expected that portion of it.”

You flip him off. “No, that’s not how it happened. Just listen, would you?”

“Fine, fine.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“He said he didn’t have any prospects so obviously I was like…be for real, dude. He’s…attractive, you know? And then he said he was busy, and then I asked what about hooking up with people? Because you can still hook up and not date.”

“That kinda sounds like he was making excuses for not wanting to date.”

“Yeah, maybe. But he was also a virgin.”

“What?” Jisung’s jaw drops, and he drags his hands down his face. “(Y/N), are you insane? He’s probably unhealthily obsessed with you—”

“He showed up the next day and asked me to…teach him how to have sex. And I’d been dickless for…shit, months at least, so of course, I said yes.” You purse your lips and stare down at your lap. “He’s still learning.”

“When was this?”

“Um…” you hesitate, fidgeting with your fingers. “Remember that party where you said you saw us all angry and stuff?”

“Yeah?”

“Like, a few weeks before that.”

“Holy fucking shit, (Y/N), you’ve been fucking him for that long?” Your best friend lets out an exasperated sigh. “You realize he’s in love with you, right?”

Your head shoots up and you stare at the man on the couch. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry, but no dude like him is gonna be able to stop himself from falling in love with a girl he’s been fucking for months. Guys are really oddly attached to their firsts, you know. And that reaction at the party. He’s been missing classes. It’s like you’ve taken over his whole life.”

The rose-colored glasses shatter, and you recall what happened just hours before. He’d missed the presentation of his project. Your throat closes in on itself and you slap a hand to your forehead. Sure, you asked him to tell you if he was starting to catch feelings, but you should’ve known better than to think he’d even realize it before it was too late.

“If you don’t even have a smidge of feelings for him, you’ve gotta stop all of this. For his sake.” Jisung moves over to you so he can give you a supportive hug. “You know he deserves someone who will love him.”

“He’s not in love with me,” you say quickly. “I’ll prove it to you. You’ll see at the party this weekend. He’ll pull some random girl.”

“Sure…” he trails off. “We’ll see, I guess.”

You don’t want to stop.

That’s the only thing whirling through your head when Chenle tells you he’s on his way back to you. Your nerves churn until you’re sick to your stomach, but there’s not a damn thing you can do to change it. He’d never tell you if he got feelings for you. You should’ve known better than to expect that from him. After all, you guys spend nearly every day together, and you don’t have sex all of those days. Or learn physics. Sometimes, the two of you just lay on your bed together, your head buried in his neck, legs tangled until you don’t know which ones are yours anymore.

If he doesn’t put up a fight, it means Jisung was wrong. And that also means you don’t have to distance yourself. If he does…

“(Y/N)?” His voice carries from your living room.

“In here,” you call out to him.

Chenle’s footsteps are barely audible as he makes his way over to you. His form takes up the door frame, where he pauses to study you. He lets his backpack fall from his shoulder, and then he’s climbing onto your bed. With a long sigh, he finds his spot next to you and wraps his arm around your middle.

“That bad?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “I just can’t believe I forgot that.”

You pause for a moment, and the two of you are cascaded into a blanket of silence. He must sense the awkwardness in the air, given the way he gulps and his heart rate speeds up. You lean back to get a good view of his face.

“Why did you?” you ask quietly.

“What?”

“Forget. Why did you forget?”

He blinks, lips parting while he searches for something to say. “I…I don’t know. Honestly, I’ve never done something like that before. I’m glad the teacher still let me present, otherwise I would’ve lost my top spot. And I think that’s the only reason why she did.”

“And you were…okay with that?” You recoil.

“At the time, it really freaked me out.” He frowns. “But even if I lost the top spot, I’d still be in the top ten, so…(Y/N)?”

You roll away from him and out of his grasp, planting your feet on the floor. An overwhelming guilt floods you as you bury your head in your hands. The man in your bed just a couple months ago would’ve dropped dead at a statement like that. He could’ve gone on for hours about how important that spot was to him, and what the hell’s he willing to give that up for?

“Are you okay?” Chenle sits up behind you, fingertips brushing your arm.

“We have to stop.” It was supposed to come out much stronger than it did, but at least you didn’t have to look at him.

“Wha—how did that even—why?” He adjusts to sit next to you, eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” you snap. “What the fuck is top ten to someone like you? School has been everything to you, and you’re forgetting projects like it means nothing. Have you even been doing your work? You’re with me all the time, and the only thing you’ve been doing school wise is helping me with physics.”

“It was one time, (Y/N), okay?”

“Now you’re lying to me,” you groan in exasperation.

“I…” He gulps and turns his head away from you.

“I told you to tell me if you ever caught feelings, Chenle.” You blink back tears and chew the inside of your cheek while you await his response.

But no matter how much you wait, it doesn’t come. His hands are clasped together in his lap, and he stares down at them, inhaling shaky breaths.

“My God, you’re not even denying it.” You stand up, unable to stop yourself from pacing around the room. “This is what’s making you all complacent about school? Seriously? This is the exact reason you said you didn’t want to date. Or find someone to sleep with, because you didn’t have time—”

“I actually said it was because I hadn’t found anyone worth it,” he finally speaks up, gaze finally lifting to meet yours. “What did you expect would happen? You really thought the virgin would be able to stop himself from falling for you after everything we’ve done? I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted, or if you wanted me to tell you, but by the time I actually realized what was happening, it was too late. I’d lose you. In all aspects, not just…whatever the hell this is.”

“You need to go.”

“After all of this, you don’t even…not even a little bit?”

You do. How do you tell him no and lie right to his face?

“I just put everything out there. The least you can do at this point is tell me if all of this only meant something to me.” Desperation tugs on his features, and he takes a step closer to you. “Did you spend every night with me and still not…”

“Stop,” you shout. “What the hell are you thinking? What is it that you want me to say? It doesn’t matter if I do or don’t have feelings for you, because I would never—”

“Date me?” he interrupts you. “Love me? What’s so bad about either of those things? I’m trying my best out here.”

“Would you let me finish?” You run your fingers through your hair. “I was going to say I would never let you give up your number one spot for any girl. Not just me. Because that’s fucking stupid. And you’re not stupid, Chenle, so you need to remember what’s actually important.”

“(Y/N), please. I can’t go back to how things were. Not when I know what all of this is like.”

“Then maybe we just don’t talk at all.” You clench your fists at your side. The idea breaks your own heart. “It’s not like we have any classes together. The only time we see each other is here anyway.”

“You haven’t denied it, either.” He’s directly in front of you now, watery eyes staring into yours. “You made a big deal of me not denying it, but you haven’t either.”

“Get out.” You point toward your door. “Leave me alone. Just go.”

Now he’s speechless, and the hurt on his face plays out right in front of you. You want to yell and scream because you’re the one causing this. You should’ve seen this coming. When he first approached you and asked you for this, you should’ve said no. If you had turned him away, things would be normal. He wouldn’t have turned complacent about the thing he once cared the most about. But what did that mean? Was it you he was willing to give it up for, or was it the freedom and new experiences you provided?

“You…what about your exam? It’s only a couple weeks before the end of the semester.”

“Don’t worry about me or my grades when you’re not even thinking of your own. Please, Chenle, just go. I’ll bring Jisung here if I have to.” You sniffle, rolling your eyes.

His jaw tightens as he glances up at the ceiling. “Fine. I…Clearly, nothing I say is gonna—yeah. I guess I’ll see you around.”

He grabs his backpack from the floor and slings it over his shoulder, and as soon as he closes the door behind him, you climb into your bed, grab the pillow he always uses, and cradle it to your chest. You don’t mean to let yourself cry, but once you start, you can’t stop.

You barely even remembered telling Jisung that Chenle would go to the party that weekend. To be honest, you’d told him about it, but hope that he won’t come gnaws at the edges of your heart. In all honesty, you didn’t even want to go. And if your best friend hadn’t practically forced you out of bed and to get dressed, you wouldn’t have.

