#people are nice to me and all of that and i like going out and talking to people
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SOFT LAUNCH
A/N: luckily i actually wrote this concept for once lol
WORD COUNT: 2k
SUMMARY: You officially soft launch your relationship.
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Your usual barely changed when your relationship with Harry moved from a friendship to a romantic relationship. Well, at least your public usual.
Because in the privacy of your home or when around you it’s strictly the people you trust, a lot changed. The kisses, the touches, the looks, it’s obvious just how hard you fell in love with each other and your friends often tease the two of you for being great actors for hiding all of these the moment you step out into the public. Very early into your relationship the two of you agreed to keep it as private as possible, so the world didn’t see a single thing of how you eased from being friends into becoming a couple.
Spotting you out and about together wasn’t a new thing, you’d been friends for a while before you finally took everything down another road, there were plenty of pictures of the two of you grabbing lunch or coffee, hanging out with friends or even attending events. The moment you were spotted for the first time rumors started spreading that you might be an item, but with time they died down and back then, they weren’t true. But what people didn’t see was the shift that happened behind all those simply friendly pictures, how you both fell for each other and your love blossomed steadily and undeniably behind the scenes while everyone else started to accept that you are nothing more than good friends.
There were photos, still, but what the tabloids didn’t see was the kiss you shared the moment you were behind closed doors.
It’s been over ten months and you’re definitely over that first phase where all you can see is the pink clouds, no one around you is questioning if this is just a fling, it’s quite clear you are planning your future together.
There is a downside of keeping your relationship in the shadows however, a kind of freedom is taken away that’s given for everyone else. Date nights have been restricted to your or Harry’s place, if you wanted to go out somewhere you always needed extra people around you so it wouldn’t look romantic. You haven’t been able to go on a vacation, just the two of you, because it would draw suspicion, so it’s been always with others, friends and family. You can’t set your favorite photo of him as your lockscreen, because fans are always quick to spot him in the tiniest details.
It’s not that you want to post about him day and night, that’s not your style, never was, you like to keep things private, it might be selfishness or consciousness, doesn’t matter. But some days it would be nice to hold his hand as you walk down the street, share a reassuring kiss as you wait in line at the coffee shop or share a photo to your Instagram that features him and only him.
So it’s been lingering in the back of your head, the thought of being just the tiniest bit more public, allowing yourself to enjoy your love outside of the comfort of your home.
This is what your mind is racing about as you watch Harry move around the room. The warm Italian sun is peeking through the curtains, calling your name for another wonderful day, exploring Rome. The white, rippled sheets are snaked around your body comfortably, the other half of the bed is still warm from his body. You’re currently residing in a villa that’s hidden enough from curious eyes to let you be yourself even in the backyard, not just inside.
You mindlessly scroll through your photos from yesterday while Harry is showering and when he appears with a towel wrapped around his hips, hair still damp, water drops running down his chest as he is scratching his jawline and you already know what his question will be. He stops at the end of the bed and opens his mouth, but you’re quicker.
“Do you think I should shave it?” you ask, imitating his voice by lowering yours. He gives you a cheeky look.
“Well, should I?”
“Told you, I love you both ways.”
“Okay, but you surely have a preference,” he pushes.
Sighing, you sink deeper into the pillow, keeping eye contact with him.
“The stache is… always more than welcomed.”
He chuckles and then walks back in. When he emerges a minute later he is dressed and his facial hair is still the same.
“Up, up! We have a lot to see today!” He reaches under the covers and easily finds your leg, wrapping his hand around your ankle he tugs on you gently, to which you just grunt at him disapprovingly.
“Just five more minutes!”
“Come on, don’t you want to explore more?”
“Yeah, but I also want to sleep more.”
“Think of all the pasta and pizza we could be eating right now…” He barely even finishes, you’re already jumping out of bed, sprinting towards the bathroom. Harry just chuckles.
A couple of hours later your little group is grazing the streets of Rome again. You haven’t planned anything major for today, just exploring and having a relaxing time. To be honest, your feet are thankful for a slower day, you feel like you’ve walked around the world these past couple of days.
Sometime after lunch, your group breaks up. Some want to go souvenir shopping, others want to go back to the villa while you and Harry plan to check out a hidden little park you read about online. So now it’s just the two of you strolling down the streets and as you listen to Harry talk, all you can think about is how your hands are hanging by your sides, sometimes even brush against each other, but you can’t hold his.
When you find a great spot with amazing view of the city you instantly want to take a picture together, one where Harry is hugging you from behind, the panoramic view of the city in the background, you can already see the picture in your mind and you also think of a place in your home where it would look amazing framed.
But you know you can’t take a photo like that, you can sense how a few girls recognized the two of you, now they are a few feet away, pretending like they are just casually taking videos, but you know they are recording you and Harry, so you can’t risk it.
Instead, you both just take pictures of each other, staying as friendly as possible. Your phone is still in your hand when the girls come up to Harry at last, starting a chit chat with him and asking for photos that you end up taking of them of course. They thank his time politely and the two of you move on.
When you’re lying in bed at the end of the day you’re scrolling through your gallery, smiling to yourself at some of the candid pictures you’ve snapped of Harry today. These are your favorite, when he is just being himself and you catch a glimpse of his true essence, keeping it forever in that frame.
Then you find a photo you took probably accidentally when the girls approached you earlier. You must have snapped it when you were putting away your phone, it features Harry standing on the cobblestone, but only his feet and his tattooed arm is shown, his skin is a warm tanned color from being out in the Sun so much lately, his tattoos look so cool, you always loved the edge they give him. It’s also such a candid picture and for some reason you just love it so much, it’s exactly the kind of photo you’d post on your Instagram story.
The door to the bedroom opens and Harry walks in with two bottles of water in his hands, he places one to your nightstand before he joins you in bed, opening his.
“Why are you staring at a photo of my… arm?” he asks with a chuckle, when he sees what you have open on your screen.
“You have a nice arm,” you grin up at him. “I just… like this photo,” you add with a shrug.
Harry hums, but doesn’t really get stuck on the topic. He turns his attention to his own phone, sneaking one arm under your head, pulling you closer to cuddle him. But you’re still stuck on the photo and all the feelings and thoughts you’ve been struggling with.
“H?” you finally lift your head to look at him.
“Yes baby?”
“Have you ever thought of… being a bit more public? About us?”
He locks his phone and puts it aside to give you his undivided attention. He never fails to make you feel like his number one priority.
“I have, yeah.”
“And what do you think if we just… went for it? What if we just stopped hiding.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I just… I would love to act like a couple more, not just when we’re alone, behind closed doors. I’m not saying we should make out on the street, but… Holding hands, a few tiny kisses, these would be nice.”
Harry stays silent and you grow nervous that he might see it all entirely differently. You know it better than anyone else that Harry values his privacy highly, however he is not the most private public figure either, that’s also fact.
His gaze finds yours and slowly, you notice a tiny smile hiding in the corners of his mouth.
“Whatever you feel comfortable with, I’m okay with that as well.”
“Really?” You let out a relieved breath as you sit up in surprise. He chuckles.
“Of course. I just wanted to protect you. And I will still be doing that, but if you feel like you’re okay with being a couple for the rest of the world as well, then let’s do that.”
At first you pout at him, touched at how calm and supportive he is about the whole thing, then you just throw yourself at him, kissing him stupid.
“So then can I soft launch you?” you ask against his lips.
“What?” he laughs, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“Soft launch. I want to post this picture,” you say holding up your phone again, showing him the photo from earlier, “on my Instagram story. Your face is not shown, but everyone will know it’s you. That’s a soft launch, posting a suspicious but not straight forward picture of your partner.”
“Okay, Miss Urban Dictionary,” he laughs, his hand cupping the back of your head to bring you down for another kiss.
Cuddling to his side you open Instagram and then put the line ‘LOVE-ly day in Rome’ between his tattoos so it’s not quite what you notice at first, but it definitely catches your attention if you look at the photo for a few more seconds.
“How do you like it?” you ask, showing him your phone.
“The best soft launch of history,” he teases you before you finally post it.
Then you watch what happens together. Though you don’t have as many followers as Harry does, a lot of his fans engage with your social media profiles as well, hoping to get some content from you as well. Just a few minutes later the photo starts spreading across the internet of course, it reaches Twitter, Tiktok and other platforms, the reactions are mixed and pretty much all over the place, some aren’t the nicest, but Harry is quick to remind you just how much he loves you.
When you both put your phones away, shutting the rest of the world out, you’re lying in bed, facing each other, your hands laced together between the two of you.
“Now it’s out there,” you whisper.
“Softly,” he jokes and you just roll your eyes at him, smiling. “Is hard launch a thing as well?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s that like?”
“Well, it has to feature your pretty face, preferably in a romantic setting.”
“Will we also be doing that?”
“Hmm… maybe.”
“Okay,” he smiles warmly. “But soft or hard, I will always love you.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurb
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𝐒𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮- 𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐧
Info: Tashi takes it too far with art and her protege
Tags: Angst I think? , Kissing, Tashi being a bitch, sort of reader x Tashi
Word count: 1,530
A/n: I'm rusty sorry if this is trash
Art and Tashi are greedy, and they know it. How else had their marriage come about, after all? If not greed, for one another—for different parts, different pieces, different people. And then, you had come along.
You'd practically dropped into their laps. Since Art had retired, Tashi had been itching for someone to sink her claws in, to sharpen raw talent into excellence. You—a pretty young thing, short-skirted and starry-eyed as you wielded your racket like a weapon in the Juniors Australian Open, to France to Wimbledon and all the way to a Grand Slam.
Tashi wanted you. Had to have you—and what Tashi wanted, Art wanted.
You melted like putty in their hands. Art's Career Grand slam was still fresh, and even if it weren't—you've known their names for as long as you've been able to hit a ball with a racket.
Its been a year since then, and under their tutelage; the world has become your oyster—the tennis world, anyways (which is the only world that matters). It's why, currently, you're sandwiched in-between Art and Tashi on the couch of a five-star hotel; TV replaying your game footage as Tashi gives commentary—harsh, but in-fucking-valuable.
Tashi's midway through an extensive analysis of your backhand, when her leg shifts and you're suddenly hyper-aware of the way her thigh presses into yours. Her words bleed away in the rush of warmth to your cheeks.
Art also seems more pre-occupied with kneading his hand in slow, tender circles down your back. It feels nice. Familiar. It doesn't help the way your thoughts are drifting, as if the two people crammed beside you are not literally married, and why would it matter that they're still leaning into your sides even though there's so much space on either side of the couch—
"Hey." Tashi's hand squeezes your knee, nails digging into your skin. "You want to be good or not?" She's sharp, scalding—but a smirk plays at her lips. Your cheeks burn. Art exhales, a low, breathy chuckle. Wife, husband and protégé.
"of course i do" you tell her nervously
'So easy', Art can't help but muse to himself, and his own eyes are drawn to the faintest pink flush of your cheeks. Tashi's face remains neutral. Her eyes fix on the screen. No expression, no expression. The only tells are in the slight, nearly imperceptible stiffening of her shoulders.
“So.” Tashi cocks her head, her dark brown eyes flicking to yours for a moment. “You’re not hitting as hard as you could be from your left side.”
"You know I've had an injury recently" you mutter.
“It’s been months.” There’s a tinge of impatience in Tashi’s voice now. “Do you want to keep making excuses, or do you actually want to fix the problem. Your game today was sloppy—your forehand needs work, L/n.”
your mouth presses into a thin line and you look away from her reservedly.
“C’mon, love.” Art tries to offer some semblance of assurance. His thumb strokes across the line of your shoulder blades, a touch that’s soothing and tender—but also possessive. Greedy.
Tashi’s nails dig just a little harder into your knee. “We’re only trying to help you out,” she adds. There’s a beat of silence. Then— “Do you think we like watching you lose, L/n?”
"I won today Tashi. I was good"
She scoffs sharply. “You were good? Don’t make me laugh. You know, I’ve seen your junior games. I’ve seen your first few grand slams since you started going big. This year? You’ve been—,” Tashi gives a short, dry laugh, shaking her head.
“You can’t even finish a game with less than five unforced errors. Your game today was so full of mistakes… it’s a wonder you even won the second set.”
She's still touching you. both of them are still touching you. tears begin to well in your eyes "I understand".
Tashi sees those unfallen tears, that first hint of fragility, and her expression hardens. “No, no, you don’t understand. You need to be hard—you need to be better. You’ve let too much get to you, L/n, and it shows in your game.”
"fine" you raise from the couch, their hands falling off of you, and walk to the door of the hotel, sitting in the hall outside.
They watch you walk out, and when Art makes to follow you, Tashi’s hand snaps out, latching onto his wrist. “Wait.”
Art raises a brow. The look in her dark eyes is hard and implacable as iron, with a hint of something dangerous flickering within. Tashi leans in, murmuring quietly so they can’t be overheard.
“It’s getting to her. You know it is. She’s too sensitive for her own good—not mentally tough enough.”
Then Tashi raises her eyes to Art's "she's like you"
At this, Art stills. The breath in his lungs hitches, his pulse stuttering in a flicker of panic. A million different insecurities and fears flash through his mind.
He manages a laugh—low, nervous—but Tashi’s expression remains implacable. It doesn’t even waver.
“She’s—she’s not like me,” he insists. "I made it to a Career Grand-slam"
Tashi scoffs again. “Yeah, on your second try. And Y/n’s on the fast track to the same. She’s good Art—great, even. But you know she’s not tough. You know she’s soft—she’s gonna break if we’re not careful.”
"if you're not careful" he says carelessly.
That makes Tashi give him a look, and it’s suddenly sharp, a little dangerous. The grip on his wrists tightens. “Art. Listen. You need to get tougher. Not just with her—you’ve gotten too soft, too. And that’s how you lose—that’s how you lose everything."
There’s something almost pleading under her words. Like she’s saying something more.
"cant you just let me be retired?" he begs, voice almost a whisper.
“No!” The word is sharp as a whip, and Art’s eyes widen in surprise as it rings out. Tashi stands, the line of her body stiff. Anger flickers in her gaze. “You don’t get to do that, Art. You’ve been retired less than a year, and you’re already slacking. Letting yourself go soft—slacking off on training, and working, and…”
She huffs out a sharp breath and turns away, clenching her fists. “I hate it when you do that.”
She turns away dismissively and Art walks over to the door and sits down next to you on the hallway carpet.
You're a pitiful sight. Curled up in the hallway of a five-star hotel, face buried against your knees, shoulders shaking in nearly silent sobs—and as Art settles beside you, the shuddering of your shoulders grows stronger, and your tears run more freely.
Wordlessly, he draws you into his embrace, wrapping you up in his broad, warm arms and pulling you against his chest.
Art lets you cry. Lets his hold tighten a little as you lean into him.
"I-I'm try-ing" you sob.
“I know. I know…shh…” Words soothe you gently, hands rubbing against your back and soothing the shivers in your spine in slow, tender circles.
Art's face is pressed into the top of your head, breath hot against your hair as you're half-curled into his lap. He's so careful around you, always, so gentle—because you're too easy to crack, too fragile, too inexperienced to know any better.
"We have to go back in" he mumbles into your hair, "We can't let anyone see you like this"
He doesn’t have to say the reasoning—it’s obvious.
If the press got a sniff of this? Of a junior player crying in the hallway? You’d be mocked to hell and back again.
Tashi would never let you live it down.
“Hey…shh, come on… it’s alright.” Art’s voice is soft and soothing. His breath is warm against your hair, every bit of him warm and gentle and caring.
He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, a gesture you could almost mistake for affectionate—if he weren’t married, and you weren’t his protégé.
You begin to calm down and allow Art to pull you gently onto your feet.
Once you’re standing, Art’s hands are careful, guiding you back into the room and onto the couch.
Tashi glances at you for a brief moment; there’s no trace of pity in her gaze or emotion. It’s cold, analytical—but you notice the way she takes in the way you’re tucked under the protective shadow of Art’s broad figure. There’s something like jealousy in her eyes for a moment.
"Tashi, I'm sorry." you mumble tiredly "If it's alright with you, I'd like to go to sleep now, I promise to get back on track"
Tashi’s eyes are still fixed on you for a moment before she gives a soft exhale, nodding. “Go.”
Art offers no opposition, and a moment after she’s finished speaking, he guides you out. His palm rests on the small of your back, a hand far too large to be that delicate but still moving with a gentleness that’s almost reverent.
He sends an appreciative nod to his wife as he leads your tired body into the bedroom and helps you position yourself under the sheets. He runs his fingers soothingly through your hair until you begin to drift off, sighing heavily.
#challengers 2024#challengers movie#challengers#art donaldson x you#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson#patrick zweig#mike faist#josh o'connor#tashi duncan#patrick zweig x reader#zendaya#tashi donaldson#tashi x art#tashi duncan x reader#angst
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AITA for banning a child from my house?
It's not my child, btw- it's my cousin, an 8 y/o autistic boy. I am 15 and it's technically not my house.
For context, my cousin has EXTREMELY severe autism, to the point where he quite literally cannot form any connections with people and does not sit down at all. He is always running around, yelling in garbled speech, and doesn't understand words, sentences, or commands. He only responds to his name when his mother calls it. He isn't intelligent mentally, either. I do love him a lot in spite of how he has never paid attention to me or treats both me and everyone else around him as though they don't exist.
I have (had?) a cat. I have raised this cat for 3 years and I got this little furball when he was only 2 weeks old. I gave him milk and cared for him so, so much. He was a Persian-British mix and was, frankly, pretty dumb and sleepy all the time. Like a little doll.
My cousin also, apparently, decided that my cat, Velvet, was doll-like, because he grabbed Velvet and refused to let the cat go. I was in the bathroom at the time and only heard the cat's mewing. Nobody else was home. My cousin thought it would be nice to throw Velvet out of the window. Our 4th-story window. Velvet was a spoilt little thing and had never really lived outside of a house, and consequently, died. My cousin? Didn't care. Just went away from the open window and went back to running around the house.
I came out only a few seconds later and was very confused as to just WHERE was the previously mewing cat, and obviously I couldn't just ask my cousin, since he can't talk and wouldn't be able to think of it either. My mom found the fucking CORPSE when she came back home. I was horrified and, while I don't think this was the proper thing to do to a little boy who has absolutely ZERO awareness of his surroundings, I proceeded to absolutely scream my head off at my cousin while grabbing his arm, which resulted in an absolute meltdown from him and my aunt (who had also just arrived) having to physically pry me off him as I was crying. I don't think I can be really blamed for being upset over my cousin KILLING my BELOVED PET just because he was born wrong. I also sort of yelled at my aunt to never come here or bring her son here ever again. My mother has severely chastised me for that and had ME grounded. What the fuck. Mental illnesses aren't all sunshine and rainbows, y'all. Ugh. I feel like I AM the asshole, but honestly. Consider the circumstances. I hate it here and I miss my fucking cat.
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Some Things Can't Be Taught [ZCL] (M)
Description: In which you are failing college physics, and your childhood best friend offers up one of his friends as your tutor—except, there’s a little something he wants to learn from you in exchange.
Genre: Smut/Fluff/Angst in some spots
Content Warnings: explicit, protected sex; awkward Chenle; reader is more experienced (Chenle is a virgin); reader and Chenle ridicule each other; use of pet name ‘baby’ (Chenle isn’t creative yet); oral sex (f & m receiving); alcohol consumption; explicit unprotected sex (reader on unnamed birth control lol); Chenle is somewhat of a fast learner
Word Count: 23,775
Taglist: @lostinneocity @dinosaurtoothbrushwithninjasauce @niinjo @once4sunrise @amyjipark @buns-inhiding @ti--red @defzcl @theboyz-jacob
Permanent Taglist: @sunnybutcloudy @neozon3nha @waffleuvs
Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!reader (features Dreamies, aespa Karina & Giselle)
Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)
“Come on. It’s either this or you’re gonna fail.” Your best friend, Jisung, crosses his arms over his chest. “You need help, and I already asked him for you. He said yes, so you’ll have to suck it up.”
“Ji, I’ve never even met him before. He’s a complete stranger to me, and I don’t really care all that much if I fail.”
“(Y/N), it’s the first semester of college. You need to try a little harder or you’re gonna start failing everything,” Jisung scolds you.
His front door opens, and both of your gazes go toward the sound. Without even seeing who it is yet, you know exactly what’s happening.
“Park Jisung, did you literally tell him to—”
As soon as Jisung’s friend comes into view, your words die lodged in your throat. You blink a few times to make sure you’re seeing things correctly, and then glare at the man standing next to you. All he does is raise his eyebrows in response, a grin filtering onto his face.
“Who knows,” Jisung whispers, nudging your arm. “Maybe you’ll get more than a tutor.”
“Ew, Sungs, the last thing I need is you trying to find me dick. Please never say that again.”
Jisung’s friend is simply unlike any other man you’ve ever seen. He enters the kitchen, and despite running his fingers through his hair and sighing, he sends you a gentle smile before looking at Jisung.
“This is the girl who needs physics help?”
“And maybe physical edu—” Jisung wheezes as you backhand him in the stomach, nearly keeling him over. His friend bites back a laugh before returning his attention to you.
“Yes, I need help with physics. The class.”
“Is there any other kind of physics?”
You can’t get a read on him. Not really. His hair is neat, not a single strand out of place, and he’s wearing jeans with a button-down tucked into them. Glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose, and he’s carrying two fairly large textbooks.
An instance of silence takes over the room, but both you and this other guy are at a complete loss on what to do next. And for some reason, you can’t stop looking at him. It must be because your analysis isn’t working. He intrigues you, but only in the sense that it’s rare for you to be unable to see into people’s souls.
“(Y/N), this is Chenle, Chenle, this is (Y/N).” Jisung gestures between the two of you once he finally catches his breath.
“Hi, Chenle. Great to meet you. Jisung, can I talk to you for a few minutes? Over there?” You violently point in the opposite direction, but send a somewhat small smile over to Chenle. “Sorry, we’ll just be a second.”
He nods and sets his textbooks down on the counter. You pull Jisung by his wrist.
“What’s going on?” he asks. “I’m doing you a favor.”
“Now, I know you’ve got like, six girls in your phone you could’ve asked to help me with physics. Why him?” You cross your arms over your chest.
“Okay, look. Hear me out all the way first before you punch me.” Jisung sighs and shifts on his feet. “Chenle is literally the smartest person I know. Yes, including you. And he’s really nice, too, and I think you’d…I don’t know, like him eventually if you gave him the chance. You haven’t really done that recently.”
“Sure, but I like being single, Sungs. If I wanted someone, I would’ve asked.”
“You can just let him tutor you then. I know both of you pretty well, alright? I think you two could be good for each other. By all means, don’t date him or try to date him. But for the love of God, let him tutor you. He’s gonna do it for free, and you fucking need it.”
You roll your eyes, but he’s right. There’s no denying it. Letting out a sigh, you finally agree, “Fine. I’ll let him tutor me.”
What you told Jisung wasn’t a lie—you did like being single. And part of keeping yourself single (and happy) has been avoiding any men who might change one or both of those things. You’d never met Chenle before today, but the second you saw him, you knew. He had the potential to ruin your life…if you let him.
So, no dating. But you’ll take tutoring, because if you face the facts, Jisung is right. The last thing you need to do is fail a college course.
You and Jisung walk back over to Chenle. He’d made himself busy with getting a water bottle out of the fridge. Once he tilts it back, you almost curse yourself for your reaction—why the fuck are you watching him swallow it? Imagining the liquid roll down his throat and—
“Well, she said she’d greatly appreciate your tutoring, Chenle.” Jisung sends a bright grin over to his friend. “And she happens to live right next door. I have a…friend coming over, so if you two wanna get started, I’ll be here.”
Jisung wants you dead, apparently.
Chenle’s cheeks get a slight pink hue to them. “Oh, I didn’t—you won’t be there, too?”
“The hell do I need physics help for? I’m a dance major.” Jisung shrugs. “You kids have fun.”
“I’m older than you.” Chenle narrows his eyes.
“Yeah, me too.” You cross your arms over your chest and glare at your friend.
“Besides the point. Now, you two go. I’ve got plans today.”
“I hope you know I’m gonna kill you. Bring a stranger into my house with no warning, what if it’s messy in there?”
“Maybe you should keep your place clean.” Jisung shrugs.
You sigh and face your new tutor. “Is that okay with you? We can reschedule for a different day if that works better for you.”
“No, no.” Chenle shakes his head. “We’re good. I guess I wasn’t expecting to—it doesn’t matter. Let’s go?”
His books are back under his arm, and he uses his other hand to tell you to go to the door first. You send one last glare at Jisung before you leave his apartment with Chenle in tow. You’ve met him all of three seconds, and now you’re bringing him into your house. Great.
“You go to the same school as Ji?” you ask as you step inside your own place.
He runs his fingers through his hair again but nods. “Yeah, but I met him over the summer. At—”
“You go to Jeju for the summer, too?” You raise an eyebrow at him.
“Not usually.”
“I didn’t see you there,” you say, and instantly, your face heats up. “Not that it’s weird, just an observation. I was only there for like, a week, and I would’ve remembered seeing you—”
You cut yourself off, scratching your forehead. He chuckles, the corner of his lips pulling upward slightly.
“I was only there for the last week Jisung was.” He pushes his glasses up and follows you into your kitchen. “He’s pretty cool.”
You snort. “He’s alright. I’ve known him my whole life, unfortunately.”
“Your parents are friends?”
“Best friends,” you tell him. “Not that anything has ever—or will ever happen between us. I legitimately want to knock him out. Maybe put him in a chokehold.”
“I was kinda surprised he didn’t have us stay over there,” Chenle mentions. “I thought he’d give us a little bit more of an introduction.”
“Ah, him bringing a friend over means he’s about to get laid, actually,” you say, going into your fridge to grab some snacks. “Don’t worry, we won’t hear anything. His room’s not against this wall.”
His eyes widen, and he blinks incredulously at you. “Are you serious?”
“Mhm.” You set the strawberries and the watermelon down on the counter and open the lids. “Surprised you didn’t pick up on that. Thought it was some guy-code talk.”
“I…” He pauses, scratching his forehead. “Maybe? I don’t really know.”
“Want some?” You slide the fruit over to him, and you almost laugh when you see how he seems to be floundering for words.
“Sure. Did…What did you want to study today?”
“To be honest, I don’t really want to at all.” You pop one of the strawberries in your mouth. “It might be better for us to get to know each other first. Because right now, you’re a strange man in my apartment. And I’m not very fond of strange men.”
Your satisfaction grows when the pink returns to his cheeks.
“Right, sorry. I’m Zhong Chenle, but I think Jisung told you that already. I’m a physics major, actually, and not to brag or anything, but I’m the top of my class. And I also…also really like music. Singing and writing it.” He purses his lips, and after a few moments, decides he’ll take you up on the offer of snacks.
“You’re insane for being a physics major, just so you know.” You lean forward on your counter, clasping your hands together. “Music is cool.”
His gaze dances all over your figure, but he hides it somewhat well. You barely notice.
“You?”
“Oh, I’m not all that interesting.” You chuckle. “I haven’t declared my major yet. Not really sure what I want to do.”
“I mean, I’m not sure what I’ll do with physics. I’ll probably have to get a Masters if I want to be anything useful.” His tongue darts out to wet his lips. He rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, and you find the awkwardness of all of it…endearing, maybe. You’ll keep going a bit longer.
“I see.” Intentionally being awkward is your forte. You’ll see how much he can handle. How much he’ll give back.
“We should at least do one chapter today,” he says after almost an entire minute of silence. “I told Jisung I would help. And if you push it back, there’s no guarantee you’ll do it.”
“Hm. Jisung is the only reason you want to tutor me?” You can’t help the smirk on your face. Nor can you ignore the way his face hasn’t lost the pink since he stepped foot in your apartment.
“I—I mean, yeah. No. Originally, yeah. He asked me to h—” he cuts himself off, a scoff escaping his lips. “I’m trying to be nice. I honestly don’t have a whole lot of friends outside of Jisung, either, so I guess he thought we could be good together. As friends, of course.”
Oh, let the games begin. This man wants to be your friend, and here you are, eyeing him up and down like he’s your next meal. Getting him flustered has all but unlocked a new portion of you you had no idea existed. Every guy you’ve ever dated has been your stereotypical jock, and certainly, none of them would’ve ever been able to tutor you. But the lack of confidence on Chenle’s part should be studied—how does he look like that and have no confidence? It astounds you.
“Of course,” you agree, biting into a piece of watermelon. “Fine. One chapter, but then you have to come with me to a party tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow’s Tuesday.”
“Yeah, and?”
“We have school on Wednesday.” He blinks at you, pure confusion behind those pretty brown eyes.
“Chenle,” you deadpan. “Letting loose for one night won’t ruin your GPA. I wouldn’t let you drink enough to be hung over.”
