#I'msosorry
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"#DISRESPECT YOUR SURROUNDINGS" Lol
BEEP BEEP MOTHERFUCKERS
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@redrulebook
And the culprit is right here...
Hoping he will never know it was her that started that.
#DASH: Across the Courtyard I See-#redrulebook#IC: Misplaced Prefect Present#((I'm going through Book 6 and just-#Me: Riddle is a hedgehog. A bright red very angry bitey hedgehog now#I'msosorry))
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Found this in Michael's today
#really did make my day tho#good children (i assume)#(I can't judge because my handwriting is also terrible so if this was an adult I'msosorry)
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And Then It Was [ZCL] (M)
Description: After your marriage with Chenle was arranged by your parents for a company merger, things with him aren't quite like you expect. In your life full of obligations, he's determined to finally give you the ability to make your own choices. Genre: Smut/Fluff/Angst (arranged marriage!au, rich families using their children as business mergers yk) Content Warnings: Rich, generational family trauma, family secrets, reader in her men suck era, explicit, protected sex, mentions of pregnancy (no actual pregnancy in the fic), reader feels obligated to have children, explicit, unprotected sex, use of the pet names 'baby' and 'darling', dirty talk, oral (f receiving) Word Count: 28.2k Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!Reader (features Jeno, Jisung, Jaemin, and Mark, but mostly Jeno and Jisung! (sorry idk where Renjun and Haechan are in this fic?????)) A/N: Y'all tumblr really f'in hates me because it was so difficult to format this fic? like it did not want to let me put the whole thing on here. So if the last section is oddly formatted, that's why and I'msosorry :'( (p.s. thank you so much for 700 followers!!!)
Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :) Taglist: @midmourn @nominsgirl @winwinscvnt @bugcattie @sleepyvic @chenlesfeetpic @tolerable-tears @yutaswh0re @bitchzitschimi @velvtcherie @leefullsun @pnkified @valerieluvsyu @defzcl
Chenle’s hand grips yours loosely, resting between the two of you right on the crack between the couch cushions. All of this is a formality, down to the smile plastered on your face. It started out simple, like something out of a movie, honestly, but even movies have to roll the end credits at some point.
“So, tell us the story of how you met,” the interviewer begins, crossing her legs as she looks at you in complete interest.
“We’ve known each other for ages,” Chenle says.
Lie. You’ve known of each other for ages. You’re only here with an oversized ring on your finger to complete your family’s merger with Chenle’s. What big news that was, two heirs of two of the biggest companies around the world falling in love. If only that were true in the slightest.
“Wow, way to make it sound romantic.” You laugh, reaching across to push his arm—gently, of course. “He makes it so lackluster. But to be completely transparent, it wasn’t…anything crazy. We did meet years ago, and we’ve been friends since then. Gosh, probably since we were sixteen?”
“Fifteen,” Chenle corrects you and sends an award winning smile your way. You’d be inclined to believe him if everything wasn’t scripted.
“He always has been a little more detail-oriented than me.”
The interview drags. You and Chenle were officially married just over a month ago, and while you know it’s your owed duty to your family, you wish optics weren’t so important. After all, legally binding yourself to secure a company was one thing, but physically binding yourself to a man you barely know? You wouldn’t dream of it. Even holding his hand feels odd, not to mention his palms are sweaty.
Your honeymoon had ended shortly before the interview. You’d been gone for four weeks, and it was the last bit of privacy you’d have when it comes to your ‘relationship’ with Chenle. You got to know him enough to where you’d be comfortable sharing an oversized house with him, but there were still a lot of mysteries between you two—mysteries you were sure would never get solved. There are a lot of good things about Chenle. He’s smarter than most people you’ve met, he knows how to make jokes and take them, he’s nice to look at, to hold a conversation with, but you don’t love him. You’d been of the mind that you wanted to marry for love since you were young, but some things are overshadowed by your duties. By money.
“There aren’t many people in this world that don’t just…immediately bow down to powerful men. It was…interesting to say the least, because throughout my entire life I’d always just been given respect. From the moment I met (Y/N), I knew I’d have to work for it. For her respect, I mean. She’s just as confident and much more intelligent than any other man I’ve ever worked with.” Chenle squeezes your hand.
That wasn’t in the script. It’s almost enough to have you break character and forget your next line. “Is that so?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he chuckles.
“Tried and true,” he replies with ease. “You really are extraordinary, you know.”
Can’t script a blush rising to your cheeks. It’s something about the way he makes direct eye contact with you that has your face burning.
Grinning, he turns back to the interviewer. “I have a lot of things to be grateful for in life. Truly, I do. I’m very fortunate for all of the good my family has done for me and for having things set up for me from the start. One thing I never could’ve imagined was that it could get better. Meeting her changed my life, and if I had to, I’d give everything else to keep her next to me.”
That time, your smile does fall, but you quickly catch yourself. Your heart picks up its pace in your chest, but you know it’s all part of the script. It has to be. He’d never give up his money, his family, his lifestyle for something as simple as you. You desperately want to pull your hand away, but you’ll wait until the cameras stop rolling.
As soon as you and Chenle are behind the tinted windows of his car, you drop his hand and scoot all the way over to have some semblance of peace. None of this truly makes sense to you. You’re much too young to be worried about your marriage to another person equally as young as you, yet you can’t help but mull over each word that left his mouth today.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
“Of course.” You pull your phone out of your purse and scroll through your social media with a sigh.
The driver pulls away from the spot, and after a few minutes, you look over to find Chenle watching you.
“What?”
“Is that it?” He clasps his hands together in his lap.
You scoff. “Oh, I’m sorry. Are we to keep acting while we’re alone, too? It’s exhausting.”
“You don’t even want to…try to keep getting to know each other? You’re just done?” He pauses, tongue wetting his lips. “We’re here for the long haul, (Y/N). We signed a legally binding contract. Divorce isn’t an option ever. We may as well try and—”
“All due respect, Chenle, I’d rather not know you. What happens if I do, and then I hate everything about you? Ignorance is bliss. Why risk hating you when I can just tolerate you instead?”
“Is it the hate you don’t want to risk?” His question catches you off guard, the confidence laced in his tone sending sparks of irritation through you.
“Are you insinuating that you think I could fall in love with you?”
“There’s no insinuation. I’ll tell you with full certainty that you would.” Chenle’s dark eyes narrow, and he shifts in his seat. “You fear failure. But a marriage failure would be easier if you’re not in love, right? No feelings to cloud your logical judgment.”
“For such a smart man, that was an incredibly stupid statement.” You scoff, setting your phone in your lap. “This is a job, not a marriage.”
“Not according to our sealed certificate.”
“Burn it for all I care. I’m not here for you. I’m here for my family, so I could’ve been married off to anyone. Don’t think that means I’ll allow you to control me. What’s mine is still mine. If I choose to see someone outside the marriage, that’s my own choice.”
“Ah.” He inhales slowly. “You’re already in love.”
“Wrong again.”
“Then why is that the first thing you say?”
“Because I have a duty to you. An obligation. But that does not mean you’re obligated to my heart.” You look straight forward, refusing to acknowledge the heat of his stare boring into your side.
“At least make sure you’re using protection.” He clicks his tongue.
“That was also in the contract. Didn’t you read it?” You tap your foot. “‘Extramarital relations require usage of effective birth control methods, and I may not bear another man’s child.’”
“I’m sorry, what?” He gapes at you. “Are you serious right now?”
When you laugh, his eyebrows furrow deeply.
“What’s funny?”
“No, no, I just forgot. You’re the man. You’re expected to stray from the marriage because you obviously don’t have everything life can offer. It’s okay for you to get someone else pregnant because you don’t have to physically have the child. Ridiculous.”
“And you think that’s my intention? Seriously?”
“It’s an expectation in every arranged marriage, I assume.” You cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t care what you do, Chenle. Just act like you respect me at least.”
“Okay, now hold on.” He scratches his forehead, his thought process basically written out across his face. “You were the one that mentioned extramarital relationships. I was never going to suggest it because I’d never do something like that. I don’t care what our…relationship is like, it’s still a marriage. You’re my wife, whether we like it or not, and I’m not going to do anything that would undermine you or the legacy you’ve already created. Regardless of what you believe, I do respect you. Honestly.”
“I…” you trail off, swallowing roughly. “I’d prefer silence for the rest of the drive.”
Chenle runs his tongue over his teeth, but he nods.
“Do we have to share a room?” you ask as you take your earrings out. Placing them on the vanity in front of you, you stare at Chenle through the mirror, watching as he removes his suit jacket and tie.
“We don’t have to do anything.” Chenle shakes his head and untucks his shirt from his pants. “If that’s what you want, I’ll stay in another room.”
“What?” You frown. “This is your house. You should keep the master bedroom.”
“Stop thinking like that,” he says, working on his buttons. “It’s yours now, too.”
He stops halfway down, grabbing his shirt and sweatpants to change into.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” His voice seems different, almost cold. Distant.
“Chenle,” you call out, turning in your chair to face him directly.
He sighs, stops, and looks back at you. “Yeah?”
“Before you go, can we…get something out of the way?”
“More things.” He presses his lips together in a thin line, but eventually nods and takes a few steps closer. “By all means.”
This time, it’s your palms that are sweating. You grip the armrest and flounder for the words you want to say. It’s rare for you to get flustered or shy with anyone, so acting this way in front of him has heat rising to your cheeks.
“We’re expected to have children,” you finally spit out. “Heirs. We carry two legacies on our backs.”
He shifts on his feet, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he glances away from you. “This is what you want to get out of the way?”
“I…I just think it’s a good idea for us to put our…expectations out there early.”
“About sex or babies?”
“The only reason we’d ever…is to have babies.” You try to maintain your strong facade, but the conversation makes you more nervous than you’d care to admit.
“Right, because thinking that you’re sleeping with me out of obligation is incredibly sexy.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “We don’t even have to have sex to get you pregnant, you know. There are other options. Do you even actually want children? Or is that purely out of obligation as well?”
“Everything I do is out of obligation.”
“Not anymore.” He walks closer, resting his hand on the edge of the vanity. “You’re my wife now. You do what you want, and you do it for you. No one else. Understood?”
You stand up, obliterating the minuscule distance between the two of you. Your chest almost brushes his, and you’re nearly distracted by his half-unbuttoned shirt. Tilting your head, you scan over his face.
“You’re saying there’s not anything you want from me?”
“Wanting and demanding are two very different things.” He doesn’t back down, his impenetrable gaze locked on yours.
“And what is it that you want?”
“For someone who doesn’t care, you sure are inquisitive,” Chenle remarks.
“Don’t let my level of interest stop you.”
His eyes narrow. “How long have we known each other?”
“I can tell you our first real conversation was just over six months ago. We were informed of this…situation.” You sigh. “Why?”
“I was relieved to find out it was you.” He gulps. “To know that you are someone I’m…attracted to. That we could maybe one day have something real in the wake of this…joke of an arrangement.”
“Relieved?”
“Yes.” He nods without hesitation. “And that is what I want. A real life, real love, real family. And while everything else may not be ideal, I’d never force you to give me any of those things. As I’ve said, you’re free to make your own choices. Whether they include me or not.”
His voice is soft, barely carrying over to you from his spot mere inches away. Your heart pounds in your chest from his proximity, his words, him. You don’t want to risk anything, and the consequences far outweigh the rewards of a relationship like this.
“Good.” You nod. “I’ll remember that.”
“I expect nothing less.” He takes a step back, unintentionally shattering the tension between the two of you. “Have a good night, (Y/N).”
But for some reason, once he closes the door behind him and leaves you alone in this giant, extravagant bedroom, you truly wonder what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into.
“I mean, is that a bad thing?” Jisung’s voice carries through the phone, shuffling around with documents in the background.
Your cousin always did have trouble seeing things from your side. You sigh. “It is a bad thing. Why can’t he just be a normal man? I’m not going to beg anyone to impregnate me, if that’s what he’s waiting for—”
“(Y/N),” he says, tone laced with disbelief. “After that whole conversation, that’s what you got out of that? That he wants you to beg him?”
“What else am I supposed to get?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you study yourself in the mirror. Despite the stress as of late, you still seem miraculously put together.
“That he actually cares about you. And wants something real.”
“Then his family picked his wife incorrectly,” you insist. “I’m here because I was told to be. And why risk a lifetime of unhappiness and hate when we could just…tolerate each other?”
“Not everything has to be—”
“You were supposed to be on my side for this.” Your chest deflates, and you put him on speaker to apply your lipstick and put your earrings in.
“I’m always on your side, even if you think I’m not. I’ve met Chenle, too. You could’ve been much worse off for a company merger.”
“Right, so I should be grateful?” You snort. “Grateful that my husband doesn’t want to have—”
“Insufferable,” your cousin cuts you off. “You’re insufferable. The whole world is not out to get you. In the position you’re in, you need every single ally you can get. Chenle especially. He’s one of the most powerful men in the country. Imagine what that could do for you.”
“Yes, because powerful men are so enticing for me.” You roll your eyes.
“You don’t have to love him. Nobody expects that of you, but you can at least be friends with him.” Jisung clicks his tongue. “Give him a shot, okay? He’s not an asshole, and from what you’ve told me, he seems to be trying with you.”
You tap your fingers on the vanity. “I have a business meeting with him and his board. Guess I’ll see you in a few.”
“That you will. Talk to you soon.”
As the line cuts, you head out of Chenle’s—your—room, and head down the hall and out the door. Today is a new day, and the first way to present your dominance to your husband is to talk business. You’ve always been good at keeping your composure. While the buildings for your family’s company and Chenle’s were on opposite sides of town, the merger gave you unlimited access to both. Chenle was his own respective CEO, while your father still held the technical title at yours.
COO had been sitting in your pocket for years, and your father told you the only way he’d relinquish his CEO title onto you is if you married. And produced an heir without any public miscommunication. Essentially, your heir would, under no uncertain circumstances, be conceived and birthed in a conventional way.
You’re the last one to arrive in the conference room. The walls are mostly windows, overlooking the bustling city below you. You inhale deeply at the sight, and Chenle looks up at you, standing as soon as he finds you in the room. The rest of the board follows suit, and you almost scowl at the realization that the only open seat is right next to your husband. You don’t recognize any of them since this is solely for Chenle, but he insisted you were to be included on all business discussions from the moment you were married.
You stand next to Chenle, staring down at the five men around you. “Sit. Standing on my behalf is a waste of time.”
All of them listen to you, Chenle included, leaving you the lone pillar in a room full of money.
“Thank you for waiting for me.”
You don’t ever apologize for being late. Some things are out of your control. Sitting, you move your chair closer to the table. Chenle leans in, close enough for his lips to brush your ear. “I told you to just drive with me.”
You turn to him, unintentionally scanning over his face while he’s so close, and give him a small, fake smile. “And I told you I travel alone.”
It’s the first time you see annoyance pull at his brows. The only thing it does for you is make you give yourself a mental tally mark. Winning is your strong suit.
“Late on the first day isn’t a good look,” the man in the back on the right says. “It’s almost as if it’s not important to you.”
“First day?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Bold of you to assume I haven’t been involved from the moment I signed a wedding certificate.”
“That’s hardly an excuse—”
“Jaemin,” Chenle interrupts him. “It won’t happen again. Leave it alone.”
Anger bubbles in your stomach as you watch the man at the end—Jaemin—immediately back down. Your words weren’t enough, but the second Chenle opens his mouth, the argument’s over? With the group of men, you talk financials from last quarter. You follow along easily thanks to the binder of data Chenle provided you with. Stopping on the fourth page, you frown.
Leaning over to Chenle, you nudge his shoulder. When you point at the page, his eyes follow. You turn your head to whisper in his ear, “This charge isn’t itemized. Little amounts may be fine, but a $143,000 charge with no itemization from one of your departments can’t be normal.”
“You’ve got sharp eyes,” he mutters, almost appreciatively.
“Obligations make you that way,” you return, brushing your hair back as you lean against your chair. Chenle’s button-up sleeves are rolled to his elbows, the tip of his pen tapping on the table as he listens to Jisung talk.
Chenle’s smart not to bring anything up just yet, as he’s likely to do more research before asking his team what is going on with something like that. You cross your legs and listen intently, but most of it is beyond your scope in his company, anyway.
“You’ll also have to decide on new positions as well.” Another man speaks up from beside your cousin.
“And what positions are those, Mark?” Chenle asks.
“COO and CFO nominations for the board to vote.”
“There isn’t any need for nominations for COO.” Chenle frowns.
“Why’s that?” One of the men, Jeno, follows up.
“Isn’t it obvious? The only person qualified for such a role is my wife.” Chenle crosses his arms over his chest, but this time, you can’t stop your outward reaction. Your jaw drops as all eyes fall on you, and you give him an incredulous look.
“Are you serious?”
“Why is this a surprise?” he inquires, gaze meeting yours.
It’s a surprise because nowhere in your signed contract did it say you were entitled to a position of power at his company.
“(Y/N) is an excellent candidate. She’s done great things at my uncle’s company,” Jisung butts in, nodding at you. “If it were up to a vote, she’d have mine.”
“We’ll reconvene for the vote. I have several candidates for CFO listed in the binders you received today, so you may vote on those as well.” Chenle pauses.
You don’t realize your leg bouncing up and down until his palm presses against your knee. The movement is undetectable to everyone else, but it makes every ounce of air dissipate from your lungs. You calm down in an instant, no matter how much you hate to say it, and you clench your fists together in your lap.
“For now, my wife and I are going home,” he continues. “Have a good and productive day today.”
Everyone stands as he does, and you stare at him briefly when he extends his arm out to you. In that split second, you make eye contact with Jisung, who nods in encouragement. You let out a nearly invisible sigh, but you wrap your fingers around the crook of his elbow and allow him to lead you from the room. Once you’re far enough away from everyone, he still doesn’t let you go, a somewhat proud half-smile on his face. “After you pointed out that discrepancy, I almost switched gears and made you CFO instead.”
“You’ll learn quite fast that numbers aren’t really my strong suit.” You don’t even attempt to remove your grip on him. “My attention to detail makes up for the…lack of numerical intelligence.”
“I hope I didn’t take you too off-guard.” He opens the door to the building, disconnecting your arms to place his hand on the small of your back to guide you.
“Please.” You chuckle and shake your head. “You? Take me off-guard?”
“Competitive, too, huh?” He raises an eyebrow at you as he glances around at the different people with cameras surrounding you. Whether to keep you away from them or to keep up appearances, his hand slides from your back to your hip, gently pulling you closer to his side.
“Let’s just say I stopped being invited to family game night,” you admit.
Once the two of you make it to the car, you barely realize you’re disobeying your own rule of traveling alone. He grasps your hand to help you into the backseat, ignoring the flashing lights behind him as he watches you slide over.
He gets in after you, closing the door with a huff. “That’ll be a headline tomorrow.”
“You helping me into the car?”
“You smiled at me.”
“We’re married.”
“Nobody believes it.” He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair.
After a moment of your silence, he reaches over to grab your hand. You surprise even yourself when you allow him.
“I’m sorry. It’s not your problem. And it doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks.”
“Don’t apologize.” You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter, Chenle. We’ll get our…obligations out of the way, and then you can find the love you claim you want.”
His jaw tightens as he looks forward, his grip on you loosening. “Right.”
“Why?” you ask. “Why is that what you want? With me, or with anyone.”
“Love is good for you.” He shrugs. “To have someone who actually cares for you more than themselves just because they want to. Ever since I was young, I wanted to marry for love, but I’d always understood it wasn’t in the cards for me. But I figured I’d at least be able to try. With whoever it was, at least I’d be able to try to be a proper husband.”
There’s much more complexity behind Chenle than what you initially gave him credit for. You figured he’d be the typical CEO, a man high on power who will do everything and anything to not only keep it, but to grow his influence. The version of him you see now doesn’t support that original thought, but you have a hard time believing it.
“Life is already dull and loveless as it is. Rich families don’t exactly enjoy time with their relatives. I figured you, of all people, would understand where I’m coming from in that aspect.” He fidgets with his wedding band. “I don’t want to bring children into a world where they won’t be loved.”
“You think I wouldn’t love my own children?” you ask.
“That’s not what I said.” He glances at you. “Children deserve a complete family. One with parents who not only love them, but each other. I didn’t have that growing up, and I refuse to put anyone else through it.”
“I see.” You understand his point all too well, but you don’t see the big deal. Even if you two were in love and had children, wouldn’t you still have nannies and cooks and all of the things that you had as a child?
“Again, I’m not forcing you into anything. So, you don’t have to try with me if you don’t want to. But I’m not searching for it somewhere else. Since we…are obligated to have children, I wouldn’t put them through a situation where they view their father as a cheater. When I signed that contract and the marriage certificate, I signed my life away to you. Sure, it wasn’t in a traditional way or necessarily…by choice, but we’re here.”
“Wow, you sure know how to woo a woman.”
“You’ve made your stance clear. All I ask is that whoever you…” he trails off and scoffs. “Whoever you decide to be with, you keep them away from any future children. And we’ll never force them into a marriage like this.”
“You want our children to marry for love?”
“Of course, I do.” He nods.
“Chenle, I…”
This time, you reach over to him to stop his excessive movement. The second your fingers wrap around his wrist, he stops.
“I think the same way you do. Hopefully, we respect each other enough not to be caught. Publicly or by children.”
“So, you really…There’s no chance? Of anything real between us?”
Your heart comes to a dead-stop in your chest, and the word ‘no’ hangs on the tip of your tongue, but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to actually say it. It’s one simple syllable, but it’s so heavy in your mouth, you fear opening it will wreak havoc.
“I…I don’t know,” you reply, gulping.
He turns his hand so your palms are touching, and then he squeezes you gently. “All I ask is that you keep an open mind. It’s okay to let yourself have things you want, too. Not everything has to be an obligation.”
Before you can speak, the driver is opening the door for you and Chenle to get out. The two of you make your way into the house, but you’re honestly not sure where to go from here. You head upstairs toward the master bedroom to take off your dress.
“(Y/N),” Chenle calls, stopping you in your tracks. He continues, “I have to get clothes to change into. They’re still all in the master, but I’ll have the staff move them by the end of the week.”
You wet your lips. Standing on the third stair makes you taller than him, and he looks up at you with only kindness behind his brown eyes. You want to hate him. Or to only tolerate him. But through the moments of kindness, you know he’s the type of man you could be friends with. You could—
You stop that thought before it completes. “It’s your house. Do whatever you need to.”
He joins you on the third step and leans closer to you. “Wrong.”
“Wrong?” You tilt your head.
“Remember that everything I have is yours, too. This house belongs to you just as much as it belongs to me. As much as you hate to think so, I know you, (Y/N). The ball is in your court. You make the decisions around here, whether it’s what color the walls are or twenty kids running around the hallways. Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen.”
You gape at him, face red as he leans away from you and continues up the stairs without looking back at you. Once he’s far enough away, you clear your throat and pat your cheeks. Regaining your composure, you follow him up and find him working on the buttons of his shirt, his tie discarded on the bed.
“Does this bother you?” he asks. “I can go.”
“What makes you think it bothers me?”
“You’re staring.”