You and Jisung went separate ways once you arrived at Jaemin’s house. Absent-mindedly, you find yourself in the kitchen, mixing a drink. The only way you’ll get through the night is with liquor. Once you walk back towards the living room, you see Jisung standing at the corner. He grins when he notices you.

“Dude, I so thought you were fucking with me. I’ll give it to you though, I guess you were right. You must be a good tutor.” Jisung lets out an obnoxious laugh. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“What are you talking about?” You frown.

He nods his head in the opposite direction, and when you follow his gaze, you immediately tense. Of course, Chenle did show up. Not only that, but he’s in full-on conversation with a girl you don’t recognize. Your throat tightens, but you swiftly attempt to ignore it with a quick sip of your drink.

“Never thought he’d get there,” Jisung evaluates him. “She looks like she’s into him.”

“Great.” You try your best not to sound sarcastic.

Jisung side eyes you, but he doesn’t say anything else. He crosses his arms over his chest and proceeds to watch Chenle, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to look in his direction. Your desire to be at this party has significantly decreased, and all you want to do is walk out and forget you ever saw him here. But it doesn’t matter either way—you sent him away. You have no right to be jealous or upset that he’s doing exactly what you taught him to do. If he wants to find a girlfriend or a fling, that’s up to him. And neither option should make you upset, no matter how much you can’t deny that it very much does.

“Oh, shit,” Jisung mutters, a chuckle escaping him.

Your head shoots in Chenle’s direction, and you bristle at the sight. He whispers something in the girl’s ear, and she laughs. Your chest tightens, somewhat desperate to know what he said to her—if it was any of the things he’s ever said to you. Maybe it was something you taught him. He leans away from her, but not all the way. The smile drops from her face, and you know immediately what’s about to happen. You push your cup against Jisung’s chest until he takes it from you.

“I can’t do this.” You shake your head and bolt in the opposite direction, toward the front door. Tears well in your eyes, but they only serve to piss you off. You shouldn’t care—you told him you didn’t.

Jisung drove you, so there’s nowhere for you to go except the front porch. You sit down on the top step, head buried in your palms. Taking a deep breath, you look up in time to see Karina walking out of the house with her keys.

“Are you going home?” you ask.

“Yeah, tonight’s kinda lame.” She scans over you and purses her lips. “You want a ride? I didn’t drink.”

“Fuck, yes. Please.” You launch up and follow Karina to her car.

Thankfully, she doesn’t ask you any questions on the way to your place. As you thank her and step out of the car, she grabs your wrist.

“I think I know what’s going on.” She pauses. “If there’s something you want, (Y/N), you shouldn’t let it go. Because you’ll regret it, okay?”

You nod and gulp. “Thanks, Rina.”

She lets you go and smiles. You close the car door behind you and head up to your apartment, questioning how you let yourself get into this predicament. Why the you from a few months ago didn’t have any clue how easy it would be to fall for someone like Chenle—a man with a kind heart, who cares for you and your wellbeing. You stare at your phone like it’ll light up from his text message, but you put a decent wedge between the two of you with your last conversation. Would he even look at his phone if you texted him? Maybe he’s already taking that girl home. He may learn it wasn’t even you he fell for, but the sex. And when he has sex with another girl, he’ll figure out you’re not special, and—

“God fucking damn it,” you groan, angrily wiping at your tears. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Your phone vibrates, but it’s a call from Jisung. You sniffle and clear your throat before answering.

“Yeah?”

“Where the hell did you go?” he snaps.

“I’m at home,” you tell him. “Rina drove me home.”

“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?” Jisung’s annoyance creeps through. “You just stormed out, but I figured you’d at least tell me if you were leaving the area.”

“Sungs, I’m not really in the mood to be yelled at right now.” You can’t hide the crack in your voice.

“Are you okay?” His voice instantly softens. “Is this about—”

“Don’t. I don’t want anyone else you’re with to know. It’s humiliating, isn’t it? Teaching a man everything you know for him to use it other places.” You chuckle, staring up at your ceiling.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Jisung sighs. “Because you clearly didn’t want him talking to that girl.”

“You’re making me sound pathetic.”

“Uh.”

“Fuck you, Park Jisung.” You roll your eyes. “You’re not helping.”

“Do you want me to come over?” he asks.

“Stay at the party. I’ll be okay.” You grab Chenle’s pillow and pull it to your chest. “Is he…did he leave?”

“He’s not with her, if that’s what you’re asking. He left. By himself. After I figured out you were gone, I kinda freaked out and there was like…a search party. He didn’t care much about her after that.”

“He’s so annoying,” you huff out. “Why couldn’t he have just…fucked that girl or something?”

“Like you wouldn’t have crumbled to dust at the literal thought of that.” Jisung scoffs. “I know you, (Y/N), and no matter what you say, there’s no way you feel absolutely nothing for him. You’re both suffering because of the denial, you know.”

“What if it’s not really me he wants? Like…what if he just likes the sex and doesn’t realize it yet?” You shake your head.

Jisung lets out a long sigh. “He’s not a child, okay? Just because he hasn’t had sex before or dated anyone doesn’t mean he doesn’t know what that feels like, dude.”

Before you answer, the knock on your front door takes you off guard. You sit up and throw the blanket off your body. Jisung mutters something in the background, but you can’t focus on what he’s saying. When you open the door, you almost stop breathing. You put the phone back up to your ear. “Jisung, let me call you back.”

He doesn’t even have time to respond before you hang up and toss it over to the side. Through the dark, Chenle stares back at you. His fists clench and unclench as he stands there in silence, clearly unsure what to say.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“I can’t fucking do this,” he replies. “I need you, okay? Don’t try and lie to me and say you have no feelings for me, because I saw you today. When I acted that way about you and Jeno, you asked me if I had feelings for you. Is that ‘cause you have them, too?”

“Yes.”

“Can you just be honest with—huh?” His brows furrow and his eyes narrow.

“You want the truth, Chenle? Yes. Yes, I like you, but I’m not letting you jeopardize your schooling for any of this. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“I’ll be better,” he says. “I was just…distracted. It felt like every moment with you was fleeting, and I had to get every second I could before you disappeared.” He steps inside your apartment and closes the door.

“Lele, that’s such a big risk.” You feel like you’re shrinking in on yourself. How do you tell yourself it’s okay to be selfish this time if he doesn’t have to give anything up to be with you?

“And I get that. I do. But it’s worth it. You’re worth it. And I don’t want to let you go just because we’re still in school. We can have something real. Honestly, we’ve had that this whole time, and you trying to say we didn’t is doing us both a disservice.”

“What happened with that girl today?” you ask.

“You know what that was. A whole lot of fucking nothing.” He runs his fingers through his hair and wets his lips. “I didn’t even kiss her, by the way. I couldn’t. Seriously, I wanted to because I needed to know if these…feelings I have for you are real. Maybe that’s an awful way to do it, but I figured if I kissed someone else and it felt the same, then I’d be okay without you.”

You don’t say a word. His eyebrows furrow.

“I wanted to kiss her because I thought it’d give me the answer I desperately needed, not because I wanted her specifically. I want you. I’ve wanted you since the first fucking day I met you. And I couldn’t kiss her because she wasn’t you. Nobody will ever be you, and—”

“I love you.”

“—I wish there was a way I could—huh?”

You step closer to him. “You’re right. I love you. From the moment you had stars in your eyes just from talking about them.”

His jaw drops, and relief floods his features, but he flounders for words.

“If you don’t say it back, I might die of embarrassment.”

“God, of course, I fucking love you.” He scoffs, reaching forward to cup your cheeks and pull you to him.

Your lips meet so abruptly, you gasp. Without any hesitation, you wrap your arms around him and weave your fingers through his hair. His chest presses against yours, and whatever battle you’d been trying to fight until this point has been lost.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He punctuates each word with another kiss, and he begins to walk you backwards. You cling on to him but allow him to guide you.