“I’ve never been drunk before.” He clears his throat. “Or been to a party. That sounds like a bad idea.”
“And if I promise to stay with you the whole night? I promise, parties are fun. And Jisung will be there. We won’t let anything happen to you.” You stand up straight and cross your arms over your chest. “Not to mention parties are a great place to make friends.”
“I’m not…great at that.”
“Oh, come on.” You glare at him. “I let you tutor me in physics—”
“Let me?”
“Yes, let. And I’ll tutor you on how to make friends. How to get out of your shell a little bit. I can’t pay you money for school help, so let me do this. It’s a good exchange.”
“I literally didn’t ask for anything in exchange, though.”
“It’ll make me feel better.”
He presses his lips into a thin line. “Fine. But if I really don’t want to do something, you can’t make me.”
“Dear God, obviously.” You scrunch your nose up. “Fear not, Chenle, I find consent sexy.”
His lips part, but you’re pretty sure you see him gulp. You put the lids back on the containers and set them back in the fridge, sending a smile his way once you’ve let him flounder enough.
“First step of making friends, be confident.” You point at him. “You’re pretty nice to look at. Get rid of the awkwardness and you’ll have people all over you.”
“Oh, great.” Sarcasm twinges in his tone. “What is this? One of those makeover projects?”
“No, of course not. I’m not changing anything about you. I never understood why they always take the glasses off in those movies. They suit you.” You shrug and walk over to him to look at the books he has.
Your arm brushes his, and he blinks at you. When he doesn’t move away, you smirk. At the end of the day, you don’t want to make him uncomfortable…at least not in a bad sense. But teasing him? If it continues to be this easy to fluster him, then you’ll have a great time with it.
“Shall we?”
He nods. “Um, are we studying in here?”
“There’s not really anywhere to sit. We can go in my room.”
“Your—(Y/N), I—”
“Relax, I’m not luring you into a trap, you weirdo. I’ll be on my bed and you can use the desk.” You gesture toward your door. “We’ll even leave it open.”
“You don’t live alone?”
“Nope, my roommate is at class right now. Not too sure when she’ll be back though, she spends a lot of time at her boyfriend’s house.” You walk toward your room, and he follows behind you.
“We’ll have to share the book, though.” He sets it down on the desk.
Seeing him in your room is odd, to say the least. Mostly because you just met him today, but also because he seems to fit. You sit on the edge of your bed, and with the lamp in the corner not quite bright enough to light up the whole area, it casts shadows on his face. He looks even prettier like this, and you suddenly regret bringing him in here.
“And…the light?”
You point to the wall. “There.”
“Alright, sit at the desk. I’ll stand.” He flicks the switch on and watches you closely as you get up to do as he asks.
“Are you sure? I feel bad making you stand.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he reassures you. “We can meet somewhere else next time. Or get another chair.”
And then he puts the book in front of you, opens it to the first chapter, and places his palm flat on it to keep it on that page. You’d attempt to ignore the way his hand looks, but the way the other one is placed behind you on the chair is a much more dangerous thought.
How Jisung knows exactly who would be your type is crazy. You hate him for it.
“Can you do a physics fun fact? Maybe it’ll make my life less miserable.” You look up at him and see the gentle smile on his face.
“Sure. We’ll do one every lesson. Let me think.” He ponders for a moment, pursing his lips. “Diamonds. They’re the hardest natural material on Earth, well, that we know of. But it has the lowest crystal packing fraction, meaning the atoms are the least densely packed.”
“That’s…physics?”
He shrugs. “Sure.”
“Huh. Alright, then. I feel like I should write that down.” You grab a notebook from your drawer and scribble down what he just said.
“You have pretty handwriting,” he mentions, a hum escaping his throat.
Leave it to you to have warmth spreading to your cheeks from a compliment on your handwriting.
“Oh, thanks.” You clear your throat and slide the notebook to the side. “Should we…learn, I guess?”
“Yeah, for sure.”
It takes an hour to get through the first chapter, but Chenle thoroughly explains it in a way that suddenly has you understanding the very basics. As much as you hate to admit it, Jisung was right. Chenle’s a damn good tutor.
“You caught on fast.” He nudges your arm.
“Well, you didn’t explain it like a decrepit old man who speaks at one word per hour.” You chuckle. “You’re easy to listen to.”
“Wow, your poor professor.”
“No, poor me, alright? He also stands with his elbows permanently glued to his sides. He looks like a T-rex.”
He laughs out loud at that one, reaching up to massage his forehead. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I know. Now you know why I suck at physics.”
“You don’t suck at it,” he defends you. “It takes time to learn. And…good teachers.”
It’s at this point that you realize he’ll be leaving. And that you’ve been making him stand for an hour, it’s almost dinner time, and he’s been incredibly kind (and not weird or impatient) the entire duration.
“Um, I’m really sorry about making you stand for so long. Can I buy you dinner? I feel bad for being a little bit of an ass earlier, too.” You push the chair back and climb to your feet. He’s close like this, and you still have to look up slightly to catch his gaze.
“Oh, I’m supposed to go somewhere with Jisung and our other friend, Mark. If you’re okay with it, you should come.” He must be more comfortable with you, too, because he hasn’t made a single move to back away from you.
“To be honest, new people kinda scare me. I have a max amount per day.”
He smiles. “That’s the most relatable thing you’ve said all day. No worries.”
“Rain check, though?”
“For sure. Did you want to set up another session?” he asks. “Whenever works for you, I can make it happen. I have class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, pretty much until 5pm, but other than that…depending on how much you need, I can do all the weekdays at like, 7pm, but I obviously wouldn’t stay super late. School’s important, and—”
“Seven is great. I’m gonna need a lot of help.” You stick your hands into your pockets. “And tomorrow? You’re still going?”
“A deal’s a deal.” He nods.
“Do you want to meet me here? Jisung’s going, too, so he can drive the three of us.”
“Sounds good.”
“Alright.”
“Yep.”
“Have a good time with your friends.”
“Have a good time…recharging.”
Silence cascades over the two of you once again, and this time, it’s broken by both of you cringing and laughing at yourselves. You walk him to your front door and then find yourself in a similar situation, only now you’re in the hallway of your apartment building.
It’s too awkward to say you want to hang out with him more, but it’s also too awkward to rush him out of the door.
“Oh,” you say, reaching into your pocket for your phone. “Do you want to exchange numbers? That way if there are any changes or something, we can reach each other.”
“For sure.”
You offer it to him with the contacts screen open, and he takes it from you. He quickly types his number in and hands it back to you. You start to say something, and then you notice Jisung out of the corner of your eye. Immediately, you snap your mouth shut and take a large step back from the man in front of you.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He gives you a small smile before walking toward Jisung, and without another moment of hesitation, you close your door and groan to yourself. Jisung will never let you hear the end of this. Good thing Chenle will most likely get a barrage of teasing today, because it might get it out of Jisung’s system by the time he’s around you again.
You’re finishing up your makeup in your bathroom when Jisung stops mid-sentence, perturbed by the knock sounding on the door. With your lip gloss on, you turn to Jisung.
“I need to go change. Can you get that? It’s Chenle.”
“It’s…I’m sorry, did you just say Chenle’s here?”
“Wow, you can hear with those big ass ears. I’m surprised.” You feign shock. “Yes, please let him in. And don’t be weird. It’s not what you think at all, so if you make him awkward, I’ll kill you.”
“What is happening?” he mutters to himself as you close your bedroom door to change.
The party isn’t a huge one, so you planned on going in a more relaxed outfit than you originally thought. You settle for a crop top, jeans, and boots. After you look at yourself in the mirror six times to make sure it looks fine, you leave your room to find Jisung and Chenle have barely made it a few feet inside your apartment.
Jisung’s back is to you, but Chenle faces you. It seems like he stops mid-conversation at the sight of you, and after Jisung turns to you as well, you pretend not to notice the other man’s gaze lingering on you.
“Three years later. Did you cut the shirt yourself?” Jisung grumbles.
“You’re ridiculous. Are you guys ready?”
“Wait, Chenle’s going?” Jisung glances between the two of you. “Like, for real?”
“Obviously. Why else would he be here?”
“You…invited him to a party. And he…said yes.”
“Sorry, Chenle, sometimes I have to repeat things seven times for him to understand me. Can we go?”
Jisung’s at a loss, which makes both you and Chenle chuckle. The car ride to the party is fairly short, but you let Chenle take the front seat, and you sit in the middle in the back. Leaning forward, you rest your elbows on the center console as you talk to the two men.
“You guys are hanging out at this party together?” Jisung asks.
“Now you’re just making it weird,” the other man mentions, pushing his glasses up. “She invited me. I wasn’t gonna say no.”
“I invite you places all the time.”
“Well, Sungs.” You pat his shoulder. “Should I point out the obvious differences? I’m more charismatic than you. And cuter.”
You grin to yourself at the plastering of pink on Chenle’s cheeks, and he averts his gaze out the window to avoid Jisung seeing.
You walk in front of them, essentially leading them into this house. Your friend throws these all the time, and you and Jisung are always on the invite list. Mostly because you’re a package deal at this point, but also because you’re pretty sure your friend has a crush on him.
“I’m gonna get a drink.” You head toward the kitchen, and when you glance back, Chenle is following behind you.
“Jisung found a girl, I think,” he explains. “Is it okay if I—”
“You think I’d leave you by yourself? You don’t even really want to be here. Of course, you can hang out with me.” You pause and wait for him to catch up, and then loop your arm through his.
He’s surprised at first but allows you to guide him through the crowd of people. There are several of your friends in the kitchen—Karina, Jaemin, and Renjun. They all light up at the sight of you, but then immediately catch where you’re attached to Chenle.
“Sorry, there’s more than one new person here for you.” You look back at him quickly. “They’re all nice, don’t worry.”
“I think I’ve met that one,” Chenle says. “Renjun, right?”
You beam at him. “Right. That’s good then.”
Chenle stands next to you on the opposite side of the kitchen island as you animatedly talk to your friends. You introduce him to them, explain how he’s your new tutor (Jisung sponsored), and that you thought it’d be cool for him to hang out with everyone. Your group is immediately welcoming, and soon enough, Jaemin offers to pour you guys each a drink.
You glance at Chenle. “You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to.”
“I never have.” He shrugs. “First time for everything, right?”
“Rum and Coke,” you tell Jaemin. “Go easy on the rum, though. We don’t want to be dragged out of here.”
Once the drinks are poured into the red cups, Jaemin hands them to the two of you. You sip yours, watching Chenle closely as he lifts it to his lips. Just like with that fucking water bottle yesterday, you can’t help but stare as he swallows the liquid, and you know damn well your friends are clocking this whole thing.
“Not bad,” he says.
“There’s barely any alcohol in it,” you tease him. “Did you want to go sit down? Jaemin’s selective about who’s allowed in the living room, so the couch will be open.”
“Selective?”
“Well, one time, this random couple hooked up on his old couch. Like, in front of everyone. It was crazy. But he also replaced that couch, so no need to worry about it being gross.” You laugh as Chenle’s jaw drops.
“People just…do that at parties?”
“Not typically in the middle of the party, but sometimes, yeah. But that doesn’t mean you have to, so don’t freak out.” You grab his wrist and lead him toward the couch, glad to see that the only other people in there are Jeno, Giselle, Jisung, and a girl you don’t recognize sitting on his lap.
“This is already a lot better,” Chenle murmurs, his breath brushing your ear as he leans down to tell you.
“Good,” you reply.
“Well, well, well.” Jisung clicks his tongue. “You were supposed to be a good influence on her, not let her poorly influence you.”
“There’s like, half a shot of rum in there.” You sneer at your best friend.
“Whatever. Plan is working.”
You flip him off, and then you and Chenle take a seat opposite of everyone. He keeps a respectful distance from you and holds his cup with both hands, nervously glancing around.
“Don’t tell me you put Chenle in (Y/N)’s line of fire,” Giselle teases, grinning widely.
“You guys are gonna make him think I’m weird,” you complain. You touch Chenle’s arm. “I’m not evil, they’re just assholes.”
“I’m inclined to believe you, I think.” He shrugs. Attempting to hide the humorous gleam in his eyes, he takes another sip of his drink.
The night passes by somewhat quickly, and eventually, the whole group is in the living room, meaning no one is really paying attention to you and Chenle anymore. You’ve had enough to start feeling a buzz, and the way the pink on Chenle’s cheeks has become permanent tells you he might be a bit past that part himself.
“Maybe we should get some water,” you whisper to him. “Are you okay?”
He nods, and when he looks at you, you almost recoil at how close it makes you. Resting his head back on the cushion, he takes a deep breath. “This is nice. I’m not really stressed about anything right now.”
“Yeah, it happens like that.” You allow yourself a brief glance over the length of his throat, and the alcohol coursing through you has you wanting more than you’d ever admit out loud.
“Can I tell you a secret?” He lets out a sigh.
“If you want to, sure.” You nod.
“Think you’re really pretty.” He laughs, scrunching up his nose. “And talking to you is cool.”
“Well, if it helps at all, I think you’re pretty, too.” Your heart warms at the sight of him like this. You’ve known him just over twenty-four hours, but you knew he needed this—a way to relax and stop worrying about life. You’re not sure exactly what parts are stressing him out, but he needed to get away from them regardless.
“Thank you for not making that weird.” He scratches his forehead. “Maybe I should drink water.”
“Stay here, I’ll get it for you.” You set your cup down on the coffee table and go back into the kitchen.
As you’re grabbing two water bottles from the fridge, you’re joined by Jisung.
“You’re taking care of him now?”
“Relax. It’s a water bottle.” You shake your head. “It’s not like that.”
“Sure.”
“I’m surprised you came up for air. Breaking away from what’s-her-face must’ve been difficult.” You stop in the doorframe and sigh. “You were right, though. He’ll be a good friend.”
“That’s all I needed.” Jisung grins. “Both of you need more of those.”
“I take it back. We’re gonna fight outside.”
“I’d drop your ass and you know it,” your best friend jokes. “But try if you must.”
You make it back to Chenle, who gratefully accepts the bottle from you. When you sit, you don’t realize how much closer the two of you were from when you first sat down. There’d been a good foot of space between you guys, and now your thigh brushes his.
“Are you tired?” you ask him. “I can take you home.”
“Go…home. Like…with you?” His gaze drags over you, and your eyes widen.
“As in, I drop you off at your home, and then I go to mine.” You put your hand on his knee. “Are you alright?”
“I never told you the physics fun fact of the day.” He points at you. “The screens of smartphones work thanks to the electric charges leaving our fingers. But yours didn’t. ‘Cause you didn’t text me.”
“Did I leave you waiting?” You nudge him.
He nods. “Mhm. It’s not nice.”
“Alright, I’m sorry.” You bite back a smile. Who knew a somewhat tipsy man could be so fucking cute? “I’ll text you right now.”
You grab your phone and send him a message. It vibrates in his pocket.
“Oh, hold on. I think someone just texted me.” He grabs it and checks it, and then grins widely. “It was you.”
“It was me, yes.” You wave Jisung down, waiting until he’s close enough to hear you. “Can you take him home? It’s best if he’s done for tonight.”
“You’re staying?”
“For now, yeah. I had too much to drive him.”
“Sure. Is he coherent?” Jisung glances at the other man. “Hangover bets?”
“He won’t be hung over. He had like three drinks with barely any alcohol. Don’t tease him. Be nice and take him home. Make sure he actually makes it to his bed, okay?”
“Jeez, what are you, his mom?”
“My mom’s at home right now,” Chenle mutters.
“Yeah, I’ll make sure he’s okay.”
The next morning, you didn’t receive a message from Chenle. You were curious as to how he was feeling and if he’d been okay all night. And you thought about messaging him closer to seven when he was supposed to show up, but you decided not to. If he didn’t come at the scheduled time, you could do it then.
But he did.
He showed up with his textbooks in hand, and an apology for his actions on the tip of his tongue. You quickly brushed it under the rug—if anyone knows anything about drunk thoughts, it’s you. All discussion of the night before was done after that, and the two of you simply continued your tutoring.
Weeks later, it was 7:30pm on a Thursday, and you were sitting on your bed, your back against the wall and your arm pressed against Chenle’s. The physics book was open across both laps, and his soft voice guided you through whichever lesson you were on now.
“So, the universe is still growing?” you ask.
“Oh, yeah. Every second it’s expanding. It has been for billions of years and will continue on for another billion years after we’re gone.” His eyes widen as he shifts to get a better look at you. “Think about it. All those stars out there, the planets. We’re still discovering new ones almost every new place we unlock. This is my favorite part of physics—learning why everything is the way it is. Real explanations, and not just…talk.”
Those same stars he’s talking about? You’re pretty sure they’re scattered in his gaze, staring right back at you as he allows his passion to shine through.
“Chenle,” you say, pausing briefly. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“You told me before you’ve never dated anyone. Why?”
“Oh.” He clears his throat. “I never really wanted to. I’m focused a lot on my schoolwork and stuff, I figured I wouldn’t have time. So, I just…didn’t. And let’s be honest here, it’s not like I had a whole lot of prospects, anyway.”
You stare at him with a raised brow before he returns the expression.
“What? I’m serious.”
“You’ve got to be joking. Like actually.”
“Come on, all I do is study. I don’t even really talk to anyone, so how would I have had any?” He sits up further and stretches, moving his glasses to rub his eyes.
“Well, now you do talk to people. Anyone you’ve been interested in?”
“I thought we were doing this to make me friends, not find me a girlfriend.” He presses his lips together. “Besides, I don’t have any time. I probably won’t until after I graduate.”
“Dude, you spend pretty much every night with me. That’s why you don’t have time. And being interested in someone doesn’t necessarily mean you have to date them.” You cross your arms over your chest.
“Right, and so what does that interest even do, then?”
“I have to spell this out for you?” You narrow your eyes at him.
“I’m genuinely confused.”
“Hook up with someone. College is important, yeah, but have some fun.”
He laughs. “I don’t want that, either. We both know I don’t have the confidence for something like that, and it doesn’t sound all that appealing. Not that I judge people who do. I’m obviously friends with Jisung. And I genuinely wouldn’t have any clue how to handle that situation.”
“It’s very simple. You approach girl, flirt, make her laugh, dance a little, and then if she’s into you, you take her somewhere—”
“Not what I meant.”
Your jaw drops as realization hits you, and you slap your hand over your mouth. “Oh, my God, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think you’d—and now I’m being an asshole because I—dude.”
“Relax,” he says. “It’s not really a big deal. You didn’t mean anything by it, and if anything, it’s flattering you didn’t think that was a possibility.”
“Dear God, someone delete me from this Earth.” You glance up at the ceiling. “So, obviously, don’t hook up with random people if that’s not how you want to lose it. Is it one of those waiting til marriage things?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “Just no opportunities have presented themselves that seemed worth it. In the past.”
“This is embarrassing. For me, not you.” You drop your head in your hands. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
He puts his hand on your shoulder. “You don’t make me uncomfortable. I wouldn’t have told you if that were the case. Let’s just stick to finding me friends for now, alright?”
“Of course, yeah. That makes sense.” You take a deep breath, pausing. “I’m getting hungry. Do you wanna go get some food?”
“Sure, sounds good. I’ll pay this time.”
“No, you won’t.” You poke his chest. “Nice try, though.”
You spring up from your bed, suddenly feeling as if the distance between him and your bedroom needs to be far greater than what it has been. Time to erase the last ten minutes from your memory and hope it doesn’t make absolutely everything weird between the two of you.
Everything was normal until the next Saturday. You don’t usually see Chenle on the weekends unless there’s a party you’re dragging him to. Today, you hoped to relax your brain and take a day for yourself, but the knock at your door decided otherwise.
You open it, and Chenle stands there, looking as if he’s about to be sick to his stomach. Recoiling, you step back to let him in, and he enters without a word.
“Are you okay?” you ask. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“I don’t want to be a virgin anymore.”
You flounder for words, unsure of how to handle this situation. “I thought you wanted a real opportunity—”
“Opportunities are made, aren’t they?” He wets his lips. “How do I…I don’t want to be fucking awful when I do find someone, okay?”
“Chenle, that’s a wild way to think of it. If you want to be with someone you love, and you’re in a relationship long enough to get to that point, the other person should be understanding—”
“It’s not a big deal. Societal constructs or whatever.”
“I…Okay. I’ll help you find someone.” Your brain whirls at the sudden switch, and you shift on your feet. “Are you sure?”
There’s a moment of silence, accompanied with him looking up at the ceiling briefly, as if there are words locked in his throat he desperately wants to let out. He curses under his breath and shakes his head.
“I don’t want someone random.”
“You have someone in mind?”
“This is so fucking embarrassing.” He laughs at himself and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t be weirded out by this. But I need to be with someone I trust, and you…you’re the only girl I trust.”
The shock hits you so hard, you’re almost knocked off balance. You knew Chenle had gotten more comfortable with you, but this stretches a bit beyond that. And before you knew he was a virgin, you wouldn’t have said no to hooking up with him.
“Me.” You gulp. “You want…to have sex with me.”
“Okay, now it’s weird.” His fists clench at his sides and he avoids your gaze. “Forget I came by, okay? I’m sorry that was so weird, we can just never talk about it again, and I’ll keep…being me, and—”
“Slow down, please.” You card your fingers through your hair and try to force the shock away. “I didn’t even respond. Give me like three seconds to wrap my head around it.”
He nods in response, staring down at his feet.
“So, you…you trust me. And because of that, you want me to take your virginity?” You’re still not completely caught up.
“Yeah, it sounded better in my head, I think.”
“Is that the only reason you want me instead of someone else?” you ask.
“What do you mean by that?” He plays with the bottom hem of his T-shirt. “But you’re not—it’s not like that. I trust you. We both know I think you’re pretty. I’ve learned a lot of…things from you, and I thought that maybe we could—”
“You want sex lessons.”
“Can you—My God, please don’t say it like that.” He cringes.
“It’s not weird,” you reassure him. “I didn’t expect this. At all, clearly. Um, I need a little bit of time to think about it.”
“I’m so sorry. I don’t want things to change with us because you’re really a great person, and I…You know I won’t be mad at you or anything if you say no. I get it.”
“I didn’t think you would be.” You pause. “I’ll give you an answer tomorrow. I need to process a little more.”
“Of course. Thank you. Either way.”
More silence.
“Um, did you know that sound waves could heat up cold soup?”
The awkwardness swarming the two of you shatters as you laugh. “You’re ridiculous. Truly the only man I know that’ll proposition sex in one sentence and then move on to fucking physics.”
“Icebreakers. They work wonders.” He shrugs.
If it was possible for your brain to be on one topic for an entire twenty-four hours, that’s exactly what happened to you. When the topic first came up, Chenle seemed like he wanted someone special to share the moment with. Now, he wants to get it out of the way. And he wants your help. If he regrets it, there’s literally nothing you’ll be able to do to change that. And you’d undeniably been attracted to him from the moment you saw him, but that doesn’t mean this was the best way to go about this. He trusts you. He said that with his whole chest, and you’re not sure if that’s the entire reason. So you came up with some stipulations, and if any of them are a no for him, then you won’t do it. You’re about as nervous as he was when he came over to ask you, but you text him and tell him to come over. When he sits next to you on your couch, you fidget with your hands in your lap. You don’t know exactly how to just say it.
“Before I make my decision, there are a few things you’d have to be okay with.” You clear your throat, and you watch realization dawn on his face.
“Okay. What is it?” he asks.
“First, I’m clean and on birth control, so protection is up to you whether or not you want to use it. But it’s a good habit to start, obviously. For when you…eventually hook up with other people, too.”
He gulps. “That makes sense.”
“We don’t tell Jisung.”
“I think he’d kill me if he knew, anyway.” He grips his thighs tightly, fingers digging into the fabric of his jeans.
“If I do something or ask you to do something you don’t want to do, tell me. I would never get mad at you for telling me no, okay?”
“Same would go to you.”
“If you were to ever…find that you’re falling for me, or catching feelings, you have to tell me. And we’ll stop.” You analyze him closely, waiting for any change in his face.
He chews on his bottom lip, but ends up nodding.
“You still have to tutor me in physics. And if things get too awkward and I fail, I’ll kill you.”
That one makes him laugh, and his grip on his legs relaxes. “I won’t let you fail.”
“We’ll still be friends after this?” you inquire. “Like, we’re not gonna do this and then you’ll fall off the face of the Earth or anything?”
“It’s—”
“Don’t tell me it’s impossible. Just answer the question.”
He gives you a soft smile. “I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”
With that, you stand up and hold out your hand. He stares blankly at you, lips slightly open as he tries to figure out what you’re trying to do.
“No better time than the present.”
“Oh, we…you…we’re gonna do this now?” He stands up.
“We don’t have to. Let’s see where it goes.” You grab his hand and tilt your head at him. “If you’re okay with that.”
“It’s just…I’d want to get condoms, and I didn’t bring any because I thought this was going in a completely different direction—”
“I have some.”
“You…” He wets his lips. “Okay, yeah. Let’s, um, see where it goes.”
Chenle allows you to guide him into your room, and then he’s sitting on the edge of your bed. Giving yourself one more mental pep talk, you straddle his lap, not quite sitting all the way down yet. His breath hitches, and his fists clench at his sides.
“Relax,” you whisper. “You know I’ll take care of you. You can touch me.”
He hesitantly lifts his hands up to find your waist, barely gripping you while refusing to break eye contact.
“Have you ever kissed someone before?” you ask, unable to hide how closely you’re staring at his parted lips.
“Not recently,” he responds. “Probably not one that counts.”
“Follow my lead, okay? And you can stop me at any point if you want to.”
You adjust yourself and sink down on his lap. He’s already half hard, the firmness of his length pressing into your core.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “It’s…”
“Don’t apologize.” You chuckle, almost breathlessly. “That’s what’s supposed to happen.”
He scoffs at you, his pointed look does well in breaking the awkward tension between the two of you. You cup his cheek, eyes trailing over his face as you trace his bottom lip with your thumb.
He watches you through a curious, almost hazy gaze. Like he’s admiring you with him like this. Swallowing the rest of your nerves, you lean forward and press your mouth to his. He inhales sharply, his fingers gripping your shirt. The movement is awkward, and he doesn’t reciprocate right away.
“Chenle,” you say. “I said follow my lead. You have to…move your lips a little.”
“Sorry, it’s new—”
“Stop apologizing. There’s nothing wrong with any of it. Just listen and learn.”
He nods, and you return to kiss him. This time, he matches your movements, and that’s when you realize just how fast of a learner he is. You reach up to weave your fingers into his hair. He gasps, pulling away to look at you. Your lip gloss shines on his lips, and you’re certain that a new part of yourself has been unlocked.
“You’re…so pretty.” His voice strains.
“What do you want?” you ask.
“You.” He gulps. “I-if that’s okay.”
“Have you thought about this before?” You trace along his jawline. “Me?”
He sucks in a breath. “I didn’t mean to. At first. And then you…we talked about hooking up with people, and all I could see was you.”
“What kind of thoughts, Chenle?” While all you want to do is keep kissing him, you move your lips down from his jaw to his neck.
“(Y/N), I—”
“If you want to do this, you have to stop being scared of saying the wrong thing,” you hum, and when you find his pulse thrumming beneath your lips, you gently bite down.
“Fuck,” he chokes out. “I-I’ve seen enough porn, okay? I don’t usually think about people I know like that, but I’ve imagined what you’d feel like.”
The desperate twinge to his voice has you wishing you could clench your thighs together. You don’t want to do too much right off the bat, but he’s fully hard beneath you now, pressing directly into your core. Despite your own slight embarrassment, you allow your lips to brush his ear.
“Do you touch yourself to those thoughts?”
His grip tightens again, and his pants nearly turn into whines. “Yes.”
“I think we should slow down,” you tell him. “Don’t wanna overwhelm you.”
He sighs when you lift yourself off his lap. You take your usual spot against the wall and pat the bed next to you, and he joins you without hesitation. When you lean in to kiss him, he quickly reciprocates. You’re surprised by how fast he caught on to the movement, because the kiss is nothing but enjoyable for you.
“Can I touch you?” you ask, tapping your fingers on his upper thigh.
He nods fervently, but quickly pulls you back into a kiss. You smile against his lips before popping the button on his jeans. He curses quietly at the sound of you pulling his zipper down. You push down on them, and he lifts his hips to assist you. Pausing the kiss, you look down at where he strains in his boxers.
“It’s not gonna take very long.” He lets out a weak laugh. “Don’t wanna make a mess.”
“Let me worry about that,” you tell him.
You pull back for a split second to look at his face, finding lust waltzing around in his irises. He either can’t hide it or doesn’t want to, but you have him wrapped around your finger. His lips are swollen from kissing you, and he’s never been more attractive to you. Your thighs clench together, and the warmth between them is undeniable.