You head over to the closet instead of responding to him, more than ready to put pants on instead of the dress that’s much too tight for comfort. Once you’ve picked out your new clothes, you stay where you’re at and reach behind you for the zipper. After a few moments of struggling with it, you finally give up and decide to use your resources.
“Chenle?” you call out.
When he appears in the doorway, his shirt is absent, and you were pretty sure he’d been wearing a belt before. His arms are crossed over his chest as he leans against the frame, awaiting you to tell him what you need. You don’t have to actually speak. Instead, you turn your back to him and pull your hair over your shoulder. He hums behind you, keeping a respectable amount of distance before he grips the zipper.
“What did you do before me?” he asks, hesitant to pull it down.
“Staff.” You shrug. “But I mostly wore things I knew I’d be able to—”
The familiar sound and the rush of cool air against your heated skin as he reveals more of you has your breath catching in your throat. You cut yourself off, immediately reaching up to hold the dress to your chest.
“I’m a very accommodating man, (Y/N).” His voice sinks into every inch of you. “If you need something, tell me. I’m your husband. It’s quite literally my job to ensure you’re happy, darling.”
The heat radiating from his bare skin so close to yours has every thought in your brain flying away. Logically, there’d be nothing wrong with giving in to your temptation. It’d been a long time since anyone had touched you, and the man behind you is your husband. Physical attraction had nothing to do with emotions or feelings, so it was okay. One thing you’d never be able to deny is how he’s one of the most beautiful men you’d ever met. Your parents could’ve chosen much, much worse for you.
His voice centimeters from your ear startles you out of your trance. He says, “I wonder what you’re thinking about. You seem a bit distracted.”
“Wouldn’t you love to know.”
“Truly.”
“I need to change.”
“Do you?” He trails a finger up your spine. “You’re so soft. What an odd comparison to that steel wall you’re forcing yourself to keep up.”
“I think you’re forgetting your own boundaries.” You clench your fist into the fabric of your dress. “This wouldn’t be real.”
“What even is this?” His breath fans across your neck, and you’re sure you feel the sublest brush of his lips on your skin. “Tell me where you think this is going. After all, I’m helping you with your dress like a good husband.”
“My dress was dealt with minutes ago.”
“Darling.” He tsks. “If your dress was dealt with already, it would be long, long gone.”
Even like this, you refuse to let him win. If this were to be the extent of your relationship with Chenle, you’d be fine with that. You crave satisfaction, and you also know this is a means to an end. This may be the key to giving your family those fucking heirs they want so badly. In a bold move, you release your grip on the fabric and allow it to crumple at your feet.
“What?” You tilt your head, grinning when his breathing halts. “Are you the only one who can deliver?”
He places his hand on your hip. “Can I touch you here?”
“Mhm,” you inhale sharply when he squeezes, trying your best not to roll back against him.
“Here?” he whispers, splaying his fingers out along your stomach.
“What’s your goal?” you ask, looking back at him over your shoulder. “You seem like you want something from me.”
His face is much too close to yours, but for some reason, it does little to bother you. When his lips part, you don’t mean to squirm in his touch. His eyes sweep over your expression, his touch edging just a little further downward until he can play with the lace hem of your panties.
“I’ve told you what I want already.” His gaze locks on your mouth. “Everything. I want it all.”
You gulp, unable to speak for fear of making a fool of yourself.
“What about me makes this hard for you?” he asks.
Despite the softness of his voice, your proximity to him means you see the hint of hurt swimming around in his dark irises. The heat of his bare skin on yours has everything inside you awakening, but you can’t give him what he wants.
“The choice is yours.” He takes a deep breath. “Going forward, the choice is always yours to make. I’m yours in any way you want me.”
The atmosphere around you is so warm, charged, you can’t help the way you struggle to breathe. You lean closer to him, and when your lips brush his, his grip around you tightens. Before he’s able to initiate a real kiss, a knock sounds on the bedroom door.
“Mr. Zhong, you have a visitor.”
“God damn it,” he curses under his breath, annoyance replacing whatever vulnerability you’d just seen. Stepping away from you, he grabs a shirt for you and hands it to you.
You accept it quickly, embarrassment flooding through your system as reality sets in and you realize what you’d done. He stops in the doorway, stealing one more glance at you before he runs his fingers through his hair and walks out.
“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself, patting your cheeks.
Your skin where he touched you suddenly feels much too cold, and you give yourself a few moments to calm down as you search for a pair of pants to put on. You pick your dress up off the floor and put it with your dirty laundry. You tie your hair up to get yourself to cool down, and then you follow Chenle out to see who saved you from making a decision you wouldn’t be able to come back from.
“You came all the way here to deliver a report?” Chenle’s voice cuts through the air before you’re able to see him, and you hear the agitation flooding through it.
You round the corner and stop at the top of the stairs, finding Chenle in the foyer with one of the men from the meeting earlier standing right inside the doorway with a binder. He’d slipped his shirt back on, retucked it, and even rolled his sleeves up. His hands are deep in his pockets.
“It couldn’t wait,” the man says.
“There are plenty of things that can’t wait in this world, and they wait anyway, Jeno.” Chenle shifts on his feet. “But you’re here, so give it to me.”
Jeno hands Chenle the binder, and he opens it. At the realization of what it is, the latter’s eyes close.
“You’re telling me that this has been going on for years?”
“Before you were even CEO, yes.” Jeno nods.
“My father knows about this?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What is your father supposed to know about?” you ask, finally making your presence known as you make your way down the stairs.
Chenle turns to you, his jaw clenching as his gaze travels on its own accord. “The amount you pointed out earlier. It’s not just one payment. There’s…an entire binder full of payments to someone that aren’t accounted for. That’s $143,000 a quarter, for longer than I’ve even been able to—”
“Should she really be involved in this?” Jeno grabs Chenle’s arm.
“She’s the COO of the company.” Chenle frowns at the other man. “And she’s my wife. If this is going on, it affects her, too.”
The other man releases him, and you join Chenle at his side. At this point, even pressing your arm against his is far too much contact for you, yet you crave it all the same.
“It’s new for them,” you remind your husband. “They’re not used to me yet. They’ll learn in due time.”
“Right.”
You hold your hand out for the reports, and he gives it to you. You flip through, noting the dates corresponding with the payments.
“I wouldn’t bring it up to your father,” you mention.
“What?” Chenle recoils. “Why not?”
“These charges have been happening for years,” you point out. “There’s a chance he might know about them. That he could be the one—”
“That’s impossible,” Chenle interrupts you, his posture immediately straightening out as he stands rigid.
“It’s not.” You keep your voice soft in an attempt to neutralize the situation, and you reach for his wrist. “All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t rule anyone out. We need to keep this within a circle while we do research. No one else can know that this has even been caught.”
As soon as your fingers wrap around him, the tension in his body melts away. He lets out a sigh, wets his lips, and nods. “You’re right. We’ll look into it.” He turns to Jeno. “No one can know about this. This stays between the three of us.”
“Of course,” Jeno confirms. “I’ll leave you with that information now. Have a good night, you two.”
“Thanks,” Chenle says.
Jeno leaves, the echo of the door closing behind him leaving you and Chenle draped in an awkward silence. You place the binder on the table on the glass table, turning to face your husband.
“Are you alright?” Chenle asks.
“Me?” You raise your eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He gives you a pointed look, one that tells you he’s in no way wanting to beat around the bush. “Don’t do that.”
“I’m…okay, yes. Maybe a little flustered, but I didn’t…hate what happened, if that’s what you’re asking.” You avoid his gaze, rolling your eyes as you stare off past him to the ornate details of the front door.
“We’re married,” he points out.
“Yes, I’m acutely aware of that fact, thank you.” Your fingers find the band of your wedding ring.
He pauses, but his gaze leaves goosebumps all over your body as he trails over you. “It’s clear we’re…attracted to each other. And you’re still sure you’d rather not attempt a real relationship.”
“We’ve talked about this.” You glance around, like the staff overhearing is the most embarrassing thing you’ll deal with.
“Not enough.”
“What else could we possibly add to that?”
“I don’t want us to tolerate each other, (Y/N). At the very least, we should try to be friends.” He takes a step closer to you.
You’ve been confronted by a lot of men in your life. There have been even more men who doubted your abilities, but none of them had ever intimidated you. Chenle, standing in front of you with a determined look on his face, intimidates you. A part of you—no matter how small it may be—knows he’s everything he says he is and more. He could give you the life you’ve always wanted, but you’re sure you don’t deserve it. Not until you’ve fulfilled your portion of the contract and take your place as CEO. Only then can you allow yourself to let go.
“Do you want me?” he asks. “In any way?”
“I don’t want to,” you tell him honestly. “But I do.”
“When we were on our honeymoon, or the semblance of whatever that was, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how we were forced into this arrangement, yet none of it…None of it feels wrong. You may not have paid me much attention beforehand, but for years before we were ever to be married, I’ve admired you. Your willpower and the way you hold your own. The independence you have. Your autonomy. I envy you.”
“Why? Why envy me?”
“Look at yourself.” Chenle puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you to look into the floor-length mirrors against the wall. “I’m not talking about how beautiful you are, even though that’s definitely an added bonus. I mean the utter tenacity you have flowing through your veins. The way you can command attention the second you walk into a room. How you’re unafraid to put men with decades of more experience in their places. You are…unapologetically yourself. This life, one of business, is significantly easier for me as a man, yet you’ve absolutely bulldozed everyone in your way.”
“Chenle—”
“I’m not done.” He taps his fingers against you.
Seeing him standing behind you in these mirrors is making your heart race, your brain jolting with electricity, and inexplicable thoughts running around your mind. He looks good like this. He watches you fondly, the admiration in his gaze evident.
“But you’re honest, too. With your intentions and with the way you want to live your life. I wish you’d give me the chance to prove how things could be, but like I said before, these choices are yours alone. Don’t get that confused with me not wanting to try. Because I’ll keep trying as long as you want me in…whatever way.”
You turn to him, craning your neck to look at him with your hands flat on his chest. “I’m beginning to think you’re crazy.”
“If trying to give my wife the life she deserves is crazy, then I’ll gladly claim that title.” A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Something tells me you might come around someday.”
“I wish you saw things the way I do,” you mutter.
“I think the same way. But as much as I understand your fears, they shouldn’t hinder you in your life. You’re allowed to explore all aspects. Business. Joy. Intimacy. Love.”
“And you’re an expert on intimacy?” You raise your eyebrows.
“Expert might be a strong word, but I won’t ever lie to you. I’ve been in love in the past and gotten hurt because of it. But every heartbreak is worth it if it leads you to the person you were made for.” His hands slide to your hips, fingertips barely applying any pressure. “If we find we’re not good for each other, I’d let you go. You’re bound to me in a legal sense only. Paper. It means nothing unless we make it mean something.”
“You…scare me,” you breathe out. “This scares me.”
“We’re doing something right, then.” He lets out a short chuckle. “But I like this. Being close to you. Knowing that we’d be so much better as a team than as roommates.”
“I’ve always worked alone.”
“Does that mean you’ve never been in love?”
You shake your head. “Never. I don’t give myself the time to feel things like that.”
“So, feel.” His finger brushes below your chin, angling you so your eyes meet his. “Tell me what you’re feeling right now.”
“I—”
“Don’t think. Feel.”
“I…I’m nervous. You can’t be real. I’ve only been burned in the past, but it feels like you’d…just keep me warm. I don’t know if I want that.” You gulp past the unexplainable lump in your throat. “It’s…overwhelming.”
“What can I do to help you?” Chenle asks. “Whatever you need. Tell me, and I’ll make it happen.”
“You.” Your voice almost refuses to work. “I want you, but I…I need time to see if that’s really it or if I’m tricking myself in order to fulfill these stupid obligations set for me.”
“Which obligations?”
“Heirs.” You avert your gaze, but he gently pulls you right back.
“Take whatever time you need. I mean it. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not going to push you into any situations like that.” He reaches up and plays with a strand of your hair. “But there are…plenty of ways to explore that side of our relationship without pregnancy being a risk. Or a reward, if that’s what you view it as.”
Your face burns. Never before has a man made you blush.
“With that in the open, does removing the pregnancy factor make you want me any less?”
You contemplate. While you’d love to say that portion of your contract was the last thing on your mind, you thought of it frequently. But thoughts of what he’s mentioning has your insides twisting and turning in every way, with or without heirs being involved. When he touched you earlier, his hands on your bare skin, that genuinely wasn’t a thought. You want him for personal gain, but not in the way you originally assumed.
“Never less,” you murmur. The warmth around you becomes unbearable, yet you still find yourself shivering. “I think we need to come back to this at a different time.”
“Of course.” He takes a step back, allowing cool air to rush over you. Grabbing the binder from the table, he gestures for you to follow him into his office. “Shall we move on to some numbers, then?”
Finally, you laugh shortly. “Yeah. Yes, that sounds good.”
After two hours of studying the documents, spreadsheets, and all the other information Jeno brought for Chenle, the two of you have gotten as far as discovering the payments were sent to the same bank account. Stress is written across his face, and eventually, you slide the binder away from him.
“You’re going to run yourself into the ground,” you scold him. “It’s time for a break.”
“What time is it?” he asks, massaging his forehead.
“Almost 8pm.” You lean back in your chair and cross your legs.
His lips part in shock, and he checks his watch. “Fuck. I’m sorry, I didn’t even…you haven’t eaten yet.”
“Neither have you,” you point out.
“We’ve already established that you’re more important.” He lets out a sigh, partially filled with frustration. “You know what? Why don’t you get changed and we’ll go out?”
“Together?” Your eyes widen.
“We’re married. It’d be weird if we went by ourselves.”
“Right, of course. Um, anything in particular I should wear?”
“The choice is yours.” He grins, and like it’s the easiest thing in the world, robs all of the oxygen from your lungs. You realize then that you don’t see him smile much, but the pang in your heart can only mean you want to see it over and over again.
“Okay.” You nod and stand. “Give me ten minutes.”
“Take your time. I’ll be waiting for you.”
“You sure you don’t want to pick?” you offer one last time.
“While that would honestly be an honor, darling, I’m trying to prove a point here.” He lifts himself to his feet and reaches across the desk to close the binder. “I could use a drink.”
You give him a small smile before you exit his office. Once he’s out of sight, you practically bound up the stairs. You’d been on dates before, sure, but this feels different. You know better than to let yourself look too far ahead, so once you’re in your closet, you want to make sure you wear something nice. You pick a dress you’re sure you can get yourself out of. Unlike your outfit from earlier, this one isn’t as tight to your figure, and the soft color matches you well. For business meetings, you only wear black. Wearing bright colors hasn’t ever brought you success, but you figure you can wear the purple for a date with your husband.
A date. Is it a date?
That part of it doesn’t matter. This dress makes you feel good about yourself, truly. Disgust immediately sends a shiver down your spine when you realize you’re beginning to ponder how Chenle will perceive you. He’s a man. You could wear a trash bag and he’d think you did something revolutionary. Brushing the skirt of your dress off, you grab a pair of heels, slide them on, and head back down the stairs. He waits by the door, his suit jacket back on and buttoned in the middle. He turns at the sound of your shoes on the floor, and he freezes in his spot.
“What?” you inquire.
“I just…I’ve never seen you in that color before.” He clears his throat, but his cheeks tinge with a light, barely noticeable pink. “You…it suits you well.”
“Thank you.” Before you attempt to leave the door, he grabs your jacket from the rack and drapes it over your shoulders.
“It’s cold, darling,” he mutters, making sure the fabric is secure on your shoulders.
“You don’t think it ruins the outfit?”
“Not a chance. Jacket or not, it’s my favorite of yours.”
“Relax with the compliments. You’re making me blush.” You brush your fingertips against his shoulder and exit the house.
“My hard work is paying off. Good to know.” He closes the door behind him and guides you to the car with his hand on the small of your back. “I’ll stop with the compliments if you ever stop deserving them. Which I doubt will happen, by the way.”
The drive is thirty minutes, and the city is still bustling by the time Chenle is helping you out of the car. His palm against yours makes your stomach flip, and you’re beginning to hate this effect he has on you. It seems like it hit you out of nowhere, and you’d prefer if it were to sink back into the depths of hell where it came from in the first place. But before you know it, you’re a glass and a half deep of wine, you’ve eaten enough pasta to get you through the night, and Chenle’s in the exact same boat you’re in. Between the two of you, you’ve finished a bottle, and it seems as if your husband is debating ordering another one.
You hide a laugh with another sip from your glass and shake your head. “I cannot believe we’re this out of order.”
“The order doesn’t matter as long as the end result is desirable. Isn’t that true?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.
“Mm, I’ve always been an order of operations girl. Everything has to happen in the exact right way.” You set your drink down and rest your head on your palm.
“I just realized I know…nothing about your past. Please, tell me what the younger version of you was like. What kind of trouble did you get into?”
“Wow, what makes you assume I got into trouble?” you tease him, unable to fight your smile.
He sucks in a deep breath and pats his legs. “God, I’m not sure. It couldn’t be the way you never take no for an answer or how you absolutely run over everyone in your way.”
“I’ll have you know that I am a very composed human.” You run your tongue over your teeth.
“I’d expect nothing less, to be honest.” He gives you a soft smile. “And for the record, I enjoy those qualities. There aren’t many people in this world that would be unafraid of calling me out if I’m doing something wrong.”
“You mean earlier.”
“I mean in general, but that does apply, yes.”
“I only want to be a balance for you.” You look down at the red liquid in your cup. “We’re meant to complement each other now, yeah?”
“I think we were the most strategic pair…ever.” Chenle nods.
“Can I be honest with you?” You take another sip.
“Absolutely.”
“You asked me earlier what about you makes this situation hard. Or what about you makes it hard for me to…let go of certain views.” You clear your throat, dreading the conversation more than you’d care to admit. “I feel like it’s…because a part of me knows the greatness we’d be capable of together. But I’ve worked hard to build my own greatness, and I can almost guarantee the second this becomes real, my greatness becomes ours.”
“Ah.” He purses his lips. “I won’t lie to you. There will be people that see it that way. But by being married to me, those people already exist.”
“I’m not talking about other people. I don’t care about them or their opinions.” You finish off your glass.
“You…you mean me?” His eyes widen in shock.
“That is a fear I have.”
He flounders for a second, and he scrambles for words for the first time all day. “I’m sorry, I just…I’m not sure if there’s anything I can say to make this better. I…(Y/N), I know my promises probably don’t mean much to you at this point, but I’d never discount you like that. Or take credit for anything you’ve done. How can I make that clearer?”
“It’s not your issue to correct.” You chew the inside of your cheek. “It’s mine. And I don’t say it to make you feel responsible, but as a forewarning, I guess. Being a woman and working my way to the top just to have…this thrust upon me is a little redundant.”
“You never wanted to marry in the first place.” It’s not a question.
“That’s correct.”
He blows out a long breath and looks down at his hands, twisting the wedding band on his finger. “You never saw this in the cards for you.”
“I knew I’d eventually have to marry for company purposes. My father would never let himself die before he knows I’ve carried on his line.” You snort and shake your head. “But I figured all of these types of marriages were the same. People signed their paperwork and barely acknowledged each other unless it was to reproduce.”
Chenle lets out a laugh. “Your word choice is interesting.”
“Shut up, you know what I mean.” You cover your mouth as you join him in laughter. “I just never thought you’d be…you.”
“I live to prove to you that you can have everything. We can be happy, have a real family, and still be at the top of our field. Both independently and together.”
Fortunately for the both of you, Chenle doesn’t order the second bottle of wine. Instead, he pays the bill and leads you from the restaurant with his arm wrapped around your waist. He opens the car door for you, and as you place your hand in his to enter, he squeezes your hand gently. Once you get home, the two of you separate at the top of the stairs, him heading off to a spare room down the hall while you step into the room that technically belongs to him. You change without interrupt, your silk nightgown soft on your skin as you climb into bed.
You stare up at the ceiling, tracing along it with your eyes as if you were drawing a map. Where the destinations were you had yet to figure out, but you imagined a whole new world up there, one where you didn’t have to have this wall up. One where you didn’t have to fight tooth and nail for a shred of respect you more than deserve. One where you didn’t have to be scared of what Chenle was trying to offer you.
You sigh, clutching the blanket to your chest. The wine has since settled in your system, yet your blood still runs warm. The map on the ceiling becomes mountains, oceans, continents. It forms real shapes, real geography in your mind, but you find the destination right in the middle is where you truly want to be. When you look at your phone, the time is already past 2 a.m., and you’re not anywhere near tired. You’re startled by the knock. You shuffle out of bed, crossing your arms over your chest as you crack the door open slightly.
Chenle stands there, hands buried deep in his sweatpants. His eyes sweep over you as you open the door wider.
“You’re up,” he comments.
“I couldn’t sleep.” You shrug. “You’re up. And here.”
“I was hoping I could talk to you.” He pauses. “I can’t stop thinking, and I just really don’t want to be alone right now.”
Your heart skips a beat. As much as you hate it, warmth spreads through your entire being at the thought of his first idea being you.
“This is your room, Chenle. I’m not going to tell you you can’t come in your own bedroom.” You step back to give him space to walk in, but he stays put outside, staring at you as if he’s seeing straight into your soul. You give him a pointed look, but give in. “Yes, it’s okay for you to come in here. I’d prefer company as well.”
He shuffles past you, tiredness clearly weighing down as the bottoms of his feet slide across the hardwood floor. You watch him closely, admiring him. Quickly, you realize that he fits into any room he walks in. He belongs anywhere and everywhere, and within moments, he makes you feel something you’ve only ever been able to provide for yourself until this moment—safe.
“Sorry,” he whispers with a sigh. “I need to stop thinking.”
“Trust me, I get it. Me too.” You stand with your arms still crossed over your chest and you rock back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?”
“I shouldn’t bore you.” He waves you off and sits on the edge of his bed. “How are you adjusting?”
“I’m okay. I’m not complaining about my accommodations.” You move and sit next to him, putting your hand on his knee. “You won’t bore me. If something’s bothering you, I want to try and help.”
His eyes sparkle even in the dark. The landscapes of the map you drew reflect in his gaze, and you swear you see every mountain, every body of water, entire worlds forming in his irises. How have you never seen this before? Why are you seeing it now?
“The payments,” he murmurs. “The idea that my father might know about them. Might be facilitating them. It’s driving me up a fucking wall.”
“When I said that, I didn’t mean to upset you.” You reach over and grab his hand. “We just need to take precaution when it comes to situations like this. If it is him and he knows we’re onto him, it might be…a bigger issue than it needs to be.”
“I know that. I guess it’s the idea that he’d be capable of something like that.” Chenle stares down at the way your thumb traces against his skin.
“You look up to him.”
“I did. I do. A lot, actually, so this seems so…backwards. That’s a lot of money per quarter, you know? I could only imagine what it’s going towards.” He turns his hand around so your palms are touching, and he gently intertwines your fingers. “Sorry, I should’ve asked if this was okay.”
“It’s more than okay. Don’t worry about me. Keep talking.”
“My parents never really loved each other. They grew to love their life together, but not each other. And despite that, I had a decent time growing up. They were good parents to me, and that’s what truly matters at the end of the day, but it makes me wonder if they’re…not these great people I’ve made them out to be in my head.” He lets out a short chuckle. “This sounds pathetic.”