“You have to promise you won’t let school fall behind,” you say breathlessly, placing your palms on his chest once you make it to your door frame. “That you won’t lose yourself because of me.”

“I hadn’t known myself until I met you, (Y/N). I’m only me if I’m with you.” Chenle gives you a soft smile. “If you’re mine, I won’t be worried about fleeting moments.”

You nod slowly, pulling him back to you. “I need you.”

He groans against your mouth, wrapping an arm firmly around your waist and walking you back until you’re by the edge of your bed. Without breaking the kiss, he follows you down to the mattress, his weight pressing you into it. You spread your legs to accommodate him, sliding your hands beneath the hem of his shirt to pull it off. He assists you, and as soon as it’s thrown across the room, you reach for him desperately to minimize the amount of time without the two of you connected.

“Say you love me again,” he mutters. “Please.”

“I love you,” you repeat easily, letting out a shaky breath as he reaches beneath your shirt to squeeze your breasts. His thumbs flick over your nipples, and you moan quietly.

“Me, too, baby.” He pulls your shirt off and interrupts the kiss to drag his lips down your neck. “There’s one thing you still haven’t taught me.”

“What’s that?”

“Show me how to make love to you.” He moves down further and takes your nipple in his mouth.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, gasping at the sensation. “Come here, Lele.”

When he’s face to face with you again, the darkness in his eyes has wetness spreading between your legs. He edges closer to you, unable to resist the urge of kissing you again. When he’s barely centimeters away, you lift your hand and trace his bottom lip, entranced by everything he is.

“Some things can’t be taught,” you whisper. “Sometimes, they just have to be felt.”

A ghost of a smile forms beneath your touch, and he nods. While his urgency is still there, he slows down, giving his hands freedom to explore you. Your back arches as his palm slides along your side. He grinds against you, shuddering breaths escaping. You lift up to match him, and you moan when you feel his hard length against your thinly covered core. The lust in his gaze has changed to adoration, a gentle gleam reflecting the moonlight outside as he removes your shorts and panties. His palm sends warmth through your abdomen, and he slowly moves lower.

“Can I?” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Please.”

He kisses you as a distraction, and you whine when his fingertips press against your clit. Humming in his own form of pleasure, he rubs uniform circles.

“Relax,” he tells you. “You’re so tense, baby. Let me take care of you.”

You immediately melt. “More.”

He parts your lips with his tongue, and as soon as it enters your mouth, his fingers slip inside. You moan, eyes rolling back as you rock your hips. The noises pouring from you can’t be controlled. You break the kiss and gasp when he curls his fingers and hits your spot.

“Fuck, again.” You dig your nails into his shoulders.

He repeats the motion, the tip of his nose brushing along your cheek. In your ear, he says, “I love you. So fucking much.”

A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine. You tilt your head back. “I’m close, fuck.”

He takes your ear lobe between his teeth and tugs, eliciting a cry from the back of your throat. Your walls clamp down wildly on his fingers, but he knows you more than you’d care to admit at this point. Right before you crumble before his eyes, he removes his fingers from you. Before you can protest, he silences you with a kiss.

“Condom?” he asks.

“Up to you,” you reply.

He pushes his pants off and to the floor, and you have a brief moment to admire the bulge straining in his boxers before those are thrown, too. Wrapping his hand around his cock, he inhales sharply as he jerks himself off a couple times.

“Ready, baby?” He climbs over you again, nudging your sensitive clit with his tip.

You nod, tugging him closer. “Hurry up.”

Chenle trails down to line up with your entrance, and he groans when he coats himself in your arousal. “You’re so wet.”

You open your mouth to say something, but he pushes inside of you at the same time. A loud moan escapes instead, making you slap your own hand over your mouth as your walls stretch to accommodate Chenle.

“God, do you know what you fucking do to me?” He drops his head on your shoulder as he bottoms out deep inside you.

Both of you are impatient today, apparently, because he wastes no time in moving his hips. He only leaves the tip in, just to push his hips forward. His moans join yours, the sound enough to make your walls flutter around him.

“So good.” You match his movements, lifting up every time he thrusts.

He speeds up, making sure to press flush against you every time he bottoms out. The sight of him alone is enough to have you trembling, but seeing him entranced by where your bodies are connected has you clenching around him.

He lets out a long moan, and you join him in looking between the two of you. His skin slaps yours, and sounds of your arousal fill the room. His teeth sink into his bottom lip, and he reaches between the two of you to find your clit. The first contact makes you jolt and whine.

You wrap your legs around his waist, smashing your lips to his. He smirks against your mouth, the steady pace of his thumb on your sensitive bud sending spasms down your spine. Your stomach ties in knots, and you squirm beneath him.

“Lele, ‘m gonna cum.” You barely get the words out through your pleasured haze, and he nods, burying his head in your neck and thrusting into you harder. Your legs shake as you tighten them around him, and your entire being ascends as your orgasm slams into you. You moan so loudly, he kisses you to keep you quiet.

“Feels so good.” His voice cracks as he fucks you through your high.

You kiss him hard, and use your legs to flip the two of you over so you’re on top. His jaw drops at the sight of you, hands immediately trailing up your body to your breasts. You give him a second to admire before you start your steady pace. You lean back and brace your palms on his thighs, slowly rolling your hips as you sink down on his cock. He uses the position to put his thumb on your clit again. You jolt, cursing again as you speed up. The sensitivity has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, but the feeling of him snug inside you, rubbing against your walls, has you approaching a second orgasm.

You’re not expecting it, but you hope he lasts long enough to finish you off a second time. Your brain is clouded with pleasure, and one look at him tells you he’s teetering close to the edge. His jaw is clenched, face contorted in pleasure as he stares at you bouncing on top of him. You’re seconds away. Your orgasm builds deep inside you, and your hips falter. He thrusts up, moaning loudly. Legs quaking, your second orgasm hits you hard, back arching. Chenle sits up to catch you crumbling into his chest, rocking his hips. He wraps his arms around you and holds you to him tightly as one last thrust has him spilling deep inside you. Both of you are covered in sweat, panting in the aftermath of the pleasure.

“Fuck.” He pants, burying his head in your neck and kissing where it joins with your shoulder. “‘M never gonna get used to that.”

When you chuckle, he squirms and gasps.

“Did you know you like, clench when you laugh?” He squeezes your hips. “We’ve been doing this for months, and I’m still learning.”

“The human body is wonderful,” you tease him. “Maybe you’ll switch from physics to anatomy.”

“The only anatomy I’m curious about is yours.” He holds you close and turns you on your back. Placing one last kiss on your forehead, he pulls out of you slowly. A lazy smile graces his face as he sees the sticky mess between your legs.

“You weirdo.” You nudge him with your foot.

He grabs your ankle and yanks you down closer to him. Hovering over you, he narrows his eyes. “Me being a weirdo is solely your fault, you know.”

“I suppose you’ve earned it.” You pretend to think about it. “Kiss me.”

He doesn’t hesitate to lean down and press his lips to yours, the movement softer and slower than before. You don’t mean to let out a long sigh of pleasure, but his breath shudders against your mouth. “Don’t do that,” he whines. “I’ll get hard again.”

“Why don’t we go shower together?” You twirl his hair.

“Mm, you gonna let me wash your hair?” He presses soft kisses up your neck. “I’ll take any excuse to touch you, baby.”

“You’re getting good at this.” You laugh and rest your head back on the pillow. “You never would’ve talked like that before. It’s sexy.”

He hums and nips your skin. “That’s your magic.”

After a few more moments of him doting on you, the two of you get in the shower. The two of you stand under the water, relaxing in the hot steam and each other’s embrace. His hands trail over your body until he’s eventually cupping your breasts.

“Hear me out,” he mutters. “How about we both just drop out and stay exactly like this forever.”

“Sounds great in theory, Lele, but you made a promise.”

He groans. “I made a few promises tonight. Don’t worry, I meant all of them.”