“You sure?” you whisper.
He nods, and you go back for another kiss in an attempt to distract him from you pulling at the hem of his boxers. The sound that escapes from his mouth into yours sends a shiver up your spine. God, the things you’d do to him if it wouldn’t melt his brain. You trail your finger up his length, collecting some of the precum from his tip.
He curses but doesn’t break the kiss, his hand now tightly gripping your thigh. His touch sends sparks through you, and you wrap your hand around him.
You stroke him up and down, grinning into the kiss when you feel how he pulses against your palm. He struggles to keep his focus on kissing you the longer you slowly pump his cock. You sink your teeth into his bottom lip, gently tugging it as you rub your thumb across his tip. A long moan escapes his mouth, and his head thuds back against the wall, and within seconds strings of white pump from him.
You catch as much of it as you can in your hand and kiss him again to quiet him down. This exchange is softer, slower than your previous, and he all but melts into you as he attempts to calm his breathing.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I—”
“Don’t apologize.” You slide away from him to grab a towel from your closet. “That was the whole reason I did it.”
You won’t tell him how weak your legs are and how bad you want his hands all over you, considering it’s very likely he wouldn’t know what to do with you anyway. As soon as your hand is cleaned off, you come back to find him zipping and buttoning his pants.
“Can I ask you something?” He chews the inside of his cheek.
“Chenle, my hand was just on your penis. Of course, you can ask me anything.” You chuckle at him.
“Did that…do anything to you? Are you turned on?”
Embarrassment replaces the heat already on your cheeks as you turn to him. “I mean, yeah. But that’s a good thing, obviously.”
“You don’t want me to help you?”
For the thousandth time this weekend, you’re floundering for words in his presence, but you can’t deny how much you do, indeed, want that. You figured he’d not even think about it, leave, and then you could just take care of yourself instead.
“I…”
“If not, that’s okay. But I didn’t want to learn how it felt for just me, you know.” He shifts to the edge of the bed and holds his hand out to you. “C’mon. Show me how to help you. Besides, I definitely owe you now.”
“Okay.” You step toward him and slide your palm on his, gasping when he tugs you into him.
He moves to place your back against the mattress, your head hitting the pillows. Hovering over you, he allows his gaze to travel down to your mouth. You spread your legs to accommodate him, grabbing his hand and placing it on your thigh.
“You could say I’ve…studied this part a little.” He wets his lips. “But I don’t hold too much stock in that stuff being real, so…”
You chuckle. “That’s good. Porn is very unrealistic.”
“How do you want me to do this?” he asks. “Um, I can use my hand or if you want oral, that’s…yeah.”
“Let’s make sure you’re good with your hands first, alright?” You weave your fingers through his hair and rub your thumb against his scalp.
“I want you to feel good, too.” He furrows his eyebrows as if he’s trying to figure something out. When he leans down, he brushes his lips against your jawline, mimicking the way you kissed his neck earlier.
“Chenle,” you whisper, letting your head fall back against the pillow. “Come lay next to me.”
He listens to you quickly, making sure your back is flat against his chest. His arm is snug around your waist as he brushes your hair out of the way to leave wet, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. You skin buzzes everywhere he touches you.
“Don’t be afraid of me, okay?” you tell him. “Foreplay is the most important part of sex for a girl. It’s harder for us to finish, so you’ve gotta…be deliberate.”
“Mhm,” he hums, squeezing your hip.
“You can explore.”
“Show me where.” He most likely meant it to make sure he doesn’t do anything you don’t want him to, but as you place your hand over his to guide him, more warmth spreads between your thighs. You slide him beneath your shirt, slowly moving him over your skin.
“You’re so warm.” He kisses your shoulder. “Soft.”
You stop at your breasts, a soft moan escaping you as you have him squeeze. Your head falls against his chest, and you bite your lip as you move him beneath your bra. He whispers a curse, and you can’t stop yourself from squirming against him.
You move your hand away from his, and he moves to your other breast. His thumb brushes over your nipple, and your eyes nearly roll back into your head. Sure, you told him what to do, but the feeling of his fucking hands on you has your fantasies running wild.
“Was that okay?” he asks.
You nod and tug on his wrist. “Now, when you really start, you have to make sure whoever you’re with is wet. If she’s really wet, it’ll feel better for both of you.”
“How will I know the difference between—”
“Touch me.” You push him toward the apex of your thighs. “That’s what really wet feels like.”
He slides his hand beneath your shorts. “(Y/N), I don’t…I don’t know how—”
“It’s okay,” you say, putting your palm on him again. “I’ll show you.”
He cups your core and gently rubs back and forth. “Doesn’t this ruin your panties?”
“Precisely why I try to take them off as quickly as possible in these situations, smart ass.” You scoff. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’ll get messy.”
“You caught my cum in your hand. It’s the least I can do.” He shifts down a bit and waits for you to look at him so he can kiss you. In the midst of the kiss, you move him beneath your panties. He lets out a shaky sigh when he feels the wetness against his skin.
“Few, um, key things going on here,” you tell him. You position his fingers over your clit. “This is the clit. Don’t ever forget that. It’s arguably the most important thing on my body. In…this case, I mean.”
“Mhm.” His breathing is uneven against your neck, but he listens intently.
You move further down to your entrance. “This is where you’re gonna put those pretty fingers to use, okay?”
“You’re so wet,” he comments, his forehead dropping on your shoulder. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
You pull him back to your clit. “Start here. Don’t be a psycho. Going slow is good until she tells you to hurry the fuck up.”
“Stop saying it like that,” he says, allowing you to move him in whatever way will make you feel good.
“Like what?” you ask, your hips unintentionally grinding down on his fingertips.
“She. I’m with you right now. Only wanna think about you.” He clicks his tongue. “I got it now.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You move your hand away from his, sighing as he continues his circles. “When you put your fingers in, use your thumb to keep rubbing the clit.”
“Is it normal that I really feel like I might cum in my pants?” He chuckles.
“Considering this is your first time touching a real vagina, yes.”
He slides his fingers inside you, the length of them alone making your eyes roll back. When you moan, he lets out a similar sound, his hips pushing against your ass. You close your eyes, truly not expecting much out of him in the slightest. You’ll probably have to remind him—
His thumb finds your clit as he starts pumping his fingers inside you, and your back arches from the pleasure. You’re desperate to finish from getting him off earlier, and you start to believe he might just get you there.
“If it’s…it’s this tight with my fingers, how does…good fucking God, (Y/N), you’re fucking perfect.” He picks up his speed a little, and you feel that knot tying deep in your stomach.
“Whatever you do, don’t fucking change anything,” you practically whimper the words out, rocking your hips in time with his hand. Your walls clamp down on his fingers, and you let out a loud moan, your nails digging into his wrist as he continues his work between your legs.
Once overstimulation sets in, you close your thighs around him until he gets the hint that you’re done. He gently removes himself from your panties and settles your shorts back in the proper spot. You pant while he kisses your neck.
“I feel like everything makes sense now,” he mutters.
“What do you mean?”
“Why people are so obsessed with sex. I get it.”
“You haven’t even had sex yet.” You chuckle and turn toward him. “Um, you can stay if you want to, but don’t feel like you have to. I know you have class tomorrow.”
“I definitely would, but I for sure came in my pants. So I’ve gotta go home and change.” He pauses and wets his lips. “If you come with me, you could stay at mine.”
“Chenle, that…” you trail off with a sigh. “That sounds like we’d be crossing a friendship line, you know?”
“Oh. Yeah, of course. Don’t even worry about it, I don’t know what’s normal in these situations, so I’ll…just go home. And I’ll see you tomorrow, right? Normal time?” His cheeks are stained pink as he lifts himself off your mattress.
You nod, frowning to yourself—you don’t want him to leave. You want him to lay next to you all night, and no part of that sounds like a good idea.
“Have a good night, Chenle.” You clasp your hands together in your lap.
“You, too.” And then he’s gone, and you fall back against your mattress.
You won’t get him out of your brain any time soon, but at the very least, you hope it’s not going to make everything awkward between the two of you. He wanted lessons, plural, so you can only think that means he’ll want to have real sex. More than once.
You grab your pillow and put it over your face, screaming into it.
This, you fear, is only the beginning.
“Chenle, it’s been two hours. Please put the book down. I can’t think anymore today.” You rest your head back on the wall.
“You’ve got a test coming up,” he mentions as he gives you a pointed look. “If you don’t do well, that’s a direct reflection on me.”
“Mm, no. I think it’s a reflection of me not being able to shove all of this in my brain.” You drop your head in your hands.
He stops for a moment, and then ultimately decides to close the book. “Maybe I should come earlier tomorrow?”
Without another thought, you rest your head on his shoulder and sigh. He tenses for a brief second, but quickly relaxes. Neither of you are quite used to the physical affection aspect, but after last night, you’re not too sure you have to hold back anymore.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“My brain hurts.”
“I’m serious.”
“Me, too,” you reassure him. “If there was something wrong, I’d tell you.”
“C’mere.” He wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer to him, all before resting his head on top of yours.
You shouldn’t enjoy it. In fact, you should be encouraging him to do the exact opposite of this, but, for some reason, you crave his comfort. Your day was unnaturally long, and with a test coming up, you need all of the support you can get.
“I know I’m not Jisung, but you can talk to me about anything, you know.” His voice rumbles quietly, and he reaches up to play with your hair.
“We shouldn’t be this close right now,” you say.
“I know.” He sighs.
Your heart twists in your chest. Both of you are fully aware of what all of this could mean—of the risk you’re taking by opening up a connection like this—but at the same time, neither of you are moving to change it.
“And it’d…be wrong to kiss you, wouldn’t it?” Chenle taps his fingers on your arm. “Because we only do that during…I don’t know, whatever you want to call them. Lessons?”
Fuck, you want to kiss him, too.
“I…I think we make the rules.” You lift your head to lean toward him. “Besides, maybe you could use another lesson. Do you want that?”
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he admits. “But I don’t want you to think that’s all I’m doing here.”
You close the distance, pressing your lips to his. He puts his hand on the back of your head and sighs into your kiss. You shift closer to him. With your full attention on him, you drag you hand down his chest, down, down, down—
Your front door opening sends the two of you flying apart, and you curse under your breath. Chenle gets up from your bed, but not without kissing you one last time. You hate how fucking giddy it makes you feel.
“(Y/N), are you asleep with your lights on?” Jisung’s voice carries from the living room.
“It’s almost 10 o’clock,” Chenle mutters to you.
The two of you walk out together, and Jisung glances between you and Chenle, then down at his phone to look at the time.
“Chenle’s still here.”
“Yeah, we were studying. I have a test on Friday.” You cross your arms over your chest. “I think we fell asleep for a little bit.”
“Huh.”
“I was actually just leaving.” He almost reaches out to touch you, but opts against it and nods at you instead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You watch Chenle leave, and you know you’re in for a long conversation with Jisung. Rubbing your eyes, you head into your kitchen to get some water, and as soon as you take a sip, of course, Jisung opens his mouth.
“I think he’s a virgin.”
You nearly spit out your water. “What the fuck, Sungs?”
“Just in case you were thinking about doing anything with him.”
“First of all, why would him being a virgin matter? And second of all, why are you even thinking of me thinking about wanting to do something with him?”
Jisung looks you up and down. “You fell asleep, huh?”
“What?”
“Dude, look at you. Your hair’s messy, it looks like you spent an hour biting his lips, be so for real right now.” He scoffs and shakes his head. “Just be gentle with him when you break his heart. I like him.”
“I’m not—Jisung, for the love of God, I don’t plan on banging him.”
“You’re such a liar. I know you too well. But I’ll let you live in your land of delusion.”
When you passed your exam (with flying colors), you hadn’t expected Chenle to show up to your house that weekend. He showed up with Thai food, a bottle of wine, and a smile to rival the entire sky full of stars outside your window.
“You passed.”
“What’s all this for?” You chuckle as you close the door behind him before following him into your kitchen. “It was just a test.”
“Just a test,” he tsks, narrowing his eyes at you. “You’ve been studying for it for weeks.”
“If you’re gonna drink, I’m not letting you drive home,” you say.
He turns to your cabinet and grabs out a couple wine glasses. “Is that okay with you?”
You nod, opening the bag he brought. Somehow, he’d gotten so comfortable here in your apartment that he was aware where you kept things. He knew what kind of Thai food you like, and if you were to taste it right now, you’d be willing to bet he knew the exact spice level you liked. He hasn’t acted weird at all since last weekend, and you’re beginning to wonder if you’re the problem. If the only reason all of these things are ‘weird’ because you’re making them that way. He seems perfectly content living whatever way the two of you have been for months now.
“Are you okay?” he asks as he fills the glasses with red liquid.
“Yeah, of course.” You accept one from him and bring it up to your lips. “Are you—Did you know you know where everything is in my apartment?”
He chuckles and scrunches his nose. “I wouldn’t say I know where everything is. But we study here all the time, so I think it’s natural to learn those things. Plus, I’m a fast learner.”
His words take you right back to last week, to him being in your bed with you, and you know damn well he’s right. Fast learner, indeed.
“I…I didn’t ask if I could do all of this, though.” Realization dawns on him as he takes in everything sprawled out on the counter. “I’m sorry, I should’ve. Honestly, I was just proud of you for passing because you’ve been working so hard. I never would do something with the intention of—”
“You ramble when you’re nervous.” You tilt your head at him.
“Long story short, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you tell him, putting your hand on his. “It’s sweet. I appreciate it, really.”
The two of you share normal, everyday conversation while you eat, and thankfully, the awkwardness fades away. You two easily finish the bottle of wine, and once you’re both done, you’re exhausted.
“You can stay with me,” you tell him. “Unless you’d be more comfortable on the couch.”
He shakes his head and follows you into your bedroom. Considering how much time he spends in there, you expect it to feel more natural to crawl into bed with him. The gentle buzz of the wine in your veins calms you, but when he’s finally next to you and you’re curling into his chest, you fear even that can’t save you from the inherent danger of the situation you’re putting yourself in.
You’ll never forget the look on his face when he first sees you naked. Nor will you forget the power it sent raging through your bloodstream. You’re straddling his lap, your mouth gently working on his as his hands explore over your back.
“Are you sure?” you ask breathlessly. “This isn’t something you can take back, you know.”
“I trust you completely. I want you.” Chenle nods as he drags his nails gently along your bare skin.
You grab the condom wrapper next to you and open it, your heart pounding in your chest as you roll it on him. His breath catches in his throat as you grip him to line him up with your entrance.
“Okay. We’re gonna do this.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He grips your hips to stop you from moving. “Don’t do this if you’re gonna regret it, (Y/N).”
“Like I could ever regret anything I do with you.” Humor laces in your tone, but he seems to understand it’s not a joke.
“Okay,” he whispers, loosening his hold on you.
You sink down slowly so as to not overwhelm him. His lips part and his brows furrow as you take him deeper. You stop to give yourself a second to adjust. The look on his face has shivers running up and down your spine, and all you want to do is move.
“This is…” he trails off, gulping.
“What?” You’re finally completely seated on his lap, gasps escaping you as you fight every urge inside you. “What is this, Lele?”
You’re halfway certain you see his eyes roll.
“I’ve never felt anything like this before,” he mutters and rubs up and down your thigh. “You…fuck, this feels…good.”
“I’m gonna start moving, okay?”
“Please.”
You watch closely as you lift up and slide back down, refusing to let your eyes flutter shut for even a moment. He inhales sharply through his teeth. It’s been a good amount of time since you’ve done this, and something about knowing the man beneath you is Chenle spurs you further.
He bites down hard on his bottom lip, digging his nails into you. “I—I can’t—”
“Don’t hold back for me,” you scold him. “It’s okay to cum first.”
“Too fast.” He shakes his head, his words practically slurred together. “You’re more important.”
“Do you know how unlikely it is that I’ll cum first in, like, the first few times—”
“You arguing is helping a little bit.” His gaze flicks up to the ceiling and then down to where the two of you are connected. “Or not. Fuck.”
“Worry about feeling it first before you think about stamina.” You roll your hips, smirking as he inhales sharply.
“I am…feeling a whole lot of things right now.” He allows his touch to trail down to your ass. When he squeezes, it causes you to lift up, and the friction has his head falling back against the wall with a thud.
“Good God, be careful,” you scold him.
“To be honest, I’m not too worried about this head.” He lets out a breathless laugh. “I’m good. You can move.”
“You can stop me if it’s too much,” you remind him.
He nods, chewing on his bottom lip as he waits for you to continue. You’re almost embarrassed by the sounds of your wetness when you lift up, but seeing him clench his jaw and the slightest eye roll puts you on a little bit of a power trip. You set a steady but slow pace, biting back your own moans so you can pay attention to him. It’s like a whine leaves his mouth every time your walls take him completely.
You pull him back to you so your chest presses against his and you wrap your arms over his shoulders. He leans in to kiss you without hesitation, his lips slotting against yours perfectly. You swipe your tongue along his bottom lip, and his moan allows you entrance. That sound turns into a whine, and you know he’s close. He desperately reaches between the two of you, his thumb swiping over your clit. The shock from the move has your back arching, and your walls squeeze around his cock.
His hips jolt up, slamming his tip deep inside you as his face contorts in pleasure. With his nails digging into your thighs, he pants, chest heaving.
“God damn it,” he groans.
“I’ve never seen anyone so upset about cumming.”
“I feel like I’m already behind. The least I can do is be good at it.” He runs his hands down his face. “You didn’t even—”
“This isn’t about me,” you remind him.
He frowns. “Uh, yes it is. I’m literally inside you right now. That means it’s definitely about you, too.”
“Lele, relax. You’ll get better with time.” You press a kiss to his cheek and shakily lift yourself off him.
He catches you off guard by pulling you back, and the next thing you know, your back is against your mattress, and his fingers trace shapes on your thighs.
“Haven’t you learned how competitive I am yet?” He runs his tongue over his teeth. “Can I?”
You’re not a hundred percent sure exactly what he’s referring to, but you nod anyway. When he kisses you, it’s soft and sweet, almost distracting enough to make it hard for you to realize how close his fingers dance to your core.
“One day you’ll cum with me inside you,” he whispers into your mouth. “The fucking lengths I’d go to.”
He wastes no time in sliding two fingers in. Your back arches into him, and you hold the back of his head to keep his lips on yours. He didn’t lie when he said he was a fast learner—you told him how to make sure you feel good too one time and he fucking ran with it. With his thumb on your clit, he kisses down your neck. You have no idea what’s happening to you, but you’ve never been like this with anyone. Maybe it’s because you trust him, too.
His lips wrap around your nipple and the world comes crashing down around you as pleasure sparks over your skin. You gasp and dig your nails into his skin. When your senses come back, he’s pulling his fingers out of you and moving up to kiss you again, the softness of his movements making you sigh all over again.
“(Y/N), I think I—” he cuts himself off, wetting his lips.
Your heart stops in your chest when you hear his tone, and half of you wants to ask him to continue. The other knows damn well you shouldn’t.
“I…don’t really know what to do with the condom.”
You can’t stop yourself from laughing, but you tell him the proper disposal method. When he comes back, he pulls your comforter back and helps you under it before climbing in next to you.
“Is it okay if I stay?” he asks softly. “If it’s weird, I can go.”
“Don’t.” You shake your head, shuffling closer. “It feels right.”
“Yeah, it does.” His voice is so soft, you barely hear it. He presses his lips to the top of your head, leaving them there for a moment longer than necessary, and then he inhales deeply. You drift off to sleep before you fully feel him exhale.
Despite the obvious, you hadn’t expected Chenle to be completely normal in all other circumstances. He hasn’t touched you excessively in front of other people. When you’re focusing on studying, he doesn’t try to make a move on you. Over the course of two weeks, you’d spent most of those nights with him, teaching him all there is to know about female anatomy.
He didn’t lie about being a fast learner. You find yourself looking forward to the moments where you’re alone with him, where you get to be tangled up in sheets and forget the rest of the world exists.
There have been a few times where he’d gotten you close to finishing first, but much to his frustration, he still couldn’t hold back.
You’d convinced him to go to Jaemin’s party while he was in the middle of kissing your neck. And as a thank you, you’d shown him the wonders of a blowjob. By the time he’s ready for a relationship, you’re sure he’ll have nothing to worry about.
Except, you do. Because the thought of him dating someone else after spending this time with you has an unsettling feeling stirring in your stomach.
You ignore it the best way you know how—by talking to someone else you’ll pretend to entertain. Sitting between Jeno and Chenle’s friend Mark, you laugh along to whatever they’re talking about. Truth be told, you have no fucking clue what that may be, but they’re encouraged by you.
Chenle sits across from you, trying his best not to stare. He nurses his drink and talks to Jisung, but his attention is never truly off you. The second Jeno’s hand comes in contact with your thigh, Chenle abruptly stands from his seat and practically stomps out without a word to anyone.
You frown at Jisung, who shrugs. He’s not much help after he’s been drinking. With a sigh, you get up and follow him wherever he may have gone. You see the top of his head as he makes his way toward the door through the crowd.
He makes it outside and down the porch steps before you catch up to him and grab his wrist.
“Let me go.” His voice is colder than you’ve ever heard it.
“What the hell is your problem?” you snap.
He whirls around, eyes wide and full of something you can’t make out. “I get you can still do whatever—whoever—you want, but right in front of me? Do you have any idea how fucking—God, it’s embarrassing.”
“Oh, now you’re embarrassed of me?” You scoff.
“Not for you. For me.” He most likely has no clue he’s shouting, but his breath leaves a frigid cloud in the air. “Am I not good enough for you?”
“Chenle, keep your fucking voice down,” you hiss.
He sucks in a shaky breath. “How? I—I don’t know how to handle any of this. We agreed it doesn’t…mean much, but doesn’t it fucking mean something?”
Your heart trembles in your chest, and you gulp. How do you respond to that? Of course, it means something, but what that is, you’re unsure of. How do you tell him that?
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he asks, exasperated.
You recoil, frowning as you take him in.
“Go ahead and fuck Jeno, (Y/N). It’s not my business, right? I have no reason to be upset. At the very least, just act like you care about me a little bit, alright? I don’t want to see you…want someone else.”
“I do care,” you say quickly, grabbing his wrist. “It’s not like that, okay?”
“So, what is it?” he breathes out, a short laugh escaping his throat. “Are you tired of teaching me? You want someone who’s better?”
“Stop.”
“What the hell else am I supposed to think? Will I ever be enough for you—”
“I said stop.” You don’t mean to yell, not really, but as soon as the words leave your mouth, you slap a hand over it.
Chenle flinches, realization quickly dawning on his face. “I’m sorry. God, I don’t know what the fuck that was, and it’s definitely not my place to tell you—”
“Just stop,” you say weakly, blinking back the tears welling in your eyes. “Don’t do this to me.”
“Fuck, don’t cry. Please.” He steps forward and wraps his arms around you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of that shit. You don’t owe me anything, okay? We both know that and we both know you’re doing me a fucking favor, so I’m gonna be better, I promise. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”
“Maybe we should stop.” You wipe at your eyes.
“What? Why?”
“I don’t think you’re being honest with me, Lele.” You sniffle. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“(Y/N), I—I’m drunk, for fuck’s sake. And, yeah, I’m a fucking idiot who tried to…control you and what you do with your body, and that’s so messed up. I’m really sorry for that. But honestly, it’s pride and ego. It felt like I wasn’t…like I don’t give you what you need, so you’ve gotta find it from someone else. That’s all.”
“I wanna go home.”
“Okay, we can go—”
“You need to go home, too.” You look down at your feet. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay with me tonight.”
“Don’t do this—”
“It’s one night. You need to respect what I’m asking for.”
He stares at you with wide, concerned eyes.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I think you should go back in there with Jisung, and he’ll make sure you get home in one piece.”
“(Y/N)...”
“Goodnight, Chenle.”
Being alone in your house makes you regret your decision to send him home. You barely drank at all, so you can’t blame any of your emotions on the alcohol content in your bloodstream. God, how do you describe what the fuck is going on inside you?
Chenle keeps his distance from you for a few days. You and Jisung are splitting some drinks in his apartment when he decides to bring it up, analyzing you for your reaction as he speaks.
“Did something happen with you and Chenle?”
“Why do you think that?” You take a giant sip of your drink, cringing at the taste.
“Don’t do that. I was being nice. I know something happened because I saw you guys argue outside the party, and he’s been a miserable lump for four days now.” Jisung crosses his arms over his chest. “You hurt his feelings.”
“I don’t want to talk about Chenle.”
“And what if you fail physics, dude?”
“Jisung, fuck physics.” You drop your head into your palms. “I invited you over to drink and not think about the real world. So if you’re going to bring him up, please just go home.”
“Oh.” Jisung pauses, slowly leaning forward until his elbows are braced on his knees. “(Y/N).”
“No, Jisung. No. I just…want peace, okay? I can’t do this right now.” You shake your head.
“Alright.” Jisung stands. “I’ll leave you alone. But we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
You don’t say a word as he leaves, but you do chug the rest of what’s in your can. Chenle hasn’t so much as texted you. Why would you want to talk about him? Doesn’t Jisung know how royally fucked everything is between the two of you. Instead of going to bed like you should, you sit on your couch and stare up at your ceiling, occasionally pausing to take a sip of the new drink you opened. By the time your door opens again, you think you’re dreaming. You see Chenle in front of you, and in your hazy mind, you want nothing more than to touch his ethereal, angelic face.
“Hey,” he whispers. “Are you okay?”
You groan, sniffling.
“C’mon, you gotta get some sleep.” His words make your head whirl even more.
“Lele?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re real?”
“Yeah, baby, I’m real.” His voice sinks into your skin, and you lean into him immediately.
“Help.” You hold your hands out to him.
He loops his arm around your waist and guides you into your bedroom. “How much did you drink?”
“Not a lot,” you mutter, your words slurring together. “I’ve had more.”
He scoffs. “You’re ridiculous.”
You flop into your bed, and you swear your sheets still smell like him. He should be tangled up with you every night, holding you close to him like you’re the only thing that matters. You should be. The only thing. Chenle hesitates before climbing in next to you.
“I don’t want to stop,” you whisper as his chest settles against your back. “We’re both fucking stupid if we want other people.”
“Sh.” He makes the gesture so softly, you almost miss it. “We’ll talk tomorrow, baby. Get some sleep.”
You wake to lips on your shoulder. Shuffling closer to Chenle, you groan at the brightness of the sun.
“Careful,” he mutters, squeezing his arm around your waist.
“What time is it?”
“Ten.”
“What?” You attempt to shoot up in bed, but you groan and slump back in your spot. “Fuck. Don’t we have class?”
“We had class, yeah.” Chenle tightens his grip around you and traces shapes on your hip. “I didn’t want to leave you alone.”
You remember Chenle telling you he’d never missed a class in his life. How he’d always known how important every single lesson was, and how he’d never miss for something unimportant.
“I’m sorry,” you tell him.
He frowns. “What for?”
“I did it on purpose. Well, not really. But I was trying to distance myself from you because we were…I don’t know, spending a lot of time together. It was fucking weird.”
“Do you not want that?” he asks.
“I do. And it’s weird that I do.” You bury yourself in his chest. “Can we forget everything today? I just want you.”
“Of course,” he whispers. “That sounds perfect.”
His arms wrap around you, a deep hum escaping him as he rests his head on top of yours. You breathe him in. You wonder what it’ll take to get through your own confusion, and if it’s even worth dragging him along with you. His fingertips comb through your hair. And for the first time in weeks, the only movement between the two of you is steady breathing.
A few more days pass, and the two of you haven’t resumed despite agreeing not to stop. You assume he’s too awkward to ask, and he’s awaiting your nudge to tell him it’s okay. But you realized that part of him gaining confidence is about letting him figure it out.
You’re sitting on your couch with his head in your lap, fingers sifting through his hair as the TV plays quietly in front of you. A lot of time spent with him feels oddly domestic. You’ve never let Jisung lay on you like this, so what exactly is the extent of what’s running through your mind?
He shifts on his back, grabbing your hand. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
He sits up and faces you, gaze traveling over you briefly. “Are we…You said you wanted to stop, and then you said you didn’t want to stop. And we never talked about it. So, please don’t think I’m trying to pressure you or anything, but I think it’s worth a conversation.”
“You’re right.” You cross your legs and turn toward him. “What the hell was all of that?”
“I really don’t know. Like, logically, you weren’t doing anything to spite me, but it just…felt like I’d never be good enough. Not just for you but for anyone. It wasn’t fair of me to take that out on you, and you’re obviously more than welcome to do whatever the hell you want with your body.”
“What part of you isn’t good enough?”
