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lowkeychenle · 1 month

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And Then It Was [ZCL] (M)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you alright?” he asks.

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not according to our sealed certificate.”

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

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

“Wrong again.”

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

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

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

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

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

When you laugh, his eyebrows furrow deeply.

“What’s funny?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About sex or babies?”

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

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

“Everything I do is out of obligation.”

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

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

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

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

“And what is it that you want?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Relieved?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not everything has to be—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That you will. Talk to you soon.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you for waiting for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s hardly an excuse—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you serious?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You helping me into the car?”

“You smiled at me.”

“We’re married.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want our children to marry for love?”

“Of course, I do.” He nods.

“Chenle, I…”

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

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

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

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

“I…I don’t know,” you reply, gulping.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wrong?” You tilt your head.

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

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

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

“What makes you think it bothers me?”

“You’re staring.”

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

“Chenle?” you call out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wouldn’t you love to know.”

“Truly.”

“I need to change.”

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

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

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

“My dress was dealt with minutes ago.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mr. Zhong, you have a visitor.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It couldn’t wait,” the man says.

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

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

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

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

“My father knows about this?”

“I’m not sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right.”

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

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

“What?” Chenle recoils. “Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” Chenle says.

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

“Are you alright?” Chenle asks.

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

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

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

“We’re married,” he points out.

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

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

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

“Not enough.”

“What else could we possibly add to that?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Why? Why envy me?”

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

“Chenle—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve always worked alone.”

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

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

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

“I—”

“Don’t think. Feel.”

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

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

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

“Which obligations?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Neither have you,” you point out.

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

“Together?” Your eyes widen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A date. Is it a date?

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

“What?” you inquire.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You mean earlier.”

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely.”

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

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

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

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

“That is a fear I have.”

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

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

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

“That’s correct.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re up,” he comments.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You look up to him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Something changed?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In here?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You looked really comfortable.” He shrugs.

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

“Yes, we—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’ve been married for two months.”

“Your mother was pregnant after three weeks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He said stupid things.” Chenle shrugs.

You chuckle. “You’re ridiculous.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, that’s hardly Chenle’s fault—”

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s enough,” you shout.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Today was going to be a long, long day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You give him a pointed look, and then pretend to be lost in thought momentarily. “Pretty sure that’s only when you make me mad. I guess married couples argue and then the wives send the husbands to the couch. But in this case, there’s an extra bedroom. Or twenty.”

“Can I…can I try something?” he asks, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Yeah.” You nod.

“Close your eyes,” he mutters.

If he was anyone else, you’d be asking a million questions. But this is Chenle, and you’ve grown to realize he’s exactly who he said he is. You trust him inexplicably.

“Wow,” he says. “Not even a sarcastic comment. I think I’m winning you over.”

You open one eye, push at his shoulder, and then close it again. You’re more than tempted to open them again when his hands cup your cheeks. His thumbs caress your skin, and your breath gets caught in your throat. Your heart races in anticipation as you await his next move, craving whatever it is he wants to give you. You gasp quietly when you feel his lips brush yours, and your body tenses.

“Relax,” he whispers. “It’s me.”

You don’t give him the opportunity to finish closing the distance between you two. You do it for him. Pushing yourself forward, you seal the kiss with him quickly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close to you. He curses against you, and you follow suit when he wraps his arm around your waist and lifts you onto the counter. For a brief moment, he pulls away from you, chest heaving as he pants.

“Chenle.” You hate that it comes out as a whimper, but you love the way he reacts to it.

He kisses you again, harder this time while one of his hands tangles in your hair and the other sits on your thigh where the hem of your dress is. Instinctively, to make your dress ride up your legs more, you lift one and hike it up around his waist. The fabric slips past his fingertips, now resting much higher than it was before. You pull him closer until he’s right up against the lace of your panties.

“Fuck,” he curses lowly, digging his nails into your skin. “You’d better think this through, darling.”

A shiver runs down your spine, but heat floods your core. You need him.

“Please,” you whisper to him, watching as his eyes darken right in front of you. When you let your hand travel down his body, you smirk at how his length hardens further beneath your touch.

“Shit.” His hips unintentionally thrust into your hand. “Fuck, we should stop.”

You drop your head against his shoulder, retracting your hand away from him. “Well, impotency definitely won’t be a problem.”

He kisses up your neck. “Sorry. I don’t want to get carried away. Or even more carried away, I guess.”

“Look at me.” You wait for him to listen to you. “You don’t have to hold back if you don’t want to. Your desires are just as important as mine.”

“Before we…do anything, I need to make sure I have condoms.” He clears his throat and removes your leg from around his waist.

“Wait, what?” You frown and lean away from him. “What do we need those for?”

“Are you serious?” He takes a step back.

“Well, yeah. We’re married. We need to have children, why would we use condoms?” You run your fingers through your hair.

He sighs and runs his hands down his face. “We talked about this. I was under the impression that we were figuring this out first and then worrying about how and when we’d have children.”

“We can’t do both at the same time?”

“Did you ever think that maybe I don’t want kids yet?” He tilts his head at you and narrows his eyes. “Yes, I understand that’s part of the deal and why we’re even married in the first place, but I don’t want to even risk having kids if I don’t know it’s really me you want.”

Embarrassment floods through you, and you slide off the counter and send him back a few more paces. You pull your dress down and grimace at the thought of being in a position like that.

“After everything we’ve talked about and the time we’ve spent together, you really think that’s not true? You think I don’t want you?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. All of this is confusing. And then our parents are here pressuring you into having a kid, and you’re—”

“Oh, my God.” Your jaw drops, and you brush off your skirt. “You’re literally the one who kissed me. And then you put me on—God forbid I ask a simple question, right? That must mean I’m trying to jump your bones to get my way.”

“(Y/N), that’s not what I said—”

“Maybe not, but that’s sure as hell what you meant. And here I am, like a fucking idiot, letting you touch me when you think that fucking low of me.” You clench your fists at your side, and you’re unaccustomed to the way your heart twists so hard in your chest. “God, fuck you.”

You turn away from him and stomp off, painfully aware of your over-exaggeration. The logical side of you begs you to calm down, since both of your concerns are valid, but the side of you you’re experiencing for the first time is stronger than what you’re accustomed to. When you make it upstairs and to your room, you sit on the edge of the bed and force yourself to breathe. Chenle’s assumption hurt you. It’s as simple as that. You’ve let yourself like him, and now he has this power over you. With a simple miscommunication, it feels like everything is falling apart before it even begins.

You blink rapidly to stop the tears from welling in your eyes, and eventually, you’re more annoyed by your reaction than by the actual situation. The door creaks open, and Chenle walking in makes relief flood through your veins. He moves over to you and sits down next to you, reaching over to grab your hand.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You nod and lean into his chest, craving his comfort. He sighs, wraps his arms around you tightly, and strokes your hair. With your ear pressed against him, you hear how his heart beats just as hard as yours.

“I think we both got a little carried away there,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” you agree. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I got so upset.”

“I’m sorry, too.” He kisses the top of your head. “It’s never my intention to hurt you. Or to make you regret anything we do.”

You sit there in silence, appreciating the comfort he gives you simply by being next to you.

“I was…I don’t know. Embarrassed, I think.” You chuckle at yourself, but you don’t find it funny at all. “That you would think I’d just…do that without being truthful to you. I’ve had a lot of men assume things about me throughout my entire life. Because of my success, it’s either from my father handing it to me or because I slept my way to the top. So, I’m sure you can see why I had trouble comprehending that as anything else.”

“And I hope you know that’s not what I was thinking at all. I know how much of an influence your parents have had on you. All I ever want to do is make sure you’re making your choices for you. I never communicated that I would want to use condoms if we started sleeping together because I didn’t really assume we’d get there.” He squeezes you closer to him and takes a deep breath.

“I’m also sorry for yelling at you.” You scrunch your nose up and look at him. “That was…really weird.”

“Weird?” A small smile pulls at his lips.

“I’ve never felt anything like that before. And it’s scary that you have that kind of power over me, even if I know you wouldn’t use it against me intentionally.”

“Learning how to manage those feelings will come with the territory. Have some faith in me, alright? I’m not saying things just to bring you down.” He tilts your head up, his gaze scanning over your face. “I want you to be happy. Obviously, bonus points if I’m a part of that happiness.”

“You are.”

“Good. You deserve only good things in life, and I need to make sure you get them.”

He leans down and presses his lips to yours, gently working your mouths together. You sigh into him and tangle your fingers in his hair. Everything about this feels good. It has warmth spreading in your chest from knowing someone in this world cares for you beyond what you can give them. You know he wants you, but you also know he’s going to have your best interest in mind.

He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours. “We’ll learn each other, darling. Everything will work out the way it’s meant to.”

Whether intentionally or not, you and Chenle keep your distance from each other for a couple days. Today, however, you’ve no choice but to be around each other later for the board meeting, where they’ll vote on the CFO position. And your COO position, but Chenle made it very clear that the vote was simply a formality. You choose a black dress, zip it up, put your earrings in, and head downstairs, where your husband waits for you by the door. He looks at you as you stop on the bottom step, a loud clack coming from your heel.

“Yes?” You tilt your head at him.

“Are those earrings new?” He buttons his suit jacket.

“Not new.” You shake your head. “I just haven’t worn them since we married.”

“Right.” He walks over to you and offers you his arm. “Do you like receiving new things?”

You loop yours through his and allow him to guide you toward the door. “I guess that would depend on the context of receiving.”

“If I buy things for you, will they be well received?” he asks.

“You think you know me well enough to buy me things I’d enjoy?” You bite back a smile as he leads you outside and to the car.

With his hand on the small of your back, he helps you into the backseat before following. “I think I’d figure it out fairly quickly. I’m a smart man.”

“They…would be received. Maybe not well, but received nonetheless.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, relaxing against the seat. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I can’t make it too easy for you.” You purse your lips, and without much thought, you scoot closer to him and place your hand on his.

“I don’t think easy is the right word for most things when it comes to you.” He laughs, turning his smile toward you.

“Most things?”

“Being with you is easy. Or around you, I should say. You’re pleasant company. Easy to have an intellectual conversation with, easy to relax around. Those are the easy things.”

“Wow.” You bite back your grin. “You sure know how to woo a woman.”

“Not just any woman,” he interjects. “My wife.”

“Your wife.” It’s the first time you’ve called yourself that out loud, and it has a weird, unrecognizable feeling sprouting in your stomach.

“I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but it seems like you’re coming around a little bit.” He nudges you gently. “I’m not sure how it’s possible, but I’ve missed you the past few days. After the other day, I wanted to give you space in case you didn’t want to see me, but I should’ve thought to ask you.”

He stares down at where your hands are connected, his thumb rubbing against your skin.

You fight the urge to touch his face again. “I…I’ve missed you, too, I think.”

“You think?” Humor laces in his tone.

“I don’t know. I’ve never wanted to be around someone like this before.” You shrug, heat gathering in your cheeks. “Forgive me while I navigate whatever’s going on inside my brain.”

“I want to know everything you’re thinking,” he murmurs, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Every joke, unimportant sentence, emotion, process. I want to know you.”

You lean forward and press your lips to his without a single thought in your head, but he reciprocates with ease. Almost as if he’s not taken off-guard in the slightest.

“I could get used to that,” he says against your lips. “No more silence, okay? I don’t want to be away from you.”

“No more silence,” you agree.

When the two of you pull away from each other, your eyes widen at the sight of your lipstick on his lips. You grab his arm to stop him from getting out of the car and use your thumb to wipe the excess away.

“Made a mess, did you?” He grabs your wrist to stop you. “You don’t want anyone to see that you like me that much?”

A grin follows his words, and he grabs his handkerchief out of his pocket.

“No one can know I actually have a heart,” you interject, watching as he wipes his mouth.

“Alright.” He puts his hand on your knee and squeezes. “Are you ready?”

If there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s the overwhelming attraction you have for Chenle. You take him in for a moment, the dark sweep of his hair parted to reveal his forehead, the way he grips you, the way he watches you as if you’re the only person in the world to exist.

“Before we go,” you start, chuckling quietly at yourself for the question you’re about to ask him. “Did…did you ever get condoms?”

His lips part in shock, and he blinks and flounders for words for a solid few seconds before he clears his throat. “I…I mean, I did, but not because I thought we would—it was just a precaution, you know?”

“Do I make you, Zhong Chenle, so nervous that you’re stuttering right now?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He pats your thigh. “Absolutely, you do.”

You silently thank whoever made this car for the partition between the driver and you and Chenle. “I could do so many other things to you that are so much better.” You gently touch his tie, wrapping your fingers around the fabric and pulling on it to bring him closer to you.

“I truly have no doubt that’s true.” He wets his lips. “If we don’t get out of this car in the next ten seconds, I’m having the driver fucking turn us around. We can’t miss the vote.”

“I guess receiving the title of COO is a little more important than banging my husband.”

“Fuck, I need to get out right now.” He glances up at the ceiling and throws the door open without any more hesitation. Like usual, he turns and offers you his hand.

You take it gratefully, and you loop your arm through his once your feet are safely on the ground. While you follow his lead, you realize something that has the gears in your brain turning. Chenle is the only man you’ve ever accepted guidance from. As miniscule as it seems to allow him to walk you inside, you can’t deny how you’d willingly follow him wherever he may go.

The vote does go off without a hitch, and not even half an hour after you receive your title, you’re in an office plugging away at whatever work needs to be done. Unfortunately, you’re awfully distracted by the thought of Chenle by himself down the hall. A knock on the glass door jolts you out of your thoughts. You see Jeno standing there with a file in his hands. You beckon for him to come in, and he gestures at the seat as if to ask you if he can sit.

“Please.” You nod, folding your hands together. “Did you need something?”

The man hands you the file. “We were able to trace the owner of the bank account, and an address associated with it. I…I figured it’d be best to leave this information with you, given that this could be sensitive information.”

You open it, glancing through the charges. “It started with a different bank account and name.”

“It did. Payments were originally made to a Liu Shuye, and just over two years ago, the bank account switched to a Liu Sujia.” Jeno pauses and takes a deep breath. “I think it’d be better for you to do this portion of it on your own.”

“They have different surnames.” You tap your pen on your desk. “And you’ve never heard of this person before today?”

“Not once.”

“Very well.” You sigh and close the folder, gaze meeting Jeno’s. “Thank you. I’ll look into this further and determine at what point Chenle needs to be involved. For now, Jeno, keep this between us.”

“Of course.” Jeno nods and stands. With a quick bow of his head, he moves to the door. “He’s a good man, (Y/N). Chenle, I mean. But he feels too easily, so tread carefully with whatever you find.”

“I will.”

Once Jeno departs, you cross your arms over your chest and stare down at the information delivered. These payments were made for years, so you’re unsure of how this could relate to Chenle in specific, but you feel an overwhelming resolve to make sure whatever this is doesn’t hurt him.

Chenle came to get you from your office at almost 7pm. He refused to let you work any longer and insisted he had to take you home. Your mind has been turning since Jeno brought you the documents, but you leave them buried in your desk and lay your head on Chenle’s shoulder for the duration of the car ride home. Once you're inside the house, Chenle takes your jacket off your shoulders and hangs it. You turn to him and grab his hand.

“Come to bed with me?” you ask.

“Of course.” He gives you the softest smile, and as you walk up the stairs, he follows closely behind you.

The two of you step inside his room. Chenle closes the door and then wraps his arms around your waist and tugs your back to his chest. He buries his head in your neck, a hum escaping past his lips.

“Are you tired?” you ask him, reaching up to play with his hair.

“No,” he mumbles. “I just want to be close to you. It’s been a long day, and you make me feel better.”

“Is that so?” You face him and tilt your head.

“I was scared to fall for you, too,” he whispers. “For anyone, but especially you. I know the reasons we’re here are vastly different from a conventional marriage, but I already wanted you before all of this.”

Your heart thuds in your chest as you realize his use of past tense. He was scared. Does that mean he already has fallen for you?

“C’mere,” you mutter. “We can be closer.”

“Are you sure?” He cups your cheeks, thumbing your skin. “I know we’ve gone back and forth a couple times, but I need you to know you don’t have to do anything for me. Ever.”

“Kiss me, Chenle.”

All events of the day are forgotten as soon as his lips are on yours. His hands explore along your back, fingers clenching onto the fabric of your dress as he inhales shakily. When he pulls away, it’s only for a second, as if he can’t stop himself from going back for more.

“Please tell me this means something to you.” He gulps, his words punctuated by kisses as he turns you around and walks you backward. “That I’m not crazy for wanting you the way I do.”

As the back of your knees make contact with the bed, you grip onto his shoulders, breathless from the passion behind his kiss. “You’re not crazy. It’s terrifying how fast you’ve become all I think about. Your smile and your laugh and the passion you carry. This means everything to me.”

His eyes sparkle in the lamp-lit room, a warmth dancing around in them you’ve never seen from anyone before. He finds the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down.

“I hope you truly know how fucking exquisite you are,” Chenle murmurs, removing the fabric from your body and returning his touch to your back to explore your bare skin. “I don’t want to fight these feelings anymore.”

“Do something about it, then.”

The heat radiating from him keeps the chill of the air in the room off of your skin, and after he guides your back down on the mattress, he haphazardly tosses his suit jacket away. You scoot back to give him more space, and he climbs on top of you. You part your legs further, nearly gasping when he takes his spot between them, pressing against you as if he were made to fill that space. As he takes your lips with his own, you work on the buttons of his shirt. Your hands shake, making it difficult, but he doesn’t mention it. He keeps kissing you like he’ll die of thirst the second he pulls away.

You finally get the last one, and he sits up briefly to rid himself of the extra material. Before it’s even completely removed, you reach down for his belt. He stares at your hands as you unbuckle it, but you don’t have time to slide it off him. When his mouth crashes into yours again, you lift your hips up.

A quiet, needy sigh passes through his lips. “God, I fucking need you so bad.”

“I’m yours,” you tell him. “Show me how much you need me.”

He grinds down against you, and his hard length slides against the wet spot in your lace panties. That time, you do gasp. It’s been much too long since you allowed yourself pleasure by another’s hand, and you crave that closeness with Chenle.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, voice rough.

“Please.” You nod. “Touch me wherever you want.”

He curses under his breath, but he presses his lips to yours once more, then along your jawline, down your neck, and paying attention to the valley between your breasts. He squeezes the right one, rubbing his thumb against your nipple through the somewhat thick material.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” He nips at your skin, and you already know he’ll leave marks on you. Pausing, he takes a deep breath. “You—you’ve done this before, right?”

“Done what?”

“Sex.”

“I have. Why?”

“No, I just…you said you’d never been in love before and I didn’t want to just assume that you—”

“Just keep going.” You blush, but he listens to your command without hesitation.

When his mouth continues downward, leaving a trail of his saliva on your stomach until he reaches the hem of your panties. He tongues along the band, his eyes flicking up to yours.

“Good God,” you whisper, the urge between your legs becoming far too much for comfort. “What are you doing?”

“Getting my fill.” He leaves open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs.

When his thumb brushes your clit through your panties, your hips jolt. You curse, grasping onto the sheets as you prepare yourself for whatever he has planned. He smirks at your reaction, and as he pulls at your underwear, you lift up to urge him to move faster. He wraps his arms around your legs, his hands pressing your hips down into the mattress. Even though he opens his mouth to speak to you, his eyes don’t leave your glistening core.

“You can stop me if you change your mind. Just tell me.” He gulps, wetting his lips like he’s struggling to hold back.

“I won’t change my mind,” you reassure him.

“But you need to know it’s always an option.” He squeezes you gently, and without awaiting your response, he slides his tongue from your entrance to your clit.

No matter how embarrassing it is, you can’t stop the whimper escaping you. His tongue flicks your clit one, two, three times as he digs his nails into your skin. Pleasure isn’t entirely foreign to you, but you’re sure it’s the way your soul has begun craving Chenle’s that makes this so much better than anything else you’ve experienced. His grip on you keeps you from squirming too much, but you try regardless. As he steadily moves over your clit, your back arches off the mattress. Whines leave your mouth as you run your fingers through Chenle’s hair in encouragement.

He takes your sensitive bud into his mouth, sucking to add pressure, only to release it and start all over again. You lift yourself on your elbows to watch him, all while practically pushing his head further between your legs. His eyes are closed, and seeing his lips work on your core has to be one of the most erotic things you’ve ever witnessed.

“You taste so fucking good,” he groans, the vibrations against your entrance sending shivers up and down your spine.

You feel yourself approaching the edge. Your body tenses, but your high won’t take you. Cursing quietly, you lift your hips in an attempt to figure out why the hell you can’t get out of your head. Chenle pulls away from your core, pressing kisses to your inner thigh. “Relax, darling. It doesn’t matter how long it takes.”

“Please just…” You drop your head back on the mattress and let out a defeated breath. “I want all of you.”

He leans over to the bedside table and grabs a condom, trailing his lips up your body once more until he reaches your neck. His teeth graze your skin. “You can trust me, (Y/N). I’ll take care of you.”

“I do,” you mutter, running your fingers through his hair. “I swear I do.”

“It’s not me you have to convince.” He nips your collarbone. “We don’t have to keep going if you’re not ready.”

You shake your head. “I’m ready. I want you.”

“Okay.” He nods, pulling back to meet your gaze. His features are soft, nothing short of adoration in his eyes. “Try not to think about it too much. Just feel.”

“I’ve never been good at that.” You chuckle and grin at him.

“I’ll show you how, baby. I’ve got you.”

You crane upwards to kiss him, and he meets you in the middle. Tasting yourself on his tongue has you sighing into him, and you push at his pants in hopes that he’ll take the hint. He pauses to rid himself of the rest of his clothing, and then slides his hands beneath you to unclasp your bra. You arch your back to give him more space, and soon enough, nothing separates you from your husband anymore.

“You’re sure?” he asks you again, grabbing the wrapper once more.

“I want you,” you confirm.

Despite the confidence you usually feel, something here feels more…vulnerable than you’ve ever been. Your heart flutters in your chest as he opens the condom and slides it on, and you spread your legs further as he climbs over you again. No man has ever made you nervous before, even in similar situations, but something with him is different. You care about him. You want him to feel good, too, and you crave his promises of taking care of you.

“Need you to relax,” he whispers, peppering kisses on your jawline as he lines himself up with your soaked entrance. “Close your eyes, darling, just let yourself feel.”

You tilt your head back to give him better access to your neck, and you listen to him. Through the darkness, you see the world you drew on his ceiling, the one with beautiful landscapes, overarching mountains, fresh, clean streams, and you sigh in content. The middle of the map, the location you craved to be in, is right here. With him. His breath catches in his throat as he slides inside you, his length stretching you. He gulps and rests his head on your shoulder as he attempts to steady himself. You tangle your fingers in his hair, combing through the midnight strands. After both of you calm down from the initial overwhelming movement, you wrap your legs around his waist and lock your ankles together, tugging him up to kiss you. His lips work softly on yours, and he slowly grinds against you. He pulls out until only the tip is inside, and as he pushes back in, he moans into your mouth. Your body shudders at the sound.

“Tell me how it feels,” he says, chest pressed to yours. “How do I make you feel?”

“Chenle, I—” You blush despite the situation.

“You don’t have to be shy with me, baby. Let me help you.” He repeats his previous movement, and you watch as his eyes flutter from the pleasure. “I can tell you how it feels for me.”

You nod. “Please.”

The pace he sets is slow but has electricity coursing through your veins anyway. He continues to pull out almost all the way, just to allow you to experience the entirety of his length rubbing against your inner walls.

He gulps, pressing his lips to your ear. “You’re divine, darling. You’re squeezing me so tight, I could stay here forever. It’s like you were fucking made for me, soaked and so fucking warm, baby, you take me so well.”

Everything he does is like a lightning strike, every fiber in your muscles breaking down as you yearn for this completion. You know you’ll never be able to stay away from him. Even if you don’t finish, this journey is just as good as the destination.

“Feels like I’m on fire,” you whisper. Thankfully, your eyes are closed, or he’d see them roll back. “You’re everywhere and it’s still not enough.”

He picks up his pace a bit, and a moan tumbles from your lips. He holds himself up on one of his elbows, his other hand gripping your thigh.

“That’s it.” He kisses you, gently biting at your bottom lip as he pulls away. “I could never have enough of you. Need you always. Forever.”

Your heart thuds against your ribcage, and despite the pleasure clouding your brain, you allow those words to sink in through your skin and bones, deeper still until they reach your soul. There, they repeat over and over again until they’re permanently tattooed upon every recognizable piece of yourself. The hand on your thigh skirts downwards, his palm pressing on your abdomen as his thumb brushes your clit. You jolt and whine, digging your nails into his shoulders. He curses, but doesn’t let up. As the knot forms in your stomach, you open your eyes to watch Chenle, his face scrunched in pleasure as your walls flutter around him as your high approaches. He doesn’t look away from you, and as you lift your hips to match his thrusts, his fist clenches the sheets next to your head.

“So fucking wet,” he groans, his thumb never faltering in pace as he rocks his hips against yours. “You’re so perfect, darling. Gonna let me feel you cum?”

Between the slide of his length inside you and the pressure on your sensitive bud, you’re dazed at best. You nod, gripping onto him.

“I’m so close,” you whimper. “God, I want it so bad.”

Chenle adjusts his hips, and the next time he thrusts in, he hits a spot that has you seeing stars. You’ve never unraveled like this before, but your body shakes as overwhelming pleasure takes over, your vision spotting as you cry out and grip onto your husband. Your toes curl as he quickens his pace, and it doesn’t take much longer for him to press himself as deep as he can to finish in the condom. His body slumps on top of yours, his chest heaving as he presses his lips across your hot skin.

“(Y/N)...” he says between pants. “Oh, my God.”

You let out a breathless giggle. “I didn’t do any of the work.”

“Promise you, just you being here is more than enough for me.” He kisses your cheek and gently removes your legs from his waist. “I’ll be right back.”

You stop yourself from whining at the loss of him inside you, but as he goes to dispose of the condom, you get yourself clothes to put on. You slide a new pair of panties on before setting your silk pajama set on the bed.

Chenle’s arm wraps around your waist, and he presses his back to your chest. “What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed.” You chuckle. “What should I be doing?”

“Absolutely nothing.” He presses a kiss to the base of your neck. “Supposed to be naked in bed and waiting for me.”

“Ah, is that so?” You pretend to be in thought, tapping your fingers on his wrist.

“Mhm. Don’t you know bare skin-to-skin contact promotes good bonding?” He pulls you away from the foot of the bed and guides you back to where he left you. “Bet you’ll sleep better, too.”

The two of you climb into bed together, and despite the way your internal temperature is much too high, you still thrive in the extra warmth of his embrace. You rest your head on his chest, his nails gently scratching up and down your back. He falls asleep first, his steady breathing nearly lulling you as well. You adjust your head on the pillow so you can see the softness of his features, and you allow yourself to reach up and trace along his cheekbone. If anyone had asked you at the beginning if you’d ever thought a moment as intimate as this were possible, you’d quickly tell them no. There was no way you’d ever let yourself be so vulnerable with anyone. Especially not someone who has no obligations to you other than legally marrying you.

But this is more. It’s so much more than a business arrangement, and maybe a part of you has always known that. It wasn’t hating him you were scared of, but loving him.

But here you are. And you’re long past falling.

Your morning is unfortunately hectic in the wake of the events of last night. Of course, you should’ve expected moments of relaxation in your marriage to be nearly non-existent, but neither you nor Chenle wanted to get out of bed. Despite that, today you planned on going to the address listed on the bank account. You roped Jisung in, even though he didn’t know all the details. He’s your cousin, after all, and he wasn’t going to let you do anything potentially dangerous on your own. Although, you’re not sure he could do anything in a ‘dangerous’ situation anyway. He may be physically giant, but he truly acted like a teddy bear.

You and Jisung sit in the backseat while the driver takes you to the house, and you’re flipping through a binder of papers while Jisung is on his phone.

“You know.” He pauses, waiting for your attention. “I stopped by your house last night.”

You turn to him and frown. “You did? How come I didn’t see you?”

“When I arrived, the staff said it would be best not to interrupt you at the time. They didn’t really say why, but I can only imagine. Either you and Chenle were in the process of murdering each other, or you guys are really going all in on the heir making.”

Your face heats up and you scratch your head. “I—I took your advice, is all. We’re kind of trying to figure things out, I think.”

“Uh huh. So the turtleneck isn’t a strategic move?”

“Park Jisung!” You push his shoulder. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“No, of course not.” He bites back his teasing grin. “I’m just saying, it’s good that you’re opening up to him. You guys are pretty much stuck together, so you should at least try to make the best of things.”

“But yes, we are certainly…making the best of things.” You grin to yourself and focus back on your binder.

“So, I can stop hearing your dad complain about no heir news soon?” He rolls his eyes. “That man is truly insufferable.”

You shake your head. “Can’t say the possibility is zero, but we used protection, so probably not. And yes, my father is insufferable. When he came over last time, he implied Chenle was impotent in front of both of his parents.”

“I’m shocked by both—why not try for pregnancy if you’re already sleeping together? And why would you not being pregnant after two months mean Chenle’s impotent?”

“You just live for drama, don’t you?” You quirk an eyebrow at him. “My husband would prefer to only have a family if it’s a real one. Meaning we would love each other. And I don’t question my father’s logic. I’m not sure how he got as far as he has in business when he lacks so much common sense. Like I’m a breeding mule or something.”

“Huh.” Jisung pauses and slumps back against his seat. “Aren’t you lucky?”

“Luck has nothing to do with it, Andy. None of this is short of hard work.”

Your driver opens the door, and before Jisung can respond, you’re stepping onto the sidewalk. The house in front of you is in a suburb, an exact replica of everything else around it. It’s not remarkable by any means. For someone making over half a million dollars every year, they sure do still live modestly.

“Don’t say a word,” you warn Jisung. “I’ll handle this.”

“Considering I have no idea what’s going on, I will happily let that happen.”

You stop at the front door, knocking three times. Standing completely rigid, you wait for anyone to answer. Once it opens, you’re confronted by a surprised woman. Her hair is long and black, reaching the center of her back. Brown eyes widen in shock.

“You can’t be here.” She moves to shut the door, but Jisung stops it over your shoulder.

“I’m—”

“You’re Chenle’s wife. I know who you are.” Her jaw tightens. “You need to go.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not an option. I’m here on company business, because apparently someone decided sending $143,000 a quarter to your bank account was acceptable. You can let me in, or we can make a spectacle out here. It’s your choice.”

The woman, who can’t be too far from your age, blinks through her frustration and opens the door wider for you to step inside. You do, and she gestures to the couch.

“Have a seat. I’ll grab us all some water.” She exits the room, and you and Jisung sit down on the couch.

Despite you being resilient in hiding your nerves from people, Jisung is able to read you like a book. “Don’t jump to conclusions,” Jisung warns you quietly. “You have no idea what’s going on.”

“Right. Only her being familiar enough with my husband to only use his first name. Not a big deal at all.” You clench your fists together.

“You said he had no idea about the payments.”

“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t know her.” You shake your head. “He has no idea I’m here.”

Movement catches your attention, and you see eyes peeking around the corner. Your jaw drops before you can stop yourself, and then the small child steps into the open. You grasp onto Jisung’s sleeve, and those conclusions he told you not to jump to? Yeah, you dive into them.

“Who are you?” he asks. He can’t be more than four, and he looks achingly familiar.

“Jisung,” you whisper.

Jisung leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m Jisung. Who are you?”

“My name is Yichen.” He walks over and sits on the coffee table in front of you and your cousin. “I’m almost five.”

“Wow,” Jisung feigns surprise. “You’re getting so old.”

“That’s what my mommy says, too.” He scrunches up his face.

You’re struggling to breathe at this point, and that’s when Sujia decides to come back. She curses under her breath the second she recognizes her child in the room, and she quickly sets the glasses of water down before shooing him back up the stairs. You’re suddenly, painfully aware of Chenle telling you he’s been in love before. Of knowing there are women out there he’s wanted in the same way he’s sure he wants you.

“I think I’m going to puke,” you whisper to Jisung, careful not to let Sujia hear. “You don’t think…?”

Before Jisung can confirm or deny whether your suspicions are valid, Sujia sits across from you on the couch. The first thing you do is look for a ring on her finger, and when you don’t find one, you feel an unmistakable lump form in your throat.

“Why are you here?” she asks. “I’ve done everything I was supposed to. I haven’t told anyone anything, and my son and I are peacefully living far away from everything.”

“That’s the issue. I haven’t the faintest clue who you struck some sort of deal with for this money, nor do I know why. And if you want the payments to continue, you’ll tell me everything.”

“Is there something in specific you’d like to ask?” She frowns.

“What makes you say that?”

“You suddenly look like you’re ready to rip my throat out,” Sujia retorts.

“The child. Is he Chenle’s?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Sujia visibly recoils, eyes widening as she glances between you and Jisung. “You…Are you joking? Of course not. Chenle—dear God, Chenle’s my brother.”

You swear your life flashed before your eyes, and as you drop your head into your hands, you let out a shaky sigh of relief. Your heart still races, but it starts to slow at the news that your husband doesn’t have a secret child.

“I’m sorry, your brother?” Jisung asks. “I wasn’t aware Chenle had any siblings.”

“No one is. That’s why we’re receiving the payments.” She pauses, wetting her lips. “Chenle’s father—our father—met my mother many years ago. I see him quite often, and he’s aware he has a grandchild. I figured he never told Chenle, and this confirms my suspicions. Considering his parents never divorced, I can only assume it’s because she is also unaware.”

“He recently became aware of the payments.” Because of you. “And quite honestly, I don’t think this news will sit well with him.”

“Don’t.” Sujia shakes her head frantically. “Don’t tell him. We…We need that money, okay? And he has full power to take it away from us.”

“Do you know anything about him?” you ask her.

“Just what our father told me.”

“Chenle is exponentially kind. He’d never simply cut ties and leave you to struggle. It’s not like you lied to him by choice.” You take a deep breath and brush your skirt off. “He’s the best man I know. And for that reason, I could never intentionally keep this from him. I’m sorry.”

“I understand.” Sujia runs her tongue along her teeth.

“And on the off chance he doesn’t continue payments, I will personally make sure you’re okay.”

“You actually care about him.” She tilts her head at you.

“It’s hard not to care for someone like him.” You stand up. “I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time. And for thinking your child was my husband’s. Thank you for talking to me. Can we exchange numbers? I can keep you updated on how things go.”

You make haste of retrieving her number, and then you and Jisung leave the house. Once you're back in the car, you let out a long, pent up breath. You tug your fingers through your hair and curse quietly.

“Are you okay?” Jisung asks.

“Honestly? I’m okay now that I know this isn’t Chenle’s fuck up.” You nod. “I think I need to pay his father a visit.”

“You’re going to confront…his father?”

“I’m going to confirm the story, obviously. And if it’s true, I’m going to tell him what an incredible fuck up he is.” You turn off the emotions switch, your face going stone cold. “Chenle looks up to that prick.”

When you arrive at his parents’ house, you’re greeted by staff and Chenle’s mother. Jisung opts to stay in the car, and his mother rushes to bring you further into the house.

“Ah, (Y/N), what a pleasant surprise.”

Not if she doesn’t know about the secret child.

“What brings you here?” she asks.

“Chenle requested I bring these files for his father. Is he here?” You smile at her.

“Of course. He’s in his office. It’s down the hall, all the way to the back on the right.” She pats your shoulder.

You bow your head to her in thanks, and then you make your way down the hall. Knocking once, you await his confirmation to walk in. He sits behind the giant desk, glasses hanging on the edge of his nose. You note a lot of Chenle’s features come from him, but you can’t believe how vastly different they truly are.

“(Y/N).” He leans back on his chair. “Was I expecting you?”

“No.” You approach him and drop the paper with her bank account information on it. “Liu Sujia.”

His eyes widen, barely noticeably, and he looks at you. “Where did you hear that name?”

“Did you think no one would notice payments that high to a random bank account? From the company?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. A bank account means nothing. You can’t even be sure I was the one facilitating such payments. Chenle has been CEO for years now, so it’s been under his nose, too—”

“I don’t need your excuses. Or your explanations. You’re not my father, and quite frankly, I don’t care about the state of your family.” You glare at the man in front of you. “But I also spoke with Ms. Liu. She has a child. Your grandson, and Chenle’s nephew. You think he doesn’t deserve to know?”

“If you don’t care about the state of my family, why are you doing this now?”

“Because I care about my family. And the second Chenle married me, he became part of it. And while you may not love your son, I do. I won’t let you lie to him.” The words fall right out without a second thought, and you fight the embarrassment of admitting your feelings to his father before Chenle.

“So, why come here? Why not go right to Chenle?”

“I’m sure he will have his own things to say to you later. I wanted the chance to let you know, objectively, what a selfish asshole you are. Your son idolizes you for the life you built for him. For showing him that a man can be loyal to a wife he may not love, if not for his child’s sake. But you weren’t. Everything he respects you for is a lie, and you’re despicable for being okay with that.”

“How dare you come into my home and talk to me this way?” His eyebrows furrow in anger, and he leans forward, but you don’t even flinch.

“I don’t fear you,” you hiss at him. “You are human, just like everyone else. If you deserve to be scolded like a child, I have no problem being the only one with enough balls to do it. If you lose Chenle because of this, I hope you lie in your fucking grave. I’ll pay people to dance on it.”

You turn your back on him, throwing the door open and stomping down the hallway before you give him the opportunity to say anything else. Sending a smile towards Chenle’s mother, you nod once at her before walking back outside to your car.

Gaining the courage to tell Chenle takes much longer than you’d like. You get back to your office, finding Chenle waiting for you. He smiles at you, one of his genuine, happy ones, and presses a quick kiss to your lips as you approach him.

“I never thought I’d find a time where the CEO’s not busy,” you tease him. “What are you doing here?”

“I figured we could take a break and go get some lunch.” He tugs you closer. “It’s been a long day, and all I want is to be with my wife. Is that so wrong?”

You purse your lips and tilt your head. “Wrong? No. Crazy? Maybe a smidge.”

“Wow, you just called me crazy. That hurt.” He chuckles.

“How about we just order something and eat it here?” you ask. “I have a bunch of stuff to do, but I would love for you to be with me.”

“Of course. What did you want to eat? I’ll tell the secretary to order it.”