His thumbs brush your nipples until they harden beneath his touch. He pins you to his chest with his arm, continuing his work on your breast as his other hand trails down your body. Apparently, you’ve turned him into something insatiable, but you definitely benefit from it. He stops with his hand on your hip.

“Need something, baby?”

The tone of his voice sends a chill down your spine, and mixed with hot water cascading over you, you moan. You clench your thighs together, desperate for friction.

He adjusts to pinch your nipple, rolling it between his fingers. “Feel good?”

“Touch me,” you whine, grabbing at his wrist to push him between your legs.

“If it were socially acceptable, I’d be touching you at all times.” His fingertips find your clit. “You’re so fucking warm, and those little sounds you make…”

“Faster,” you say as you arch your back.

“But you’re so sensitive,” he whispers. “I’m having fun like this.”

“Lele, please.” You drop your head back. “I need you.”

“Music to my fucking ears.” He sinks two fingers inside you, his palm smacking against your clit every time he thrusts them in.

Your arousal gushes over him, and he bites down on his bottom lip to keep any sounds at bay. He stops working your nipple, too focused on the way your walls clamp on his fingers. You whine at the loss, putting your hand over his to tell him to keep playing with you.

He pulls his fingers out, trailing the wetness along your thighs. Right when he pinches your nipple, he does the same to your clit. You jolt and cry out, rolling your hips to get more stimulation.

“I wanna fuck you so bad right now,” he groans. “You always look so fucking pretty when you want me like this.”

“I can take it,” you tell him as you squeeze your thighs together. “Anything you give me, I’ll take it.”

A deep moan escapes him, and the next thing you know, he’s pulling you back so he can bend you over.

“Hands on the wall,” he instructs.

Once you’re fully bent over, you push back against him, desperate for him to fill you. He strokes his cock, gaze stuck directly on your core. He reaches around your body, squeezing your breasts again.

He releases you and lines himself up with your entrance. Right when you think he’ll push inside, he rubs his tip on your clit. Without warning, he slides completely inside, his tip resting snug against your spot from this angle. You scream, already pushing your hips back.

Neither of you have time to breathe before he’s thrusting hard, nails digging into your skin as he pulls you back with every forward movement. Your hands slip down the wall, the squeak of the tile doing nothing but adding to the pleasure of him inside you. The water amplifies the clapping sounds of his body against yours, and your eyes roll back from all of the overwhelming feelings.

“Lele,” you whine. “S-spread my legs a little more.”

He does as you ask, still thrusting at a slower pace.

“Now keep going how you were.” You push back until he’s buried deep inside you.

He seems to understand your motive without you explaining it, and you thank everything you can think of that he’s so fucking smart. When he resumes his unrelenting pace, it’s joined with his balls smacking into your clit. Every thrust has your walls fluttering around him, and each hit on your sensitive bud brings you closer to your much needed orgasm.

“Just like that.” You can barely speak at this point, fucking yourself back on his cock to match his pace.

A knot ties in your stomach, and you’re left delirious as you chase the unraveling of it. You let out your loudest moan yet, letting all of the sensations around you drive you over the edge. Chenle curses behind you as your walls clamp down on him, but he keeps moving. It doesn’t take long for your pleasure to turn into overstimulation from him rubbing against your walls.

As soon as an unfamiliar cry leaves you, he stops immediately.

“Are you okay?” he asks, panting.

“I–I can’t keep—fuck, I’m sorry.” You clench your fists together.

“No, baby, it’s okay.” He carefully pulls out of you and guides you back to your feet. “Don’t be sorry. You’d never be mad at me for something like that.”

“But you—”

“The fact you even let me in at all still baffles me.” He chuckles, pulling you in for a short kiss. His cheeks are bright red, and while he’s brushing your hair out of your face, an idea comes to mind.

“Let me fix it.” You kiss his cheek.

Before he has the opportunity to ask what you’re talking about, you’re guiding him until his back is against the wall. The chill of the tile makes his cock twitch, and you wish you could take him again. Instead, you lower yourself down onto your knees.

“You’re—the tile’s gonna hurt your—”

“Do you want to cum in my mouth or on my face?”

He gulps. “You don’t have to—”

“Answer the question.” You glare up at him, and he curses.

“Your face. If that’s okay.”

You chuckle. “I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t.”

“It kinda—it sounds so hot but I don’t want you to think it’s demeaning or anyth—oh, fuck.” His head drops against the wall when you take him in your mouth. You sink further and further until he’s snug down your throat, your nose pressed to his pelvis.

You hollow your cheeks as you pull away from him. He slides out with a pop, and when you look up at him, his jaw is dropped.

“First of all, if I was worried about you looking down on me, we would not be having sex at all. Second, don’t be shy. Grab my hair. Fuck my throat, I don’t care.”

His eyes widen, and like you’ve awoken something inside him, he grabs the back of your head and pushes you forward. You grin smugly before wrapping your lips around his tip. Running your tongue along to gather his precum, you grab onto his thighs to keep you steady.

“C’mon, baby, take it.” He inhales sharply as he pushes his cock into your mouth. You let him take full control, humming around him.

The vibrations make his hips jerk, and his tip slams into the back of your throat. You whimper, tears welling in your eyes.

“‘M sorry,” he groans, thrusting at a steady pace. “Just feels so fucking good. Smack me if you need to stop.”

You give him the best nod you can and brace yourself against him. It doesn’t take long for his orgasm to approach after he has your confirmation. He holds your head firmly, letting out a high pitched moan as you gag and your throat constricts around him.

He mutters something incoherent, and you pull away from him and stroke him with your hand instead. As soon as his hips buck, you open your mouth. Strings of white shoot from his tip, and you close your eyes as it coats your face. You swallow what lands on your tongue, panting as you look up at him.

“Oh,” he murmurs, the tips of his fingers lifting your chin up. 

His thumb swipes over your bottom lip, and before he can rinse away his release, you lean forward and wrap your lips around him.

“My fucking God, you’re dangerous.” He kisses you, guiding you back beneath the water to rinse you off. You sigh into his kiss, finally letting the warmth relax you completely.

“We should get out soon,” you tell him.

“I don’t ever want to be away from you.” He shakes his head. “Let me at least wash your hair like I said I would.”

You laugh and roll your eyes. “You’re the one who got sidetracked, by the way.”

“And you love me for it. You said it yourself.” He beams at you, grabbing your shampoo from the shelf.

“That is the truth.” You wrap your arms around him and allow him to work his fingers through your hair.

After your hair is washed, the two of you get out of the shower. Both of you are beyond exhausted, so you end up right back in bed together, you curled into him like he’s a body pillow. He runs his fingers up and down your spine.

“Think Jisung’ll kill us?” he asks, sleep weighing down his voice.

“Who cares?” You listen to the steady sound of his heartbeat. “We’re happy.”

Chenle pulls you impossibly closer and presses his lips to the top of your head. If anyone told you when you first met him that this is how it was going to work out with Chenle, you would’ve laughed in their faces.

But life works in mysterious ways, and not only are you happier with Chenle in your life, but you’re a bit smarter, too.

[vivelegalite]

dear dead boy detective (especially paynland) enjoyers: have you yet heard of the biggest gift bestowed upon the fandom so far, aka jayden's charles playlist? the one he mentioned in interviews? well, he dropped it on twitter at 19th of may. and man, do i have stuff to say about it.

there's a lot of 80's bangers, for sure, great to get into the mood and character, but some of the choices...

i'm gonna focus on a few of my favourites, songs that made me go insane when i saw them. honorable mentions: - category 1 (so devoted the lines blur): ain't no mountain high enough by marvin gaye and tammi terrell, there is a light that never goes out by the smiths, inkpot gods by the amazing devil - category 2 (family life): family line and summer child by conan gray, seventeen going under by sam fender, matilda by harry styles, father by the front bottoms - category 3 (being queer in the 80s): smalltown boy by bronski beat, boys don't cry by the cure - category 4 (there's no heterosexual explanation for this one): good luck, babe! by chappel roan, yellow by coldplay, fight or flight by conan gray (is this about monty? the cat king? i need answers!), the prophecy by taylor swift, arms tonite by mother mother, sweet by cigarettes after sex, head over heels by tears for fears

this list is by no means complete or comprehensive!

and now, the songs that made me go the craziest: (they're predominantly in charles' pov as it's his playlist)

found heaven by conan gray

the only reason this song made it into the list and not the honorable mentions instead of smalltown boy is that it makes almost the same point, just so much more explicitly. i don't think i have to say much about it, it's a story of a young person griping with their queerness, being forced to leave home, a common theme of the playlist. "you're in love, you found heaven" when he chose edwin over his own afterlife, heavily implied to be heaven, and built his heaven with him on the mortal plane? ouch! (and we see this same notion repeated in another bop from the playlist, heaven is a place on earth by belinda carlisle).