“Hey.” Before you realize what you’re doing, you reach up to cup his cheek and bring his gaze back to yours. “Don’t talk like that. You’re not pathetic. These are valid concerns, and if you’ve been lied to for this long, you have every right to be upset.”
You’re so distracted by him, you barely even recognize the softness of his face. Your thumb runs gently along his cheekbone, and you watch as the frown fades from his features. Something you can’t recognize forms behind his irises, yet it still feels familiar. How do you explain how the normal beat of your heart hurts? How do you tell him that seeing him upset like this feels like needles running along your skin?
“My father would tell me I was foolish for hoping for love,” Chenle whispers. “He said it was a waste of time, since any man as busy as we are just isn't suited for it. For families.”
“If you’d asked me a few weeks ago, I would’ve agreed with him.” You squeeze his hand and give him a small smile.
“Something changed?” he asked.
“I don’t think that way anymore,” you admit. “Now, I’ve realized it’s about the amount of effort someone is willing to put in. It has nothing to do with time. We make time for those we care about.”
He leans into your touch as his eyes flutter shut. You admire the angelic glow the stars leave on his skin, and despite how tired he is, he’s still so fucking beautiful. Your throat dries at the sight, and you hate how it feels like your insides are at war.
“I like this,” he tells you. “Being with you like this.”
“Me, too.” You smile, even though he can’t see you. “You should try and sleep though. You’ll be exhausted tomorrow.”
His chest visibly deflates, and he places his hand on top of yours to pull it away from his face. “Of course. I…I’ll get going.”
You recoil, but you don’t let go of his other hand. “Oh. Is that what you want?” Nerves crawl around in your stomach. You figured he’d stay with you tonight, in his own bed. That maybe the two of you would learn to be better comforted by each other’s presence.
“You’re tired, and I’m keeping you up. I was inconsiderate.” He clears his throat.
“No, no,” you quickly interject. “That’s not what I meant at all. I’m only worried about you, so I was hoping you’d stay with me.”
“In here?” he asks.
You nod. “Yes. If it were my choice, you’d stay.”
“Damn, you got me there.” He delivers a tired grin and ultimately agrees. “I’d love that, (Y/N). Truly.”
You let him settle in beneath the comforter first, and he lifts it to allow you room to slide in next to him. Neither of you say anything else, but things seem to fall together naturally. He opens his arms, you push yourself against his chest, and then he wraps you up tightly in his warm embrace. He smells faintly of cologne, a soft, woody scent that engulfs you pleasantly. Despite the way you failed to fall asleep earlier, you struggle to remember a time you’d ever fallen into your dream world faster.
When you wake without Chenle in the morning, you’re sure you dreamed the last portion of the night. That is, until you see that it’s almost 10 am. You gasp and launch yourself out of bed. You never sleep in this late, so you quickly dress yourself and get ready for the day. Chenle’s side of the bed is mussed, so you determine it was, indeed, not a dream, and you make sure you look as presentable as your normal standard before you go downstairs to find where your husband disappeared to. The smell of breakfast emanates from the kitchen, so you naturally gravitate that way. When you step into the room, you’re taken aback by the company present. Not just your own parents, but Chenle’s as well. Your husband stands at the end of the table, clearly stressed with all of the people in your kitchen. He notices you first and breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of you.
“Wow,” you say as you approach Chenle and stand next to him. “Were we expecting everyone today?”
“Nope.” He chuckles and, much to apparently both of your surprises, he leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Everyone showed up an hour or so ago.”
Through the burning of your cheeks, your gaze shoots up to his and you lower your voice. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“You looked really comfortable.” He shrugs.
“(Y/N), Chenle was just telling us that you’re accepting the COO position at his company,” your mother butts in. Of course, business talk immediately.
“Yes, we—”
“Isn’t that a little early? And don’t you have enough responsibilities as COO of my company?” your father grumbles, and you already start to shrink into yourself in his presence.
“She’s more than capable,” Chenle defends you. “If I didn’t think she could handle it, I wouldn’t have done it.”
“Don’t interrupt their family discussions, Chenle, that’s rude,” his mother scolds him.
“This marriage was a merger, was it not?” Chenle raises an eyebrow. “Doesn’t that technically make our families interconnected now?”
“We’ll consider them officially connected when she’s had her first child.” Your father points his finger at you. “Speaking of which, what’s taking so long?”
Your jaw drops, and you shift uncomfortably. It’s one thing to talk about your husband getting you pregnant with your own father, but him being so comfortable spitting things out like that in front of Chenle’s parents as well has you feeling queasy.
“We’ve been married for two months.”
“Your mother was pregnant after three weeks.”
“I don’t really want to hear about you impregnating my mother—”
“You’re making excuses, (Y/N), you know what’s on the line here.” Your father tsks at you, sipping from his water glass.
“Sir, all due respect, but it’s not like we knew each other very well. We’re both still getting comfortable with each other. And we’re young. We have plenty of time to have children.” As soon as the words leave Chenle’s mouth, you reach over and grasp his hand. It’s not visible below the table, but he squeezes you in reassurance.
“And what happens if she were to die tomorrow? My bloodline dies with her?” Your father narrows his eyes at Chenle. Your heart sinks in your chest, and you scratch your forehead.
“Even if she were to be pregnant, if she died tomorrow there wouldn’t be an heir either way,” your husband replies.
“Is there a reason we’re having such a lovely family reunion?” you butt in, hoping to curve their conversation.
“Do we need a reason to visit our daughter?” your mother asks.
“Typically, yes.” You shrug. “You never show up unannounced.”
“Oh, I take it they haven’t seen the tabloids,” Chenle’s father mentions.
You stand from your spot and pull your phone out of your pocket to check. You hear Chenle whisper something to the group before he pushes his chair back to join you. Despite the anxiety crawling up your spine, the warmth of him right behind you calms you.
“They came here because there’s a couple articles of people being shocked that we like each other?” you hiss, tossing your phone on the counter.
“Breathe,” Chenle tells you, putting his hands on your shoulders. “They’ll eventually leave us alone, but we’ve got to placate them for now.”
“Placate them?” You turn to him and raise your eyebrow. “You exchanged words with my father.”
“He said stupid things.” Chenle shrugs.
You chuckle. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ah, but you said the people are surprised we like each other, so I’m assuming you enjoy how ridiculous I am.” He bites back a grin when he sees you blush.
“God, you’ve got to stop doing that.” You push gently at his chest and walk back to your parents and your in-laws.
“I’m not sure this is really something that should have blame assigned,” Chenle’s mother says. “I’ve seen married couples go years without children.”
You curse under your breath. Of course, this is still the topic of conversation.
“That’s not how it works in this family. Heirs come first immediately after marriage.” Your mother sips from a champagne flute.
“Well, that’s hardly Chenle’s fault—”
“He’s a man. How hard is it to impregnate a woman?” Your mother scoffs. “Please, she’s not ugly by any means.”
“Mother, dear God,” you snap. “Why in the world are we still talking about this?”
“I’m sorry, are you questioning my son’s…viability?” Chenle’s father narrows his eyes.
You want to combust into flames right then and there. The immediate assumption that the reason behind you not being with child yet is that Chenle simply can’t get it up. How fucking great.
“I’m just saying, there were other men contending for a contract that were more than willing—”
“That’s enough,” you shout.
You have four shocked faces staring at you, and you feel Chenle go rigid behind you.
“I am beyond tired of this conversation already. We’ve only been married for two months, and that’s just not enough time. I barely even knew him when I married him, and we’re trying to do this the normal way. As normally as we can.” You pause. “I’m the one that wants to wait. And it is a want, not a necessity, so neither of us are…sexually dysfunctional.”
Chenle holds back a laugh behind you, but four sets of eyes are still on you. And while it’s technically not the truth—as you’ve stated multiple times you’d be okay with having an heir quickly—you’d rather this portion of it fall on you than on him. Your parents would lose their minds.
“And let’s not forget that (Y/N) is a human with a career that’s just as important as mine,” your husband adds. “Having a child at this time could put her back immensely after all the hard work she’s put in. If she wants to wait, nobody should have a say in that other than her.”
With every word coming out of Chenle’s mouth, he gets more and more attractive to you. You wish today had been a simple morning, truly. One where you’d wake up with him next to you and he’d hold you for however long the two of you could stand to stay still for.
“You should be happy we’re trying to do this properly.” You cross your arms over your chest.
“Love is a waste of time in a business arrangement.” Your father sets his empty water glass on the table.
“I agree. It’s better to get the obligations out of the way first, and then worry about trying to create something real,” Chenle’s father agrees.
“Right, because that worked out so well for you,” Chenle says.
Today was going to be a long, long day.
Your parents and in-laws stayed for another hour, and then they (thankfully) willingly left on their own accord. As soon as Chenle closes the door behind his parents, you sigh in relief and slump your back against the counter. He approaches you without a word, and almost like it’s instinct, you wrap your arms around him. Running his fingers through your hair, he holds you as close as he can.
“I’m sorry my parents implied you’re impotent,” you mutter, and you and Chenle burst into laughter at the same time.
“Wow. Clearly the only two options for an explanation as to why you’re not pregnant within two months are impotency or your husband not finding you attractive. Which, for the record, neither of those are an issue.”
“Gross. But thanks, I think?” You lean back slightly to look at him and find him smiling at you.
“Just being honest. If I was impotent, I would’ve told you before we married for business purposes. And if you don’t know how attractive you are at this point, that would be one of the world’s biggest mysteries.” He pulls you to him until your chest presses against his. “But, since I was so rudely torn away from my beautiful wife this morning by our nosy, no fucking good parents dropping in like we’re fifteen years old, I wanted to thank you for last night. Since I couldn’t earlier.”
“Thank me?” You frown and tilt your head.
“I needed that. I didn’t even know it, but I needed it,” Chenle tells you.
“Of course,” you murmur. “You never have to be alone for those moments.”
“Just for those moments?” He fakes a pout. “Does that mean I have to go back to my own room?”
You give him a pointed look, and then pretend to be lost in thought momentarily. “Pretty sure that’s only when you make me mad. I guess married couples argue and then the wives send the husbands to the couch. But in this case, there’s an extra bedroom. Or twenty.”
“Can I…can I try something?” he asks, the tips of his ears turning red.
“Yeah.” You nod.
“Close your eyes,” he mutters.
If he was anyone else, you’d be asking a million questions. But this is Chenle, and you’ve grown to realize he’s exactly who he said he is. You trust him inexplicably.
“Wow,” he says. “Not even a sarcastic comment. I think I’m winning you over.”
You open one eye, push at his shoulder, and then close it again. You’re more than tempted to open them again when his hands cup your cheeks. His thumbs caress your skin, and your breath gets caught in your throat. Your heart races in anticipation as you await his next move, craving whatever it is he wants to give you. You gasp quietly when you feel his lips brush yours, and your body tenses.
“Relax,” he whispers. “It’s me.”
You don’t give him the opportunity to finish closing the distance between you two. You do it for him. Pushing yourself forward, you seal the kiss with him quickly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close to you. He curses against you, and you follow suit when he wraps his arm around your waist and lifts you onto the counter. For a brief moment, he pulls away from you, chest heaving as he pants.
“Chenle.” You hate that it comes out as a whimper, but you love the way he reacts to it.
He kisses you again, harder this time while one of his hands tangles in your hair and the other sits on your thigh where the hem of your dress is. Instinctively, to make your dress ride up your legs more, you lift one and hike it up around his waist. The fabric slips past his fingertips, now resting much higher than it was before. You pull him closer until he’s right up against the lace of your panties.
“Fuck,” he curses lowly, digging his nails into your skin. “You’d better think this through, darling.”
A shiver runs down your spine, but heat floods your core. You need him.
“Please,” you whisper to him, watching as his eyes darken right in front of you. When you let your hand travel down his body, you smirk at how his length hardens further beneath your touch.
“Shit.” His hips unintentionally thrust into your hand. “Fuck, we should stop.”
You drop your head against his shoulder, retracting your hand away from him. “Well, impotency definitely won’t be a problem.”
He kisses up your neck. “Sorry. I don’t want to get carried away. Or even more carried away, I guess.”
“Look at me.” You wait for him to listen to you. “You don’t have to hold back if you don’t want to. Your desires are just as important as mine.”
“Before we…do anything, I need to make sure I have condoms.” He clears his throat and removes your leg from around his waist.
“Wait, what?” You frown and lean away from him. “What do we need those for?”
“Are you serious?” He takes a step back.
“Well, yeah. We’re married. We need to have children, why would we use condoms?” You run your fingers through your hair.
He sighs and runs his hands down his face. “We talked about this. I was under the impression that we were figuring this out first and then worrying about how and when we’d have children.”
“We can’t do both at the same time?”
“Did you ever think that maybe I don’t want kids yet?” He tilts his head at you and narrows his eyes. “Yes, I understand that’s part of the deal and why we’re even married in the first place, but I don’t want to even risk having kids if I don’t know it’s really me you want.”
Embarrassment floods through you, and you slide off the counter and send him back a few more paces. You pull your dress down and grimace at the thought of being in a position like that.
“After everything we’ve talked about and the time we’ve spent together, you really think that’s not true? You think I don’t want you?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. All of this is confusing. And then our parents are here pressuring you into having a kid, and you’re—”
“Oh, my God.” Your jaw drops, and you brush off your skirt. “You’re literally the one who kissed me. And then you put me on—God forbid I ask a simple question, right? That must mean I’m trying to jump your bones to get my way.”
“(Y/N), that’s not what I said—”
“Maybe not, but that’s sure as hell what you meant. And here I am, like a fucking idiot, letting you touch me when you think that fucking low of me.” You clench your fists at your side, and you’re unaccustomed to the way your heart twists so hard in your chest. “God, fuck you.”
You turn away from him and stomp off, painfully aware of your over-exaggeration. The logical side of you begs you to calm down, since both of your concerns are valid, but the side of you you’re experiencing for the first time is stronger than what you’re accustomed to. When you make it upstairs and to your room, you sit on the edge of the bed and force yourself to breathe. Chenle’s assumption hurt you. It’s as simple as that. You’ve let yourself like him, and now he has this power over you. With a simple miscommunication, it feels like everything is falling apart before it even begins.
You blink rapidly to stop the tears from welling in your eyes, and eventually, you’re more annoyed by your reaction than by the actual situation. The door creaks open, and Chenle walking in makes relief flood through your veins. He moves over to you and sits down next to you, reaching over to grab your hand.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
You nod and lean into his chest, craving his comfort. He sighs, wraps his arms around you tightly, and strokes your hair. With your ear pressed against him, you hear how his heart beats just as hard as yours.
“I think we both got a little carried away there,” he murmurs.
“Yeah,” you agree. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I got so upset.”
“I’m sorry, too.” He kisses the top of your head. “It’s never my intention to hurt you. Or to make you regret anything we do.”
You sit there in silence, appreciating the comfort he gives you simply by being next to you.
“I was…I don’t know. Embarrassed, I think.” You chuckle at yourself, but you don’t find it funny at all. “That you would think I’d just…do that without being truthful to you. I’ve had a lot of men assume things about me throughout my entire life. Because of my success, it’s either from my father handing it to me or because I slept my way to the top. So, I’m sure you can see why I had trouble comprehending that as anything else.”
“And I hope you know that’s not what I was thinking at all. I know how much of an influence your parents have had on you. All I ever want to do is make sure you’re making your choices for you. I never communicated that I would want to use condoms if we started sleeping together because I didn’t really assume we’d get there.” He squeezes you closer to him and takes a deep breath.
“I’m also sorry for yelling at you.” You scrunch your nose up and look at him. “That was…really weird.”
“Weird?” A small smile pulls at his lips.
“I’ve never felt anything like that before. And it’s scary that you have that kind of power over me, even if I know you wouldn’t use it against me intentionally.”
“Learning how to manage those feelings will come with the territory. Have some faith in me, alright? I’m not saying things just to bring you down.” He tilts your head up, his gaze scanning over your face. “I want you to be happy. Obviously, bonus points if I’m a part of that happiness.”
“You are.”
“Good. You deserve only good things in life, and I need to make sure you get them.”
He leans down and presses his lips to yours, gently working your mouths together. You sigh into him and tangle your fingers in his hair. Everything about this feels good. It has warmth spreading in your chest from knowing someone in this world cares for you beyond what you can give them. You know he wants you, but you also know he’s going to have your best interest in mind.
He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours. “We’ll learn each other, darling. Everything will work out the way it’s meant to.”
Whether intentionally or not, you and Chenle keep your distance from each other for a couple days. Today, however, you’ve no choice but to be around each other later for the board meeting, where they’ll vote on the CFO position. And your COO position, but Chenle made it very clear that the vote was simply a formality. You choose a black dress, zip it up, put your earrings in, and head downstairs, where your husband waits for you by the door. He looks at you as you stop on the bottom step, a loud clack coming from your heel.
“Yes?” You tilt your head at him.
“Are those earrings new?” He buttons his suit jacket.
“Not new.” You shake your head. “I just haven’t worn them since we married.”
“Right.” He walks over to you and offers you his arm. “Do you like receiving new things?”
You loop yours through his and allow him to guide you toward the door. “I guess that would depend on the context of receiving.”
“If I buy things for you, will they be well received?” he asks.
“You think you know me well enough to buy me things I’d enjoy?” You bite back a smile as he leads you outside and to the car.
With his hand on the small of your back, he helps you into the backseat before following. “I think I’d figure it out fairly quickly. I’m a smart man.”
“They…would be received. Maybe not well, but received nonetheless.”
He chuckles and shakes his head, relaxing against the seat. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“I can’t make it too easy for you.” You purse your lips, and without much thought, you scoot closer to him and place your hand on his.
“I don’t think easy is the right word for most things when it comes to you.” He laughs, turning his smile toward you.
“Most things?”
“Being with you is easy. Or around you, I should say. You’re pleasant company. Easy to have an intellectual conversation with, easy to relax around. Those are the easy things.”
“Wow.” You bite back your grin. “You sure know how to woo a woman.”
“Not just any woman,” he interjects. “My wife.”
“Your wife.” It’s the first time you’ve called yourself that out loud, and it has a weird, unrecognizable feeling sprouting in your stomach.
“I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but it seems like you’re coming around a little bit.” He nudges you gently. “I’m not sure how it’s possible, but I’ve missed you the past few days. After the other day, I wanted to give you space in case you didn’t want to see me, but I should’ve thought to ask you.”
He stares down at where your hands are connected, his thumb rubbing against your skin.
You fight the urge to touch his face again. “I…I’ve missed you, too, I think.”
“You think?” Humor laces in his tone.
“I don’t know. I’ve never wanted to be around someone like this before.” You shrug, heat gathering in your cheeks. “Forgive me while I navigate whatever’s going on inside my brain.”
“I want to know everything you’re thinking,” he murmurs, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Every joke, unimportant sentence, emotion, process. I want to know you.”
You lean forward and press your lips to his without a single thought in your head, but he reciprocates with ease. Almost as if he’s not taken off-guard in the slightest.
“I could get used to that,” he says against your lips. “No more silence, okay? I don’t want to be away from you.”
“No more silence,” you agree.
When the two of you pull away from each other, your eyes widen at the sight of your lipstick on his lips. You grab his arm to stop him from getting out of the car and use your thumb to wipe the excess away.
“Made a mess, did you?” He grabs your wrist to stop you. “You don’t want anyone to see that you like me that much?”
A grin follows his words, and he grabs his handkerchief out of his pocket.
“No one can know I actually have a heart,” you interject, watching as he wipes his mouth.
“Alright.” He puts his hand on your knee and squeezes. “Are you ready?”
If there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s the overwhelming attraction you have for Chenle. You take him in for a moment, the dark sweep of his hair parted to reveal his forehead, the way he grips you, the way he watches you as if you’re the only person in the world to exist.
“Before we go,” you start, chuckling quietly at yourself for the question you’re about to ask him. “Did…did you ever get condoms?”
His lips part in shock, and he blinks and flounders for words for a solid few seconds before he clears his throat. “I…I mean, I did, but not because I thought we would—it was just a precaution, you know?”
“Do I make you, Zhong Chenle, so nervous that you’re stuttering right now?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” He pats your thigh. “Absolutely, you do.”
You silently thank whoever made this car for the partition between the driver and you and Chenle. “I could do so many other things to you that are so much better.” You gently touch his tie, wrapping your fingers around the fabric and pulling on it to bring him closer to you.
“I truly have no doubt that’s true.” He wets his lips. “If we don’t get out of this car in the next ten seconds, I’m having the driver fucking turn us around. We can’t miss the vote.”
“I guess receiving the title of COO is a little more important than banging my husband.”
“Fuck, I need to get out right now.” He glances up at the ceiling and throws the door open without any more hesitation. Like usual, he turns and offers you his hand.
You take it gratefully, and you loop your arm through his once your feet are safely on the ground. While you follow his lead, you realize something that has the gears in your brain turning. Chenle is the only man you’ve ever accepted guidance from. As miniscule as it seems to allow him to walk you inside, you can’t deny how you’d willingly follow him wherever he may go.
The vote does go off without a hitch, and not even half an hour after you receive your title, you’re in an office plugging away at whatever work needs to be done. Unfortunately, you’re awfully distracted by the thought of Chenle by himself down the hall. A knock on the glass door jolts you out of your thoughts. You see Jeno standing there with a file in his hands. You beckon for him to come in, and he gestures at the seat as if to ask you if he can sit.
“Please.” You nod, folding your hands together. “Did you need something?”
The man hands you the file. “We were able to trace the owner of the bank account, and an address associated with it. I…I figured it’d be best to leave this information with you, given that this could be sensitive information.”
You open it, glancing through the charges. “It started with a different bank account and name.”
“It did. Payments were originally made to a Liu Shuye, and just over two years ago, the bank account switched to a Liu Sujia.” Jeno pauses and takes a deep breath. “I think it’d be better for you to do this portion of it on your own.”
“They have different surnames.” You tap your pen on your desk. “And you’ve never heard of this person before today?”
“Not once.”
“Very well.” You sigh and close the folder, gaze meeting Jeno’s. “Thank you. I’ll look into this further and determine at what point Chenle needs to be involved. For now, Jeno, keep this between us.”
“Of course.” Jeno nods and stands. With a quick bow of his head, he moves to the door. “He’s a good man, (Y/N). Chenle, I mean. But he feels too easily, so tread carefully with whatever you find.”
“I will.”
Once Jeno departs, you cross your arms over your chest and stare down at the information delivered. These payments were made for years, so you’re unsure of how this could relate to Chenle in specific, but you feel an overwhelming resolve to make sure whatever this is doesn’t hurt him.
Chenle came to get you from your office at almost 7pm. He refused to let you work any longer and insisted he had to take you home. Your mind has been turning since Jeno brought you the documents, but you leave them buried in your desk and lay your head on Chenle’s shoulder for the duration of the car ride home. Once you're inside the house, Chenle takes your jacket off your shoulders and hangs it. You turn to him and grab his hand.
“Come to bed with me?” you ask.
“Of course.” He gives you the softest smile, and as you walk up the stairs, he follows closely behind you.
The two of you step inside his room. Chenle closes the door and then wraps his arms around your waist and tugs your back to his chest. He buries his head in your neck, a hum escaping past his lips.