“Whatever you’re thinking is good,” you tell him, leaning back on your desk. “I’m not too picky.”

“I’ll be right back.” He kisses your cheek, and when he closes the door behind him, you let out a sigh. It feels like you’re lying to him now, but you couldn’t drop something huge like that on him now.

Not when he was looking at you with such affection. What if you telling him this makes him hate you, too?

When he comes back, he sits across from you and rests his head on his palm. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” You frown at him. “What do you mean?”

“You’re just acting…different, I don’t know. Is this about last night? Did I do something wrong?” His forehead creases with worry, and your heart sinks in your chest.

“No, no, last night was good. I really liked last night.” You try to fight off the embarrassment at your words, but it doesn’t work very well. The tips of your ears burn.

“Okay.” He reaches across the desk and grabs your hand. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going on. As long as I’m not the one making you feel that way, I can wait until you want to talk about it.”

“Chenle,” you whisper, squeezing him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being you.” You glance down. “For not being what I expected.”

“I want to take care of you. Not because I think you can’t, but because I want to. I can be a safe space for you, and I’d never do anything to harm that image.”

You stand up and walk over to him, grabbing both of his hands. “I think I might be able to let you do that.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this.” He pulls you closer until you’re straddling his lap. “You amaze me every day.”

“We’re at work,” you scold him.

“I don’t see you trying to move,” he teases, palms exploring your back. “I was kinda sad we had to rush this morning. I would’ve loved to just lay there with you for as long as possible.”

You relax on top of him, fighting a smile as you study him closely. “I need to stop wearing lipstick.”

“Why?” he asks. “Do you wanna kiss me again?”

“I want to kiss you a lot.” You nod.

“I can wipe lipstick off.”

“What if mine gets smudged?”

“Tell people to mind their business. We’re newlyweds.” He watches your expression as his hands dip down to grip your ass through your dress. “I think the newlywed era started yesterday. Because all I want to do is be with you. All over you. Inside you.”

“Jesus Christ, Chenle.” You smack his chest. “Composure.”

He grins. “C’mon. You were thinking it, too.”

“We certainly can’t do it here,” you tell him.

“It’s my building.”

You give him a pointed look. “I’m trying to get your employees to respect me. They won’t if they think I’m here simply because I let you screw me on the desk.”

“I gave you the position before I ever even slept with you.”

“They don’t know that.” You roll your eyes and clamber off his lap. “There actually is something I wanted to talk to you about later at home. Are you leaving at a decent time?”

“I figured we’d leave together whenever you were done. If that’s okay.” Chenle clasps his hands together in his lap.

“Perfect.”

Before you do anything else with him, you need to tell him about his father. You just hope you don’t lose your husband in the process.

You bring the binder home with you. On the car ride home, you loop your arm through Chenle’s and rest your head on his shoulder. He can sense your nervous energy and tries to soothe you with a kiss to your head. You and Chenle go upstairs, and you sit on the edge of the bed. He follows suit despite your nerves transferring into him the longer you stay silent.

“I wanted to talk to you about that charge we found.” You put your hand on his knee. “And it’s a lot, okay? So I just want you to listen to me.”

He frowns but nods in response.

“Jeno and Jisung helped me with it. Jeno found out the account belonged to a woman, and there was an address associated with it. Jisung went with me to the house, and when we got there, I met with the woman.” You pause and scratch the top of your head. “She has a little boy. He’s almost five. And to be honest, it was a possibility in my head that you might’ve…I don’t know, accidentally fathered a child, but thankfully, it wasn’t that.”

“(Y/N), who is she?”

“She’s your sister. Your half-sister, I guess.” You gulp, refusing to make eye contact with him. “And the little boy is your nephew.”

“Oh.” His voice shakes uncharacteristically, and he inhales.

“Your dad has been paying her and her mother off for years so you and your mother didn’t find out.” You close your eyes. “And she begged me not to tell you because she’s scared she’ll stop receiving her money. Which I get, honestly, but I couldn’t keep this from you. Not when I know how—”

“(Y/N), please. I need a second.” He drops his head in his palms. His jaw tightens, and he angles his gaze to the ceiling.

“Come here,” you murmur, opening your arms for him. Immediately, he melts into your grasp, resting on your chest as you stroke the top of his head. “I’m so sorry.”

He grasps the fabric of your dress in his fist as he uses you to ground himself. “The whole time I admired him for being better, he just fucking sucked?”

You can’t tell if it’s anger or sadness that makes his voice shake.

“You’re sure?”

You nod. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that,” he tells you. “You didn’t do this.”

“No, I didn’t, but I love you, Chenle. I hate seeing you like this.” You and Chenle both tense up. He lifts his head to look at you, and your heart nearly shatters at the welled up tears in his eyes. You keep looking at him, more than nervous for his response.

“What?” His voice is hoarse, almost like it’s caught in his throat. “What did you say?”

“It’s not important right now, okay? I wasn’t thinking.” Your own tears form, and you try your best to blink them away. “No thinking, just feeling didn’t really work in this situation, huh?”

“You love me?” He cups your cheek and turns you to him. “Do you mean that?”

“Are you kidding me?” You scoff. “Of course, I do.”

You shouldn’t have done that now, given how overwhelmed he is, but it truly slipped out. He stares at you in shock, and when he parts his lips, a tear slips down his cheek. You shake your head, reaching forward and wiping it away with your thumb.

“Don’t cry,” you say. “This is all so much, I shouldn’t have dropped that on you like this, I’m so sorry—”

“Stop apologizing. Please.”

“I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

“Darling, at this point, you’re the only one who hasn’t.” He rests his forehead on yours. “And you…you loving me makes all of this worth it. Nobody has that power over me when I have you by my side.”

“I do. I love you.” You sniffle and hold him tighter.

“I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you walk into the room. I love you when you’re a thousand steps ahead of me, and I love you when you’re walking my pace. All the time, without fail and without reprieve.”

Every bit of oxygen is stolen right from your lungs, and all you want to do is scream and cry and punch his father in the face. Such a pathetic man doesn’t deserve a son like Chenle.

“Zhong Chenle, you’ve broken me in all the best ways. That terrible wall, the shell around my heart…I don’t want to face the world alone anymore. I need you with me.” You rub your thumbs along his cheeks, swiping up the next couple tears that fall.

“I will be better than my father. Than yours. We’ll do this the right way, okay?” He inhales sharply.

“I don’t doubt that one bit.” You lean forward and kiss his forehead. “What are you thinking? What do you want to do about all of this?”

“I’d like to meet her. My sister. And my nephew.” He chews the inside of his cheek. “She won’t have to worry about money. We’ll have to stop paying her through the company, but it’ll come out of our personal account. If that’s alright with you.”

“Somehow, I had a feeling you’d say that. Of course, that’s okay with me.”

“Can you set that up please?” he asks softly. “I honestly don’t know how, and she already knows you so…”

“You don’t have to explain. I’ll do it.” You run your fingers through his hair. “You’re the bravest person I know. Not everyone would handle it the way you are.”

“We’ll figure this out, yeah?”

“Between the two of us, there’s not a problem in this world we couldn’t solve.” You kiss the tip of his nose and stand from the bed, holding your hand out to him.

“What?”

“I was thinking we could take a bath. Help each other relax.”

He gives you a tired smile and nods. “That sounds amazing.”

You start the water and put a more-than-appropriate amount of the bubble bath liquid in it. Tying your hair up to prevent it from getting wet, you smile to yourself when you feel Chenle’s hands on your waist.

“Need some help getting this off?” He tugs on your dress.

“I might need help with everything,” you hum, letting your eyes flutter shut as he unzips your dress.

Once it's thrown across the room, you unbutton Chenle’s shirt, pushing it from his shoulders. Soon enough, both of you are beneath water and bubbles, and his arms are locked firmly around your waist. You rest against his chest, allowing the lavender scent to soothe your stress.

“Y’know what we’re missing?” you mumble. “Champagne.”

“I can have someone bring it to us. Just say the word.” He kisses your temple.

You shake your head. “We’re naked.”

“They’re professionals.” He laughs and squeezes you. “And I can have them leave it in the bedroom.”

“Right, and make sure there’s a heart made out of flower petals on the bed.” You roll your eyes.

“You can have anything you desire, (Y/N). You’re my wife. The sky’s truly the limit.” He explores your skin out of curiosity, mapping his way around your body.

You sit up and look over your shoulder at him. “You know what I want?”

He raises his eyebrows in response.

“I want it all.” You grab his hand. “I want you. The good days and the bad ones. Whatever trial comes our way, I want us to figure it out together.”

“Do you…Do you actually want children? Or is that something you feel like you have to do?” he asks.

“Honestly, I don’t know. There was a brief moment when I met Sujia and Yichen that I thought…I thought that he could’ve been yours. I mean, he looks like you a little bit, but he’s your nephew so that’s not weird. When that became a possibility in my head, it hurt. Stung, is more like it. I guess I figured that any children you’d have would be mine as well, and to think there were others you might have—”

“Darling,” he coos, tightening his grip on you. “I promise you, I do not have any secret children. Nor will I ever. You will be very, very aware of any child I have. I don’t want them if it’s not with you.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“That’s good.” You nod and lean back against him once more. “We have time to think about it, right?”

“Take as much time as you need.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You hesitated to have Chenle meet Sujia so quickly. A week passes before you consider reaching out to her, and you know Chenle is waiting for it. She has to be too, at this point, probably worried about whether or not her money supply was going to be cut off. He has yet to confront his father, but you assume that will come with time. For now, you’re curled up next to him in bed, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. Finally, it’s a rest day for you both, and you get to spend the whole day with him uninterrupted.

His fingers run through your hair, a deep breath passing by his lips. “Darling.”

“Hm?” You move closer to him, burying your head in his neck.

“Kiss me?”

You don’t hesitate to do as he asks, humming against his lips as the two of you connect. He shifts to his side to get closer to you, his hand trailing from your hip, down your leg, until he finds the back of your knee. Pulling your leg over his waist, he shuffles closer to you, pressing his body to yours.

“What are you doing?” you ask him, smiling.

“Loving you,” he replies easily, sliding his hand back up to your ass. The thin fabric of your shorts does little to hide the sensation of him squeezing you. You don’t mean to gasp, but you attempt to distract him by tangling your fingers in his hair.

“Tell me what you want.” You pull back to get a good look at him.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he admits. “How fucking good you made me feel.”

“More.”

“You’ve been telling me you love me for a week now and I haven’t been able to hear it when I’m inside you. God, I never thought I’d be like this. It’s only been a week.” He squeezes you harder, pushing his hard length against you.

As he grinds himself slowly into your core, you curse and wrap your arms around him. “Why did you wait this long?” you ask him breathlessly.

“Didn’t wanna push you.” He kisses along your neck, nipping wherever he can reach. “Don’t want you to think this is all I want. Fucking been hard all day, darling. Every time you walked into the fucking room all week, instantly ready to bend you over.”

Your body shudders as you process his words. “Why don’t you lay back? Let me take care of you.”

“I need you so bad,” he groans. “I could cum just hearing you talk like that.”

You push him onto his back and quickly straddle him. Rolling your hips, you curse under your breath as you feel his hard length against your clit.

“Chenle,” you mutter, trailing your hands beneath his shirt. “Do you prefer ass or tits?”

“That’s an odd question.”

“You won’t regret answering.”

“Ass.”

“Perfect. Do you have a condom?” You raise your eyebrows at him.

“They’re in the bedside table—darling, I didn’t prep you yet—”

“You’re not the only one who’s needy,” you interrupt him, quickly moving to grab one of the wrappers. Before you climb on top of him again, you kiss his cheek. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want, my love. You don’t have to ask.”

You shove your shorts and panties down, and as you pull at his sweats and boxers, his fists clench at his sides. His length smacks against his stomach, and he wraps his fingers around himself to relieve some of the ache. You didn’t get to see it much the first time, but you take a second to appreciate just how fucking pretty he is. He’s so hard, it’s probably starting to hurt.

He runs his thumb over the tip and gasps. “Baby, please.”

You waste no more time in getting the condom on him, and then you straddle his lap again, but backwards this time. As you quickly sink down on his length, taking him all the way inside, he moans loudly.

“God, you’re so fucking hot.” He drags his nails down your back until he reaches your ass, and then he grips you tightly with both hands. “You needed me, too, huh? Dripping all over me when I haven’t even touched you yet.”

You brace yourself on the mattress between his legs, and set a fast, steady pace. He moans every time you sink all the way down, and your fingers curl into the sheets. You easily ignore the ache beginning in your thighs when you listen to him and how good you’re making him feel. He spurs you on, his moans slowly turning to higher pitched whines.

“Can we—fuck, can we try something?” Chenle asks, gripping your hips to hold you still.

“Whatever you need.” You shakily lift yourself off of him, and he quickly moves from below you. He removes his shirt before aiding you in doing the same.

He guides you to arch your back, your face pressed into the mattress as your walls clench around nothing. His tip catches on your clit, and your body jolts, but you grip onto the sheets instead.

“Gonna fuck you good, darling. Wanna hear you the whole time, got it?” His voice sends needles of pleasure pricking into your spine, and you know you can ignore everything else once he’s buried inside you.

“Yes.” You nod. Your fingers curl into the sheets as he slides in. The angle has you seeing stars, and your mouth falls open at the sensation.

His hands squeeze your ass as he starts slowly, the rub of him against your walls making your legs tremble already. You worry briefly about being too distracted, but as reaches around you to put his hand between your legs, all thoughts besides the way he feels completely obliterate. He rubs your clit in pace with his thrusts, his breathing uneven as he works your body as if he’s touched you for years. You barely recognize yourself when your moans slip past your lips. You’ve never let go like this before, and through your daze, you push yourself back against him. He tentatively smacks your ass, light enough to make you crave the contact. You can’t breathe as you curse.

“Again,” you whine, your entire being on the brink of collapse. “More.”

“Earn it, baby,” he commands. “You know what I want to hear.”

You let out a shuddering breath as his tip nudges that spot inside you. “Fuck, I love you. I need more.”

He smacks you harder this time, and the loud, needy moan that pours from your lips gets distorted by the way he starts to slam his hips against you. His fingers speed up on your clit, and you’re already teetering on the edge. Sounds of your arousal emanate around the room, mixing with both of your moans. His skin clapping against yours has every muscle in your body craving the release you know is so, so close.

As your high smashes into you like a tidal wave, the pleasure is so overwhelming, you cry out and clench onto the sheets. Chenle curses as his thrusts begin to falter, but you barely hear him. You’re much too sensitive, and you whimper as his fingers still work your bud. Without warning, he pulls out of you. You whine at the loss, attempting to push back, but he grips your hips and flips you onto your back. Gasping at the sudden movement, you grab for him as he climbs over you.

“What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly.

“I need to see you, darling.” He inhales sharply as he pushes back inside you. “And kiss you.”

His lips connect with yours as he keeps his steady pace. His chest rubs yours, the heat almost unbearable as your tongues fight for dominance. A groan slipping out of his mouth interrupts your kiss, and next thing you know, he’s as deep as he can get, panting against your collarbone.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “I love you.”

“Me too,” you reply, breathless as you run your fingers through his hair. “I love you, too.”

“That wasn’t too much, was it?” He peppers kisses anywhere he can reach—your neck, your chest, your shoulders.

You shake your head. “No, I’m just a little surprised. You can tell me when you want me, you know. You don’t have to wait for me to initiate.”

“It’s been…an interesting week, you know?” He pulls out of you, kissing you softly one last time before he goes into the bathroom to get rid of the condom. When he comes back, he lays down on top of you again. “I came twice.”

You recoil, angling your head to look at him. “Just now?”

“Yep. Came when you were on top of me, too,” he hums in content. “And I’ll have you know that’s never happened to me before.”

“Had someone on top of you or finished twice?”

“The second one.” He pauses. “But I—”

“You don’t have to explain.” You snort. “I have a past, too.”

“That’s good. Don’t wanna move,” he mumbles, pushing his head further into your neck.

You laugh. “Don’t, then.”

Chenle falls asleep fairly quickly, and you kiss his forehead before wiggling out from under him. You grab a new pair of panties and slide them on before grabbing one of his button-downs. It’s much too late for any of the staff to be out and about, so you grab your phone and head to the kitchen. When you look at the screen, the worry settles back in the pit of your stomach. Sujia had texted you forty-five minutes ago, asking you for an update on the situation. After a week, you think Chenle has probably had at least a little bit of time to come to terms with everything. You text her back to let her know Chenle wants to meet her, and then you get your water. You don’t want Chenle to ever feel hurt like that again, but it’s not going to just disappear. You know better than that. But it doesn’t change how seeing him so upset broke you to pieces, too. If you could, you’d ruin anything that even tried.

He was right all along.

Being in love doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It makes you stronger. Gives you a purpose other than what is required of you when you’re from certain bloodlines. From the beginning, you were sure Chenle would never—could never—mean anything to you, and even though he told you otherwise, you had to find out for yourself. You’d start wars for him. You’d do anything to make sure he was okay, because at the end of the day, he truly is the only person to love you without conditions involved. He cares for you not because he has to, not because he’s forced to, but because he wants to. Because he chooses to. You refill the glass for Chenle and head back upstairs. When you open the door, he stirs, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he turns and sits up.

“Where’d you go?” he asks, running his fingers through his hair.

“Water.” You hold the glass up and set it next to him on the bedside table. Standing at the edge of the bed, you look at him, unable to fight the small smile forming.

“What?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“You’re just…” You chuckle and shake your head. “Shut up. You’re just really cute like this.”

He holds his arm out to you. “Pinch me. I’m pretty sure I’m still dreaming.”

“Oh, you’re hilarious.” You smack at his wrist.

He tugs gently on the bottom hem of the shirt you’re wearing. “I like this on you.”

“It was the first thing I found.” Embarrassment climbs through you. “Sorry, I should’ve asked.”

“What part of that sounded like I wanted you to ask?” He snorts. “You’re always welcome to anything here. You should know that by now. But you’ve been away from me for way too long. C’mere.”

He opens his arms for you, and you chuckle and climb into bed next to him. When he lays on his side, he tugs you to follow suit. You listen to him, staring into his eyes while his thumb rubs on your hip through the white fabric.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“For what?”

“For trying with me. Not running away. Letting me love you. The list is honestly endless.” He kisses your forehead. “Not to mention I really would’ve fucking lost my mind with all of that stuff last week if you hadn’t been there.”

“Speaking of.” You shuffle closer to him. “She wants to meet you. And I really think you should do it, because at the end of the day, she’s your sister, you know?”

Chenle hesitates, thousands of emotions crossing through his gaze like a storm. “You’re right. You can set it up for whenever, and I’ll be there.”

“I’m sorry this happened, Chenle.” You intertwine your fingers with his. “And I want you to know that, no matter how you’re feeling, you can tell me. I want to help you process.”

“I’ll be okay, darling. Truly. It’ll just take some time getting used to it. I do think it’ll be nice to have a sibling, although she’ll probably hate me for…I don’t know. Being legitimate?”

You laugh, burying your head in his neck. “You’re not taking her money away, so I doubt she’ll hate you.”

He hums quietly, sleep still heavy in his voice as he pulls you flush against him. “I shouldn’t be able to love you this much yet. Slow down, would you?”

“You, of all people, should know that those words do not exist in my vocabulary.” You close your eyes and breathe him in. “I love you, too.”

Sujia sets the day for the upcoming Saturday, and so while the days pass, you witness Chenle slowly lose his mind. He’s not upset at Sujia at all, but he obviously is with his father. It’s an incredibly large secret to keep from your family, so he has every right to those feelings. The entire car ride to her house, he’s squeezing your hand so hard, you fear he’ll cut the circulation off. His leg bounces restlessly, and the frown hasn’t left his face once today. The driver opens the door, and you get out first to at least attempt to lessen your husband’s nerves. You’re unfortunately aware of the straggle of photographers waiting for the two of you. While you’re not sure how they found out about this, you’re not worried about them in the slightest.

Once Chenle’s on his feet, you loop your arm in his. “Be calm. There are cameras, so at least wait until we get inside to freak out.” “Yes, ma’am.” He sends you a sly grin. The two of you approach the door, and you knock. Sujia opens the door quickly, ushering the two of you inside to prevent herself from being seen. Chenle removes his sunglasses, and you take them from him to put in your purse.

“(Y/N), it’s nice to see you again,” Sujia greets you. You nod at her. “Likewise.” “Chenle, you’re a little more intimidating in person.” She clasps her hands together. “Are you guys thirsty? I’ll get some water.” “Actually,” you say, patting Chenle’s arm. “Why don’t you two get your sibling introductions out of the way, and I’ll just play with Yichen. He’s my nephew, too, after all. And I’m pretty sure I scared him last time.” The two of them both flounder for words, neither of them wanting to be without you in a moment like this.

“It’ll be okay. Seriously. Neither of you bite, and Sujia, he’s actually really sweet. He just looks like he hates everything.” “As you can see, my wife is my biggest fan.” He presses his lips into a thin line as he fakes a glare. “Anyway.” You smile at Sujia. “I assume the child is upstairs?” “Yes, but if you want him to not be scared of you, you may want to refer to him by his name or something other than ‘the child.’” She scratches the top of her head.

“God, there is so much I could learn from you.” You separate from Chenle’s side and head for the stairs. Much to your pleasant surprise, your nephew…in-law? is already stomping down the stairs. “Oh.” The kid purses his lips. “You’re back.” “I am.” You nod and scrunch your nose up. “I figured while your mommy talks to my husband, we could…I don’t know. Play a game or something? Do kids do that?” “You’re weird.” Yichen grimaces. “But you’re nicer this time than you were last time. So yeah, we can play with the Switch.” You don’t end up actually playing, but you do watch Yichen’s game with interest. Leaning forward with your elbows on your knees, you analyze the process he uses when he plays every round.

“You’re smart,” you comment. “My mommy tells me that, too.” He nods, seemingly unaffected by your compliment. You pause for a moment. “Does your mom…compliment you a lot?” “Uh, I don’t know.” Yichen doesn’t start the next round, but turns to look at you. “Does your mommy compliment you a lot?” You laugh. “Yeah, no. Definitely not." “Are you—”

“Yichen,” Sujia calls out. “Can you turn the game off please? There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Without a second thought, he turns the Switch off and yells to his mom to tell her he’s ready. He sits next to you on the couch, folding his hands together in his lap. You’ve met a lot of children in your day, but you never imagined one could be so well-behaved. You see the panicked look on Chenle’s face as he walks in. A laugh almost erupts from you, but you hold it back. The man is meeting his nephew for the first time and can’t seem to shake the nerves away. You can only imagine what it’ll be like when he meets his own child. You tense the second that thought crosses your mind.

When?

A legitimate chill runs down your spine, and then you realize how close Chenle has gotten. He squats down in front of Yichen, and Sujia leans against the archway into the kitchen.

“Hey,” Chenle starts. “I’m your uncle. And you’re my nephew.” “Oh, wow.” You really didn’t think it could get any worse than you. “Do you know her?” Yichen nods his head towards you. Chenle smiles. “Yeah. That’s my wife. So that makes her your aunt.” “She said her mommy doesn’t compliment her.” His eyes widen. “Is she a bad person?” Your husband lets out an exaggerated gasp. “No way. She’s the best person I know.” “How?” “Well, she told me about you and your mommy when nobody else did. She’s really, really smart and, c’mon, she’s gorgeous. What else could I want in a wife?” Chenle grins, sending a quick glance your way. “I guess you’re right.” Yichen shrugs. “Do you wanna play a game with me?” “Absolutely.” He nods in response. You stand to give Chenle room, touching his shoulder lightly as you go to stand by Sujia. Leaning on the wall next to her, you quickly realize attempting to take your eyes off of your husband is futile. “He likes kids, huh?” Sujia asks. “He really likes family,” you reply.

“Do you want children?” “Oh.” You chuckle to yourself and fold your arms over your chest. “I’m not sure. But we…don’t really have a choice. We signed a contract and heirs are part of the deal.” “I’m sorry, but I really don’t envy you,” she tells you. “At the end of the day, it’s not that bad, though.” “So, you and Chenle actually love each other.” She hums, tapping her foot. “I feel like that’s rare for people in your positions.” “It is,” you agree. “And honestly, had it been up to me at the beginning, we wouldn’t even be…friendly. We’d be tolerating each other.” "Wow, he fought for you.” Humor laces in Sujia’s voice. “Well, I told him that I’d rather tolerate him than learn one day that I might hate him instead. He was entirely right when he said it wasn’t the hate I was scared of. It was love. Of relying on someone else.” “At least you can rest assured that he would be a good father.”

You don’t respond for a moment, watching Chenle interact with his nephew. They must win something in the game, because they dramatically high five each other. The smile on Chenle’s face is wide, and your heart flutters as a result.

“Yeah.” You fight your own grin. “Yeah, he really will.”

You and Chenle are at Sujia’s for hours. It’s clear the two of them are similar, and thankfully, your husband seems to enjoy having a family member other than the ones who have disappointed him. Yichen warms up to you both, and by the time you’re leaving, he’s hugging you both goodbye and asking when you’ll be back. Chenle is still smiling as he leads you back to the car.

“That went a lot better than you thought, huh?” You ask as he helps you into the backseat.

“I don’t know what I thought.” He shakes his head. “But it’s cool not to be an only child. Even if it’s unconventional, you know? And that little kid is freakin’ cool.”

You lean on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re making the best out of this situation.”

“Actually, do you mind if we make one more stop?”

“Of course not. Where to?”

“I think it’s time I had a conversation with my father.” He pats your leg. “And I could really use your support.”

“Chenle.” You tilt your head at him. “If you don’t know by now that I would follow you anywhere, you’re not as smart as I originally thought. We may have to reconsider this whole thing.”

He sucks in a deep breath through his teeth, holding back his laugh. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that contract is pretty air tight.”

“Damn.” You roll your eyes and kiss his cheek. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

“The luckiest.” He lifts your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles. “Can’t even joke about that one.”

Chenle isn’t even nervous as the two of you approach his father’s office. He grips your hand tightly, but his resolve has never been stronger. Despite him doing this on his own, you feel an odd swell of pride deep in your chest. You’re so proud of the man he’s always been, and how he only ever wants to be better. His father already knows what’s going on the second he sees you both. At that point, Chenle releases your hand and drops his folder on the desk.

“What’s this?” his father inquires.

“A lawsuit,” Chenle replies nonchalantly.

You almost gasp in shock. And while you shouldn’t be enjoying the awkward tinge in the atmosphere, you feel like you need a bag of popcorn right now.

“I’m sorry?” He recoils in shock.

“You seem to forget that when I became CEO, you no longer had any claim to the company’s profits. And if I did my math correctly, which I did, $143,000 a quarter is roughly $572,000 a year, which is a grand total of $2,288,000 from the four years I’ve been seated in the CEO position.”

“Chenle, you have no right—”

“You don’t tell me what I have the right to do, actually.” Chenle buttons up his suit jacket. “So, you’ll be paying me back the money you owe me. That you stole from me to protect your little secret from getting out. But that must really suck, because you actually delivered a handwritten apology letter to Sujia and to your wife and your mistress and me and the employees at the company that’ll be announced in about ten minutes. To the whole world.”

“Your mother cannot know about this. Whatever you’ve done, you reverse it immediately.” The angry expression on his face does nothing but make Chenle grin.

“Your secret’s out, Dad. Crazy how you had two children and never learned how to be an actual father.” Chenle brushes himself out and points at the folder on the desk. “I’d read that. You might wanna think twice before fighting it.��

“You’ll understand one day,” his father replies. “There’s more to life than marriage, and it’s only a matter of time before you—”

“I will never be like you.” The smile immediately falls from his face. “I love my wife, and I’m not a fucking coward. I don’t need a second family because the first one wasn’t good enough for me. This is the last time you’ll hear from me. And you won’t be receiving any money from my company again. I hope you’re happy with yourself.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, your lips parted in shock as you realize what’s happening. Your husband turns his back on his father, gently holds out his hand to you, and shoots one last ice cold glare over his shoulder as he leads you out of the room.

As soon as the door shuts behind you, you laugh in disbelief. “Chenle, holy shit.”

“Dude, my adrenaline is fucking crazy right now.” He chuckles and blows out a deep breath. “That was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done in my life.”

“This might be terrible to say, but I am…so attracted to you right now.” You blush as you squeeze his arm.

“So, nothing but good things today.” He helps you into the car.

Once he shuts the door behind him, you climb onto his lap and kiss him. He groans in surprise, his hands immediately finding their place on your ass.

“What? You like when I put people in their places?” he teases you, leaning forward to barely brush his lips on yours.

“There were a lot of things I liked from today.” You unbutton the first button on his shirt. “It was…very hot of you to absolutely destroy a man like that. You held your ground and…I don’t know. The tone of your voice was sexy.”

“My God, am I learning things about you today.”

“If it helps you, I’m also learning things about myself, so.”

“Mm, please tell me what else you’ve got hidden up your sleeve.” He squeezes your ass gently, pushing you closer so you feel him hardening in his pants.

“I think…we should throw every single condom away. Permanently. We’ll have an endless amount of babies for you to play games with. Of course, you’ll also have to tell them I’m gorgeous, but—”

“You’re serious.” His jaw drops, hope sparking behind his eyes. “Darling, you better not be joking about something like that.”

You shake your head. “I’m not joking. You were on to something when you said you wanted everything. A real life, a real love, a real family. Why don’t we have it all?”

“Right now? You want kids now?”

“If we’re gonna have twenty, we really have to start now, otherwise I’m gonna be too old—”

He cuts you off with an earth-shattering kiss as he pulls you flush against him. His fingers tangle in your hair, and you giggle into his mouth. The only thing that separates the two of you is the door opening.You gasp and climb off his lap, clearing your throat and fanning your cheeks from the embarrassment of getting caught. Your husband grips your hand and pulls you towards the house, and you can’t stop the profuse laughter escaping you as he apparently decides you’re walking too slowly and hoists you over his shoulder.

“Oh my God, Chenle, put me down.” You can barely speak through your laughs.

He only listens to you once the two of you are inside and he’s able to set you on the kitchen island.

“If you’re doubting it even a little bit, darling, you’d better tell me now.” He kisses down your neck. “Because I don’t care how fucking long it takes, we’re not stopping tonight until I get you pregnant.”

“You’re crazy.” You push his shoulder. “You have no way of knowing if you’ll—”

“Baby, don’t ruin my fun. Tell me if you really want this.”

“I do, Chenle.” You cup his cheeks, smiling at him. “I want it with you. They all need to look like you. I want at least one boy and one girl, and they’ll be best friends because—”

He kisses you again, groaning as he slides his hand beneath the skirt of your dress. “Keep talking.”

“Um, I just really think you’d be a good dad,” you say, lifting your hips so he can pull your panties down. “And, uh, you’ve proven how much family means to you, so it makes me feel safe. I—shit.”

He presses two fingers to your clit, and your body jolts. Chuckling, he traces along your pulse with his lips. “How are you so wet already?”

“Well.” You let out another breathless laugh as you grind your hips to match his pace. “It so helps that my husband is the hottest fucking man in this universe.”

“You think so highly of me,” he hums, teeth grazing your ear lobe.

“You’re cruel for this, you know.” You rock upward, and your head lolls forward. “Teasing after you clearly feel how badly I want you is just…so rude.”

“I’m sorry, baby. Please forgive me.” He moves down to your entrance and thrusts two of his fingers inside you.

You cry out, holding onto his shoulders. With a frustrated groan, you push his jacket off of him. He curls his fingers and pumps faster, thumb returning to your clit.

“Fuck, Chenle, wait.” You smack at his wrist. Even though you don’t want him to stop, you want more. He stops immediately, pulling back to look at you.

“What? Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay.” You kiss him hard. “I need you inside me right fucking now.”

“First of all, you just scared me.” He tsks as he unbuttons his pants. “You need my cock so bad you can’t fucking take what I give you?”

Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing. You shudder at his tone, shuffling closer to the edge of the counter. He pushes his pants and boxers down to the middle of his thighs, and your mouth waters at the sight of him. He’s hard, tip leaking precum as he spreads your legs further. The fabric of your skirt prevents him from having enough room, and the dark look in his eyes sends another burst of wetness to your core.

“Love how these skirts look on you but fucking hate how I can’t fuck you in it.” He taps your hip, and you lift yourself up so he can unzip it and tug it down quickly.

You barely even pay attention to what his doing when he pulls your ankles up to the edge of the counter and spreads your thighs apart until they begin to ache.

“Now, isn’t that a fucking view.” He wets his lips as he wraps his fingers around his cock. Thrusting into his fist a couple times, he uses his other hand to tease your clit.

“Chenle, please.” You gasp, tugging him closer.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby, I can see it.” He drags his tip along your entrance, pushing in just enough to watch the head of his cock stretch you open. He’s entranced by the way you take him so easily, his eyes focused on where the two of you connect.

Your pleasure intensifies simply by watching him so drunk on you, just appreciating the way you take him. You feel every vein in your body buzzing, and you can’t help it but to push your hand between your legs and rub your throbbing bud while he’s entranced.

“You have no fucking patience,” he hisses, grabbing your wrist and pushing it away. You whine at the loss, but his glare stops you. “I’m trying to enjoy my wife’s pussy, but she’s just so fucking needy, isn’t she?”

“Oh, God.” You grip onto the edge of the counter.

“Watch how easily you take me.” He flicks your clit. “Look.”

You let your gaze travel downward until you see his cock positioned outside your hole. Instantly, the room gets much hotter. You struggle to breathe, anticipating the stretch he gives you. His tip is covered in your arousal, but the rest of his cock has yet to feel you.

“Fuck me, Chenle,” you mutter almost incoherently. “I wanna watch.”

He finally obliges, nudging the tip between your folds again before sinking inside. He moves so slowly, you want to cry. You need more, and the stretch wreaks havoc on you when you’re watching. Every time he’d fill you up another inch, he’d pull out until his tip is barely caught inside you, and then sink in just one more inch. You’re losing your fucking mind, but you can’t take your eyes away from where he pleasures you. Finally, he bottoms out, the position of your thighs allowing him to press all the way against you, his pelvis hitting your overly sensitive clit.

“Are you ready?” he asks. “I need to fuck you.”

“You know I’m ready,” you reply, dazed from the pleasure of him seated so deeply in you.

He starts a steady pace, both of you still staring at the way you stretch to accommodate him.

“You feel so fucking good like this, darling.” He thrusts harder. “Nothing between us this time.”

You cry out when his tip hits your cervix. Your legs start to shake from how far they’re spread, but all you’re focusing on is the way your arousal shines on his cock when he’s pulling out of you. You feel every inch of him, and the way he rubs against your walls is so different without the condom. You’re fucking delirious, and every time he presses all the way inside you, the pressure on your clit has you getting closer and closer.

“You’re squeezing me so tight, baby,” he groans, moving his hand down between the two of you quickly. His thumb glides over your most sensitive area, and you can no longer hold back your sounds.

“Fuck,” you cry out, legs shaking as your orgasm lingers so, so close.

“Cum for me.” He slams into you. “Not gonna fill you up ‘til you cum, darling.”

You tip and tilt over the edge, convulsing as your high hits you hard. Chenle keeps rubbing you, thrusts picking up speed as he fucks you through your euphoria. He crashes his lips to yours as he spurts inside you, covering your inner walls with white as he pants. Your whole body shakes as you hold onto him tightly. Both of you are covered in sweat, but it does little to bother either of you.

“How does it keep getting better?” you ask. “You have that effect on me.” He shrugs, chuckling as he guides your legs around his waist. “And I wasn’t kidding. We’re not done yet.” “My insides are gonna be mush.” “What if I’m gentle next time?” He kisses along your neck. “If I fuck you with your legs up, apparently it’s more likely to happen that way.” “Insatiable.” You pull back to kiss his lips. “You’re lucky I am, too. Take me upstairs.”

You don’t make it all the way upstairs. Not at first. He decides he has to take you on the couch, up against the wall next to the staircase, the desk in his office, and then your bed. By the end of the night, you’re absolutely exhausted, but you’ve never felt so fucking good in your life. And for someone who thought you could never have it all, you realize just how damn close you are to having a perfect life when you have Chenle by your side.