He sighs and clasps his hands together. “C’mon, (Y/N), I haven’t been able to make you finish first. And you can say whatever you want, but it’s gotta be frustrating—”
“Chenle.” You shuffle closer to him. “If it were frustrating, do you really think I’d keep going back for more? You still take the time to make sure I’m good, even if it’s not before you, which is more than what a lot of guys can say. Relax.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why that’s immediately where I went when I saw that guy touch you. To be honest, I’ve never…felt anything like that before. And it scared me, so I figured it’d be better to leave.” He picks at the seam of his jeans.
“Is it okay if I kiss you?” you ask.
Chenle nods, glancing down at your lips. You give him a small smile before leaning in and pressing your mouth to his. He sighs as if he’s melting into you, and his hand moves to the back of your head.
“I missed this,” he murmurs.
“Me, too,” you admit.
No matter how much you want to, you don’t push further. You wait for him to make that decision. He pulls away briefly as if to analyze you, and then he moves back in with determination. Without a word, you allow him to guide you until your back is against the couch cushions.
You throw your arm around his shoulders and pull him closer. With a gentle roll of his hips, his clothed length presses against you. He kisses down your neck, gently nipping at your skin. Finally, he lifts up to press his lips to your ear.
“You know, people radiate more thermally per volume than the sun.” His hand trails down your body, slipping into your shorts to cup your core over your panties. “And you’ve got me fucking addicted to you, for fuck’s sake.”
“Did you just tell me a physics fact right now?” You quirk an eyebrow at him.
He grins. “Yeah, I did. It felt like it fit the situation.”
“It’s so fucking weird that I found that hot.” And then you pull him back into a kiss while you roll against his hand.
“Oh, good.” He moves your panties aside and slides his fingers along your entrance. “Can I go down on you?”
“Huh?” Your eyes shoot open and you grab his wrist.
“You’ve gone down on me, but I’ve never…” He gulps and nudges your clit with his fingertips. “Do you not want me to?”
“I’m just…shocked.” You let out a shaky breath as he circles you. “That you want to.”
“I want anything that’ll make you feel good.” He pulls at the hem of your panties, only to let them smack back against your skin.
“You know I’m not gonna say no.” You lift your hips to encourage him to undress you.
He smirks and removes his hand from your core. “I like to hear you want me.”
“Can you do me a favor?” You trace along his bottom lip, entranced in the thought of his head between your thighs.
“Anything.”
“Keep the glasses on when you do it.”
He raises an eyebrow, but you’re quickly distracted by the way he tugs your shorts and panties off in one movement. You’re not sure where the determination on his face comes from—or the confidence and knowledge—but he starts by pressing open mouthed kisses around your inner thigh.
“You’re so pretty everywhere,” he mutters, tongue running along your skin.
You let your head drop back against the couch and reach to card your fingers through his hair. He hums into you as he trails closer and closer to your core. You usually try to refrain from squirming too much or letting him know just how fucking needy you are, but the thought of his lips on you is driving you up the fucking wall.
“Lele, don’t tease me,” you whine, shifting so you can see him.
His gaze flicks up, a look within you’ve never seen before. You did something to him, and you’re more than ready to find out. He narrows his eyes slightly as he analyzes you before he dips his head back down. His tongue starts at your entrance, and he flattens it and moves upward until he takes your clit in his mouth.
You gasp, wanting nothing more than to throw your head back, but you refuse—you need to see him. He sucks on your bud and flicks it with his tongue, and you grip his hair.
“I didn’t fucking teach you that,” you say breathlessly, chest heaving.
He pulls away just long enough to say, “Porn isn’t completely useless now, is it?”
You’re dazed already, watching as he pleasures you. He moans against you, and the vibrations course through you. You’re not sure what made you ask him to keep the glasses on, but you’re appreciating it now more than ever—he’s between your legs with his face buried in the very apex of your thighs, and every time you squirm, you feel the thick frames of his glasses.
“Fingers,” you tell him. “Fuck, use your fingers.”
He doesn’t let up, immediately listening and thrusting two inside you. Your back arches as you moan and push him further against you. Everything becomes a blur, and when he curls his fingers just the way you taught him, you’re practically thrashing beneath him.
A strangely masculine scream robs your body of the high you were two seconds away from, and Chenle freezes and lifts himself to cover a bit more of you. Embarrassment floods through your body.
“What the fuck?” Jisung shouts, hands slapped over his eyes. “(Y/N), I sit on that couch!”
“That’s really what you’re worried about?” You scoff and grab the throw blanket from the back. Chenle helps you spread it out so he can safely move away from his spot. You cover him, too, considering the noticeable bulge in his pants.
“You should save all sexual activity for your bedroom—”
“Says the guy who was telling me how he fucked a girl on the kitchen counter,” you shoot back. “We’re covered.”
He drops his hands from his eyes and shivers like this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.
“I’m gonna puke. Chenle, wipe your fucking mouth.” Jisung clenches his eyes shut and shakes his head. “What the fuck?”
Chenle’s ears turn pink, and he uses the blanket to remove what’s left of your arousal from his face. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you study him—
“My God, are you gonna eat him alive?” Jisung scolds you. “Right in front of me? I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me you’re together.”
You and Chenle exchange glances before you both look back at Jisung.
“No. No, no, no.” He drops his head into his hands. “You mean to tell me you’re not?”
“Can we do this later?” you ask.
“What?”
“I agree,” Chenle adds. “You should come back in like an hour. Or two. Because to be honest, I don’t really care if you’re here or not, I’m gonna fuck her.”
Everything inside you heats up again, and you gape at Chenle. Jisung lets out a dramatic scream and slams the door behind him.
“What the hell was that?” You push Chenle’s shoulder.
“The truth,” he says. “I want you so fucking bad right now.”
“Well, you’d better hurry up and put this extra time to good use.” You lean forward and kiss him hard, holding onto the back of his neck. He inhales sharply but wastes no time in reciprocating. With one quick movement, the blanket once covering you is tossed to the floor, and he’s between your legs.
While his mouth works against yours, he almost frantically moves his hands beneath your shirt and only breaks where you’re connected to pull it off. His urgency takes you off-guard, but you can’t deny the thrill running through your veins and the wetness rushing to your core.
You grab at his shirt, and he sits up on his knees to take it off. Practically lunging forward, you unbutton his pants. As soon as his zipper’s down, he grabs your wrist.
“Turn around.”
“Huh?” you ask.
“Turn around,” he repeats. “You know what I want.”
With anyone else, you’d be embarrassed by how much his request turned you on. You flip over and lift yourself to your knees. You arch your back and let your head rest against the couch cushion, and his groan reverberates through your entire being.
His hands grip your ass, nails digging in as he squeezes hard. “Do you have any fucking idea how bad I wanted you to cum on my tongue?”
“Was pretty close.” You push back against him.
“Think he’s listening?” Chenle asks, tapping your hip before flattening his palm over your stomach. “Just a little curious about us, huh?”
His touch burns against you in the best ways, and after being as close as you were, you’re desperate for him to make you finish. You cry out when he puts two fingers on your clit and rubs slow circles. Gripping onto the cushion below you, you rock your hips in rhythm with him.
“You said you’re on birth control, right?” he murmurs, seemingly distracted by the way your arousal coats his skin.
You nod fervently.
“Is…” He pauses, cursing under his breath. “No condom is okay? I can, um, finish inside you?”
Your eyes roll back. “Fuck, of course, you can. I need you right now.”
He shuffles behind you, and you wish you could see what he was doing. His fingers slow, but your whine is cut short when he slides his length against you to collect the wetness.
“A-and there’s…no risk?” He gulps.
“C’mon, you little science nerd, you know there’s always a risk.” You chuckle airly. “That’s part of what makes it fun.”
He hums and removes his fingers from you, grabbing his cock and jerking himself off a few times before lining up with your entrance.
“You’re sure this is okay, baby?” Chenle’s free hand squeezes your ass again.
“For fuck’s sake, Lele, please—” You’re cut off by his tip ever so slowly stretching you to accommodate him. You gasp, immediately pushing back to take more of him. This angle has you seeing stars. Once he bottoms out, he lets out a long moan.
“So good,” he whines, just barely rocking his hips. “You’re so fucking good.”
He reaches around you again to circle your clit, and then he starts to thrust. Your eyes roll and your body melts, everything around you becoming blurry as he sets a steady pace that has your toes curling.
You attempt to assist him, every time he’s entering you, you push back to take him harder. One hand grips your hip, and the other frantically works between your legs. You can’t even think straight, moans pouring out in unison with his. A knot starts to form in your stomach, and you attempt to shut your thighs.
“‘M close.” You gasp, legs beginning to shake. “Fuck, ‘m gonna—”
You let out your loudest moan yet as you spasm around him, overwhelmed from the pleasure. Sensitivity sets in quickly, but you need him to cum inside you. He lets out a high pitched noise, and the next thing you know, he’s pressing his hips against you, burying himself as deep as he can to fill you with his load.
Both of you pant, unable to move for a moment. Once he regains some of his composure, he slowly pulls out of you, sighing at the feeling. He turns you on your back and kisses you slow, his lips working to part yours as he slides his tongue in.
You smile, unable to hold it back when you think of how much he’s learned in such a short period of time.
“You did it,” you tease him.
“That was the best fucking feeling in the world,” he tells you. “I’m never cumming first again.”
You laugh and push at his shoulder. “That’s not really something you get to just manifest into the universe.”
“Maybe not.” He shrugs, sheepishly grinning at you. “You want new clothes?”
“It’d be really great if you could grab me a towel, actually.”
“A towel?” He frowns.
“You see, Lele, when you fuck raw, messes occur.” You chuckle. “That’s a good thought for the future. Aftercare includes towels.”
“The future?” He quirks an eyebrow.
“I just meant—” Your face heats up. “Like, whoever you end up with. It’s important.”
“Right.” The playful gleam on his face fades, and as he leans back to get up and retrieve what you need, he stops to stare at the apex of your thighs. “It comes out.”
You slap a hand over your mouth to stop the abrupt laugh. “Yes, it does. What did you think happened? It magically gets absorbed into vagina land?”
“Well…yeah.” He shrugs, wetting his lips. “But this is so much hotter. I might get hard again.”
“You psycho, go get a towel.” You push at him, and he bursts into laughter as he tucks himself back in his boxers and jeans before heading toward your bathroom.
When he comes back, he helps you clean up. His touch is tender, gentle, and it makes you want to wrap him up in your blankets and stay in your bed all day with him. He grabs the throw blanket from the floor, lays down on top of you, and rests his head on your chest. You hum in content and run your fingers through his hair.
You’re not sure how long the two of you stay like that, but you find yourself drifting off to sleep. Just before you do, a phone vibrates on the coffee table. Chenle groans.
“Who’s is it?” you ask.
He lifts his head to look. “Mine. The one time it actually rings—should I just ignore it?”
“No, it’s okay.” You sigh and rub your eyes. “Answer.”
He kisses your forehead before getting up. After he has the blanket on you again, he reaches for his phone and answers it.
“Yeah?”
As soon as the other person speaks, he tenses and sits straight up.
“That was today? Are you still there? I’m so sorry, I can be there in fifteen minutes if that works.” He pauses and massages his forehead. “Yeah, I understand. It won’t happen again.”
After a few more moments of listening, Chenle hangs up the phone. He curses and reaches down to grab his shirt from the floor. When he turns to you, you’re watching him with a concerned look on your face.
“One of my professors assigned a group project, and we were supposed to present today. Like…twenty minutes ago. It’s literally twenty percent of my fucking grade.” Despite his anxious energy, he gives you a gentle kiss. “I’m so sorry, babe, I’ll come back later, okay?”
You don’t have time to answer, because he grabs his wallet and keys and bolts out the door. Not that you would’ve been able to anyway—shock courses through you at the pet name. Sure, he says things during sex, but the two of you have never…nicknamed each other outside of that.
You sit up in confusion and scratch the top of your head. What the fuck is going on with you and Chenle?
After you shower and get dressed, you go over to Jisung’s. You’re glad Chenle won’t have to sit through this. When you’re on Jisung’s couch with a bowl of popcorn, he begins his in-depth interview.
“You’re not dating?”
“Nope.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Jisung,” you deadpan. “I think it’s pretty obvious. He’s helping me with physics, and I’m helping him—”
“Did he say you had to—”
“Park Jisung, this is Chenle you’re talking about. You really think he’s capable of something like that?” You put another handful of popcorn in your mouth.
“Fine. Then tell me how it started. I can’t believe you’ve kept this from me. Your best friend. I tell you when I hook up with people.” He frowns at you.
“Well, one day, we were doing physics homework.”
“Wow, so sexy.”
“Shut up.” You send a glare his way. “Anyway, he was telling me about the ever-expanding universe or whatever, and…like, when he gets super passionate about something, he’s attractive. Like more than usual, you know? So, I asked him why he hadn’t ever dated anyone before.”
“And then you banged him?” Jisung purses his lips. “That’s…well, to be fair, I kind of expected that portion of it.”
You flip him off. “No, that’s not how it happened. Just listen, would you?”
“Fine, fine.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender.
“He said he didn’t have any prospects so obviously I was like…be for real, dude. He’s…attractive, you know? And then he said he was busy, and then I asked what about hooking up with people? Because you can still hook up and not date.”
“That kinda sounds like he was making excuses for not wanting to date.”
“Yeah, maybe. But he was also a virgin.”
“What?” Jisung’s jaw drops, and he drags his hands down his face. “(Y/N), are you insane? He’s probably unhealthily obsessed with you—”
“He showed up the next day and asked me to…teach him how to have sex. And I’d been dickless for…shit, months at least, so of course, I said yes.” You purse your lips and stare down at your lap. “He’s still learning.”
“When was this?”
“Um…” you hesitate, fidgeting with your fingers. “Remember that party where you said you saw us all angry and stuff?”
“Yeah?”
“Like, a few weeks before that.”
“Holy fucking shit, (Y/N), you’ve been fucking him for that long?” Your best friend lets out an exasperated sigh. “You realize he’s in love with you, right?”
Your head shoots up and you stare at the man on the couch. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m sorry, but no dude like him is gonna be able to stop himself from falling in love with a girl he’s been fucking for months. Guys are really oddly attached to their firsts, you know. And that reaction at the party. He’s been missing classes. It’s like you’ve taken over his whole life.”
The rose-colored glasses shatter, and you recall what happened just hours before. He’d missed the presentation of his project. Your throat closes in on itself and you slap a hand to your forehead. Sure, you asked him to tell you if he was starting to catch feelings, but you should’ve known better than to think he’d even realize it before it was too late.
“If you don’t even have a smidge of feelings for him, you’ve gotta stop all of this. For his sake.” Jisung moves over to you so he can give you a supportive hug. “You know he deserves someone who will love him.”
“He’s not in love with me,” you say quickly. “I’ll prove it to you. You’ll see at the party this weekend. He’ll pull some random girl.”
“Sure…” he trails off. “We’ll see, I guess.”
You don’t want to stop.
That’s the only thing whirling through your head when Chenle tells you he’s on his way back to you. Your nerves churn until you’re sick to your stomach, but there’s not a damn thing you can do to change it. He’d never tell you if he got feelings for you. You should’ve known better than to expect that from him. After all, you guys spend nearly every day together, and you don’t have sex all of those days. Or learn physics. Sometimes, the two of you just lay on your bed together, your head buried in his neck, legs tangled until you don’t know which ones are yours anymore.
If he doesn’t put up a fight, it means Jisung was wrong. And that also means you don’t have to distance yourself. If he does…
“(Y/N)?” His voice carries from your living room.
“In here,” you call out to him.
Chenle’s footsteps are barely audible as he makes his way over to you. His form takes up the door frame, where he pauses to study you. He lets his backpack fall from his shoulder, and then he’s climbing onto your bed. With a long sigh, he finds his spot next to you and wraps his arm around your middle.
“That bad?” you ask.
He shakes his head. “I just can’t believe I forgot that.”
You pause for a moment, and the two of you are cascaded into a blanket of silence. He must sense the awkwardness in the air, given the way he gulps and his heart rate speeds up. You lean back to get a good view of his face.
“Why did you?” you ask quietly.
“What?”
“Forget. Why did you forget?”
He blinks, lips parting while he searches for something to say. “I…I don’t know. Honestly, I’ve never done something like that before. I’m glad the teacher still let me present, otherwise I would’ve lost my top spot. And I think that’s the only reason why she did.”
“And you were…okay with that?” You recoil.
“At the time, it really freaked me out.” He frowns. “But even if I lost the top spot, I’d still be in the top ten, so…(Y/N)?”
You roll away from him and out of his grasp, planting your feet on the floor. An overwhelming guilt floods you as you bury your head in your hands. The man in your bed just a couple months ago would’ve dropped dead at a statement like that. He could’ve gone on for hours about how important that spot was to him, and what the hell’s he willing to give that up for?
“Are you okay?” Chenle sits up behind you, fingertips brushing your arm.
“We have to stop.” It was supposed to come out much stronger than it did, but at least you didn’t have to look at him.
“Wha—how did that even—why?” He adjusts to sit next to you, eyebrows furrowed.
“Do you even hear yourself right now?” you snap. “What the fuck is top ten to someone like you? School has been everything to you, and you’re forgetting projects like it means nothing. Have you even been doing your work? You’re with me all the time, and the only thing you’ve been doing school wise is helping me with physics.”
“It was one time, (Y/N), okay?”
“Now you’re lying to me,” you groan in exasperation.
“I…” He gulps and turns his head away from you.
“I told you to tell me if you ever caught feelings, Chenle.” You blink back tears and chew the inside of your cheek while you await his response.
But no matter how much you wait, it doesn’t come. His hands are clasped together in his lap, and he stares down at them, inhaling shaky breaths.
“My God, you’re not even denying it.” You stand up, unable to stop yourself from pacing around the room. “This is what’s making you all complacent about school? Seriously? This is the exact reason you said you didn’t want to date. Or find someone to sleep with, because you didn’t have time—”
“I actually said it was because I hadn’t found anyone worth it,” he finally speaks up, gaze finally lifting to meet yours. “What did you expect would happen? You really thought the virgin would be able to stop himself from falling for you after everything we’ve done? I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted, or if you wanted me to tell you, but by the time I actually realized what was happening, it was too late. I’d lose you. In all aspects, not just…whatever the hell this is.”
“You need to go.”
“After all of this, you don’t even…not even a little bit?”
You do. How do you tell him no and lie right to his face?
“I just put everything out there. The least you can do at this point is tell me if all of this only meant something to me.” Desperation tugs on his features, and he takes a step closer to you. “Did you spend every night with me and still not…”
“Stop,” you shout. “What the hell are you thinking? What is it that you want me to say? It doesn’t matter if I do or don’t have feelings for you, because I would never—”
“Date me?” he interrupts you. “Love me? What’s so bad about either of those things? I’m trying my best out here.”
“Would you let me finish?” You run your fingers through your hair. “I was going to say I would never let you give up your number one spot for any girl. Not just me. Because that’s fucking stupid. And you’re not stupid, Chenle, so you need to remember what’s actually important.”
“(Y/N), please. I can’t go back to how things were. Not when I know what all of this is like.”
“Then maybe we just don’t talk at all.” You clench your fists at your side. The idea breaks your own heart. “It’s not like we have any classes together. The only time we see each other is here anyway.”
“You haven’t denied it, either.” He’s directly in front of you now, watery eyes staring into yours. “You made a big deal of me not denying it, but you haven’t either.”
“Get out.” You point toward your door. “Leave me alone. Just go.”
Now he’s speechless, and the hurt on his face plays out right in front of you. You want to yell and scream because you’re the one causing this. You should’ve seen this coming. When he first approached you and asked you for this, you should’ve said no. If you had turned him away, things would be normal. He wouldn’t have turned complacent about the thing he once cared the most about. But what did that mean? Was it you he was willing to give it up for, or was it the freedom and new experiences you provided?
“You…what about your exam? It’s only a couple weeks before the end of the semester.”
“Don’t worry about me or my grades when you’re not even thinking of your own. Please, Chenle, just go. I’ll bring Jisung here if I have to.” You sniffle, rolling your eyes.
His jaw tightens as he glances up at the ceiling. “Fine. I…Clearly, nothing I say is gonna—yeah. I guess I’ll see you around.”
He grabs his backpack from the floor and slings it over his shoulder, and as soon as he closes the door behind him, you climb into your bed, grab the pillow he always uses, and cradle it to your chest. You don’t mean to let yourself cry, but once you start, you can’t stop.
You barely even remembered telling Jisung that Chenle would go to the party that weekend. To be honest, you’d told him about it, but hope that he won’t come gnaws at the edges of your heart. In all honesty, you didn’t even want to go. And if your best friend hadn’t practically forced you out of bed and to get dressed, you wouldn’t have.
You and Jisung went separate ways once you arrived at Jaemin’s house. Absent-mindedly, you find yourself in the kitchen, mixing a drink. The only way you’ll get through the night is with liquor. Once you walk back towards the living room, you see Jisung standing at the corner. He grins when he notices you.
“Dude, I so thought you were fucking with me. I’ll give it to you though, I guess you were right. You must be a good tutor.” Jisung lets out an obnoxious laugh. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
“What are you talking about?” You frown.
He nods his head in the opposite direction, and when you follow his gaze, you immediately tense. Of course, Chenle did show up. Not only that, but he’s in full-on conversation with a girl you don’t recognize. Your throat tightens, but you swiftly attempt to ignore it with a quick sip of your drink.
“Never thought he’d get there,” Jisung evaluates him. “She looks like she’s into him.”
“Great.” You try your best not to sound sarcastic.
Jisung side eyes you, but he doesn’t say anything else. He crosses his arms over his chest and proceeds to watch Chenle, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to look in his direction. Your desire to be at this party has significantly decreased, and all you want to do is walk out and forget you ever saw him here. But it doesn’t matter either way—you sent him away. You have no right to be jealous or upset that he’s doing exactly what you taught him to do. If he wants to find a girlfriend or a fling, that’s up to him. And neither option should make you upset, no matter how much you can’t deny that it very much does.
“Oh, shit,” Jisung mutters, a chuckle escaping him.
Your head shoots in Chenle’s direction, and you bristle at the sight. He whispers something in the girl’s ear, and she laughs. Your chest tightens, somewhat desperate to know what he said to her—if it was any of the things he’s ever said to you. Maybe it was something you taught him. He leans away from her, but not all the way. The smile drops from her face, and you know immediately what’s about to happen. You push your cup against Jisung’s chest until he takes it from you.
“I can’t do this.” You shake your head and bolt in the opposite direction, toward the front door. Tears well in your eyes, but they only serve to piss you off. You shouldn’t care—you told him you didn’t.
Jisung drove you, so there’s nowhere for you to go except the front porch. You sit down on the top step, head buried in your palms. Taking a deep breath, you look up in time to see Karina walking out of the house with her keys.
“Are you going home?” you ask.
“Yeah, tonight’s kinda lame.” She scans over you and purses her lips. “You want a ride? I didn’t drink.”
“Fuck, yes. Please.” You launch up and follow Karina to her car.
Thankfully, she doesn’t ask you any questions on the way to your place. As you thank her and step out of the car, she grabs your wrist.
“I think I know what’s going on.” She pauses. “If there’s something you want, (Y/N), you shouldn’t let it go. Because you’ll regret it, okay?”
You nod and gulp. “Thanks, Rina.”
She lets you go and smiles. You close the car door behind you and head up to your apartment, questioning how you let yourself get into this predicament. Why the you from a few months ago didn’t have any clue how easy it would be to fall for someone like Chenle—a man with a kind heart, who cares for you and your wellbeing. You stare at your phone like it’ll light up from his text message, but you put a decent wedge between the two of you with your last conversation. Would he even look at his phone if you texted him? Maybe he’s already taking that girl home. He may learn it wasn’t even you he fell for, but the sex. And when he has sex with another girl, he’ll figure out you’re not special, and—
“God fucking damn it,” you groan, angrily wiping at your tears. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”
Your phone vibrates, but it’s a call from Jisung. You sniffle and clear your throat before answering.
“Yeah?”
“Where the hell did you go?” he snaps.
“I’m at home,” you tell him. “Rina drove me home.”
“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?” Jisung’s annoyance creeps through. “You just stormed out, but I figured you’d at least tell me if you were leaving the area.”
“Sungs, I’m not really in the mood to be yelled at right now.” You can’t hide the crack in your voice.
“Are you okay?” His voice instantly softens. “Is this about—”
“Don’t. I don’t want anyone else you’re with to know. It’s humiliating, isn’t it? Teaching a man everything you know for him to use it other places.” You chuckle, staring up at your ceiling.
“You wanna tell me what happened?” Jisung sighs. “Because you clearly didn’t want him talking to that girl.”
“You’re making me sound pathetic.”
“Uh.”
“Fuck you, Park Jisung.” You roll your eyes. “You’re not helping.”
“Do you want me to come over?” he asks.
“Stay at the party. I’ll be okay.” You grab Chenle’s pillow and pull it to your chest. “Is he…did he leave?”
“He’s not with her, if that’s what you’re asking. He left. By himself. After I figured out you were gone, I kinda freaked out and there was like…a search party. He didn’t care much about her after that.”
“He’s so annoying,” you huff out. “Why couldn’t he have just…fucked that girl or something?”
“Like you wouldn’t have crumbled to dust at the literal thought of that.” Jisung scoffs. “I know you, (Y/N), and no matter what you say, there’s no way you feel absolutely nothing for him. You’re both suffering because of the denial, you know.”
“What if it’s not really me he wants? Like…what if he just likes the sex and doesn’t realize it yet?” You shake your head.
Jisung lets out a long sigh. “He’s not a child, okay? Just because he hasn’t had sex before or dated anyone doesn’t mean he doesn’t know what that feels like, dude.”
Before you answer, the knock on your front door takes you off guard. You sit up and throw the blanket off your body. Jisung mutters something in the background, but you can’t focus on what he’s saying. When you open the door, you almost stop breathing. You put the phone back up to your ear. “Jisung, let me call you back.”
He doesn’t even have time to respond before you hang up and toss it over to the side. Through the dark, Chenle stares back at you. His fists clench and unclench as he stands there in silence, clearly unsure what to say.
“What are you doing here?” you ask.
“I can’t fucking do this,” he replies. “I need you, okay? Don’t try and lie to me and say you have no feelings for me, because I saw you today. When I acted that way about you and Jeno, you asked me if I had feelings for you. Is that ‘cause you have them, too?”
“Yes.”
“Can you just be honest with—huh?” His brows furrow and his eyes narrow.
“You want the truth, Chenle? Yes. Yes, I like you, but I’m not letting you jeopardize your schooling for any of this. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“I’ll be better,” he says. “I was just…distracted. It felt like every moment with you was fleeting, and I had to get every second I could before you disappeared.” He steps inside your apartment and closes the door.
“Lele, that’s such a big risk.” You feel like you’re shrinking in on yourself. How do you tell yourself it’s okay to be selfish this time if he doesn’t have to give anything up to be with you?
“And I get that. I do. But it’s worth it. You’re worth it. And I don’t want to let you go just because we’re still in school. We can have something real. Honestly, we’ve had that this whole time, and you trying to say we didn’t is doing us both a disservice.”
“What happened with that girl today?” you ask.
“You know what that was. A whole lot of fucking nothing.” He runs his fingers through his hair and wets his lips. “I didn’t even kiss her, by the way. I couldn’t. Seriously, I wanted to because I needed to know if these…feelings I have for you are real. Maybe that’s an awful way to do it, but I figured if I kissed someone else and it felt the same, then I’d be okay without you.”
You don’t say a word. His eyebrows furrow.
“I wanted to kiss her because I thought it’d give me the answer I desperately needed, not because I wanted her specifically. I want you. I’ve wanted you since the first fucking day I met you. And I couldn’t kiss her because she wasn’t you. Nobody will ever be you, and—”
“I love you.”
“—I wish there was a way I could—huh?”
You step closer to him. “You’re right. I love you. From the moment you had stars in your eyes just from talking about them.”
His jaw drops, and relief floods his features, but he flounders for words.
“If you don’t say it back, I might die of embarrassment.”
“God, of course, I fucking love you.” He scoffs, reaching forward to cup your cheeks and pull you to him.
Your lips meet so abruptly, you gasp. Without any hesitation, you wrap your arms around him and weave your fingers through his hair. His chest presses against yours, and whatever battle you’d been trying to fight until this point has been lost.
“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He punctuates each word with another kiss, and he begins to walk you backwards. You cling on to him but allow him to guide you.
“You have to promise you won’t let school fall behind,” you say breathlessly, placing your palms on his chest once you make it to your door frame. “That you won’t lose yourself because of me.”
“I hadn’t known myself until I met you, (Y/N). I’m only me if I’m with you.” Chenle gives you a soft smile. “If you’re mine, I won’t be worried about fleeting moments.”