“Are you tired?” you ask him, reaching up to play with his hair.
“No,” he mumbles. “I just want to be close to you. It’s been a long day, and you make me feel better.”
“Is that so?” You face him and tilt your head.
“I was scared to fall for you, too,” he whispers. “For anyone, but especially you. I know the reasons we’re here are vastly different from a conventional marriage, but I already wanted you before all of this.”
Your heart thuds in your chest as you realize his use of past tense. He was scared. Does that mean he already has fallen for you?
“C’mere,” you mutter. “We can be closer.”
“Are you sure?” He cups your cheeks, thumbing your skin. “I know we’ve gone back and forth a couple times, but I need you to know you don’t have to do anything for me. Ever.”
“Kiss me, Chenle.”
All events of the day are forgotten as soon as his lips are on yours. His hands explore along your back, fingers clenching onto the fabric of your dress as he inhales shakily. When he pulls away, it’s only for a second, as if he can’t stop himself from going back for more.
“Please tell me this means something to you.” He gulps, his words punctuated by kisses as he turns you around and walks you backward. “That I’m not crazy for wanting you the way I do.”
As the back of your knees make contact with the bed, you grip onto his shoulders, breathless from the passion behind his kiss. “You’re not crazy. It’s terrifying how fast you’ve become all I think about. Your smile and your laugh and the passion you carry. This means everything to me.”
His eyes sparkle in the lamp-lit room, a warmth dancing around in them you’ve never seen from anyone before. He finds the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down.
“I hope you truly know how fucking exquisite you are,” Chenle murmurs, removing the fabric from your body and returning his touch to your back to explore your bare skin. “I don’t want to fight these feelings anymore.”
“Do something about it, then.”
The heat radiating from him keeps the chill of the air in the room off of your skin, and after he guides your back down on the mattress, he haphazardly tosses his suit jacket away. You scoot back to give him more space, and he climbs on top of you. You part your legs further, nearly gasping when he takes his spot between them, pressing against you as if he were made to fill that space. As he takes your lips with his own, you work on the buttons of his shirt. Your hands shake, making it difficult, but he doesn’t mention it. He keeps kissing you like he’ll die of thirst the second he pulls away.
You finally get the last one, and he sits up briefly to rid himself of the extra material. Before it’s even completely removed, you reach down for his belt. He stares at your hands as you unbuckle it, but you don’t have time to slide it off him. When his mouth crashes into yours again, you lift your hips up.
A quiet, needy sigh passes through his lips. “God, I fucking need you so bad.”
“I’m yours,” you tell him. “Show me how much you need me.”
He grinds down against you, and his hard length slides against the wet spot in your lace panties. That time, you do gasp. It’s been much too long since you allowed yourself pleasure by another’s hand, and you crave that closeness with Chenle.
“Can I touch you?” he asks, voice rough.
“Please.” You nod. “Touch me wherever you want.”
He curses under his breath, but he presses his lips to yours once more, then along your jawline, down your neck, and paying attention to the valley between your breasts. He squeezes the right one, rubbing his thumb against your nipple through the somewhat thick material.
“You’re so fucking pretty.” He nips at your skin, and you already know he’ll leave marks on you. Pausing, he takes a deep breath. “You—you’ve done this before, right?”
“Done what?”
“Sex.”
“I have. Why?”
“No, I just…you said you’d never been in love before and I didn’t want to just assume that you—”
“Just keep going.” You blush, but he listens to your command without hesitation.
When his mouth continues downward, leaving a trail of his saliva on your stomach until he reaches the hem of your panties. He tongues along the band, his eyes flicking up to yours.
“Good God,” you whisper, the urge between your legs becoming far too much for comfort. “What are you doing?”
“Getting my fill.” He leaves open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs.
When his thumb brushes your clit through your panties, your hips jolt. You curse, grasping onto the sheets as you prepare yourself for whatever he has planned. He smirks at your reaction, and as he pulls at your underwear, you lift up to urge him to move faster. He wraps his arms around your legs, his hands pressing your hips down into the mattress. Even though he opens his mouth to speak to you, his eyes don’t leave your glistening core.
“You can stop me if you change your mind. Just tell me.” He gulps, wetting his lips like he’s struggling to hold back.
“I won’t change my mind,” you reassure him.
“But you need to know it’s always an option.” He squeezes you gently, and without awaiting your response, he slides his tongue from your entrance to your clit.
No matter how embarrassing it is, you can’t stop the whimper escaping you. His tongue flicks your clit one, two, three times as he digs his nails into your skin. Pleasure isn’t entirely foreign to you, but you’re sure it’s the way your soul has begun craving Chenle’s that makes this so much better than anything else you’ve experienced. His grip on you keeps you from squirming too much, but you try regardless. As he steadily moves over your clit, your back arches off the mattress. Whines leave your mouth as you run your fingers through Chenle’s hair in encouragement.
He takes your sensitive bud into his mouth, sucking to add pressure, only to release it and start all over again. You lift yourself on your elbows to watch him, all while practically pushing his head further between your legs. His eyes are closed, and seeing his lips work on your core has to be one of the most erotic things you’ve ever witnessed.
“You taste so fucking good,” he groans, the vibrations against your entrance sending shivers up and down your spine.
You feel yourself approaching the edge. Your body tenses, but your high won’t take you. Cursing quietly, you lift your hips in an attempt to figure out why the hell you can’t get out of your head. Chenle pulls away from your core, pressing kisses to your inner thigh. “Relax, darling. It doesn’t matter how long it takes.”
“Please just…” You drop your head back on the mattress and let out a defeated breath. “I want all of you.”
He leans over to the bedside table and grabs a condom, trailing his lips up your body once more until he reaches your neck. His teeth graze your skin. “You can trust me, (Y/N). I’ll take care of you.”
“I do,” you mutter, running your fingers through his hair. “I swear I do.”
“It’s not me you have to convince.” He nips your collarbone. “We don’t have to keep going if you’re not ready.”
You shake your head. “I’m ready. I want you.”
“Okay.” He nods, pulling back to meet your gaze. His features are soft, nothing short of adoration in his eyes. “Try not to think about it too much. Just feel.”
“I’ve never been good at that.” You chuckle and grin at him.
“I’ll show you how, baby. I’ve got you.”
You crane upwards to kiss him, and he meets you in the middle. Tasting yourself on his tongue has you sighing into him, and you push at his pants in hopes that he’ll take the hint. He pauses to rid himself of the rest of his clothing, and then slides his hands beneath you to unclasp your bra. You arch your back to give him more space, and soon enough, nothing separates you from your husband anymore.
“You’re sure?” he asks you again, grabbing the wrapper once more.
“I want you,” you confirm.
Despite the confidence you usually feel, something here feels more…vulnerable than you’ve ever been. Your heart flutters in your chest as he opens the condom and slides it on, and you spread your legs further as he climbs over you again. No man has ever made you nervous before, even in similar situations, but something with him is different. You care about him. You want him to feel good, too, and you crave his promises of taking care of you.
“Need you to relax,” he whispers, peppering kisses on your jawline as he lines himself up with your soaked entrance. “Close your eyes, darling, just let yourself feel.”
You tilt your head back to give him better access to your neck, and you listen to him. Through the darkness, you see the world you drew on his ceiling, the one with beautiful landscapes, overarching mountains, fresh, clean streams, and you sigh in content. The middle of the map, the location you craved to be in, is right here. With him. His breath catches in his throat as he slides inside you, his length stretching you. He gulps and rests his head on your shoulder as he attempts to steady himself. You tangle your fingers in his hair, combing through the midnight strands. After both of you calm down from the initial overwhelming movement, you wrap your legs around his waist and lock your ankles together, tugging him up to kiss you. His lips work softly on yours, and he slowly grinds against you. He pulls out until only the tip is inside, and as he pushes back in, he moans into your mouth. Your body shudders at the sound.
“Tell me how it feels,” he says, chest pressed to yours. “How do I make you feel?”
“Chenle, I—” You blush despite the situation.
“You don’t have to be shy with me, baby. Let me help you.” He repeats his previous movement, and you watch as his eyes flutter from the pleasure. “I can tell you how it feels for me.”
You nod. “Please.”
The pace he sets is slow but has electricity coursing through your veins anyway. He continues to pull out almost all the way, just to allow you to experience the entirety of his length rubbing against your inner walls.
He gulps, pressing his lips to your ear. “You’re divine, darling. You’re squeezing me so tight, I could stay here forever. It’s like you were fucking made for me, soaked and so fucking warm, baby, you take me so well.”
Everything he does is like a lightning strike, every fiber in your muscles breaking down as you yearn for this completion. You know you’ll never be able to stay away from him. Even if you don’t finish, this journey is just as good as the destination.
“Feels like I’m on fire,” you whisper. Thankfully, your eyes are closed, or he’d see them roll back. “You’re everywhere and it’s still not enough.”
He picks up his pace a bit, and a moan tumbles from your lips. He holds himself up on one of his elbows, his other hand gripping your thigh.
“That’s it.” He kisses you, gently biting at your bottom lip as he pulls away. “I could never have enough of you. Need you always. Forever.”
Your heart thuds against your ribcage, and despite the pleasure clouding your brain, you allow those words to sink in through your skin and bones, deeper still until they reach your soul. There, they repeat over and over again until they’re permanently tattooed upon every recognizable piece of yourself. The hand on your thigh skirts downwards, his palm pressing on your abdomen as his thumb brushes your clit. You jolt and whine, digging your nails into his shoulders. He curses, but doesn’t let up. As the knot forms in your stomach, you open your eyes to watch Chenle, his face scrunched in pleasure as your walls flutter around him as your high approaches. He doesn’t look away from you, and as you lift your hips to match his thrusts, his fist clenches the sheets next to your head.
“So fucking wet,” he groans, his thumb never faltering in pace as he rocks his hips against yours. “You’re so perfect, darling. Gonna let me feel you cum?”
Between the slide of his length inside you and the pressure on your sensitive bud, you’re dazed at best. You nod, gripping onto him.
“I’m so close,” you whimper. “God, I want it so bad.”
Chenle adjusts his hips, and the next time he thrusts in, he hits a spot that has you seeing stars. You’ve never unraveled like this before, but your body shakes as overwhelming pleasure takes over, your vision spotting as you cry out and grip onto your husband. Your toes curl as he quickens his pace, and it doesn’t take much longer for him to press himself as deep as he can to finish in the condom. His body slumps on top of yours, his chest heaving as he presses his lips across your hot skin.
“(Y/N)...” he says between pants. “Oh, my God.”
You let out a breathless giggle. “I didn’t do any of the work.”
“Promise you, just you being here is more than enough for me.” He kisses your cheek and gently removes your legs from his waist. “I’ll be right back.”
You stop yourself from whining at the loss of him inside you, but as he goes to dispose of the condom, you get yourself clothes to put on. You slide a new pair of panties on before setting your silk pajama set on the bed.
Chenle’s arm wraps around your waist, and he presses his back to your chest. “What are you doing?”
“Getting dressed.” You chuckle. “What should I be doing?”
“Absolutely nothing.” He presses a kiss to the base of your neck. “Supposed to be naked in bed and waiting for me.”
“Ah, is that so?” You pretend to be in thought, tapping your fingers on his wrist.
“Mhm. Don’t you know bare skin-to-skin contact promotes good bonding?” He pulls you away from the foot of the bed and guides you back to where he left you. “Bet you’ll sleep better, too.”
The two of you climb into bed together, and despite the way your internal temperature is much too high, you still thrive in the extra warmth of his embrace. You rest your head on his chest, his nails gently scratching up and down your back. He falls asleep first, his steady breathing nearly lulling you as well. You adjust your head on the pillow so you can see the softness of his features, and you allow yourself to reach up and trace along his cheekbone. If anyone had asked you at the beginning if you’d ever thought a moment as intimate as this were possible, you’d quickly tell them no. There was no way you’d ever let yourself be so vulnerable with anyone. Especially not someone who has no obligations to you other than legally marrying you.
But this is more. It’s so much more than a business arrangement, and maybe a part of you has always known that. It wasn’t hating him you were scared of, but loving him.
But here you are. And you’re long past falling.
Your morning is unfortunately hectic in the wake of the events of last night. Of course, you should’ve expected moments of relaxation in your marriage to be nearly non-existent, but neither you nor Chenle wanted to get out of bed. Despite that, today you planned on going to the address listed on the bank account. You roped Jisung in, even though he didn’t know all the details. He’s your cousin, after all, and he wasn’t going to let you do anything potentially dangerous on your own. Although, you’re not sure he could do anything in a ‘dangerous’ situation anyway. He may be physically giant, but he truly acted like a teddy bear.
You and Jisung sit in the backseat while the driver takes you to the house, and you’re flipping through a binder of papers while Jisung is on his phone.
“You know.” He pauses, waiting for your attention. “I stopped by your house last night.”
You turn to him and frown. “You did? How come I didn’t see you?”
“When I arrived, the staff said it would be best not to interrupt you at the time. They didn’t really say why, but I can only imagine. Either you and Chenle were in the process of murdering each other, or you guys are really going all in on the heir making.”
Your face heats up and you scratch your head. “I—I took your advice, is all. We’re kind of trying to figure things out, I think.”
“Uh huh. So the turtleneck isn’t a strategic move?”
“Park Jisung!” You push his shoulder. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”
“No, of course not.” He bites back his teasing grin. “I’m just saying, it’s good that you’re opening up to him. You guys are pretty much stuck together, so you should at least try to make the best of things.”
“But yes, we are certainly…making the best of things.” You grin to yourself and focus back on your binder.
“So, I can stop hearing your dad complain about no heir news soon?” He rolls his eyes. “That man is truly insufferable.”
You shake your head. “Can’t say the possibility is zero, but we used protection, so probably not. And yes, my father is insufferable. When he came over last time, he implied Chenle was impotent in front of both of his parents.”
“I’m shocked by both—why not try for pregnancy if you’re already sleeping together? And why would you not being pregnant after two months mean Chenle’s impotent?”
“You just live for drama, don’t you?” You quirk an eyebrow at him. “My husband would prefer to only have a family if it’s a real one. Meaning we would love each other. And I don’t question my father’s logic. I’m not sure how he got as far as he has in business when he lacks so much common sense. Like I’m a breeding mule or something.”
“Huh.” Jisung pauses and slumps back against his seat. “Aren’t you lucky?”
“Luck has nothing to do with it, Andy. None of this is short of hard work.”
Your driver opens the door, and before Jisung can respond, you’re stepping onto the sidewalk. The house in front of you is in a suburb, an exact replica of everything else around it. It’s not remarkable by any means. For someone making over half a million dollars every year, they sure do still live modestly.
“Don’t say a word,” you warn Jisung. “I’ll handle this.”
“Considering I have no idea what’s going on, I will happily let that happen.”
You stop at the front door, knocking three times. Standing completely rigid, you wait for anyone to answer. Once it opens, you’re confronted by a surprised woman. Her hair is long and black, reaching the center of her back. Brown eyes widen in shock.
“You can’t be here.” She moves to shut the door, but Jisung stops it over your shoulder.
“I’m—”
“You’re Chenle’s wife. I know who you are.” Her jaw tightens. “You need to go.”
“Unfortunately, that’s not an option. I’m here on company business, because apparently someone decided sending $143,000 a quarter to your bank account was acceptable. You can let me in, or we can make a spectacle out here. It’s your choice.”
The woman, who can’t be too far from your age, blinks through her frustration and opens the door wider for you to step inside. You do, and she gestures to the couch.
“Have a seat. I’ll grab us all some water.” She exits the room, and you and Jisung sit down on the couch.
Despite you being resilient in hiding your nerves from people, Jisung is able to read you like a book. “Don’t jump to conclusions,” Jisung warns you quietly. “You have no idea what’s going on.”
“Right. Only her being familiar enough with my husband to only use his first name. Not a big deal at all.” You clench your fists together.
“You said he had no idea about the payments.”
“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t know her.” You shake your head. “He has no idea I’m here.”
Movement catches your attention, and you see eyes peeking around the corner. Your jaw drops before you can stop yourself, and then the small child steps into the open. You grasp onto Jisung’s sleeve, and those conclusions he told you not to jump to? Yeah, you dive into them.
“Who are you?” he asks. He can’t be more than four, and he looks achingly familiar.
“Jisung,” you whisper.
Jisung leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m Jisung. Who are you?”
“My name is Yichen.” He walks over and sits on the coffee table in front of you and your cousin. “I’m almost five.”
“Wow,” Jisung feigns surprise. “You’re getting so old.”
“That’s what my mommy says, too.” He scrunches up his face.
You’re struggling to breathe at this point, and that’s when Sujia decides to come back. She curses under her breath the second she recognizes her child in the room, and she quickly sets the glasses of water down before shooing him back up the stairs. You’re suddenly, painfully aware of Chenle telling you he’s been in love before. Of knowing there are women out there he’s wanted in the same way he’s sure he wants you.
“I think I’m going to puke,” you whisper to Jisung, careful not to let Sujia hear. “You don’t think…?”
Before Jisung can confirm or deny whether your suspicions are valid, Sujia sits across from you on the couch. The first thing you do is look for a ring on her finger, and when you don’t find one, you feel an unmistakable lump form in your throat.
“Why are you here?” she asks. “I’ve done everything I was supposed to. I haven’t told anyone anything, and my son and I are peacefully living far away from everything.”
“That’s the issue. I haven’t the faintest clue who you struck some sort of deal with for this money, nor do I know why. And if you want the payments to continue, you’ll tell me everything.”
“Is there something in specific you’d like to ask?” She frowns.
“What makes you say that?”
“You suddenly look like you’re ready to rip my throat out,” Sujia retorts.
“The child. Is he Chenle’s?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
Sujia visibly recoils, eyes widening as she glances between you and Jisung. “You…Are you joking? Of course not. Chenle—dear God, Chenle’s my brother.”
You swear your life flashed before your eyes, and as you drop your head into your hands, you let out a shaky sigh of relief. Your heart still races, but it starts to slow at the news that your husband doesn’t have a secret child.
“I’m sorry, your brother?” Jisung asks. “I wasn’t aware Chenle had any siblings.”
“No one is. That’s why we’re receiving the payments.” She pauses, wetting her lips. “Chenle’s father—our father—met my mother many years ago. I see him quite often, and he’s aware he has a grandchild. I figured he never told Chenle, and this confirms my suspicions. Considering his parents never divorced, I can only assume it’s because she is also unaware.”
“He recently became aware of the payments.” Because of you. “And quite honestly, I don’t think this news will sit well with him.”
“Don’t.” Sujia shakes her head frantically. “Don’t tell him. We…We need that money, okay? And he has full power to take it away from us.”
“Do you know anything about him?” you ask her.
“Just what our father told me.”
“Chenle is exponentially kind. He’d never simply cut ties and leave you to struggle. It’s not like you lied to him by choice.” You take a deep breath and brush your skirt off. “He’s the best man I know. And for that reason, I could never intentionally keep this from him. I’m sorry.”
“I understand.” Sujia runs her tongue along her teeth.
“And on the off chance he doesn’t continue payments, I will personally make sure you’re okay.”
“You actually care about him.” She tilts her head at you.
“It’s hard not to care for someone like him.” You stand up. “I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time. And for thinking your child was my husband’s. Thank you for talking to me. Can we exchange numbers? I can keep you updated on how things go.”
You make haste of retrieving her number, and then you and Jisung leave the house. Once you're back in the car, you let out a long, pent up breath. You tug your fingers through your hair and curse quietly.
“Are you okay?” Jisung asks.
“Honestly? I’m okay now that I know this isn’t Chenle’s fuck up.” You nod. “I think I need to pay his father a visit.”
“You’re going to confront…his father?”
“I’m going to confirm the story, obviously. And if it’s true, I’m going to tell him what an incredible fuck up he is.” You turn off the emotions switch, your face going stone cold. “Chenle looks up to that prick.”
When you arrive at his parents’ house, you’re greeted by staff and Chenle’s mother. Jisung opts to stay in the car, and his mother rushes to bring you further into the house.
“Ah, (Y/N), what a pleasant surprise.”
Not if she doesn’t know about the secret child.
“What brings you here?” she asks.
“Chenle requested I bring these files for his father. Is he here?” You smile at her.
“Of course. He’s in his office. It’s down the hall, all the way to the back on the right.” She pats your shoulder.
You bow your head to her in thanks, and then you make your way down the hall. Knocking once, you await his confirmation to walk in. He sits behind the giant desk, glasses hanging on the edge of his nose. You note a lot of Chenle’s features come from him, but you can’t believe how vastly different they truly are.
“(Y/N).” He leans back on his chair. “Was I expecting you?”
“No.” You approach him and drop the paper with her bank account information on it. “Liu Sujia.”
His eyes widen, barely noticeably, and he looks at you. “Where did you hear that name?”
“Did you think no one would notice payments that high to a random bank account? From the company?”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. A bank account means nothing. You can’t even be sure I was the one facilitating such payments. Chenle has been CEO for years now, so it’s been under his nose, too—”
“I don’t need your excuses. Or your explanations. You’re not my father, and quite frankly, I don’t care about the state of your family.” You glare at the man in front of you. “But I also spoke with Ms. Liu. She has a child. Your grandson, and Chenle’s nephew. You think he doesn’t deserve to know?”
“If you don’t care about the state of my family, why are you doing this now?”
“Because I care about my family. And the second Chenle married me, he became part of it. And while you may not love your son, I do. I won’t let you lie to him.” The words fall right out without a second thought, and you fight the embarrassment of admitting your feelings to his father before Chenle.
“So, why come here? Why not go right to Chenle?”
“I’m sure he will have his own things to say to you later. I wanted the chance to let you know, objectively, what a selfish asshole you are. Your son idolizes you for the life you built for him. For showing him that a man can be loyal to a wife he may not love, if not for his child’s sake. But you weren’t. Everything he respects you for is a lie, and you’re despicable for being okay with that.”
“How dare you come into my home and talk to me this way?” His eyebrows furrow in anger, and he leans forward, but you don’t even flinch.
“I don’t fear you,” you hiss at him. “You are human, just like everyone else. If you deserve to be scolded like a child, I have no problem being the only one with enough balls to do it. If you lose Chenle because of this, I hope you lie in your fucking grave. I’ll pay people to dance on it.”
You turn your back on him, throwing the door open and stomping down the hallway before you give him the opportunity to say anything else. Sending a smile towards Chenle’s mother, you nod once at her before walking back outside to your car.
Gaining the courage to tell Chenle takes much longer than you’d like. You get back to your office, finding Chenle waiting for you. He smiles at you, one of his genuine, happy ones, and presses a quick kiss to your lips as you approach him.
“I never thought I’d find a time where the CEO’s not busy,” you tease him. “What are you doing here?”
“I figured we could take a break and go get some lunch.” He tugs you closer. “It’s been a long day, and all I want is to be with my wife. Is that so wrong?”
You purse your lips and tilt your head. “Wrong? No. Crazy? Maybe a smidge.”
“Wow, you just called me crazy. That hurt.” He chuckles.
“How about we just order something and eat it here?” you ask. “I have a bunch of stuff to do, but I would love for you to be with me.”