700 notes · View notes

astonmartinii · 6 months

Text

a wonderful thing [mamma mia part five] | formula one social media au

drivers: sebastian vettel, fernando alonso & jenson button

in this house babies are delivered in the rb8 not by a stork

MASTERLIST | TIPS

yourusername

liked by jensonbutton, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,203,551

tagged: sebastianvettel, jensonbutton & fernandoalo_oficial

yourusername: welcome to the world florence mia alonso vettel button y/ln ✨ your name may be a mouthful but your our beautiful girl, i can’t wait to give you the world x

view all comments

user1: OH MY GOSH - wait so does she have all of their surnames as her last name?

mickschumacher: i’ve banned them from answering random questions so i will - the official last name is y/ln, with all the guys names as middle names! all three of them wanted flo to have y/n’s last name but a piece of them as well

user2: awww that’s so cute

user3: not her having a nickname already

kimiraikkonen: congratulations guys. i’m so happy for all of you, flo has the best parents she could ask for

yourusername: thank you kimi ☺️ xx

jensonbutton: thank you for everything kimi, mostly for being there to catch seb when he passed out 👍🏻

sebastianvettel: YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T TELL ANYONE YES I DID PASS OUT BUT IT MADE ME RESPECT WOMEN EVEN MORE I WAS NOT ASKING FOR MORE ATTENTION THAN Y/N WHO WAS LITERALLY GIVING BIRTH

jensonbutton: yeah i’m not reading all of that

yourusername: don’t worry seb i know you were just overwhelmed

sebastianvettel: NOT MORE THAN YOU I AM PROUD OF YOU

fernandoalo_oficial: when will you let this go… you’re just squeamish, it’s cute

user4: wait is she called mia after the mamma mia summer?

user5: that’s kind of hilarious

danielricciardo: ahhhhhhh she’s here !!!!! i can’t wait to meet flo and i hope everyone is recovering well xx p.s. max i shall swing round to your garage to pick up my £50 next race xoxo

yourusername: thank you danny x p.s. what did you bet on?

danielricciardo: NOTHING

maxverstappen1: he bet that seb would pass out during the birth 👍🏻

sebastianvettel: DANIEL?

yourusername: max?

maxverstappen1: i had faith seb

sebastianvettel: at least someone did

fernandoalo_oficial: she’s so beautiful she takes after her mama

yourusername: thank you nando ☺️ (it’s a good thing we did not do a paternity test, cause lord knows you’d all argue who gave what to flo)

sebastianvettel: well we ALL know she’ll have my impeccable manners

jensonbutton: and my unbelievable charm

fernandoalo_oficial: and lord knows she’ll never lose an argument on the playground, flo will have the alonso sass

yourusername: sounds like a winning combination if you throw in the patience of dealing with all three of you

sebastianvettel

liked by jensonbutton, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,348,445 others

sebastianvettel: beyond proud to be flo's dad and beyond grateful to y/n for letting me be a part of flo's and her life x

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user6: I AM SO SOFT

user7: holy moly look how small her hands are crying 😭 🥹

yourusername: i have no doubt you'll be just the dad flo needs

sebastianvettel: i'll try my best

yourusername: don't stress yourself out you're a natural so far

jensonbutton: he didn't even bat an eyelid when flo threw up all over him

fernandoalo_oficial: he only cried for about five minutes when flo first held his hand

user8: okay they're ganging up on seb @yourusername @mickschumacher @kimirakkonen spill the beans on the others please

yourusername: jenson was shaking so much that flo's name is barely legible on her birth certificate

yourusername: fernando was so excited about feeding flo for the first time on his own that he spilt half of the milk and then slipped in it (thankfully he'd already put flo down)

mickschumacher: fernando watched her sleep for so long that he physically got cramp and had to be carried to bed

kimiraikkonen: jenson had a 27 step plan to introduce flo and beckett and he was so nervous waiting for labour to start that he walked me through it THREE times

sebastianvettel: okay now i feel better

charles_leclerc: i am so so happy for you guys, i can't wait to meet her !!

yourusername: thank you charlie, turns out AUS23 is the perfect lullaby for flo, she falls asleep as soon as we turn it on

charles_leclerc: hopefully i can play the one i've written for her as soon as possible

sebastianvettel: charlie, i am so touched. i am glad to be called your grid dad

charles_leclerc: and now we're all crying

jensonbutton: i didn't know you could get any cuter, but you reading flo a book about flower classification melted my old man heart

fernandoalo_oficial: i caught him reading her your book and i won't lie i did cry a bit

yourusername: don't forget when he crawled around bumping into everything possible to check if it was "properly babyproofed"

sebastianvettel: when did we all become such saps?

jensonbutton

liked by sebastianvettel, estebanocon and 703,445 others

tagged: yourusername, charles_leclerc & maxverstappen1

jensonbutton: i didn't know that dad duties included comforting our crying 26 year olds as well as flo

view all comments

user11: someone sedate me i am so not normal about this

yourusername: i'd actually say that flo is better behaved than them

sebastianvettel: i agree

fernandoalo_oficial: i must say watching mad max cry his eyes out holding flo is one of my favourite things ever

jensonbutton: it pains me to say but they're so sweet

yourusername: fatherhood has softened you all

user12: they are never defeating the grid kid allegations i fear

user13: applying to be godfather when they're just the overgrown kids LMAO

charles_leclerc: acting like you guys didn't all bawl your eyes out when i played flo's lullaby :(

yourusername: you're right i did cry it was very beautiful charles, thank you

jensonbutton: it was very touching, you're a menace but a thoughtful menace

sebastianvettel: you make me proud to be called your grid dad :)

fernandoalo_oficial: it was a very kind gesture (you will need to pay me back somehow for now having to get a piano delivered? how does one get a piano through the door?)

charles_leclerc: NOW I'M CRYING AGAIN GOD I LOVE YOU GUYS

maxverstappen1: kids are my weakness !!! and mia is so so cute, thank you for having me :(

yourusername: you were great with her maxy, i know you doubted yourself but you're a natural !!

jensonbutton: you're always welcome at ours (though we don't have any more room for trophies, so take them home first)

fernandoalo_oficial: oh maxy, you're a big softy really. it's okay we can all cry on the flight to the next race

sebastianvettel: you're free to be as present as you wish with flo, and free to let us help heal your inner child :)

maxverstappen1: how are you guys all so good at being parents already?

user13: obsessed with max calling her mia when everyone else calls her flo

maxverstappen1: i love mia so much but i also love to remind her parents how they got into this situation

charles_leclerc: this is such a good point

jensonbutton: really? on a post about how much we love all three of you

user14: i'm crying over max being super nervous to hold flo and being assured by all of them (and maybe charles)

yourusername: oh they looked like an old married couple it was very cute

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by yourusername, lancestroll and 1,094,334 others

tagged: valterribottas, astonmartinf1

fernandoalo_oficial: my paternity leave came to an end wayyyy too fast, but thank you to y/n and seb and jenson for giving me the best present in the world. florence is the most precious girl in the world and there's nothing i won't do for her. for a long time i never thought i'd be a father or that i'd even find love, thank you for showing me that i can <3

view all comments

user15: user15 found dead, cause: fernando alonso being TOO FUCKING CUTE

valterribottas: fatherhood suits you

yourusername: did he show you all 200+ pics of flo

valterribottas: yes. multiple times

fernandoalo_oficial: I LOVE MY BABY OKAY

yourusername: we miss you already :( and we love you so much, you deserve this and more

fernandoalo_oficial: i'm so glad i went to greece this summer, i can't believe i nearly went to australia

aussiegrit: i'm so happy for you nando but you're literally bragging about ditching me :(

fernandoalo_oficial: sorry not sorry it was worth it

markwebber: you're such a mean girl . DON'T FORGET we ALL know i was your first love in f1

jensonbutton: you snooze you lose mark hold this L

aussiegrit: i'm literally married

sebastianvettel: tell that to all of your homoerotic tension with half of the grid

aussiegrit: the only thing i wanted to put near your ass is my FOOT

yourusername: okay clearly fatherhood has not completely softened all of you

user16: i see we took like a month to be responsible adults and now normal service is resumed

maxverstappen1: lestappen erasure once again and after you guys just proclaimed us as your children .... i see

charles_leclerc: youngest child being the favourite, some things never change

yourusername: yall finished projecting?

fernandoalo_oficial: you guys literally slept the entire flight? you would've bitten my head off if i had woken you up for anything other than getting off

charles_leclerc: nuh uh my instagram grind never stops

maxverstappen1: we want a feature on our only active grid dad's instagram SUE US

user17: fernando may be away from flo but he's never not on dad watch

sebastianvettel: don't miss us too much and bring home number 33

jensonbutton: i support you whole heartedly but we don't have the wall space for another trophy right now

fernandoalo_oficial: well get to chopping

yourusername: i have faith in you hence why i already got flo's baby hard hat out

user18: BABY HARD HAT???

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, mickschumacher and 1,415,099 others

tagged: sebastianvettel, jensonbutton & fernandoalo_oficial

yourusername: i felt really lost in my life this summer and decided to take a little trip to a greek island. there i met three great men, but knew it was likely that i'd never see them again. yet here we are, in love and with the biggest bundle of joy i could ever ask for. i love you all and can't wait for the rest of our lives.

view all comments

user23: bro why is MY ass crying i don't know these people but this is adorable and i'm so happy for you

alexalbon: this has been my favourite thing this year and i couldn't think of four better people to have this happiness

yourusername: thank you albono, we'll be visiting the zoo soon, flo is super attached to her horsey plush

fernandoalo_oficial: i'm so glad i met you and i'm so glad you let us in on this insane journey

yourusername: there's no one else i'd rather live through this chaos with

user24: i don't think there's anything like the mamma mia summer to bring the entire grid together

jensonbutton: being with you guys makes retirement the sweet life, i couldn't have asked for a better hand in life

yourusername: there's no other way i'd like to start my day than bagel runs with you

sebastianvettel: after i announced my retirement i thought i'd float around aimlessly trying to find another purpose in life. i don't know how we got to this but i wouldn't change it for the world, i love all three of you and florence so so so much

yourusername: i'm sure we can balance beekeeping with being a full-time dad

user25: flo having four parents who would do anything for her i'm so jealous

maxverstappen1: you guys are so precious, counting down the days until i see mia again

yourusername: respecting the commitment to using mia

maxverstappen1: you chose mia, right? you knew what you were doing

yourusername: sue me.

sebastianvettel: you knowingly named our daughter after mamma mia?

yourusername: how is it with the shoe on the other foot ??? at least mia isn't as obvious as BECKETT

jensonbutton: beckett is NOT OBVIOUS

fernandoalo_oficial: wait how did we not catch on???

yourusername: mia is a cute name !!!

sebastianvettel: maybe max and charles get their scheming from you

charles_leclerc: i do NOT SCHEME

yourusername: ummmmm sebastian your number one boy name was enzo... i may not know f1 but even i know that ENZO IS ENZO FERRARI YOU ARE NOT SLICK

sebastianvettel: damn tough crowd

user26: god i wish they publicised their arguments about naming like they did with the godfathers

user27: i just know those lists were heinous those men should not be allowed to name anything ever

fernandoalo_oficial: ummm actually i suggested florence

yourusername: we BOTH suggested florence

jensonbutton: i highlighted it first in the book

yourusername: NO YOU DIDN'T

sebastianvettel: i'm staying out of this one

user26: thanks for this little highlight reel 👍

note: AAHHHHHHHH PART FIVE i hope we are happy with the name choice, thank you for all of your amazing suggestions. i cannot remember who exactly suggested florence but i loved it so much esp cause flo is such a cute nickname !!! but also big shoutout to @evilsailorsenshi for the mia suggestion i had to make it a middle name to do the series justice x

do not fear this is not the end, i plan on following this lil family for a good while, so i hope this is a good fill of mamma mia content for now.

hopefully i got everyone on the taglist! - also, everyone who replied to my post about life, i am still getting back to people but thank you so much, i love this lil community so much !! please never be afraid to reach out to me if need be i'm always up for a chat!

taglist: taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora @faithm120601 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @luv4kani @eugene-emt-roe @magical-spit @ironmaiden1313 @jaydaaasworld @whoreks @rainerax @nonsensical-nonsence @laneyspaulding19 @chelseyyouraverageluigi @lxclerc @gemofthenight @woweewoowa @tagteamedbitch@imagandom@mypage-myfandoms@mehrmonga@asparklysoul @unstableplant @motorsp0rt@multilovebot@lili-flower03 @its-elias-world @jolixtreesunn@nothingfuninthislife@rileynicol3@kodzuvk@mochimommy2002@fluffyspaceprincess@roseseraj@black-swan-blog27@nyrasslut@justdreamersdream@asfaraslifegets@why4anne@ineffableperson@leilanixx@lunyyx @pupbistro @gaypoetsblog@rafaaoli@champomiel@sadsierra2 @rainerax @lokietro @thecubanator2 @nzygftoji @rockyhayzkid @nmw-am @slytherheign @erikasurfer @turn-around-look-at-what-you-see @greigreyhiyyih @duck-duck-goose-18 @dark-night-sky-99 @ironcowboycopnickel @sizzlingghostoperatorbagel @2bormaybenot @42ndbrokencompass @whotfisvale @lichterfee @sticksdoesart @glitterf1 @turn-around-look-at-what-you-see

2K notes · View notes

amentomensmut · 3 months

Text

first time for everything pt2

Drug Dealer! Mike Schmidt x fem!reader wc: 5k

this is part 2 to my fic first time for everything! read the first part here.

Summary: After an unforgettable hookup with your friend Sara’s drug dealer, Mike Schmidt, you go to a college party to try and put a stop to your constant stream of thoughts about it, and more specifically, him. However, when you wind up bumping into the man you had been thinking about non-stop at the party, you can’t help but give in to the one person who started it all.

Warnings: 18+ content, so much banter. Like, so much. Mike is a smug bastard, alcohol consumption, swearing, kissing, dirty talk, use of pet names, fingering, cunnilingus, finger sucking, unprotected sex

Note: we are so back. also i really hope you guys like this omg. (p.s. sorry that this part has no cannabis use in it. I know that’s like kinda the whole point, but with the story i wanted to tell i couldn’t find a place to put it and i didn’t just want to shove it in randomly so i sorta just left it out.)

Like smoke filling up your lungs, Mike Schmidt has infiltrated your mind in every way possible.

Thoughts of him invading every corner and crevice of your brain, making them impossible to shake. To say the least, ever since you had the pleasure of meeting him, your mind has been rather occupied.

His lips on yours, the smoke from his mouth permeating your own, his hands on your body, your skin on his skin—it's all too much, you think. In fact, if you could go back and erase the entire interaction, you would. It’s the only thing you’ve been able to think about, and it’s all Mike Schmidt’s fault.

You wonder if he thinks about you too. You know it’s probably unlikely, but you can’t help but feel like he might. Like he also dreams about it. Like he also yearns for you again. Maybe he gets off thinking about it, like you do. You shake those thoughts away, however, when you come to the conclusion that it probably wasn’t as special to him as it was to you.

"Okay, Y/n, what the fuck?” Sara's voice cuts through your thoughts, startling you.

You whip your head around to see Sara standing behind you. Her arms are crossed against her chest, and her face is painted with a worried expression.

“What?” you respond, confusion evident in your voice.

“You’ve been staring at that wall for 20 minutes.” Sara says it with an accusatory tone, like she caught you doing something you shouldn’t be.

“I’m just thinking.” You shrug, trying to play it cool. I mean, you’re not lying. You were trying to do your homework, and then you started…daydreaming. Thinking. Whatever you want to call it.

“Yeah, I know. Thinking is all you’ve been doing this week. What’s going on?” Sara sighs, and you can see the genuine concern in her face. She sits on your bed next to your desk, trying to meet your eyes. You have a hard time lying to her, and catching her gaze will only make you more vulnerable, so instead, you choose to stare down at your homework.

“This isn’t like you. You’re the most studious person I know, and you can’t even focus enough to finish a couple questions. Tell me what’s going on.” She continues. You weigh your options. You could tell her you fucked her drug dealer. She couldn’t be that mad, right? Or, you could keep it a secret, but continuing to lie to her is the last thing you want to do. You let out a deep breath and just decide to bite the bullet.

“Okay, um, remember when I went to your drug dealer's house last week?” You wearily start. Sara nods her head, signalling for you to continue.

“Well, one thing led to another, and we kinda, sorta had…sex?” The room is silent after your confession, the weight of your words hanging in the air. When you look over at Sara, you expect to see disappointment or anger on her face, but instead, she's looking at you with one of the biggest smiles you've ever seen.

“I knew it!” Sara exclaims, jumping up in a rush of excitement.

“I knew there was a reason that you were practically glowing when you got back from his house!” You groan at her loudness, putting your hands over your face to hide your embarrassment. You should’ve known she wouldn’t have been upset with you; she practically shoves you at any man who gives you some sort of attention in the hopes that you’ll break your introverted habits. “Wait,” she excitedly adds. “Does this mean you can get me a discount?”

“No, Sara, I can’t fucking get you a discount. I haven’t seen him since it happened.” You say, and you try your best to mask the disappointment in your tone. I mean, what did you expect? That he’d come running to you the next day, get down on one knee, and propose? You knew it would most likely be a one time thing, so why were you so upset about it?

“So that’s why you’ve been so out of it this week. Plagued by the thoughts of a good fuck. Trust me, I've been there. ” Sara sighs dramatically, shaking her head like she knows this feeling all too well.

“I don’t know... as cheesy as it sounds, I sort of can’t stop thinking about him? It was so good, and now it’s all I think about.” You admit, and Sara takes her place back on the end of your bed. She takes one of your hands in hers, and she nods her head in an understanding manner.

“You know what you need?” She says, and you shake your head, "No.".

“To get your head out of your chemistry books and go to a goddam party! No wonder you’ve been thinking about him; all you’ve been doing is thinking.” She says, motioning to the copious amounts of school-related papers on your desk.

“Trust me, Y/n. The best sort of remedy for this kind of thing is to just let loose and forget about all your shit for a little while, you know?” As much as you’ve tried to avoid parties and distractions during your college experience, you can’t imagine there’d be much harm in going to one party. Besides, if you can get your mind off of Mike for a few hours and just have some fun, it’ll be worth it.

“Alright. Yeah, I think you’re right.” You say, and Sara jumps up excitedly as she begins to talk about one of her good friends that is throwing a party that night, and that it’ll be the perfect excuse to get away from all stress of exams. You nod along, a smile plastered on your face as you try to match Saras excitement. You’re not quite sure if this “remedy” will work or not; however, you’d just about try anything at this point. And like Sara always says, you’re a hermit, so this will be a good way to break you out of your shell. I mean, the last time Sara told you to do something, it ended up going better than expected, so what’s the worst that could happen?

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

“Sara, I feel like I’m going to flash someone.” You say as you pull on the hem of your very mini skirt. The walk to the party wasn’t long, but your bare legs are cold and you’re itching to get warm. You’ve never really worn something as revealing as this, but Sara insisted you wear something from her wardrobe.

“Your skirt isn’t that short; don’t be dramatic.” Sara teases as she leads you towards a house that's booming with both music and people. You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous. You haven’t been to a party during your time at college, and to be honest, you weren’t ever planning to. Focusing on getting your degree without any distractions was always your goal. An unrealistic goal? Maybe, but it had been working well for you up until a week ago. However, things don’t always go as planned, and now you’re stepping into a house full of sweaty, inebriated bodies and music so loud it makes the entire house shake. The air is thick and humid, and you’d get lost in the house’s dim lighting if it weren’t for Sara’s hand in yours guiding you through the sea of bodies. Your shoes stick to the floor as you walk through the house, and you know alcohol drunkenly spilled from overflowing, cheap solo cups is the culprit. Sara drags you to the kitchen, where all the alcohol is stashed.

“We should do a shot! To commemorate the first party of your college career!” Sara yells over the music, already pouring each of you a shot of tequila. You give a little laugh at Sara’s enthusiasm, and you nod your head in agreement. As you wait for Sara to hand you your drink, you notice just how many people there are. You watch through the kitchen window as someone throws up on the lawn. You wince a little at the sight and at the thought of how much alcohol they probably drank. You briefly wonder if going to this party was even a good idea, but you try to shake away any negative thoughts.

“Babe, you’re thinking too much again.” Sara says, waving her hand in front of your face as she passes you the shot.

“Sorry!” You half-yell, but Sara dismisses your apology with a wave of her hand.

“Don’t be sorry, just have fun!” Sara replies as she effortlessly downs her shot. You also attempt down your tequila; however, it’s not as effortless, and you grimace at the sharp taste of the tequila on your tongue. It takes everything in you to swallow it without gagging, and you wish you had something to chase it with.

“Fuck, that’s awful.” You groan as you pull a face. You don’t typically drink alcohol, and when you do, tequila is certainly not your first choice. Sara laughs and places a hand on your shoulder.

“That’s what makes it good!”

The next hour or so goes by pretty smoothly. You’ve essentially been following Sara around like a lost puppy, accompanying her as she greets her friends, which feels like just about everyone at this party. You watch as Sara effortlessly navigates the room, her laughter ringing out above the chatter and deafening music. As you stand alongside Sara, watching as she converses with a group of people you recognise as being on the school's soccer team, you feel a wave of insecurity wash over you, like an invisible barrier separating you from everyone else. You feel out of place at this party, and in a way you are. You haven’t been to a party in your three years at school, and now you've realised that you barely know anyone around here. You haven’t seen one familiar face, other than Sara, in the past hour and a half since you arrived here. You begin to wonder how different your college experience would be if you just got over your fear of people and parties, and went out like Sara had. You try to dismiss your destructive thoughts, but it’s no use. You feel like somehow everyone knows that you’re not really supposed to be here, and it makes your throat feel dry with anxiety.

“Hey, Sara, I’m going to get something to drink. Do you want anything?” You loudly whisper in her ear, trying not to interrupt the conversation she was currently in. You’re anxiously wanting to get away from the crowd, and your body language shamelessly shows it as you bounce your leg and bite the skin off your lips.

“No, I’m okay,” Sara says, and you watch as her eyes survey your body, her eyebrows knitting together. “Do you need me to come with you?” She bends down to speak in your ear, although her words are slightly slurred, and you softly giggle at the way her alcohol intake has affected her speech.

“No, I’ll be okay.” You assure her as you walk away from the group, giving Sara a little wave as you make your way to the kitchen.

You had intended on getting a drink, but when you got to the kitchen and saw the door to the backyard, your desire to escape the muggy, stale air landed you on the back patio instead. Your lungs thank you for the fresh air as soon as you step outside, and the cool winter breeze feels refreshing on your sweaty skin. There’s still plenty of partygoers outside, but it’s certainly not as packed as it was inside. You watch as people play beer pong on a ping pong table on the lawn, and the sight only solidifies your fear of missing out. The sound of hearty laughter and the smell of weed only make you want to go home more, and you sigh as you push off the patio railing to leave. You turn around to make your way back inside when you see him.

At first, you thought it was your eyes playing tricks on you. Like you had been thinking about him so much that an apparition of him was here to taunt you. Like your thoughts of him for the past week had now turned you delusional. However, his eyes lock with yours, and now you so badly want it to be a hallucination, or your mind playing tricks on you. Dread washes over you and you wish you had never come to this party. You want the ground to swallow you whole when you see him beginning to walk towards you, and for a split second, you consider running away.

You mean for your words to come out nicely; you truly do. However, they don’t come out that way, and instead you say this:

“What the fuck are you doing here?” If your words shock or hurt Mike, he doesn’t show it as he now stands in front of you with that goddamn smirk on his face.

“I have a business to run, Y/n. But you’d know a thing or two about that, wouldn’t you?” You’re not sure if you want to kiss or slap him, but you roll your eyes anyway at his smug tone. He gives an unbothered laugh at your attitude and actually, you’d definitely rather slap him right now.

“Your business is selling weed to intoxicated college students?” You retort with a scoff, crossing your arms against your chest like it’s a defence mechanism. You hate that his presence is making you jittery, but you hold your ground, your eyes never veering away from his.

“Funnily enough, they’re my top customers.” Mike smugly says, and you don’t even try to hide the scowl on your face. You squint your eyes at him, trying to read his intentions. He smells like weed and spicy cologne, and it immediately brings you back to his house, and more specifically, his living room. There's a pregnant pause between the two of you, and before you can work up the courage to say something, he speaks again.

“Cute outfit, by the way. Have you dropped the innocent act yet?” He asks, obviously satisfied with his words. He's clearly trying to get under your skin, and you won't let him.

“I don't know what you’re talking about.” You fib, shrugging your shoulders like the question is irrelevant. If he's going to try to tease you about your hookup, you won't feed into it.

“You know, after that night, I don’t think you can really call yourself a good girl. You’d be lying to everyone. You're lying to me right now.”

“Fuck you, Mike.”

“You should come by my house tomorrow. You're probably all out of the weed I sold to you last time you were around, right?” He says nonchalantly, changing the subject. You furrow your eyebrows at the change of conversation, and your stubbornness to let Mike have any satisfaction during this conversation doesn’t falter.

“I don't smoke weed.” You quip.

“Lie all you’d like, Y/n. It doesn’t change the truth.” He says, brushing a stray hair out of your face before walking back into the house without giving you another look.

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

Usually people use the phrase “walk of shame” when you’re walking home from a hookup, however, that phrase pretty much sums up how you feel as you walk up Mike Schmidt's driveway.

You’re not sure how you’ve ended up back on Mike Schmidtd’s doorstep again. Maybe it was the satisfying sting of weed going down your throat and into your lungs, or the insatiable hunger for the man who supplied it to you. Either way, the front door is being opened and the man who you’ve been thinking about non stop for the past week is behind it.

“Had a feeling you’d be back.” He says with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and you’re high before any weed has even entered your system.

“Don’t cream your pants.” You mutter as you push past him and walk inside. You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t know why you were here, you both knew. After Mike left you at the party, you knew you were completely and utterly fucked. That any other attempts of trying to forget him would be worthless. That like a bee to a flower, you’d be back here, in Mike’s house, searching for the one thing you had been denying yourself for the past week.

“So I was right then, you’re all out of weed.” He says as he closes the front door. You take your jacket and scarf off, hanging them on the coat hanger at the door. You face Mike, who's currently leaning against the front door, watching you.

“Can I have a soda?” You ask, and Mike cracks a smile at the familiarity of the situation.

“I would’ve offered, but I wasn’t sure how long you’d be here.” He says, trying to bite back his smile. You follow him to the kitchen, watching as he grabs two cans of soda. Your fingers brush as he hands you the cold can, and you look up at him as he clears his throat.

“So…an eighth again?” He inquires, looking at you over his can of soda as he takes a sip.

“Mike, I’m not here for your goddamn weed.” You laugh. Mike laughs as well, and the exuberant sound is like music to your ears.

“So you came for my soda instead?” Mike teases, and you shake your head with a smile.

“I think you know why I’m here.” You say, and your cheeks heat up at the thought of what happened last time you were in his house. Your fingers tighten around the soda can at the thought of touching Mike again, and you so badly want to reach out for him.

“I’m not sure if you deserve it. You weren’t very nice to me last night at the party.” He smirks, crossing his arms against his chest and leaning against the kitchen counter. He places his soda can on the kitchen counter and tilts his head at you, waiting for your rebuttal.

“I was nice enough.” You simper, shrugging your shoulders. If he’s going to make you work for it, you’ll play along.

“Say please. I can’t believe I have to teach you how to use your manners.” He coos, and you huff when you realise you won’t get what you want right away.

“I'm very polite.” You stubbornly stand your ground, but you can feel your resolve weakening with every word that comes out of Mike's mouth.

“You might be polite, but apparently you forgot how to ask for things.”

“Please, Mike.”

His lips are on yours as soon as the words leave your mouth. All the build up from the past week, all the sexual tension between you and Mike is released into the kiss. The kiss is frantic and needy, like even being this close isn’t enough. His want for you shows in the way his rough hands grab any part of your body they can reach. You blindly slide your soda can on the kitchen counter before threading your fingers through his hair, softly pulling at the root making him moan into your mouth. He tastes like cream soda and weed and his hands caressing your body send a shiver up your spine, and you haven’t felt this way since the last time he touched you.

“You have no idea how much I've been thinking about you.” He says in a gruff voice as he walks you backwards and lifts you up onto the kitchen counter. You spread your legs so he can slot himself between them, and he presses soft kisses into your neck. His hands are on your waist, stabilising you as he kneads the soft skin there.

“I thought you might’ve forgotten about me.” You shyly admit, and he softly bites your neck, almost scolding you for your words.

“Are you serious?” He asks incredulously, removing his head from your neck to look at you. His heavy lidded gaze makes you feel nervous, and his reaction makes you feel like you said something you shouldn’t have. Your silence serves as an answer to his question and he shakes his head at you disapprovingly as he slowly gets on his knees in front of you, never breaking eye contact. You suck in a quick breath at the sight of Mike in between your legs, and an involuntary whine escapes from your lips when he begins to undo the button of your pants.

“Y/n, the only thing i’ve been able to think about is you.” He groans, and you lift your hips off the counter to help Mike as he pulls your pants down over your ass. Your pants hit the floor and Mike is pressing open mouthed kisses into the insides of your plush thighs. He takes his time, kissing and sucking on the expanse of your thighs, and you think you might go crazy if he continues to tease you. Your thighs slightly close around Mike’s head, looking for any friction you can get. Mike lets out a laugh and you throw your head back in frustration.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is there something you’d like?” Mike innocently asks, looking up at you as his mouth gets dangerously close to your pantie clad pussy. A sadistic smile paints his face and you put your hands in Mike's hair, trying to pull him closer to the place you need him the most.

“Mike, stop fucking teasing.” You pant, and a dissatisfied sigh leaves Mike's lips.

“I thought we talked about using your manners.” He mocks, and although he's the one on his knees in front of you, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s certainly still in control.

“Please, Mike. Please, I need you.” You beg, and not long after, Mike is licking a hot stripe up your covered cunt. You bite your bottom lip, your chest heaving as Mike continues to press messy, open mouthed kisses to the wet spot on your panties. His grip on your thighs is strong, and the feeling of his blunt nails digging into the soft skin makes your head spin. Soon enough, his thick fingers are hooking into your underwear and pulling it down your legs. He wastes no time, quickly latching his lips to your swollen clit and making out with your pussy like a man starved. Your jaw drops in pleasure, and your hand tugging at his hair makes him moan into you.

“Mike, h-holy shit.” You cry out, as he enters one of his long fingers into you. His tongue swirls around your clit as he pumps his finger in and out of you, and the sounds of him eating your pussy are absolutely sinful. Mike replaces his tongue with his thumb, rubbing your clit in slow circles as he slowly enters another finger into you.

“You’re so tight.” He mutters, and his eyes are glued on your soaked cunt and the way it sucks his fingers in. He begins pumping his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace, curling them upwards, hitting a spot that makes you jerk your hips upward.

“M-Mike, I’m gonna-” You start, but cut yourself off with a moan as Mike reattaches hip lips to your clit. With his fingers rapidly moving in and out of you, and his mouth doing god's work on your clit, you swear you’re starting to hear colours. Your thighs begin to shake as you start to grind yourself on Mike's face as you near your orgasm. You let out a loud moan as you finally release, the only thing you can feel is the pure pleasure surging through your body as you cum, and Mike coaxing you through it. Your breathing is heavy as you come down from your high. Mike removes his fingers and mouth from your pussy, pressing a final kiss to your clit before he stands back up in front of you.

“Open your mouth.” He softly demands, and you do, letting Mike shove his cum covered fingers into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the digits, humming as he lets his fingers travel to the back of your throat, making you gag. “That's it.” He praises, caressing your cheek as you suck his fingers. He removes his hand from your mouth and places them on your hips, helping you off the counter. He turns you around so you’re facing away from him, and he presses a hand to the centre of your back, bending you over the counter. He presses himself into you, and pushes your ass back against his covered erection. Mike leans over you, wrapping a hand around your throat to pull you up against his chest as he brings his lips to your ear.

“How could I forget about you when you look like a fucking angel when you cum.” He confesses in your ear, bucking his hips against you as he releases you, letting you fall back over the counter. The sound of him undoing his belt and pants makes you involuntarily clench your legs together, and you turn your head, watching as Mike spits in his hand and strokes himself a couple times before lining himself up with your pussy.

“Have you been thinking about this?” Mike taunts, teasing the head of his cock up and down your slit.

“You have no idea.” You whine, pushing your hips back in an attempt to just get Mike to fuck you. However, Mike holds your hips steady, restraining you from grinding back on him.

“Enlighten me, then.” Mike responds, like he has all the time in the world. But to you, it feels like the end of the world with the way your pussy is throbbing and in need of stimulation. A defeated sob leaves your lips at Mike’s teasing,

“All the fucking time, Mike. I felt like I was going crazy.” You babble, and your words seem to be good enough for Mike, because he’s filling you up with his thick cock. All your thoughts, any worries you’ve had over the past week are gone. The only thing you can focus on is the way he fits perfectly inside you, and the way the grunts and groans leaving his lips sound like perfect melodies to your ears. His hips snap into yours roughly, and you know you’ll be sore tomorrow.

“I couldn’t get high without thinking about you. You fucking ruined weed for me.” Mike admits with a laugh, like the whole thing is preposterous. His fingers work quick circles on your clit and you shiver as Mike places a hand under your jaw, lifting you so he can press kisses into your neck.

“Good. Maybe you’ll smoke it less. It’s bad for your lungs.” You breathily tease, and Mike sucks a particularly dark spot into your neck in response to your words. Mike continues his rough pace, and you clench hard around him.

“Gonna cum.” You whine and Mike only continues to fuck you, wanting to get you there. You cum for the second time, your body jerking as the overwhelming sensation hits you. Mike holds your shaky body up as he cums inside of you, letting out a strained “fuck” as his own orgasm washes over him. You both stand there afterwards, catching your breath as Mike release slowly begins to leak out of you and down your thighs.

“Did I seriously ruin weed for you?” You hoarsely ask in a disbelieving voice. You feel Mike’s chest rumble as he laughs, and actually, you think his laugh is the most perfect sounding melody.

“Trust me, It’s embarrassing to admit.” He says, and you let out a quick breath as he pulls out of you. He grabs a cloth out of a kitchen drawer and runs it under warm water in the sink before cleaning up the cum between your legs. He tucks himself back into his boxers before pulling his pants up, and you follow suit.

“Maybe I’m rubbing off on you.” You jest as you button your pants.

“Maybe.” Mike says with a smile, and when you look at him, you think you wouldn’t even need weed to get high. You’d just need this feeling.

taglist: @slutf0rmilfs, @angie-likes-to-art, @spenciesprincess, @janitorhutcherson, @leahdhopkins4321, @pickingchoosinglovinghope, @esebabe, @under-sedationnn, @celestbarnes, @brechdan-ham, @souldzaboj, @t0byisher3, @rottingpeache, @joshs-big-toe, @p3talll

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson smut #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader #smut #fnafmovie #fnaf

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chaoticbardlady99 · 3 months

Text

I Wondered If I Could Come Home (Astarion x F! pregnant reader) (Part 3)

Synopsis: A hag has set her eyes on you and Eowyn- Astarion is determined to kill the damn thing.

CW: Mentions of child loss

Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are much appreciated!!!!

Picture does not belong to me! Please reach out to me if it is yours!

P.s. lightly edited

Month 8 has been blissful and going into your last month- you actually feel stronger than you have the entire time.

You sit on a bench, reading another book about babies (you save the Dhampir books for locations with less eyes), as Astarion throws a ball with Scratch and Wide Eyes (Karlach thought her name for the Owlbear was clever) in the local park. Astarion had been fed up with their zoomie shenanigans since they began earlier this morning. You wanted to go outside anyway- so it was perfect!

Eowyn kicks every so often to let you know that she is still there and doesn’t intend on leaving anytime soon, but overall, it’s been a really easy day. It’s fun to be able to watch Astarion enjoy such mundane life activities and it makes you realize how many simple things in your life that you have taken for granted.

You smile to yourself as you continue to read your book and you finally feel hungry enough to begin munching on the pastry Astarion bought you.

It was an apple cupcake and it was surprisingly very very yummy.

“My, my,” a scratchy voice says, “aren’t you a pretty little bred thing.”

You feel the hairs on your neck stand up and you turn very slowly to look at the elderly woman who stares at you with a look of hunger in her eyes. Oh- it’s the woman Astarion bought the cupcake from. She looked… friendlier earlier?

You don’t know why you feel like you are in danger all of a sudden, but your arms go over your stomach protectively- one of them ready to fire a cantrip if needed. The energy around her feels familiar, but different- you’ve been in the presence of this type of magic before, but you can’t remember when.

“You are that pretty girl that lives in the house with the dark curtains,” she steps closer, “you come and buy those herbs with your little Cleric friend!”

Oh- maybe that’s why I recognize her more? I’ve seen her more than I’ve realized?

“You know, Droplet, I could take that little one off your hands.”

Your whole body freezes at the statement and her already wicked smile becomes even more menacing and even intimidating.

“You do look close to death as is- you don’t really want to birth a child you won’t survive having do you? Especially not a bloodthirsty Dhampir!”

You feel your heart racing, a deep sadness and fear is coursing through you.

Eowyn, my sweet girl, you are not going anywhere.

That relieves some of the uncomfortable emotions stirring within you, but this woman has you in a trance. You can’t look away from her and you don’t feel like you can move.

“I- I don’t know you,” you say shakily, “I- you need to walk away, please. I’m not interested and I don’t know what you are talking about.”

You don’t even sound convincing to yourself. You begin to feel really sleepy all of a sudden and your eyes are becoming harder to keep open. Something is wrong and as much as you want to call out to Astarion- your mouth feels heavy.

“Oh, Droplet,” the woman tuts, “it will be okay- you’ll wake up and it will all be bet-“

“What in the hells do you think you are doing?”

Whatever spell the woman had tried to put you under broke when she jumped at Astarion’s voice. You look over at the father of your child and you almost begin to sob. You have never been more grateful for how menacing Astarion can look when he wants to.

“Oh, hello!” she recovers her composure, “I know this young, adorably pregnant girl from the market. I was just offering to… adopt.”

“Oh yes,” Astarion snarls, “because Hags are known for their kind hearted souls and their selfless adoption of children.”

You feel sick to your stomach. Scratch is up on the bench and standing between you and the Hag- his hackles are raised and a long, low growl is released from his throat while Wide Eyes stands right next to you as close as he can get.

The Hag looks at you, then Astarion, then Scratch, and lastly, Wide Eyes before she returns her gaze back to yours. She gives you one last wide grin.

“I will see you later, Droplet. You should know that I always get what I want.”

You turn to Astarion who is pushing past the Owlbear- your face is in between his hands in an instant and he’s frantically searching over you- looking for signs of maltreatment..

Astarion pulls out an antidote from his pocket and makes you drink it- just in case the woman had intentionally poisoned the cupcake. It didn’t make the intense sleepiness you feel go away, but at least you know you aren’t dying.

It doesn’t matter to him though- Astarion is quick to pull you up and support you while you walk home. You can tell Astarion wants to just pick you up and run back home to Shadowheart, but you both know how crazy that might look considering normal men who have Astarion’s physique can’t carry pregnant women.

The park is only a block away, but it felt like it took hours. The world is hazy and you shift in and out of focus as Shadowheart begins to check on you.

“Wh-when did Shaodowww smart get here?”

“Will you please figure out what’s wrong already, CLERIC!?”

Astarion yells and your jumbled brain jumps- tears come falling out of your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” you sob, “I- I didn’t- I shouldn’t-“

“Shhhhhhhh, my Darling,” Astarion is sitting next to you in an instant as you begin to tilt over, “it’s okay- this is not your fault.”

“You….. sur…..”

Your question dies on your lips as you give into the exhaustion and fall asleep with your head on Astarion’s shoulder.

***********************

Astarion’s chest loosens when Jaheira, Minsc, Gale, and Halsin arrive. At least now he can go and kill the hag without worrying about dying in the process. He almost left after you had fallen asleep- the muffin he had bought you had in fact been laced with a sleeping potion. Astarion felt like a complete idiot, but Gale reassured him that he couldn’t have possibly known.

You are laying peacefully asleep in your bed and Astarion finds himself putting his hand against your belly to make sure Eowyn is okay- her kicks give him instant relief from the anxiety he is feeling.

He almost lost both of you and that thought is still enough to make Astarion homicidal. He will not let another evil individual take his life, his happiness- his home- ever again.