2. like real people do by hozier

"i miss kissing" charles rowland, 202X romantic meaning aside, the verses show a sort of a common understanding the boys have around the manner of their deaths and their lives before it. we already know from the show they don't really talk about it, with edwin not knowing about the severity of the abuse charles suffered. it feels like one of them saying "let the past be past, we're together now, yeah?". but also, jayden: can there ever be a platonic explanation for this? ghosts can't touch, can't feel, so they wish they could just kiss like "real" (alive?) people do?

3. flaws by bastille

not the most romantic song, but i absolutely love how well it fits their dynamic. despite his edwardian brand of repression, edwin truly is the one that's more open about his feelings (recognising of course that in this case, the bar is so low it's in hell. haha, get it). edwin has worn his flaws upon his sleeve, and charles has held them buried - eg. bottling up all of his anger and resentment towards his family and his own death. the song presents a very sweet outlook, in which their flaws are brought up to the surface (for example, charles' outburst against the night nurse in episode 4), but they learn to accept them as they are, an extension of themselves.

4. a pearl by mitski

you know it's gonna get intense if there's a mitski song in the mix.

the song is about a person who finds love in their partner, someone who treats them way better than they've ever been treated - and yet they cannot bring themselves to reciprocate the affection ("it's not that i don't want you, sorry i can't take your touch") despite reciprocating the feelings themselves because of the trauma. charles is known to bottle things up ("you're growing tired of me and all the things i don't talk about"). the person in the song recognises the love the other person holds for them ("you love me so hard and i still can't sleep"), which reminds me of charles' response to edwin's confession. not a "no", but a "maybe, as time passes".

5. fair by the amazing devil

this one made me genuinely gasp when i first delved into the lyrics. it's simply so sweet, such a genuine and domestic portrayal of love. at first i thought it was way too open about being a love song (normal text instead of the subtext i'd be used to) for jayden to choose it with edwin in mind, but... there's no one else it can really be about. it's far too domestic, too "established" to refer to crystal. refers to a relationship that's laster for a longer while.

the narrator in the first verse is a person deeply in love with the other person, someone who loves to make his lover laugh and simply drinks in their presence. the "he" in the song i believe is charles, while the "she" refers to edwin. edwin promises to fight off anyone - or any feelings pulling charles down (we can see this in the first episode: "you ever think... what if death did catch us? she'd force us to go to the afterlife and split up" "i will make sure this never happens."). charles feels left behind by the world (seeing as he clings to crystal at first, refering to her as "someone their age who's still alive") and believes edwin to be so much stronger than he's ever been. i'm not going to break down the song verse by verse, but if you read it yourself while subbing out "he" for charles and "she" for edwin you'll see just how sweet (and... strangely very in character?) the song is.

6. work song by hozier

if the previous song made me gasp when i saw the lyrics, this one made me go "NO WAY" out loud when i saw the title. the first one verse is just pure toothrotting sweetness, but the chorus is what i want to draw attention to:

when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold, dark earth no grave can hold my body down i'll crawl home to her

HELLO? charles, who keeps escaping death and afterlife to be able to stay with edwin? charles, as he literally takes his last breath with edwin right there, choosing to be by his side rather than move on? charles, who keeps choosing him despite night nurse's promises and threats? charles, who literally crawled through hell for him?

verse 2, to me, can be interpreted as referring to when charles died. edwin found him at his worst, and he "woke" up with his presence comforting him. he was shivering due to hypothermia and his injuries. edwin didn't ask him about what happened or pushed him, he simply listened. the lines "i didn't care much how long i lived, but I swear, i thought i dreamed her" are pretty self explanatory.

in verse 3 we still see the same attitude of "damn the afterlife, at least we have each other" as charles portrays througout the series. they're free, and heaven and hell are simply words to him.

7. orpheus by vincent lima

i literally have no words for this one. it fits too well. if you want commentary for this one, just... i don't know, rewatch the staircase scene.

8. francesca by hozier

(cracks knuckles) this is the big one. the album francesca is from, unreal unearth, is based on dante alighieri's divine comedy, a fourteenth century poem about a man venturing into hell, purgatory and eventually heaven. the eponymous francesca is one francesca di rimini, a woman who was politically married off to a man older than her, called giovanni malatesta. francesca didn't love him, and eventually fell deep in love with giovanni's younger brother, paolo. the two carried on with the affair for years, before being murdered by giovanni upon his finding out. francesca and paolo are mentioned in canto v of the first book, inferno, as two souls damned in the second circle of hell, lust. their punishment is to be permanently locked in a hurricane, swept away by the winds the moment they manage to get close enough to touch one another.

as opposed to their portrayal in the poem, the song is from the perspective of paolo, explaining that no matter the punishment, he wouldn't change anything about his life because he got to know, and love, francesca.

the first verse brings to mind the scenes in hell, especially on the staircase ("do you think I'd give up? that this might've shook the love from me? or that I was on the brink? how could you think, darlin', i'd scare so easily?" as an echo of charles' "sorry. no version of this where i didn't come get you"). "my life was a storm since i was born, how could i fear any hurricane?" could relate to charles' tumultuous family life, an assurance that nothing he has to deal with while by edwin's side will faze him given the things he's lived through. no, despite everything he's suffered through, charles wouldn't do anything differently - because his (admittedly shitty) life led him to edwin ("i'd tell them, put me back in"). we already know charles would choose him over heaven, willingly sacrificing his own afterlife to stay with a boy he's known for hours, someone kind enough to keep him company as he drew his final breath. all of it - his father's abuse, his schoolmates' bigotry, the pain of his own death, as well as everything he's gone through since - he'd do it all again, for edwin.

"for all that was said of where we'd end up at the end of it" could be taken as an allusion to the fate the boys would meet at "at the end of it", when they're finally caught by death and separated, or as more of a general "if you sin, you will go to hell when you die" (up to you to decide what the sin itself would be - an interpretation that would work with other songs on the playlist is that one such sin would be same sex attraction). then their hearts ceased, they never knew "peace", nor did they want to find it in death. their deaths were too soon, them being ripped away from life, but even though it would break his heart: charles would ask to do it all again.

the outro, i think, beautifully pulls it all together: heaven is not fit to house a love like theirs.

to wrap it all up:

jayden, what were you cooking in there? what do you know??

[ghoulbrain]

one of the best throughlines for me between lucy and the ghoul is when he delivers that whole ass monologue about why torture is ineffectual. he says, "I mean, a man hurts me, I wouldn't wanna do him any favors. And yet the practice of torture failed to vanish from this earth. In fact, as time marched on, I've personally noticed a decided uptick-"

at this point, he lifts her out of the water and plucks a nasty little parasite off of her neck. he didn't have to do that.

"-in the amount of torture being doled out across the board."

lucy implores him, but he's not finished.

"My point is... if you ask me, them studies, they was right. Torturing a person doesn't do shit."

and of course he isn't torturing her. he's not interested in her suffering, but he is using her, and THAT'S his point. that's what people do. they use and they hurt each other. always have, always will. now more than ever. it's human nature, and she'd be a fool not to take this lesson to heart.

but lucy, GLORIOUS hero that she is, takes that lesson and shoves it up his ass at the very next opportunity. all the shit he puts her through certainly wizens her up to the nature of people, teaches her wariness, but she doesn't take it to heart. she teaches HIM a lesson.

golden rule, motherfucker.