“Of course. What did you want to eat? I’ll tell the secretary to order it.”
“Whatever you’re thinking is good,” you tell him, leaning back on your desk. “I’m not too picky.”
“I’ll be right back.” He kisses your cheek, and when he closes the door behind him, you let out a sigh. It feels like you’re lying to him now, but you couldn’t drop something huge like that on him now.
Not when he was looking at you with such affection. What if you telling him this makes him hate you, too?
When he comes back, he sits across from you and rests his head on his palm. “Are you okay?”
“Huh?” You frown at him. “What do you mean?”
“You’re just acting…different, I don’t know. Is this about last night? Did I do something wrong?” His forehead creases with worry, and your heart sinks in your chest.
“No, no, last night was good. I really liked last night.” You try to fight off the embarrassment at your words, but it doesn’t work very well. The tips of your ears burn.
“Okay.” He reaches across the desk and grabs your hand. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going on. As long as I’m not the one making you feel that way, I can wait until you want to talk about it.”
“Chenle,” you whisper, squeezing him. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being you.” You glance down. “For not being what I expected.”
“I want to take care of you. Not because I think you can’t, but because I want to. I can be a safe space for you, and I’d never do anything to harm that image.”
You stand up and walk over to him, grabbing both of his hands. “I think I might be able to let you do that.”
“I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this.” He pulls you closer until you’re straddling his lap. “You amaze me every day.”
“We’re at work,” you scold him.
“I don’t see you trying to move,” he teases, palms exploring your back. “I was kinda sad we had to rush this morning. I would’ve loved to just lay there with you for as long as possible.”
You relax on top of him, fighting a smile as you study him closely. “I need to stop wearing lipstick.”
“Why?” he asks. “Do you wanna kiss me again?”
“I want to kiss you a lot.” You nod.
“I can wipe lipstick off.”
“What if mine gets smudged?”
“Tell people to mind their business. We’re newlyweds.” He watches your expression as his hands dip down to grip your ass through your dress. “I think the newlywed era started yesterday. Because all I want to do is be with you. All over you. Inside you.”
“Jesus Christ, Chenle.” You smack his chest. “Composure.”
He grins. “C’mon. You were thinking it, too.”
“We certainly can’t do it here,” you tell him.
“It’s my building.”
You give him a pointed look. “I’m trying to get your employees to respect me. They won’t if they think I’m here simply because I let you screw me on the desk.”
“I gave you the position before I ever even slept with you.”
“They don’t know that.” You roll your eyes and clamber off his lap. “There actually is something I wanted to talk to you about later at home. Are you leaving at a decent time?”
“I figured we’d leave together whenever you were done. If that’s okay.” Chenle clasps his hands together in his lap.
“Perfect.”
Before you do anything else with him, you need to tell him about his father. You just hope you don’t lose your husband in the process.
You bring the binder home with you. On the car ride home, you loop your arm through Chenle’s and rest your head on his shoulder. He can sense your nervous energy and tries to soothe you with a kiss to your head. You and Chenle go upstairs, and you sit on the edge of the bed. He follows suit despite your nerves transferring into him the longer you stay silent.
“I wanted to talk to you about that charge we found.” You put your hand on his knee. “And it’s a lot, okay? So I just want you to listen to me.”
He frowns but nods in response.
“Jeno and Jisung helped me with it. Jeno found out the account belonged to a woman, and there was an address associated with it. Jisung went with me to the house, and when we got there, I met with the woman.” You pause and scratch the top of your head. “She has a little boy. He’s almost five. And to be honest, it was a possibility in my head that you might’ve…I don’t know, accidentally fathered a child, but thankfully, it wasn’t that.”
“(Y/N), who is she?”
“She’s your sister. Your half-sister, I guess.” You gulp, refusing to make eye contact with him. “And the little boy is your nephew.”
“Oh.” His voice shakes uncharacteristically, and he inhales.
“Your dad has been paying her and her mother off for years so you and your mother didn’t find out.” You close your eyes. “And she begged me not to tell you because she’s scared she’ll stop receiving her money. Which I get, honestly, but I couldn’t keep this from you. Not when I know how—”
“(Y/N), please. I need a second.” He drops his head in his palms. His jaw tightens, and he angles his gaze to the ceiling.
“Come here,” you murmur, opening your arms for him. Immediately, he melts into your grasp, resting on your chest as you stroke the top of his head. “I’m so sorry.”
He grasps the fabric of your dress in his fist as he uses you to ground himself. “The whole time I admired him for being better, he just fucking sucked?”
You can’t tell if it’s anger or sadness that makes his voice shake.
“You’re sure?”
You nod. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that,” he tells you. “You didn’t do this.”
“No, I didn’t, but I love you, Chenle. I hate seeing you like this.” You and Chenle both tense up. He lifts his head to look at you, and your heart nearly shatters at the welled up tears in his eyes. You keep looking at him, more than nervous for his response.
“What?” His voice is hoarse, almost like it’s caught in his throat. “What did you say?”
“It’s not important right now, okay? I wasn’t thinking.” Your own tears form, and you try your best to blink them away. “No thinking, just feeling didn’t really work in this situation, huh?”
“You love me?” He cups your cheek and turns you to him. “Do you mean that?”
“Are you kidding me?” You scoff. “Of course, I do.”
You shouldn’t have done that now, given how overwhelmed he is, but it truly slipped out. He stares at you in shock, and when he parts his lips, a tear slips down his cheek. You shake your head, reaching forward and wiping it away with your thumb.
“Don’t cry,” you say. “This is all so much, I shouldn’t have dropped that on you like this, I’m so sorry—”
“Stop apologizing. Please.”
“I don’t ever want to hurt you.”
“Darling, at this point, you’re the only one who hasn’t.” He rests his forehead on yours. “And you…you loving me makes all of this worth it. Nobody has that power over me when I have you by my side.”
“I do. I love you.” You sniffle and hold him tighter.
“I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you walk into the room. I love you when you’re a thousand steps ahead of me, and I love you when you’re walking my pace. All the time, without fail and without reprieve.”
Every bit of oxygen is stolen right from your lungs, and all you want to do is scream and cry and punch his father in the face. Such a pathetic man doesn’t deserve a son like Chenle.
“Zhong Chenle, you’ve broken me in all the best ways. That terrible wall, the shell around my heart…I don’t want to face the world alone anymore. I need you with me.” You rub your thumbs along his cheeks, swiping up the next couple tears that fall.
“I will be better than my father. Than yours. We’ll do this the right way, okay?” He inhales sharply.
“I don’t doubt that one bit.” You lean forward and kiss his forehead. “What are you thinking? What do you want to do about all of this?”
“I’d like to meet her. My sister. And my nephew.” He chews the inside of his cheek. “She won’t have to worry about money. We’ll have to stop paying her through the company, but it’ll come out of our personal account. If that’s alright with you.”
“Somehow, I had a feeling you’d say that. Of course, that’s okay with me.”
“Can you set that up please?” he asks softly. “I honestly don’t know how, and she already knows you so…”
“You don’t have to explain. I’ll do it.” You run your fingers through his hair. “You’re the bravest person I know. Not everyone would handle it the way you are.”
“We’ll figure this out, yeah?”
“Between the two of us, there’s not a problem in this world we couldn’t solve.” You kiss the tip of his nose and stand from the bed, holding your hand out to him.
“What?”
“I was thinking we could take a bath. Help each other relax.”
He gives you a tired smile and nods. “That sounds amazing.”
You start the water and put a more-than-appropriate amount of the bubble bath liquid in it. Tying your hair up to prevent it from getting wet, you smile to yourself when you feel Chenle’s hands on your waist.
“Need some help getting this off?” He tugs on your dress.
“I might need help with everything,” you hum, letting your eyes flutter shut as he unzips your dress.
Once it's thrown across the room, you unbutton Chenle’s shirt, pushing it from his shoulders. Soon enough, both of you are beneath water and bubbles, and his arms are locked firmly around your waist. You rest against his chest, allowing the lavender scent to soothe your stress.
“Y’know what we’re missing?” you mumble. “Champagne.”
“I can have someone bring it to us. Just say the word.” He kisses your temple.
You shake your head. “We’re naked.”
“They’re professionals.” He laughs and squeezes you. “And I can have them leave it in the bedroom.”
“Right, and make sure there’s a heart made out of flower petals on the bed.” You roll your eyes.
“You can have anything you desire, (Y/N). You’re my wife. The sky’s truly the limit.” He explores your skin out of curiosity, mapping his way around your body.
You sit up and look over your shoulder at him. “You know what I want?”
He raises his eyebrows in response.
“I want it all.” You grab his hand. “I want you. The good days and the bad ones. Whatever trial comes our way, I want us to figure it out together.”
“Do you…Do you actually want children? Or is that something you feel like you have to do?” he asks.
“Honestly, I don’t know. There was a brief moment when I met Sujia and Yichen that I thought…I thought that he could’ve been yours. I mean, he looks like you a little bit, but he’s your nephew so that’s not weird. When that became a possibility in my head, it hurt. Stung, is more like it. I guess I figured that any children you’d have would be mine as well, and to think there were others you might have—”
“Darling,” he coos, tightening his grip on you. “I promise you, I do not have any secret children. Nor will I ever. You will be very, very aware of any child I have. I don’t want them if it’s not with you.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder.
“That’s good.” You nod and lean back against him once more. “We have time to think about it, right?”
“Take as much time as you need.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m not going anywhere.”
You hesitated to have Chenle meet Sujia so quickly. A week passes before you consider reaching out to her, and you know Chenle is waiting for it. She has to be too, at this point, probably worried about whether or not her money supply was going to be cut off. He has yet to confront his father, but you assume that will come with time. For now, you’re curled up next to him in bed, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. Finally, it’s a rest day for you both, and you get to spend the whole day with him uninterrupted.
His fingers run through your hair, a deep breath passing by his lips. “Darling.”
“Hm?” You move closer to him, burying your head in his neck.
“Kiss me?”
You don’t hesitate to do as he asks, humming against his lips as the two of you connect. He shifts to his side to get closer to you, his hand trailing from your hip, down your leg, until he finds the back of your knee. Pulling your leg over his waist, he shuffles closer to you, pressing his body to yours.
“What are you doing?” you ask him, smiling.
“Loving you,” he replies easily, sliding his hand back up to your ass. The thin fabric of your shorts does little to hide the sensation of him squeezing you. You don’t mean to gasp, but you attempt to distract him by tangling your fingers in his hair.
“Tell me what you want.” You pull back to get a good look at him.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he admits. “How fucking good you made me feel.”
“More.”
“You’ve been telling me you love me for a week now and I haven’t been able to hear it when I’m inside you. God, I never thought I’d be like this. It’s only been a week.” He squeezes you harder, pushing his hard length against you.
As he grinds himself slowly into your core, you curse and wrap your arms around him. “Why did you wait this long?” you ask him breathlessly.
“Didn’t wanna push you.” He kisses along your neck, nipping wherever he can reach. “Don’t want you to think this is all I want. Fucking been hard all day, darling. Every time you walked into the fucking room all week, instantly ready to bend you over.”
Your body shudders as you process his words. “Why don’t you lay back? Let me take care of you.”
“I need you so bad,” he groans. “I could cum just hearing you talk like that.”
You push him onto his back and quickly straddle him. Rolling your hips, you curse under your breath as you feel his hard length against your clit.
“Chenle,” you mutter, trailing your hands beneath his shirt. “Do you prefer ass or tits?”
“That’s an odd question.”
“You won’t regret answering.”
“Ass.”
“Perfect. Do you have a condom?” You raise your eyebrows at him.
“They’re in the bedside table—darling, I didn’t prep you yet—”
“You’re not the only one who’s needy,” you interrupt him, quickly moving to grab one of the wrappers. Before you climb on top of him again, you kiss his cheek. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want, my love. You don’t have to ask.”
You shove your shorts and panties down, and as you pull at his sweats and boxers, his fists clench at his sides. His length smacks against his stomach, and he wraps his fingers around himself to relieve some of the ache. You didn’t get to see it much the first time, but you take a second to appreciate just how fucking pretty he is. He’s so hard, it’s probably starting to hurt.
He runs his thumb over the tip and gasps. “Baby, please.”
You waste no more time in getting the condom on him, and then you straddle his lap again, but backwards this time. As you quickly sink down on his length, taking him all the way inside, he moans loudly.
“God, you’re so fucking hot.” He drags his nails down your back until he reaches your ass, and then he grips you tightly with both hands. “You needed me, too, huh? Dripping all over me when I haven’t even touched you yet.”
You brace yourself on the mattress between his legs, and set a fast, steady pace. He moans every time you sink all the way down, and your fingers curl into the sheets. You easily ignore the ache beginning in your thighs when you listen to him and how good you’re making him feel. He spurs you on, his moans slowly turning to higher pitched whines.
“Can we—fuck, can we try something?” Chenle asks, gripping your hips to hold you still.
“Whatever you need.” You shakily lift yourself off of him, and he quickly moves from below you. He removes his shirt before aiding you in doing the same.
He guides you to arch your back, your face pressed into the mattress as your walls clench around nothing. His tip catches on your clit, and your body jolts, but you grip onto the sheets instead.
“Gonna fuck you good, darling. Wanna hear you the whole time, got it?” His voice sends needles of pleasure pricking into your spine, and you know you can ignore everything else once he’s buried inside you.
“Yes.” You nod. Your fingers curl into the sheets as he slides in. The angle has you seeing stars, and your mouth falls open at the sensation.
His hands squeeze your ass as he starts slowly, the rub of him against your walls making your legs tremble already. You worry briefly about being too distracted, but as reaches around you to put his hand between your legs, all thoughts besides the way he feels completely obliterate. He rubs your clit in pace with his thrusts, his breathing uneven as he works your body as if he’s touched you for years. You barely recognize yourself when your moans slip past your lips. You’ve never let go like this before, and through your daze, you push yourself back against him. He tentatively smacks your ass, light enough to make you crave the contact. You can’t breathe as you curse.
“Again,” you whine, your entire being on the brink of collapse. “More.”
“Earn it, baby,” he commands. “You know what I want to hear.”
You let out a shuddering breath as his tip nudges that spot inside you. “Fuck, I love you. I need more.”
He smacks you harder this time, and the loud, needy moan that pours from your lips gets distorted by the way he starts to slam his hips against you. His fingers speed up on your clit, and you’re already teetering on the edge. Sounds of your arousal emanate around the room, mixing with both of your moans. His skin clapping against yours has every muscle in your body craving the release you know is so, so close.
As your high smashes into you like a tidal wave, the pleasure is so overwhelming, you cry out and clench onto the sheets. Chenle curses as his thrusts begin to falter, but you barely hear him. You’re much too sensitive, and you whimper as his fingers still work your bud. Without warning, he pulls out of you. You whine at the loss, attempting to push back, but he grips your hips and flips you onto your back. Gasping at the sudden movement, you grab for him as he climbs over you.
“What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly.
“I need to see you, darling.” He inhales sharply as he pushes back inside you. “And kiss you.”
His lips connect with yours as he keeps his steady pace. His chest rubs yours, the heat almost unbearable as your tongues fight for dominance. A groan slipping out of his mouth interrupts your kiss, and next thing you know, he’s as deep as he can get, panting against your collarbone.
“Fuck,” he whispers. “I love you.”
“Me too,” you reply, breathless as you run your fingers through his hair. “I love you, too.”
“That wasn’t too much, was it?” He peppers kisses anywhere he can reach—your neck, your chest, your shoulders.
You shake your head. “No, I’m just a little surprised. You can tell me when you want me, you know. You don’t have to wait for me to initiate.”
“It’s been…an interesting week, you know?” He pulls out of you, kissing you softly one last time before he goes into the bathroom to get rid of the condom. When he comes back, he lays down on top of you again. “I came twice.”
You recoil, angling your head to look at him. “Just now?”
“Yep. Came when you were on top of me, too,” he hums in content. “And I’ll have you know that’s never happened to me before.”
“Had someone on top of you or finished twice?”
“The second one.” He pauses. “But I—”
“You don’t have to explain.” You snort. “I have a past, too.”
“That’s good. Don’t wanna move,” he mumbles, pushing his head further into your neck.
You laugh. “Don’t, then.”
Chenle falls asleep fairly quickly, and you kiss his forehead before wiggling out from under him. You grab a new pair of panties and slide them on before grabbing one of his button-downs. It’s much too late for any of the staff to be out and about, so you grab your phone and head to the kitchen. When you look at the screen, the worry settles back in the pit of your stomach. Sujia had texted you forty-five minutes ago, asking you for an update on the situation. After a week, you think Chenle has probably had at least a little bit of time to come to terms with everything. You text her back to let her know Chenle wants to meet her, and then you get your water. You don’t want Chenle to ever feel hurt like that again, but it’s not going to just disappear. You know better than that. But it doesn’t change how seeing him so upset broke you to pieces, too. If you could, you’d ruin anything that even tried.
He was right all along.
Being in love doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It makes you stronger. Gives you a purpose other than what is required of you when you’re from certain bloodlines. From the beginning, you were sure Chenle would never—could never—mean anything to you, and even though he told you otherwise, you had to find out for yourself. You’d start wars for him. You’d do anything to make sure he was okay, because at the end of the day, he truly is the only person to love you without conditions involved. He cares for you not because he has to, not because he’s forced to, but because he wants to. Because he chooses to. You refill the glass for Chenle and head back upstairs. When you open the door, he stirs, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he turns and sits up.
“Where’d you go?” he asks, running his fingers through his hair.
“Water.” You hold the glass up and set it next to him on the bedside table. Standing at the edge of the bed, you look at him, unable to fight the small smile forming.
“What?” He raises an eyebrow at you.
“You’re just…” You chuckle and shake your head. “Shut up. You’re just really cute like this.”
He holds his arm out to you. “Pinch me. I’m pretty sure I’m still dreaming.”
“Oh, you’re hilarious.” You smack at his wrist.
He tugs gently on the bottom hem of the shirt you’re wearing. “I like this on you.”
“It was the first thing I found.” Embarrassment climbs through you. “Sorry, I should’ve asked.”
“What part of that sounded like I wanted you to ask?” He snorts. “You’re always welcome to anything here. You should know that by now. But you’ve been away from me for way too long. C’mere.”
He opens his arms for you, and you chuckle and climb into bed next to him. When he lays on his side, he tugs you to follow suit. You listen to him, staring into his eyes while his thumb rubs on your hip through the white fabric.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
“For what?”
“For trying with me. Not running away. Letting me love you. The list is honestly endless.” He kisses your forehead. “Not to mention I really would’ve fucking lost my mind with all of that stuff last week if you hadn’t been there.”
“Speaking of.” You shuffle closer to him. “She wants to meet you. And I really think you should do it, because at the end of the day, she’s your sister, you know?”
Chenle hesitates, thousands of emotions crossing through his gaze like a storm. “You’re right. You can set it up for whenever, and I’ll be there.”
“I’m sorry this happened, Chenle.” You intertwine your fingers with his. “And I want you to know that, no matter how you’re feeling, you can tell me. I want to help you process.”
“I’ll be okay, darling. Truly. It’ll just take some time getting used to it. I do think it’ll be nice to have a sibling, although she’ll probably hate me for…I don’t know. Being legitimate?”
You laugh, burying your head in his neck. “You’re not taking her money away, so I doubt she’ll hate you.”
He hums quietly, sleep still heavy in his voice as he pulls you flush against him. “I shouldn’t be able to love you this much yet. Slow down, would you?”
“You, of all people, should know that those words do not exist in my vocabulary.” You close your eyes and breathe him in. “I love you, too.”
Sujia sets the day for the upcoming Saturday, and so while the days pass, you witness Chenle slowly lose his mind. He’s not upset at Sujia at all, but he obviously is with his father. It’s an incredibly large secret to keep from your family, so he has every right to those feelings. The entire car ride to her house, he’s squeezing your hand so hard, you fear he’ll cut the circulation off. His leg bounces restlessly, and the frown hasn’t left his face once today. The driver opens the door, and you get out first to at least attempt to lessen your husband’s nerves. You’re unfortunately aware of the straggle of photographers waiting for the two of you. While you’re not sure how they found out about this, you’re not worried about them in the slightest.
Once Chenle’s on his feet, you loop your arm in his. “Be calm. There are cameras, so at least wait until we get inside to freak out.” “Yes, ma’am.” He sends you a sly grin. The two of you approach the door, and you knock. Sujia opens the door quickly, ushering the two of you inside to prevent herself from being seen. Chenle removes his sunglasses, and you take them from him to put in your purse.
“(Y/N), it’s nice to see you again,” Sujia greets you. You nod at her. “Likewise.” “Chenle, you’re a little more intimidating in person.” She clasps her hands together. “Are you guys thirsty? I’ll get some water.” “Actually,” you say, patting Chenle’s arm. “Why don’t you two get your sibling introductions out of the way, and I’ll just play with Yichen. He’s my nephew, too, after all. And I’m pretty sure I scared him last time.” The two of them both flounder for words, neither of them wanting to be without you in a moment like this.
“It’ll be okay. Seriously. Neither of you bite, and Sujia, he’s actually really sweet. He just looks like he hates everything.” “As you can see, my wife is my biggest fan.” He presses his lips into a thin line as he fakes a glare. “Anyway.” You smile at Sujia. “I assume the child is upstairs?” “Yes, but if you want him to not be scared of you, you may want to refer to him by his name or something other than ‘the child.’” She scratches the top of her head.
“God, there is so much I could learn from you.” You separate from Chenle’s side and head for the stairs. Much to your pleasant surprise, your nephew…in-law? is already stomping down the stairs. “Oh.” The kid purses his lips. “You’re back.” “I am.” You nod and scrunch your nose up. “I figured while your mommy talks to my husband, we could…I don’t know. Play a game or something? Do kids do that?” “You’re weird.” Yichen grimaces. “But you’re nicer this time than you were last time. So yeah, we can play with the Switch.” You don’t end up actually playing, but you do watch Yichen’s game with interest. Leaning forward with your elbows on your knees, you analyze the process he uses when he plays every round.
“You’re smart,” you comment. “My mommy tells me that, too.” He nods, seemingly unaffected by your compliment. You pause for a moment. “Does your mom…compliment you a lot?” “Uh, I don’t know.” Yichen doesn’t start the next round, but turns to look at you. “Does your mommy compliment you a lot?” You laugh. “Yeah, no. Definitely not." “Are you—”
“Yichen,” Sujia calls out. “Can you turn the game off please? There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Without a second thought, he turns the Switch off and yells to his mom to tell her he’s ready. He sits next to you on the couch, folding his hands together in his lap. You’ve met a lot of children in your day, but you never imagined one could be so well-behaved. You see the panicked look on Chenle’s face as he walks in. A laugh almost erupts from you, but you hold it back. The man is meeting his nephew for the first time and can’t seem to shake the nerves away. You can only imagine what it’ll be like when he meets his own child. You tense the second that thought crosses your mind.
When?
A legitimate chill runs down your spine, and then you realize how close Chenle has gotten. He squats down in front of Yichen, and Sujia leans against the archway into the kitchen.