“S-star?”

Your eyes are staring at him lazily as you try to blink away the sleepiness. Astarion gently grasps your hand and brushes the stray hairs out of your face.

“I’m right here, my Love,” Astarion whispers, “I’m not going to let anything happen to either of you. I promise.”

You whimper and sniffle at Astarion’s words- your bottom lip trembling. Astarion climbs into the bed behind you and holds you to him- you burst into tears.

“I al-almost lost-“ you say through sobs, “Eow-“

“Shhhh Darling, it’s okay. She’s okay,” he soothes, “I’m going with the others to kill the Hag. Jaheira and Shadowheart are going to stay here with you- okay?”

“Don’t go,” you turn awkwardly to look at him, your face is grief stricken, “I don’t want to lose you- please don’t go.”

“Darling…”

“Please.”

Right as Astarion responds- Gale is knocking on the door.

“Would it be alright if I came in?”

“Yes,” you both say in unison.

Gale smiles at Astarion sadly after he looks at you. Astarion didn’t think about the fact that it was hard for your friends to see you in this emotional state until he moved in. Shadowheart cries after leaving the room when you’ve had a particularly scary vomiting episode or false contraction. She is terrified for you and it made him realize he had been wrong about her as well. Shadowheart is a selfless person for the right people.

“Minsc and Halsin are about ready to go, Astarion,” Gale looks between the two of you- noticing how the comment created some tension, “Tav- he will come back alive. We all will. We fought Auntie Ethel as a group of total strangers with no battle experience together and won. This will be a breeze, my Friend.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so.”

You take a deep, inhale in and with one last sniff you agree to not put up a fight about Astarion going. Astarion can’t believe that you would trust Gale’s opinion on the matter more, but he does understand the sentiment. It’s how he feels about Jaheira and Shadowheart staying behind.

He leaves a chaste kiss on your forehead and whispers promises of seeing you soon- promises he intends on keeping.

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 spoilers #astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion x you #bg3 #karlach #astarion x f!reader #astarion baldurs gate #astarion x f! reader #astarion ancunin

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aechii · 10 months

Text

₍⁠₍ OF LOVE AND FASHiON ₎⁠₎

A/N ?! last fic for the day booooo 😥 i dont know if i will be able to post any tmrrw, but i hope i can. anyways enjoy my lovelies

p.s. there's a little written part in this but it's abt 500-600 words

[y/n]'s heart's racing. every palpitation hammers against her chest with much force, so much so that her full-upon-entry water has decreased to less than half left in just 30 minutes. the heat still fused with the air, but as the sun begins to sleep, it loses its energy, leaving a cool undercurrent that presses into the skin of all the attendees. she's so glad about the cooler weather, finding it completely unfathomable how she would've coped if the heat joined tham at night as well.

but the man seated beside her crashes all of her composure, and her body begins to feel hot and strangled.

she hasn't seen such a visually blessed male specimen in all the years of her living, and the fact that his body was so close to hers because of the crammed seating made matters worse. she can't think, breathe or concentrate on the influx of dressed models that come and go non-stop.

"you look disgusted."

the voice comes from right beside her, and her head whips around, startled. the man that has enraptured her entire conscience smiles goofily at her, and her heart wavers.

"what? me?"

"yes," he chuckles softly, "you."

his eyes turn back to the show before them, yet he continues speaking before [y/n] can justify herself, "i don't blame you, though. some of the outfits are... questionable."

his facial expressions are priceless, and [y/n] falls into a bout of laughter, "you're sick!"

he looks on seriously, eyes flashing with extreme judgement, "i'm not lying! how does anyone find pairing a skirt and baggy trousers aesthetic?"

the combination, that [y/n] had, most likely, missed from being consumed by her thoughts, makes her grimace, "yeah, that wasn't a good look at all."

he turns back to face her and, god, he stares so intently that she has to look away.

"speaking of outfits, what brand you wearing? 'cause i know it's not lv for sure, i'm not seeing any," he thinks of the right words, "over exposure of the logo."

"that's one way to put it," [y/n] snickers, looking down at her outfit, "i made it all myself... apart from the shoes of course."

the boy is taken aback, mouth agape and eyes wide, "no way!"

she begins to feel flustered by his reaction and just smiles.

"that's so cool, honestly. i would take more pride in that than wearing a slutted out luxury brand."

"slutted out?" [y/n] can't believe her ears; he's going to kill her, she's sure.

"how the hell did you come up that?!"

the boy purses his lips, looking smug, "i'm just that amazing."

"you're delusional."

he pretends to think for a moment, "delusional enough to think i'd get your number?"

[y/n]'s eyebrows shot up, "you want... my number?"

he doesn't hesitate to nod, "i don't think i'll be leaving without it."

jobe, who had been painfully listening in on their conversation, decides to make himself apparent, "don't do it, you'll regret it."

she turns around, coming face to face with a younger boy who looks almost identical to the one she had been speaking with for the past 15 minutes.

"you two brothers?"

the older one responds, "yeah, he's a cockblock though, don't listen to him."

"cockblock? jude, i'm trying to save her life!"

ah, so that's his name.

"clear off, jobe," he rolls his eyes, turning back to the girl sitting beside him, "sorry about that- so, your number?"

"don't do it!"

and much to his dismay, she does.

y/n_l/n

liked by judebellingham and 23,899 others

y/n_l/n paris photo dump !! met some cool ass people there lowkey

view comments...

judebellingham was lovely meeting you, such a vibe 😆

y/n_l/n you too!! <3

yfn__ best time of my life honestly

y/n_l/n paris at night is a sight to see

user1 you look GORGEOUS

user2 i really missed pfw just a day after i left france </3

user3 JUDE????

user4 I'M ACTUALLY SO SHOCKED

user5 😮

user6 WE FOUND HERRRRR

user7 and jude beat me to it already 😐

judebellingham

liked by y/n_l/n and 899,231 others

judebellingham ❤🇫🇷

view comments...

y/n_l/n love the after party candid, send it to me plz xx + tell jobe i'm sorry but not sorry

judebellingham you look so pretty in it ofc + he'll see it anyways xx y/n_l/n @/judebellingham stop plz 😭🛑 jobebellingham @/y/n_l/n buy me croissaints and maybe i'll forgive you

jadonsancho freshh 🔥

user1 who's that girl in the last pic????

user2 someone who he met at the lv show, got her number and everthingggg 😭

user3 AND SHE KNOWS JOBE TOO? that's my chance stripped unrightfully away from me </3

user4 icel, she's gorgeous AAAAA

user5 this is my 13th reason

#work de aechii 🫧#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham romance #jude bellingham #jude bellingham headcanons #jude bellingham fanfic #borussia dortmund #football imagines #footballer x reader #footballer x you

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dominos-palast · 11 months

Text

Lessons on flirting

Fandom: XMen

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x fem!reader

Characters mentioned: Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Peter Maximoff

Used Pronouns: (she/her)

Warnings: none

Request: yes

Part: 1/3

A/N: I made an exception and did a fem!reader one since it was requested like that. I will eventually upload a gn!reader version

P.S.: I decided to split the request into 3 because I wanted to post something since it’s taking longer than promised :’)

Summary: Kurt has a crush on one of the best fighters in the institute, but doesn’t know how to approach the situation. Thank goodness that Peter and his friends are there to support him.

Word Count: 1k

“I did not get my ass whooped.” Scott walked between Jean and Kurt, trying to defend himself from Jean’s accusations.

“Of course not. How could you ever? We all know how strong the great Scott Summers is.” Scott would have felt flattered by such a response if it weren’t for the sarcasm behind her words.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep making fun of me. As if you had done it better,” he said eyeing the ice pack Jean pressed to her shoulder, only gaining a slight strong nudge on his bruised arm.

Kurt couldn’t help but snicker at their bickering. They had been on it since their last class. The topic had been self-defence. The catch: The use of powers was strictly prohibited. This type of class had become more frequent since the rumours of a new power suppressant circulating in the black market started. The professor wanted all students to be able to defend themselves, with and without powers.

“You sure can laugh,” Scott glanced at Kurt. “We aren’t allowed to use our powers, but you still can use your tail to fight.”

Kurt smiled proudly and swung his tail from side to side, mocking him even further.

“These classes are stupid. I have literal lasers for eyes. I can fry anyone even miles away from me. Why should I train in close combat if no one can get close to me anyway?” Scott let himself fall on the couch, resting his feet on the table in front of him. Jean already knew it was his frustration talking. They all had been lectured enough to understand why such classes were necessary.

Jean followed Scott’s lead and made herself comfortable beside him. Kurt leaned against the armrest of the couch.

“He indeed has an advantage, but I wasn’t expecting him to be that good.” She directed her eyes toward Kurt “You put up a pretty good fight against her, considering she is top of the class,” said Jean approvingly.

Kurt’s eyes suddenly lit up, and he turned toward them.

It was clear to him who she was talking about.

You hadn’t been in the institute for long but you managed to make a name for yourself right away. You hadn’t lost a spar in the self-defence class until now, making you one of the strongest fighters in the class.

“But how come she’s so strong? Does she have enhanced strength or something?” asked Scott raising an eyebrow.

“No. Her power is to transform drawings into solid objects,” Kurt responded.

Jean nodded and added, “I saw one of the spars she had with an older student. She pulled out a literal sword from the tattoo on her arm and beat his ass right in front of everyone. But do you know why she really is so strong?” Scott looked up at Jean’s questions with expectancy. “It’s because she is not a couch potato. Unlike you, Scott”

Scott threw a pillow at her, which she quickly stopped with her telekinetic powers.

The conversation went on with more complaints and remarks about the self-defence classes.

Kurt's mind drifted away, thinking of today’s class. More specifically the spar you had with him.

The first time he met you was in the self-defence class where he has been witness to your many wins. He has seen how graciously you can move and how powerful every single punch of yours is.

His admiration for you grew further and further from that day on. Not only because of your abilities but also because you remained humble and kind instead of letting your accomplishments get to your head. You were someone Kurt looked up to because you didn’t simply knock your opponent down. You gave hints and advice on what the correct stance is, how to throw a proper punch and so on. After every spar, you helped your opponent up and cheered them up like a football team’s coach would do. And you did exactly the same thing with Kurt after sparring with him.

He had lasted longer than the majority of the students you had gone against, but you still managed to make him eat dust. He lay on the ground as you approached to lend a hand. Kurt noticed your hand and was about to accept your help, but then hesitated. He was sure you would feel uncomfortable, considering Kurt’s unusual handshape. But to his surprise, you grabbed his hand and pulled him onto his feet. He felt his cheek burn when he noticed the short distance you had between each other, but you kept your grip on his hand. The words you said stuck to Kurt like glue: “That was amazing. Just as expected. We have to repeat this sometime soon”. That along with your beautiful, bright smile made his heart beat unusually fast.

“Earth to lover boy, are you listening?”

Kurt turned his head toward Scott and Jean. Both were staring at him with sneaky smiles on their faces.

“Entschuldigung?”, asked Kurt clearly confused.

Jean and Scott exchanged glances in amusement.

“You’ve been smiling like an idiot since we mentioned her”, Jean said raising her eyebrows.

Kurt felt his cheeks grow hotter. “Oh, I was thinking of- you know, class- I mean-”

“Dude, it’s so clear you have a crush on her. You drool every time she is near,” Scott said rolling his eyes.

“It’s not like-”

“You have a crush on her” Kurt yelped at the sudden presence behind him, teleporting onto the spot between Jean and Scott on the couch on reflex. “Like, totally obvious” Quicksilver took a long sip from his apple juice, only to look disgusted at it. “What’s the expiration date on this?”

“I didn’t- I didn’t realise.” Kurt looked worryingly at Peter. “Do you think she noticed? Oh no, what if I weirded her out?”

“Well, only one way to find out.”

Everyone stared at Peter expectantly as he sipped his juice with risen eyebrows.

------- Part 1/3 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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granolawriting · 7 months

Text

"Do you have a boyfriend?" •°. *࿐

pairing: no breakout! Cowboy costume!Joel x fem reader

Summary: Your best friend holds a halloween party at her house, where the often brooding Joel you often disregard adorns a new attire that sparks something in you. And he makes it clear he feels the same.

Content warning: 18+ NSFW, age gap (college senior and 50 year old), grey hairs so hes about that old, picture part 2 joel cause he’s the sexiest, porn with lots of plot, p in v, creampie, HEAVY praise, you guys are wearing matching costumes on accident, he fucks you IN costume if you're wondering, nice aftercare, pet names (darling, sweetheart, doll), southern hospitality misconstrued for shyness, sarah is your best friend

word count: 7.4k (holy shit)

masterlist

A/N: christ almighty. This took me all day. it has clouded my mind, overtaken my senses. finishing the final lines of this fic made me feel raw, completly finished. I have never written a fic this long in my entire life I'll be so honest. Anyways, I've been delving so deep into pedro stuff recently that reignighting the Joel adgenda made me quiver at night thinking about it. ANYWAYS. THANK YOU FOR 200 FOLLOWERS!!!! confetti thrown everywehere.

and in other news, I hope u enjoy the 4th installment of my kinktober list, I'll see you all again on the 20th with some bondage!Joel.... Make sure if you like my work to check out my requests/comissions or my ko-fi!!!

P.S. The title was made with scream in mind but since I changed up him from wearing a mask to a cowboy because christ how could I not I decided to just keep it as is.

Monotonous noise of worn out wheels against tired linoleum floors squeak softly at the turns of your cart against the rows of aisles that comprised the small store. Dimly lit bulbs illuminated the rows of supplies— plates upon masks upon streamers of different colors and themes overtake your senses as the whole display seems ostentatious and unflattering to you.

“How's this for a Halloween costume?”

A wolf mask hides the face of an otherwise non-furry Sarah Miller. Who seemed to not share the same sentiment as you regarding distaste for the design.

“I don't know, how are you going to drink if you have a mask on your face?”

“Straws exist.”

“I'm not convinced”

She takes it off with melodrama, sullen disdain for your lack of halloween spirit as you push the cart further down the aisle.

A soft squeak of tires indicates a stop in your steps as you stand before a wall of costumes— what you needed more than anything to hold an answer for you.

Eyes tracing up and down the rows floor to ceiling coated with cheaply made, scantily clad costumes makes your vision blur. Until it lands on a single item; one that stood out to you above all else.

“A cowgirl?”

Sarah sounds unimpressed. Eyeing the plastic wrapped costume labeled “ride my rodeo” with a model on the front wearing small red and white plaid tied to her front, small jean shorts cut at most with an inch’s inseam, and a cowboy hat— sold separately.

“It's the best I've got. It's either this, or I repeat last year’s costume.”

“You are not dressing up as Adam Sandler to my party.”

You put the bag in the cart.

Ever since moving to college, your career as a party-goer has been less than prolific, as a freshman assuming that time away from home was means to let yourself go, slowly turned into a reluctant senior year where parties were oftentimes the last thing you wanted to do on a given day. However, as Sarah lived in the area, she at the very least dragged you to her neighborhood functions. Which, was marginally better than what any Greek life could pull together. And as your car pulls into the empty spot within the miller’s lot, you become privy as to why; because you always had to help put it together.

As smooth concrete lays beneath your car while you park, the truck parked beside you was none other than Joel Millers— Sarah's bachelor dad.

Bachelor was an overstatement, a compliment that wasn't quite applicable to him. He wasn't looking for love, a bachelor without a cause, he was purposefully distant. A brood coated his face from eyes to lips that only ever contorted to something positive in the sight of his daughter. A contractor seemingly married to his work he had no means to find love. A part of you wonders when the last time he even had anyone was, romantically or sexually. Or even how he got ahold of one to make Sarah happen in the first place. You could never picture Joel as someone sexually active, if Sarah told you she was immaculately conceived you would have believed her.

The click of boots against concrete greets the Millers doorstep as your cowgirl boots are adorned, the rest of your uncomfortable costume shoved in a bag across your shoulder as means to at least dress the house in comfort before having to walk around in costume for hours on end.

Walking directly in you’re faced with a Mr. Miller, with a similar idea. He wore nothing at all, costume-wise. Something that you wish you could have done, as every year he seems to escape the wrath of Sarah’s demands regarding spirit, to be met with the regular weathered jeans and loose long sleeves. Standing tall upon a stepladder was he already being put to work however, thick fingers pushing small thumbtacks into the open space of his home, orange and black streamers littering the front room as he works.

His head turns to you at the sound of his door being opened and shut,

“Well, what’re you supposed ta’ be?”

His eyes size you up and down, southern drawl brings sound to the quiet of the room, only otherwise broken by soft halloween music traveling its way downstairs from Sarah’s bedroom. If there was one attractive thing about him, it was his accent. The way he would slur his words together, the charming yet teasing air to everything he says. Having moved to Austin 4 years ago you would’ve thought you’d have grown used to it by now, and you have, besides Joel. The age that honeyed his voice like old whisky was unprecedented, and never paralleled by any other man you’d yet to mean in your time there.

“Haven’t put it on yet Mr. Miller. But I can see that your costume is quite the classic.”

“Oh quit it. Now, Sarah asks that you go upstairs when ya’ came in. Bosses orders.”

You give a stern look to him and nod as though you were to be sent on the front lines, and he only gives a small chuckle before returning to his work.

“Oh my god you’re finally here. Look—”

She opens the door in hurried fashion, and quickly centers herself in the middle of the room to do a spin for you. A small gust of wind as she twirled letting her skirt float as she moved to reveal her outfit. Bells and jingles fill the room at the movement of her body.

“Does it look too corny? Can you tell who I am?”

Looking her up and down, large bundles of curly hair hiding a stuffed serpent around her neck as a green top wraps around the back of it, paired with loose bells and metal pieces adorning a small blue skirt with layers of tulle, it was quite obvious who she was meant to be if you were born prior to 2006.

“Britney spears. And you look perfect, but don't you think it’s a little early to try on your costume?”

Her eyes pierce you with only the gaze of a woman who thought you clearly misunderstood what was going on.

“The party is in 2 hours. I've yet to even do my makeup, or take photos before I get wasted. Time is of the essence. Here, put your costume on and help get ready with me.”

Sarah, despite being in the same grade as you, was marginally less mature. Mostly driven by her intelligence boosting her into higher grades when she was younger, she was around 2 years younger than you despite graduating the same year as you. And despite her efforts sometimes her stress levels were purely driven by the fact she was barely 21. Still obsessed and enamored with arguably, menial things. Though through her age, you always attempted to discern her fathers. With grey growing into the roots of his head, speckling his beard as it traced the lines of his jaw, you had ventured to guess he was around 50.

…

Ding Dong

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh—”

“It's okay Sarah, I'll get it.”

Feet scrambling up and out of her bedroom, you quickly find your way to the front door as the clock shone at 7:30, cursing the people who find joy in showing up so early to what is not a dinner party. Dressed in your cowgirl costume do you answer the door, expecting either trick or treaters or an older neighbor, does someone entirely different greet you as it opens.

Joel towers before you within the doorway. He no longer wore the loose fitting shirts and jeans omnipresent on his person, moreover it was swapped for a much more form fitting attire. A cowboy hat for starters, sat upon his head of hair, usually messy and combed back did it now fall in front of his face, sculpting his jaw as it fell to the sides of chocolate eyes. Strands peppered his face as you took him in, a worn cowboy hat that complimented the tan of his skin, equally as sun bleached did it seem almost natural for him to adorn it. Followed by a small toothpick sticking from his lips, did it draw focus to the pink of them, shaped and contrasted by the peppered beard freshly trimmed, longer pieces of hair falling over his top lip to establish a thicker mustache that became the centerpiece of his look. As your eyes trailed down the rest of his body, you’re met with a form fitting tan tuscan button up as his underlayer, slightly unbuttoned at the top to reveal his chest lines do you notice fabric rolled to his elbows to reveal thick hairy forearms that held muscle visible unflexed. Trailing up to see the definition of bicep within the confines of cotton fabric almost bursting at the muscle he carried, only to be met with an overlayer of a dark brown vest seemingly made of corduroy or something similar, tightly buttoned around his waist to accentuate it's contrast to the broadness of his shoulders. The pants worn in tandem with the outfit were a chocolate brown, thick leather-like material clung to his quads as they tapered at the ends of his calves, square toed cowboy boots finding home beneath the heavy fabric of his pants. Around his waist was there a detailed belt, a worn leather belt held up the tie of his pants, and to his hip was a holster, housing a small toy gun that fell to his side as his hip stayed slightly cocked at the entrance. His thumb looped in the side of his pocket as he stood waiting at the front door. The scent of cologne fills your senses as it breeds with his natural scent to produce what was to you somewhat of an aphrodisiac. This was no longer the grumpy old man that wore clothes a size too large because he was too lazy to check the charts, no longer the father of your best friend— in this moment he was nothing but insatiably attractive.

“Oh, Mr. Miller I— don't you have a key?”

Only now do you notice the look he gave you. The equal look of awe as his eyes unabashedly trailed your body and it's curved. Much more revealing than him though equally as hidden from what he wanted. You watched as lips became slightly pursed, taking in the fit of your jeans and the curve of your hips, eyes falling for far too long upon your top and how it complimented you.

He skips a beat.

“Oh— uh, sorry kid. Though Sarah’d be comin’ down. Wanted to show her my outfit. S’ the last halloween we’re gonna have fer a while.”

You feel yourself heat up, his eyes connecting with yours have a whole new meaning to it now. He seemed embarrassed, even, as his eyes darted from side to side, unable to connect with yours for more than a few seconds as he asked for his daughter.

“She's still upstairs getting ready. Do you, do you want me to call her down?”

“No, no that won’t be necessary. ‘Supose I’ll wait fer her inside.”

It takes you a moment to register that as means for entry into his own house as you stood there agape in the center of the doorframe. Though quickly do you move your body to make room for him, as he dips his head to you in thanks before heavy boots hit the wooden floors of the downstairs in his entry.

The tension that builds within the room is deafening as you both stand there in silence. Unable to remove yourself from his proximity does the air fill with feelings foreign and impure.

“That’s a um, nice costume ya’ got there.”

Joel breaks the silence with soft spoken words as he begins to pour a drink in the kitchen. Though not looking at you, the image of you within his mind pierced the darkest parts of his consciousness with glaring extremity as he felt himself grow hot in so many layers.

“This? Oh, Sarah, she made me do it. But uh, I really like yours as well. It, it suits you well. And we’re matching, that's funny.”

This was your poor attempt at flirting with a mind so foggy with memories completely turned on their head as your perception of Joel did that same.

“WHO IS ITTTT!!!!!!!!!”

Sarah screams from the closed door of her upstairs bedroom. Clearly your time downstairs was limited before she began even more antics from the confines of her unkempt bedroom.

He hands you a glass, amber liquid sloshes upon crackling ice fills up a quarter of the cylindrical glass.

“Hope ya’ have fun t’night sweetheart. Make sure Sarah’s doin’ alright.”

You flash him a shy smile as you take your drink to go, climbing the hardwood stairs leading to her bedroom as quickly as you can without spilling it.

“Who was it? What took you so long! Is that whisky?”

“Can you ask one question at a time?”

“Well I already asked all of em so what's the point?”

“Just for future reference.”

“Maybe. Well?”

“your dad forgot his key, I helped him inside, he gave me a drink. Tis the story.”

She looks you up and down as the recollection of her father instills newfound meekness at the mention of him.

“Ok weirdo. Here, take candids.”

…

Halloween music blares from speakers as the party comes to a head, the myriad of costumes all still holding creases from the cheap packaging they were purchased in become clustered together as the drinks you have begin to get to you. The smell of alcohol and pumpkin fill the room as a cacophony of laughter takes you out of a spell of staring thankfully focused on the floor and not upon unsuspecting persons.

The only person who seemed to stand out amongst the crowds of duplicate costume and cheesy innuendos was a certain Mr. Miller— a prolific wallflower that only hosted these things as a means to keep Sarah close in situations like this. For if not here, she’d be somewhere else doing the same thing.

Eyes scoured the home every few minutes, looking to catch a glimpse of Joel within his costume, politely smiling at guests through small talk or taking slow drinks of his flask.

“Hey you!!!”

You’re startled by the sound of Sarah's boom from across the room as she calls for you, a caramel hand stuck high in the air to signal you to her, drawing you out of the trance of Joel’s small movements.

You walk to her with careful steps, trying not to step on capes or trailing costumes in the process.

“What’s up with you! I’ve barely seen you at all tonight! I know you’re not a party girl anymore but please, try and live it up for me!”

Something catches her eye as she speaks to you, her smiling face turning into an O with excitement;

“And—”

She points behind you.

“I think that guy over there is checking you out. Go have fun! Let me hear all about it later!”

Later. You forgot you’d promised to sleep over at her place too, rehashing the night's events as soon as they came to a close as you always did over the years. Though the first thing that comes to your mind is not the man behind you eyeing you, tacky tie-dye making up for a lackluster hippie costume, but Joel. the man who in fact owned the home you would be sleeping in, the man who kept eyeing you from the side of the room with a gaze you accepted much greater than the mans behind you, and above all, the man that had caught your heart in a way that led to it's seeping out between your thighs.

God, what the fuck is wrong with me? This isn't right it's, it’s Sarah's dad. She’d be heartbroken to even know I think like this.

You decide to throw away all the Clint Eastwood movies you stole from your dad and uninstall red dead redemption 2 when you got home, and blame your attraction solely on your overconsumption of cowboy media. You need a breather.

There's a balcony, facing the back of the property that was off limits to the party guests. Entered only through Joel’s bedroom, anyone would be stupid to test their luck if getting caught within his personal dwellings. However, you were Sarah’s best friend. And was even shown this entryway by Sarah herself— of course when her father was not home. And so you decide with cautious steps to ascend the stairs of his home, the liquor giving way to uncertainty in every step as your eyes are glued to the placement of each foot upon the step one by one. Though as you reach the top with great pride, you venture into Joel’s room, to the left of the stairs as Sarah’s is farther to the right.

You had never been in his room by yourself before, only for a brief moment with Sarah as she showed you one of her favorite spots in the house. It was secluded, of course looking over the backyard she lamented years past as a girl playing within the pool below. She was at the age where she wanted to be independent, but in no way could be yet; and for her that was about 10. And as means to give her her freedom but keep her close, he would watch from the confines of a balcony she paid no note to as the splashing of waves kept her occupied. And he doted on her from a distance.

As you walk through his bedroom, walls covered in guitars and desk littered with wooden sculptures while a record shows to be finished upon his player. Sheets properly made upon his bed, and a sense of intimacy looking around at the things littered upon his shelves and tables. The framed photo of him and his daughter, his old watch he took off specifically for the occasion of dress. The distinct smell of him that enveloped your senses.

Opening the door to the balcony does the feeling of cool air hitting a flustered face sober you everso slightly. Bracing yourself on the edges of the platform, you drift into a calm. The first time you’d felt that since the moment you opened the door for a cowboy Mr. Miller— as you force yourself to call him in your mind.

“Now what do you suppose yer doin’ in my room?”

Your heart sinks. You knew you’d be fine, if caught, but the thing that sinks your heart is the uptick of your heartbeat and the twist in your stomach at the sight of familiar drawl sounding behind you.

You hear heavy boots break the threshold of the doorway into where you stood as the sound of wood upon his feet changed to a scratch of concrete.

He stands next to you, forearms pressed against the railing as his back curves along casual footing aside of you. The moonlight illuminates his face, the curve of his nose complimenting the side profile that gifted you sight at the tufts of hair poking out from the ends of his hat, and the proximity to him gave you the insight to the smell of whisky on his breath as he spoke.

“Needed ta’ take a breather' myself. ‘Spose we had the same idea.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Ya’ having a good time t’night kid?”

“Oh yeah, I haven't seen all that much of Sarah though did you—”

You stop as he shifts his body to turn to you.

“Now, can I be honest with ya’?”

As you turn to look at him, mirroring his stance he dwarfs you in the process, standing at around 6ft the broad of his shoulders shadowing your whole figure.

You nod your head meekly.

“I just— now, I don't know how ta’ say all this quite right. But, don't get me wrong darlin’, I’ve seen the way you’ve been lookin’ fer me all night. I don't know if ya’ think i'm blind or somethin, but i’ve seen ya’ all night, watchin me.”

He pauses for a moment and within that silence does your heart shatter. The whole time you thought that he was eyeing you, looking you up and down, it was just a one sided coincidence that led you to this awkward conversation with a man twice your age. You start;

“Oh listen I'm, I'm so sorry Mr. Miller I must have given the wrong impression or something I don't know i'm just so—”

“Please, call me Joel. And don't hafta’ be so sorry sweetheart. Just callin’ it how I see it.”

He pauses once more as he considers what he’s going to say next, a tinge of uncertainty covering his face as he decides how to follow up.

“And I don't quite mind it, if that's what you’re worried ‘bout.”

The tense of your muscles releases as he continues.

“Just, wanted ta’ tell you you looked quite well yourself that’s all.”

He’s holding back, you can tell by the sway of his legs as he goes on and the grip of his fingers upon the pocket of his pants. The way his gaze averted yours and his glancing upon the floor; for any look at you from your eyes to your body seemed to be hard for him to swallow with proper manners.

Your eyes lock in silence, the pale moonlight illuminating you two as the distance from Joel grows unconsciously closer as you take in his face, his body looming over yours and the prospect of their being more within his mind that he’s willing to give you. The southern hospitality still overshadows his true means.

Rough fingers graze your face, tucking hair behind your ear as it falls in front of your face. And as he leans forward to do so, you lean in as well. Blinded by desire and complicated by liquor and closing the gap between the two of you. Tasting his lips reminiscent of whisky and the frosting of halloween cupcakes you feel him kiss you back for only a moment before shooting himself backwards.

He almost trips over his own feet in adverse reaction, stumbling to the other side of the balcony as you watch him.

“I'm—”

“No darlin’ ya’ don't have to say anything. But I've probably got to get back down to company. Feel free to stay up here ‘s long as you want.”

You watch as he rushes out of the room and the urge to chase after him grows weak as the taste lingers on your lips. The sense of defeat wells in your chest but not entirely, because for a moment he kissed back. A moment you felt him push forward on your lips and savor the flavor of them as you did for him.

Later.

Now, a sleepover with Sarah is what you needed most. A sleepover with her, is a sleepover with Joel right across the way. And the mere feeling of that made your knees weaken with rushing dreams of him.

The party seemed to drag on after that, only satiated by more drinks were you able to bear a night where you could feel him from across the room, sense his body and the heat that came with it. You felt naked for him, utterly exposed at the sight of his eyes trailing you— ones you could only hope followed you the way yours did for him whenever you noticed him with back turned. Drinking in every part of his body as he was none the wiser, finding joy and security within the turn from you as means to make him in for as long as you pleased.

…

“Alright ma’am, seems ya’ need to be goin’ home, me ‘n Sarah got a lot of cleanin to do in the morning.”

An outstretched arm grabs the bicep of a polite Joel, ushering out the final guest that had an affinity for his touch so it seemed.

“Ohhh but darlin when will I see you in such a getup again? Oh i'd never want to leave.”

“‘S a shame I’m about to take it off though ma’am. Now go walk home alright?”

Her eyes hooded everstill she demands even more of him;

“Oh but will you take me? Don't think I trust myself in these conditions.”

He closes his eyes and a heavy sigh leaves his nose.

“‘Spose so ma’am— Sarah, I’ll be right back.”

Her arm loops around his bicep as he leads her out of the house, jealousy overtaking you purely at the close proximity she had to him, for much longer than he ever had with you.

Sarah turns to look at you as you stand a few feet back from the scene, a bemused look painted on your face unconsciously demanding explanation.

“Oh- that was miss carey she uh, she’s had a thing for my dad for years now. It’s kind of funny if I'm being honest, given I didn't see her drink all night.”

You let out a halfhearted laugh for a response, trying to deny the yearning within your stomach to feel Joel’s arm as she did, to touch him, fall over him. Just be close enough to smell him again, feel his warmth. It had felt like decades since the last feeling of him close to you. your body remembering calloused fingers grazing your heated cheek; contrasting with the cold tips that crept upon his hands as the air finally showed hints of the coming winter season.

“Sorry to be a bother, but doya think you could start cleaning up? I’ve gotta get this costume off and shower before I vomit. Thanks!”

As Sarah zips up the stairs all that’s left is you alone, standing within the living room of Joel Miller’s home. One where he could return any second.

You decide to busy yourself with chores, cleaning up stray glasses and bottles littered across the house, fallen decorations and dessert trays now only holding wrappers and trash. It’s a hefty job, one that helps for a short while as the weight of hours prior looms over you with darring intent to seep deep within your mind, allowing visions of the taste of his tongue, the feel of his body pressed against you to consume you. What you would give to feel his nose clash against yours through sloppy kisses, lips puffy with desire as small nips and clashing of teeth is all that can fester in your mind as candy wrappers stuck to the floor fail to give enough distraction anymore to keep Joel off your mind.

“Fuckin’ christ man I— oh.”

You didn't even hear the door open, or the creak of boots as they settled into their first steps within the home. Only the sound of his voice did you perk up with your mind unable to shake your thoughts as you stand before him. Feet away with a small trash bag in your hand.

He continues.

“Didn't know you’d still be here, my apologies.”

“Oh yeah uh, Sarah didn't tell you I was spending the night?”

“Spendin’ the night?”

He repeats you, barely able to hide his shock. Clearly, she hadn't. And as you stand there, beginning to hear the water running for a shower she’s yet to even get into, the tension of the two of you grows immanent as he realizes just how alone he currently is with you.

He didn't know what to do, feeling palms grow sweaty as his desire clashed with his sense of respect and responsibility as a father and his yearning grew too prominent to hide behind the unforgiving stretch of tightly fitted pants he busied himself once more.

“Oh, right then. Well I ‘spose i’ll be in the kitchen if ya’ need me.”

Walking past you with a heavy stride does the scent of him once more draw you to him— something primal, wanton is elicited from him when in close proximity. One that with a room now void of people to maneuver through, you refused to ignore any longer. You followed his quick steps into the kitchen, separating yourself even further from Sarah as the stairs fell into your purview as you ventured deeper into the home.

You greet Joel at the counter of the kitchen where he stood, pouring another drink for himself does the hand gripping his drink suspend mid air at the sight of your trail behind him.

“Ya’ need somethin’?”

You don't know if it’s the liquor talking, or the suspense and tease of a night full of dreaming for a moment like this to arise but you don't allow yourself to beat around the bush anymore. If this old man failed to make a move, you would.

“I do Joel, really— I think we both do.”

He sets the glass down on the counter with a light chink filling the air. His demeanor changes; you watch as both hands lean forward on the counter to inch closer to you, arms outstretched flex his forearms to reveal muscles only garnered by heavy and hard working. His hip cocked to his left as he made unwavering eye contact with you, a smile forming slightly upon his face.

“And what would that be darlin’?”

He made you nervous. This was a first. The mild mannered gentleman that often stood before you, speaking only when necessary and smiling only when compelled to. You always shook him off, an old man not worth anything but a gracious thank you as he catered to you and his daughter when times came. But as you looked upon that man now, face shadowed by a cowboy hat perfectly curved at its edges lining his head, hairs falling in just the right places over the sides of his face, and the hooded eyes coated with lust you found yourself hard to speak. Hard to even think.

“Well? Cmon’ now I ain't got all day.”

He's taunting you. Watching you grow nervous under his gaze as you become the one that can't hold it anymore.

“You, and me I mean. The way you look at me— I want you Joel. And so do you, right?”

Without skipping a beat, Joel retorts

“So come closer then sweetheart. Can't do anything with ya’ so far away.”

your heartbeat picks up again. Shaking steps inch around the bend of the countertop, until you’re no more than an inch away from him. Watching, as he looks down upon you.

“Good girl— now, what’s this about wanting me hm?”

“What?”

“Oh don't play coy darlin’, I love hearin’ you tell me all about how much you need me. The look in those pretty little eyes.”

A coarse finger falls upon your cheek once more, this time lingering there before toying with stray hairs. His fingers trail to your chin and jaw, gripping onto your face to lift it higher to lock dark eyes with his.

“Such a doll. I wanna hear ya’ beg for it.”

You feel a pool of slick well between your thighs, heating and dampening already ruined underwear at the sight of him as the night went on. Though as you listened to the sink in his voice, demanding you to beg for him. You don't even know what you were so needy for, his kiss? That was too little. You wanted all of him, and as knees felt weak at the thought of it— him, and you completely at his disposal. He dwarfed you from this closeness, you realized this as you approached him. He overpowered you in every way, and that made it even harder to say what you wanted. Every semblance of confidence leaves your body as all you want to do now is whatever he demands, whatever he says.

“Please Joel I— I need you. Every part of you. I can't take my eyes off of you. Every part of you looks so perfect no matter the angle or the lighting. Id, i’d never noticed it before but now I…”

The gust of articulation you had quickly dwindled as his face lit up from such compliment, such desperation. You were desperate, needy for him. That much was true. And he knew that.

“Mmm that's all ya’ had to say sweetheart.”

Now he is the one that closes the gap between you, the yearning for his taste finally satiated as your lips collided once more, the fantasies of clashing of teeth against one another with impassioned touch as his hand falls from your face to trail bare stomach. Feeling the large of his hands take in every inch of you with precision, like he had memorized exactly where he wished to be. Feeling as his hands trace down to your hips, and slowly maneuvering up to the wire of your bra.

“Take it off. Please.”

You beg through breathy moans as you stay inside his mouth, taking into him as you refuse to open any gap of distance between the two of you.

“Since ya’ asked so nicely.”

His fingers trace the center of your chest where a simple tie kept together thin fabric that complimented your chest. Unraveling it's knot does he guide it off your arms and onto the floor, a free hand snaking to your back to unhook your bra, leaving you with nothing but the shorts you wore and the hat upon your head to constitute a costume.

His mouth lets up from you to look down on your chest, his palms engulfing them as he kneeds them within his hands, letting the weight of them move with his fingers as he massages them. Fingers slowly trailed down to the mountain of your nipple, toying with them with two fingers as his eye flitted back up to you to watch your reaction. Sighing in relief, your eyes fluttering at the feeling of his cool touch against a body so overwhelmed with heat for him.

He leans in to you, his lips pressing softly against your ear his voice no matter a whisper is still laced with lust creating deep tones otherwise foreign to you to emit from him as he speaks to you;

“God you don't know what you do to me darlin’.”