You nod slowly, pulling him back to you. “I need you.”
He groans against your mouth, wrapping an arm firmly around your waist and walking you back until you’re by the edge of your bed. Without breaking the kiss, he follows you down to the mattress, his weight pressing you into it. You spread your legs to accommodate him, sliding your hands beneath the hem of his shirt to pull it off. He assists you, and as soon as it’s thrown across the room, you reach for him desperately to minimize the amount of time without the two of you connected.
“Say you love me again,” he mutters. “Please.”
“I love you,” you repeat easily, letting out a shaky breath as he reaches beneath your shirt to squeeze your breasts. His thumbs flick over your nipples, and you moan quietly.
“Me, too, baby.” He pulls your shirt off and interrupts the kiss to drag his lips down your neck. “There’s one thing you still haven’t taught me.”
“What’s that?”
“Show me how to make love to you.” He moves down further and takes your nipple in his mouth.
You tangle your fingers in his hair, gasping at the sensation. “Come here, Lele.”
When he’s face to face with you again, the darkness in his eyes has wetness spreading between your legs. He edges closer to you, unable to resist the urge of kissing you again. When he’s barely centimeters away, you lift your hand and trace his bottom lip, entranced by everything he is.
“Some things can’t be taught,” you whisper. “Sometimes, they just have to be felt.”
A ghost of a smile forms beneath your touch, and he nods. While his urgency is still there, he slows down, giving his hands freedom to explore you. Your back arches as his palm slides along your side. He grinds against you, shuddering breaths escaping. You lift up to match him, and you moan when you feel his hard length against your thinly covered core. The lust in his gaze has changed to adoration, a gentle gleam reflecting the moonlight outside as he removes your shorts and panties. His palm sends warmth through your abdomen, and he slowly moves lower.
“Can I?” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth.
“Please.”
He kisses you as a distraction, and you whine when his fingertips press against your clit. Humming in his own form of pleasure, he rubs uniform circles.
“Relax,” he tells you. “You’re so tense, baby. Let me take care of you.��
You immediately melt. “More.”
He parts your lips with his tongue, and as soon as it enters your mouth, his fingers slip inside. You moan, eyes rolling back as you rock your hips. The noises pouring from you can’t be controlled. You break the kiss and gasp when he curls his fingers and hits your spot.
“Fuck, again.” You dig your nails into his shoulders.
He repeats the motion, the tip of his nose brushing along your cheek. In your ear, he says, “I love you. So fucking much.”
A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine. You tilt your head back. “I’m close, fuck.”
He takes your ear lobe between his teeth and tugs, eliciting a cry from the back of your throat. Your walls clamp down wildly on his fingers, but he knows you more than you’d care to admit at this point. Right before you crumble before his eyes, he removes his fingers from you. Before you can protest, he silences you with a kiss.
“Condom?” he asks.
“Up to you,” you reply.
He pushes his pants off and to the floor, and you have a brief moment to admire the bulge straining in his boxers before those are thrown, too. Wrapping his hand around his cock, he inhales sharply as he jerks himself off a couple times.
“Ready, baby?” He climbs over you again, nudging your sensitive clit with his tip.
You nod, tugging him closer. “Hurry up.”
Chenle trails down to line up with your entrance, and he groans when he coats himself in your arousal. “You’re so wet.”
You open your mouth to say something, but he pushes inside of you at the same time. A loud moan escapes instead, making you slap your own hand over your mouth as your walls stretch to accommodate Chenle.
“God, do you know what you fucking do to me?” He drops his head on your shoulder as he bottoms out deep inside you.
Both of you are impatient today, apparently, because he wastes no time in moving his hips. He only leaves the tip in, just to push his hips forward. His moans join yours, the sound enough to make your walls flutter around him.
“So good.” You match his movements, lifting up every time he thrusts.
He speeds up, making sure to press flush against you every time he bottoms out. The sight of him alone is enough to have you trembling, but seeing him entranced by where your bodies are connected has you clenching around him.
He lets out a long moan, and you join him in looking between the two of you. His skin slaps yours, and sounds of your arousal fill the room. His teeth sink into his bottom lip, and he reaches between the two of you to find your clit. The first contact makes you jolt and whine.
You wrap your legs around his waist, smashing your lips to his. He smirks against your mouth, the steady pace of his thumb on your sensitive bud sending spasms down your spine. Your stomach ties in knots, and you squirm beneath him.
“Lele, ‘m gonna cum.” You barely get the words out through your pleasured haze, and he nods, burying his head in your neck and thrusting into you harder. Your legs shake as you tighten them around him, and your entire being ascends as your orgasm slams into you. You moan so loudly, he kisses you to keep you quiet.
“Feels so good.” His voice cracks as he fucks you through your high.
You kiss him hard, and use your legs to flip the two of you over so you’re on top. His jaw drops at the sight of you, hands immediately trailing up your body to your breasts. You give him a second to admire before you start your steady pace. You lean back and brace your palms on his thighs, slowly rolling your hips as you sink down on his cock. He uses the position to put his thumb on your clit again. You jolt, cursing again as you speed up. The sensitivity has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, but the feeling of him snug inside you, rubbing against your walls, has you approaching a second orgasm.
You’re not expecting it, but you hope he lasts long enough to finish you off a second time. Your brain is clouded with pleasure, and one look at him tells you he’s teetering close to the edge. His jaw is clenched, face contorted in pleasure as he stares at you bouncing on top of him. You’re seconds away. Your orgasm builds deep inside you, and your hips falter. He thrusts up, moaning loudly. Legs quaking, your second orgasm hits you hard, back arching. Chenle sits up to catch you crumbling into his chest, rocking his hips. He wraps his arms around you and holds you to him tightly as one last thrust has him spilling deep inside you. Both of you are covered in sweat, panting in the aftermath of the pleasure.
“Fuck.” He pants, burying his head in your neck and kissing where it joins with your shoulder. “‘M never gonna get used to that.”
When you chuckle, he squirms and gasps.
“Did you know you like, clench when you laugh?” He squeezes your hips. “We’ve been doing this for months, and I’m still learning.”
“The human body is wonderful,” you tease him. “Maybe you’ll switch from physics to anatomy.”
“The only anatomy I’m curious about is yours.” He holds you close and turns you on your back. Placing one last kiss on your forehead, he pulls out of you slowly. A lazy smile graces his face as he sees the sticky mess between your legs.
“You weirdo.” You nudge him with your foot.
He grabs your ankle and yanks you down closer to him. Hovering over you, he narrows his eyes. “Me being a weirdo is solely your fault, you know.”
“I suppose you’ve earned it.” You pretend to think about it. “Kiss me.”
He doesn’t hesitate to lean down and press his lips to yours, the movement softer and slower than before. You don’t mean to let out a long sigh of pleasure, but his breath shudders against your mouth. “Don’t do that,” he whines. “I’ll get hard again.”
“Why don’t we go shower together?” You twirl his hair.
“Mm, you gonna let me wash your hair?” He presses soft kisses up your neck. “I’ll take any excuse to touch you, baby.”
“You’re getting good at this.” You laugh and rest your head back on the pillow. “You never would’ve talked like that before. It’s sexy.”
He hums and nips your skin. “That’s your magic.”
After a few more moments of him doting on you, the two of you get in the shower. The two of you stand under the water, relaxing in the hot steam and each other’s embrace. His hands trail over your body until he’s eventually cupping your breasts.
“Hear me out,” he mutters. “How about we both just drop out and stay exactly like this forever.”
“Sounds great in theory, Lele, but you made a promise.”
He groans. “I made a few promises tonight. Don’t worry, I meant all of them.”
His thumbs brush your nipples until they harden beneath his touch. He pins you to his chest with his arm, continuing his work on your breast as his other hand trails down your body. Apparently, you’ve turned him into something insatiable, but you definitely benefit from it. He stops with his hand on your hip.
“Need something, baby?”
The tone of his voice sends a chill down your spine, and mixed with hot water cascading over you, you moan. You clench your thighs together, desperate for friction.
He adjusts to pinch your nipple, rolling it between his fingers. “Feel good?”
“Touch me,” you whine, grabbing at his wrist to push him between your legs.
“If it were socially acceptable, I’d be touching you at all times.” His fingertips find your clit. “You’re so fucking warm, and those little sounds you make…”
“Faster,” you say as you arch your back.
“But you’re so sensitive,” he whispers. “I’m having fun like this.”
“Lele, please.” You drop your head back. “I need you.”
“Music to my fucking ears.” He sinks two fingers inside you, his palm smacking against your clit every time he thrusts them in.
Your arousal gushes over him, and he bites down on his bottom lip to keep any sounds at bay. He stops working your nipple, too focused on the way your walls clamp on his fingers. You whine at the loss, putting your hand over his to tell him to keep playing with you.
He pulls his fingers out, trailing the wetness along your thighs. Right when he pinches your nipple, he does the same to your clit. You jolt and cry out, rolling your hips to get more stimulation.
“I wanna fuck you so bad right now,” he groans. “You always look so fucking pretty when you want me like this.”
“I can take it,” you tell him as you squeeze your thighs together. “Anything you give me, I’ll take it.”
A deep moan escapes him, and the next thing you know, he’s pulling you back so he can bend you over.
“Hands on the wall,” he instructs.
Once you’re fully bent over, you push back against him, desperate for him to fill you. He strokes his cock, gaze stuck directly on your core. He reaches around your body, squeezing your breasts again.
He releases you and lines himself up with your entrance. Right when you think he’ll push inside, he rubs his tip on your clit. Without warning, he slides completely inside, his tip resting snug against your spot from this angle. You scream, already pushing your hips back.
Neither of you have time to breathe before he’s thrusting hard, nails digging into your skin as he pulls you back with every forward movement. Your hands slip down the wall, the squeak of the tile doing nothing but adding to the pleasure of him inside you. The water amplifies the clapping sounds of his body against yours, and your eyes roll back from all of the overwhelming feelings.
“Lele,” you whine. “S-spread my legs a little more.”
He does as you ask, still thrusting at a slower pace.
“Now keep going how you were.” You push back until he’s buried deep inside you.
He seems to understand your motive without you explaining it, and you thank everything you can think of that he’s so fucking smart. When he resumes his unrelenting pace, it’s joined with his balls smacking into your clit. Every thrust has your walls fluttering around him, and each hit on your sensitive bud brings you closer to your much needed orgasm.
“Just like that.” You can barely speak at this point, fucking yourself back on his cock to match his pace.
A knot ties in your stomach, and you’re left delirious as you chase the unraveling of it. You let out your loudest moan yet, letting all of the sensations around you drive you over the edge. Chenle curses behind you as your walls clamp down on him, but he keeps moving. It doesn’t take long for your pleasure to turn into overstimulation from him rubbing against your walls.
As soon as an unfamiliar cry leaves you, he stops immediately.
“Are you okay?” he asks, panting.
“I–I can’t keep—fuck, I’m sorry.” You clench your fists together.
“No, baby, it’s okay.” He carefully pulls out of you and guides you back to your feet. “Don’t be sorry. You’d never be mad at me for something like that.”
“But you—”
“The fact you even let me in at all still baffles me.” He chuckles, pulling you in for a short kiss. His cheeks are bright red, and while he’s brushing your hair out of your face, an idea comes to mind.
“Let me fix it.” You kiss his cheek.
Before he has the opportunity to ask what you’re talking about, you’re guiding him until his back is against the wall. The chill of the tile makes his cock twitch, and you wish you could take him again. Instead, you lower yourself down onto your knees.
“You’re—the tile’s gonna hurt your—”
“Do you want to cum in my mouth or on my face?”
He gulps. “You don’t have to—”
“Answer the question.” You glare up at him, and he curses.
“Your face. If that’s okay.”
You chuckle. “I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t.”
“It kinda—it sounds so hot but I don’t want you to think it’s demeaning or anyth—oh, fuck.” His head drops against the wall when you take him in your mouth. You sink further and further until he’s snug down your throat, your nose pressed to his pelvis.
You hollow your cheeks as you pull away from him. He slides out with a pop, and when you look up at him, his jaw is dropped.
“First of all, if I was worried about you looking down on me, we would not be having sex at all. Second, don’t be shy. Grab my hair. Fuck my throat, I don’t care.”
His eyes widen, and like you’ve awoken something inside him, he grabs the back of your head and pushes you forward. You grin smugly before wrapping your lips around his tip. Running your tongue along to gather his precum, you grab onto his thighs to keep you steady.
“C’mon, baby, take it.” He inhales sharply as he pushes his cock into your mouth. You let him take full control, humming around him.
The vibrations make his hips jerk, and his tip slams into the back of your throat. You whimper, tears welling in your eyes.
“‘M sorry,” he groans, thrusting at a steady pace. “Just feels so fucking good. Smack me if you need to stop.”
You give him the best nod you can and brace yourself against him. It doesn’t take long for his orgasm to approach after he has your confirmation. He holds your head firmly, letting out a high pitched moan as you gag and your throat constricts around him.
He mutters something incoherent, and you pull away from him and stroke him with your hand instead. As soon as his hips buck, you open your mouth. Strings of white shoot from his tip, and you close your eyes as it coats your face. You swallow what lands on your tongue, panting as you look up at him.
“Oh,” he murmurs, the tips of his fingers lifting your chin up.
His thumb swipes over your bottom lip, and before he can rinse away his release, you lean forward and wrap your lips around him.
“My fucking God, you’re dangerous.” He kisses you, guiding you back beneath the water to rinse you off. You sigh into his kiss, finally letting the warmth relax you completely.
“We should get out soon,” you tell him.
“I don’t ever want to be away from you.” He shakes his head. “Let me at least wash your hair like I said I would.”
You laugh and roll your eyes. “You’re the one who got sidetracked, by the way.”
“And you love me for it. You said it yourself.” He beams at you, grabbing your shampoo from the shelf.
“That is the truth.” You wrap your arms around him and allow him to work his fingers through your hair.
After your hair is washed, the two of you get out of the shower. Both of you are beyond exhausted, so you end up right back in bed together, you curled into him like he’s a body pillow. He runs his fingers up and down your spine.
“Think Jisung’ll kill us?” he asks, sleep weighing down his voice.
“Who cares?” You listen to the steady sound of his heartbeat. “We’re happy.”
Chenle pulls you impossibly closer and presses his lips to the top of your head. If anyone told you when you first met him that this is how it was going to work out with Chenle, you would’ve laughed in their faces.
But life works in mysterious ways, and not only are you happier with Chenle in your life, but you’re a bit smarter, too.
#nct dream#chenle#nct#nct dream smut#nct smut#nct imagines#chenle smut#nct scenarios#nct dream angst#nct dream fluff#nct x reader#chenle x reader#chenle scenarios#nct dream chenle#nct chenle#nct fluff#nct angst#chenle fluff#chenle angst#nct dream imagines#nct dream scenarios
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~2.5 words
From me: Just a silly little thing I was thinking about. Not a lot of background. Probably has some plot holes. Currently thinking it will not continue.
Warnings: Enemies to lovers (you came, you called)
Summary: She doesn't like Harry. Which is fine because Harry doesn't like her either. Except both of them are lying.
Harry didn’t like her. But to be fair, she didn’t like him either. For albeit stupid reasons on both their parts that had prolonged throughout their lives. She was best friends with Eleanor. By proxy Eleanor’s boyfriend Louis and his circle of friends were therefore inextricably linked to her. Which meant she and Harry were around each other.
A lot.
To everyone’s dismay.
It was an offhanded comment, one that Harry never should have made but it soured her to pieces. “Only an idiot would do something like that,” he said, quietly. Only Louis overheard.
And her.
That was Harry’s mistake.
But she wouldn’t take it lying down. Harry could call her stupid all he wanted; she wouldn’t let anyone get away with saying it to her. So she told him off.
It was probably the first time in his life anyone had ever stood up to him. She found that when people were attractive, they were more likely to get away with bullshit that others would put up with even though they didn’t need to. Someone like Harry was more likely to say whatever he wanted and just assumed no one would tell him off because he was pretty.
Harry shouldn’t have called her an idiot. It wasn’t kind. Maybe he was jealous because honestly, watching her follow her passion was admirable and if the light hit her just right maybe he would have agreed that she was cool for doing what she wanted despite all the naysayers like him.
Even if it was embarrassing to be told off in front of their friends.
“Damn,” Louis whispered making everyone snicker. Harry was fuming. His eyes practically turned red with anger while he glared at her.
So, they weren’t friendly.
But given they were stuck in one another’s lives they learned to be... cordial. As cordial as two people could be when she absolutely wanted to claw his eyes out.
*
An hour.
That was how long she waited inside before she realized it was no use. No new messages, no phone calls. Nothing.
For whatever reason, she imagined Harry’s smug smile saying something to the effect of “I told y’were an idiot.”
It fueled her anger, and she silently blamed him for her date’s inability to appear. Which made no sense at all. Harry had no idea she was even on a date. But she had waited too long and honestly couldn’t disagree with the British voice mocking her inside her head. She was an idiot for waiting so long.
Her phone gave her more disappointing news but she was grateful she had service.
“Hey, uh... Uber is going to be... a wait,” she mumbled quietly standing just inside the entryway of the restaurant she had stayed at far longer than any sane person would have. “I know you’re on a date, I’m so sorry. I just... any chance you’re around to come get me?” She asked through her phone. The anxiety filled her lungs and a single tear rolled down her cheek. It was so typical that she didn’t have anyone to come get her.
“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry. Louis and I have been drinking and—”
She nodded, closing her eyes. She knew it was a long shot. If it were any other time, she had no doubt Eleanor and Louis would be there for her. “Oh, you know what,” she laughed quietly. “The app just updated their time. They’ll only be five minutes,” she assured her. “Sorry to bother you,” she sighed looking at the time on the app that increased by another half hour.
“Not at all, you know I’d be there as soon as I could,” Eleanor assured her.
She texted her mom, her sister, even her sister’s boyfriend and was met with no response from any party. Her toes were numb from the chill in the air and uncomfortable shoes. It was unfair. No one was there for her when she needed them. Ever. It sounded so dramatic but it was true. She wanted one nice thing. She wanted a nice date. A night out. It wasn't supposed to be hard.
Anxiety rolled through her with each passing second on the cold street. Her throat felt tight as she scrolled through her contacts one last time and realized there was one and only option left. But she sure as hell wasn't going to call him.
Are you busy?
Is this a joke?
Well, that was a short-lived idea. God, he was the worst.
Forget it.
What? Your date stood you up?
I said FORGET IT.
Why did you text me, then?
Lapse in judgment. Won’t happen again.
Her phone illuminated with Harry’s contact, no picture. Just his name. Not even an emoji to recognize she had known him for ten years. She may as well have had his number for no longer than a week. “What?” She snapped.
He snorted. “Let’s get it straight, love. You contacted me.”
“And I told you to, ‘forget it.’”
“Are y’seriously that stubborn y’won’t tell me?”
“No, I’m not stubborn,” she was very much so stubborn. “I will not let you berate me and call me stupid or make fun of me for going on a fucking date. I needed help and I will admit. I was stupid to call you thinking you would do anything but sit on your throne of self-adoration and help someone else. As I said, it was a lapse in judgment. Good. Bye.”
*
With an invigorated sense of frustration and anger, she had determined walking was her best bet. It had only been five minutes since she spoke to him. Her feet were aching, the chill gripping every inch of her body, when a car slowed beside her. It parked and she heard the door open. She didn’t turn around. Anxiety crept through her veins. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest, and she tried to remember the self-defense moves she had learned in a seminar put on by her dorm her freshman year of college.
“How much for an hour?” Harry’s voice cut through the cold air. She wanted to be mad. Wanted to snap something at him. But the relief crushed her; she couldn’t help but feel grateful for his familiar voice.
“You couldn’t afford me,” she grumbled turning back toward him. He was leaning against the side of his car—just by the front wheel. Ankles crossed; hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. He looked like a model for either the car or his coat. Hell, he could have been a model for the laces of his shoes. He was utterly beautiful.
He scanned her up and down. “S’that how you dress for all your first dates?”
“Shut the fuck up, Harry,” she muttered. A blush painted her cheeks as he scanned her. It felt so judgmental she wanted to punch him. She stood in front of him several feet away, eyeing him suspiciously. She didn’t know how he knew where she was. Didn’t know why he even decided to show up. Honestly, she thought maybe he was just driving around and was going to just get back in his car and leave her.
He snorted, scuffed the bottom of his shoe on the sidewalk. “You look nice.”
“Nice?” She repeated. “Is this a joke?”
“A lapse in judgment,” he rolled his eyes. “Are you getting in or what?” He asked pushing himself off his car and opening the passenger door.
“Why did you even come here?” She asked. The warmth from his car hit her like a blanket and she wanted nothing more than to dive in and snuggle into the front seat, blast the hot air at her toes, and fall asleep against the heated seat he knew she had from all the times Eleanor talked about it.
But she was stubborn.
“Obviously it was a mistake,” he closed the door again and made his way toward the driver’s side. “Could leave you here instead,” he shrugged eyeing her over the top of his car. Like a game of chess. It was her move. She glared at him and put her hand on the car handle. He locked the door as she pulled and smirked at her. “So easy,” he mumbled.
She thought taking her chances walking would be better—her toes were going to fall off and the numbness was creeping up her ankles and making way for her legs. “Oh, forget it,” she grumbled and stalked back down the sidewalk.
Harry groaned as if truly pained by her existence. “Oh, for God’s sake, love! It was a joke,” he was by her side before she had taken ten full steps.
“What are you doing here, Harry? Huh? Just here to rub salt in the wound? I got stood up, okay? You were right. Happy? I just wanted to—”
“Idiot.”
Fury pulsed through her at his interruption. At the insult. She slapped his cheek before she could say anything else. Before she could think of anything else. His head was still turned to the side when she marched further down the street without waiting to see his reaction. The numbness of her legs didn’t deter her. The heat of her embarrassment flooded her and warmed her plenty to make it somewhere nearby that would have more accessible Ubers.
“What the fuck was that?” He snarled, grabbing her wrist and spinning her around. It shouldn't have been a surprise he caught up to her so rapidly.
“You called me an idiot,” she snapped back.
He chuckled darkly. His grip tightened on her wrist, and he shook his head. The laugh hadn’t a trace of humor in it. “He. Your date. He’s an idiot.” She glared at him waiting for him to make another joke at her expense, but it never came. They stood still on the sidewalk. Harry’s hand holding her wrist like she might bolt at any second. Lord knew she was thinking about it. His gaze didn’t stray from hers. Intense.
And really fucking beautiful.
“Get in the car,” he ordered.
Which she didn’t take kindly to. “I’ll take my chances,” she sniffed and tugged, trying to release his grip. He didn’t budge, not even a millimeter.
“M’not asking,” his voice was low. “Get in the car, or I’ll drag y’in,” he promised.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me, love.”
The thought of Harry dragging her in the car didn’t seem like a good idea. It would only embarrass her further. “Why did you even come here? I told you to forget it,” she muttered.
He opened the passenger door and the warmth once more enveloped her like a hug. He gently touched her shoulder. She turned in the space between the opening of his car and Harry. He stared at her again. “You called me,” his voice was gentle. Unlike anything he had ever heard from him—especially directed toward her. There was no shrug, no indifference, no irritation. He was breathing evenly. As if they had done this a thousand times. As if he looked at her like she was... precious all the time.
There was a thud in her chest, her heart stuttered unevenly against her ribs. Her lips parted and she didn’t know what to say or do. Her toes weren’t numb anymore. She wasn’t cold. There was a silence that filled the space between them as he stared at her and part of her believed if they just never spoke again maybe they could be friends.
“If some idiot guy can’t see how special you are then s’his loss. Only his loss. Standing up anyone is horrible. Standing you up...someone so pretty, so intelligent, so kind, should be a crime.” The words escaped her. The air in her lungs was gone. “M’always gonna be there for you,” it felt like a trap to let him say something like that to her. His hand reached up from his side, he brushed the back of his fingers along her cheek. “I don’t know what happened, love,” he murmured. “I... I was so worried. And I truly would pity the person that tries t’take you on,” a smile danced at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t smug. It was beautiful and melted her further and it wasn’t even a full smile. “And I was still so worried... I jus’,” he shook his head. “I think I ran two stoplights,” he admitted. “S’like a switch flipped, love. Never been so worried ‘bout anyone like that,” he continued holding her gaze.
She bit her lip and looked at his chest. “Are you fucking with me?” She asked quietly. Her voice defensive but low. Afraid to believe him.
But more afraid to not believe him.
“No, love. Not even a little... well, jus’ the part ‘bout taking you on. S’quite the slap y’gave me,” his smile grew, and he rubbed his cheek as if it really hurt him. Maybe it stung, but she didn’t think it really was all that hard.
“Been like ten years of build up to that.”
He chuckled quietly. “S’all you could muster?” He challenged.
She rolled her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. Genuinely. It felt weird to say it to Harry. Felt weird to be in such a position. But she couldn't help but feel that she liked it.
“Always, love. And I meant it. Y’look beautiful.”
Her heart was doing things that she didn't know Harry could do to her. She blushed, looked at her shoes; her toes numbing in the chilly air. “Well, his loss right?”
“My gain,” he winked at her and gave her arm a gentle squeeze as he left her side of his car for the driver’s side.
“Have you just been jealous all this time?” She asked as he settled behind the wheel.
“No,” he rolled his eyes. The silence was companionable. The first time in knowing Harry that it felt anything other than hostile. “Maybe,” he mumbled.
“Maybe?” Her eyes were delighted, and she smiled at him. “You like me.”
“Oh, bite me,” he grumbled. “I do not.”
“You so like me,” she teased. Her cheeks were warm making her forget about the cold. He didn’t say anything. Just the gentle hum of the road filled the car. “For what it’s worth, I like you too,” she murmured tucking herself to turn sideways in the seat. Her face squished against the back of the warm seat. “Probably more than a lot,” she admitted. “I guess," she took a deep breath, scared to say it, but Harry had called her pretty, intelligent, and kind. She couldn't let that go unnoticed. Her declaration wasn't as pretty as his but she needed to say something. "I think my brain mixed up my emotions. I was... very unhappy that you didn’t like me all these years.”
“God, love, you're ridiculous,” he grabbed her hand without moving his eyes from the road. He squeezed her fingers but it felt tied directly to her heart. “How could I not like you?"
--
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#harry#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x reader#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#harry styles writing#harry styles angst#harry styles blurbs#harry styles imagines#harry styles x y/n#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#one direction#one direction writing#enemies to lovers#lapse
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I have a problem with commenting. I really like doing it! I love seeing people being happy because of them (it uh. Might also make me feel power that just a few words from me can make someone's day, it feels really nice and I'd love to do it as often as I can) and I almost always make them looong
The problem is, the moment I feel like the author in some way depends on me writing comments (they write back that they can't wait for me seeing the newest chapter or (and it makes me feel So Much Worse) I see that I'm the only person commenting) I feel stuck. I can't make myself comment so I stop reading the work so I don't read without commenting because I just can't, I get anxious and frustrated and awful (plus I miss out on reading those great, great stories)
I also really don't like skipping commenting on a chapter
This is why I don't often comment on on-going or on individual chapters of multuchaptered finished fics (i did a "writing individual comments in my notepad and then update them all" a few times tho) because I feel bad if I miss a chapter or the comment is too short when previously I'd comment a couple paragraphs (generally I don't like making short comments but if it's a one-shot I don't feel that bad)
Do you have any ideas what to do? I really like making authors happy and I feel like a bad person when I drop them but sometimes commenting feels like a chore and I read fanfics to feel better not worse...
I've answered asks before with "I could have written this" but this is a case where I literally did.
Somehow you've turned a pleasure into a duty and now you're stuck. How can you get back to the fun of commenting without winding up back in the guilt-prison you built out of your own rules?
I haven't figured it out yet, really, but what I've got so far is: don't be so hard on yourself. Give yourself a little grace.❤️
Don't open up a fic with the expectation that you'll write a comment on it. Just read the story with no specific plan to write a comment at the end. Enjoy the chapter or the whole fic. Let your mind be taken away to the world the author has created for you.
Afterwards, if you want to thank them for writing, do that. If you want to tell them you loved it, do that. If you want to point out a particular scene or line or feeling that really hit you, do that. But also the kudos button is there for when you don't have words. Emojis are there for when all you can say is a string of hearts. And sometimes you don't have the energy or the brainpower (or the freedom from anxiety) to leave anything at all, and that's okay too.
Reading fic isn't your job and commenting isn't your homework. You don't need to get an A+ in understanding themes and quoting lines back to the author. And in those cases where you feel like the responsibility has become too much? That's your sign that it's time to take a step away and do something else for a while until you're ready to come back again. And when you do come back? Start reading without commenting first and then see how things go.