“Hey,” Chenle starts. “I’m your uncle. And you’re my nephew.” “Oh, wow.” You really didn’t think it could get any worse than you. “Do you know her?” Yichen nods his head towards you. Chenle smiles. “Yeah. That’s my wife. So that makes her your aunt.” “She said her mommy doesn’t compliment her.” His eyes widen. “Is she a bad person?” Your husband lets out an exaggerated gasp. “No way. She’s the best person I know.” “How?” “Well, she told me about you and your mommy when nobody else did. She’s really, really smart and, c’mon, she’s gorgeous. What else could I want in a wife?” Chenle grins, sending a quick glance your way. “I guess you’re right.” Yichen shrugs. “Do you wanna play a game with me?” “Absolutely.” He nods in response. You stand to give Chenle room, touching his shoulder lightly as you go to stand by Sujia. Leaning on the wall next to her, you quickly realize attempting to take your eyes off of your husband is futile. “He likes kids, huh?” Sujia asks. “He really likes family,” you reply.
“Do you want children?” “Oh.” You chuckle to yourself and fold your arms over your chest. “I’m not sure. But we…don’t really have a choice. We signed a contract and heirs are part of the deal.” “I’m sorry, but I really don’t envy you,” she tells you. “At the end of the day, it’s not that bad, though.” “So, you and Chenle actually love each other.” She hums, tapping her foot. “I feel like that’s rare for people in your positions.” “It is,” you agree. “And honestly, had it been up to me at the beginning, we wouldn’t even be…friendly. We’d be tolerating each other.” "Wow, he fought for you.” Humor laces in Sujia’s voice. “Well, I told him that I’d rather tolerate him than learn one day that I might hate him instead. He was entirely right when he said it wasn’t the hate I was scared of. It was love. Of relying on someone else.” “At least you can rest assured that he would be a good father.”
You don’t respond for a moment, watching Chenle interact with his nephew. They must win something in the game, because they dramatically high five each other. The smile on Chenle’s face is wide, and your heart flutters as a result.
“Yeah.” You fight your own grin. “Yeah, he really will.”
You and Chenle are at Sujia’s for hours. It’s clear the two of them are similar, and thankfully, your husband seems to enjoy having a family member other than the ones who have disappointed him. Yichen warms up to you both, and by the time you’re leaving, he’s hugging you both goodbye and asking when you’ll be back. Chenle is still smiling as he leads you back to the car.
“That went a lot better than you thought, huh?” You ask as he helps you into the backseat.
“I don’t know what I thought.” He shakes his head. “But it’s cool not to be an only child. Even if it’s unconventional, you know? And that little kid is freakin’ cool.”
You lean on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re making the best out of this situation.”
“Actually, do you mind if we make one more stop?”
“Of course not. Where to?”
“I think it’s time I had a conversation with my father.” He pats your leg. “And I could really use your support.”
“Chenle.” You tilt your head at him. “If you don’t know by now that I would follow you anywhere, you’re not as smart as I originally thought. We may have to reconsider this whole thing.”
He sucks in a deep breath through his teeth, holding back his laugh. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that contract is pretty air tight.”
“Damn.” You roll your eyes and kiss his cheek. “You’re so lucky I love you.”
“The luckiest.” He lifts your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles. “Can’t even joke about that one.”
Chenle isn’t even nervous as the two of you approach his father’s office. He grips your hand tightly, but his resolve has never been stronger. Despite him doing this on his own, you feel an odd swell of pride deep in your chest. You’re so proud of the man he’s always been, and how he only ever wants to be better. His father already knows what’s going on the second he sees you both. At that point, Chenle releases your hand and drops his folder on the desk.
“What’s this?” his father inquires.
“A lawsuit,” Chenle replies nonchalantly.
You almost gasp in shock. And while you shouldn’t be enjoying the awkward tinge in the atmosphere, you feel like you need a bag of popcorn right now.
“I’m sorry?” He recoils in shock.
“You seem to forget that when I became CEO, you no longer had any claim to the company’s profits. And if I did my math correctly, which I did, $143,000 a quarter is roughly $572,000 a year, which is a grand total of $2,288,000 from the four years I’ve been seated in the CEO position.”
“Chenle, you have no right—”
“You don’t tell me what I have the right to do, actually.” Chenle buttons up his suit jacket. “So, you’ll be paying me back the money you owe me. That you stole from me to protect your little secret from getting out. But that must really suck, because you actually delivered a handwritten apology letter to Sujia and to your wife and your mistress and me and the employees at the company that’ll be announced in about ten minutes. To the whole world.”
“Your mother cannot know about this. Whatever you’ve done, you reverse it immediately.” The angry expression on his face does nothing but make Chenle grin.
“Your secret’s out, Dad. Crazy how you had two children and never learned how to be an actual father.” Chenle brushes himself out and points at the folder on the desk. “I’d read that. You might wanna think twice before fighting it.”
“You’ll understand one day,” his father replies. “There’s more to life than marriage, and it’s only a matter of time before you—”
“I will never be like you.” The smile immediately falls from his face. “I love my wife, and I’m not a fucking coward. I don’t need a second family because the first one wasn’t good enough for me. This is the last time you’ll hear from me. And you won’t be receiving any money from my company again. I hope you’re happy with yourself.”
Your heart pounds in your chest, your lips parted in shock as you realize what’s happening. Your husband turns his back on his father, gently holds out his hand to you, and shoots one last ice cold glare over his shoulder as he leads you out of the room.
As soon as the door shuts behind you, you laugh in disbelief. “Chenle, holy shit.”
“Dude, my adrenaline is fucking crazy right now.” He chuckles and blows out a deep breath. “That was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done in my life.”
“This might be terrible to say, but I am…so attracted to you right now.” You blush as you squeeze his arm.
“So, nothing but good things today.” He helps you into the car.
Once he shuts the door behind him, you climb onto his lap and kiss him. He groans in surprise, his hands immediately finding their place on your ass.
“What? You like when I put people in their places?” he teases you, leaning forward to barely brush his lips on yours.
“There were a lot of things I liked from today.” You unbutton the first button on his shirt. “It was…very hot of you to absolutely destroy a man like that. You held your ground and…I don’t know. The tone of your voice was sexy.”
“My God, am I learning things about you today.”
“If it helps you, I’m also learning things about myself, so.”
“Mm, please tell me what else you’ve got hidden up your sleeve.” He squeezes your ass gently, pushing you closer so you feel him hardening in his pants.
“I think…we should throw every single condom away. Permanently. We’ll have an endless amount of babies for you to play games with. Of course, you’ll also have to tell them I’m gorgeous, but—”
“You’re serious.” His jaw drops, hope sparking behind his eyes. “Darling, you better not be joking about something like that.”
You shake your head. “I’m not joking. You were on to something when you said you wanted everything. A real life, a real love, a real family. Why don’t we have it all?”
“Right now? You want kids now?”
“If we’re gonna have twenty, we really have to start now, otherwise I’m gonna be too old—”
He cuts you off with an earth-shattering kiss as he pulls you flush against him. His fingers tangle in your hair, and you giggle into his mouth. The only thing that separates the two of you is the door opening.You gasp and climb off his lap, clearing your throat and fanning your cheeks from the embarrassment of getting caught. Your husband grips your hand and pulls you towards the house, and you can’t stop the profuse laughter escaping you as he apparently decides you’re walking too slowly and hoists you over his shoulder.
“Oh my God, Chenle, put me down.” You can barely speak through your laughs.
He only listens to you once the two of you are inside and he’s able to set you on the kitchen island.
“If you’re doubting it even a little bit, darling, you’d better tell me now.” He kisses down your neck. “Because I don’t care how fucking long it takes, we’re not stopping tonight until I get you pregnant.”
“You’re crazy.” You push his shoulder. “You have no way of knowing if you’ll—”
“Baby, don’t ruin my fun. Tell me if you really want this.”
“I do, Chenle.” You cup his cheeks, smiling at him. “I want it with you. They all need to look like you. I want at least one boy and one girl, and they’ll be best friends because—”
He kisses you again, groaning as he slides his hand beneath the skirt of your dress. “Keep talking.”
“Um, I just really think you’d be a good dad,” you say, lifting your hips so he can pull your panties down. “And, uh, you’ve proven how much family means to you, so it makes me feel safe. I—shit.”
He presses two fingers to your clit, and your body jolts. Chuckling, he traces along your pulse with his lips. “How are you so wet already?”
“Well.” You let out another breathless laugh as you grind your hips to match his pace. “It so helps that my husband is the hottest fucking man in this universe.”
“You think so highly of me,” he hums, teeth grazing your ear lobe.
“You’re cruel for this, you know.” You rock upward, and your head lolls forward. “Teasing after you clearly feel how badly I want you is just…so rude.”
“I’m sorry, baby. Please forgive me.” He moves down to your entrance and thrusts two of his fingers inside you.
You cry out, holding onto his shoulders. With a frustrated groan, you push his jacket off of him. He curls his fingers and pumps faster, thumb returning to your clit.
“Fuck, Chenle, wait.” You smack at his wrist. Even though you don’t want him to stop, you want more. He stops immediately, pulling back to look at you.
“What? Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay.” You kiss him hard. “I need you inside me right fucking now.”
“First of all, you just scared me.” He tsks as he unbuttons his pants. “You need my cock so bad you can’t fucking take what I give you?”
Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing. You shudder at his tone, shuffling closer to the edge of the counter. He pushes his pants and boxers down to the middle of his thighs, and your mouth waters at the sight of him. He’s hard, tip leaking precum as he spreads your legs further. The fabric of your skirt prevents him from having enough room, and the dark look in his eyes sends another burst of wetness to your core.
“Love how these skirts look on you but fucking hate how I can’t fuck you in it.” He taps your hip, and you lift yourself up so he can unzip it and tug it down quickly.
You barely even pay attention to what his doing when he pulls your ankles up to the edge of the counter and spreads your thighs apart until they begin to ache.
“Now, isn’t that a fucking view.” He wets his lips as he wraps his fingers around his cock. Thrusting into his fist a couple times, he uses his other hand to tease your clit.
“Chenle, please.” You gasp, tugging him closer.
“You’re so fucking wet, baby, I can see it.” He drags his tip along your entrance, pushing in just enough to watch the head of his cock stretch you open. He’s entranced by the way you take him so easily, his eyes focused on where the two of you connect.
Your pleasure intensifies simply by watching him so drunk on you, just appreciating the way you take him. You feel every vein in your body buzzing, and you can’t help it but to push your hand between your legs and rub your throbbing bud while he’s entranced.
“You have no fucking patience,” he hisses, grabbing your wrist and pushing it away. You whine at the loss, but his glare stops you. “I’m trying to enjoy my wife’s pussy, but she’s just so fucking needy, isn’t she?”
“Oh, God.” You grip onto the edge of the counter.
“Watch how easily you take me.” He flicks your clit. “Look.”
You let your gaze travel downward until you see his cock positioned outside your hole. Instantly, the room gets much hotter. You struggle to breathe, anticipating the stretch he gives you. His tip is covered in your arousal, but the rest of his cock has yet to feel you.
“Fuck me, Chenle,” you mutter almost incoherently. “I wanna watch.”
He finally obliges, nudging the tip between your folds again before sinking inside. He moves so slowly, you want to cry. You need more, and the stretch wreaks havoc on you when you’re watching. Every time he’d fill you up another inch, he’d pull out until his tip is barely caught inside you, and then sink in just one more inch. You’re losing your fucking mind, but you can’t take your eyes away from where he pleasures you. Finally, he bottoms out, the position of your thighs allowing him to press all the way against you, his pelvis hitting your overly sensitive clit.
“Are you ready?” he asks. “I need to fuck you.”
“You know I’m ready,” you reply, dazed from the pleasure of him seated so deeply in you.
He starts a steady pace, both of you still staring at the way you stretch to accommodate him.
“You feel so fucking good like this, darling.” He thrusts harder. “Nothing between us this time.”
You cry out when his tip hits your cervix. Your legs start to shake from how far they’re spread, but all you’re focusing on is the way your arousal shines on his cock when he’s pulling out of you. You feel every inch of him, and the way he rubs against your walls is so different without the condom. You’re fucking delirious, and every time he presses all the way inside you, the pressure on your clit has you getting closer and closer.
“You’re squeezing me so tight, baby,” he groans, moving his hand down between the two of you quickly. His thumb glides over your most sensitive area, and you can no longer hold back your sounds.
“Fuck,” you cry out, legs shaking as your orgasm lingers so, so close.
“Cum for me.” He slams into you. “Not gonna fill you up ‘til you cum, darling.”
You tip and tilt over the edge, convulsing as your high hits you hard. Chenle keeps rubbing you, thrusts picking up speed as he fucks you through your euphoria. He crashes his lips to yours as he spurts inside you, covering your inner walls with white as he pants. Your whole body shakes as you hold onto him tightly. Both of you are covered in sweat, but it does little to bother either of you.
“How does it keep getting better?” you ask. “You have that effect on me.” He shrugs, chuckling as he guides your legs around his waist. “And I wasn’t kidding. We’re not done yet.” “My insides are gonna be mush.” “What if I’m gentle next time?” He kisses along your neck. “If I fuck you with your legs up, apparently it’s more likely to happen that way.” “Insatiable.” You pull back to kiss his lips. “You’re lucky I am, too. Take me upstairs.”
You don’t make it all the way upstairs. Not at first. He decides he has to take you on the couch, up against the wall next to the staircase, the desk in his office, and then your bed. By the end of the night, you’re absolutely exhausted, but you’ve never felt so fucking good in your life. And for someone who thought you could never have it all, you realize just how damn close you are to having a perfect life when you have Chenle by your side.
#nct dream#chenle#nct#nct dream smut#lowkeyjaemle#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct smut#chenle smut#chenle au#nct au#nct dream au#kpop au#kpop x reader#kpop scenario#kpop imagine#nct dream x reader#nct dream x y/n#nct dream chenle#zhong chenle
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you're losing me.
navigation: how reader broke her ankle
pairing: joel miller x fem!reader
word count: ~4.2k words
summary: at one point, you think you've found something with joel. a moment of peace, a fragment of joy. now, you're not so sure.
warnings: this is an explicit fic, minors DO NOT INTERACT! hurt/comfort fic, LOTS of angst i'msosorry, implied age gap (somewhat mentioned here and there), a play on the miscommunication trope with an uncommunicative joel, angsty make up sex, explicit p-in-v sex, oral sex (f receiving), anal sex, aftercare, occurs somewhere after the events of season 1.
a/n: i'm incredibly thankful for all the love this fledgeling little hedonist got from such a community. thank you so so much for reading!
likes, comments, and reblogs much appreciated! please let me know if you have any requests, just shoot an ask and i'm certain to see it!
Life, as you imagined it in the days that came after, was much simpler before you and Joel arrived in Jackson. It was a description you settled on, long after you’ve combed through your mind’s vocabulary, through the haze and vertigo of heartbreak. Easier was simply a lie. Nothing was nice nor easy in those autocracies from the QZs. When you look back to those days, painted only in broad strokes of inhumane bloodshed and secret dealings in the dark, he remains, nevertheless, at the center of the shell of empires you had once deemed eternal. Your gruff, quiet Joel, with bloodstained fists and sharp eyes, always strong to rage battle with the days and emerge victorious.
Perhaps life was easier pre-Jackson because you and Joel never truly defined what you had back then. You lived next door to him. You suggested he hid his contraband with you because, God, why would they ever search there? You still try and figure out when the fucking started. When you stopped sleeping in your bed and started waking up in his. Whenever it was, shortly thereafter, you followed him in his dealings, tried to look for some damn car battery that seemed to excite him so much.
You remember waking up at dawn one morning, drenched in sweat as the shadows receded in your mind, his hand on your shoulder as his eyes searched yours. You don’t remember the nightmare, you remember the panic in his eyes. “You good, darlin’?” You’d nod and watch him open a window. It was autumn, you remembered, and the breeze cooled your burning skin.
“Who’s the guy I’m meeting today?” you tried to ask, sitting up in his bed and watching the way his eyes seemed to look at anywhere but you. You tried to ignore the subtle way his brows furrowed, the grinding of his jaw. “Talk me over the plan again.” When he returned to you, his hands pull you down by your legs, spreading you wide open as his mouth kisses the questions out of your mouth.
“We’re not talkin’ ‘bout business when I can still have you for a few hours, sweetheart.”
So he’d take you, with your neck stinging from razor burn, legs thrown over his shoulders, his shirt which you wore pushed up while he bites your nipples as his hard cock dives into you in one languid thrust, moans reverberating from the both of you at the feeling.
When Joel fucks, he does so with the candour of a greedy child in a candy shoppe. He takes whatever he can get. You still remember the aftermath of when he first fucked you, one that broke a few years of celibacy, according to the man himself. You remembered the teeth marks, the broken skin, burst capillaries, and fingerprints imprinted wherever he felt the need to. He had been bashful, then, muttering about how he didn’t mean to be so rough. You remembered laughing and pressing his fingers to your aching cunt, smiling at him. You were still wet. He hardens there and then.
Even when you were neck deep in each other’s affections, he never quite lost that eagerness. You remembered that morning because you remember gushing against his cock. You remembered it because it was the morning you realised it was never like this with anyone else. Actually, you realised as his hips stutter and the familiar warmth of his spend fills you, since Joel, there had never been anyone else.
Perhaps everything was simpler then, when you look back at it. You’d fuck, wash up, go do your jobs for some rations. Sometimes he’d nod at you from across the street, and you wouldn’t see him again until he knocks on your door at night, taking you by the hand and pulling you into the night. You always stood in his corner, kicking and punching with so much vigor that he’d chuckle and mutter something about the “youth, nowadays”. He’d wash the blood from your hands, wrap you up in bandages, and tell you to not be so reckless next time. You never really listened.
Sometimes, when an exchange ends early, he’ll take you to some empty building, tell you about some renovation of one decade or another. You’d laugh and climb over him, chasing to get a taste of his cock in your mouth. You never addressed the elephant in the room, never asked what you meant to him.
It was the unspoken rule, however, that there was never going to be anything that came between the two of you. By hell or high water. He walked you home every night you did your business, even if he still had things to do. He never forgot to hand you a share of meat whenever it came his way, sometimes finding you wherever you were stationed that day just to slip it in your hands without speaking.
It was the same rule that prevailed when he woke you one night, telling you he’s leaving. You packed a bag, shook hands with the kid he was with, and followed.
No questions asked. Through hell and high water.
–
Somewhere between those days and arriving in Jackson, he does start talking more. You learn about Sarah, the worries he tries not to tell anyone, the pain in his bones.
In easy silences while the kid slept and vulnerability left you both awake, isolation made you complacent, vulnerable. It made you believe something good still existed in this world. It made you believe you and Joel could survive unscathed from the same love that had burnt others.
“Stay with me,” he whispers in the cradle of darkness, hand on the trigger as he watches you pace back and forth, trying to tire yourself enough. You look at him, blinking momentarily as you try to comprehend as to whether or not you imagined the words from his mouth. “When we get out of here–if we get out of here–promise me you’ll stay with me.”
Of course you will. That was how you ended up in Jackson, too.
Looking back, when you try and trace everything back to a singular point in space and time when the end of all things began, it began when you stand in stunned silence, watching what seemed to be a sanctuary in the midst of mortal damnation. Laughing children, playing, men lifting, hammering, building. People chattering in the street. The tipping point, however, was none of that. The tipping point was Joel recognising his brother from the crowd and embracing him with a smile you had never seen on your face before.
For a moment, you feel guilt— you knew how long Joel had wanted to see Tommy. You knew, too, that this had been everything he had worked towards for. It warms you, to finally know Joel was still human, after all. At least for a moment. Then the uncomfortable thoughts trickle in.
Perhaps, you thought once in a microsecond, perhaps you just weren't enough for him to be that open with you.
Just like that, the isolated bubble from which you had adored, and perhaps (definitely) even loved Joel, dissolves, leaving you exposed, vulnerable, and somewhat alone in a sea of people. You supposed Ellie felt it too, from the way she held on to your arm, worrying you’ll disappear too.
“I’m here, kid,” you murmur as you pretend not to see. “You’re all good.”
Even when your little group left and came back from the Fireflies, even when Joel pulls you out of a burning building and kills men for you, you can’t shake off the feeling. Can’t shake the knowledge that you weren’t as important to him. Not even a little, not even at all. You swallow it whenever he pushes aside your underwear and lets you take his fingers. You ignore that itching feeling when you take him for yourself, seating yourself on his lap and fucking him needingly, kissing him as if his lips were everything you needed, chasing your orgasms with the same greed you had in those early days.
Sometimes, you couldn’t stop it.
“Tell me you want me, Joel,” you whisper, fingers tangled in his hair, tugging, pulling, teeth gnashing.
“‘Course I fuckin’ want you, peach. This fuckin’ cunt is all mine.” He’d flip you over, lay you on your stomach, fucking up into you as your back arches and your eyes roll back in the sweet symphony of skin on skin on skin. “No one else knows how to even make you feel as good as I do.” His fingers would reach down. Thumb and forefinger. Pinching your clit until a squeal escapes you.
“Yours, Joel.” Your gasps, his grunts, the fleeting ache in your chest as these moments become less frequent, turning few and far in between. “Yours, yours, yours.”
–
It all comes to a head one evening, over some stupid argument. Even now, when all is said and done, you can’t seem to remember the trigger that set things off. When you think of that night, only a fragment of the conversation comes to mind.
“The truth is, Joel, I just don’t know what we are,” you had been saying, separating from him like shrapnel. “I used to stupidly think that maybe you wanted me to stay because you were working up some fucking courage to do something about us.” He looks at you wide-eyed, pupils blown. You could hear his thoughts from that distance. Where was all this coming from?
“It never mattered t’you before,” he muttered, leaning against the wooden table as his eyes bore down on you. A beat drops, and he is striding towards you, taking your shoulders in his gruff hands as his tired gaze met yours. ”I don’t understand, why the fuck are you tellin’ me this now?”
I know you don’t. I never asked you to.
For a moment, you struggled in his arms. The feeling of his fingers against your skin was too much. It felt too close, too intimate, too little, and nothing all at once. You whine, trying to avoid his gaze and control your tongue before it is you who eventually did ruin things.
Just tell me. What’s in that head of yours?
“Because you never touch me anymore!” Your small fists, his broad chest, hitting what you could as you finally sob and tear yourself away from me. “I’m glad for you, I really am. But you barely even look at me anymore!” When you did free yourself, your feet take you backwards by a few steps, just enough to see the quirk of his lips at your confession. “But God, it makes me feel so fucking small- like I’ve turned into some nagging bitch, the shrew at home.” You hiccup once, twice. You see him about to speak and you jump in again. “It’s like you found your life and I never had a place in it, so you forgot me.”
The last confession lay on your lips, escaping before you could stop it. “Like I was never enough for you, Joel.”
Your back hits the wall as you look him in the eye, eyes blurred from the onslaught of tears that finally stop you. “I have always stood by your side, I’ve followed you blindly across this fucking wasteland. I never asked for anything, never wanted anything but you, and yet…” You wait for Joel. As you always have. You wait for him to say something. Anything that might finally end your misery. When he doesn’t, you wait for him to do something.