“Then show me.”

His hands make quick way to the back of your thighs, lifting you up to his hips where you can feel his bulge pressing into you, the thin material of your shorts leaving little room for imagination.

Walking to the dining room adjacent to the kitchen, he sets you on a table that meets him at about hip level, lowering your back onto the wooden finish that often held dinners with the three of you now making way for just the two of you as you watch the buckle of his pants become the main spot of his attention.

“Bet ya’ could feel what you’re doin’ to me sweetheart, you like that hm? Feelin’ my cock against you even for a fuckin second?”

He talks down to you as he undresses his lower half, relieving himself to only his boxers as he now knelt down to face your heat, legs dangling off the edge of the table to uses that as means to slide your shorts off with ease, revealing the soaked underwear that gave you constant reminder of the eyes you held the whole night.

“All this for me hm? Ain’t I lucky.”

He lifts a finger to massage the outside of your heat, slowly pressing on the wet spots as he toys with you, making your breath hitch at the feeling of his touch, the sensitivity only growing overtime as you were denied for so long.

Slowly he peels off your underwear, allowing your slick to trail down the side of your thigh as it leaves a trace when it hits the floor. The cool air hitting your clit makes you jolt, but Joel wasting no time allows himself to dig straight into you. Feeling his tongue explore every crevice of you, every place where you have leaked for him he wants to take in every drop of it. Tasting you was like heaven to him. As his lips were pressed against your heat as his tongue began to make a repeated circular motion along your clit.

your fingers beg for his hair, grasping it in desperate fingers do you confine him within the bars of your thighs as they squeeze against his head.

“Mmng— god Joel it feels so nice please I-”

He waited for you to speak before sticking a finger inside of you. Thick callused fingers grabbed at your core and pushed its way into your center, hooking at sponge from inside you right at the spot that felt best. No longer could you ever think he didn't know what he was doing, it’s as if he knew your own body in and out, and with the whines you have to bite back out of fear of it drowning out the shower's thud of water upon a clueless Sarah.

“You like that sweetheart?”

Joel groans into your pussy, he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. Hearing your stifled yelps and desperate moans over his tongue, his finger inside of you.

“Y..yes please Joel I need more.”

He slides in with a second finger, though lets up from your clit. Slick drips to his chin as he rises to face you, leaning over you as fingers still pump inside of you.

“Never fuckin’ satisfied, is that it? Whaddya need darlin’ hm? How about ya’ use those words for me.”

He made it hard for you to speak or even think as the steady grind of his fingers inside of you overtook your senses. But you obliged, trying through breathed heaves to try and relay what you desperately needed from him.

“Fuck me. Please fuckme Joel I cant— ngh I cant fucking take it anymore.”

“Good girl. Guess you’re in luck ‘cause I aint ever wanted to fuck someone this bad in my entire life. And I’m not gonna be gentle on ya’ alright? I know you can take it.”

Slowly removing his fingers from you, he lifts them up to his own mouth to let him taste you one last time, slowly licking clean what was just knuckle deep within you. You watch as he slithers his boxers off, revealing what seemed to be impossible to fit inside of you. His cock was pulsating, almost red as it yearned to be touched, it yearned to be inside of you. You watch as beads of precum already coat its tip, and veins throb against the slight curve of him that twitches at the feeling of release.

Inching towards you you feel his tip graze your core before pushing into your folds, covering himself with your slick does he push himself flush against you as you see how far his cock rides up onto your body. You see him smile at the sight of it lying on your stomach, predicting how deep it’ll push inside of you before he centers it once more at your entrance, slowly spreading you open as you feel a fire burn within your stomach at the initial pain of it. It felt as though he was ripping you apart slowly, legs instinctively closing did his hand grab onto your thighs to push them open.

His body flushes against yours with a deep groan, letting your walls warm his cock for a moment as he looks down on you.

“You’ve got a pretty fuckin’ body ya’ know that? All done up fer me, feel so lucky finally gettin’ to do this.”

He begins inching in and out of you with slow pace, your body moving with every stroke of his cock around you as you fell hopelessly obsessed with the feeling of him inside of you.

“Been wantin’ to do this all night— imagining what ya’ looked like under that pretty little costume of yours. Fuck, woulda fucked you right on that balcony if I could’ve. Nngh—”

His thrusts in you grow faster as he speaks to you, talking you through the whole thing makes you only look at him with wide eyes, desperately needing his cock and drinking in the southern drawl that detailed how he felt the exact same.

“Body’s fuckin’ perfect. Pretty little pussy all fer me, yaknow that? Right now you’re all fuckin’ mine hm? Ain't that right doll?”

“Yes, yes Joel— all for you nngh. My body is all yours please, please don't stop.”

His finger trails down from your thigh to your clit, throbbing with pain at the need to be touched does he satiate it with a thumb beginning to circle where his tongue did moments prior.

“Fuckkk please oh my god”

your breath grows irregular as the fire burning in your stomach grows white hot, unable to utter anything coherent as babbling of desperate please escape your mouth as your body becomes addicted to his every touch. The push of his cock directly against your cervix, the circle of his thumb perfectly against your heat, you felt it bubble inside you. Nearing on toppling over all you can think of, unconsciously chanting as he fucks into you Joel Joel Joel Joel

“Ya’ gonna fuckin’ come for me? Cmon, I wanna feel it darlin’ I want it to swallow me I want you to cum on my fuckin’ cock hm? Can ya’ do that for me?”

He groans over you, thrusts growing irregular at the desperation of his own climax reaching a head at the same time yours does. Only letting a few more thrusts greet you before you feel it toppling over, every inch of your body becoming utterly ruined below him. Feeling his cock inside of you pistoning into you through your orgasm, legs lock around his clothed waist as your hips buck up, shaking as your back arches against the table with legs raised, most of your body not even on the table anymore as he holds your legs stable to fuck through his own orgasm.

“Fuck fuck darlin’ you’re so fuckin’ tight— shit you feel so good.”

“Inside of me”

You manage to breathe through a fogged mind and blurry vision as the sensitivity of your body makes his use of you mind numbing.

“Please. Please Joel please cum inside of me please—”

You feel heavy liquid fill you as he slows his pace, heavy groan being the only thing that fills the room now as he pumps in and out of you, softening inside of you as his seed leaks from you. He slowly removes himself from you, a collection of your own fluid and his trails down the side of your thigh as you both stay there breathless. Watching as he slowly shifts on his boxers, and loosely does pants that are soon to come off later.

Before you’re able to right yourself or even get up, you watch as Joel slides your clothes back on you, latching your bra softly as he raises your back up to do so. Slipping your top on and tying a proper knot is the only thing missing from your wardrobe, the underwear he took off of you, that of which becomes missing as he slips your shorts onto you.

“I think you forgot something.”

“Think I deserve a little trophy don't you darlin’?”

You flush at the implication, Joel keeping them as a sort of token of remembrance of you, of this night.

Straightening yourself up as he finishes clothing you do you stand there, as you watch his back once more fill up glasses of water for you and him. Taking in all he is, form fitting cowboy attire still decorating his body, do you outstretched a hand to feel his bicep, a desire you’d had the moment that woman did. As he turns to face you, feeling your hand brush against his body once more he smiles slightly, teasing;

“Ya’ like what ya see sweetheart?”

“I just wanted to feel you.”

“Already did a lotta that don't ya’ think? But be my guest.”

He hands you a small glass of water as he drinks out of his own, and as silence engulfs the two of you you hear the dreaded creak of a shower turning off sound from the upstairs as reality sets in for the two of you once more.

“Think ya’ best go check on Sarah now.”

“Yeah that’d be smart.”

You avert his eyes as you’d done once prior, engulfed by embarrassment as you remember Sarah after the intimate moment you shared.

“Well, I’ll be down here for a bit longer, then headed ta’ bed. You just uh, let me know if ya need anythin’ right? You know where my room is.”

A small smile across his face implies a very different definition of ‘needing’ something, depending on how you view it. But as you ascend the stairs to help deal with Sarah once more, part of you knows that you’ll be asking him for some more help, cleaning, before night's end.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel x reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #pedro x reader #pedro pascal #cowboy pedro #cowboy joel #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction

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theetherealbloom · 1 year

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UNEVEN ODDS - CH. 5

Chapter Five: Our Mistakes Were Bound To Be Made

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, ANGST, Swearing, Suicide, reader in this chapter thinking of unalive, tiny fluff, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, the pandemic, character death, Zombies, eventual SMUT, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing, TLOU is dark please read at your own risk!

Word Count: 10.8k

A/N: HELLO! WOW UM YOU GUYS ARE SO KIND AND SWEET AND AHHHHH every time I write I get so fricken nERVOUS bcs I want to do it right and I heckin’ put a lot of pressure on myself every time I create something and I want it to be good and now I’m slowly beginning to realize I’m a perfectionist AHKJFHAHA But it’s so worth it, I always look forward to your comments and feedback and warms my heart to see you all enjoying the series so far! ALRIGHT go go go go!

(P.S. UHHH THIS GIF MAKES ME GO FERAL DASKJJFHASKDGH WHY AM I SMILING SO WIDE RN PLS I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR HIM HNGGGG)

Song: hate to be lame (feat. FINNEAS) by Lizzy McAlpine Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

TLOU WORLD - 2023

KANSAS CITY – MIDNIGHT

Joel has his large frame covering your body and you’re trying to steady your breathing. His fingers are still gripping your waist tightly, feeling them pressing onto your skin. You hear Henry speak in a commanding voice, “Eyes on me. Eyes on me.” You and Joel slowly bring your eyes to him, while yours are wide with fear like Ellie’s, Joel’s eyes are narrowed in anger. He’s pissed at himself right now.

Henry has the gun pointed at Ellie, who was kneeling with her hands up, he speaks again, “You don’t have to worry about what to say. We don’t want to hurt you. We wanna help you.” Joel only utters a single word, “Okay.” Henry shifts his weight, making it clear he’s never done this before, “Okay, um…” You try and speak up, “Henry, please put down the gun–” This takes him aback and he sputters in anger, “How the fuck do you know my name?” Your body flinches at the sound of his rising voice and fear of what he would do.

Joel’s gaze darkens, it was like as if a switch had flipped, his vein is close to popping out of his neck, he is the turbulence and wrath all at once, and he shouts at Henry, “Don’t fuckin’ talk to her like that. Only talk to me.” You and Ellie look at him, mouths slightly parting and blinking up at him in shock. There is a sudden pause that fills the fair, and Henry understands that you were important to him, just like the girl who was kneeling in front of him. He shifts his weight again to his other side and speaks calmly this time, “I don’t know what the next step is with something like this but if I lower my gun we didn’t hurt you so you don’t hurt us. Right?”

Joel stares at him with daggers in his eyes, and refuses to warm his tone as he replies, “That’s right.” Henry blinks twice and nervously says, “That’s a weird fucking tone, man.” Ellie is quick in trying to diffuse the situation, “That’s just the way he sounds. He has an asshole voice.” She turns to stare pointedly at him and says, “Joel, tell him he’s okay.” You softly say, “Joel, please.” A beat passes, but Joel doesn’t let up, his voice becomes colder, and stares unwaveringly as he looks at Henry, “Everything is great.”

Ellie lets out an exasperated sigh, “Dude.” While Henry lets out a curse, “Fuck!” His hands are shaking and you get to hear the rattle of the gun as he speaks, “Okay. Listen. I’m gonna trust you.” Henry lifts his arm to get Sam’s attention, the young boy turns his head to his older brother who begins to use sign language, “I’m going to trust him.” Sam signs back to him asking, “Are you sure?” And Henry reassures him, “Yes.” His voice rises again, “But if either of you guys try anything…” He points the gun closer to Ellie’s head, indicating what he means, “Yeah?”

Ellie replies with an unsteady, “Yeah.” And Sam steps off of you and Joel, no longer perched up above you. You feel his grip loosen a bit, but his presence is still there. Joel thinks for a second and asks Henry, “Can we sit up?” And he replies simply, “Yeah. Slow. Get up slow.”

You feel his hands leave your hips and slowly remove himself from you, and you and he sit up slowly, doing as you were told. Joel asks for verification, “Is your name, Henry?” He nods, “Yeah, my name’s Henry. That’s my brother, Sam. I’m the most wanted man in Kansas City. Although right now… my guess is you’re running a close second.” Henry lowers the gun from Ellie’s head, and the uneasiness of the situation dissipates a little bit. You feel your throat closing up as you stare at Sam and Henry, two characters whose futures were written with crayons and coloring books. It was misspelled and outside the lines, and you know their stories end in tragedy.

You, Joel, and Ellie sat across from Henry and Sam, in a fully formed circle. They had asked if you had any food and you nodded, grabbing the remaining packs of food from your bag. The lamp in the center illuminated the room, brushing aside the dark and making room for the bright. You were all chewing and eating quietly, discomfort hanging in the air, a scale waiting to tip off balance, this alliance that had been formed through force and tension.

While chewing, Henry decides to break the silence to ask, “Where’d you get these?” Ellie chirpily replies, “From Bill. He’s dead.” Your lips form into a frown at her words, even though you haven’t met Frank and Bill, the thought of them always causes your eyes to glaze over, your gaze now distant, over the memory of their love and how it ended. Not knowing what to say, the two brothers keep quiet at her statement.

Joel is busy glaring at Henry, unhappy and pissed at his presence, but his overwhelming sense of responsibility takes over and looks to the younger kid Sam, he crumples up the wrapper and gives his remaining food to him. He smiles and taps Henry’s shoulder, signing a thank you, and telling Joel, “He says thank you. I’m guessing you don’t have much, so this means a lot.”

Joel doesn’t say anything and he’s completely stoic, you decide to look at Sam and give him a small wave and you begin to move your hands and arms to sign and speak, “How old are you?” Everyone looks at you in surprise, not expecting what you had done, Henry raises an eyebrow, “You know ASL?” And you nod and signed as you spoke so Sam could also understand, “I’m close with my cousin, she’s deaf. I decided to take up classes early on so I could gossip to her about boys every time she came over after school without my parents finding out.”

Joel can’t take his eyes off of you, his compartmentalization is cracking and this close to shattering. He wonders how he got so lucky to have you with them, and this contrast with Joel’s abject terror at having to feel any sort of fondness or emotions towards you and Ellie. He’s trying to find a reason for him to be angry, to lash out at you for being so kind in an upside-down world, but he can’t bring himself to.

Sam smiles and signs to you, “Eight.” Ellie smiles and says “Cool. I’m Ellie.” And you sign her name for him, and he nods in understanding, you also sign your name and he smiles at you, what a beautiful kid. Ellie then wacks Joel on the knee so he could be polite and introduce himself, he looks at the girl with a frown, and she persists him, he sighs, “I’m Joel. Look, you ate, we didn’t kill each other let’s call this a win-win and move on.” Henry cleans his hands and swallows the rest of his food, “Well, I’m betting that ya’ll came up here to get a view of the city and plan a way out. And when the sun’s up I’ll show you one.”

TLOU WORLD - 2023

OFFICE BUILDING, KANSAS CITY – DAY

“Welcome to Killa City.” Henry says as you three look out the large glass window, “No FEDRA.” Joel states and Henry confirms this, “Not as of ten days ago, no.” Joel has his arms crossed over his chest, while you stand beside him, he says, “We always heard KC FEDRA was…”

“Monsters? Savages? Yeah, you heard right.” Henry said and he recounts what happened in those walls, “Raped and tortured and murdered people for twenty years. And you know what happens when you do that to people? The moment they get the chance, they do it right back to you.” You shudder at the thought of that, for twenty years FEDRA raped, tortured, and murdered for sport, all because they had the opportunity and power to do as they pleased. “But your not FEDRA?” Joel asks him, Henry looks up at him, “No, worse. I’m a collaborator.”

“What’s a collaborator?” You ask, and Joel answers you, “He’s a rat. I don’t fuckin’ work with rats,” He’s turning and about to usher you away but Henry is swift as he retorts, “Yeah, you fucking do. Today you do because I live here and you don’t. That’s how I followed you here. I know this city, and that’s how I’m gonna help you get out.” Joel’s eyes narrow in suspicion, “Why help us?”

“I saw what you did. What you both did. The way you killed those men.” His eyes shift to look at you and Joel subtly steps in front of you to block him from staring at you, his protective instinct taking over, Henry stares at Joel again, “Now, I know where to go but I don’t know how to make it through alive. Not if it’s just me and Sam.”

“You seem capable enough. You’re armed.” Joel says and Henry shakes his head, “You’re wrong and wrong. Never killed anyone. And pointing an unloaded gun at both of you was the closest I’ve ever come to being violent. So that’s the deal. I show the way. You clear the way.”

A laugh from Ellie and Sam causes the three of you to bring your eyes to them. They’re reading Ellie’s pun book and giggling to themselves. Henry has made a major admission to the two of you, that their guns were not loaded. Joel faces the window again, trying to decide, and you hug yourself with both your arms and listen to Henry say, “Haven’t heard that in a long time.”

“So how are we getting out?” Joel asks reluctantly with both hands on his hips, he has no other option but to let Henry lead the way. He grabs a piece of paper, places it on the conference table, then uses a pencil and begins to draw a map of the area, he begins to explain how to cross the highway, “Highways, downtown.” He points to the center of the paper, “Us.” He circles a specific area of the map, “This whole area belongs to Kathleen.”

“She’s in charge?” Ellie questions next to you, “Leader of the resistance,” Henry confirms, “You can see the way we’re bounded by highways. They got people posted all around the inside perimeter. If we get close, we get caught. No question. So how do we get across?” Henry bangs on the table, the vibrations getting caught with Sam’s senses, he looks to Henry and signs to him, “How do we get across?” The young boy nods and writes across the Woody Woodpecker doodle pad, and he holds up the board, “Tunnels.”

Henry snaps his fingers, “Boom.” And Joel is perplexed as he questions, “Kansas City has a subway?” The older brother looks down before replying, “No, but they do have maintenance tunnels. There’s a bunch of buildings all put up by the same developers. And they share these tunnels, including… a bank building here.” He begins to draw on the sheet of paper again the graphite leaving marks on it, “So we enter the tunnels here travel underground, and pop up here. Westside North. Residential.” Joel has his mouth twisted to the side while you’re trying to process all the information being said by Henry, “There’s an embankment on the other side of the houses. We head down, pedestrian bridge over the river,” he claps his hand for emphasis, “free as a bird.”

“You’re right. That’s a great plan. So, what do you need me for?” Joel his voice was deep and stern as he asked, Henry, licks his lips nervously and takes a breath before replying, “You noticed anything strange about this city? I mean, other than the strange shit you’ve already seen.” You’re quick to reply, “There’s no infected above ground.”

“Bingo, damn she knows ASL and she’s observant, you’re pretty smart,” Henry says and you stare wide-eyed at his compliment, not knowing how to take it. Joel, however, is clenching his fist, and scowling at him. He clears his throat, uncomfortable and intimidated, “FEDRA drove them underground fifteen years ago and never let them come back up. It’s the only good thing those fascist motherfuckers ever did.”

“So you want us going into a tunnel?” Joel states and Henry quickly defends himself, “Everyone thinks that it’s full of Infected including Kathleen, which means that we’re not gonna be running into any of her people. But you see, what I know is it’s empty.” He smiles smugly and Joel is skeptical, “You’ve been down there?” Henry replies with a meek, “No,” Joel takes a deep, frustrated, breath, about to chew him out but Henry pushes on, “but the FEDRA guy that I worked with told me that it’s clean, completely clean. They cleared it out. All of it.”

“When?” Ellie asks this time, “Like three years ago.” Henry replies, and Joel tsked at him while placing both palms on the table, shaking his head in disapproval, he responds with, “Okay, maybe, there’s one or two but you handle it.” Joel looks up at him, “What if there’s more?” Ellie adds, “And one of those blind ones that sees like a bat?” Henry looks surprised, “Wait, you ran into a clicker?” The young girl acts brave, “Two of them.” He then says proving his point, “And you’re still alive. You see? You’re the right people. If it gets bad down there we turn around and run right back out the same way we came.” Joel pushes himself off the table, puffing his chest, “That’s your great plan?” Henry shoots back, “No, that’s my dicey-as-fuck plan. But as far as I could tell,” he shrugs, “it’s our only shot.”

Joel sighs and you hear a thumping sound from the table, it’s coming from Sam, and he signs, “What are they saying?” Henry looks to you for an answer, and immediately your gaze is fixed on Joel, the temper in his eyes cool down and soften, this tells you all you need to know, you look to Sam as you speak and sign to the young boy, “We’re going to help you escape.”

TLOU WORLD - 2023

BANK BUILDING, KANSAS CITY – DAY

The group makes their way across the street and into the abandoned bank. The tall glass windows made you restless, if one of the rebels drove by someone could spot you easily. Joel reads your mind as he says, “We need to get out of sight.” Henry takes a look around and spots the entrance, “Uh, I think it’s this way.” Joel nods and the group breaks into a jog to the right-side hallway of the bank building. The squeak of the door fills breaks the silence and the shine of flashlights chase away the darkness. All of you enter, and Henry says to Joel, “This should be it. You ready?” Joel shifts his gaze to Ellie and then you, “Get your gun out.”

Ellie smiles and pulls it out of her jacket pocket and you do the same, Joel begins to take the lead and you trail behind him. He pushes the large metal maintenance door, shining his flashlight and making sure it’s clear. “See, it’s empty. The plan is good.” Henry says optimistically, and you shake your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. You hear Joel shush him, “The plan is good? We’ve been down here for two seconds. We don’t know anything.” Henry leans back a little, tilting his head at Ellie and you, “You’re dad’s kind of a pessimist.” And in synchronized fashion, the two of them reply, “He’s not my dad.” While Joel says, “I’m not her dad.” You nearly laugh and hide your face with one of your hands as the other was currently holding the flashlight and gun. Henry doesn’t say anything and Joel begins to give instructions, “Just point your light forward and be ready to run.”

You walk a few paces behind Joel with Ellie right behind you, the sound of footsteps echoes in the tunnel, and with every step, you hear the sound of the cement beneath your boots. After what seems like an hour, you take a left, to a section of the tunnel, and stumble across a colorful entrance, one you instantly recognize from one of the scenes in the video game. A castle is painted at the entrance of the door, and blue covers the walls representing the sky, people were drawn on them, child-like in manner. Flowers were painted, along with hills and rainbows.

Ellie lets out a quiet, “Woah,” as your lights bounced around the walls to admire and inspect them. You see Sam about to open the door but Joel stops him while shaking his head, “No.” He goes first, pushing the heavy door, taking a peek with his gun out, and finding no infected.

The rest of the group follows him inside to find chairs, tables, toys, and books scattered around the room. You see the large goal painted on the wall and find a ball right next to it. Joel looks up to find the ventilation fan and says, “I heard about places like this. People went underground after Outbreak Day. Built settlements.”

“What happened to them?” Ellie asks, and Joel looks at the whiteboard with the written house rules, “Maybe they didn’t follow the rules and they all got infected.” Ellie hums and walks over to one of the tables, Sam plops down on one of the chairs, and she messes around with him. Joel looks at a kid’s drawing on the wall, figures representing Danny and Ish. You look over his shoulder and then approached the wall, grabbing the drawing. Joel watches you and asks, “Do you know who they are?” You nod, “Yeah, Ish’s backstory might be different though. But the summary of it is that he established a community here with another guy named Danny, and Suzan and Kyle, with their kids. And several others, but at some point, a door was left open. Just like you said, someone forgot to follow the rules.” Joel sees you frowning and your eyes sad, “What happened to them?” You look up at him, “Ish, Suzan, and the kids escaped and made it out to the suburbs, after that their fate is unknown.”

You hear Ellie and Sam find a Savage Starlight comic and hear her excitement, “No way! I love these!” They begin to converse over the comic issues that they have, you shine your light around the room, looking through books and drawings. You hear Ellie speak again, “To the edge of the universe and back. Endure and Survive.” He begins to teach her how to sign the last two words, “Endure. Survive. Fuck yeah, man!” And they giggle and high-five.

“Keep it down. We’re not out yet.” Joel says and you’re busy grabbing one of the science books that was left behind, you hear Ellie groan, “Oh, c’mon. Can we just rest here for a while? There’s like actually shit to do here.” Henry pipes in, “Wouldn’t be so bad to wait the light out a bit. Safer in the shadows when we pop back out on the other side.” You also decide to mumble, not caring if they heard or not, “And let them be kids for a bit. It wouldn’t hurt them to have a little fun.”

Ellie looks at Joel, and seemingly outnumbered, he shrugs and lets them do whatever. The three of you sit at the table, next to Joel, while he and Henry watch both of the kids play. You are busy studying the book you found, was a bit outdated, but it still held the key information you needed to review, and for some reason, you’re having a hard time remembering important memories.

You hear Ellie and Sam having the most fun that they’ve had in years. Their life is a gorgeous broken gift, with billions of people waiting to be fixed. They were just kids who grew up strong enough to pick this armor up, and suddenly it fits. They grew up too quickly, but if only they knew, that the sunlight shines a little brighter, the weight of the world’s a little lighter all because of them.

You hear Joel lowly speak, “If you were… collaboratin’ to take care of him I shouldn’t have said what I said. I don’t know you’re situation. And I’m not sayin’ they should let it go, but… All things considered, seems kinda cruel… to send a whole army after you for that.” You raise your eyes from the book, watching the two men, Henry looks down before he admits what information he was hiding, “You know, I wasn’t… exactly telling you two the truth before about me not killing someone.”

Joel turns to look at him with his mouth slightly parted while your eyes are simply waiting for him to continue, “There was a man, a great man. You know, he was never afraid, never selfish, and he was always forgiving. Have you ever met someone like that? Kind of man you’d follow anywhere.” Your leg begins to bounce up and down in anticipation while you slowly bring your eyes to Joel. He wasn’t that kind of man, and despite that, you knew deep down you follow him anywhere. Henry continues and your eyes dart back to him, “I mean, I wanted to. I would’ve. Yeah, but… Sam, he… he got sick. Leukemia.” Your leg stops bouncing after that, you completely go numb and breathing becomes a little harder. A pause between you three, a dose of reality that there were plenty of other illnesses and diseases besides the cordyceps they had to worry about. The quality and value of human lives have deteriorated over the twenty years in their world, and the decisions people have collectively made, to fight each other rather than together inevitably cause the apocalyptic world they have today. You know so little, yet fear so much. You aspire not to expire at the hand of some infectious disease. Children can no longer have proper childhoods, and no more clumsy start to adolescence, the moment they were brought into this world, they now also carry the burden of the past.

Henry continues, “Yeah, anyway… there was one drug that worked and, whoa, big shock. There wasn’t much left of it and it belonged to FEDRA. And if I wanted some it was gonna take something big. So I gave them something big. That one great man. The leader of the resistance movement in Kansas City. And Kathleen’s brother. Yeah, so… you still think they should take it easy on me? Or am I the bad guy?”

You rub the side of your face in exhaustion and stress, while Joel gives him a one-shoulder shrug, “I don’t know what you’re waitin’ on, man. The answer’s easy. I am the bad guy because I did a bad guy thing.” You shake your head, “What was his name?” He promptly responds, “Michael.” You continue, disagreeing with his statement, “No, it will never be that easy. You made a human decision. You took a risk because of your love for Sam at the cost of an uprising that wouldn’t have even happened if you hadn’t done what you did.” Henry only looks at you with guilt then he stares at Joel, “But you get it, though. You might not be her father, but you were someone’s.” Joel doesn’t deny it and simply looks down at the table while Henry goes on, “See, I could tell.” He shifts his gaze at you again, “You weren’t a parent, but I see how hard you try to be there for everyone.”

Joel looks at you for confirmation, but you merely blink with a gaze full of denial, you turn away and stand up from your chair while grabbing your flashlight, gun, and bag, “It doesn’t matter. I don’t matter. The sun is about to set, let’s go.” For the first time, you were the one to walk away.

TLOU WORLD – 2023

PARKING LOT OF THE BANK OF AMERICA, ON THE WAY TO THE SUBURBS, KANSAS CITY – NIGHT

The sound of the metal door opening fills your ears as you walk out of the stairwell, flashlights shine through the darkness as Joel asks, “Do you know where we are?” Henry replies with optimism, “Yep. The other side.” You begin to walk away from the parking lot and into the suburbs. You pull Joel to the side and tug on his arm, he leans down to your height before you could go on your tip toes, and you whisper, “Joel, I’m not sure Sam and Henry are gonna make it. So far it’s been good, and things might’ve changed but I’m not sure what’s going to happen next, ‘cause I can’t remember how it goes from here.”

He looks at you with great concern, “What do you mean?” Your eyebrows tense and your eyes nervously move and shift as the words spill out of your mouth, talking in circles, “Henry might kill himself, but I don’t know why, something is stopping me from fully remembering, I was gonna tell you as soon as I could, but everything was happening so fast and at first I couldn’t recognize anything until the settlement we found… but I can’t… I’m trying my hardest, I swear but–” Joel grips your shoulders and you freeze, “Look at me.” You can feel your heartbeat racing, the anxiety running through your bloodstream and crippling your ability to breathe, “Hey… Hey. Look at me. It will be fine, we’ll figure it out, together.” Your eyes slowly fix on him as the both of you stood there, you know Joel doesn’t make promises, he isn’t at that point yet, but his sense of needing to care for you, to find a way to get rid of your distress, is slowly overpowering his practicality right now. He feels it within himself as his eyes are steadily on yours, trying to keep you grounded, here with him. Slowly, you come back to yourself and take a deep breath, mimicking his breathing.

The world was brighter before you had learned to dim it down, now you call it survival, breath is borrowed and our compass within you stands still. Beneath your brave and trusting feet, all revelations come to you in recovery, you start to nod at the man in front of you, who had his hand still gripped on your shoulders, “I’m fine. I’m okay. Let’s keep going.”

You hadn’t realized that the rest of the group had stopped a few steps ahead of you to give you and Joel the privacy you needed, he lets go and you follow him forward, Ellie only gives you a reassuring smile and you gently smile back at her. There are rows of houses sound asleep, and only streetlamps notice you, while you look for signals, for a clue.

Joel continues to lead the pack and you hear Henry comment from behind you, “No one is here. No one’s gonna be here because my plan worked.” You look up to the sky in annoyance as you, “Can you not say shit like that. It’ll jinx us.” And Joel clicks his tongue at him, “So much goddamn talkin’.” Ellie smirks at both of your attitudes while Henry points out, “I’m just sayin’, I deliver.” He raises his arm and directs, “Make this right, go down the street embankment behind the last house… and we’re out.”

Ellie peers at Henry questioning him, “So we cross the river, and then what? Where ya gonna go?” He ponders for a moment, “Don’t know yet.” And Ellie can’t help herself as she says to him, “Well, we’re goin’ to Wyoming.” Joel turns his head to glare at Ellie, she shrugs at him, “What? It’s a huge state. It can fit two more people.” He looks ahead, not wanting to argue with her, Henry senses Joel doesn’t want them joining, “Yeah. Maybe we just call this one a success and say our fond farewells.” Ellie replies, “No. He’ll change his mind. Trust me. This is how it goes.” Then she begins to mock Joel’s tone and voice, “He’s like, ‘No, Ellie. Never, ever, ever happening.’ And then I’m like, ‘I’m gonna ask you a million more times.’ And he’s like–”

The sound of a bullet piercing through one of the rusting cars on the side of the street causes all five of you to flinch and duck your heads, you hear Ellie scream, “Fuck!” You’re all confused and puzzled, looking for the source of the sound. A second shot rings out and you all fully process you’re now in a potentially life-threatening situation. Joel shouts and covers you all, “Move! Move! Go!” You all run to hide behind a car, and get low on the ground, “Where the fuck is that coming from?” Henry asks and Joel hisses at him, “Shut up.”

Joel peeks to try and identify where the sniper is positioned, he sees a muzzle flash go off at the end of the road, the highest window of the last house, and he ducks back down. The sharp sound of glass shattering behind you. You hear Henry, “Shit. All right, fuck. Let’s move. Let’s go.” And proceeds to grab Sam by the wrist, attempting to run away, Joel yells at them for their naiveness, “What are you doin’?” He replies, “Gettin’ the fuck outta here!” But another gunshot rings out, hitting the rooftop of one of the nearby cars, Henry reacts and drags Sam back to the three of you, he asks panting, “What do we do?” Joel tries to peek again and luckily the guy misses and hits the car’s trunk.

After assessing the situation, Joel tucks his revolver back in his gun holster, “All right. Stay here.” Ellie whips her head to look at him and you do the same, all at once you both say, “What?” He brings his body to fully face the both of you, “If you don’t move, he’s not gonna hit you. I’m gonna go around, try to get in the house from the back, and then I’ll take him out.” Ellie brings up her valid concern, her voice filled with worry, “But if you go out there he’s gonna kill you.” Joel responds with confidence, “It’s dark and he has shit aim. Nobody’s gonna kill me.” She tries to argue, “Then he’s gonna kill us.”

A beat passes. Then Joel looks directly at Ellie, his eyes firm and steady, with no ounce of doubt, he asks her full of conviction, “Do you trust me?” Ellie swallows down her fear, blinks, and nods. “Birdie, watch over her,” Joel commands and leaves you no room or time to argue, he gets up and proceeds to make his way over to the house down the road.

You and Ellie anxiously watch from a distance, each second you’re secretly praying and wishing that nothing happens to him. Your heart is beating so loudly, the sound of drums beating and thumping non-stop, your worry so evident that you try and stop the oncoming tears that threaten to spill off your face. How quickly did you grow attached to someone who you once believed wasn’t even real? The truth is, the chances are you are alike, against the odds and the grain. Against what better judgment writes, you both ache like children for love. You have no stakes on the ground or an anchor tied down. There are no guarantees, you know nothing but your fears of attachment and neediness.

You toss your feelings away, letting them sink deep below the ocean floor in your chest. It doesn’t matter. You remind yourself and watch him make his way to the back of the house, no longer seeing the silhouette of his figure. Two more loud pops and then the gunfire stops, the four of you sit in quiet eerie silence. You couldn’t tell if minutes or an hour had passed, but a distant gunshot could be heard, this time not directed at any of you.

You hear a revving car from a distance, and Joel distant yell but is unable to understand what he’s trying to communicate. Ellie’s ears perk up and you all stand to see lights appearing from a distance. Shit. You grab Ellie by the wrist and yell out, “Run!” You feel your whole body working; your leg muscles running warm, cold air entering your lungs and blood flowing into all your limbs. Your calves burned, and your breath formed clouds in the air. You look up at the house while sprinting, and from a distance you see Joel trying to take out the driver of the plow that was barreling through the cars. You and Ellie try to shoot while running, but it does essentially nothing to stop the truck.

The tensions heighten when Joel’s rifle jams and you three are helplessly trying to evade the plow. But this jam provides pause for Joel to collect his breath and re-aim, so the next shot he fires takes out the plow driver. The large truck crashes into a house, causing it to go ablaze and a loud explosion occurs. Ellie falls to the grown and you pick her right back up, quickly ushering her to Henry and Sam, who were hiding behind one of the old and rotting cars, you ask her, “You okay?” She replies with a small, “Yeah.” You hear a loud voice coming from a woman, assuming it’s Kathleen, “Dead end, Henry. Gonna step on out? Save us some time? No? That’s all right, it doesn’t matter.”

Henry looks at Sam, who’s terrified and shaking, he yells out, “I’ll come out! Just let the girl and the kids go!” Kathleen clicks her tongue and in a calm tone, she responds, “No. Sorry. Those two girls are with the man who killed Bryan. And Sam… Well, Sam’s with you.” Henry argues, “You don’t understand!” And the rebel leader pushes back, “But I do. I know why you did what you did. But did you ever stop to think that maybe he was supposed to die?” His voice chokes up as answered, “He’s just a fucking kid!” You can hear the way Kathleen rolls her eyes, “Well, kids die, Henry. They die all the time. You think the whole world revolves around him? That he’s worth… everything? Well, this is what happens when you fuck with fate.”

You couldn’t help yourself, the lightheadedness you feel, the built-up stress, the adrenaline within you, the gasoline that had turned into a flame, an anger that could match a bull’s, recklessly you shout at her, “I’m sorry about Michael, I am. But, Kathleen, can you fucking look past your revenge? Past your hate? Did you even fucking realize that none of this would have happened, your so-called freedom and victory over FEDRA would have never happened if your brother hadn’t died.”

“You have no idea what it’s fucking like! To be without him! He was everything!” She shrieks and you raise your voice louder, “I fucking do! To have everything you’ve known and loved taken away from you? To lose? I know it all too well. Kathleen, can’t you see? We all lost. All of us lost the day the outbreak happened.” There was a pause, and you hear the gears turning in their heads, you continue, “Will killing us bring them back from the dead, or will it just validate your anger? The world ended and all this time we’ve wasted trying to kill each other instead of working together to try and fix the obvious problem. And for what? Tell me. What good did it do?”

A collective silence fills the air, save for the only noise coming from the burning house across the street, Kathleen shakes her head and shifts her weight from one foot to the other, sealing her fate, “I don’t care.”

You shake your head in disappointment, Henry grabs you by the wrist, “Get ready to take them and run.” You start to argue but reassures you, “Yes! Do it.” You grab Ellie’s hand while she holds Sam’s, ready to run. You hear Kathleen speak again, “It’s time, Henry. Enough!” He takes a deep breath before you watch him stand up, his hands in the air, walking into their view. Kathleen shrugs, “It ends the way it ends.” The click of a gun could be heard, and you anticipate the gunshot but instead hear a loud rumbling noise.

You peek past the cars to see the plow truck has damaged the basement of the house, caving a hole into the sewers below, and then you hear the familiar sound of groans and screeching. The Infected geyser up out of the hole, all at once, sprinting towards the rebels. The sounds of gunfire rang out and more infected came up out of the hole, they seemed infinite. Henry joins back to the three of you and hides behind the truck, a Clicker chases after him and stands atop the truck only for it to get shot by Joel. Henry grabs Sam and decides to run away, you and Ellie do the same. Only for you to get separated when a Clicker grabs Ellie, and Joel shoots it from the perch. The impact causes you both to fall, this is when you and Ellie spot an open car window. Knowing you won’t fit, you tell Ellie, “Go, I’ll help clear the way and then find another way to the house.” She nods and begins to crawl, and you raise your gun and fire at the infected, trying your best to protect Ellie, doing what Joel asked of you. Hearing the more shots from above, you knew Joel was also clearing the way for Ellie.