[anathemafiction]

I saw on the forum someone say that the pirate king is not a full romance???? Is this true ana?? PlS tell me its not 😭😭😭

This is one of the reasons why I stepped away from the forum. I cannot tell you how frustrating it is to have people continuously invent facts about my work and then spread them to others as if they are absolute truths.  

It's like they think they have access to my notebooks and my inner thoughts and make the most ridiculous conclusions about the plot, characters, and, in some cases, myself as a person. 

Never have I ever said that the Pirate King or any other RO was 'minor'. They will all have full romance arcs — that's why they're listed as ROs. The Pirate and Neia, from the middle point of Book Two onwards (and, especially Book Three) will be two of the most plot-important characters outside of Romanus. 

I can't stop these people from making up things about the Rose, so I'll ask everyone else to please stop believing what anyone says about the game unless it comes directly from me. 

[dunmeshistash]

Literally right after I saw one of ur Milsiril posts today I saw another person doing a Mithrun analysis with a huge focus on Milsiril only helping him bc of ulterior motives and it makes me sad :( She’s such a soft mum that would teach her children anything. If anything she’s less overbearing than my Chinese mother

What are the arguments? I don't really get what she gets from helping Mithrun. I guess the thing she would be able to get is making him fight the demon.

But like, she's no longer a canary and there isn't really much to hint that's what she wants. This is her part in Kabru's version

My boy really fairy tale-fied his backstory, it just ends with "And from that point onward Mithrun lived only to slay demons. He ate even though he had no desire to eat. He lived on, even though he had no desire to live."

Which is objectively false, in this version it really seems like she lets him live cause he can still be used, but he can't.

This doesn't really look like a killing machine that can be used to fight demons does it. Kabru as usual oversimplified what happened cause as he said "the world doesn't need to know personal things like that"

Again with his timeline vs Kabru's

Utaya started and ended while he was still recovering, 20 years from being saved to being appointed as a captain again. I know elves see time differently but even if we do the divided by 5 that's still the equivalent of 4 years of his life if he was a tallman. I don't think that's a negligible amount of time and honestly I'm happy Ryoko Kui considered that recovery from something so traumatic isn't fast or easy.

I said Milsiril only started to help with his rehabilitation after she retired because of this bit. "Mithrun. I saw a demon in Utaya" the situation from arrival to destruction was at most one year, I can't imagine she was able to leave in the middle of it just to visit Mithrun?

So I always assumed she did it after retiring (perhaps one of the first things she did since she's still in canary uniform)

Even if she left in the middle the earliest this could have happened is 498 so at most from his 20 years of rehabilitation Milsiril was with him for 2. At the most.

To me her smile here is cause she's seeing a way to motivate him to eat

Doesn't really look like someone sinister or with ulterior motives to me, she has her eyebrows slighty furrowed and a forced tight smile. To me it looks like she's worried. The other point is that right before this scene this is what she says

Here she has a soft smile as she remembers that he was someone similar to her. I think she didn't kill him because she saw herself in him, and I think she tried to help him for a similar reason. "It was such a warped, convoluted place built from inferiority jealousy lies and anger" "We might have hit it off pretty well"

She isn't saying that to judge him she's saying that and acknowledging he was just like her. I don't think the fact she relates to him would have been set up right before she tries to motivate him to eat to show "ulterior motives".

If anything I think the ulterior motive she has is that she sees herself in him, and wants to help him to help herself. Which as 'ulterior motives' go I think it's fine.

Everytime I talk about Milsiril I end up with a huge text lmao, I think I might be repeating myself too but I wish I understood the arguments for a sinister Milsiril using Mithrun. I don't really see anything in the extras that could indicate that. And the biggest "proof" is a intentionally abridged version of Mithrun's backstory told by Kabru that ignores all of his interpersonal relationships in favor of a easy to understand cautionary tale.

Oh yeah, and Mithrun's bitchy past self that didn't trust or like anyone saying it,

[cobaltperun]

Genius (8) - R U Mine

Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader

Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part / Next Part

Word count: 2.5k

-And I can't help myself all I wanna ever say is, "Are you mine?"-

She really should have started writing her assignment, just so she could get it over with as soon as possible, but somehow, she just wanted to stay right where she was right now. In her bedroom, lying on her bed, engulfed in warm, soft blankets and your arms around her waist as she snuggled with you. It’s been a while since she relaxed like this, now, she wasn’t a morning person, but she rarely spent her free mornings in bed.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked her softly and kissed the top of her head. She straddled you and sat up with a teasing smirk on her face.

“How dare you be so gentle now? After you rocked my world last night?” she poked your chest jokingly.

You pressed a finger on your chin and looked up, acting as if you were in deep thought, the entire act completed with a soft hum. “Good point, good point, I don’t think you minded it thought,” you grinned, way too happy with what you did to her and for a moment she wondered how quickly could she get you hard and just leave you hanging.

Eh, that was a bit too cruel. Besides, you were right, though she wouldn’t admit it right now. In the throes of passion, yeah, absolutely, now that she was just cuddling with you, no, no way in hell would she admit how much you affected her.

“I’ll never say it,” she teased you, leaning down to kiss you.

You wouldn’t open your mouth for her though, and instead cupped her cheek and went for a more gentle, innocent kiss.

“I have your letter, it’s all the proof I need,” you laughed and well, she did confess how much she wanted you in the letter.

“I’ll burn it,” Cairo countered, not yet ready to admit her loss.

“You read it to me, I won’t forget it,” you had a point there, she had to admit that.

Well, she still had a way out, at least she hoped. “I’ll fill your brain with so many even dirtier thoughts you’ll have to forget it,” she whispered it in your ear, enjoying how sharply you inhaled at that.

Your pupils dilated as you looked her in her eyes, and she was sure her own eyes weren’t any less filled with desire and love she felt right now. She wasn’t ready to say it to you, that what she felt went above and beyond high school love, that she felt the madman’s love, and that she knew her feelings were returned. She felt it yesterday, she felt it as you took her, as the two of you burnt up in your emotions, all the desire and lust and need. She found it in you, the ruins of a friendship being rebuilt into the love that felt so right, that felt as if it was tailor-made just for her.

Maybe it was.

“Cairo,” her name rolled off your tongue so smoothly and she wanted to hear you say it more, she wanted to hear you say it ten years from now, twenty years from now, fifty years from now, with that same intensity and love in your voice. “What was on your mind?” you demanded, and she was at a loss on what to tell you.

“Us, this morning, yesterday, so many things at once. I just feel happy, I feel loved for the first time in a long time, maybe in my entire life,” she pressed her finger on your lips when you tried to speak up. “You asked why I pushed you away when we were kids, well,” she paused, moving from your lap and lying back down next to you. Her arms wrapped around you as she held onto you, knowing you wouldn’t disappear on her, but still needing to make sure.

“I wanted my parents to love me,” she began, knowing how confusing it must have sounded. “You remember how they were, right? Distant, uninterested, yet with high expectations,” she told you and felt, more than saw, you nodding. “I got a C on that test, remember? The one where only you and I got Cs and more than two thirds of the class failed?”

“I remember,” you told her, and she could tell you weren’t done. “If it was some other test I would have forgotten it, I can’t even remember if it was my first C or not, but I lost you right after it, and it just remained stuck in my memory,” you sighed, tightening your hold on her as you likely remembered how your next conversation went.

“They were disappointed, yelled all night, and I thought I’d make them happier is I stopped ‘wasting time’ as they put it,” she paused, buried her face in your neck and waited for your response.

“And one of those was the time you spent playing with me,” you said what she couldn’t and she just nodded.