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Summary: After years of being split apart from your group, due to being taken and relocated by the Saviors, you run in to not only one familiar face, but specifically, the one you were searching for this whole time.
Warnings: strong language, apocalypse setting, swearing, mentions of knives, guns, bows, other weapons, mentions of killing (both humans and zombies), some descriptive text, reader gets taken by the saviors, mentions of scars, fighting, AGE GAP - friends to lovers, reader likes Daryl, Daryl hides the fact that he likes reader, some flirting, nothing too spicy lol
Word count: 4.9k | not edited also my first Daryl fic so be nice :)
A/N - I’m writing this for me, yes, but I’m also this for the ones who have a problem, I mean… are attracted to men old enough to be their father, so please do NOT read if age gap relationships make you uncomfortable! This also is more or less my version of the walking dead, the group meets Negan, but not like in the show.
ＦＩＶＥ • ＹＥＡＲＳ • ＡＧＯ
There was no denying that you were Daryl’s favorite person to go on runs with, anyone that just showed up could tell you that.
You were fast. Efficient. Very get in and get out type of girl. You didn’t fuck around, and Daryl loved that - but he’d never tell you that himself.
He also swore to never tell you that he wanted you around him because you made him happy in ways that he didn’t really like to talk about.
You were like a breath of fresh air to him, you picked up what he liked and what he didn’t like almost right away, you were one of the very few people that he didn’t get tired of being around all the time, hence why you join him every time he goes on a run.
He wasn’t much of a talker, the very first two runs together, you got a few mumbles out of him, mainly telling you where to go and when to look out.
But, that was until your third run of many run with Daryl. It would be silent, and he would almost scare you with just talking outright.
It wasn’t more than a, ‘how’s your day?’
Or maybe a, ‘ya sleep last night? Y’look tired’
You would always give him a quick, straight to the point response, ‘tossed and turned all night, might need a new blanket or somethin’
Or you would tease him slightly with something along the lines of, ‘Days better now that I’m out runnin’ around with my bestie.’
He says he hated when you called him that, but he would always chuckle and try to hide his smile by pointing out something ahead.
You would go with it, rolling your eyes subtly before you squint, “Daryl, I think you’re seeing things.” You look over at him, “or you’re just scared to talk to me.”
He’d scoff, “Ain’t scared of nothin’, darlin’.”
All you could do was smile and look away, mainly to hide the red on your cheeks from being spotted.
It really wasn’t that Daryl was scared, it was just, as slightly embarrassing as he thinks, he didn’t know how to talk to you.
He would always try to remind himself that you aren’t this delicate little flower, you can handle yourself. If you couldn’t, he would have never stumbled upon you.
You both would keep moving, not really stopping unless a walker or something came out of the tree line. The more runs you added to the list, the more you realized that you were patient enough to wait on him.
You really did have all the time in the world.
Were you also young and twenty one years old? Sure. But in this world, you’d always like to think, What’s it matter, really?
You had to roll with what you found, and you got lucky that day Daryl found you under a fallen tree - long story short, he helped you out and as soon as he knew your name, he couldn’t help but want to bring you home with him.
And that’s what he did.
Daryl has also spoken, well, more or less make comments to Rick about the girl from the woods. He’d beat around the bush as his eyes followed you across the way, watching as Carol showed you around, “y’know that girl I brought in?”
Rock would nod, “Y/n?”
A smirk would play sure Daryl’s lips as he replays you taking out two walkers at the same time, “Little young, though. Ain’t she?”
Rick shook his head, giving Daryl’s shoulder a squeeze as he stood up, “You deserve what ever makes you happy, Daryl. We make our own rules now.”
——
“There was a convenient store on the corner of one of these roads.” You look at Daryl then glancing behind you, “I figured.. if we don’t find it today.” You glance back and then forward, “We can try and hit it another day.”
“Would ya stop fuckin’ doin’ that?” He looks behind you and then at you, “really freakin’ me out today, y/n. What’s goin’ on with ya?”
“Sorry.” You sigh, shaking your head, “I just have this really weird feeling like we should have just stayed back today.”
“You wanna go back?” Daryl stops as you take a few steps ahead before turning around. He nods back, “We’re not that far away, if y’feel safer goin’ back-“
“I’m not letting you go out there alone.”
“I’m not goin’ back.” Daryl was stubborn, but so were you, “Then so am I.”
He scoffs quietly, shaking his head as he nudges you with his elbow, indicating you to walk with him. You turn, staying a little bit closer to Daryl as you make your way down the road.
About an hour away, you stand up from the last of the boxes in a semi fallen down shed, “Nothing.” You turn to Daryl and he shakes his head, “Got the same over here.”
“No where?” You look around the room and he shrugs, “should prolly just head back, it’s gonna get dark here soon.”
The weird feeling you had from earlier returns and you sigh, “Not to be annoying, but I can’t shake this feeling.”
Daryl clenches his jaw, “Alright, it’s alright.” He picks up his crossbow, “C’mon now.”
It’s the way Daryl makes your heart warm with the simple, nonchalant ways he makes sure you’re okay, trying to make sure you’re calm without actually letting you know that that is what he’s doing, but you know.
You’ve come to know Daryl better than anyone in the few short months you’ve been at Alexandria.
“Did somethin’ happen or, what?” Daryl asks as he glances over at you, trying to keep up with your slightly faster pace.
You shrug, “I just feel like something is going to happen, Daryl.” You look over at him, “Something bad.”
——
Your feeling was proven to be worth something because the moment you entered through the gates, you were gunned down, Daryl, too.
“Gimme your guns.” A tall man says in a sing-songy tone as he bends down, looking you right in your face, “And your cross bow.” He looks over to Daryl and Daryl wasn’t going to give it up without a fight.
The man stands up, walking over to lean down in Daryl’s face, “Now.”
“Y/n. Do it.” Rick says catching your attention. Only your eyes move towards Rick, hands up as a gun is pointed right next to his temple, “Daryl. You, too.”
“I’d listen to your boss man, alright. I don’t feel like killing anyone today, which is..” the man tilts his head, scratching at his temple, “Odd, but anyone. Consider this your one time act of kindness because I can promise you, from here on out, ain’t gonna be purdy.”
You tilt your head, taking your gun from your shoulder and laying it down. You take your pistol and set it down next to the rifle, “That’s all I have.”
“Mm.” The man tilts his head, “I don’t believe you.” He grips your bicep hard, causing you to yelp as he yanks you forward and onto your feet.
“Let her fuckin’ go!” Daryl yells, and you know he’s already trying to get up, but the moment you get to look back, there’s a gun in his face, blocking his view of you.
You’re thrown up against the side of the old and dusty moving truck, groaning as your head ricochetes off the side with a thump, “Fuck, ow!”
You bring your hand up, pulling it away to see red when you feel a wetness on your skin.
“You mother fu-“ Daryl starts to yell, but the man puts a gun to your temple, “I’m just trying to do my job, now shut the fuck up or I’ll really give you something to fucking yell about.”
You keep your eyes on Daryl, watching as his eyes quickly move between you and the man holding you hostage.
“I’ll keep it professional.” He taps your shoulder, “Arat. Come check her for weapons.”
You were scared shitless.
You didn’t want to die, or anyone else to die.
Who are these people, you thought as the woman behind you slid her hands roughly over your body, “Simon. This is her.”
You head shot up as Simon, supposedly, laughs, “No fucking way.” He steps back, “Negan is going to love this.”
“Who’s Negan?” Rick asks and Simon turns around slowly to look at Rick, arms spreading out to his sides slowly, “We’re all Negan.”
Simon points to you with his thumb, “Load her up.”
The uproar that happens within your people is instant and there’s a shot fired into the air, making you flinch.
“That’s e-fuckin’-nuff.” Simon yells, “The girl is coming with us, and there’s-“ he raises his voice, “Nothing you can do about it.”
He walks you back to the truck, motioning with his gun for you to get in.
You take one last look at Daryl before you start to get in, heading Simon chuckle as he sighs, “Maybe you’ll see her again, maybe you won’t. We’ll be back with more orders. Until then, stay the fuck here or more we will kill your beloved.. whatever she is to you.”
Simon looks at Daryl, “You got that Robin Hood?”
Daryl holds his heated stare onto him and that’s the last thing you see before the door shuts.
——
“Well, well, fuckin’ well. What do we have here?” A deep voice boasts from behind you. You wiggle your wrists and close your eyes, feeling a presence move around you to your front.
You open your eyes and you’re met with a rugged dude in a leather jacket, a baseball bat that’s wrapped in barbed wire tightly secured in his fist, “You must be the girl who knows her way around those dead fucks out there.”
“What are you talking about?” You look up, eyes meeting the tall, older man and he just chuckles, “A few of my men saw you take on a group, I dunno, five or six deep..” he points to you with each word, “..All. on. your. own.”
You shrug, “I’ve been out there a while.”
“And how longs a while, sweetheart?” The man asks, squatting down in front of you.
“Two years with a group, three on my own.” You say quietly, your brain reminding you about the night had no other choice but to go off on your own.
“Holy shit.” The man shakes his head, “You hearin’ this shit, Simon?”
“Arat said it was her. I can get Gavin to confirm, too.” Simon answers and the man nods, standing up to pull a chair over in front of you, “If I untie you, you promise you’ll play nice?”
You were disgusted. You wanted to go home.
You wanted Daryl. You wanted Daryl more than anything.
You nod, hands gripping the arm rests as his knife slides between your skin and the rope, flicking the blade upward to get it to cut open.
He repeats it to the other side and leans back, “You seem like you have a pretty name.” He tilts his head, fingers rubbing over the stubble on his chin, “Do you have a pretty name, sweetheart?”
“Y/n.”
“Y/n.” The man repeats in a whisper, “Damn. That is pretty.” He shakes his head, smirking as his eyes take in your, very nervous figure sitting in the chair, “Look.”
The man leans forward, “I’ll tell you this, alright.” You keep your eyes off of him, which seemed to upset him. His voice grew louder and his hand reached up to tightly grip your chin, “Look. At. Me. When I am talking to you.”
You force your eyes to his and he picks up speaking where he stopped, “You’re a little spit fire out there, okay. Which mean, you’re a delicacy to your little asshole groupies back at that shithole, what was it called? Alex- some for bullshit?”
“Alexandria.” You mumble out, keeping your eyes on his. He tilts his head back, his hand still gripping your chin, “Oh, oh. Right. Yes. Alexandria.”
The door behind you opens and the man drops his hand, “Gavin, my man. I need you to tell me if this is the girl you say in the woods a few weeks ago.”
The man stands up, spinning the chair around for, presumed, Gavin to see you. His eyes move over your body, “Does she have a tattoo or some sort of mark on the back of her left arm?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“When she lifted her arm, it-“
“Lift your arm for me, sweetheart.” The man spins you towards him and you have no other choice but to oblige, you strongly feel that the other choice is death, which you can not allow to happen now.
You pull your shirt sleeve up and the man scoffs, “Bing-fucking-o.” The man shakes his head, “Get a team together, we’re going to meet the people of Alexandria earlier than expected.”
He looks to you, “Take her up to a room. A good room. She hasn’t done anything to not deserve it yet.” He winks at you and you look down as you feel a hand grab your bicep to lift you to your feet.
“Do you have any questions for me?”
You stop, turning to look at the man with the baseball bat resting on his shoulder, “Who are you?”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He walks over, tilting his head as he looks down at you, “I’m Negan.”
——
Your first day here was scary. You cried yourself to sleep, worried both about Daryl and the rest of Alexandria.
By the next morning, You were itching to get out, constantly looking for a way to escape, but they had so many people, no matter where you looked, you had eyes on you at all times.
To your surprise, the last week you spent with what you heard them call themselves, The Saviors, wasn’t in a stone cell like you pictured them doing the second you left that room on the first day.
You really didn’t know why.
You kill zombies, big deal. Doesn’t everyone else on this fucked up planet?
“Come with me, honey pie.” Simon says as he pulls you along with him, “Your time to shine.”
You’re taken outside, squinting at the brightness of the sun shining down from above. You couldn’t help but take a deep breathe, it’s the first time you’ve been outside in days.
“Get in and scoot over.” Simon commands and you climb up into the truck, your eyes meeting Negan’s as he steps up to sit into the passengers seat.
You don’t say a word to him. You just face forward as Simon smooshes you between him and Negan as he closes the door.
“So you and Robin Hood, huh?” Simon asks, referring to Daryl. You shake your head in response.
“Listen, sweetie. One thing we do around here, is answer people questions, with the words we learned how to speak. Got it?”
“Yes sir.” You say, clearing your throat, “No, me and.. Robin Hood are not a thing.”
“Seems to care about you like he does. You catch onto that Negan? The way he wanted to rip your throat out yesterday?” Simon chuckles, “Aw the look in his, man. I tell you what though, if looks could kill, you would have been dead.”
“Gonna have to take more than a nasty look to kill me.” Negan chuckles deeply, “Oh looky here.” He points, looking over at you as he sings, “honey.. we’re home.”
Your heart was racing as you seen Rosita motion to open the gate.
You watch her face shift into a shocked look when she caught glimpse of you through the windshield.
As you drive in, coming to a stop, you already see Daryl, front and center with Rick.
“C’mon.” Simon motions to you and you slide over, allowing him to help you down before you follow him around the truck. He pulls you closer to him, the click sending a shiver down your spine.
“Alright. Here’s the deal. You all want your badass, Duffy the zombie slayer black, but I don’t know.” Negan glances back at you, “She could be useful to me.”
You see Rick tighten his grip on Daryl’s vest and you send him a loving look.
“That thought didn’t even cross my mind, but you know what, how about this, If you want y/n back, give us half of your food today, and I want, we’ll make it easy.. ten guns by next week.”
“T-ten guns?” Rick asks baffled, “by next week? Negan that’s.. don’t you think that’s a little impossible?”
“Fine, make it fifteen by Friday, or you can say goodbye to the only chance you all actually have at surviving.” Negan points to you, “As you can she, she’s alive and well, now.”
Negan motions to the truck, “Let’s go.”
You shake your head and Simon grabs your arm roughly and you pull back, letting your fear get the best of you, “No, please. Nono, please no! No!”
Your pleads only set everyone on your side off, yelling and trying to push past the wall of Saviors.
Knives are drawn and you’re held to Negan’s chest, “Listen here! I make the rules. I have something you want and now, you’re going to go off and fuckin’ get me what I want. I’m done negotiating.”
“Negan, please. Just let y/n stay an I pro-“
Negan cuts Rick off, “You promise what, Rick? Huh? You already doubted yourselves with getting ten-“ He gasps, “Sorry, I mean fifteen by next Friday.”
He laughs, shaking his head, sighing as he brings his bat, Lucille, next for your face, “what makes you think you can handle the load of getting this thing here back.”
Daryl’s eyes squint as Negan calls you, this thing.
You swallow, glancing around.
You can take on six walkers, but not this many saviors, the walkers didn’t have rifles pointed at the people you’ve come to love and care for.
“Why are-“ Negan scoffs, “Why are we even still discussing this? You know what. Fine.” He pushes you to the back of the truck and you stumble, silently begging for help.
“If you’re going to cause this big of a fuss instead of just doing as I say..” Negan looks at you, “Then no one can.”
He shrugs, pointing Lucille at the open back, “Get in, or I kill someone.”
——
Ｐ Ｒ Ｅ Ｓ Ｅ Ｎ Ｔ • Ｄ Ａ Ｙ
You held your breath as you pushed your back up against the tree, waiting for the stray walker to move past you, knife at the ready just in case.
You slip around the tree, opposite way from the dead before you continue your journey through the woods.
It’s been, almost five years since you were left stranded in the middle of god knows where by Negan and his Saviors.
You weren’t even sure if they were still a thing or not, but jokes on them, you’re still alive.
And you’re full of fight.
You stopped at the river, bending down to feel the cool water on your fingertips. You’ve been walking all day, and you just needed to take a second.
You look up, taking in the scenery for a few moments before it all starts to becomes, familiar.
You stand up, looking around as your heart starts to pound. You shake your head, laughing slightly as you bend down to grab your bag.
If this is the river you were thinking of, then this river runs directly past your grandfathers cabin, and you can only hope that if Daryl was alive and out there looking for you, that he comes this way.
He should know about this, you stumbled upon it while on a run the one day. You remember about it, but all you knew was that it was next to the river that looked really pretty when the sun was setting, and it still does.
You only had about two hours of sunlight left, and you didn’t know how far you had to go yet, or even if you were going in the right direction.
If this cabin was here, maybe you could finally get a decent nights sleep, that is if it isn’t destroyed by walkers and the storms that plow through.
“I’m going to go get some more firewood.” A woman’s voice sounds through the trees. You stop, moving, furrowing your brows as you try and listen, but she’s already moving, walking away from the small building.
Your cabin.
You feel like you could throw up.
You turn around, trying to see if you can get a glimpse of who she was talking, too, but nothing.
“Raise your hands and turn around slowly.”
You whip around, catching her off guard before her face settles, “Holy shit.” Carol laughs slightly, “Daryl is going to lose his mind.”
She pulls you into a hug and you hear her sniffle, “oh my god, look at you.” She leans back, hands sliding over your hand and down your face, “You grew up.”
You smile slightly, your mind going back to who’s in the cabin, “Is he in there?”
“Every chance he got.” She shakes her head, “So much has happened.” You see the pain in her eyes but you opt to keep things happy right now, “we can talk later. I want to see Daryl first.”
She nods, brushing hair from your face, “Im so happy you found your way back.”
“It was hell, but right now, totally worth it.” You take a deep breath, “You go in first.”
She nods, walking a head of you as she leads you back towards the cabin, “Hey Daryl.” Carol calls as she smaller back at you, “I found something that you’re going to want to see.”
You stand by the fire, the glow illuminates you as you stand there waiting to see his face for the very first time in five years.
The feelings you had, never went away.
“What’d ya fi-“ His face falls and his arms go limp by his sides as he shakes his head, “No fuckin’ way.”
Tears well up in your eyes as Daryl slowly steps down off the porch, “No fuckin’ way.” He looks at Carol and back to you before quickly making his way over to you.
“Where the hell ya been?” He grabs you, pulling you into his chest tight, “I thought you were dead, I-.” He leans back, looking over your slightly older looks.
“Negan told us that he watched you get attacked by walkers.” Carol chimes in, finishing what Daryl couldn’t, “He brought back your necklace, there was blood on it.. we didn’t..”
You keep your hands on Daryl, your fingers moving under the sleeve of his jacket, “Negan snapped that necklace off my neck before they dumped me in the middle of nowhere.”
Daryl scoffs, pulling you closer to rest his chin on your head. Carol smiles as she watches the affectionate radiate off of him.
“They drove me way past the city, too. I don’t know. I’m pretty sure they drugged me or something because I was out for most of the trip.”
You feel Daryl’s grip tighten with your words and you shake your head, laying a hand on his bicep, “So much happened.”
You think back to all the stuff you had to do just to make it back to here, cringing at yourself.
“Ya hungry?” Daryl asks changing the subject and you nod, “Starving.”
——
Since the minute you found them, Daryl hasn’t left your side, and Dog right by his.
You were able to handle the news of the deaths and destruction among your group and homes, it hurt to hear, but it’s better that you know how than walking in expecting everything to be all sunshine and rainbows.
ou cried, but there was one question you needed the answer to.
“Are the Savior’s gone?” You looked up at Carol as she looks to Daryl. Your attention moves to him and he nods, “Ah, yeah. Yeah. But..”
“What?”
“Negan is at Alexandria.”
You’re on your feet, “What.”
“It’s only tem-“
You turn, walking away from Carol as she tries to explain, but you walk over to a tree, pressing your hand into it.
As you take a few deep breathes, you feel someone walking up to you, “I just need a minute.” You tilt your head, closing your eyes as you swallow the feeling of wanting to puke away.
“S’alot to process.” Daryl mumbles, unsure of what to do, “Take your time.”
Do you resent him now?
Are you going to leave again?
He wanted you to know everything, but he wouldn’t have if that meant you leaving again.
“Daryl?” You wave your hand in front of his face and he blinks, “Sorry I just..” he shakes his head, “please don’t leave me again.”
“Leave you again?” You laugh slightly, letting out a sigh, “Why would you think that I’d leave you? I’ve been looking for you.”
“I haven’t stopped. I came here because I-“
You smirk slightly, “Because you actually paid attention to your bestie?”
He gives you a small smirk, shoulders heaving as he laughs ever so slightly, “You’ve changed..” Daryl brushes his hand over your hair, his thumb gently brushing over your face, His brows furrow, “when did you get this?”
His finger brushes over the scar on your top lip, “Did someone do this t’you?”
“One of those assholes that pushed me out of the car, hit my face on a rock.” You shake your head, “It’s just a scar, Daryl.”
Which was one of many you have received.
“Sorry I-“
“Don’t. Don’t do that.” You shake your head, “What happened to me wasn’t your fault, okay.”
All he does is nod but you frown slightly, “Have I ever told you that I liked you?”
“I don’t think you’d come on runs with me if ya didn’t.” Daryl looks at you and you tilt your head, “No, like..” you bite your lip and sigh.
He laughs slightly, “M’old enough to be your daddy, y/n.” You smirk up at him, getting ready to say something but he pulls you towards him, “Watch out.”
Natural instinct, you have your knife in your hand within a second and you both swing around, the blades of your knives entering the dead’s skull in unison.
You look at the knives and back to Daryl, “Either way I look at it.” You pull your knife from the walker, “You and I will always have unfinished business to take care of.”
Daryl shakes his head as he withdrawals his knife, “You think?”
You lay your hand on his chest, “I know.”
You couldn’t let yourself feel what you’ve pushed through, but both Carol and Daryl can see that.
“Hi, boy.” You bend down to pet Dog, your shirt riding up to reveal a slightly bigger scar than on your lip. Daryl’s eyes fixate on it right away and he clenches his jaw.
Before he can ask, you stand up, “You fix up everything?”
“Yeah, go take a look.” Daryl sniffles and walks towards Carol as you walk into the cabin. Memories of growing up here flood through, almost breaking that barrier until Dog pushes between your legs, whining as he trots in.
“Do you need anything?” Carol asks walking up beside you. You shake your head, hesitating to look over at her at first, “No, no. I’m good.”
“We can head back to Alexandria in the morning.” She rubs your back, “It’s really good to have you back.”
You smile, nodding, “It’s really nice to not be alone.”
“What happened out there?”
You shake your head sluggishly, “I don’t-“
“Okay.” She says quickly as Daryl walks in. You look up at him, “I think I’m going to go lay down.” You walk over to where your bag is and sit down.
You bring your knees to your chest, eyes focusing on Dog as he glows in the light of the fire.
A few moments later, Daryl’s footsteps move closer to you. He stays silent as he moves to sit next to you. He brings his arm out, laying it around your back as he pulls you into his side.
You immediately fall into him, your head on his chest, arm around his torso. He inches back, just enough to lean against the wall for support.
Daryl looked down at you, gently playing with strands of your now long hair, it was just a little past your shoulders when you were separated.
You lost weight from having to scavenge for any food that was safe to eat.
He knew what you went through was tormenting you, he just wanted you to know that you aren’t alone.
“Look at me, y/n.”
You roll over into your back, head in his lap as you stare up at him.
“When you’re ready to tell someone, m’here f’ya.”
You close your eyes as his hand strokes over your hair. You haven’t felt this safe in a while, so you were just trying to soak it all in without having to worry every single second of the day and most nights.
“I love you.” Daryl whispers, “Should’ve told you that years ago.”
“It’s about time you say those words to me, Daryl Dixon.” You sit up, keeping your chest on his arm as you lean in, “I love you.”
——
I started to hate this towards the end but I NEEDED to get this off of my chest. I hope you enjoyed. As always, I love you so much. Thank you for reading! 🖤
likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
#samandcolby-ownme#Daryl Dixon#Daryl Dixon x reader#daryl dixion imagine#twd Daryl Dixon#the walking dead#the walking dead fanfictions#the walking dead one shots#smut#fluff#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x y/n#Daddy issues#Daryl Dixon one shots#Daryl dixon one shot#Daryl Dixon oneshots#Daryl Dixon oneshot#Daryl Dixon fluff#Daryl Dixon smut#fanfiction#fanfic#twd fanfiction
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Red Robin Au where after Battle for the Cowl, Jason (instead of donning that ridiculous pill helmet) goes back to visit Talia and blow off some steam with the LOA; it's an effective way to do so at first, as long as he keeps Ra's at arms length and has all the Bats away from him. Except is that Timothy fucking Drake working with Ra's al Ghul.
So now Jason's like oh my god are you kidding me why is Tim here working with Ra's of all people??? Last he checked, Dick was Batman now and Tim was part of that gaggle of Robins in Gotham. Not here, in Nanda Parbat.
Tim, fresh from a splenectomy: Jason?!
Jason: What the fuck are you doing here?
Tim: ??? I could ask you the same question??
Jason: No the fuck you couldn't?? I trained with Talia and now I'm back here for a bit, and I'm not the one missing an organ right now?! Why aren't you back with Dickbat in Gotham??
Tim: Well. Let's say I'm not Robin anymore
Jason: ... Not... Robin?
Tim, scowling: Dick gave it to Damian.
Jason: Dick is Batman for like a month and already gave the traffic light leggings to a mini assassin? Nice.
Tim: Ugh
Jason: And... this was enough reason to run away and get impaled by assassins in Iraq? While working with Ra's al Ghul?
Tim: Well, not really. I need to find Bruce, and Ra's is the only one who will help me. Even if he's a freak of nature.
Jason: Bruce... are we talkin' about another Bruce or did I miss a memo? Bruce is dead, Timbo.
Tim: He's not. He's trapped in the timestream and trying to get back. And don't- don't tell me I'm going insane with grief or in denial. Laugh all you want, then leave. I don't need this shit again.
Jason: Trapped in time? Damn motherfucker can't even stay dead?
Tim: ... You believe me?
Jason: Sure. Not the craziest shit we've seen. I have a feeling you wouldn't go as far as Ra's if you were actually going off nothing. (mumbling) stealing my schtick. What a bastard.
Tim, blinking: Wow. That... just wow. That was easy. Dick thought I was losing it with grief and so has everyone else.
Jason, shrugging: B is definitely stubborn enough to get lost in time instead of dying and, frankly, I know what being off yer rocker looks like, and this ain't it. I climbed out of my grave, for god's sake, is time shit really off the table? Wouldn't hurt t'look if the old man's still kickin'.
Tim: Uh-
Jason: First stop: away from Ra's, preferably. Talia's not bad, but Ra's is a whole other can of worms. Get up or I drag you.
#dc comics#batfam#batman#tim drake#jason todd#red robin#dc red robin#red hood#league of assassins#red robin comics#i just think that if i could take away jasons pill helmet era#and make him believe tim for the simple reasoning of#batman is too stubborn to die. ofc he has to steal my gimmick#mf.#cue red robin run except with jason's sassy commentary#jason: can i just shoot that guy#tim: no we're not killing anyone#jason: i thought your whole name change thing was bc u wanted to be more unhinged#tim: that is a gross misinterpretation of what i said#i love them lol#tim: ok i can get you a fake passport#jason: why#tim: ? to travel borders? youre not gonna travel as Jason Peter Todd#jason: why not#tim: well for one you're LEGALLY DEAD#jason: oh right. and u?#tim: alvin draper#jason: what#also ik tim wasnt in nanda parbat when he got spleen yoinked but shut up my au i do what i want
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What We Want - Chpt. 7 - Black N' White Knight
In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe
(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!
SUMMARY
Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.
Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?
As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.
And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.
Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?
(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)
PREV - NEXT
“I can’t believe that just happened,” Dick tells Tim, hand carting through his hair. The two of them are in the kitchen, at the breakfast bar. Tim sitting in front of his laptop with his legs crossed, and Dick tapping one foot agitatedly against the marble floor. While Tim might not be grinning ear to ear, it’s pretty obvious for anyone who knows him that he’s delighted by the tale Dick just regaled to him.
And what a tale it was. He hasn’t seen you in a year and a half, and then when he does, he finds you teary eyed staring at a picture of him shirtless at the gym. Bruce had always told him the way he played with the paparazzi would come to bite him in the ass one day, but he really can’t say he expected… that.
Obviously, it had to be a prank. That’s his first thought. That’s his only thought, really. What other explanation could there be? An accident? Maybe you’d forgotten what his room looked like. It wasn’t like he kept much personal stuff in his Wayne manor room, the only markers his clothes and the letters he kept in his drawer from his parents.
And you were wearing his clothes, of all things. He’d be surprised if you forgot how much of a Superman fanboy he was, seeing as he’d spent many hours ranting to you before the explosion. So, a prank. A show of good will, an olive branch maybe? It was more likely you were just fucking with his head, as you’d done in the past. Never like this, though.