When she crawls through the window, your mind begins to race. You need to find cover and fast. Finding another car, you duck behind it, reloading your gun as you do. You shouldn’t draw attention, and make as minimal noise as possible. The screams of rebels being attacked fill your ears as well as cars ramming over dozens of Infected. A Clicker approaches you but you push down your fear and side-step it, twisting your body and then shooting twice at its head. It falls limp to the ground, a Runner tries to grab you but you manage to hit it with the butt of your gun, shooting it straight in the head.

You hear a large growl from the crater, and turn your body to look for the noise. Motherfucker. A Bloater begins to emerge from the underground, completely covered in fungal armor plating, its belly sagging and spores popping out from each part of its body. The massive beast tears into the army like it's made of paper people. No amount of bullets will do any damage to the Bloater, and you have zero molotov cocktails, the best course of action was to get Ellie and run. You spot and see Ellie hastily crawl out of the van, a child clicker screaming from the inside of the car. You dart your eyes to see where Ellie is going and spot Henry and Sam surrounded by two Infected.

You sprint your way over there, helping Ellie get rid of the first Clicker and Joel shooting the second one from a distance. A thin layer of sweat covers the back of your neck, and you can feel the aching of your back, as you fight off another Clicker, its mouth screeching at you and trying to bite you. Another loud pop of a gunshot rings out and the Clicker goes limp, you take a large breath and grab Ellie, along with Sam and Henry. The young girl yells out, “Come on… come on! Go… Go!”

You make it out past all the chaos to the front area of the last house, as you run, you hear Kathleen shout, “Stop!” All of you turn to face her, she has a gun pointed directly at Henry. Your heart is racing, and your breathing rate rises rapidly, you bring your eyes to an infected crawling from behind the fence, and Kathleen turns to see what you’re looking at. She was too slow to react, the child Clicker shrieked and jumped on top of her, and the leader of the rebellion fell to the ground screaming. The creature thrashes and mauls her alive as she’s screeching for her life. A car crash you couldn’t turn away from, as you watched her get bit, mumbling under your breath, “Comeuppance.”

Joel makes his way downstairs and outside the house to find all of you frozen, he yells to get his group's attention, “This way now! Move!” Joel is the last to follow, ensuring everyone’s safety. Even from a large distance, you could hear the hundreds of clickers making their way into Kansas City, ready to infect and destroy the foundations they have built.

TLOU WORLD – 2023

ABANDONED MOTEL SUITE, KANSAS CITY – NIGHT

With the fighting over, the five manage to find a safe refuge away from the carnage. A motel suite far away from the infected in the city, for now. The stars are a choir in the symphony of the black; they are lights that sing in limitless ways. Sometimes music is needed for the eyes, and the deeper the night, the sweeter the melody.

You, Joel, and Henry sit in the musty living room area. Henry is sitting on top of a bedside table, while Joel is sitting on the floor, one leg curled up to his chest while the other is stretched out, he has his back to the radiator, and you are next to him curled into a ball, elbows almost brushing, but they don’t. You can hear the chirping of crickets, indicating the bugs have come out to play and exchange stories. The only source of light is the yellow glow from the bedroom, you watch Ellie and Sam continue to read the comic book that they found from the settlement.

“You think they’ll be okay?” Henry asks, still eating the remaining food you’ve packed. Joel nods, “Yeah, I think. It’s easier when you’re a kid anyway.” There’s an audible gulp as he swallows, “You don’t have anybody else relying on you. That’s the hard part.” Henry nods, “Well… I guess we’re doing a good job then.” Joel agrees, “What’s that comic book say? Endure and survive?” And the other man confirms it, “Endure and survive. That’s shits redundant.” Joel gives a breathy laugh, “Yeah, it’s not great.” Henry chuckles with him, “Yeah, no.”

You get up from the floor, not having the heart to tell them how they were wrong. Those kids now felt an enormous amount of responsibility for one another. And to survive means to stave off death, but to endure means to emotionally harden oneself, and tolerate the pain of survival. You begin to walk out the door of the room and Joel calls your name but you don’t turn around, he calls for you again, “Where are you goin’?” You don’t look at him as you lie through your teeth, “I’m just gonna go look at the stars for a bit. I’ll be right outside the door.” You exit the room after that, quietly shutting the door, and sitting on the pavement that faces the parking lot.

You let out a loud sigh, close your eyes, and cover them with your hands. You’re completely worn out, your mind is full but you can't speak, these tired gears, and you’re here somewhere between, drained from the events of today. You remove your hands from your face and take the gun out of your holster, letting it lay flat on the palms of your hand. The heavyweight of your decision rests on a single action.

You nervously lift the left sleeve of your jacket, the bitemarks of the infection are there, but there is no sign of it spreading, no yellowing or puss seeping out of your skin. Your mouth partially opens in shock and confusion, with only one thought in your mind. What the fuck?

You pull the sleeve of your jacket down. This doesn’t make any fucking sense. Then again, you’re in a supposed fictional world with its main cast of characters. None of it should make sense. But you figured, the rules would apply to you as well, that you could get infected. You felt ignorant, humiliated, and painfully unmagical. You are old enough to distinguish a sorceress from a lonely girl, and magic from survival. You make every effort to leave the past alone; it is the result of living in the between, the weight of your found family, and the pull of gravity.

You slowly form your hypothesis in your head as to why you’re immune. Could it be because you weren’t supposed to be here in the first place? You recall something from your previous research notes, ‘In theory, it could be possible to analyze the state of every atom in a person’s body and transmit it to a new location, where the person could be reassembled atom by atom.’

You take a large inhale and rest your head on your hand, which means needing enough information and processing power by using a quantum system, and while measuring, there are multiple possibilities, until the measurement is conducted. But that processing power would have needed an immense amount of energy.

In the tug of war between the tide, you were swept ashore like bottles holding prayers. The courage you contained, and the flutter of your earnest heart, will fill the silent seas, and it has restored a part of your memory. Radiation has become a key factor in the multiple theories you’ve read over the years. So when your atoms had been reassembled, your body must have also mutated and adapted to kill foreign infections, including the Cordyceps.

You hear the sound of the door closing and you don’t need to guess who was there behind you. With the heavy footsteps and sound of the rustling jacket, he quietly groans as he sits next to you on the pavement, the smell of ash and smoke exuding from his being. Joel notices the gun, which was now on your lap but he remains silent, not knowing what to say or do, while you’re deciding if you should share what you’ve discovered with him. You didn’t even register that you were bouncing your leg up and down again until he cautiously and slowly placed his hand on your knee, which caused you to stop the action.

You tilt your head to look at him, and he sees the clear glaze around your eyes, this moment, where you recognize you have no idea what the future holds anymore and the story you’ve been silently telling yourself about what the future is going to be like, has fallen apart in a matter of minutes. It doesn’t get replaced with any new information, it’s simply vanished, an atmospheric tumult. You find no comfort in this discovery, it's like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark and mistaking one stair for another. Your foot slips through the air, and you have a sickening moment of gloomy astonishment as you struggle to reset your perspective.

You are desperate for some kind of clue, this kind of fear of the unknown terrifies you, the sudden obliteration of expectation, the overwhelming feeling of frustration and fear builds up and rushes down like a rapid river stream. You bite down your lip to stop it from trembling and fold your hands to stop them from shaking. You’re trying to find the best way to avoid confrontation or conflict, but Joel still has his hand on your knee, not letting you get up and leave again without explaining yourself. You could be described as a great river, one which can carry everything along with them but with a hidden dammed-up reservoir of energy. You have very little access to it, due to feeling bad for rocking the boat. For this reason alone, you are generally tired all the time.

Take a deep breath to center yourself, willing yourself to not stutter, and you tell him word by word what you’ve discovered and the possibility of how you got into this world. He stays silent, listening to every word coming out of your mouth, even the science jargon he’s not used to. But what he does understand is, you’re immune just like Ellie. He’s still silent by the time you’re done, and you’re so nauseous that you might throw up on him. You turn away from him, waiting for him to lash out at you, scream and leave you behind. He takes his hand away from your knee, you feel the air in your lungs refusing to leave, and you shut your eyes, anticipating the warm body next to you to walk away.

Instead, he removes the gun from your lap and places it on the ground right next to him, then he holds your elbow cautiously and gently, and your eyes open in surprise, you watch him roll up your sleeve to see the bite completely faded, leaving an almost unnoticeable scar. He brings his eyes to yours and he anchors you down safely, there is rage in his eyes, and you quietly whisper, “Joel?”

You feel his hands squeezing your arm as he hissed at you, “Are you out of your goddamn mind? You should’ve known better than to go out there fightin’ all those infected. How could you be so reckless? What were you thinkin’?” You’re befuddled by his sudden lashing out, you narrow your eyes and try to uncover what he truly meant, and you try to calmly reply, “Joel, it’s okay... Next time, I’ll be more careful, and since I’m immune–” He talks over you, stern and unsmiling, “There will be no next time.” You pull back a little from him, “What? Are you serious? I’m immune and there was barely a scratch on me when the car–” He doesn’t let you finish your sentence, his voice so cold as he says, “You got hurt. Twice. Because of me. Of what I did and keep asking you to do and you would’ve ended up like–”

You frown and can’t help the questions in your mind spiral, what if your injury had gotten worse or you hadn’t been immune? You could have turned. Just like Tess. Does he believe you’re her replacement? That you could be like her? Or you could end up like her?

You blink at him, putting more distance between you two, there is a war inside of you, you are out of depth at this altitude, it’s suffocating you, and feel your walls cave in. Your throat closes up at the thought of him thinking you were like her, that you could ever be her replacement, and your voice is soft and vulnerable as you admit the words you never wanted to say, “Joel… I’m not her. I’m not Tess.” He flinches and recognizes the hurt in your tone, and his heart sinks to his stomach faster than a stone hitting the bottom of a lake. You turn away from him, not wanting to give in to his warmth and strong protective nature, “I’m not her.”

The absence of sound between you two is deafening and consuming all that it touches. In your mind, you beg for it to stop, the need to fill the gaps with a problem you both don’t need. With folded arms and tired eyes, you try your hardest not to cry. The heavy ache in his chest leaves him restless and unable to find the right words to say. Sensing that there was nothing left to say, you stand up and turn to walk away but Joel grabs your wrist and you bring yourself to look at him to see his eyes silently pleading for you to stay. You bite the inside of your cheek and sit back down, expecting Joel to let go but he doesn’t. This causes you to lift your eyes and find him with his mouth open, trying his best to communicate with you without his pride and anger getting in the way of something good.

“You’re right, you aren’t Tess.” He said with his voice low, and can’t help the tears spill out from the rim of your eyes, you whip your head away from him, trying to pull your wrist from his grasp but he doesn’t let up, “Joel, let go of me.” He doesn’t, instead, he holds you tighter and says, “You aren’t Tess, Birdie. You are so much more than that… You are one of the good in my life that I… Hummin’ bird, I don’t know what I’d do if…”

He has trouble continuing, him admitting fragments of what he said shook you to your core. You’re incredibly clever but it takes you a while to process what he meant, so you tilt your head and try to see past his defenses, with these tall invisible walls he keeps himself in. You try to understand his perspective, it is why your mouth forms an ‘o’, not a gasp but the start of, oh, of course. He doesn’t see you as her. But he is angry, yes, but not at you, at himself. He wasn’t able to fully protect you. He made the tough call of crashing the car into the laundromat and you got hurt in the process. And then specifically asked you to watch over Ellie for him and you got bitten because of what he asked you to do.

You slowly lift your other hand to rest on his cheek, and he flinches, but after a moment he allows himself to relax, unsure and clumsy, you say, “Joel. I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I’m fine. I’m alive. I’m here with you. See?” You feel the want of thrill, of taking a risk. The pleasure of feeling the rush as feel yourself grow warmer. You let it happen.

The cracks begin to show, he feels his restraint slipping away, brick by brick and piece by piece. His struggle is not anymore with you, but with himself, his fears and desires, and the cognitive dissonance arising within. God, he’s so afraid, he wants so badly for his selfishness to win, and chooses to flutter his eyes close, with your hand still on his cheek, gently stroking his face, and for once, he thinks to himself, just for tonight, he leans closer to your touch, letting you become his sanctuary.

TLOU WORLD – 2023

ABANDONED MOTEL SUITE, KANSAS CITY – DAY

You had fallen asleep on the dark green carpeted floor next to Joel, using both of your jackets as pillows. Joel had moved in his sleep again and curled himself around you. His heavy warm arms wrapped around your waist and the ghost of his breath on your neck.

A loud thump and the sound of Ellie screaming jolts you and Joel awake. You sit up and see Sam tackle Ellie out the door of their bedroom. She hits the carpet, trying to fight off Sam, who’s scratching and shrieking at her, he has turned into the first stage of the infection. Ellie’s yells are piercing through your ears and you crawl to reach for the gun next to you, only for Henry to snatch it before you.

“Nope!” Henry says as he aims the gun at you and Joel, and Ellie is shrieking your names, for you and Joel to save her. You and Joel have a look of pure rage as you both try and take a step forward only for Henry to shoot at the floor, causing both of you to flinch back. Ellie tries again, wailing and crying out your names, and it only takes a second, before Henry turns the gun and shoots Sam right through the head. Blood splatters on the wall and the young superhero goes limp on the ground.

Your entire body is trembling, while Ellie is kneeling on the ground, looking at Sam’s lifeless body, you look at Henry, who is whimpering and sobbing, he blinks and watches his little brother’s blood stain the carpet, like spilling ink. Joel is heavily breathing and focuses on the young girl, “Ellie,” she turns numbly at him, “Are you okay?” He goes walk towards her, only for Henry to point the revolver at Joel’s head. Without a second thought, you step forward, protecting Joel from Henry. You raise your hands in front of you and plead, “Henry, easy, easy… Henry, please give me the gun.” His breath is shaking and erratic as he asks, “What did I do?” You try and calm him down, “Henry…” He doesn’t listen and still asks, “What did I do? What… what did I do?” He looks down at Sam’s limp and still body, the blood still pooling onto the carpet. A dark shade of maroon continued to seep out from his skull. “Sam?” He asks, lips quivering and his eyes full of fear, he looks back over to you, and you wail, “Henry, please don’t–”

He aims the pistol at his head, and you swore you saw before you blinked. There was no second thought, no going back or erasing. An avalanche now spent in white flag waking days. The loud pop, thud, and shriek follow in a sequence that will haunt your nightmares for the rest of your life, a memory wielded as a weapon. Every good intention is overshadowed by the stain of the past. Death is a blindfolded, bitter kiss. It's the finger put against your lips, emphasizing how they should have lived.

TLOU WORLD – 2023

OUTSIDE THE ABANDONED MOTEL SUITE, KANSAS CITY – DAY

You and Joel are outside, and the sound of shoveling dirt is a sound you’ve now grown to despise. The cold wind moves in only to meet the warmth of your blood, the only defense you have left. You feel it wash over your skin, again and again, only to be met by the beat of your aching heart. Fairness is a ghost, and its sightings take shape in such permanent truth. In the sullen silence, you were all taking turns shattering apart.

Ellie had gone back inside the motel room to get the rest of your things as you and Joel patted down the dirt, creating a small graveyard for the two brothers. If you could turn back the hourglass, you would. Reset every grain of sand, and give these two a proper chance at living the life they should have lived, you would. Your mind continues to spin webs of question marks and regrets as you stop your movements and stand there with instability. Ellie toses two backpacks on the ground, you watch her kneel on one knee and place the doodle pad on Sam’s grave, with ‘I’m Sorry’ written on it, the string of the pen is wrapped around the top and the pen is safely tucked in, making sure no one else will be able to write anything else.

Ellie stands up and asks Joel, “Which way’s west?” He only responds by tilting his head in the direction of it. She’s the first to walk away this time, a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut and bury her innocence. You and Joel say nothing as you stare at the note, and hear her call for you both, “Let’s go.”

You both drop your shovels and grab your things, catching up to Ellie. Your steady true north fades, the three of you walking toward where the sun sleeps and casting your silhouettes as you do. Maybe there’s no answer here, at least neither one of you are ready to hear. No string of words will justify it or a simple equation to show you the solution and answer. In the meantime, you learn that you don’t have all the answers, just a little light to call your own, though sometimes it pales in comparison to the overarching shadows.

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter

END NOTES:

I am a hundred percent sure this was the fastest chapter I’ve written and felt so much easier than Episode 4 ohMYGAHD

HOW ARE WE FEELING?? ARE YOU GUYS OKAY??? DRINK SOME WATER BREATHEEE

YAY YOU’RE IMMUNE CONGRATS AHHH *confetti canon*

Wait why r u not happy you’re immune- oh right, you don't know what's gonna happen to you now that you have that information and it doesn't add anything good— it just makes you feel bad lol that sucks (the sudden obliteration of expectation) cause you’ve been telling a narrative you’ve always known and it’s changed and you have no fricken clue what's next

DID I GO BACK AND FORTH WONDERING IF THE READER SHOULD BE IMMUNE: YEP, A LOT… IT KEPT ME UP TILL 4 AM AND I CHOSE THIS BCS tbh it makes sense (??) you’re already a hecking anomaly, might as well be immune too :> Also, I’d like to hope this decision helped the story progress further… I think

Did the science make sense?? I hope so, I researched a lot on quantum teleportation and its possibilities. In theory, yes it’s probable. If you can manage to send every information about the atoms in your body, then send it to a specific time and place, which would take a massive amount of energy and processing power to do, yes u can teleport hooray! I'm just gonna assume radiation plays a part in the energy aspect and then since fungal infections can’t withstand that amount of heat from the radiation and your body has adapted— yeah you get the rest. (You’re not glowing radiation, it's just your immune system can fight the fungi lol)

I know a lot of people are gonna be rolling their eyes and saying, “why am I immune, goSH, so cliCHE, Y/N? knOWS ASL TOO?? WHY AM I SO SPECIAL?? I want to get bitten and be useless and not connect with anY chAracters–” well pretty thing, you’re one of the main characters! Ofc you’re special, you freaking discovered how to get to the TLOU world, I can’t have you dying on me… yet… silly!

Joel is having internal conflict with literally with his feelings about Ellie and yOU <3 I hope I portrayed that properly and well enough. Lowkey needed to write the miscommunication part because that question of if you were just a replacement for Tess was brewing in the back of your mind. Joel being him can’t fully express his feelings properly, so you settle for the broken sentences he has to offer and piece together the shards to find clues of what he means. Later on, it will be easier for him but for now, you both take baby steps.

But God writing that part had so many revisions and played every single possible scenario in my head— constantly questioning if it was good enough. Like was the thing I was trying to do between the reader and Joel natural and seamless? Did this conflict get resolved at all? Did I do this too soon?? Idk I’m just trying my best and I’m a sucker for Joel giving in bit by bit T^T (i mean i didn't make them kiss yet so I'm assuming wasn’t so rUSHED)

This episode centered around Joel rethinking his relationship with Ellie and YOU hehe. But I did want to give Sam and Henry the spotlight they deserved as well. I tried my best to find the balance in all of this, I hope I didn’t disappoint anyone with this chapter :<<

oKAY INTO EPISODE 6 I GO, time to rewatch the pain again T^T

Grace

TAGLIST:

@memento-mora @elijahssuit @tartiflvtte @lillylilly2 @kyuupidwrites @amethystwonder11 @syd-vixious @kidkrow666 @soulofapatrick @ponyboys-sunsets @superflymaterial @chaotic-imposter @vainbimbo @eva-stark @loki-an-idiot @littleshadow17 @undermoonlightwalk @afternoon-evening @notmysunnydale @slurmp69 @gyllord @aerangi @mac5323 @friskynotebook @earth-to-lottie @chaotic-imposter @kodzuvk @hawkins-2000 @reallysparklychaos @trust-dreamcatcher @darkened-writer @memeorydotcom @welcomebackfelicia @rainbowpitofdoom @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @marvelsimpcz @dorck26 @evienorville @munsons-queen @little-miss-bi @mxltifxnd0m @ohjoelmiller @coalix @taestrwbrry @avengersheart @gyllord @valentine-babe@missdragon-1 @ponyboys-sunsets @ipadkidsworld @otternanamilolo @issybee0611 @technicallysassyfox @cupcakemachete

#uneven odds joel miller #joel miller x reader series #joel miller x poc!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x modern reader #unevenoddstaglist #unevenodds #uneven odds #alternate universe #joel miller x reader tlou #tlou rewrite #tlou remake #tlou series #tlou #tlou hbo

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intoxicated-chan · 1 month

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𝐈 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ❛𝐓𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

Summary ➳ Daryl has many regrets and he carries them everyday and everywhere but this is one that’s going to stick with him for many lifetimes.

(A/n) ➳ Inspired by “Blue Jeans” by Lana Del Rey. So… What do you guys think? P.S, I did change the title, I didn’t think it fit.

Word Count ➳ 1k

Content Warnings ➳ Female Reader/No use of (Y/n), typical TWD violence, blood, death, swearing, injuries, HEAVY ANGST, mentions of hunting animals, murder, no happy ending oops…

The last time Daryl remembered crying like he did when carrying your corpse was when he saw Merle as a Walker.

During the start of the outbreak, Daryl wanted to find you, he was willing to use all resources available for you. Merle had to stop him, reminding him that looking for you was a lost cause, but Merle praised you for your skills. You weren’t a good tracker but damn did you know how to put up a fight.

And so, every time Daryl got the chance to explore the abandoned city of Atlanta or any place, he would look for you even if it was just a sign. He refused to believe what anyone said about you and or mostly likely demise.

With an extra map that he stole, he would map out the possible courses that would direct them to you. Even if he was wrong in all of them, he was able to find one thing.

It was blue.

It was a crossbow arrow with blue fletching, ones he got for you. Each one of them was carved with both of your initials. It was a couple of weeks before the outbreak when Daryl decided to teach you how to hunt and he was surprised at how terrible you were. He took every opportunity to laugh at your horrible aim and how you scared every animal away.

“Yer gonna die if some shit happens!” Daryl snickered at you, grabbing your hands to lower your aim.

“I’m tryin’ dammit!”

“One more- Don’t start givin’ up on me.”

It was only when you started learning when the outbreak happened, that you were lost in the panic, unable to use any phones. And when you went back to the cabin Daryl shared with Merle, it was empty, cleaned out.

But you were determined to make it out and get back to him, even if you had to lose a couple of limbs. You didn’t have time to grow trust, it was do or die, and you didn’t want to die. You stuck around for the first group and stayed with the second—a big mistake.

Daryl kept the arrows close, nearly refusing to use them unless he was sure he was going to get them back. His pattern continued, map and search, search and map.

He reached another deserted city, he didn’t bother to look at names anymore. First, he scavenged for supplies, maybe food until he caught the color blue in the corner of his eye.

He saw another arrow. He confirmed it was yours by the carving, but then he saw another and then another and another…

Some were etched into the walls of the building, laid on the ground, and deep into the dead Walkers. He followed the trail, his crossbow high, he didn’t want to take any chances.

He could hear panting, he could see their shadows scurrying around the room. Hell, they were even laughing. He was caught off guard until one of them came at him from around the corner, he shot with ease, and the arrow lodged into the attacker’s thigh. He hurled it over in pain, clutching it.

“The hell’s the matter with you?!” The attacker shouted.

Daryl only rolled his eyes and shook his head, ready to turn a blind eye until he saw the assailant carrying a crossbow as well and-

Your arrows. Each caving on display.

Daryl dropped his, grabbing the man by his shirt. “Where the hell did ya get these?” He demanded to know. “How?!”

A woman suddenly gripped his arms, beginning to cry. “Please! Let us go!” She begged. “We’re jus’ tryin’ to survive! Look for our families!”

“Ya wanna live another day?” Daryl grabbed his pocket knife, bringing it to his throat. “Y’all gon tell me how ya got these.”

It was like some horrific joke.

“W-We jus’ wanted ‘er help! But she refused us!”

“And where is she?!”

“The cunt’s dead! Like the rest of ‘em!”

You were right where he said you’d be.

You were propped up against the wall. You took an arrow to your calf, arm, and your neck. The blood leaking out of your mouth was starting to dry. You must’ve bled out while they were taking your things, leaving you for dead.

And you were.

Daryl sobbed, his whole body shaking as he fell to the ground. He reached to touch your face, just barely warm. Your eyes no longer held any life in them. He sounded as if he was in pain, his chest turned as he whispered your name, practically begging for you to come back to him.

He cradled your corpse in his arms, something he wanted to do for some time but he was too chicken to even ask. He was too late.

He could no longer ask you to hunt with him, go on a midnight bike ride, take a smoke with him, or let him pour his heart out for you.

The bastards’ bodies were enough for him, even when he did finish the job on both. It wasn’t enough.

He collected your arrows first, took your body into his arms, and brought you to the rooftop of the highest building to lay your body. He remembered vividly how you loved the night sky, he didn’t understand it but that night, he did.

He took in every detail, how every start shined and glimmered. He only wished he could get your input.

But when the sun started to come up, he took your body back down and made a pyre to burn your body. But before he did, he placed a kiss on your lips, whispering words into your ear before he lit the match.

“I love you.”

And as long as he was alive, his love for you wasn’t going anywhere. He would walk this world with regret and guilt until his time was up.

Maybe in the next lifetime, he will have the courage to say those words. But it ain’t gonna be in this one.

Taglist ➳ @celtic-crossbow , @duffmckagansbandana , @gamingfeline , @thegeorgiahuntsman , @snailss , @xmaeyonaiise , @suniloli , @ladylincoln , @of-storms-and-sadness , @annhells , @sexyxdylanxobrien , @yoowhatthefuck , @oikawarz , @mylifeinthetardisforever , @let-love-bleeds-red , @virginsexgod69 , @scudslut , @theesexystallion , @yondus-girl , @sleep-queen ,

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misfitmagpie · 8 months

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Well I will gladly take a look at the fully revealed logo! Though I will say that red-archivist pointed out some good stuff in this post. But we can take a deeper look into certain things!

Also p.s.: You will want to read the giant ramble to the end, because I noticed something as I was finishing, and it puts everything in an interesting context.

As mentioned in that post, the combination of the alchemical symbols for salt, mercury, and sulphur do indeed form the tria prima, the three primes or components of life.

⊖ or salt, which represents the earth and the human body. In alchemy it also symbolises the lower consciousness, self-knowledge, and wisdom.

☿ or mercury I already covered last time, representing the mind, the omnipresent spirit of life, and stood as symbol for intellect, imagination, moral judgement, and the higher mental faculties. The alchemical associations of mercury have a strong connection with the Greek/Roman gods Hermes/Mercury, a messenger god who also acted as a chthonic deity, a psychopomp and god of boundaries to be exact. Which might be relevant, might not. (He was also a shepherd god, just adding that detail)

🜍 or sulphur represents the spirit or soul of all materials and living things. In alchemy it is seen as synonymous with consciousness and the expansion of thought. And is seen as the bridge that connects the body with mind, thus it is seen as the key to understanding the inner workings of the soul and consciousness. It’s interesting to me that the sulphur is in the logo 4 times, connected to the circle that encompasses the salt and mercury symbols, and the chevrons (I’ll get to those in a moment). This could have been purely aesthetic, but they could have also simply opted to have the sulphur symbol instead of one of the chevrons and have pretty much the same effect. Instead they chose the alchemical symbol of the soul, also seen as what ties body and mind together, also an element that is strongly associated with heat and fire, to encompass the body and mind, together with heraldic symbols of protection. It’s an interesting choice which makes me wonder about the mindset of the people who founded this organisation. (Maybe they are the types to believe in purifying fire, or purity of the soul as a way to protect oneself against the horrors out there? Who knows.)

The double ^ are chevrons, a heraldic symbol associated with protection, and meant to represent the roof of a house. Even the name is derived from the French word for “rafter”. It is also used in military or police uniforms to indicate rank or length of service. It is interesting to me that the bottom left chevron is an inverted version of the top right. The inverted version being next to the symbol for mercury or the mind, and the regular next to the symbol for salt or the body. Without it being in full colour, I can’t say much about any particular heraldic or symbolic links that might have. At most I can speculate that maybe it’s hinting at how the mind might not be as safe as the body in such a service, of course that can also be my own knowledge of TMA colouring my interpretation.

The O.I.A.R. in the top banner has been revealed! And it’s nice to get confirmation that I guessed correctly on the R! Personally I am not very good with acronyms, but @emdashingaway correctly guessed that it would be this. In my previous post about The Magnus Protocol logo she pointed out that it might stand for Office of Incident Assessment and Response, which now seems very plausible!

Now the background has some interesting repeating symbols too.

🜏

This is the Leviathan Cross, in alchemy another symbol associated with sulphur (in particular black sulphur) and thus also the soul. However it is worth noting that Anton LaVey, founder of the Church of Satan, has adopted the Leviathan Cross as a symbol of his Church in the 1960s. Though I can’t immediately find much more about it and its origins beyond the alchemical association and the very modern Satanic association. (The name Leviathan strikes me as interesting too, but there is too much that can be said about it, especially for a symbol that just occurs in the background.)

🜇

This is the alchemical symbol for aqua regia (derived from the Latin for “royal water” or “regal water”), it is a mixture of is a mixture of nitric acid and hydrochloric acid, optimally in a molar ratio of 1:3. Historically aqua regia was used in alchemy in the process of attempting to create the philosopher’s stone. It is also used to help dissolve gold and platinum within actual chemistry!

♁

Is the symbol for antimony is associated with the animal nature or wild spirit of man and nature, and it was often symbolised by the wolf.

🜘

This is the symbol for bismuth, while it does get mentioned in alchemical texts, the particular use and associations seem to be unclear. All that I can seem to find is that in early days, it was often confused for tin or lead. And that apparently Miners in the age of alchemy also gave bismuth the name tectum argenti, or “silver being made”. (Also it’s chemical symbol is Bi, which is funny given how apparently some have discovered that they are bi thanks to TMA)

I hope this is visible, but one of the symbols in the background also looks an awful lot like one of the alchemical symbols for tin. It looks like a curved X with circles at the ends of the legs. Tin in alchemy is associated with the planet Jupiter, and is sometimes called the ‘breath of life. ’ It represents the idea that the whole is stronger than the sum of its parts.

⚥

From what I can find, this is not strictly speaking an alchemical symbol. Clearly a combination of the male and female gender symbols (each of which is actually derived from the symbols for Mars and Venus respectively, which do get used in alchemy actually), it is generally seen as a hermaphroditic symbol (using the strict broad biological label here, not referring to intersex, I just want to point that out). But given all of the alchemy references so far, I suspect that it might be referencing the rebis (from the Latin res bina, meaning dual or double matter), the ultimate end product of the alchemical great work. It is sometimes described as the divine hermaphrodite—a reconciliation of spirit and matter, a being of both male and female qualities. A lot can be said about the great work in alchemy, and this post is already long enough honestly.

And lastly…

Take this, flip it upside-down, and you have the shape of the logo in which all these symbols are displayed. This is the symbol for the philosophers’ stone. In alchemy it is an unknown substance sought after by alchemists, said to be capable of turning base metals into precious ones (like gold and silver), can be used to derive an elixir of life, and was even thought to bring about spiritual revitalisation. And it symbolises perfection at its finest, enlightenment, and heavenly bliss.

And while researching this, I also noticed something rather interesting. It might end up not being relevant at all, but I discovered that a famous alchemist was named Albertus Magnus who was born some time before 1200 in the Duchy of Bavaria (the flag and coat of arms of which during the Wittelsbach dynasty sports a rather nice diamond pattern, a bit like the pattern you see within the triangle of the logo). He was a saint with a deep interest in a large variety of topics including logic, theology, botany, geography, astronomy, astrology, alchemy, mineralogy, zoology, physiology, phrenology, justice, law, etc. I recommend potentially checking out the wiki page on Albertus Magnus that I shared earlier if you are interested in knowing more, there is a lot of history there. But it’s interesting that he shares a surname with Jonah Magnus, founder of the Magnus Institute.

Conclusion:

Given all that I have managed to dig up about the symbols within the logo, and the indirectly connected links with suspiciously named historical figures, in particular with the context of there being another Bouchard within the Magnus Protocol, I can’t help but be suspicious of whatever this British civil service is actually getting up to behind the scenes. In particular what they think they might be trying to accomplish using the Fear Entities.

Of course at this point it becomes pure speculation. But I am more than happy to hear everyone’s ideas, speculation, and contributions!

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #the magnus archives #rusty quill #turns out asks don't show up in the tags how annoying #also I want to point out that I am by no means an expert on alchemy #I simply enjoy research #Share your theories though! It's fun to discuss that kind of stuff!

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 4 months

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Vante | Kim Taehyung

Summary: You favorite faceless artist Vante has an exhibit tonight and one of his close friends takes a special interest in you. Pairing: Artist Taehyung x Art Collector reader Word count: 2.3k a/n: This was supposed to be out for Tae's birthday and I failed miserably. But it's gonna be a two parter to make up for it so keep an eye out for that! (I also have a Jin fic but again I've failed miserably on getting it out on time) I wanted to post the first part to see how it's received and I'll decide when I'll put out a part two later. p.s barely edited because I just wanted to put it out asap lol

"You know that one artist you like is having a gallery show right?" my friend asks me. "Who? Vante?" I asks, my interest now peaked. "Who else would it be? You don't really mention any other artist to me by name. You just say 'Look at this new piece I bought' or whatever, but when it come's to him it's always 'I just found a new piece by Vante and I need to get my hands on it!' or something to that extent" she finishes, taking a sip of her mimosa.

"Didn't you already have enough to drink last night?" I ask, reminding her about how plastered she got at the benefit ball as she downs the rest of her fifth glass this morning. "Yes, but today is a new day love. What did you expect when you invited me out to brunch?" she teases, waving down one of the waiters to bring her another one.

I roll my eyes at her and continue on with my meal. "Anyways, about the gallery show, do you know where it is? I know his events tend to be exclusive so I haven't been able to get an invite before. Is it somewhere in the city?" I ask taking a sip of my drink. "Well what if I told you I already got you an invite?" she says, smiling over the rim of her glass.

"What do you mean you already got me an invite?" I ask in astonishment. "Are you the one who's drunk or am I? Yes I got you an invite!" she laughs at my growing excitement. "I love you so much girl thank you!" I say coming around the table and hugging her semi aggressively. "Okay okay now get off of me and order another drink for yourself if you really love me. You know I hate drinking alone" she says and waves the waiter over for me before I can protest.

~~~~

"So where's the show being held?" ask while we're waiting for the driver to pull the car around and instead of saying anything she hands me a luxe envelope with a wax seal and my name written across it in the most intricate font. "All the information you'll need is in there" she says and makes her way into the car leaving me mesmerized with it for a moment before she's calling after me to get in.

"I still don't understand why you're so obsessed with him though, is it the whole faceless thing?" she asks once the car makes it way onto the street. "In part yes, that's definitely got me intrigued but his art alone speaks for itself. There's just so much life in it and-" "Yeah yeah I've heard you fan girl about him enough. I don't even know why I asked" she says resting her head against the window. "The alcohol is catching up to you isn't it?" I say amused by her cheeky response. "Shhh why are you talking so loud?" she whines making me chuckle and lean back in my seat, enjoying the now peaceful drive back to my home.

~~~~~

Closing my front door behind me I walk over to my living room mindlessly and sit down on the couch all while inspecting the envelop before reaching for my letter opener as to not break the seal. Once opened I'm met with a soft beige letter again with my name written in the same font. I open it and read all of the information about it and I panic for a moment seeing that the show is tonight. "Of course she would wait until last minute to give me this" I say out loud to myself with a smile on my face, taking a deep breath and making my way over to my closet.