You sigh. “I… I lo-”
“I’ve had enough of this,” he finally says, catching you off-guard as he moves away, grabbing his coat as he shakes his head. “Tommy’s waiting for me.” With that, he leaves. The pit in your stomach swallows you whole, remaining there, in the strange hallways of your memory, as the moment you finally understood the misery that walked hand in hand with love.
–
That was how you ended up with the singular backpack of your things, moving across all of Jackson and putting the entire commune between the two of you, and moving into the small apartment near the shops. You know the jobs he works, asked (almost begged, actually) for Maria to keep her as far away from him as remotely possible. And you did so before he returned from patrolling– some two day affair beyond the gates.
The first night proved impossible. In the darkness, you heard the arms of your watch ticking by as time moves ever so slowly. Without noticing it, you counted the minutes before he and Tommy should be back. You tried not to wonder if he ever thought of you on jobs like this. When all there is to kill is time. Did he ever touch himself in the darkness? Did he ever think of you touching yourself wherever you lay, too?
Then you remember his dining room. “I’ve had enough of this.” No. You know he wasn’t thinking of you.
You fuck yourself with your fingers until your wrist aches from the effort; and still yet, nothing. You cannot reach the places he does. Your hands too soft to mimic the sensation of his calloused fingers forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you. The sleep that comes, therefore, is uneasy,
You dream of him, lying beside you in the bed you shared back in the QZ, his gruff hum signalling he was awake. “You’re not happy, are you?” he whispers, and you look to him, hands reaching in the darkness.
“Of course not,” you whisper. "I’m in love with you and you don’t even want to see me.”
–
Joel sees the empty house first before he heard the news. It is only in your absence that he finally understood how empty his home was without you.
Without the books on the coffee table. Without the flowers you picked yourself. The bathroom felt barren without your little luxuries– the lotion you had found back on the road, the smell of your shampoo long evaporated from the room. His bed, most of all, felt inhuman without the shape of your frame imprinted on it.
Ellie rushed in when he stood in the living room, looking over in silence. “What the fuck happened, man? I tried to stop her but she was crying, all over the place. I don’t even fucking know how she left the place so pristine the way she was running around-”
“Where is she, kid?”
–
When he finally does see you, you look far worse off than he is. The apartment Maria pointed him to is nice, it’s warm. Bright, even. As if anywhere you go turns into a sanctuary. You’re reading when he sees you. With your back turned to him, you roll your shoulders in a way that tells him you slept wrong. If you even slept at all. The slight tilt in your gait tells him you overworked yourself and your ankle is giving you hell for it.
He leans against the doorway until eventually, he finds the strength to speak. “So you don’t even say goodbye? Some people would think it’s just good manners.” You turn around just enough for him to see the swooping shades of exhaustion beneath your eyes, tinged by the reddening of your nose, your sore eyes. You had just been crying. He could tell, even when no traces of tears are left on your skin.
Now, he waits for you. Attempts to weed out the silence as if it could tell him something.
“Ellie said you cleaned up. Thanks for that, darlin’.” He sighs, moving closer in an attempt to bridge the gap between the two of you. He doesn’t notice the way you tense, the way you prepare yourself to flee. “I found somethin’ for you, It’s out-”
“Just stop it, Joel.” He looks to you, sees the way the tears bead in your eyes before you look away, rising from your seat as you allow a shaky breath. “You said you had enough and I’m- I wanted to respect that.” He tries to hold you and your arms fly out, pushing him away before he gets too close, shaking your head. “But I can’t do it when you’re always around.”
He calls your name, and it stops you in your tracks. He says it again, and you realize why. He says your name with so much emotion, the teeth-gritting ferocity of the riptide. “It was never you that I had enough of. I can never have enough of you-” When you look at him, his brows furrow, eyes soften, reaching for you, hands on your wrists as he slowly brings you toward him. He calls your name, and for a moment, you feel as you did back in the old days of the small rooms in the QZ. You remember the whistling of the wind between the window shutters, white noise that soothed you to sleep.
His confession comes spilling forth in an uncontrollable gush. “I never wanted to make you go, peach,’ he murmurs, almost incomprehensible, rough hands pulling you against his chest as he finally breathes in that familiar scent of your hair. He smells of snow and pine–the same smell of the soap you bought for him last week. “I don’t know how to do this… to feel–” His thumbs cup your cheek as your gaze returns to his own tear-filled face. “Losing you is like cutting my fingers off, sweetheart, I can’t bear it.”
He kisses you, and you feel the desperation of a man starved. He doesn’t stop, does not want to stop. If this was a dream, he thinks, he’d rather consume you than wake up somewhere without the warmth of your skin on his. You kiss him, too, and it’s nothing like what you had before. When you kiss him in that quiet little apartment, it’s wanton, messy, your tears melting into his own, your whines swallowed and consumed before you can even actuate them. You only break apart when you feel his lips move to your cheek, his beard rubbing against you as you sniffle and tug him closer by the loops of his belt.
Joel continues to speak. In disjointed whispers, murmurings you try and decode. “Always wanted you to stay, darlin’. Always dreamt of you, always-”
“I thought you dreamt of ten-month summers,” you manage to tease between tears, catching his lips as his arms lift you, pressing you to the nearest wall to wrap your legs around his waist, thrusting his clothed cock against you. You remembered that dream particularly because it had been a miserable winter, one that he confessed to have felt in his very bones. How he grumbled then, in the silences when he thought you wouldn’t hear.
“Even with that summer, without you there, I don’t fuckin’ need it, sugar.”
You both make up that afternoon, slowly, lovingly, with him begging you to stay as he pushes your bottoms off and you promising that you will. The burning stretch of his girth makes you tear up again, just as he cups your face and soothes you through it. “Doin’ so good for me, baby. Let me make it up to you…” You let him do many things. You let him take you again. You let him regain control over himself again.
Oftentimes you wonder if uncertainty struck fear into him. Perhaps it was why he had always kept himself at an arm’s distance, even when you slept in his bed and wore his shirts. Perhaps that was why he had never allowed himself to feel. Never allowed himself to name that love he had for you.
“I love you, Joel.” The whisper comes between moans as his lips mark your neck in rough kisses, taking you again as he had taken you everytime. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” He groans at the sound of your promises, a low guttural sound, just as his lips nip at the skin of your neck, making you whine and squeal against him.
“I fuckin’ love you, peach,” he finally manages to say, hips pistoning in and out of your weeping cunt as he makes you look at him. “I could never have enough of you… fuck!” He doesn’t care if the whole of Jackson hears you, sees the two of you locked in this embrace. As long as he had you, he knows, nothing else mattered. Gently, he lets you down to turn you around, manipulating your hips as your hands keep you balanced to the wall. He sinks so easily to his knees, tongue swiping from your clit, your weeping hole, your perineum, and even up to your ass, spreading your wetness and his precome with a low chuckle. “Tell me you need me, darlin’, come on.”
You do tell him. “I need you, sir, please,” you whisper, with such gentleness that he chuckles. He loved the way your begging sounded, the way you called him sir, like you did in those shy beginnings when you could barely look him in the eye. Loved the way you whine and try to reach down to touch yourself, only for him to tsk in warning, your hand immediately returning to the wall. “Please let me cum, sir, I just want you, please!”
Finally, he indulges you. His tongue fucking you, hands spreading your asscheeks, beard digging into your skin and his nose, his nose, just teasing your asshole enough to make you clench down in expectation. He does not stop, does not pause even when you buck against him, clenching your teeth as you feel his tongue reach there, that point that makes you fucking feral, bucking until he pushes you off the edge, and continues to push you over the edge, knees weakening and trembling in the aftermath of pleasure. You thank him, louder than you’ve ever thanked any deity for each day of survival. If you were honest, you didn’t care so much about religion, about believing. Not when everything you ever believed in knelt before you, asking you if you’d let him take your ass.
You nod breathlessly, pressing your cheek against the cool wallpaper. “It’s yours, sir. It’s all yours, and you know it.”
He smirks, kissing the small of your back. His perfect, willing girl.
He slowly draws you into it, knows you’ve never done anything like this. He starts with his tongue, helping you relax around him, helping you relax when you take one finger, then another. You had never felt so empty and yet so full at the same time. You feel the walls of your cunt stretched out over nothing, your fingers digging into the plaster as he finally stands, lips pressing kisses and assurances into your shoulders. And there, just there- you feel the head of his cock entering you, your body welcoming him so willingly, without much effort nor pain.
He fucks you with renewed vigor, your moans intermingling as his hands trail on separate directions. His left hand trails from your neck, to your chest, and quickly to your nipples, pinching, tugging, His right trails from your stomach to your wanton clit, rubbing concentric circles softly and gently prolonging your pleasure to match up with his stamina. Even as he batters your walls, his lips are so gently, praising you and kissing you. “Of course I fuckin’ love you, sugar. Always fuckin’ did.”
It’s the confession, you would think later on, that pushes the both of you over the edge. You beg him to let you, and he chuckles at how needy and willing you are in his hands. “Together, baby, yeah? Come on, be a good girl and come with me.” HIs fingers intensify his efforts, so do his cock, and it’s even more easier, You feel yourself gush at nothing, his hands the only thing holding you up now as he finds his high, rolling off with you, fucking his spend deep within your ass. “Fuck, yeah. Just like that, princess. Fuck!”
You cry for him and cum even harder, clenching and collapsing, saved only by his trembling frame. It is then that you feel his teeth biting down against your skin, guttural groans escaping and reverberating against your sweat-slick skin. You call for him, hand reaching back to tug against his hair, giving him the consent to sink his teeth deeper against your flesh.
You exchange words of love, you kiss slowly, gently. Joel carries you gently to the small cot you had been resting on, his gaze scolding you for putting your body through this uncomfortable surface every night. You whine when he leaves you, but he smiles. “I’m not goin’ anywhere again, sugar. Promise.”
He makes good on that promise, returning with something to wipe you clean, slowly, gently, not wanting to make it any worse for you. He praises you, nonetheless. So good f’me, baby. My perfect girl.
You fall asleep, slowly, gently, to the same words, your hand on his, his mouth on your cheek, kissing you all over. It’s the most peace you ever felt in a long time.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#the last of us hbo#the last of us fanfiction
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✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes✦
(Bros I'm so sorry, I've had the biggest fucking writer's block. I'm hoping some silly lil meme posts will make up for it until I can write something substantial, I'msosorry-)
Y/N: Some of us, I don’t wanna name names, give me a headache when they speak and its- Soap: Is it me?? Y/N: No. Graves: Is it me? Y/N: …it’s not Soap- --
Price: I’m gonna make you a soup. Gaz, delirious with the flu: I don’t wanna be a soup, Captain… Price: …right, how about I give you soup instead? Gaz: That’d be nicer. Price: Right. --
Soap: What the fuck knuckles is this? Valeria: *holding her hyper femme gf in her lap* She’s my girlfriend you intolerant shit. Soap: Whoa! Pump the hate brakes Fox & friends. I’m just surprised anyone would date you. Especially Pinkie Pie from My Little Pony. Y/N, on Valeria’s lap: You know that cartoon? Soap: No comment. Ghost: No, I think you should comment more, Johnny. Soap: NO. COMMENT. Moving on! Gaz: We’re gonna circle back to that. --
Graves: I think the term you’re searching for is ‘current captain’. Ghost: The words I’m searching for, I can’t say. Because there’s a rookie *motions to Soap* present. Soap: No no, say it. I can handle it. Ghost: You sure? Soap: Absolutely, L.T. Ghost: *looks at Graves* Fucking donkey lookin’ muppet bitch. Soap: Brutal blow, sir. Well done. --
Y/N: *comes in* Hey, Gaz, how old is your captain? Gaz: What? Y/N: No not like that…it is, it is like that. How old is he? I came into base, he asked if I needed anything to eat. I said ‘eat what’? Gaz: Okay, first of all, put my plate down and stop hitting on my captain! Y/N: Don’t get mad at me! I don’t even wanna be here. Y’all the ones that want me to be here. --
NPC: Ohhh if I weren’t a lady, I’d deck you! Fem!Y/N: Oh please. Try it and I’d have you on your back so fast you’d think you’re on a date. Ghost: *spits tea* Price, covered in tea: That was so unnecessary- --
Ghost: Mmph. Y/N: Dark room, avoidant, you seem tired despite sleeping for awhile…you wanna try and get out in the sun or do you just need to be in the sadness dungeon? Ghost: *holds up two fingers* Y/N: Would you like some tea for the sadness dungeon? Ghost: …Mhm. Y/N: Tea for the sad dragon coming up! Ghost: Mmph. (Aka “thank you”) Y/N: No problem! --
Y/N: Ya know sometimes there’s times in life where you just have to sit back and go, “ya know what? I’m proud of myself.” Gaz: Is this one of those times? Y/N: No- Soap: *wheeze* --
(Shibari reference)
Price: …alright, when I said we needed to restrain him in a way that ensured he couldn’t get out. This is not- Gaz: These are not military knots. Y/N: No, they aren’t. You all suggested knots that he would know how to get out of. You told me to get rid of that possibility. So, I did. Soap: He is tied…to the ceiling. Ghost: You kinky bitch. Y/N: *shrug* Price: Where did you even learn this? Y/N: That is for me and my daddy issues to know, sir. Don’t worry about it. Just wake him up so we can start interrogating him.
-
Graves: We can rule the world! Ghost: *turns to leave* Graves:: *watches him pull out something of Y/N’s* Graves: WH-YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO FUCK MY WIFE Graves: GHOST. G H O S T Ghost: *leaves* --
Graves: Let me log into Twitter- WAIT, IS THAT GHOST’S DICK!?! Ghost: I fucked your wife. Graves: AGGHHHHHH- --
Medic!Y/N: Don’t torture yourself Ghost. *snips bandage* Medic!Y/N: That’s my job.~ Ghost, internally: Stayfocusedwecannot- --
Price: We’re you listening to me at all? Y/N: No I was fantasizing about beard burn. Price: Pardon? Y/N: Huh? --
Ghost: He died of natural causes. Gaz: You pushed him off the roof. Ghost: Gravity is natural. --
Y/N: Nuh Uh, no. I’m not doing it. I have self respect, and I will not stoop so low as to- Gaz: *brings out 100£.* Y/N: -oooooo*takes money* I’ll have it done in an hour. --
Soap, looking at Konig: That man is a tree. Y/N: Then I'm a fucking squirrel. Soap: On the hunt for nuts then? Y/N: Famished for them. Ghost: Why do I sit with you two...
#call of duty#simon riley#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#john mactavish#konig#cod konig#john price#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#gaz mw2#phillip graves#valeria el sin nombre garza#incorrect cod quotes#incorrect quotes#modern warfare 2 x reader#modern warfare
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Hello everypony, it's Genloss Ranboo with ponytail :D
Ponytail hole on the box too, how nice ^_^
(I'msosorry, lol)
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.........................I have a knife I can stab you with.
The bear is stalking me. -.-
#((i'msosorry he really doesn't like this bear lol#((nagito's extreme acts of violence towards monokuma plushies is so funny to me but let me know if I go too far
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goodenvin guys gals n' nonbinary pals I'm heavily sleep deprived but have a wip Phighting oc !! ;^
heres just a basic idea,, he's a Darkheart decedent (basically if Darkheart gave up his gear to the funny fountain) and this creatur came out heheh he's based off of a monochrome battle axe i stumbled upon 💥💥
the axe in question ^^^
nownow, I'll do my best to get out a full ref sheet but it might take a bit cause HS PHREAKING FINALS ARE COMING UP WOOHOO/NEG
and to. add on, I feel horrendously nauseous from over - workin' myself so . I'msosorry Tumblr ily.
#phighting fanart#phighting roblox#phighting!#phighting#phighting oc#phighting art#floof try to post consistently challenge (impossible)#I love him sm he's my new favorite child <3#shhh don't tell the others .......#floof scribbles
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...........
didIdosomethingwrong-
I'msosorry-
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Thank you to everyone who sent in requests !!
since there's a lot of them, i may not answer everything... I'mSoSorry..
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So this is an official panel of the Twilight Princess manga, and you know what I thought when I first saw this?
I'msosorry-
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Ooo, how about drawing them both in a goth style? Any kind of goth! ^^
- @dreadedender
DAY 37
i think i accidentally went into more emo territory, i'm not really educated on goth fashion i'msosorry
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You're awesome too 💜 anon :D
Though you are impulsive, I'll get ice for your ankle
Also white text, whenever you can get that info to us we'd appreciate it.
-Mystery guest
I'msosorry.
I-
Imust'vegottenridofthatfootage... Ican'tfindit.
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Is It Over Now? [ZCL/PJS] (M)
Description: Your relationship with Chenle is nothing but fight after fight. Amidst the toxicity, infidelity comes into play--except you're determined to one up him...but is it ever truly over?
A/N: this is inspired by Taylor Swift's Is It Over Now? and I highly recommend listening to it because omg...but also...keep in mind this poll and this poll determined the trajectory of this fic LOL
Genre: Smut/Angst
Content Warnings: This is very dirty idk y'all i'msosorry...but basically content warnings are infidelity (both reader & chenle, explicit on reader's part), some very crazy arguments (there are no physical fights but these can be triggering), explicit, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, use of pet names: baby, pretty girl, slut, whore (once maybe), and any variation of those. Buckle up y'all, this one is kinda crazy. Also kinda open ended sawry
Word Count: 11,198
Taglist: @nominsgirl @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @chezziy
Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!Reader | Park Jisung x fem!Reader
Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)
You know exactly where everything went wrong.
It’s what led you to the current situation you’re in—on top of one of your boyfriend’s closest friends with his hands all over you. Anger burns in your bones, and if you were capable of it any longer, you’d be crushed to dust at this point.
The roll of your hips causes a curse to fall from Jisung’s mouth. He grips your ass, the rough fabric of your jeans catching on his nails. The man under you is just as pissed as you are, and some sick form of revenge clouds both of your brains. He sinks his teeth into your bottom and tugs. If you’d felt at all guilty when you started this, it’s long gone now.
At least you and Jisung won’t be caught together in public.
“He’s a fucking idiot,” Jisung hisses under his breath as you continue to grind on him.
You chuckle. “I know. It’s not the fucking first time either.”
He pulls away from you, eyebrows furrowed as he looks at you. The passion has all but melted from his face, but both of you are left panting.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks.
“I thought you knew.” The last thing you wanted was for this to be an emotional encounter, and if you let yourself think of how you trusted your boyfriend again after the first time he cheated, resentment will turn to pain. No. You fucking refuse.
“I would’ve told you,” Jisung continues, hand sliding up from your ass to the small of your back. “You really think I would’ve kept that from you?”
“All due respect, Jisung, but I’m not looking for a heart-to-heart right now.”
His jaw tightens, and the care resounds in his eyes, but he nods and reaches up to grip the back of your neck. He kisses you harder this time, his tongue dancing with yours as he starts unbuttoning your shirt. The fabric is silky against your skin, and feeling him so close to you has your fragmented heart racing in your chest and chills spiraling down your spine.
“Hurry up,” you tell him. “He’ll be home soon.”
In response, he tugs instead, and the remaining buttons pop open before he pushes your blouse off your shoulders. You have a clear view of the door this way, where you and Jisung sit at the edge of your bed. Climbing off his lap, you shuffle out of your jeans. You watch as Jisung takes his own off, the prominent bulge of his length straining against his boxers.
A swirl of doubt punches you in the gut, and for a moment, you’re winded. Does the hurt Chenle caused you justify this? Should you be choosing this route instead of just leaving?
“You can change your mind,” Jisung says, shuffling closer to the edge.
Snapping out of it, you shake your head and straddle his lap. His bottom lip is taken between his teeth as you grasp his length, freeing it from its confines. A haze takes over his eyes, his hips lifting into your fist.
You move your panties aside and line him up with your entrance. He inhales sharply.
“Fuck, hold on.” He grips your hips. “It might hurt if you don’t let me—”
“Promise you it can’t be any fucking worse than what I’m already going through.” You pause. “Condom? I’m clean and on birth control, so it’s up to you.”
“I’m clean, too.” He nods. “Raw is fine. Good.”
You laugh at the awkwardness, but begin your descent anyway. A moan gets caught in your throat as you struggle to fit him further. Your walls pulse around his cock, and an exhilarating adrenaline makes you feel higher than you’ve ever been. This life wasn’t what you imagined.
You never thought your boyfriend would be capable of sleeping with anyone else, and neither did you think you would be. Yet, here you are, following in Chenle’s footsteps. Jisung was probably a shitty move on your part. At least Chenle wasn’t fucking your friends, but you wanted to make sure he felt your pain—if he’ll even care at all.
Once he’s completely inside you, you grip onto his shoulders, your body trembling. To ease you, he reaches down and thumbs your clit. He kisses your neck, nudging one of your bra straps down your arm. You let out a sigh of pleasure, rolling your hips.
“Yeah, he’s fucking stupid.” Jisung hums into your skin, squeezing your ass. “You…fuck, you feel good.”
“Hope it was all worth it for him,” you mumble, slowly starting to lift your hips up.
He assists you in your pace, an arm around your waist to help. After a few moments, the awkward stretch becomes pleasure. You curse under your breath and pick up your pace, eyes rolling back as he thrusts up to match you.
Each movement of his is punctuated by short, low groans, and your entire being tingles from how deep he is inside you, how this is somehow a signal of your freedom. His tip presses against your cervix and you cry out.
Jisung slaps your ass, and the desperate tug inside you to speed up becomes too much to ignore. In your delirium, you almost miss Chenle standing in the doorway. Maybe you’re imagining it, but as you fuck yourself on Jisung’s cock, you stare right at him, a weak laugh escaping your lips.
You roughly tangle your fingers in Jisung’s hair—something you know drives Chenle crazy when you do it to him—and tug him up to kiss you, moving your hips faster. The other man’s presence just spurs you forward.
Jisung’s fingers connect with your clit again, and your broken moan and blurry vision almost make you miss the way Chenle’s jaw tightens. Your orgasm takes you by surprise, slamming you into a wall of pleasure as you spasm on top of Jisung. Right before your eyesight fails you completely, you see Chenle walk away.
Jisung spills inside you, coating your walls with white. You kiss him hard, panting as you lift yourself off him. He’s dazed, but eventually settles himself back in his boxers before getting up for his jeans. You redress, knowing full well Chenle’s waiting in the kitchen. It’ll most likely be an argument, but you can’t help the adrenaline flowing through your veins at the thought.
Jisung is still blissfully unaware Chenle’s in the house, so when he pulls you in for a kiss, you sigh. You grab his hand and lead him out of your bedroom, and the sight of the other man gripping the counter makes him freeze.
Chenle downs the rest of whatever’s in his cup—it’s safe to assume what the bronze liquid is as he swallows and cringes. He doesn’t look at either of you.
“You should go.” Glancing at Jisung, you catch the worried gleam in his gaze.
“Will you be okay?” he asks.
“The fuck does that mean?” Chenle snaps. “Get the fuck out, Jisung.”
“Call me if you need me.” Jisung hesitantly leaves your side, and once the door closes behind him, you slide your hands in the back pockets of your jeans.
“Really?” Chenle finally breaks the silence. “You could’ve picked anyone, and you fuck Jisung?”