This was just… bizarre.
“I can’t either,” and of course, Tim sounds near estatic saying that. The love of chaos ran true in that one.
Dick had managed to wrangle his life under control a few years back, and despite the universe seeming to try to unravel it at the seams, he was indisposed to let it simply happen. Even if you of all people had changed. No, Dick was getting older, and he was finding his taste for chaos a lot more… limited.
He didn’t want to suffer it’s affects. He was currently suffering it’s affects.
“I knew something was going on when she showed up to the party, but this…” Tim pauses, leaning back in his chair, “It’s gotta be a prank, right?”
It said a lot about their family that this was all the assumption they defaulted to.
“It could be something else. Did you even take her to the hospital after?” Dick offers instead, overthinking as always. This situation seemed to be made for overthinking, though.
Tim hums. “No, we did not.”
Then he turns his stare to Dick, like he’s expecting something from him.
“Seriously?”
“What? You’re the friendly one.”
Dick very much did his best to seem like the friendly one, at least. Tim was well aware it was a complete farce, though. Dick was nice but he could also be a bit… well… a bit of a dick. Another thing he’d been trying to overcome. He was doing better than when he’d been seven, at least.
Dick sighs, pressing his hand to his forehead, “I’d probably just end up accidentally nagging her, and then she’d never speak to me again.”
“That’s not my problem,” Tim shrugs, glancing back down at his laptop and squinting.
“It is, actually. Because if she stopped talking to me you’d probably be the next one till the girls and Duke came home who has to talk to her.”
“She could talk to Jay,” Tim offers, because he’s a shithead. Dick bets he did the same with Bruce, “And besides, I’m busy doing surveillance.”
“You mean stalking.”
“I do it to everybody, stop making such a big deal out of it.”
Dick sighs again.
“Hm, you might want to check your phone,” Tim says, in a way that suggests he has once again tapped the network. Keeping him out of Dick’s private life was like Sisyphus and his boulder. He still wasn't going to give up, and the time Tim and Steph mercilessly bullied him for getting dumped over text had made him all the more so.
‘Dont_try’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx
“Please, tell me you sent that and are just messing with me,” Dick begs, staring down at his phone in mild despair. Chaos. Always fucking chaos. Despite how hard he tried, he could not keep his family out of trouble. God damn it, when he’d gotten this job he’d been the one made for trouble. Where did he go wrong?
“Honestly, sounds like the sort of thing I’d do, but the girl just got bitch slapped so I really think you should respond fast.”
“What?!”
“She’s fine now, run to the bathrooms I think. You know for such an upstate place you’d think they had better camera positioning,” Tim mutters, complaining that he can’t watch every single little movement you make. Dick thinks he should probably worry about this, as it’s a clear sign of another decline for his sanity, but he’s now got this shit to deal with.
“Why, Tim? What is going on? Just tell me what’s going on.”
“Hm?” he’s engrossed by the computer, “Ah, the shitty boyfriend… some soup- ha, how is she such a clutz? Maybe we should get her head checked again- and… an altercation of some kind? I don’t know, I can’t see it properly.”
Dick leans forward in his stool, clasped hands covering his face for a moment.
“Are you going to reply? If you don’t soon, she’ll probably make it a bigger shitshow,” Tim says, nudging his foot against Dick’s. Dick, good big brother that he is, takes a deep breath and steadies himself. Even if this is really not what he wanted for his holiday, he’s dealt with much, much worse.
The press will have forgotten about this within the week. You, however, likely not. He’d promised to help you all those years ago, and even if he had no idea why you were reaching out to him, or if you would even be amicable when you met again, he’d still damn well do it.
He glances back down at his phone.
“What is going on?” Dick repeats to himself, and Tim’s head cocks to the side. There’s that familiar cat that got the cream grin spreading across his younger brother’s face, and it just really isn’t welcome right now.
“Intrigued yet?”
Unfortunately for both him, Tim and especially you, Dick already was.
He’s in his car in five minutes flat, finger tapping against the premium leather wheel. The sound of it is the only thing that manages to keep him sane.
Riding up to the place, Dick realises that no, maybe the press won’t be over this within the week. Considering the amount of paparazzi swarming the place, he doubted you’d be free for at least a few months. To be fair, the mysterious ex-wayne making such a scene was a bit of a big deal. Before you’d been basically invisible, despite your immense wealth and past.
Invisible? Dick thinks he spots at least twenty cameras. And that’s not even mentioning all the phones inside that would’ve gotten up close videos of whatever happened. Their legal team would handle it fine, that which Barbara or Tim couldn’t wipe from the face of the earth. And that was very little, all things considered.
Dick has to push past the calls of his name, ignoring all the intrusive questions volleyed his way like the pro he was. He still makes sure to listen carefully and store away every vital bit of information, as well as remember the logos on the film crew’s van. Eventually he makes his way to the front of the line, and the flustered front of house immediately recognises his face and sweeps him inside. Dick ducks in with a thankful smile, which he admits, falters when he enters the scene.
A scene which you are not in. Your gold digging boyfriend was, though. Of all the things Dick regrets with you, it’s not breaking the horrid relationship the two of you had apart. Or well, the fact that you totally, loudly hated his guts. He was a sensitive guy, y’know!
He sees your terribly boyfriend - George, Dick remembers - raging at some poor servers, and he knows he need to go sweep in and save the pour soul. It’ll be a hard fight, he can already tell.
Before he does so, he sends a quick text to his phone.
Underwear_guy: Where are you?
Don’t_try: I’ll be right out.
Shockingly, that was the truth. You come striding into the restaurant, and immediately all eyes are on you. It makes you stutter-step. Dick can see you visibly stiffen up, before you manage to gather your courage and keep walking. You don’t even pay him a single glance as you walk straight towards your fuming boyfriend.
You try to whisper, keeping your voice quiet and your conversation private. The boyfriend seems uninterested in the idea.
“What the fuck are you thinking?!” he cuts you off.
You glance around, and then say something else. It seems like you’re trying to defuse the situation, but George seems uninterested by the idea.
“This behaviour is ridiculous. You need to get it together, we’re in public!” he yells, like he isn’t the one causing a scene. He seems to be trying to intimidate you back into silence. But today and well, yesterday too, something is different about you.
Okay, that’s enough of that. Dick’s intervening.
“You cheated on me! You deserve it and everything that’s coming to you!”
Or, uh, maybe you’ve got it covered.
-
George’s shocked face is almost worse than when you literally bit him. Guess he expected you to be a bit more demure after that encounter. He should know better, the other version of you seemed to have been even more spiteful in nature.
Today again, you prove you are a less than stellar person. You’d stopped caring about George as soon as you’d discovered he’d cheated, but you were still angry. Not jealous, but furious. Bubbling up your throat, rage and bile and the urge to attack him once again, even if you just want to go home.
Your teeth grind. Your jaw ticks. And oddly, you realise you have a real taste for George Lancaster’s limbs.
Though your life had changed (literally) in the past few days, you were still the same girl from your first twenty-first. You wanted George Lancaster to suffer. Even more so, now that the evil cunt had hit you right in the face. The hit had stunned you, though. More emotionally than physically, but it had shocked you.
You couldn’t say you were a coward. You’d spent far too many days in your teenage years indulging in self-destructive behaviours to think that. But something about this pathetic man was scaring the shit out of you. You think that made you more pathetic, but you couldn’t quite tell. That’d be victim blaming, right?
You did have a habit of blaming yourself. It was just usually your fault.
…Maybe you shouldn’t have bit him, no matter how much the response was instinctual or his screech was satisfying. This was all too confusing, all too much. You needed to get back to your apartment, lock the doors and barricade them so nobody bothers you. And then maybe hibernate for a week. You needed some time to process all the stupid bullshit you were experiencing. The wayne manor was too much, your horrible white apartment was too much, George fucking Lancaster was too fucking god damn much.
You take a deep breath, and manage to stop yourself from bolting like a deer. Deal with the problem at hand. Deal with it now, deal with it!
“I’m leaving, and we are done. It’s that simple,” you tell George, trying to drill in a message that he seems unable to comprehend. At this point you’d assume he’d be trying to apologise, manipulate back into his good graces, but you think you might’ve completely broke him. Broke the script.
Good. That was damn well good.
“Can we talk about this somewhere else at least?” George replies, eyes flicking to Richard Grayson’s angry gaze. At least you think he’s angry. You can’t quite gather the courage to look directly at him.
Also, there’s the manipulation! You wish you weren’t right this time.
“Sure, but I’m bringing him, and my answer will absolutely not change. You hit me.”
“You bit me!”
Well, yeah, not your best moment. You don’t think you can regret it, though.
“Then I think this relationship is ending on equal terms,” you reply, trying your best to just get him to quit it. It is obviously not working by the way his expression darkens.
“I’ll tell the press everything,” George threatens, which, well, is sort of a shitty threat because I don’t even know what he’s threatening. ‘Everything’? Couldn’t he be a bit more specific?
You shrug. It is the wrong response, you know it is, but you’ve completely ran dry of fucks to give. Couldn’t be much worse than the bullshit happening right now. The press were already very well fed, considering the situation that was today. George makes a small sound of fury.
“We’ll sue,” Richard Grayson, the white knight that you’d daydreamed about, comes to your rescue. Is it odd that it’s kind of flustering? You probably shouldn’t be flustered.
George immediately snaps his gaze to Grayson’s, giving the man a look with a healthy dose of fear. Couldn’t blame the guy. Even if he was the second smallest of the three remaining brothers, he was still well known for being strong. His family often did kick-boxing, and their sister, Cass, often whooped their asses. It was sort of satisfying to watch. Anyway, his physical prowess from fighting to weirdo gymnastic bullshit was evident in his svelte build.
George was many things, but he wasn’t an idiot. With just the one threat from the Waynes legal team, he skitters away like the little rat you know him to be. He leaves the restaurant, and he very obviously does not pay or even leave a tip. You suppose you have the cash to make up for it. Then, ignoring the paparazzi, you were technically home free. You glance to the side. Richard Grayson’s beautiful face looks a mix of confuddled, frustrated, and exhausted. He still saved you, though, even after the fool you made of yourself.
White knight, indeed. It almost feels a bit anticlimactic, but it’s the results you wanted. And yet, an ominous feeling befalls you. Somehow, you don’t feel you’ve seen the last of George Lancaster. You just really hope the old you hadn’t committed any crimes. A tabloid? Humiliating, but livable. Prison? Not so much.
Not that the rich stayed in prison in Gotham, or even the rest of the world. It was kind of strange to realise you were sort of above the law now.
You glance at Dick, pulling your uncomfortably wet shirt away from your chest. You’ve sort of been bled dry of any shits you could give at this point, so you decide, very maturely, to make jokes and ignore all your problems. It had gotten you this far.
You’d seen this behaviour before. Many, many times. It was what usually got you fired. But now you didn’t really have to worry about that, so why should you worry about causing a scene and ruining your life a bit more? It wasn’t yours, after all.
“What do you think?” you joke, elbowing Dick. He looks down from glaring at the entrance George just slipped out of, to you. His blue eyes are a damn near shock to the soul. It takes everything in you not to start fidgeting.
“Think of what?” he responds, and despite how hard you try, you can not read his expression.
“I’m trying to make some more news. Don’t think the reporters got enough the other day,” you say, gesturing to the giant stain. It’s still Dick’s shirt. You hadn’t realised till now, but the Beatles was now some sort of green soup. Is it kind of gross of you to acknowledge that at least the soup smelled good?
Probably. You didn’t actually get to eat anything here. It’s also probably a bit weird that you’re thinking about eating at a time like this. Probably.
“I think you’ve done enough, honestly,” he says, glancing at the camera flashes from outside.
He sounds exactly like your mother, it’s almost uncanny. Well, this version of him technically knew her. You’re still not sure how well en-meshed your two families had been before the disaster, but maybe he’d picked up some traits from her.
…That… you’re not sure how to feel about the idea. The old green monster bubbles up at the thought, and you can’t tell if you’re jealous your mum got to meet Dick Grayson, or that Dick Grayson might’ve gotten to know your mum.
“We should leave,” he says, cutting off your bitter inner thoughts, “I know you don’t like it when the magazines bother you.”
You don’t? You don’t. Yes, that makes sense, ‘you’ definitely wouldn’t have. And it’s not like you feel comfortable with them either. In fact, if you think about the fact your drowned rat appearance will be on every tabloid in the city by tomorrow, probably alongside photos from your birthday, you feel so nauseous you could collapse. Going to compartmentalise that one.
“Yes, going, let’s go,” you say, following Dick out of the restaurant.
Despite the fact that the security guards are trying their best, it’s getting quite rowdy out here. When Dick wraps an arm around your shoulder, shielding you with his body, you almost just pass out right there. His muscles… Your heart simply can’t take it. As it is, Dick notices you jump like a foot in the air, and backs off. He still makes sure to try and protect you from their vision as much as possible.
Still, in an act that is purely rebellious, you turn and give them a big smile and a wave. Even as you hate every single person on the other side of the divide, you want to make one thing very clear. You will not be cowed by someone like George fucking Lancaster. Your peace sign and wink are a message to them, to him, and to yourself.
Despite the fact that this new life is one you have no idea how to handle, you know one thing. Put on a face, and it’ll always be easier.
Dick is probably wondering what the hell happened to you for you to be acting this way. Your shirt has a giant stain on it, you just broke up with your cheating boyfriend, went through a traumatising experience just a few days ago, and you’ve got the biggest grin on your face. This behaviour speaks more and more of a full blown mental breakdown. And it’s not the first you’ve had or the last.
There’s paparazzi snapping thousands of photos of the two of you, and instead of shying away as ‘you’ used to, you throw up a peace sign. One of the papps drops their camera. That confuses you a bit, as your peace sign deflates slightly. Didn’t they want more pictures? Weren’t you supposed to pose…?
For all you stalked celebrities online, you realise you have no idea how to pretend to be one. This is going to become an issue, you can already tell.
He points at a car, and you assume it’s his because he starts making his way over. He’s obviously done this sort of thing before, using and guiding the security with a smooth confidence. Even still, the two of you are a bit too close for comfort.
Which you prove, by putting your foot directly in your mouth.
“I don’t have abs, but do you think the press would like my stomach like they like yours?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. Another poor joke. You are deflecting so hard. And why the hell did you bring that up, you dunce? You feel your brain cells draining the more you’re around this guy, it’s not healthy for you.
“Please don’t pull your shirt up in public,” Dick sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. It’s spreading, like the plague. You’re patient zero, of course. Even still he gets you guys to the car, and opens the side door for you. You follow his wordless command and slip into the passenger seat.
“I won’t. Sorry, sorry,” you reply, to relieve him of some of the trauma you’re currently inflicting.
He glances back to the papps, and then back down at you. His smile bowls you over like he’s getting the last strike in a fucking 300. He genuinely is the most beautiful human being you’ve ever seen. Thankfully, he closes the door so you have a moment to gather your sanity before he goes around the car and gets in the driver’s seat.
You hope you’re subtle when you shift away from him slightly. It shouldn’t be that surprising really. You were stupid on average. You would be stupider around attractive people. You would be frankly disastrous around someone as blastingly hot as Dick Grayson. The Waynes in general turned you into a drooling idiot.
Good god, you need to get out of this car. As soon as you think that, Dick is pulling away from the parking spot and out onto the streets. He makes slow progress because Gotham traffic, but eventually you manage to flee the horrifying stares of the cameras. Already you can tell it’ll be giving you nightmares. Probably along with images of the guy who tried to rape you and Damian Wayne sneering at you.
“So, how are you feeling?”
Despite how you wish it not, Mr. Grayson decides he’s going to start a conversation with you.
“Good,” you reply, the answer instinctive and an obvious lie.
You can feel his gaze on the side of your face, but you don’t dare return it.
“That’s good to hear,” he says, and his voice is gentle. Sort of infantilising if you’ll be honest.
While it is very clear to anyone who looks at you that you have no idea what you’re doing, you’d rather he didn’t bring it up. You’ll figure it out. You’ve always managed to figure it out. This is what you get for asking for help. Really, despite your momentary panic you could’ve taken George. Probably not physically, but…
“You can talk to me if you want, you know?”
“Can you stop the car, please?” you respond, when that question immediately activates your fight or flight response. Dick must notice something about you, because he quickly shoots forward and into a momentarily available parking spot.
You scramble with the door, shoving your way back out onto the asphalt. The immediate distinct smell of Gotham, even Gotham’s richer districts, calms you down. Sewage, the ocean, and the ever present smoke and fog.
Fuck’s sake. You aren’t making yourself look anymore well put together.
Clearing your throat, you turn and find Richard Grayson coming around the car hood towards you. There’s a worried look in his eyes, and you really don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like you made a deal with the devil. By getting rid of George, you’d gotten a new problem - and an infinitely more complicated one.
Shit, you need to stop making rash decisions when you’re having panic attacks. You’d say you should probably try and stop having panic attacks entirely, but you don’t really know how to do that.
The sound of your name has you snapping back to attention. Dick looks even more worried.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, taking a few slow steps towards you. Again, infantilizing. Like you’re a wild animal about to run. Wait, weren’t you just comparing yourself to a chihuahua? Well, it’s not the same when other people do it.
“I’d like to take a walk,” you say, hand scrunching into your pyjama pants, “Alone, I’d like some time alone.”
“…In that?” He glances down at the stain that is slowly starting to dry. It’s making your skin itchy, but at least it’s not as cold.
“I can buy something,” you say, remembering one of the apps on your phone was connected to your bank account, which you had to assume was pretty full. It’s kind of stupid that you haven’t checked that yet.
You’re starting to feel a bit defensive towards your own intelligence. Maybe it’s because you seemingly keep making all the worst decisions.
Dick doesn’t make it any better.
“Do you have cash on you?” he asks, showing how little faith he has in your general abilities to survive as an adult in Gotham.
“I do, I’ll be fine,” you insist, because god damn it, you will be. You just need a fucking minute.
You ran from the Wayne manor because you felt like you were being watched, and then as soon as you showed up at the world’s most uncomfortable apartment, the haunting wraith known as George dragged you out in your P.J.s. You could figure it the fuck out, if these people would give you some fucking space.
Richard Grayson seems to realise that you’re getting upset, because he goes quiet for a moment. After staring at you for a moment longer, for which you manage to find the courage to maintain eye contact through pure stubborn will, he asks you one final question.
“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home or something?” he asks, still seeming so determined to help you.
His suggestion brings flashes of images of you breaking down in front of the Bruce Wayne to mind. From almost a birds eye view, you see yourself sobbing against your own ruined dress as the billionaire looked on. Bile literally jumps up your throat, and it takes a lot of willpower not to grimace at the suggestion.
“Look, Mr. Grayson, I really appreciate-”
“That’s the second time you’ve called me that.”
Once again, you feel the urge to simply sprint away from your own problems, but you manage to hold yourself still. Still, you can’t think of a solution. You can’t really think much of anything. Instead you stare at Richard Grayson with your hands threaded together and your lips pressed into a thin line.
Though you open your mouth to speak, you find you have no excuses ready or available. You’ve talked yourself into a corner already, and it’s your third day in this world. Marvellous. Maybe you should just tell the truth.
Still, the dangers outweigh the pros. They don’t know you, they don’t have any real reason to take care of you. If they believe you, they’ll toss you out onto the streets penniless. And if they don’t-
You blink. There’s a highway sign behind Dick, and it catches your attention like a lightning bolt. ‘Arkham Asylum 800 miles’. It’s white blocky letters on green panelling feels like a sign from god, warning you from the path you consider taking.
And then you realise that you might actually get sent to Arkham if you say anything, and you resolve to never tell a single soul about what has happened to you. You’ve heard enough stories about the asylum, and by god, you are not being roommates with the fucking Joker of all people.
Eventually Dick realises he’s not getting anything out of you and he sighs, shaking his head. His annoyingly perfect hair mesmerises you for a second, but you manage to wrangle your brain back under control. He really doesn’t make it easy.
“I just want to know if you’re safe. If you’re going through anything, you know we’re always happy to help-”
“Dick,” you say his name, face twisting in discomfort, “This was a… a one time thing. Usually I can handle my problems. It just… it caught me off guard. George cheating was a huge shock, and I needed someone to stand by me.”
“And you know I always will, right?”
Ah. That’s… Dick Grayson was a stranger. You didn’t know him, and more than that he did not know you. He did not know what you would do, could do. You didn’t think anyone did, not even yourself.
It’s a silly idea to expect your celebrity crush to save you, and it’s one you find you can’t stomach it at the moment. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself at the idea. It’s too indulgent, too silly. It’s very simply, not possible.
You’ve given up on relying on miracles. These lessons had been beaten into you, really. You didn’t want to have to learn them again.
Your feelings must show on your face.
Dick lets out a whoosh of air, frustration palpable. He carts his hand through his hair. It still looks perfect. The world is unfair, yadda yadda.
“You run hot and cold, you know?” he gives you a grin. It says a lot about his ability to act, seeing as it seems almost natural. Almost, being the key word.
Also, he is absolutely correct. The chihuahua effect is in full-swing. And you know what? You are probably going to continue to run hot and cold, because you’ve never made a decision in your life. He’ll just have to get used to it.
You raise your hands and shrug, in the universal ‘what-can-you-do?’ motion. He wasn’t wrong. You were being completely erratic. Not even you knew what you’d do next. At least life isn’t boring these days, right Right? You wonder who you are trying to fool, because it’s certainly not yourself.
“I’ll contact you if I need anything,” you lie, because it seems to be the right thing to end this torturous conversation, “And I’ll make sure to keep contact with Alfred. You can talk to Jeanine if you need anything, as well.”
Dick, unfortunately, calls you out on your bullshit.
“But not you, right?” he says, smile still printed on his face.
Woof. You think… you’ve hurt his feelings? Ah shit, you instantly feel like the scum of the earth. Still, you don’t know how you could fix this. Arkham is a genuine threat lingering over your shoulder, you don’t know enough about your new cut-throat billionaire world, and you can not lose any faith they have in you. Any that you have left, that is.
You’re sorry, but this is coming down to survival. And you are a greedy person, after all.
In the end, you don’t have anything to say, and Richard Grayson leaves without a word. Watching him walk towards his car, you feel… bad. Really bad. The part of you that is still crushing on this guy, a very large part of you, feels like you’ve ended the earth. The other part, the one that recognises that once again you’re going to have to fight for yourself… well, she thinks so too.
Maybe… maybe you could fix this. Apologise. Once you’ve gotten your bearings and know you’re safe and 100% financially stable, maybe you’ll figure it out. Give him his shirt back after you’ve dry-cleaned it.
For now, you give him your back as well.
MASTERLIST - NEXT
#Series:WWW#yandere batfam#batfam x reader#yandere dc#yandere batfamily#yandere x reader#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#tim drake x reader#red robin x reader#damian wayne x reader#robin x reader
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Headcanons for being an Avenger with a low social battery
Avengers x reader
warnings:
a/n:
prompt: anonymous: “Can I have the avengers with a reader who has a really bad social battery. Like they can be out in public and then they just disappear and are like “nah I’m done with these mofo’s””
the avengers are quite the rowdy bunch
but you always as excitable as them
these guys were often in the public eye, always being asked all sorts of questions
but you just couldnt handle it a lot of the time
"y/n, can i get a picture with you? you're my hero!" -fan
"uh...yeah, sure. big smile!" -you, completely exhausted
you tried to be nice and not obvious that you were drained but boy was it hard
especially when tony threw his parties
you'd typically sit in the corner with a drink and try to make it through the night
but there were always some guests who were just dying to come talk to you
"hey! why are you hiding over here, there's a party going on! come, have some fun!" -clueless party guest
"oh, i'm okay over here, thank you" -you
"i'll keep you some company, then. why don't you tell me a story of one of your avenger missions"
some people just could not take the hint
but the avengers usually knew when you'd had enough
"wanna get out of here?" -nat
"please." -you
you'd recharge alone whenever you escaped the madness
dont even get me started on the news
they would do anything to get an interview with you
"y/n! could you comment on the recent events in [country] that you accompanied the avengers in?" -reporter
"we were there, we saved the day" -you, obviously exhausted
"is that all you have to say?" -reporter
"hey! don't you want to hear what i have to say? huh?" -tony
"thanks, tony" -you
"no problem, kiddo" -tony
wanda got it
you liked spending time with her because she liked to be calm and alone sometimes too
you'd read or watch tv or listen to music together in silence for hours
it was nice
it was funny because sometimes the team would all be socializing and then bam
"hey, where's y/n?" -steve
"i think they tapped out" -clint
"oh. i'll go check on them" -steve
"no, just leave them alone, they'll be back" -tony
after a lot of missions you'd just wait for the avengers on the quinjet while they spoke to authorities or SHIELD or whoever
"just forward me the mission report, i'll fill it out" -you
everyone just kinda let you do your thing
which worked out just fine for you
it drove fury crazy back in the day
"just why are we giving y/n special treatment? what? they're tired?" -fury
"i didn't say that, i said they were over your shit" -tony
"you better not have said that, i'll give you one last chance" -fury
and that is just another reason you were depleted
some days were better than others, and sometimes you could keep up! but once your battery died, that was it
"'social battery,' you say? any way i could be of assistance? maybe a small jolt from mjolnir to charge it back up?" -thor
"oh, no, just a figure of speech, no need for...that" -you
taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @evilcr0ne // @v0idl1nq // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 // @deanzboyfriend //
#avengers#avengers x reader#avengers imagine#tony stark x reader#tony stark imagine#tony stark#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers imagine#thor odinson imagine#clint barton imagine#natasha romanoff imagine#wanda maximoff imagine#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel x reader
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Got a short and sweet one for ya! BG3 character(s) of your choice reacting to someone going, "Aw, you two look so cute together! You should date!" and Tav—the object of his/her as of yet unspoken affections—just smiles a little bashfully and says, "Yeah, that would be nice."
Sorry it took me a a minute to get to your ask! I had originally wanted to make them longer by including the dates they would go on, but I just scrapped that idea. Maybe if people are interested I could do that part but it would be after I do some more request. Anyways I hope You enjoy the fluff!
(Astarion, Gale, Halsin , Rolan, Wyll, Zevlor)
Astarion
It's always the same game between you two; since the beginning of your journey together, you two are always teasing and pushing each other closer and closer to the edge. It's frustrating that this game continues still. You two have grown closer, having shared in victories and losses, shared in laughs and tears, but despite all this, you and Astarion remained cautious… Instead of sharing your desire and confessing this connection is real, you opt to continue in your flirtatious game of teasing and keeping yourself at arm's length. Perhaps it's childish, but you both are too accustomed to the game to quit now, not when the risk could be so painful…
Sipping on your wine, your eyes lock to Astarions, his crimson eyes watching you with a handsome smirk on his pale lips.
"Are you staring, Astarion, coming to some realizations of the heart?" The smirk widens to a grin that flashes his dangerous fangs. Astarion can't help himself from loving the way you tease…
"Only imagining how your blood must taste after so much wine."-clever as always in a response.
"Sounds like you're trying to bite, giving yourself away so easily now?" you muse as you stroll casually to sit at his side, your eyes never leaving each other.
Carefully, Astarion brushes away your hair from your neck, revealing the bruised mark left by his bite only a night ago. He can't help but lick his lips at the sight, "You're the one who gives themselves away when you ask me to feed from you." You feel your blood rush to your cheeks… He's not entirely wrong.
Brushing your hair back over your neck, trying to hide the evidence and cover the blooming rush of blood to your face, you two are caught off guard by what sounds like a slurring Shadowheart chiming into your conversation, "Aw, you two look so cute together flirting like that. You two should date already." She says with a devious smirk.
You roll your eyes. "Yeah, that would be nice," you say sarcastically; that would be the day…
Astarion studies you for a moment, watching as you roll your eyes and fold your arms to guard yourself further, but he swears he catches a glimpse of something…an opening… Before you know it, you watch him downing the remainder of his wine and taking the game up a notch, "Why not go on a date? Scared after one night alone with me, you will be smitten, darling?"
You give him a challenging look, "Maybe I will. Maybe you will be the one falling for me…" Astarion leans closer to you, "Sounds like a fun challenge… let's go out tomorrow night…"
Shadowheart can be heard gasping and giggling from the growing tension, never one to be out. Down you down your drink next and lean in close enough for only Astarion to hear you, "Fine, but the first one to fall loses… winner gets to bite the other…" Astarions hands tighten to a fist, and excitement fills his eyes with a new spark; you have yourself a deal.
Gale
Gale's breath continues to sound shaky, and his hands become more clammy by the second… He's trying so hard to repress the thrumming in his chest, but it's proving to be quite difficult at the moment. With your body pressed so close to him…he thinks at any moment he could burst into a spectacle of himself…or blow up. It has been a while since he's absorbed something, but teaching you this spell is taking precedence now.