“I thought if I did even better, if I never made any mistakes, if I was their perfect daughter, that they would love me more. They still pretend I don’t exist, like I’m the biggest mistake they ever made,” that was at the core of everything she did, she figured. Craving madman’s love, a love so strong it would consume her entirely, because she’s never been given the unconditional love of her parents she heard and read so much about. Perhaps, looking at it now that she was no longer trying to seduce him, she went after Miller’s love for that reason as well. Because deep down she felt like she needed validation from someone older, someone old enough to be her parent. Sure, Winnie’s talk pushed her toward Miller, but deep down, the key push was likely related to never feeling love from her parents. “I had you, and I gave you up for something I couldn’t ever gain,” she sighed, angry at herself for ever thinking that, for ever giving you up.

“Your parents are a special kind of fucked up,” you sounded angry, and though she knew any anger you may be feeling was directed at her parents she still worried some of it was reserved for her. “You have me now, we’re together, we’ll make up for the lost time,” you assured her as you gently rubbed circles on her back.

“I guess you would have left anyway, since your parents moved,” that was something that brought her some comfort, though it felt so hollow. “Right?” your silence made her prop herself up to look you in the eyes and the uncomfortable look on your face was enough even without your confirmation. “Y/N?”

“Not quite. I could have stayed, I just, had no reason to. And I could have come back two years ago as well,” you confessed, not wanting to lie to her, and she just looked down, processing the information as you sat up and pulled her onto your lap. “Cairo, listen to me,” you brushed her hair back, “Don’t get stuck on what-ifs, things worked out, and maybe they wouldn’t have if we stayed as best friends.”

It was a valid point, but at the same time, the fact that she was the one who gave you the reason to leave by not being your reason to stay hurt. She never considered that your departure could have been avoided, but then again, she never cared to learn more about the circumstances behind your parents moving. Maybe one of them could have stayed with you, or maybe they could have paid for someone else to make sure you were taken care of, they certainly had enough money to do what Cairo’s parents did.

It was also true that the past six years shaped both of you. Nothing proved that as much as how long it took her to recognize you when she first sat down next to you. Hell, she failed to recognize you in the hall, not that she paid much attention to you, even after Winnie said your name, she brushed it off as coincidence, as universe playing a cruel joke by reminding her of you.

In the end, you were right, thinking about what-ifs wasn’t helping either of you. “I still wish I didn’t push you away, I was stubborn, and then I was scared you were angry at me,” there, you had all the pieces of the puzzle.

“I knew you were stubborn, I guess I wanted you to come to me, we were children, immature, not realizing it didn’t matter how we made up didn’t matter as much as making up itself,” you understood, you weren’t angry at her, you accepted everything she said, and Cairo felt the weight she carried for so long being erased. She felt lighter, she felt even more loved.

“Are you mine?” she asked, bringing her lips closer to yours.

“I am,” you closed the distance and kissed her.

And there, with your lips dancing with hers, with your hands resting on her sides and her own holding you close to her, she did her best to convey, through her kiss, through her touch, to her soft moans into the kiss, that she was yours as well.

~X~

“Never fear, Winnie is here!” resounded through the mansion as you cleaned your helmet in Cairo’s living room to the soft tunes of Celine Dion playing in the background. Your helmet got really dirty, the mud and the rain didn’t do it any good, that was for sure, and you were surprised it wasn’t scratched, considering Cairo tossed it aside yesterday.

“That is exactly what I fear,” Cairo teased as she came into the living room just as Winnie barged in with the most flamboyant outfit you saw on her thus far. She had the bright sunglasses on, even though she was inside Cairo’s house, her skirt was longer, though still above her knees and it flowed a bit as she moved, but that was nothing compared to the flashy coat she had on, hanging from her shoulders as the sleeves magically flowed behind her back. Her shirt was so bright you wondered if you should go grab some sunglasses as well and she had several bags in her hands.

“Don’t tell me, there’s a secret government organization after you and this was your only disguise,” you grinned a bit when she raised her sunglasses and looked through the window.

“I lost her, for now,” she laughed, dropping down on the sofa close to you. “And it’s even worse than secret organization. It’s my art teacher, and I’m late for her assignment,” she cackled, tossing one of the bags toward you while you still had the helmet in your hands.

“Wait!” you yelled helplessly and fumbled a bit, but still managed to catch it.

“So that’s why I can’t see your underwear,” Cairo teased and sat down next to you.

“I’ll show it to you if it’ll get me a threesome,” Winnie tossed the second bag to Cairo and then took her sunglasses off.

Cairo rolled her eyes. “I’m not sharing,” she took out her chicken biscuits as you checked the content of your own bag and saw it was the same thing.

“Baby, you’d be shared,” Winnie said it so casually you nearly choked on the chicken you were chewing.

Cairo glanced at you and hummed. “You don’t know what I know,” and now you definitely choked, and she had to pat you on the back.

Winnie raised an eyebrow. “Share the spoils, also, that was quick, I didn’t think you’d lose your virginity before me, yet here we are,” the girl had no filter whatsoever.

“Not one word,” you warned Cairo as you tried to clear your throat and get rid of the awful feeling of nearly choking on food.

“And here I brought you lunch,” Winnie teased you and you just had to wonder how Cairo managed to deal with all the teasing, because, damn, the girl didn’t hold back. “Did you know Cairo dreamt about you? Like, way before you came back?”

Now it was Cairo’s turn to nearly choke. “Winnie!” she cried out, blushing furiously as her secret was revealed.

You just grinned and nudged her with your elbow. “Oh, you’ll never hear the end of this,” you promised her, and you decided you’d do everything in your power to get the details out of her.

“I’ll never tell you,” Cairo knew exactly what was going through your mind.

“Wanna bet?” you smirked and leaned over to Winnie. “Say, you’ve been her best friend these past four years. Give me some advantage here,” you nearly laughed at how betrayed Cairo looked at the moment.

Winnie raised her hand to her lips and pretended she was whispering, though Cairo heard everything loud and clear. “You could fuck her on your bike, or hear me out, reenact one of the smutty scenes she loves to read so much in return for the details,” she suggested. “I’m not sure how you’ll fill her with cum, but I’m sure she’ll be satisfied with 95 percent accuracy.”

Cairo glared at both of you. “She won’t have issues with filling me up,” she immediately got her revenge, and you watched as Winnie glanced down and then up to your face. “Yes,” Cairo confirmed it before Winnie could ask.

“So,” Winnie paused for a moment to clear her throat. “About that threesome,” she just laughed when Cairo threw a paper bag at her.

“I’ll go and get something sweet,” Cairo grumbled as she stood up and went toward her kitchen.

“You sure we can’t share you?” Winnie cackled when all she got as a response was a middle finger. “She’s happy, you know,” she suddenly told you and smiled, an actual, honest, no teasing whatsoever smile softened her face.

You tilted your head, not sure how she got that from this interaction.

“You still have some catching up to do, but she likely isn’t as open and relaxed as she was when you were kids. She’s absurdly stiff, and sure, she laughs, and smiles, but she’s just radiating from how happy she is right now. You see her, you love her, and she’s wanted that for so long, to be loved by someone who can take her loneliness away and take her away from here when she can’t do it for herself,” Winnie explained to you, and though she didn’t say it, you dared to think she left one bit unsaid, the part likely going along the lines: ‘you did something I couldn’t,’ because you saw just how much Winnie cared about Cairo, and you were thankful for that.

“I’ll get up to speed, I want to make her as happy as I possibly can,” you said, looking toward the kitchen. And you’d do just that, you’d do absolutely everything in your power to make sure she never felt lonely again.

A/N: How do I put this. Enjoy the happy times! We’re entering a bit of a angst part from the last third of the next chapter… Four chapters to go though!

Taglist: @deimaisgail @bee-keeping @marvelous-disaster @jmwetterlund @tekanparadiae

@alexkolax @ioveyouyouloveme @aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh @autorasexy @lifeforsimp13

@puta1 @minnyyminny

[pitchsidestories]

one kiss is all it takes II Laura Freigang x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1616

a/n: Hi, it's inspired by the request here, we hope you enjoy it. <3

Home games in Frankfurt were always something special to you.