Once I've found an outfit that fits the theme of pale neutral colors I start getting ready to head out. Taking one last look at myself in the mirror I give myself a bit of a pep talk before leaving. "You've been to hundreds of shows like these before. There's no need to be nervous" I say, taking a deep breath and walking out before changing my mind.

~~~~

The atmosphere is calm and quite compared to the loud colors and designs splattered on some of his paintings. The abstract faces and bodies of the people he paints a stark contrast to the people who are wandering around the gallery also donning the color pallet specified on the invite. I guess this is another way to ensure that the paintings themselves are the ones that are grabbing peoples attention rather than the attire of the various attendees.

Taking a deep breath I wander around acting as casually as I can, trying to maintain my composure and keep my excitement at bay. Seeing all of his paintings up close is a new experience that I wasn't expecting. Seeing his art online verses being surrounded by it in person feels almost like a full circle moment. He's been an artist that I've been following closely for years now so it just feel right being here.

"Has this one caught your eye?" I hear a mans voice say from behind me, leaving me placing my hand over my heart in surprise. "My apologies, I didn't mean to frighten you" the deep baritone voice says now accompanied with owner by my side. "Oh no that's alright, I guess I just lost myself for a moment there" I say and take a glance at the man next to me.

He looks as though he's my age or a few years older with strong masculine features but still having a few soft ones to make him even most interesting to look at leaving me at a loss for words. Not so much as being nervous but more as seeing him as being somewhat of a living piece of art that somehow found it's way over to my little part of the world.

"You still haven't answered my question" he says playfully, turning to face me now. "I'm sorry?" I reply, embarrassed from being caught staring at him for too long. "The painting?" he questions nodding towards the piece in front of us. "Oh! Yes it's gorgeous! It's one that I haven't seen before and it just kind of pulled me in as soon as I laid eye on it" I say turning my attention back towards it.

"I love how he's steered clear of using a traditional canvas and has used glass instead. His usual pieces are usually full of color and chaos but I love how this one is almost stripped down but still has so much life and movement in it. It's almost as if you can see him painting it on the other side" I say tilting my head a bit and taking in the details a bit more.

"You see these little bumps right here and how they're almost a bit more textured than the rest, there are a few of those spots throughout it as well" he says leaning in a bit closer to point out a corner of it so I can see it more clearly. "Would you like to know the story behind this painting?" he asks and I eagerly nod, waiting with bated breath.

"So, he had been feeling a bit restless while he had been cleaning up his studio a bit and he had been washing his brushes and so he didn't really have much of anything to paint with and he had finally figured out what he wanted to paint of this sheet of glass in front of us today. So instead of waiting patiently for his proper tools to be back into commission he took a stale baguette from his kitchen, ripped it in half and used that as his brush instead" he chuckles and I can't help but laugh right along with him, taking note of his adorable laugh and boxy smile.

"That certainly sounds like something he might do but if you don't mind me asking, how did you find that out?" I ask, interested as to what this man's relation might be to Vante.

"Oh, I guess I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Taehyung, I work closely with Vante and help out in any way that I can to make these shows run smoothly. I'm also full of fun facts about all of the pieces in here so please don't hesitate to ask me anything" he says while motioning around to the rest of the gallery.

"Oh, I'm y/n, it's very nice to meet you!" I say and take his outstretched in greeting and he surprises me by kissing the back of my hand. "Likewise" he says with his breath still fanning against my skin. It sends a slight shiver up my spine at that, paired with the dark brown eyes of his that I find myself entranced with.

"Are you an art collector yourself?" he asks, walking with me to see all the rest of the pieces in the various exhibits. "I'm more of a beginner when it comes to collecting art and curating a collection but I do know that I always try to get my hands on any Vante piece I come across. I've been following his career for almost 6 years and I can't help but fall in love everything he creates" I gush while taking a closer look at another piece.

"You really are a true fan of his" he replies, gazing at me with admiration while my attention is pulled to a sculpture close by. "I mean I guess you could say that" I reply, getting shy at how excited I've been. It's as though I've reverted to having a childlike wonder when brought to a candy store for the first time.

"There's no need to be embarrassed, I like seeing how passionate you are about art. It reminds me of how Vante used to be when he first started out" he says and walks over to another piece with almost a melancholy smile. "Used to be?" I question trailing after him.

"He's been going through a bit of a slump lately and thought a show like this would bring him some sort of inspiration and motivation to continue and hopefully appreciate how far he's come" he says, glancing over at me. "Do you think it has? Is he here right now?" I ask, taking a glance around the room.

"Yes he's here and trust me, this show has done wonders for his creativity" he says smiling down at me before taking a glance around the room. I try to follow his line of sight to see if they land on anyone in particular but unfortunately he seems to catch me in the act. "You're quite the curious one now aren't you?" he chuckles, turning his attention back to me.

"Why do you say that?" I ask, feigning innocence. "You're trying to find Vante aren't you?" he says with a knowing smile. "Can you blame me? This mystery behind who he is and even his age are driving me crazy" I laugh and he laughs right along with me.

"Why don't you take a wild guess as to who he might be" he says and watches me as I take a gander around the gallery. "Mmmm, how about him" I ask, pointing at a man in his late 40s with a stocky build that is clearly wearing a toupee. "Very funny" he laughs and shakes his head.

"What? I'm taking a shot in the dark here" I say trying to stop myself from laughing again. "Well how about him?" I ask pointing to a younger man that seems to be in his early 20s dressed in a more casual but clean outfit, just barely matching the dress code. "That's a good guess but no that's not him. If you ask me it looks as though he's been dragged here by his mother" he points out a middle aged woman dragging him along so he won't wander off.

"Good point" I chuckle looking over at him as he continues to scan the gallery right along with me, never staying on one person for more than a few moments. "You probably wouldn't even tell me if I did guess right huh?" I say, seeing a devious smile flash across his face. "Nope" he says and walks over to another piece.

"Why even suggest the guessing game if you wouldn't tell me the answer?" I ask and start checking out what he's brought us over to. "Because I liked watching you guess" he says glancing over at me and I frown at him playfully. "Hey in exchange for not telling you who Vante is, why don't I show you the pieces that didn't make it into the show?" he suggests and starts walking towards a door thats labeled 'Employees Only'.

"Really? Are you sure this isn't against the rules or something?" I asks looking around to see if anyone is watching us, which thankfully no one is. "Of course it is. But don't worry, I'm famous for talking myself out of trouble, or into trouble depending on the situation" he says with a wink while holding the door open for me.

I take one last look around and see that again no one is paying us any mind. "After you my lady" he says and motions for me to walk in...

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11vr1 · 10 months

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Now hear me out here… Miles Earth 42 x F!Reader dancing Bachata🤭 Orrr something like they are at a party and a family friend decides to dance a rather romantic song with us so Miles gets jealous. So many different scenarios with Bachata and dancing I wouldn’t mind fluff either where like they dance in the living room or smth I just love Bachata and romantic dancing ♥️😊

-J

Eres Mía ⭒ Miles Morales

Synopsis › Miles gets jealous and a nearly gets into a fight, so he makes it up to you by teaching you bachata.

Pairing › Earth-42! Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

Inspo › Request.

Includes › ATSV SPOILERS, tooth rotting fluff, swearing, bad Spanish, jealousy, pet names, a tiny bit suggestive

P.S. › Thank you for this ask! I had so much fun. A nice change from the angst. <33

P.S.S. › I am now making a taglist!!! Lemme know if you wanna be on it. I also think I want to find mutuals and get more involved in the community…

When Miles asked Y/n to be his plus one, she almost couldn’t believe it. His delivery was cool and casual as if he didn’t invite her to a party with all of his family and closest family friends in attendance. They had become official a little over a month ago (though Miles swears it’s been longer), so the first family gathering was a big deal, a huge milestone most couples put off until much later. When she tried to explain to her boyfriend the significance of this event, he didn’t understand. “Don’t start stressin’. It’s jus’ my abuela’s birthday party,” she remembered him saying.

Abuela?

Abuela!

If his grandmother was anything like Rio Morales, Y/n would be walking into a lion’s den. Miles did nothing to placate her worries, making her do the exact thing he told her not to do: worry.

The weekend had arrived and so did the much anticipated birthday party. Y/n spent a considerable amount of time getting ready, choosing a tie front top with a cami underneath and satin skirt to combat the sweltering city heat. She double checked every angle in the mirror before leaving her apartment.

The corners of the gift envelope addressed in her elegant script were slightly bent from being clutched in her nervous hands all the way to Harlem. It was easy to find the building. Y/n simply followed the booming sound of music and laughter to the rooftop. The party was already in full swing. Half of New York showed up to celebrate Gloria Morales’ 70th birthday.

Y/n moved through the packed party-goers to the gift table, not seeing a single familiar face amongst them. She felt out of place. Does she introduce herself? Wait? Look for Miles? Certainly he wouldn’t leave her to brave his family alone. A tinge of panic settled in her stomach as she looked again.

“You lost, babygirl?” Y/n nearly jumped out of her skin hearing a strange voice beside her. The boy was taller than her and around her age or a little older. His feather duster of a mustache curved with his smirk as his leering eyes roved her head to toe slowly. Painfully slow.

She prickled, immediately raising her guard. “No, I’m just waiting for someone.” He glanced around, seeing everyone engrossed in their own conversations.

“I ain’ never seen you round here before. What’s your name?” Y/n hesitated to answer, but gave him a curt reply. “Thas cute. Real cute.” This was a party after all, the point was to mingle. And she didn’t want to seem rude. She had no idea who this guy was. He might’ve been a cousin, a family friend, someone who could easily say the wrong thing to the right person about her. “You know how to dance?” The night was starting to look very long.

Where was Miles?

⋆

Miles was very late. On his way, but late. His mother has surely noticed his absence by now. Abuela was definitely asking about him. And Y/n…she was probably already there. He cursed himself underneath his mask. That last job was pushing it. There was no time to go home, change, and take the subway like he originally planned. Luckily, he knew a shortcut through the skyscrapers and shadows of New York.

The window of his abuela’s apartment squeaked as it slid open. Miles rushed to shed his Prowler persona in the guest bedroom and stuff the suit in his bag. In a second, he appeared to be a normal teenage boy despite the forming bruises. He prepared himself to face the wrath of his mother, grandmother, and girlfriend. What he was not prepared for was seeing Y/n about to be pulled to the dance floor by another guy. They were close. Too close for his liking.

Something burned inside Miles, one he was reluctant to identify—jealousy. Dare he say doubt? He was new to the boyfriend thing. Sometimes he said the wrong thing, silent at the wrong times. But he tried. Was Y/n already fed up? There was no denying she was gorgeous. She could pull any guy she wanted.

He stalked closer, effortlessly weaving through the crowd. “Oh, come on! I’m not asking you to marry me. Just one song.” The guy tugged at her again. Miles recognized him. Eric and his family were friends, though Miles only endured his presence when they were forced to be in the same place. They’d never gotten along, finding each other to be a nuisance and a relationship beyond neutrality unnecessary. But that little understanding might just end right here, this was not about to fly on his watch.

“I told you I don’t want to dance,” Y/n separated herself out of his grip. The sheer expression of disgust on her amused Miles. She found him as annoying as he did.

Eric made the mistake of reaching towards her again. He had the chance to back off and it sounded like he had been warned more than once. This was not about to fly. Miles decided it was time to interfere. He swiftly placed himself at Y/n’s side, his footsteps soundless, a skill learned from his…side hobby. “La escuchaste, cabrón. Retrocede.” Venom laced his tone, an unspoken threat at the tip of his tongue. The air turned to ice around the three of them. You heard her, cabrón. Back off.

The confidence drained from Eric’s face. He knew good and well Miles was not to be messed with. There were rumors about him and his penchant for beating anyone who pissed him off into the ground. “Ella es tu chica, Morales?” He stepped up to him in a vain attempt to mask how intimidated he really was. Miles moved Y/n behind him. She watched the standoff silently, keeping a hand on Miles’ bicep in case it went south. She’s your girl, Morales?

Miles tilted his head, sneering down at the posturing fool. “Sí, ella es mía. Ahora déjala.” Yeah, she’s mine. Now leave her alone.

“No estaba tratando de hacer nada,” Eric scoffed. He turned his attention back to the pretty girl hidden behind Miles. “If you get tired of this asshole, come find me.” I wasn’t trying to do nothing.

Miles lunged, thankfully, with some supernatural girlfriend sense, Y/n was quicker and held him back. Eric flinched, his fear visible for that split second. Heads turned. “You need to calm down, Miles.” Her hand made its way into his, gently pulling him away. He backed away, never breaking his cold glare from Eric.

⋆

Together they left the party. Miles muttered curses in Spanish Y/n couldn’t catch as he stomped down the stairs. “Miles! Miles, baby, slow down!” She called his name again. “You not ‘bout to make me run after you in these shoes!” He stopped. His jaw was tight, eyebrows set low on his face, hands burrowed in his pockets to hide his balled up fists. Damn. Even seething he was gorgeous. “We talked about this. You gotta talk to me.”

He was silent for a few moments, he merely stared down at Y/n as she wrapped her arms around his middle. His heart pounded in his chest. (It was because of her. Miles refused to admit those lustrous eyes and her touch still had such an effect on him) “Ian like seein’ you wit him. Shit pissed me off. For a minute I thought…” She fixed his collar, avoiding his gaze to keep herself from smiling. “Nothin’.” Miles was jealous and willing to protect her by any means necessary.

Y/n heard the words left unspoken. Miles was a fortress locked up tight to keep the outside world out. But behind his many walls he was a boy with feelings and insecurities. “Miles, I’d never do that. I like you too much.”

“Yeah, I know, ma. Sorry for gettin’ all upset.”

“‘S fine. That’s not what I’m mad about.” She eyed the fresh bruises coloring his cheek and temple. “Where were you?” At this point, she was more concerned than angry. Miles wasn’t inclined to long conversations, but he was decent enough to send her a text. Although dry and vague it was something. Y/n would take what she could get.

Miles stiffened in her embrace. “I had to take care of some stuff. Don’t worry ‘bout it. Lemme make it up to you.”

“You owe me a dance.” Prying it out of him would get her nowhere. She decided to let it go. Just this once.

“A dance?” he asked. She grinned, happy to catch him off guard for once.

Y/n nodded. “Mrs. Morales told me you’re a wonderful dancer. Don’t be holdin’ out on me.”

His sigh was long and deep, directed towards the ceiling of the narrow hallway. Miles was in no place to refuse. He took her hand and started walking. “Alright, but we not goin’ to the roof.”

He led her to his grandma’s apartment. It was sizable and definitely decorated by an elderly woman. Y/n admired the photos sitting on the mantle. There was Rio and Jefferson Davis, dressed in white for their wedding day. She paused on a picture of an infant covered in paint, smiling from ear to ear with two teeth. She awed at Miles. He was so cute, so carefree without the shadows of the world dragging behind him.

“Ven aquí, mami.” He stood in the middle of the living room, hands outstretched, a song playing behind him from his phone. She peeked at the song as they joined hands. Come here, mami.

“Eres Mía” by Romeo Santos.

The song was unfamiliar to her. “What? You thought you was gonna to twerk and grind on me?” His low chuckle sent shivers through her. She didn’t answer. “Nah. We gon dance for real. Bachata.”

“Wait, Miles. I don’t how to—”

“Imma teach you. Two steps to the music. Thas all it is,” he showed her. Y/n mimicked him, each step hesitant and unsure, but Miles was encouraging and a surprisingly good teacher. “See? Easy.”

He raised his arms to spin her around and brought her closer. Y/n faltered. “Aye, come on, mami. I know you can move your hips better than that.” He repositioned, hands at her back and waist, his thigh between her legs, ruffling her skirt. Miles guided her across the floor, his fingers wandering to the trim of her cami, drawing a distracting trail of heat on her bare skin. Her own hands found their way to his nape, brushing his twin braids as they swayed to the beat. Soon she found her rhythm.

“There you go,” he praised, rolling his hips into hers. She followed. Her body trusted him. She trusted him wholeheartedly and fell into his lead.

They rocked together in silence, the song having long since ended. Miles nestled in the crook of her neck to breathe in the sweet scent of her perfume. “Thank you for helping me. I should have said so earlier,” Y/n said from above him.

“It’s my job, princesa.” Miles left the softness of her neck. “Eres mía.” You are mine. Y/n blinked while he returned to her warmth. She hoped he didn’t feel the way her temperature rose.

In three short months he made a place for himself in her life. He was the most unexpected surprise. She had a list of the ideal boyfriend and Miles Morales didn’t check off a single one. Yet everything never felt more perfect than in his arms, dancing to the distant sirens and traffic.

His phone buzzed from the end table. “Is that your mom?” He shrugged in response. “We should go.” Y/n suggested, but Miles’ grip only tightened.

“One more minute. They can wait.”

#iivri writes ˚·⊹ ⟢˖∿#iivri mail ·♡˖﹒ ₊˳#miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #miles morales #earth 42 miles fluff #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #miles g morales #miles morales prowler #prowler miles #atsv x you #astv miles #spider man: across the spider verse #miles spiderverse #fluff #marvel

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midnightstar-90 · 1 year

Text

Little Star

Evan 'Buck' Buckley x AFAB! Reader

Taglist | Request | Wattpad

Main Masterlist | 9-1-1 Masterlist

Requested by @icemansgirl1999: I would like to see a story of brand new dad buck or Eddie and reader (mom) had some complications after the birth and you can run with it how ever you Deem

Summary: Reader has trouble bonding with her and Buck's child.

Warnings: Mention of Breastfeeding, Language, Slight Slut Shaming, Small Season 5 Spoiler, Angst, Baby Fluff, Dad! Buck

A/N: Guys I do not have a child (I do have 4 siblings, and I am the oldest), and I have never had any children. I tried to steer clear of things that might be wrong, and I did do some research, but I mostly just tried to stay in the emotional range of things. So, if I said something wrong you could tell me, if you want (because I would love to know for next time) but please don’t get mad. I really tried my best.

P.S. If you see the name Harley, it was the original name for the couple’s child, but I thought Lana would work best. So…

Buck and Y/N were so happy when they learned Y/N was pregnant. The thoughts of their little "mini-me" ambushed their minds and became the focus of the last 9 months. They did everything a new parent would do before bringing their child into the world. They experimented with names, constantly argued over what the gender was, get excited over every photo of the ultrasound, and they even hosted a baby shower, inviting everyone they loved.

But it seemed that they were so caught up in all the fun stuff about being a parent that they didn't focus on the hardships of being a parent. Lana Buckley was born naturally at about a foot and a half tall and 8 lbs big. She was born perfectly healthy, and everything had seemed fine until Buck had to go back to work.

When Buck went back to work, it seemed like the child Y/N had birthed was a completely different person. Lana refused to eat, sleep, and she cried all day and night. But as soon as Buck got her in her arms, she was the sweet and calm baby the two knew.

This brought major discomfort to Y/N. She couldn't get near her child without her screaming. It made her ask herself, "Is it me?" When Buck would come home, Lana would fall asleep peacefully in his arms, and Y/N watched in despair.

One day, Buck had gone back to work. When Y/N woke up without her boyfriend in the bed next to her, she started her day. She cleaned the house and made breakfast before Lana's cries echoed through the apartment. Y/N walked back upstairs and grabbed her child before bringing her downstairs to make her a bottle. Y/N gently placed the bottle in Lana's mouth, hoping for the infant to gulp it down like she did for Buck, but it only made the baby cry louder.

"What? You don't want the bottle?" Y/N asked her daughter. When the child didn't respond, Y/N looked down at her chest and took a deep breath.

After getting Lana to eat, Lana didn't cry as much, but she still cried. Sure, if she was hungry or needed her diaper changed, she cried, but if Y/N placed her down to go pee, she would cry. If Y/N didn't give her enough attention because she was watching tv or random videos on her phone, she would cry. And worst of all was when she cried for no reason. It seemed like everything she did, made Lana cry.

Y/N had finally gotten Lana asleep after 3 hours of nonstop crying. She carefully bent down and placed the tiny infant into her crib, trying her best not to wake her. When she stood back up, she stretched her upper body with a soft groan and made her way to her bed where she softly plopped down and released an exhausted groan. She quietly prayed for Buck to come home soon since it seemed that he was the "Lana expert". But it seemed that her prayer wasn't answered as Lana began to cry again, and no one was home to put the infant back to sleep, except for her.

Y/N felt herself tear up as she lay face up in her bed. She stared up at the ceiling, listening to the wails of her daughter. Her failure to keep her daughter quiet made her begin to doubt herself as a mother. It was sad to think that after 9 months of excitement, she was now questioning her readiness to be a mother. That and her pounding headache from the noise and slight sleep deprivation brought the girl into a slight depression.

Y/N's thoughts were soon cut off by a loud knock from the front door. Lana had yet to stop crying, which made getting up to answer the door much harder. With a groan, Y/N sat up in her shared bed and rubbed the tiredness from her eyes. She shuffled her feet, across the wooden floors, over to Lana’s crib and picked up the infant.

A sharp pain spread through her body as she held the infant in her arms. She hadn’t completely recovered from giving birth, seeing as it hadn't even been a month yet, and because of Harley, she hadn’t had time to relax, leading to headaches and random bursts of pain in her back, legs, and arms. She was tired, to say the least, and found herself ready to kill to get some shut-eye.

Another knock erupted from the door. “Okay, I’m coming!” Y/N yelled over the screams of her child. With a tired sigh, she went down the steps and over to the door. Lana still cried in her arms, so Y/N began patting her back softly as she whispered calming noises into her ear. It helped the situation a little bit, by calming down the cries, but it didn't stop them. She opened the door to find none other than her mother waiting at the door with her dark-shaded sunglasses.

Y/N hadn't talked to her mother since she announced her pregnancy. Y/N grew up wealthy due to her father's family's long history of wealth. And her mom... Let's just say that the money was the reason she stayed. So, when her mother discovered that her daughter was to inherit her father's small fortune, her mother suddenly began to care for her well-being.

Her mother chased every man in Y/N's life away due to her obnoxious judging and rude comments. Y/M/N would claim that they were only with her for the money. So, when she announced her pregnancy, you know her mother wasn't happy.

But unlike her mother, Y/N didn't care about money. She loved Evan and didn't need his money to feel that way. And when her mother began harassing Buck, she knew it was time for her to go. So, Y/N cut her mother off, and much like the cockroach that she is, she was back. Probably broke up with her wealthy boyfriend and is in need of cash.

“Mom?” Y/N asked, surprised as she bounced a screaming Lana in her arms.

Her mother snatched off her shades and said, “Yes, it is me. After you rudely blocked me from your life, I became concerned. So, here I am to check up on you.” Y/N rolled her eyes at all the bull shit from her mother’s mouth. “I would have been here sooner if I knew my precious grand-baby was here already.” Y/N scoffed as her mother pushed past her and entered their apartment.

She walked over to the kitchen island, showing off a small gift bag that hung on her arm. "I brought gifts," Y/M/N said, placing the gift bag on the marble surface.

'Gifts?' Y/N asked herself. "Hmm, maybe she doesn't need money."

“Well, mom, to be honest, I didn’t think I could take 9 months of your kind words... I’m still not ready for them. And before you come in here, flaunting your unearned money, I think you owe Evan an apology.” I said, closing the door and walking into the kitchen.

“I don’t know what you mean. If this is about the last time, I was just trying to help,” she defensively said.

Y/N rolled my eyes and glared at her mother. “I don’t think that saying that Buck would be a terrible father and then telling me to tell him the baby wasn't his was very helpful,” She retorted.

“He wasn’t prepared to be a father, and he still isn't. He's a childish buffoon, and now it seems like he’s a deadbeat.”

“Buck is not a deadbeat. You know nothing about it,” Y/N spoke, defending Buck to her mother.

“Look around, Y/N. You are holding a newborn baby who hasn't stopped crying since you open the door. I mean, come on, sweetheart. You look terrible. Have you been getting any sleep? And where is Evan?” She asked, raising her eyebrow as she gave her daughter a stern look. Y/N scoffed at her mother's words.

“Buck is a good- no- a great father who works 24-hour shifts. He’s a firefighter, ma,” Y/N said, putting emphasis on the "great" part. She began to become frustrated with her mother as her judgmental side began to express itself.

“Now, why is that man working when he has a newborn baby and a sleep-deprived girlfriend at home?”

“Because unlike you, mother, we have bills. And there is no rich second party to pay for those bills,” Y/N said.

My mother’s eyes followed me as she said, “You have your father's money. Does Buck even know about your trust fund?"

"Yes, mom," Y/N said with an aggravated sigh. "He knows, and we both agreed that we're going to use that money to better Harley's life. But we're not going to quit our jobs for it. Buck is better than that. He's not you," She finished.

"Is that any way to talk to a guest- better yet- your mother?" Y/M/N asked, offended at her daughter's words.

Y/N's brain was trying to process all of her emotions, but it all overloaded her brain. Between the constant crying from Harley and the nagging from her mother, Y/N was fed up. "Hmm, let me think..." She began to act like she was thinking before answering her mother, "You're more like an unwanted guest. A party crasher. No one asked for you to be here, and I would love it if you left."

"What is the matter with you?" Y/M/N asked, now confused by her daughter's random outburst.

“My issue? You want to know what is wrong with me, mother? You’re what’s wrong with me. You treat me like shit, yet you have the nerve to put your two cents into my life. You’ve never cared about me. You only began to care when dad died and left me his fortune. In my opinion, you’re a gold-digging, 2-timing slut who can’t stand to see anyone but herself happy.” Y/N snapped, and suddenly, everything went quiet. No nagging from her mother. No screaming from her daughter. Y/N’s breath turned heavy as she let out all the pent-up tiredness and anger she had been feeling this last week, and the tears running down her face made her feel as if she was drowning in a pool of her own misfortune.

“I just wanted what’s best for you,” her mother said, releasing a tear to roll down her face. The way her mother spoke as if she cared made Y/N feel like her mother was blind to how her actions made her daughter feel. What her words did to her. Her life was like a broken record when she was around her mother, and she couldn't have that for her daughter. She never wanted Lana to feel the way she did, growing up.

“I think you should go,” Y/N whispered, laying Lana’s head down on her shoulder. Y/N's mother just stood there, wide-eyed with her mouth hung open.

The sound of keys entering the keyhole lock sounded in the kitchen as the door opened, revealing Evan. He walked in, confused, seeing his girlfriend upset with Lana in my arms, crying, and Y/N's mother standing across from her, shocked. “What’s going on?” Buck said, dropping his ‘LAFD’ duffel bag on the ground next to the door.

Y/M/N angrily grabbed her purse before giving her daughter one last look. “Nothing. I was just leaving,” she said, storming out of the apartment and slamming the door on her way out.

Buck looked at his girlfriend, and he pointed at the closed door. Y/N rolled her eyes and waved her mother's actions off as she began to make Lana a bottle. Buck came up behind her and kissed both Y/N's and Lana's foreheads. He then held Y/N as he slowly swayed the girls in his arms.

“Hey,” Buck said, turning her head to face him. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Whatever she told you is not true,” he said, pulling me into his chest.

“I don’t think I��m fit to be a mother,” Y/N mumbled into Buck’s shirt.

Buck's face scrunched up in confusion as he simply moved the girl away from his chest. With a finger, he moved her head up to face him. Buck scoffed and shook his head as he softly whispered, “Babe, what are you talking about? You’re an amazing mother.”

Y/N shook my head ‘no.' She didn't believe Buck's words. How could she? She only felt that way because of how Lana acted when he wasn't around. He wouldn't have any idea of what she was going through.

"Of course you are. You just need to sleep. Your hormones are regulating, and I know I haven't been home, but I'm here now. Let me take some things off your hands," Buck said, taking Lana out of Y/N's arms and into his. "Go take a nap, okay? I got this," Buck said, motioning to the upstairs area with his free hand.

Y/N knew that a nap wouldn't change how she felt about the situation, but she was tired from all the crying, so she did as Buck instructed and made her way upstairs.

Buck heard every sad sigh and sniffle from the girl as she walked up the steps. It hurt him to see how much pain Y/N was going through. He had seen how she was with Danny, Chris, and Jee. And that's how Buck knew she was a fantastic caregiver. He just needed to find some way to show her that she was still a good caregiver, but he didn't know how.

While Y/N got the rest she needed, Buck was downstairs taking care of Lana. He picked up the bottle that Y/N had made earlier, and he carefully placed it into Harley's mouth. Lana began to suck on the bottle. Buck chuckled as he watched the infant chug down the milk. "Yeah, you like that, huh?" He asked. And within 30 seconds, she was already a fourth done.

"Someone was hungry," Buck said as Lana began to slow down. Buck moved away from the kitchen and made his way into the living room with Lana still in his arms, sucking on her bottle. He looked down at his daughter, who stared up at him with her beautiful Y/E/C eyes as her small arms clutched the bottle. Buck couldn't help but see Y/N whenever he looked at his child.

He smiled as he studied the child's face. He began to notice that the baby had Y/N's smile and her nose that Buck loved to boop when they played around. His smile brightened as he noticed the mixture between his and Y/N's eyes. Lana had Buck's eye shape, but she carried the color that made Buck lose himself when he looked into Y/N's.

Like always, whenever Lana finished her bottle, she struggled to keep her eyes open. Buck removed the bottle, and her mouth opened wide as she let out a yawn. "Huh, I guess mommy wasn't the only one that's sleepy," Buck said before moving himself off the couch.

He made his way upstairs, with Lana on the brink of falling asleep. He walked over to Lana's crib before turning to look at his girlfriend. He looked at her with a sad smile before turning back to place a now sleep Lana into her crib.

"There you go," Buck whispered to the sleeping child. "Was that so bad? Why can't you do this for mommy?" He asked, earning no response, only the sound of soft snores. "You know your mommy loves you. She's just having a hard time. This is new for all of us. She's just taking it harder than everyone else."

Buck looked down at his daughter with a frown. He let out a sad sigh before making his way to the shower. But before anything, he made his way to his bed, leaning over, and placing a kiss on Y/N's temple.

The 118 sat back and relaxed while waiting for Bobby's special dinner. Bobby had put together a little celebratory dinner for the newest edition in the Buckley family, to which Chimney responded with, "Where was my celebratory dinner, Cap?" Everyone laughed at Chimney, thinking he was joking, but he was still a little hurt by it.

"No one thought that Buck would ever make it this far into a relationship," Hen joked, earning an eye roll from Buck.

While Bobby cooked, Eddie, Chimney, Hen, and Buck all sat together on the upper-level couches. They sat back and relaxed as the four of them joked around with each other and shared about their time away from work like they normally did during their free time.

"I don't know," Eddie said, looking down, in thought. "Chris and I have always been able to talk to each other, but now he's secretive. He doesn't tell me anything. We don't play together as much anymore. And not to mention, he's never home. Where does he even go?"

"Um, I think him and Y/N have been hanging together. Before she had the baby, I caught the two of them just hanging out together, but if it's recent, I don't know," Buck said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Ah," Eddie responded with a nod of his head.

"So, what's been going on with you, Buck-a-roo?" Chimney asked. Everyone turned to Buck, waiting for a response.

Buck shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what to say. Before answering Chimney, he thought for a second, "Y/N's been doubting being a mother."

Chimney looked around the firehouse. It seemed he was searching for something. "What are you doing?" Hen asked as everyone began to look up at Chimney with confused looks.

"I'm looking for a small infant that resembles a mixture of Buck and Y/N. I love your sister, Buck, but raising a baby while looking for the mother of your child can be stressful. Take it from the man who toured the country while documenting his daughter's firsts in different states," Chimney said.

"Y/N wouldn't do that," Buck paused. "She's just so stressed with everything, and it doesn't help that both Lana and her mother have been stressing her out lately. I came home the other day, and she was crying. Her mother had just left and Lana hadn't stopped crying until I got ahold of her. Not to mention, she looked like she was about to pass out. I love Y/N and I hate seeing her struggle. I know she's a good mother, but I just don't know how to show her," Buck said to his coworkers.

"Do you think Y/N and Lana have trouble bonding?" Eddie asked, leaning forward in his seat. Buck shrugged once more.

"Well, take it from me. When your child doesn't want to bond with you, it really does take a toll on you. And I understand that Chris is getting older, and that's what kids do when they get older, but Lana is dependent on you and Y/N, and for her to not want Y/N's help make be what's upsetting her," Eddie said.

"But how do I help them bond?"

"You seem to get along great with Lana. Give them some time together. Lana will one day realize that she needs her mother, and she'll allow her mother into her life," Hen said with a calming tone.

"Yeah, and if it gets too hard for her, guide her through it. You know what Lana likes. Instead of taking Lana from Y/N, suggest something that might help. But I have faith in Y/N," Chimney suggested.

Y/n walked into her apartment with Lana's car seat in one arm and groceries in the other. She struggled as she waddled to the kitchen, placing the car seat on the counter before setting the groceries on the floor. Y/N let out a sigh of relief as the release of the pressure took over her.

Lana began crying; luckily, it wasn't as loud as the other day. Y/N unbuckled Lana and pulled her up to her chest. She began to pat the baby's back as she tried to calm her down with some calming noises. But Lana didn't stop.

"Oh, no. Not again," Y/N muttered to herself, as she was now bouncing the child in her arms.

Just as Y/N was about to give up. Buck came back in from his run. "Hey, babe," Buck said, taking out his earbuds. Buck lightly jogged over to the two, kissing both of them on the head. "Why is it that whenever I come home, you're always crying?" Buck asked his daughter.

Instead of a response from Lana, Buck receives one from Y/N. "I don't know why she's crying. I fed her in the car. I changed her at the store. She's had a nap. I don't think she likes me, Buck," Y/N began to pout.

"She likes you. Crying is just a thing that babies do,” Buck said, trying to reassure his girlfriend. Y/N sighed, looking down. She didn't feel that the reason for Lana's constant crying was because it was natural. Sure, crying is natural for babies, but it felt like Lana never stops crying whenever the two are together, by themselves.

"I'm going to take a quick shower, and when I get out, we can make lunch and go for a walk or something," Buck said. He kissed Y/N's temple before he began to walk away. But he stopped when he heard Y/N begin to speak again. He turned around, looking at the girl as she spoke.

"But what am I supposed to do about her?" Y/N pouted as Lana cried against her chest.

Buck shrugged. "Try soothing her. You're a great singer. Try singing her a lullaby," Buck said as he made his way into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Y/N took a deep breath, looking down at her daughter, who seemed to be in distress, with worried eyes. She decided to take Buck's advice. She had also seen other mothers do it with their children when she was out in public. It seemed to work then, so why not now? "Shh... It's all going to be okay." Y/N rocked the baby as she whispered some calming words into her daughter's ear. Her words seemed to work since the girl had stopped crying.

Lana stared up at her mother, emotionless. Y/N smiled at her daughter as a soft tear rolled down her face. She was happy. She had finally made progress with her daughter. Lana began to coo in her ear, making Y/N laugh in excitement. Y/N slowly swayed the girl around in her arms as she hummed the words to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star. How I wonder what you are.

Y/N repeated it a couple more times before hearing a small laugh from the child in her arms. "You like that?" Y/N asked Lana as she laughed some more. Y/N sang it once more, but this time she danced around the room with Lana in her arms.

Unknowingly, Buck had been watching the whole thing from the bathroom. He had yet to get into the shower, but when he heard the harmonious sound of his girlfriend's voice, he couldn't help but see what was happening. So, he slowly cracked the door open, careful not to interrupt, and he watched.

Every time she sang the song with a smile, Buck's smile got even wider. His advice from his friends worked. He helped Y/N out, but he didn't take over. He just hoped that it could always be like this.

When Y/N was done singing, she began tickling the child earning bursts of loud laughter. Buck took this as a good sign and returned to his shower.

When he got out, Buck left the bathroom, dressed, and ready to go on a walk. He had on a grey tank top and black workout shorts. As he left the steamy room he was met with Y/N kneeling infront of a stroller, snapping Lana into it. Both wore jean shorts but Y/N wore a teal crop top, and Lana had on a pink shirt that read 'Princess' in gold letters and matching shades.

"Are you ready to go?" Y/N asked Lana in her baby voice. Lana laughed, making Y/N clap her hands as she copied her daughter's actions.

Buck cleared his throat, getting Y/N's attention. Y/N looked over at Buck with a slight jump, scared from not noticing Buck. She shyly looked away, embarrassed.

"So, you too made up?" Buck asked with a knowing smirk.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N responded, "Yes. In fact, you were right. Babies are known for crying; all she needed was to be soothed." Buck enjoyed the beaming smile on her face as she said that.

"Huh."

"Yep, I sang a little toon, and from then on, I hadn't heard a peep. We got dressed, and now, here we are," Y/N said happily.

"Well, that's good... Shall we get going?" Buck asked, pointing over to the door. Y/N nodded in response, getting up off the ground. Buck moved to grab the stroller, and the happy couple happily made their way out of the house with their newborn for a nice afternoon walk.

A/N: I am so sorry it took me so long to write this. I do plan on writing more often. I had a goal to publish this before school started back up again, but that didn't work out. So, my 2023 New Years' resolution is to get to the point where I publish at least 2 fics a week. Once again, I am so sorry. Please 🙏🏼 don't be mad.

If your user is in red, I could not find you. Please feel free to contact me if you'd like to be re-added or removed from my taglist. Taglist: @mrspeacem1nusone @girlnred @okiegirl24 @babypink224221 @iamasimpingh0e @Virginia @alexxavicry @kaitieskidmore1 @vanessaw05 @bellarkeselection @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @icemansgirl1999 @esposadomd @buckysmainhxe @sunwardsss

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emberfrostlovesloki · 4 months

Text

Lighthouse [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@happyheidi) Center (@agentdilfhotchner) Right (@theindividualchef)

Prompt: Hotch notices some distressing signs from the reader when he bumps into them at the grocery store. He doesn’t say anything, but something tells him that the reader isn’t well. He goes to their job and finds them just in time. Aka, when Aaron and the Non-BAU!reader get a chance to heal together.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Non-BAU!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns

Category: hurt/angst/comfort

Word Count: 8.9K

Content Warnings: Grief and loss, single fatherhood [Aaron], depression [Hotch and Reader], brief mention of kidnappings [unsub], domestic violence (fights, implied beating, yelling, chocking, kicking hitting, degrading comments (reader)], hospitals, broken bones. If I missed any please let me know.

A/N: Good evening, loves! He’s the first Aaron fic of 2024! It’s a bit dark but I tried to handle the subject matter with care. This idea came from @imagining-in-the-margins's amazing January/February Challenge Prompt list: “Character escapes an abusive relationship and the recovery is harder than they thought.” Given that Aaron went through abuse himself and has healed from many things, I wanted to think about how he would try and help someone else going through it too. I just love it when Hotch gets protective and puts someone in their place. I really enjoyed writing this story and I hope you enjoy reading it. If you do, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you’re all having a good week! Love Levi - ❤️

P.S. If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic violence or any kind of abuse, there are resources out there. Please speak to a loved one or trusted individual. If you need help you can contact The National Dometic Hotline at: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) or you can visit their website for resources. Please be safe.

List wil all stories

_y/n_ = your name