You have expressed wanting to learn magic from him. You had been intrigued that he attended the prestigious Blackstaff Academy, and despite being a fighter and not relying on magic, you had begged for some lessons from a proper wizard. Gale didn't know if it was the fact that he has always liked to teach or that it was you who was pleading oh so sweetly, but he never answered yes to a request so quickly.
Now here you two are, the weave wrapped around you as he carefully guides your body to the proper stances, his hands on your hips that then slide to your hands praying to any god that is listening you don't not his clammy nervousness.
He need not worry, though; the only thing you seem to be able to focus on is the feeling of magic flowing from his fingertips that spark along your skin as he moves your hands. His enchanting voice whispers incantations in your ear, making the tips burn with blush. Gale's lips are so close to your face that all you would have to do is turn your head and give him a look…or even maybe ask him… for a kiss-
"Aw, you two look so cute together! You shouldn't waste time, Mr. Dekarios; you two should date!" The voice is the unmistakable Tarra, who has recently joined the camp and harps on Gale to shave his beard or settle down practically daily.
Gale lets out a long groan, causing you to chuckle. The break in concentration causes the magic weave you two worked so hard to conger to break away. Gale, fully embarrassed, starts to argue with her through hissing whispers. All you can do is giggle at the adorable sight of a man arguing with his tressum as he towers over her small form.
"Mr. Dekarios, you're not getting any younger, you know. If she seems to like you even with that thing on your face, might as well go for it." Gale's face is bright red as he tries shushing her. "Tarra, could you lower your voice? I do not need you…helping!"
Who is he kidding? He could use her nudging him along; it at least helps you finally get what you have been thinking about for a while now. In a surge of confidence, you walk over to the arguing pair, letting your voice break through their bickering: "You know, Tarra, you're right. A date would be nice… If Gale was willing…"
The argument abruptly pauses, and you watch as Gale's face turns three shades redder. He stares at you blankly, eyes wide in disbelief. It isn't until Tarra swipes his leg that he breaks from his daze. "Don't just stare! Ask Tav out; it might be your only chance before they change their mind from your awkward gawking!"
Gale swallows his dry throat, "Meet you at the library tomorrow?" You smile and nod. "It's a date!"
Gale stands there watching your figure as you walk away…." The library…really?" "Oh shut it, Tarra, I panicked!"
Halsin
Another accident, and you find yourself being patched up by no other than the camp's gentle druid. Halsins hazel eyes look like golden pools of honey in the firelight, and you're unsure what is heating your body more, the crackling fire or his hands as they wrap your wounded limps. Though he's a huge man and you're not exactly the definition of delicate, Halsin still treats you with softness and light touches; when you first met, you thought he would be loud and crass…but that wasn't Halsin… so full of surprises for you to discover.
"These accidents keep happening more and more frequently… you're sure you're not just trying to find ways to spend time with me?" you feel your heart stir, and your lips curl into a grin, always so full of surprises… The most recent discovery is his unapologetic flirting…
"Truly, I am just accident-prone. You healing me is just a perk to my affliction." Halsins eyes flash with something, and his face curls into a smile as he finishes your wrappings. "A perk, huh?" Halsins softly brushes his knuckles against your plush thighs, "I could think of better perks to indulge in if you are willing…"
Your stomach ties itself in an excited knot; damn, he needs not to tease you; you're surely to pass out to all your blood rushing to your-…as you go to say something else, two giggling voices break your concentration.
Shadowheart and Astarion have their eyes on you two with broad smiles. "Aw, you two look so cute together…" Astarion coos, then Shadowheart chimes in a second, "You should date..or something to that effect…" You give them a death glare, silently screaming at them not to ruin this moment as Halsin chuckles.
Hearing Halsins laugh causes your heart to swell, and you can't help but utter your response, "Yeah, that would be nice." That makes his laughing come to a halt, feeling your face burning in embarrassment you keep your gaze to the ground.
"Well then…" his large hand lifts your chin, your eyes meeting his, his smile addictive, and then his voice… "Just name the date, and I will be yours."
Lost in the moment your brain evaporates from rational thought to pure desire, "How about right now…"
"Cheeky!" Astarion calls but is promptly silenced by Shadowheart
Halsin leans in his honeyed breath, teasing your ear, "Meet me by the river in ten minutes…"
Rolan
He doesn't mean to stare… Rolan can't help it; you're just so magnificent… Not only are you stunning to look at, but you're also so incredibly kind. Nobody had asked you to start working at sundries you just offered after everything. Rolan couldn't believe that the gate's mighty hero wanted to have a slower-paced life by working at his newly required shop.
Though he should, it only made sense that you would offer to help him with the shop. You had been completely smitten with him from the first moment you saw him at the grove. Your affections only grew the more your paths intertwined, so you wanted to work close by and help him. It was nearly impossible for you to be away from him. He had become one of your closest confidants and your friend.
You hoped your affections would have been evident at this point, but Rolan still hadn't asked you out or attempted to allude to courting you; you're starting to lose hope that he ever would. Maybe fate distended you two to stay just close friends…Maybe he is meant to be in your life, just…not in the way your heart hoped… it's better to have him as a friend than not at all, right?
You try to push down the heart-aching thought and continue to gather tomes for customers' orders. And just like fate seems to have it, the one time you need to finish the order request happens to be on that pesky wobbly shelf at the bottom of a stack right on the top shelf because, of course, it is…
Lea'zel, despite Cal's best efforts to teach her otherwise, is still learning how to stack the books properly… Rolan had given up the task of correcting her when she just clicked her teeth, stating, "As long as they are away, it should not matter, Wizard…" You would have to be a fool to try and argue with her, though Rolan did attempt…
Putting down your stack, you struggle on tip-toes to get the tome down. Despite Rolan's warnings, you stand on the bottom shelf for just the slightest high boost, then it starts to tip…and it's too late to avoid crashing down. Squeezing your eyes shut to brace for the pain of being toppled by books, you find that you don't feel books hitting you. You feel a warmth on your back and a familiar hand on your shoulder.
Looking up, you see Rolan pushing the wobbly furniture back in place as he keeps you pinned between him and the shelf. Turning around, you smile at him as your dashing savior this time around. Rolan gives you a smile in return, but before he can playfully chastise you for ignoring his warnings, a sharp wolf whistle breaks your focus.
"Aw, you two look so cute together like that. You should date!" Rolan's face gets redder, and you feel your voice squeak out of you in surprise. Before he can continue taunting, Lea'zel pinches his ear and drags him off, muttering, "Let them come to their senses finally." Of course, they both noticed before you two did.
In a whisper, you find some courage. "Yeah, a date would be nice…" Your face is as bright red as his. Still pinned, he leans down closer, his hand moving down your arm. "Go out with me on a date…" You bite your lip in excitement. With an eager nod, you say yes. Finally, he asked.
Wyll
You could have asked anyone to spare with you, but Wyll was by far your favorite, and not only because he was absolutely handsome, but also because he was an incredible fighter. Wyll always kept you on your toes and even had some good one-liners and witty remarks. Plus, your mind often wanders back to that time he swatted your rear with the blunt side of his sword to taunt you; a shiver still races down your spine at the thought of some more Wyll spankings…
You two had been clashing swords and swapping excited grins during this match. Finally, with a swift movement, you're able to bat away his weapon and swiftly sweep his legs, making him crash to the ground. You're quick to get on top of him and wrestle with him till, finally, you're getting both his wrists over his head. Your excitement is shown through your smile, matched by Wyll, as your body presses closer to his to keep him pinned and at your mercy.
"What is this? Four to two? You're off your game, Blade of Frontiers." You taunt with a devious smirk. "How do you know you're not right where I want you?" Wyll squirms, making you tighten your grip. You lean down to his face to tease back, but a sharp whistle from Karlach stops you two. "Aw, You two look so cute together~ You should go on a date…or something…" She gives a wink before walking away.
Wyll feels himself blush but smiles as he sees the red rush on your cheeks. You see his grin, and you can't help but smile back down at him. "Yeah, that would be nice." Your sultry words make Wyll's heart feel like it could burst. Leaning down to his lips, Wyll takes the opportunity to free his hands and pull you closer, then flips you to your back, pinning you down now.
"Go out with me…call me old fashioned, but I think I should take you for a date before I ravish you…" With words like that, how could you not agree?
Zevlor
Old habits die hard…and Zevlor's habit is taking long walks around the city, something similar to perimeter checks he used to do back in the day. It's hard to go from having daily routines to nothing strenuous, so he made his walks part of his day, even though walking in a city you see every day dulls after a while.
Though lately, those once quiet walks filled with reflection are a lot more enjoyable now that you have joined him. At first, Zevlor was unsure why you would want to take the sundown walks with him. But he enjoyed your company with him too much to ask at the risk of scaring you off. It's not like you would be interested in an older man like him anyway. It's Best not to get his hopes up.
Little does he know, you're completely enamored with him. He could read a dictionary or do something as dull as pulling weeds, and you would still find a way to include yourself just to be close to him. So when you learned about his daily walks, you were sure to invite yourself. Zevlor, ever the kind soul, was just happy for the company. Your two took your walks together to talk about your philosophy on life, your past, and, much to your delight, some ideal gossip. Zevlor taunted you for being nosy, but you defended yourself by saying that it's always good for a person to be aware of a city's dealings, even if they might seem small.
Zevlor treasured these small moments with you, listening to your endless chatting and hopeful ideas. Sometimes, you would even pass some jokes to get him to laugh. But today's walk was different. He was going to put his feelings forward. Was he going to confess? No… he's too shy for that. He was just going to see if he could hold your hand. That should be innocent enough, right?
While on the walk, you're watching the setting sun shine against his red skin, making the fires of his eyes look golden. You two have slowly started to drift closer and closer, hands softly brushing together, conversation flowing. Then, right as Zevlor is working up the nerve to reach for your hand, he hears someone call both your names.
Turning, you see a cozy-looking Alfria and Lakrissa, hand in hand. "Aw, you two look so cute together! You should date!" Alfria chimes before Lakrissa nudges her girlfriend not to tease. Zevlor feels his face turn marron before quickly clasping his hands behind his back. You think yourself equally blush before smiling and calling back to the two girls, "Yeah, that would be nice!"
The two girls give each other a look before they grin ear to ear at Zevlor's flushed expression. They quickly stroll away to let Zevlor make his next move. With a deep breath, Zevlor grounds himself before straightening his posture and turning to you. "Tav, would you do me the honor and accompany me on a date tomorrow evening…"
You try to bite back your excitement, but with his blushing face and your heart squeezing, you can't help yourself; you feel like you could explode, "Yes! ah…I mean…I think that sounds absolutely lovely Zev…" He hopes you don't notice how his tail starts to wag, and you hope he doesn't see when you shoot the two girls a thumbs up.
#bg3#baldur's gate fic#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate 3 fanfiction#bg3 fanfic#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 x reader#bg3 x you#bg3 x tav#bg3 rolan#bg3 gale#bg3 astarion#bg3 wyll#bg3 halsin#bg3 zevlor#zevlor x reader#rolan x reader#halsin x reader#wyll x reader#gale x reader#astarion x reader#astarion#gale dekarios#wyll ravengard#halsin#rolan#zevlor
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Celebration Baby, Literally! (CL16) [Blind Items AU]
(Part 6 in the Blind Items AU [can be read separately])
Summary: 8 months after Charles Monaco win, the fans get to see just how hard he celebrated
“Ohhhhhhh mate, you have been outed!” Pierre laughes as he shoves his phone into Charles’ face.
“Pierre, I cannot read when you put the screen in my eyes like that, back up” Charles responds as he shoves his longtime friend. Like many of the other victims of the ‘F1 Blind Items’ account, Charles’ face drains of color as he sees what they are saying. While there is some truth to the rumor, it still is far from correct. “Ah! Merde, they got so much wrong, mate!”
“What's wrong, honey?” Charles’ girlfriend calls from the other room where she is sitting with Pierre’s girlfriend. The couple decided to join the Gasly house for a nice dinner, although reading the post surely made Charles lose his appetite.
Charles and Pierre look at each other as they realize she heard them. The one thing the post got right was that his girlfriend was very pregnant with what is most likely a post-win conceived baby. There was no reason to stress her out when she was so offline it would take a while for her to learn about the rumor, giving Charles enough time to convince her to go public and try to make this into the smallest problem possible.
“Nothing, baby. I love you” He responded as he made a ‘stay silent’ motion at Pierre.
“Um okay, love you too?” was all she replied, not believing in the slightest that this was nothing.
It didn’t help that for the rest of the night, Charles was off in his own world, thinking of how he was going to execute his terribly thought out plan. But she wasn’t going to interrogate him on it, at least not again, she had already asked him multiple times if he was okay and if he wanted to talk but he would always answer with a “I am fine, beautiful. How can I not be when the woman I love most is pregnant with our child.” While it was charming, she still wasn’t convinced he was okay after all.
After hours of deliberation, as he sat outside the bathtub while his girlfriend relaxed in it, he finally spoke his mind.
“We should tell people” is the best he came up with after hours of thinking.
“Tell people what?”
“About the baby”
“We told people about the baby”
“I mean like everyone, we should go public.”
She turned her neck to fully face him at that.
“Where is this coming from? Why now?” She asked.
“No reason”
“You are a shit liar, Leclerc, tell me why.”
“People know”
“What people know?” She asked. God, he was awful at explaining things.
“Everyone.”
“Then why would we need to tell them?”
Right when he was about to reply, he closed his mouth. Why would he need to tell people? While the Blind Items account had become a reliable source as they had yet to be wrong, there wasn’t any reason to actually address the issue, at least not till the baby was born, which would happen during winter break.
“...I guess we don’t need to. It's just- there is this account that posts rumors about the drivers that so far have always been true, but one came out about us and it isn’t really that correct, I just thought we should squash it.”
“What did they say that wasn’t correct?” She questioned.
“They implied we only got together because of the baby, and that we weren’t dating before I uh, knocked you up.” The ‘very public breakup’ the post referred to, was an actual breakup that happened a year prior to the world knowing. It was another very private relationship, as Charles became more famous and ‘sought after’ he liked to keep relationships from the limelight till they got serious in order to protect his girlfriends. But when his ex had found out just how serious things were with his current girlfriend, she wanted to bring it to light in order to get her 15 minutes of fame, which ended up being more like 2 minutes. As terrible as it was, once the public knew she had no connection to Charles anymore, they lost interest in her.
After requesting he pull up the post, Charles handed his phone to his girlfriend so she could read.
“Is this what you are worried about? The part about me getting a ring for a ‘push present’? Don’t want me getting any ideas?” She joked. They had been together long enough and were about to have a baby, so the idea of getting engaged took up about 65% of the monégasque’s thoughts, the rest being about her and the baby, maybe 5% in total was devoted to F1.
“Ah no, my love, you know that is not it. Although an engagement ring would already happen even without our baby, so I will get you something else as well as a present” He said as he kissed her shoulder, then her neck, then her cheek, finally landing on her lips.
“We don’t need to say anything, let us enjoy the privacy for a while longer. Wouldn’t it be better to go into the upcoming season with a baby and a financée?” She asked.
She was right, why not make an even bigger entrance by saying nothing and letting the rumor die down, in order to enjoy the bliss of privacy for a little while longer.
“That sounds wonderful, mon amour. Absolutely perfect.”
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AITA for being nice to a co-worker who doesn't like men?
I think a girl (20F) at my work doesn't like men. I've been going out of my way to be nice to her and nothing works. AITA? How can I get her to want to talk to me?
I'm 28M and I started at my job about 3 weeks ago. There's this girl, Brandi, I work with sometimes who I really like. I was shy as a kid and I've been trying to come out of my shell more lately, and make an effort with people. Going out of my comfort zone and talk to people, all that. So I decided to try to give Brandi 1 compliment every day I saw her. And it wasn't creep shit like "nice ass" or anything that would make her uncomfortable. Stuff like that she has a pretty smile, or beautiful eyes, or that kind of thing.
But I feel like whenever I do it, she gets kind of weird, and goes away from me. SHE HAS NOT TOLD ME TO STOP or that I make her uncomfortable. She just does kind of a weird smile and says thanks and goes away. I feel like she doesn't want to talk to me at all now. On Friday I even put a little note in the pocket of her jacket. It just said "You look nice today, Brandi!" with a smiley face. I just thought it would be nice and make her smile. She never said anything about it.
I told my sister (26F) about it and Sis said I was being an asshole and should leave Brandi alone. I calmly reminded my sister that SHE HAS NOT TOLD ME TO STOP so why would I need to? My sister didn't have a good answer so she changed the subject and wouldn't talk about Brandi any more.
Then I told my friend (32M) about Brandi, and he said she probably spends too much time on social media where women are being taught to be afraid of all men. It all clicked when he said that, it makes sense. Why else would she act like she doesn't want to be around me or talk to me, when all I do is be nice to her and try to make her happy? I also realized she talks way more to girls than men, and doesn't seem as friendly with them.
AITA for being nice to Brandi? And what can I do to show her not to be afraid of me? I don't know what nice things to say to her that I haven't already said.
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p. personaltrainer!shotaro x fem!reader | warnings: | words: ~ 0.8k (859) 🦦ㆍ₊⊹
authors note. if you saw me going crazy over that taro pic then you understand me now
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
you didn't want a personal trainer, but your best friend thought it would be best since you didn't really know what to do in the gym. “he does night appointments so you won't be embarrassed because of the people in the gym.”
eventually you caved, calling the man, he gave you a time and a date; telling you to wear something comfortable and moveable.
when the day comes you out on your matching set that you bought the day prior, the appointment was at 6:30 pm and you got there around 6:25, waiting for the man you talked with on the phone. your hands were clammy, you felt nervous. about to say fuck it and go home and stuff your face. “hello.” you turn around and there he is, a smile on his face. “I'm shotaro, you must be yn.” you nodded. “he-hello.” you waved.
“let's get started, let's stretch first, i know this is your first time and we don't want you to be in pain in the morning.” he was too nice, guiding you through the stretches. “good job.” he came up behind you. “you're doing so good.” you gulped , you knew he meant no harm , but your mind couldn't help going to a dirty place. “okay, now with some squats.”
shotaro watched you through the mirror; his eyes trained on your ass, the way the sweat rolled down your forehead and into the crease of your bust; his cock hardening in his shorts. your friend had called him and told him a little bit about you and he was intrigued, you were a bit timid, jumpy everytime he touched you to readjust your positions; it made him smile, you were cute.
your plushy thigh that he could only dream of putting his face in between. by the time the appointment was over, shotaro was painfully hard— you weren't any better though, your underwear was soaked. his touch felt like fire, you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from whimpering or letting out an embarrassing moan.
“you did such a good job today.” he handed you a water bottle. “if you keep it up you'll get to your goal weight.” your eyes lit. “really?” he watched you, smiling at how happy you were. “go shower.” you nodded, he watched you walk away.
you let the water run down your body, the hot water soothing the already sore muscles; your hands finding it's way in between your thighs, you let out a moan, thank god there was no one else in there. — that you know of. “fu-fuck.” you cursed, letting your fingers run along your slit.
your eyes were closed and you were moaning so loud, you didn't hear the door open, shotaro walking in. your hand came up to your boobs, squeezing them; one of your fingers teasing your waiting hole.
before you could even push a finger inside you were pushed against the wall. “fuck, I tired to wait.” shotaro groaned against your ear. “but you were moaning so fucking loud.” you felt his cock twitching against your ass. “m’need to fuck you.” he kissed along your neck. “pl- please.” you moaned.
he held your back in a arch as he seethed his cock inside you, moaning. “oh fuck, been wanting to do that since i walked in and saw you in that tight outfit.” the sound of your wet bodies along with yours moans bouncing off the empty walls. “fuck shotaro!”
“shit your pussy feels so good.” he groaned. “so tight.” he was fucking you so good, your precious tits were bouncing with his thrust. “sh-shotaro I'm gonna cum.” he moaned as your pussy squeezed him. “shit cum for baby.” he reached in front running your clit. “cum all over my cock.”
you moaned out, letting yourself go, legs shaking as you came. “shit shit shit.” shotaro cursed, pulling out cumming all over your back. “fuck.” he stroked himself until he had no more to give.
after cleaning up, and getting dressed; you two exited the bathroom. “i think I'll have to find a new gym, I can't show my face here.” you said embarrassed. “why would you do that when i own the gym?” he said, your eyes widened, your friend didn't tell you he was the owner. “that just makes it even worse.” he smiled, grabbing your hand. “why is that, so what I helped you work out in more ways then one.” he smirked, your face heated up. “stop it.” you whined, he laughed. “fine, come back or don't come back but I'm serious about you working out considering, i really want you to meet your goal.” he said making your heart flutter. “and maybe if you're free we can go get dinner.”
“me?” you questioned. “yes you.” he said. “i wanted to ask you that first, but things got out of hand.” he said. “what do you say?” you smiled nodding. “sure.” he kissed your hand goodnight after walking you to your car. “I'll call you.” he said watching you drive away.
you drove all the way home with a dumb smile on your face.
©️LUVYENI
#kpop smut#kpop x reader#riize hard hours#riize smut#riize x imagine#riize x reader#riize imagines#riize hard thoughts#shotaro oneshot#shotaro smut#shotaro fic#shotaro x reader#shotaro hard hours#shotaro hard thoughts
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SWEET LOVE - CAITLIN CLARK
summary𞠬: hiii could you write caitlin clark x reader where she has a crush on a singer in the same level as taylor swift (like super famous, eyes on them all the time etc etc etc) pls and thank u!!
warnings:N/A (at least i don’t think so)
tags: @patscorner @wintersstan @pbueckerslover @h34rtsformilli @cosmopretty
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ITS BEEN TWO DAYS since your encounter with caitlin. it’s been a weird experience knowing that you two were staying in the same hotel.
sure you never ran into each other due to your different schedules, but knowing she was here was enough to get you on edge, even more today, you’re manger had told you that they got courtside tickets to iowas game.
just your luck, sure you didn’t mind going to the game but knowing thousands of people are going to be there that knew who she was and who you were.
-
as you walked in eyes and cameras were immediately on you, you tried your hardest to ignore them and enjoy the game but it was difficult with people coming up to you and asking for photos or autographs. surely as soon as the players started to come out everything died down.
but your heart rate didn’t, as soon as she stepped on the court your heart rate picked up the way her ponytail moved with her movements, she got to her spot on the court ready to start her warmups when her eyes landed on yours.
a smile made its way to her face and she gave you a small wave which you returned as she turned her focus back towards her warmups.
throughout the whole game you tried your hardest not to look at her but your eyes kept moving towards her and everything she did.
as the game came to an end you got your things ready to leave when a hand tapped your shoulder “hey!” you said with a smile “hi! thank you so much for coming to my game” said caitlin with a huge smile going in for a side hug “of course, you guys did amazing!”
“hey by any chance are you free this weekend?” asked caitlin fidgeting with the towel she had in her hands “yea, i should be free” you said looking back at your manager who gave you a slight nod as to say yes. “okay, because i was wondering if you would want to maybe go have lunch or dinner with me” she whispered the last part but not low enough for you not to hear her, “sure i would love to! here’s my number and text me the details later” you replied scribbling down your number on a piece of paper.
-
the weekend came faster than you could imagine, nerves were bubbling in your stomach as the time for your date with caitlin arrived. you were doing some finishing touches when your phone lit up with a notification “i’m outside :)”
butterflies filled your stomach as you read the message. she was outside your hotel room you couldn’t believe it, quickly gathering your things you headed towards the door. opening it you were met with a very nervous looking caitlin, at least you weren’t the only one, you smiled at her “hey” you said trying to ease up your own nerves “hi, ready?” she replied with a shy smile “yup! where are we headed?” you asked closing your door and walking to the elevator.
“you’ll see” replied caitlin with a look in her eyes you couldn’t quite figure out. walking down the streets of ohio you came across this cute little italian restaurant, you look at caitlin to see she’s already looking at you with a lovestruck smile. she opens the door for you “welcome to valerio’s do you have a reservation?” said the waitress with a friendly smile “yes! it’s under the name caitlin”
“right this way” said the waitress as she led you guys to a table near a window. “this is nice” you spoke looking around taking in the restaurant and how beautiful it was “the best italian restaurant here in cleveland” she says looking at you.
FAMOUS SINGER Y/N L/N WAS SEEN AT VALERIO’S ITALIAN RESTAURANT WITH AN UNKNOWN PERSON. WE SUSPECT SHE MAY BE SEEING SOMEONE, THE SINGER WAS LAST SEEN WITH.. read more
#caitlin clark x reader#caitlin clark#wnba#wcbb x reader#wlw#fanfic#wcbb#iowa wbb#iowa hawkeyes#iowa women’s basketball#university of iowa#iowa state#wnba x reader#wnba basketball#ncaa wbb#wbb x reader#lesbian#lgbtq
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Imagine Retired!Price who has nothing to do in his new found free time
His team was finally able to convince him to put down the gun and rest. He's done more than enough for others.
But after years of constant movement and missions he isn't comfortable with sitting in one place.
He starts to go on long walk in the afternoon to fill his time
Mostly people watching or checking out the local businesses.
One night as chilly afternoon turns into a cold evening he finds himself wondering into retro diner all lit up by neon lights.
He finds a booth and takes a look around at the polished but dated looking restaurant.
it brought him a feeling of comfort he hadn't felt in a long time.
"Hello sir, can I get you a drink to start?" A sweet voice chirps
He turn to meet your sunny smile all dressed up in a baby pink button up dress, waist cinched with a mini apron. Hair pulled back with a matching bow.
"Hello..." John looks down to your name tag. "Bunny?"
"Oh" you laugh, "It's just a nickname. The old timers think it's cute"
"What does that say about me, then?"
"You don't look too old to me."
"Let me get a coffee, bunny"
From that point on John made sure to come by the diner every night.
Rain, sleet, or shine you could bet he would be there.
You weren't there every night of course but it thrilled him to think of the possibility of seeing you again.
Always greeting him with a, "Hey stranger" or "You come here often?"
Always dressed in that little faded pink dress.
Your conversation started to take up more of your shift as time went on.
Evolving from cordial to friendly and occasionally flirty.
"Bunny, what does your boyfriend think of you working all the time?"
"I don't have a boyfriend, John"
"Then what do you do all day when you're not here?"
"Waiting for you to ask me on a date"
Then you both laugh but John knows his time will come and he's a patient man.
He was always a generous tipper, even before the flirting
He loved to watch you run around the place, espically when it was busy.
You handled yourself well under pressure. Never letting a difficult customer get under your skin.
He love to way you look after a long shift with your hair slightly tousled with a pen or two stuck somewhere in your hair or behind your ear.
He'll stack his empty plates up nicely to make it easier for you to pick up.
Pushing them to the edge of the table signaling to you he was finished up.
He made sure they were steady too, especially so after one unlucky afternoon that had you sweeping up the shards of glass under his table with an embarassed blush warming your cheeks.
But seeing you on your knees sweeping up your mess made unpure thoughts flood his mind.
He began thinking about what you wear outside of work.
What you wear when you go out.
What you look like when you don't wear anything at all.
Then one rainy afternoon, John blows in to find his usual booth vacant and waits patiently for your typical sweet greeting.
Instead you rush over and drop his coffee on the table with a thud causing tiny brown droplets to splatter over the thick rim of the diner mug.
"What's crawled up your skirt, little rabbit?" John chuckles.
You frown down at him, pulling your notebook and a pen from your apron pocket. "I'm not in the mood today. What do you want to eat?"
"I know I was a little late but, the it's pouring outside. Don't be upset with me, bunny" He says, refusing to drop his joking tone.
"John" You snip.
He likes the way you say his name when you're angry.
"What's wrong?" He looks up at you with sincerity and you finally drop your arms and sigh.
"It's been a hard day. My boss is just being a total tool. The other waitresses are shit and no one is tipping well. Don't say anything but, I think I'm gonna put in my two weeks" You're words tumble from you in a rush.
"You're going to quit?"
"I can't keep working like this. I hardly make enough for rent and I still have no time to myself," You take a breath and shake your head. "Sorry, I shouldn't talk about money stuff with you. You're just here for dinner."
"Let me help you,"
"No, I don't need help. I'm fine, just a little overworked. I shouldn't have brought it up. Forget it."
"Let me take care of you"
You laugh but he does not.
"Come live with me, you'll never have to work again."
"Okay stop now, this isn't funny."
"Do you see me laughing?"
"You don't even know my real name"
"Aren't you tired? You're far too pretty to be so stressed. This job will always be here if you change your mind. I don't think you will though."
━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━
A/N: This turned out longer than anticipated but hope you enjoy. I just want a Price to sweep me off my feet and make me a house wife :'-)
ﾒ𝟶
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