But then again, you would never complain about away games either. You knew your traveling fans could make any stadium feel like you were playing at home. You liked that it gave you a few days to only focus on the upcoming game and leave your worries back in Frankfurt.

At least you would be focused, if someone would not point their camera at you once again…

You lifted both your hands, trying to shield your face from being photographed.

“Laura, stop it.“, you groaned. Why did she always have to have that stupid camera with her, even on the pre-game walk?

The young midfielder slowly dropped her analog camera and caught up with you: “Come on, it’s just a photo.“

“You always say that and then I see my face all over your instagram photo dumb account!“, you rolled her eyes at her.

Laura shrugged, a slight crease appearing between her eyebrows: “They always look good so I don’t know why you’re complaining.“

“Good? Sure, Freigang.“, you replied while you continued to walk.

“It’s true. Ask the others.“

You sighed reluctantly before turning to Sara Doorsoun who walked right behind you. Knowing her, she probably had been listening to the whole conversation, so you only asked: “Sara, what do you think?“

The German defender smirked slightly: “With the amount of pictures she is taking of you, I’d say Lau has a crush on you.“

You could not stop the involuntary laughter that came out of your mouth: “Good joke, Sara. She does that with Syd and Klara too.“

“Sure.“, Sara answered, unconvinced.

“It’s true. You don’t have to sure me.“, you warned her.

“I’ll sure you until you see it too.“ She gently bumped her shoulder against yours.

“The only thing I see is that Lau is the most annoying person on the team.“, you commented, your gaze fixed on Laura who was already a few steps in front of your again and back to taking photos of her other teammates.

Sara raised one eyebrow as she looked at you: “You think Lau is the most annoying person on the team?“

“Yes.“

The defender grimaced upon your answer: “I feel like you don’t hang out enough with the youngsters.“

“I agree!“, Shekiera Martinez’ voice piped up right next to you. “You’re always the first one to leave any party or team event.“

“That’s not even true!“, you protested.

Nicole Anyomi, looking effortlessly cool as always, gave Sara a look: “Right, maybe Sara is even quicker now that she’s seeing someone again.“

Saras cheeks turned slightly red: “Rude!“

“She’s got a point.“, you agreed with the young striker.

“Maybe.“, Sara slowly admitted.

You felt bad for your friend, so you casually distracted from her: “Also, that’s not the topic right now.“

“Right, this is about Laura and you.”, Sophia Kleinherne reminded your temmates with a mischievous smile on her lips.

“No, this is about Laura being annoying with her stupid photos.”, you rolled your eyes at her. You loved your teammates, but sometimes you wished they would care more about themselves than others, especially in this situation.

“You’d miss something if she would just stop.”, Lara Prašnikar threw in with an amused twinkle in her eyes.  

You let out a frustrated groan. Was this so hard for them to comprehend why you didn’t like what the blonde hobby photographer was doing.

“Not really. I like to keep my social media presence private, but she keeps posting me.”, you tried to explain your thoughts to the fellow players.

“Because she can’t stop thinking about you.”, Sara remarked, through the words her romantic being shone through which annoyed you even more.

“That’s stupid, Sara.”, you scoffed at her. Despite your protest, the sentence of the defender would haunt you through the day. Even when you laid down in the hotel room during the break, before you all would travel to the stadium. Could there be some truth to the older woman’s observation? She was never that far off when it came to love, except when it was her own heart which was so breakable unlike yours.

pictogangg why are you hiding your face, pretty girl? @y/n'sinstagramaccount

“Hi, y/n, did you see Lauras post?”, you shrieked while Barbara Dunst asked you this, you haven’t heard or seen her come into the room you shared.

“Yes, I did, Baba.”

“Don’t murder her before the game, okay?”, the Austrian joked laughing.

“Okay, but she needs to stop posting me with such captions. I’m serious.”, you sighed, pressing a white pillow to your chest to underline your frustration with Laura.

“Oh, everyone knows it’s just a joke.”, Barabara reassured you in a warm tone.

“I don’t like when people make fun of me.”, your mouth was formed to a pout.

“She’s not making fun of you.”, she disagreed seriously.

“What do you mean?”, you looked at her in honest curiosity.

“It’s just teasing. She’s waiting for a reaction.”, the midfielder told you in a matter-of-factly voice.

“Isn’t me being annoyed reaction enough?”, you wanted to know from your teammate who was a good friend of the woman who loved taking photos of you whenever she could.

“You mean the one where you’re pouting and ignoring her? No.”, Barbara shook her head.

“Oh.”

“But that’s something for after the game. Want to go and grab a coffee from downstairs, before we go to the stadium.”, the Austrian changed the topic cheerfully.

“I do.”, you told her while she was already on the way to the door, leaving no further room to think about what Laura exactly was waiting for.

Frankfurt won their away game with a hard-fought 1:0. You were relieved that you got the three points because it meant that you secured your spot as the third in the league and in the Champions League qualification. From the way your teammates celebrated around you, you could tell they felt the same way.

As you watched on, Lauras face appeared in front of you. A few stray hairs had escaped her slicked back ponytail during the game.

“Y/n? Good game.”

“Thanks.”, you replied politely.

It was clear to you that the midfielder was not yet done talking, so you waited for her to continue.

Laura took a deep breath: “Also I deleted all the pictures of you on my instagram account as you didn't seem to enjoy them.”

This revelation took you by surprise: “All of them?”

“Yes, I thought that's what you wanted all along.”

“I did. But all of that seems a bit… drastic, don't you think?”, you asked, trying to put your confusion into words.

“No. See you, y/n.”, Laura replied and turned around to leave.

Surprised, you watched her for a moment before you called after her: “Laura.”

The midfielder stopped in her tracks, looking back at you: “What?”

You bridged the gap between the two of you. The things your teammates told you were circulating in your brain.

You gathered all your courage and said: “If you like me, just say that.”

Lauras eyes widened for a second before she admitted: “I wanted to kiss you the whole season… when I scored against Barca, at every team event, when we secured the third place today… but I guess I've to accept that you don't feel the same so deleting the pictures was the first step.”

You were taken aback by her reply. There were a million things you wanted to say but what came out first was: “You should have said something instead of taking these stupid photos.”

“I hoped that way you would notice the person behind the camera.” Laura bit her lip subconsciously.

“I only noticed how much I hate being photographed!”

Your teammate studied your face: “I don't get why. You're just so beautiful and interesting. I love capturing you on film.”

You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks: “Just don't, Laura.”

She nodded slowly: “Okay, I‘ll respect that in the future.”

For a moment, you did not know what to say. She looked beautiful, standing in front of you and apologizing.

“And maybe I'll make an exception for you sometimes. Maybe.”

“Wait, what?” Her eyes immediately brightened.

“I do like a few photos to be honest. They carry some memories.”, you admitted with a shrug.

“Do you have any favourites.”, Laura asked in a genuinely interested tone.

“Laura, I don’t want to talk about the stupid photos right now.”, you groaned, hiding the face in your hand.

“What do you want to talk about instead?”, the blonde responded.

“This is why I hate it. You’re always busy with photography and never focus on the moment.”, you told her frustrated, you never felt the gap between you both by two years, you’re being the older more than in this moment.

“I guess there’s a truth to your words, but when all is over, I want to remember everything and pictures help with that.”, she confessed passionately.

“Can you just shut up and kiss me already.”, you begged her, at this point your patience has been gone, leaving only the yearning for the younger player to touch you.

Much to your surprise Laura did stop talking immediately and pressed her lips on yours, giving you a heartfelt kiss making sure you both would never forget the first one. Little did you know that a lot of firsts would follow afterwards. For now, all you and her did was enjoying the moment.

The first kiss would be one of your favourite memories. In your mind it was like a framed picture, you’d come to love to look at especially on bad days.

pictures are from pinterest.