_l/n_ = your last name

_y/f/c_ = your favorite color

_y/p_ = your partners

_y/p/n_ = your partner’s name (as the partner is a real jerk, put some terrible person’s name here)

_y/s/hw_ = your style of handwriting (cursive, loopy, blocky, etc.)

_y/d/a_ = your dominant arm

_y/e/p_ = your ex-partner

Hotch was walking down the pharmacy aisle of the grocery store. He was looking for the children’s nausea medicine. He’d been looking for twenty minutes. Aaron wondered if they kept it in some other part of the store. Jack’s tummy ache still hadn’t gone away since the night before, and he considered if he should take Jack to his pediatrician. The issue was, that it was Saturday and the doctor's office was closed. Aaron knew he could be paranoid and that Jack probably just had a stomach bug, but he worried. He always worried about his son. Since Haley’s passing, Jack took up a majority of his free time and all of his thoughts when he wasn’t on a case. Adjusting to the grief and loneliness had been hard. Harder than he’d ever imagined, but time, as the saying went, heals all wounds. Even those unseen. Emotional wounds that needed sutures and tender care long after they’d healed. It wasn’t perfect or easy juggling being a single dad and work. It had taken a long time to figure out. But he’d leaned on people, and after a while, he started to feel like a version of himself again. One that still mourned the loss, and regretted his choices, but he was getting better. Jack was too. Except, this Friday Jack went to a party at a friend's house and caught some illness that was going around. Aaron was so busy trying to find the medicine that he didn’t see that he was about to bump into someone. When the two collided, _y/n_ flinched, but composed herself quickly. So quickly that the familiar man didn’t notice it. They both said in unison, “Sorry.” Aaron straightened and _y/n_ got off of her toes. The pair looked at each other and after a beat, realized they knew each other, at least a little bit. It took a moment for _y/n_ to say, “Oh, cold brew with a shot of espresso on the side. Aaron, right?” For _y/n_, most people she interacted with were associated with some sort of coffee or tea order. _y/n_ was surprised with herself that she’d remembered the tall man’s name. She’d never seen him dressed so casually before. He was just wearing jeans and a dark green t-shirt that accentuated the muscles of his toned torso. In the mornings at six a.m., that man that she thought was called Aaron, only wore a suit and tie. The kind that was tailored just for his tall frame. The expensive material didn’t reveal as much as this outfit did. Even so, he was very attractive. Often, seeing him at the counter was the highlight of _y/n_’s morning. _y/n_ knew that sounded pathetic, but hell the guy actually smiled at her before the sun was up, and he always tipped. Being a barista wasn’t the most exciting job, but at least _y/n_ got to see him on and off during the work week.

Aaron was desperately wracking his brains for the name of the woman who had memorized not only his coffee order but his name as well. Why couldn’t he remember it? Aaron could picture her name tag with the gold lettering embossed on the enamel pin, but the name was out of focus. Admitting defeat, he replied, “That’s me. And you are?” _y/n_ looked at Aaron and replied, “_y/n_, _l/n_.” She wasn’t disappointed that he didn’t remember her name. No one remembered her name. _y/p_ wouldn’t let her get close enough to anyone to need to remember her at all. _y/n_ told herself internally, “I’m used to it. It doesn’t hurt if you don’t care.” As much as _y/n_ wanted to believe that lie, she was hurting. Her body ached under her dark long-sleeved shirt. She hadn’t meant to make a snarky quip back at _y/p_ last night, but the remark had come unbridled, and she’d paid for it dearly. _y/n_ snapped back to the present as her most irregular, regular customer asked, “Were you trying to reach something on that top shelf? Can I grab it for you, _y/n_?” Something about the way he said her name, had _y/n_ look at him like she’d never seen Aaron before. Like she’d never seen a man before. Not one that oozed confidence even when he was just standing in a grocery store aisle. _y/n_ knew that _y/p_ would never live up to that standard, as hard as they tried, and as long as they lived. _y/n_ flinched at the very idea of the thought. The things _y/p_ would do to her if she ever thought or dared speak something like that in their partner’s presence. Aaron noticed the reflexive jerk of _y/n_’s body like she’d been hit by an invisible hand. He furrowed his brow and took a small step back. “_y/n_, are you alright?” Aaron knew that look and understood the flinching away from things. He’d done enough of it in his childhood. Suddenly, he was concerned about the woman that he saw when he was on his early morning caffeine runs. Hotch felt ashamed that he’d never paid _y/n_ much attention. However, he was paying attention now, as _y/n_ fixed her face back to normal. Back to a friendly smile that hid any physical or mental pain she might be in. _y/n_ didn’t notice Aaron profile her. Instead, she cleared her throat and said, “Yeah, um, could you grab three of those instant ice packs? The cheapest brand on the left?” Hotch nodded and didn’t even need to reach very high to grab the aforementioned items _y/n_ had requested. _y/n_ held out her basket, and he dropped them into the container. Aaron noticed but didn’t comment on the odd assortment of painkillers, gauze packs, and a single pregnancy test on the far right side of the basket. Aaron moved his eyes up quickly to not look like he was prying into her personal life. Sometimes being a profiler had its downsides, and situations where he could see things that didn’t look good were one of them. It’s not like he could just say, “Hey, _y/n_, why do you need those ice packs,” or “Hey. _y/n_ if you lifted your shirt sleeves what would I see?” He wasn’t a mandatory reporter. He wasn’t a professor, or a nurse, or a school counselor. He just had a brain that let him see things that others didn’t. Things that people like _y/n_ probably didn’t want him to see. Then again, he could be reading into the woman’s grocery choices a bit too much. He didn’t know her, at least not more than her name, and she worked at his favorite coffee shop that was closest to the Quanitco Field Office. He liked it because, on a good morning, it took him less than ten minutes to get from the coffee shop to work.

_y/n_ looked at cold-brew-and-a-shot-of-espresso. He seemed to have gone somewhere else in his brain. She didn’t plan on standing there forever, and had to say, “Well thanks, Aaron. I’ll see you…” she hesitated and finished the sentence with, “...when I see you.” _y/n_ gave the man a little wave and walked toward the self-checkout. Hotch replied, “See you Monday, _y/n_.” It was an odd interaction, to say the least. Aaron realized he’d said, “See you Monday” like a man who worked in a bank, or finance, or some mundane job that let him keep a regular schedule, when he had the opposite of that job. He could be called into the office that moment, and he’d go because that’s what he’d signed up for. Aaron’s phone buzzing made him fish it out of his back pocket and lose his current train of thought. The text was from Jess asking if he was headed back yet. He quickly replied, “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Just picking up the medicine now.” Hotch put his phone away and scanned the kid's medicine section once more. At the end of the row, he found what he was looking for. The child-friendly gummies, he hoped, would allow Jack to relax. Aaron and his son had stayed up most of the night as Jack threw up once an hour or so. Hotch felt the tiredness of the night, and his concern for Jack deep down. Those thoughts had him forget, at the moment, the worry he had for _y/n_. As Aaron was texting and recounting last night, _y/n_ was quickly scanning her items and placing them in a _y/f/c_ reusable bag. Once the receipt was spat out of the machine, she took it, crumpled it, and tossed it in the trash by the front door. If there was one thing _y/n_ was grateful for, it was the self-checkout. There wasn’t anyone there to judge you on what you bought, unless it was alcohol, and it was quiet and quick. She saw no one, and no one saw her. Except, today had been different because she had been seen. That was a rarity. Even if it had only been a minute-long conversation with Aaron. He was a customer who was gone for days in a row with no apparent rhyme or reason, yet always came back. Always at six, and always in a suit. He was part of the group that she called, before the morning rush. That’s probably why she remembered him so well. He was distinct and unique and by far the hottest guy who graced the crowd from six a.m. to seven a.m. After seven the people came like a mob and names, orders, and faces all blurred together until the mid-afternoon lull. As _y/n_ sat in her car thinking, she realized that she didn’t have time to daydream. Especially not about a guy. She looked at the clock in her car and realized that she’d spent more time in her thoughts than she’d anticipated. “Shit” _y/n_ muttered to herself, realizing that if she drove fast, she’d have just enough time to ice the worst of her bruises and discard the ice packs in the dumpster outside her apartment before _y/p_ came home from work to notice them. Given the time crunch, _y/n_ started the engine and whisked her car out of the parking lot as safely, and quickly as she could manage. Any thoughts of Aaron were temporarily replaced with thoughts of getting to ease the aches in her body for a few minutes before another fight inevitably broke out when _y/p_ got home from work.

As it turned out, Hotch didn’t show up to the coffee shop on Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday, and on Thursday it was another no show, _y/n_ really started wondering what the man did for work. She first thought was a lawyer. He looked the part with his clothes and his stern expression. There were plenty of law offices around the coffee shop, but she never saw him go into any of those buildings after he’d picked up his order from the counter. After he’d told her, “Have a good day,” and then walked out the door with long confidant strides while the bell rang. She considered the possibility of banking or finance, but from what _y/n_ knew, both of those jobs must require consistent hours in an office somewhere. But cold-brew-and-a-shot-of-espresso didn’t seem to keep any type of schedule, and he didn’t seem to be the type that worked in an office. Plus, all the bankers and finance bros she served every morning seemed glum and depressed. Aaron was intense, but he didn’t seem depressed. At least not anymore. The first time he’d come into the coffee shop she’d noticed him because he was new and it was early. He was the first customer of the day, and _y/n_ hadn’t even pulled the cold brew mix out of the fridge when he ordered one to go. As she’d explained that It would be a few minutes, and the tall man just nodded and said, “It’s fine. I can wait.” The man’s low voice sounded deeply sad. Like he was already dead and buried. It made _y/n_ look at him fully. He had a handsome face, all jaw, and dark hooded eyes. He looked like he sounded, far away. Internally _y/n_ wondered, “Is he going through something? Has this dude slept in the last month?” Both looked true from his slightly disheveled appearance and deep bags under his eyes. At this point, _y/n_ was happily in love with a person that she’d never guessed would lay a finger on her. A person who didn’t raise their voice, threaten them, cheat, or humiliate her in public. No. she was newly in love and everything was perfect. In fact, her partner had just agreed to move in with her last night. But the man in front of her, who’d said his name was Aaron, didn’t look any like she felt. _y/n_ wanted to ask him if he was okay, but it didn’t feel right. He was just a new customer and by now a small queue was forming behind him. So instead, she’d pulled a shot of espresso for him while he waited for his cold brew.

When Aaron heard his name, he walked over to the counter. Unless he was very behind on the coffee scene he didn’t think the small cup he was being handed was his. _y/n_ saw the look of confusion on his face, and she quickly explained, “Pulled you a shot on the house for making you wait. Hope it will tide you over.” Hotch left something in him that could be gratitude, and he murmured, “Thanks,” as he stepped back with the cup in his hands. It was the kindest thing _y/n_ could think to do for him while she took the next few orders and then started getting out the drinks including Aaron’s. Hotch had found the coffee spot because he had driven past it countless times since living in D.C. and commuting to Virginia. It had caught his eye early on because it seemed to be the only coffee place open that early. It had finally drawn him in when he wasn’t sure if he could live past the grief of losing Haley. Jack kept him going and that was enough, but he could admit he was struggling. He’d decided that doing something different, anything different, might do something for him. He wasn’t sure he could keep doing what he had been doing for the last two months. Even though he wasn’t much of an espresso person, he drank the free shot because it was nice of the barista to give it to him. Shortly after, he was given his cold brew, and he drove toward the office like he normally did. Not much changed for him in the day, except the addition of a lot of caffeine made his body feel like he was buzzing until noon. The sensation wasn’t unwelcome, at least it gave him something else to think about apart from loss. Aaron came back the next day and, just because, _y/n_ gave him another free shot of espresso. After a while, he started paying for the espresso, and as the months passed, he seemed to get better and _y/n_’s life got worse and worse and worse. _y/p_ had shown his full colors, and Aaron had worked on healing while _y/n_ began hurting. Their paths seemed to be like those of ships in the night. Their lights were never bright enough for the other to fully notice. That was until Friday.

Aaron had come back from a case in Arizona. It wasn’t the worst, It had been a stalker who kidnapped women who looked like the unsub’s mother due to abandonment issues. When the victims didn’t agree to play the part, the unsub wanted, they were replaced. Aaron moved into Dusk til Dawn like he always did. The bell rang as the door opened and he stood in the short line to get to the counter. He had almost forgotten about his interaction with _y/n_ at the store a little over a week ago. Jack had quickly recovered and then the case came, and time just went on like it always did, but as he caught _y/n_’s eye, he remembered. Not only did he remember her name now, but he remembered what he’d suspected she might be going through. When he got to the counter, she asked, “The usual?” Aaron nodded as he pulled out his card. He looked over at _y/n’s hands as she wrote his name on the two cups in _y/s/hw_. He noticed the slight bruising and scratches on her knuckles. The signs that something might have happened to her were minimal, but he caught them. Aaron was about to comment something, but as he put his card back in his wallet, _y/n_’s demeanor changed in an instant. The small smile and wide eyes she gave him whenever he came in disappeared. Hotch could almost feel the person behind him shuffle on heavy feet. Hotch stopped himself from looking behind him where _y/n_’s eyes were trained. _y/n_ barely murmured, “You’re order will be out in a second.” Aaron stepped a few feet back and listened from a spot far enough away that it didn’t seem like he was snooping, but also close enough to be able to listen in on the conversation happening at the counter. He crossed his hands over his chest. He could feel the slick material of his grey suit under his arms. He heard the person in front of the register say, “Hey. Good morning, sweetheart.” Hotch looked at _y/n_’s face. It was half reverence, half fear as she replied, “Morning. What are you doing here, _y/p/n_?” In a voice laced with love but a hint of bile _y/p_ said, “Can’t a person see their girlfriend in the morning? Plus I’m in desperate need of a coffee. Make it half soy, half oat milk latte with frothed milk, vanilla, and two pumps of sugar-free syrup. And a shot on the side.” _y/n_’s partner sounded more like an order than a command. Like shouting at a caged dog. _y/n_ knew why he needed coffee. He’d broken her carafe last night throwing it at her head. He’d accused her of cheating again because a friend from high school had checked in on her.

_y/n_ temporarily forgot all the other orders before _y/p_’s, and with a hurried, jerky movements. tried to make _y/p_’s order. If _y/p_ ever showed up to work, it meant she’d fucked up big time. Done something so big or bad that they had to come and see her before their work started, just to let her know that she was going to get it later. It was a promise. What she’d gone wrong since last night’s accusation and makeup session, _y/n_ wasn’t sure, but there was always something. y/n_ wasn’t paying attention to anything, and as she tried to steam the milk, she accidentally burned herself on the steamer. After a second, the pain circuits in her brain fired and she felt the burn, dropping the metal container holding the hot milk. The metal made a clanking sound on the floor, and a few patrons looked over at her. _y/n_ dipped behind the counter before anyone could notice the soft sob that left her. It was a cry of pain and fear. _y/n_ took the towel from her apron and wiped the floor first. She then fixed her face, got up, placed the dirty metal container in the sink, and remade the drink and espresso shot. It took her about twice as long as normal, but her hand was letting out red hot pulses every second or so. She wasn’t in the right head space to be making drinks at the moment. When the coffees were done, she moved back to the checkout where _y/p_ had firmly planted themself. In a sickeningly patronizing tone, they said, “Now that wasn’t that hard, was it _y/n_? God you always were a clutz. Anyhow, see you tonight, love.” _y/n_ raised a hand and said, “Tonight,” with a forced smile. Aaron watched as _y/p_ took one tiny swipe of her hand to rub under her eyes. The tears were too faint for him to see. _y/n_ then moved back to the cups that had piled up behind who Aaron assumed was her partner. A person who had just spoken to her in such a condescending and humiliating manner. _y/n_’s odd assortment of things at the store, the marks on her hands, and now this interaction only highlighted what Hotch assumptioned about _y/n_. When she eventually called his name for pick up, he approached the counter with care. Aaron grabbed his two cups and after _y/n_ said her normal, “Have a good day,” in a tight tone, he couldn’t help himself but say, “_y/n_ can I see your hand?” _y/n_ froze. She looked over at Aaron and pulled her injured hand to her chest with the other. Softly she replied, “It really doesn’t hurt.” Hotch could still see some of the red skin that looked painful. In the kindest tone he had, Aaron said, “It doesn’t look good, _y/n_. Do you have a first aid kit around here somewhere?” Hotch scanned behind the counter to see if there was a red box holding medical supplies nearby. _y/n_ hadn’t expected anyone to notice her hand. She especially didn’t expect it from Aaron. Without really thinking, she said, “There’s one in the staff room.” “Would you grab it for me?” Aaron asked. Much like the first time _y/n_ met Aaron, the tone of his voice had her look at him. The dark-eyed man looked concerned. It didn’t make sense. Neither did his tone. It came off as a caring suggestion. Something she hadn’t heard in a long time. _y/n_ was used to apathetic orders from her boss, Lisa, and _y/p_ disappointment in her everything. But care? She hadn’t heard or felt it in years. Aaron’s comment alone had her disoriented. To catch a moment to get back into balance, _y/n_ moved to the back room and took the first aid kit out of the cabinet. _y/n_ swallowed back whatever emotions were trying to force their way out before she stepped back into the main room.

_y/n_ set the red box on the counter. Aaron held out his hand for her hurt one, and to his surprise, she placed it in his large palm. After a moment of looking at the burn. It didn’t seem too bad, maybe a grade-two burn at worst. After his assessment, Hotch said, “You should run that under a cool tap for a minute. I’ll see if there’s some gauze in here to cover it up. As Hotch heard the water run and rifled through the first aid kit. He pulled out a large bandband-aid a generic antiseptic cream. _y/n_ returned in a moment, drying her hands. _y/n_ didn’t know how to react to this kindness and said, “Sorry I don’t mean to hold you up. You’re always so punctual. You’ve got to be late to wherever you go at this point.” She was giving him a way out. She was giving herself a way out because _y/n_ wasn’t sure how to be in this situation. How she would feel about Aaron if he helped her. Aaron looked at her. He saw the hesitation on her face and replied, “I won’t be late, and I’ll be quick here, I promise.” Aaron sensed that _y/n_ wanted this over with as soon as possible. It didn’t give him much time to think of something to check in with her. Hotch couldn’t delay and he didn’t want to make _y/n_ more uncomfortable, so he took _y/n_’s hand back into his. He squeezed a small dot of the cream on his finger and dabbed it onto her burn. _y/n_ flinched as he touched her more deliberately. Hotch finished that part swiftly and tore open the band-aid gently pressing it over the burn, securing it on her hand. He softly dropped her hand and closed the medical kit saying, “Good as new.” Aaron recognized that he was using the tone that he did with Jack when he came home from a play date with a scrape or bruise. _y/n_ took the kit off the counter and said, “Thanks for the help.” She sounded reserved and Hotch nodded, saying, “It was nothing. Have a good day, _y/n_.” With that, Hotch took his drinks again and moved out of the shop with a weight on his shoulders. _y/n_ watched him go and wished she could have a good day, but the threat of _y/p_ hung over her. _y/n_ also wished and tried to get Aaron’s concerned face and kind words out of her head, but she wasn’t very successful at that either.

Rossi noticed how perplexed Aaron seemed as he entered the building and moved up toward his office. The older profiler also clocked the two cups of coffee Hotch was precariously holding in one hand. Dave, who was at the railing at the top of the stairs asked Hotch as he got to the top, “You turning into Reid or something?” Aaron scoffed and replied, “I hope not. I’m too old from that kind of energy.” Rossi gave a half-smile before saying, “Well today it looks like you picked up more than a caffeine addiction.” Hotch didn’t understand and asked, “What do you mean?” Dave followed his friend to his office and said, “You look like you’re worried about something. Is Jack alright?” Hotch’s deep sigh told Rossi that he was correct. Something had happened. Aaron looked over at him with knowing eyes. Eyes that had seen too much pain and loss for one man. Hotch swallowed his sip of coffee before saying, “I just saw someone getting torn down. Put in a place I don’t think they deserve, and I didn’t know what to do about it. I’m the Chief of the BAU, one of the most revered branches in the FBI, and I see someone get hurt and I don’t know what to do about it.” Rossi leaned his arms on the desk chair opposite Aaron’s and slowly replied, “Aaron, you can’t save everyone from a bad situation.” Hotch bit the inside of his lip and replied, “But I want to. Am I losing my humanity?” Aaron often wondered after the death of Haley what he was becoming. He hoped it wasn’t something bad. Someone who didn’t care. Rossi watched this struggle and uncertainty play out on Hotch’s face and said, “I think this job can warp the way people working it see things. Pardon this reductionist analysis, but we go out and see countless victims and there’s a big bad to get and hold accountable. The scope of the evil we see is like a tsunami, and when we see a wave we don’t always know what to do. But a wave can still drown someone. That person’s no less deserving of a life jacket.” Rossi knew that he was making it sound like Aaron didn’t want to help whoever he was talking about, and knowing Aaron that was never the case. But Rossi wanted to provide some perspective before delving further into the conversation. Dave then said, “But Aaron, Not everyone knows they're drowning either. Maybe they don’t know to ask for a life jacket.” Dave was taking a guess here. He knew Hotch well enough that if this was a person Aaron knew well or personally, he would have done something already. So most likely this was a stranger or acquaintance that he’d encountered struggling, and Hotch, being the man he was, couldn't bear to see it happen. Rossi didn’t want to press Aaron. He wasn’t the type to go into detail, so Dave just stepped forward, patted him on the shoulder, and, said, “You’re a good man, Aaron, no matter what you believe, you’re a good man.” With that Rossi stood and walked to the door to let his friend decide what to do after that. And just to lighten the mood, Dave said at the door, “Don’t drink all that coffee at once. You’ll put yourself into cardiac arrest.”

Once Rossi was gone, Aaron moved behind his desk and sat down. He pulled out his briefcase and set to work on a floor-wide memo about a new policy on overtime. As he worked, he let Dave’s words churn in his head. By lunch, he’d decided that he’d go back to the coffee shop after work. No one had been a lifeline for him in his childhood and he wasn’t going to let it happen to someone else. Yes, he was aware that abuse happened all the time, all over the place and he couldn’t stop all of it. But he could let _y/n_ know that there were places she could go, and resources to her to get out. Something like that would have changed his life, and as it would turn out, Aaron’s willingness to step into a sensitive situation would save _y/n_’s.

Hotch moved back to Dawn til Dusk after work. Thankfully a case hadn’t pulled the team away. It was just after five thirty and the shop would close in a half hour. He’d never been there in the afternoon. The place took on a more subdued quality. There wasn’t the anxiety, the day was all ahead of me energy that the early morning held. As Aaron stepped inside, there was no one to greet him. Not _y/n_ with her smile that he’d grown used to when he stepped in the door or any customers either. For a second Aaron realized that he might be very silly because maybe _y/n_ didn’t work the afternoon shift and when someone came to out of the backroom or storage room, it would be a total stranger. Aaron assumed that whoever was still in the shop would come out of the staff room because the door stood ajar. He couldn’t see into the room, from where he was standing, but a loud thump had him snap his head to the side quickly. The sound hadn’t come from inside the room, but somewhere just beyond it. The same sound came again, and whatever it was, Aaron didn’t like it. Hotch moved to the side enough to see through the open door which led to another door with a window that looked out onto the alley behind the coffee shop. At first, it just looked like a small corridor that ran out to the street beyond the far side of the building. It seemed quiet until a body was pushed harshly to the ground and into Aaron’s view. Hotch realized that it was _y/n_ from her outfit from that morning. In a split second, Hotch was running through the backroom and out the door as the person who had stood behind him this morning came into view and began viciously kicking _y/n_ in the side.

_y/n_ curled into a ball on the pavement, choking for air. When _y/p_ came back again on the same day and said they needed to talk, she tried to swallow any fear she had. _y/n_ said they could talk in the back room, but _y/p_ insisted they go outside. That had been her fatal flaw. She didn’t know how to say no to them anymore and even though she was still on the clock, she’d let him into the small space behind the shop. Once the door was closed, _y/p_ had pounced. They pinned _y/n_ against the wall, choking her with such force that she couldn’t get a word out. When _y/n_ was sure she’d pass out from the lack of oxygen, _y/p_ threw her to the ground so hard she felt stunned. When _y/n_ had come to her senses, she tried to crawl away from the pain in her body and the threat of passing out. She still hadn’t fully regained her breath and the sides of her vision blurred at the edges. _y/p_ didn’t let _y/n_ crawl more than a few paces before grabbing her shirt and dragging her toward the dumpster on the opposite wall of the alley. _y/n_ groaned as the pain tore up her body. _y/n_ could feel her shirt riding up due to the rough surface of the concrete. _y/p_ tried for the first time to fight back. To get away, but _y/p_ pushed _y/n_ up to the edge of the dumpster and kicked her in the groin. They crouched down while _y/n_ covered her face and neck. _y/n_ said, “Did you think you could get on birth control and I wouldn’t know. Did you think I wouldn’t know?” _y/n_ shook her head and attempted to explain, but _y/n_ stopped trying when she gasped in pain. _y/n_ had pinner _y/d/a_ under a thick steel boot. The sickening crack that came shortly after had _y/n_ turn to the side and vomit in pain. When she looked up at _y/p_’s face, she knew this was how it was going to end. For some fucking pills. _y/p_ moved in again, pressing their hands to _y/n_ neck, cutting off the air she needed; _y/n_ spluttered fighting for life.However, the pressure was suddenly gone from her arm, neck, and everywhere else. Nothing was making much sense in _y/n_’s pounding head. She could only focus on trying to breathe.

It took Aaron five long strides to get outside and reach _y/n_ and her assailant. Hotch grabbed _y/p_ around the middle and pulled them off _y/n_. Hotch rolled with the person who trashed and screamed, “Let GO OF ME. Get off me.” Hotch grunted and tried to hold the person still. He found it ironic that _y/n_ was so against being manhandled with what he’d just done to _y/n_. From the anger, the person beneath Hotch showed, Aaron assumed it wasn’t the first time it had been this bad. Rage like that just didn’t start from nowhere, It grew and grew until it became uncontrollable. Aaron knew monsters were bred not born. Hotch caught his breath and said, “Stay still for your own sake. Move and I’ll knock your light out.” _y/p_ spat and said, It’s none of your business.” Aaron tightened his hold and said, “As a federal agent when I see someone get assaulted it suddenly is my business.” _y/n_ stilled for a second but then tried to use all their strength to shove Aaron away. Hotch rocked back on his hip and _y/p_ swung at him. Aaron took the brunt of the blow in his sternum. As big as _y/n_’s partner was, the hit wasn’t strong. It hardly hurt. Hotch was done. He had no place of remorse for abusers and he, unlike the person struggling below him, aimed one solid punch at the dude’s face. Maybe _y/n_ wasn’t fully out, but they were stunned enough to slump back on the ground with a groan. Hotch let them go and moved over to _y/n_ who was coming back to herself. Aaron dropped down on his knees next to _y/n_. The lower half of her body was in a murky puddle at the foot of the dumpster and their upper body leaned against the refuse bin. Aaron didn’t notice as his favorite trousers got soaked in the same murky puddle. He pulled out his phone and dialed 9-1-1. The operator answered asking, “9-1-1, what is the nature of your emergency?” Aaron cleared his throat and replied, “There’s been an attack on Maddison and Smith. Fourth block down from the stop sign. At the back of Dawn til Dusk. I need medical and police services.” Hotch heard the operator typing in the information before asking, “Are you or anyone in immediate danger? Are you the one that was attacked?” Hotch replied quickly, “No, it was someone else.” He took a second to see that _y/n_’s partner was still out of it and added, “There’s no immediate danger.” The woman on the other end of the line said, “Thank you for the information. Can you provide your name and phone number?” At this stage, Hotch was multitasking. He was carefully looking over _y/n_ who was starting to stir. He held a hand up to still her movements and turned his head toward the phone on the ground saying, “Agent Aaron Hotchner, the number’s 982-289-7765.” After a second, the woman on the phone said, “Thank you, Agent Hotchner, please stay on the line, medical and police services are on their way.” Hotch nodded minutely and when he looked back at _y/n_, she was staring at him with wide eyes. She had registered who he was now and heard his conversation in the back part of her head that wasn't screaming in pain. _y/n_ whispered, “Where’s _y/n_?” The weak attempt at speaking had her cough harshly into her chest, and Aaron leaned closer saying, “Don’t worry about them, _y/n_. Just stay still and try and relax. If you can take small breaths, it might help.” _y/n_ nodded and tried to do as he said.

_y/n_ watched as Aaron pulled out another phone and called someone else. She thought she heard the name, Morgan somewhere and the name of the shop, but for a man of Aaron’s stature and power, he spoke with surprising softness. As she had seen Hotch take down _y/p_ there seemed to be an anger she hadn’t imagined she’d ever see from him. But now he just looked worried for her. Like he had looked worried at the store. His emotions had turned on a dime. She was used to that with _y/p_. But that was from a constant disappointment to a visceral rage. Aaron’s were different. His seemed to shift from anger to firm protection. _y/n_ didn’t know what to make of it. Didn’t know what to make of her life anymore. She hadn’t expected to live a few minutes ago and now time stretched out before her like nothing she’d ever seen before. It was beautiful and horrifying at the same time. _y/n_ couldn’t think about that though. Not now. Instead, she just did as the man beside her suggested, relax and breathe. That was managable at least. Hotch stayed by her, checking every minute or so to make sure _y/p_ stayed put. Aaron hadn’t even put fifty percent of his strength into his punch, but the slumped body on the ground didn’t move. At least until the police showed up five minutes later and hauled them into a cruiser. _y/n_ suddenly got their energy back and bellowed that they had been attacked by Aaron. _y/n_’s bloody face and broken arm plus Hotch’s badge and account of the story had the officers removed _y/p_ from the scene shortly after. The paramedics showed up at the same time as the officers and started to treat _y/n_. Hotch gave his side of things and tried to listen in on _y/n_’s conversation at the same time. The EMT finished his assessment and asked, “Is your vision blurred? How’s your breathing?” _y/n_ softly replied, “I can see okay. My neck hurts, but I can breathe okay. But my arm, it really, really hurts.” The EMT nodded and said, “It looks like it’s broken. My colleague is going to bring the stretcher around the building now. Once you’re in the ambulance we can get you some pain medication, okay?” _y/n_ nodded and the paramedic asked one last question, “Is there someone we can call for you? A family member or friend?” Hotch watched as _y/n_ shook her head no. She looked incredibly sad and lonely in the moment and it pulled at his insides so much they ached because he knew exactly what that felt like. To feel alone in the world. Hotch stepped forward and said, “I’ll stay with her. Which hospital are you taking her to?” The EMT stood and made room for the gurney along with Aaron. The man replied, “Grand Gen on 45th.” Hotch nodded and watched as _y/n_ got loaded onto the stretcher. As she was taken toward the ambulance Aaron walked beside her and said, “I’ll be at the hospital okay. If you need anything just ask for me, alright?” _y/n_ gave a small nod, thankful that anyone was going to be there for her.

Aaron spent the next few hours talking to the police and waiting in the hospital for an update. _y/n_ called him in before the doctor came to tell her what was wrong with her. _y/n_ even though she didn’t know the man who had saved her well, was the closest thing she had to a friend in town, and she didn’t want to be alone when she found out the extent of all what was wrong with her. Doctor James was compassionate as he detailed her minor concussion, broken arm, and deep bruises on her body. He detailed a care plan and her need for at least a week of rest. _y/n_ looked at the medical professional and asked, “Can I work after that?” James pursed his lips and replied, “I wouldn’t recommend it. You’ll need to come in for a check-up next week and we can talk about that then. But for now, I need you to rest.” _y/n_ mouthed okay, trying to think about how to tell Lisa that she wasn’t going to be at work for probably over a week. Lisa had fired much of the staff last year and was a chronic, didn’t show up to work even though she owned the coffee shop. _y/n_ had ended up picking up the slack. The doctor looked over _y/n_’s chart and wrote down the pain medications he was going to prescribe her. He looked up from the clipboard and said, “I’ll schedule your release for an hour. I just want to ensure you’re not confused or don’t have any reactions to the medications we gave you. There are some pretty strong ones and not everyone’s body takes to them well. It’s not safe for you to drive, so you’ll need to call someone to get you. Does anyone come to mind?” No one came to mind. If anything came up, she always called _y/p_, but she wouldn’t be doing that anymore. The realization seemed overwhelming. Everything in her life felt overwhelming right now. Hotch stepped forward and said gently, “I can take you home, _y/n_. If you’re comfortable with that. Or I can get you a cab?” _y/n_ looked over to him and said, “You’d do that?” Hotch nodded and reassuringly replied, “Yes. Of course.” Hearing someone so vulnerable sound so desperate only made Aaron want to look out for _y/n_ more. The doctor derailed that train of thought and said, “Well good. Can you go and speak to the charge nurse at the counter, just so we have your information?” Aaron nodded and moved out of the room. After he’d provided the details the hospital needed, he got a call from Morgan. Hotch answered, “Derek, what do you have?” Morgan replied, “I asked Garcia to look up the dude, they have a record as long as my arm. Assault and battery, resisting arrest, DUI’s. After this, I don’t think they’ll be bothering anyone for a while. It was still a bad situation. The cops told me about the details. How’d you know it was going to happen.” Aaron sighed and replied, “I didn’t really. I had my assumptions but it was just a gut feeling I guess.” Derek hummed and said, “Well it’s good you were there. Things could have gone differently.” That was true, but it didn’t stop Aaron from wishing he’d noticed earlier. After asking Morgan to have Rossi pick Jack up from school and watch after his son for a few hours, Aaron ended the call. Around fifty minutes later, _y/n_ was released and Aaron pulled his car up to the front of the hospital. A nurse helped her into the driver’s side of his car. It was an awkward ride as he asked her for her address and he plugged it into his phone. As Aaron drove there was a silence that neither knew how to fill.

_y/n_ didn’t know how to thank Aaron for saving her life when, up until that afternoon, he’d only been someone to make her mornings a little brighter. And Aaron didn’t know how to comfort a woman who had helped him heal in a small way many months ago. Finally, Aaron just said, “I’m sorry, _y/n_” while keeping his eyes on the road. _y/n_ looked over at him not understanding. She replied, “Why are you sorry, Aaron? You saved my life today, spent four hours in a hospital, and are using your car to take me home. You don’t even know me and you’re doing all of this” Hotch shifted his eyes to _y/n_ and back to the road as he said, “But I saw you. What was happening a few weeks back and I didn’t say anything. I didn’t ask if you needed help. It’s my job to help people. To keep them safe, and I didn’t do that.” _y/n_ pulled her bottom lip into her mouth for a second before responding. When she found out that Aaron was in the FBI while he was speaking to the police, things seemed to make more sense about him. But _y/n_ didn’t understand why he felt bad. She said, “Aaron, lots of people saw. You’re the first person to have ever done anything about it, and it saved my life. I won’t ever be able to pay you back for that, or the kindness you showed me every morning you come in.” _y/n_ stopped herself from saying that he’d given her something to live for. But seeing him slowly get happier had kept her going over the long months when things had gone from bad to worse. She knew that at least one person wasn’t suffering anymore. Hotch’s soft response of, “You don’t have to thank me, ever.” The conversation stopped there as they reached _y/n_’s apartment. Hotch pulled out his card and scribbled his number on the back saying, “Call or text me if you need anything.” _y/n_ nodded, took the card, and slowly walked to her door to enter an empty home.

_y/n_ hadn’t expected to need to call Aaron Hotchner. But she also hadn’t expected it to be so hard to be alone, to wake in cold sweats every morning. She didn’t think showering alone would be as hard even though showering with _y/e/p_ always ended in fights. _y/n_ knew she had to talk to someone, and the only someone she could think of had been Aaron. So she called him on a Thursday night and he’d picked up on the first ring with, “This is Hotchner.” _y/n_ wasn’t even sure what she was going to say, but finally choked out, “Umm, this is _y/n_, _l/n_, from last week.” There was a pause as Aaron’s synapses fired and he said, “Yes, _y/n_. Is something the matter? Do you need something?” The was a soft shuffling sound on _y/n_ side before she replied, “Kind of. Can we, talk sometime? If you have time?” Hotch blinked a few times before saying, “Sure. Do you want to talk now or later?” _y/n_ who half hadn’t expected Aaron to pick up and fully wasn’t sure what she even wanted to say, said, “Later. Maybe Saturday?” Hotch agreed and said, “Saturday works. I’ll have to bring my son. Would meeting at a park be okay? Jack, my boy could play and we’d have an hour to talk?” _y/n_ hadn’t known Hotch was a father. “Of course, you don’t idiot. You formally met him last week. Can you read minds now or something?” _y/n_ pinched the bridge of her nose and stifled a sigh at her thoughts. Instead, she said, “That works for me. Is there a time and a park that works for you?” They made their meeting plan, and when _y/n_ hung up, she felt oddly comforted that Aaron was a father. The role fit him in some way that she couldn’t fully understand yet.

That Saturday at Lincoln Grove Park, _y/n_ and Hotch leaned against the rail. _y/n_ looked at the flock of kids on the playground and asked, “Which one is your son?” Hotch smiled and pointed out Jack saying, “The one in the grey beanie and Power Rangers shirt.” _y/n_ spotted the little boy going down the slide and smiled saying, “He’s cute.” Aaron smiled and said, “As his father, I have to agree.” He took a breath and moved his gaze from his son to _y/n_. She looked at him as he asked, “What’s the matter, _y/n_? Are you okay?” Hotch realized that he could have, should have said those words to her when he’d helped her at the store, but it was too late for that now. All he could do was ask them in the present, and be there for whatever answer _y/n_ gave. _y/n_ had considered this question beforehand and replied, “After the first day I thought it was going to be easy. I thought I was going to be happy and want to do things and live life again.” _y/n_ hesitated and Aaron’s eyes softened. He’d seen and experienced enough trauma to know how hard that sudden kind of change was. You didn’t just go from sad to happy overnight, or scared to empowered either. He gave _y/n_ space to finish he thought, and after a moment she did, saying, “But when I wake up and the other side of the bed is empty, I panic. I wonder where _y/e/p_ is and how the fight is to be once it comes. And when I go to the store, I get the things they liked because I liked them too. _ye//p_’s still everywhere even though they’re sitting in a jail cell right now.” It all sounded pathetic to _y/n_ and she continued, “Am I an idiot for falling for someone like that? I really thought they loved me until they hurt me. And at that point, I loved them too much to see past it.” Feeling ashamed, _y/n_ put her head in her hands, not even sure why she was saying this stuff to Aaron. Hotch took a step forward and said her name, soft and melodically. _y/n_ raised her head and he could see the tears forming in her eyes. He put a hand on her shoulder and replied, “You’re not stupid, _y/n_. Some people are just good fakes. They let you see what you want until you think you know them. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with them. Good people don’t have to hide what they are.” Aaron took a pause and felt _y/n_ lean into his touch a bit. He wondered when the last time was that _y/n_ had been offered comfort without it coming at a price. Hotch chose his next words carefully, as he said, “I can’t speak for you _y/n_. But I’ve felt a lot of pain before. Some I didn’t think I was going to make it through. But in time, things got better for me. Small things changed first, and then bigger and bigger things. And finally, I felt like I could breathe again. Like I was a human deserving of love. I had to work for it, but it was worth it. I hope you can find that too, _y/n_. I’d be happy to be there for you if you want to try.” _y/n_’s tears were falling now, and she nodded her head yes. For the first time since she’d been free of _y/e/p_, she wanted to try.

As _y/n_ and Aaron stood at the edge of the playground, talking and finally getting to know each other after months of almost being friends, it seemed that perhaps they weren't destined to move past each other without ever knowing the other existed. Perhaps they had both been lighthouses on opposite shores trying to save strangers, but now their warm beams were fully on each other. Shining the way to safe passage. And when Aaron saw the hint of a real smile, not one masked by pain or fear on _y/n_’s face, he thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

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