“That’s what you’re mad about?” You snort and walk over to the fridge to grab a water bottle. Untwisting the cap, you turn back to Chenle, unaccustomed to his glare being directed at you. “What? It’s okay for you to fuck anyone you want, but when I do it, it’s wrong?”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t fuck anyone but you.”
“You really think I didn’t see that?” You shake your head, anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach. “There were pictures, you dumbass. And now I can’t even act like I’m ignorant. I can’t act like you love me anymore, Chenle. Be serious right now.”
“Oh, right, because being seen with a girl has to mean I’m fucking her, yeah?” He runs his fingers through his hair. “You’re just insecure, (Y/N), and I can’t fucking help you with that. Did you think fucking Jisung would make me want you more? May as well add crazy to the list, too.”
Under different circumstances, you know those words would kill you. They’d be like bullets fragmenting in your heart, but today? For some reason, everything shut off. You don’t want him anymore, and your irritation sparks at the base of your spine.
“You putting this on me is fucking hilarious.” Your voice is sharp, and you hope you return his bullets as knives.
“We’re fucked.” He pours more liquor into his glass, a scowl on his face as he downs it. “Are you kidding me? I make a mistake one time, and you go out of your way to screw my friend? Did you think you could hurt me or something?”
“Don’t know.” You shrug.
“The sooner you admit we were over long before I ever slept with anyone else, the easier it’ll be for both of us. You’re being a child by inviting Jisung over here.” His grip on the counter tightens.
And just like that, something inside you snaps.
“You did this, Chenle. You fucked up, you ruined everything, you are a piece of shit.” You jab your finger in his direction. “At least I had the decency not to get caught in public. You don’t even care at all. Not even a little bit. And it’s so fucking frustrating because I do everything for you.”
“Bullshit,” he says.
“Was it over when you brought that girl here? Was it? Because you cried and begged for me to stay. You said it was a mistake, and you’d never be able to love anyone the same way you love me. You really think it was over, Chenle? Then what the fuck are you still doing here?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You fucking did it again!” you yell, hands tugging at your hair. “You want me to be the bad guy so bad, but all of this is on you. The blame is on you. You’re the one that can’t keep it in your pants. What are you searching all these beds for, huh? You want something better than me?”
“Fuck,” he shouts, hand swiping across the counter.
Time slows as his palm comes in contact with his glass, as he sends it flying into the cabinet, as it shatters beneath his force. How fucking ironic you relate to it.
Your chest heaves, your heart twisting harshly. How did you get here? How did love turn into something so fucking awful, you can’t stand looking at him? The silence is deafening after the shards scatter onto the floor.
The visceral reaction you get surprises even you. You tilt your head back, your body shaking with laughter.
“You’re so pathetic.” Tears well in your eyes, but the laughs cause you to run out of air. You grip onto the counter. “I fucking hate you. I hate you.”
“(Y/N), I’m—”
“Sorry?” Another bout of giggles passes through your lips. “I don’t care. Don’t you get that now? I hate you and I don’t fucking care what you have to say.”
“Baby, don’t—”
“You said it was over, Chenle. Is it over now? Because I’m done…I’m so done, and I don’t want to look at you anymore. Get the fuck out of my house, and I never want to see you again. I fucking mean it.”
“I’m sorry. Please don’t do this. She didn’t mean anything, and I know Jisung doesn’t mean anything to you, either.” He steps closer to you, glass crunching beneath his feet.
“Should’ve thought about that before you did it again. Leave.” After a few moments of him standing there like a statue, you shout, “Get the fuck out!”
Your throat is raw from yelling, and you’re halfway certain he’s not going to listen to you. He doesn’t usually, but as bad as your fights have gotten, they haven’t quite been this bad. With thousands of emotions written across his face like poetry, he brushes his shirt off and storms past you, slamming the door behind him without one glance back.
Your heart pounds in your chest, each thump hurting more than the last. Nausea takes you by storm, and you’d collapse if you weren’t leaning on the counter for support. You don’t even know who to call. Nobody you know takes care of you better than Chenle does after moments like these, and as your shortness of breath takes over full swing, you turn and sink down to the floor.
But the first step to quitting a drug is to stop supplying it to your bloodstream. To feel the numb of the high seeping away while the pain comes rushing back.
The tears you refused to allow earlier pour down your cheeks, and you drop your head back against the cupboard. Glass gleams next to you, twinkling innocently in the light of your kitchen. Through your blurry vision, it’s almost beautiful—an array of lights in the darkness that plagues your home.
When you grab your phone, you don’t know who’s number you call. You press it to your ear and pray it’s not Chenle.
“(Y/N)?” Jisung’s voice filters through immediately, and it makes your body wrack with another sob.
“Are you far?” you ask, voice thick and warbled.
“Not at all,” he offers instantly. “Do you want me to come back?”
You close your eyes and sniffle. “Please.”
“Okay, I’ll be there in five minutes. Are you okay?” The hint of panic laced in his tone has new tears forming.
“Don’t know.” You wipe your face. “I don’t fucking know.”
However long it takes him to get there, you’re unsure. The next thing you recall, Jisung crouches in front of you, eyes wide with concern. Guilt sinks into your stomach and twists it around, and you look up at him like he’s the key to making you feel better.
“I’m so sorry,” you breathe out. “I’m sorry, Sungie, I don’t know why I did that to you. To him. I—”
“Hey, don’t worry about that right now.” His deep voice resonates in your chest, and it works to calm you slightly. He cups your cheeks and guides you up to make eye contact. “Are you hurt? There’s glass everywhere.”
You shake your head. “He wouldn’t.”
“There are a whole lot of things I thought he wouldn’t do. I have to make sure. Can you stand? Let’s get you away from all this.” He leads you to your feet, bringing you into your bedroom.
A few moments of silence pass as he helps you into your bed.
“Just get some rest, okay?” he whispers, his hands cupping your face.
“Where are you going?” you ask. “Don’t go, please.” You hold onto his wrist as if that’ll keep him with you.
“I’m just gonna clean up your kitchen,” he replies. “I won’t leave unless you want me to.”
You take a deep breath. “Can you stay for a few more minutes? I don’t wanna be alone right now.”
“Whatever you need. I’m here for you.”
You scoot over and glance at the spot next to you, and he obliges with your request. Both of you slide beneath the covers, and you turn to face him before burying your head in his chest. He cradles you closer to him, his warmth calming you slowly.
“Is this okay?” he murmurs.
His heart thumps erratically in his chest as he holds you, but the sound still manages to soothe you.
“Yeah,” you tell him, shuffling closer. “Thank you.”
He hums in response and presses his lips gently against your hairline. There are so many things wrong with your situation and your life, but for once, you feel a real equilibrium. Despite the pain wrenching away at your heart from the weight of Chenle’s absence, you find that all over again with Jisung’s firm grip on you.
Usually, when you and Chenle get into your arguments, the longest he goes without contacting you is two days. You’re now bordering on three and a half weeks, and the thought of him still makes you sick to your stomach. You haven’t heard a single word from him. Hell, you wouldn’t even know if he’s alive.
Jisung has become more of a rock than anything else. He’s equally as disappointed in Chenle as you are at this point, but he makes it a point to stay with you as much as he can. Today, for example, things are quiet. Peaceful. Your few weeks with Jisung have been so…different. You and Chenle couldn’t go more than a few days without an explosive argument, and now you haven’t raised your voice in all this time.
Jisung is soft. Kind, even. He shows you the side of himself you wish Chenle could’ve been before your relationship blew up into smithereens.
Your head rests on his shoulder, his fingers playing with your hair while his eyes are engrossed by the television screen in front of you. The lights are off, the sky is dark, but the gentle blues and greens illuminate the softness of his features.
“Sungie,” you whisper in an attempt to garner his attention.
He turns to you, his eyebrows raised. “Hm?”
“Why are you doing this for me?” you ask. “He’s your best friend.”
“He was.” Jisung nods. “And it sucks. But I’m not going to be friends with someone who treats people who love them like shit. You deserve so much more than that, (Y/N), really. He—what he did was fucked up.”
“I did it, too.” You shrug, fighting the way tears threaten to form in your eyes.
He wets his lips. “Yeah, but only after he did it twice.”
“That makes it okay?”
“No.” Jisung looks down at his lap, his hands fidgeting. “No, it doesn’t. But you were hurting and you retaliated in a way you thought would hurt him back. I would’ve done the same thing in your position.”
“You seriously had no idea what he was doing?” you ask.
“I didn’t have a fucking clue. He knows I would’ve told you immediately.” He sighs.
“Do you care about me?” You tilt your head at him, scanning over his face for any indication of annoyance. Anything that might tip you off that he’ll get angry with you.
He blinks once, a miniscule smile pulling at his mouth. “Of course, I do. I’d do anything for you.”
“Anything?”
He nods.
“Will you…will you kiss me?”
His jaw drops as he flounders for something to say. “That…”
“I’ll be honest with you, Sungie. My relationship with Chenle has been fucked for a really long time. I can’t remember the last time I meant it when I told him I loved him. But…I do. Love him. Miss him. It hurts like hell knowing he’s probably okay right now, with some other girl like I never mattered to him.” You inhale deeply, and your exhale shakes. “He’s all I’ve ever known. I just…want to make sure I can feel. That he didn’t get to keep all of that when he left.”
“And kissing me will do what?” He taps his fingers on his thighs. “What if it just makes you want him more?”
“I can’t. Going back to him is…I can’t do it again. But I need to know I can still function if he’s not the one…” you trail off, deflating entirely. “Nevermind. I’m sorry I asked, okay? I’m being ridiculous.”
You avoid his gaze entirely, staring off in the opposite direction. With Chenle, every touch, every kiss, every intimate moment was a direct result of something negative. It didn’t start that way, but it sure ended up there. Your mouths only met in anger after spewing hate at each other, and you’re not sure what a real, loving kiss feels like anymore.
Jisung reaches up and cups your cheek, directing your gaze back to his. His eyes dip down toward your lips, and your breath catches in your chest. It’s been so long since your heart has fluttered, but he makes it look so damn easy.
“You sure?”
The TV is long forgotten as you nod, your anticipation growing as he draws nearer. You forget to breathe, and once his lips brush yours, you gasp.
You close the last of the distance, the idea of being so close to him—to someone motivating you further. Kissing Jisung is worlds different from kissing Chenle. From the tenderness of his touch to the shape of his lips, not a single thing about him is reminiscent of Chenle. For some reason, disappointment weighs heavily on your chest.
But being with him is better than being alone, and you can’t deny the attraction being there. You remember the way he felt inside you, how he reached spots you didn’t know existed. You tangle your fingers in his hair, groaning against him.
“Jisung.” It comes out more as a whimper than anything else, and he freezes.
“Shit,” he mutters under his breath.
Without another moment of hesitation, you throw your leg over his lap and straddle him, slowly sinking down until you feel him pressed against you. He grasps onto the back of your shirt.
“Are you thinking about it, too?” you ask, leaning in to kiss along his neck.
He gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I probably shouldn’t be.”
“Why not?” You lean back, placing your hands on his shoulders. “Is this weird for you?”
“Um.” He grips your thigh tightly, lips parting as he tries to think of what to say. “Not because of him, if that’s what you mean.”
Your chest tightens at the mention of Chenle, even without his name. Jisung agreed to be with you once, and you’re not sure if he was fueled by any attraction to you at all.
“All I’m saying is that I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for. When I tell you I don’t want to hurt you, I mean it.” He pauses, analyzing you. “C’mon, you’ve gotta know I want you.”
He pulls you closer to him, and your breath hitches when you feel how hard he is.
“I want you. But I need to be sure it’s really me you want.”
Your heart sinks. “Now you mean Chenle.”
“It’s not a bad thing, (Y/N). I get it. You’ve been through a lot with him and you have a bond I might not understand. That’s fine. But if we’re going to start something, it can’t be when you’re confused.” He runs his thumb along your bottom lip, unashamed as he stares at your mouth.
“I’m not confused, Sungie.” You shake your head. “I don’t want him anymore. When I said I was done, I meant it.”
“It’s okay either way. You were with him for a long time. It’s normal to hurt over stuff like this.” Jisung gives you a small smile.
“If you don’t want to right now, we can stop,” you tell him. “But it’s you I want. I promise.”
His fingers weave into your hair, inching you nearer to him. Right before your mouths meet, his gaze meets yours.
“I hope you know how many good things you deserve,” he mutters.
And then he kisses you, the softness of it taking you off guard. You melt into him, and despite hating how you notice the difference between him and Chenle again, you realize you might like this more than what you had before. It’s been so long since the person who was supposed to love you actually cared.
When his tongue meets yours, you sigh and hold onto him. He gets lost in you, hands gripping your hips to guide you back and forth on top of him. Even through layers of clothing, you feel how hard he is.
When a knock sounds on your door, you resolve to ignore it. You don’t care about whatever or whoever’s out there if you have Jisung. He tries to pull away, but you whine.
“Ignore it,” you tell him, your mouth still against his. “Ignore it. Please don’t stop.”
As soon as he kisses you again, a louder rapping noise follows, and you groan, dropping your head on his shoulder.
“You want me to get it?” he asks.
You shake your head, grumbling as you slide off his lap. “I got it.”
Without another word, you ignore the dampness between your legs and head over to your door with one last glance over your shoulder at Jisung. When you open it and see who’s standing outside, you recoil hard.
“What the hell are you doing here?” You’re not sure why you’re even entertaining this at all. Chenle stands before you, his eyebrows pinched together as he formulates his response. As to not alert Jisung of his presence, you keep your voice down.
“It’s been weeks and I haven’t heard from you.” He sighs. “I know we fought, but we never go this long without talking. I miss you.”
You don’t mean to laugh, but you do anyway. “You don’t miss me. I already told you we’re done. And I meant it this time, Chenle. You have to leave.”
“Why aren’t you letting me in?” He snorts. “Be fucking for real, we always end up right where we started. This time isn’t any different.”
“It is, though.” You pause, running your fingers through your hair. “I’m done. Honestly, if I never see you again, I’ll be better off.”
“You don’t really mean that.” He frowns.
“Yes, I do.”
“You can’t get mad at me for what I did when you did the exact same thing. We’ll call it even and start over.” Chenle stops, gaze mapping out every inch of you before he continues. “Why do you look like that?”
“Excuse me? Look like what?”
“Your face is all red, and your hair is messed up—” Whatever interrupts him has irritation creating a scowl on his face.
You’re only confused for a second before an arm wraps around your waist, fingers tapping against your hip. Heart twisting, you gape as you glance between Jisung and Chenle. Nerves eat away at you since you’re not sure what the latter will do, but you grasp onto Jisung’s wrist.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Chenle lets out a short chuckle, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re both fucking insane.”
His words alone are almost enough to make you want to remove yourself from Jisung’s hold, but you know you’re safest right where you’re at.
But seeing Chenle in front of you again for the first time in weeks has you yearning for him. To kiss him, to hear him laugh, to simply just have someone who loves you. You have to keep reminding yourself that he doesn’t. Love hasn’t been in the equation for much too long.
“Let her go.” Chenle practically stares into Jisung’s soul. “See if she still wants you when you’re not holding her away from me.”
Jisung tenses behind you, and the hesitation behind his touch leaving you can only mean one thing—he believes him. He’s worried what Chenle is saying is true. That you’ll never want him in the same way you want Chenle.
Chenle’s gaze, so painfully familiar, settles on yours. Your heart sinks into your stomach as you recognize what this is.
It’s the beginning of the cycle.
It’s how he tricks you into thinking he’ll be better for you.
In his eyes, he begs you to come back to him. He makes you think that maybe, just maybe, he’ll finally be what you’ve wanted him to be. What you needed him to be.
“C’mon, baby, we’ll forget this ever happened. I don’t blame you for being lonely and needing someone. He was just there. I know.”
Through your peripheral vision, you see Jisung’s fist clench at his side. The longer you stay silent, the more nervous the man behind you becomes. Your insides are at war. Not even ten minutes ago, you were sure you wanted Jisung. You had been reassuring him of that.
Now, seeing Chenle again for the first time in weeks, you’re practically weak in the knees. You want him, but not the man you’ve grown used to. You want who he used to be in the beginning—the person who loved you endlessly, who always put you first, who never went out of his way to hurt you in order to make you small enough to want him back.
No.
Because 491 days ago, he broke your heart for the first time. He was never going to admit to you what he did. Instead, he hid it, and the only reason you found out was through a text message that came through when he was showing you something on his phone.
You’re tired of it. Of being hurt and picking up shattered glass when he doesn’t want to be called out for his shitty actions.
“You’re wrong,” you mumble, terrified of the words leaving your mouth. After all, this means he’ll be gone for good. You won’t ever love him again. “Jisung wasn’t just there.”
Chenle recoils, narrowing his eyes. “Right. Because you’re suddenly in love with him, huh?”
“I care about him.” You reach back and grab his hand.
“If you pick him right now, you better be damn sure that’s what you want,” he snaps. “You’re making a huge fucking mistake, (Y/N). He’ll never be me.”
“That’s good. I don’t want him to be.” You shake your head. “I meant it when I said I was done.”
He runs his tongue over his teeth before glaring at Jisung. “You’re fucking dead to me. Some friend you are, trying to steal my fucking girl from me. That was your plan the whole time, wasn’t it? You were just waiting for the opportunity to swoop in and save the day.”
“You did this yourself,” Jisung replies. “She wouldn’t be with me if you were enough for her.”
Your chest tightens, preparing for Chenle to retaliate. You squeeze Jisung’s hand, and his thumb rubs over your knuckles. Over the course of your much too long relationship with Chenle, you quickly came to realize how close he and Jisung were. They were best friends, inseparable, really, and now the only thing stopping them from fighting is you. Right in the middle, you stand between them physically and metaphorically.
Instead, Chenle glances up to the ceiling, a laugh escaping him before he turns around without another word and disappears down the hallway. You slap your hand over your mouth when a shaky breath surpasses your lips, quickly reaching forward to shut the door. You lean against it for a moment, resting your forehead on the wood as Jisung stands silent behind you.
“Are you okay?” he whispers. “That was a lot.”
You don’t say anything. Between the way your heart beats at a hundred miles a minute, how your brain swirls, and how your stomach twists, the only thing you can do is suck in a loud, sharp inhale as you fight the urge to bawl your eyes out.
He moves closer to you, putting his hand on your shoulder. The touch sends a pang through your body, and you have to smack him away. Everything is so overwhelming, and knowing Chenle is gone for good is making you question every choice you’ve ever made leading up to this moment.
Once upon a time, you were convinced he was the love of your life. You were sure things were going to be perfect forever, but God, how far from the truth could you have been?
Jisung stays silent while you regain your composure. He waits patiently, but every little sound is amplified in your ears, so the creak of the wood beneath his feet as he rocks back and forth has everything crashing down around you.
You crumble, but somehow in the midst of it, Jisung’s arm wraps around your waist and tugs you close to him so you don’t fall. Fighting your tears, you clench your eyes shut. Over the years you spent with Chenle, you learned never to show how much something could hurt you. Showing emotion to anyone gives them the opportunity to hurt you, and Chenle took it one too many times.
“It’s okay,” Jisung whispers, sinking to the floor with you. “Tell me what you need. I’m here for you.”
You take a shuddering breath, but instead of saying anything, you turn and bury yourself in Jisung’s chest. His heart pounds in rhythm with yours, but he doesn’t seem outwardly anxious. He talks to you softly in an attempt to guide you. You don’t want to put this burden on him. Even then, all you can think about is Chenle, and how everything is over.
All the effort you put in to overcome the problems he created. Every argument you thought was worth it because maybe this one would lead somewhere. Maybe this breakdown would encourage him to change. Maybe this home you created for him would finally be enough.
It never was, and it never will be. How could it? He’s more interested in keeping you just to say he can. Chenle doesn’t love you, and you don’t love him. At least, you don’t think you do.
“I’m sorry,” you say to Jisung, shaking your head. “I don’t know what’s happening.”
“I know.” He cradles you to his chest. “I know. It’s okay, now. It’s all over.”
But for some reason, that alone hurts more than anything Chenle ever said to you.
More days pass. They turn into weeks, and you honestly start to feel like you’ll be okay. This morning especially when you wake up to the sensation of Jisung’s lips on your neck. He hums against your skin, tongue tracing over your pulse.
You’d been nervous to initiate anything with Jisung again, but last night, one thing led to another, and the two of you ended up in bed with your legs around his waist.
Jisung makes you feel safe. You’re not sure what about that makes you crave him so much, but you easily melt into his touch. Pressing yourself closer to his warmth, you run your fingers through his hair.
“How are you feeling?” His voice is deeper in the morning with a slight rasp to it.
“Never been better.” You’re not lying. Everything with him is peaceful.
His hand moves down your side to squeeze your hip, and further until he’s resting on your thigh.
“Sungie,” you mutter.
“Yeah?”
“If you want something, tell me. Teasing isn’t nice.” You put your hand on top of his.
He chuckles, nipping at the base of your neck. “Maybe I just like touching you.”
“There are innocent places to touch.” You move him toward the apex of your thighs, suppressing a shaky breath. “But let’s forget those exist.”
You feel his smirk on your skin, and when he brushes against your clit, you curse quietly. He hooks his ankle with yours to give himself better access, and he finds your entrance already wet.
“You sure it’s me who wanted it?” He tsks.
You open your mouth to respond, but he slides two of his long fingers inside you. A moan escapes instead, and you feel a rush of heat to your cheeks and between your legs. Your brain is still fogged with sleep, which must mean that’s part of why it feels so fucking good. You fall into the pleasure, gripping the sheets in front of you.
“Can’t think of anything else but you,” he whispers, pumping his hand at a steady pace. “How you sound, how you feel, how you taste. Just you.”
Your eyes clench shut as you relish in the way he makes you feel, his gentle movements making you need him that much more. Rocking your hips, you practically melt into him. Something about the early morning sun and still being tired from the night before has you getting closer and closer without much effort from either of you.
His lips brush your ear. “Feel good, baby?”
Your walls clamp down on him, and you let out a moan in response to his question. Butterflies swarm in your stomach, and while you’re desperate to finish, you also wouldn’t mind sitting here like this forever.
“Jisung,” you whine. “Please.”
He tilts your head back and kisses you hard, his thumb finding your clit as he continues. You cry out into his mouth, back arching at the pleasure swirling around you. Your insides twist and turn and you’re only half-sure you’ll ever come down from this.
Unfortunately for you, the high fades as he guides you through it. Once he pulls out of you, you turn to face him. He brings his fingers up to his mouth, cleaning your arousal off as his eyes flutter shut at your taste.
You push his shoulder until he’s flat on his back, and when you straddle his lap, he stares up at you in awe as the blanket falls from your shoulders. Reaching down, you line him up with your entrance. His lips part, and he sucks in a quick breath.
You sink down slowly, thighs shaking as you allow him to fill you. He curses, his nails digging into your hips. The more you take him, the tighter his grip on you becomes. You missed the feeling of this—of being full and seeing the pleasure you could cause someone else.
Once he’s completely buried inside you, he holds you down by your hips, eyebrows furrowed deeply.
“Don’t move yet,” he mutters, voice thick. “God, are you really gonna make me cum just like this?”
Jisung explores every inch of your body, his hands leaving your hips to squeeze your ass, tracing up until he finds your breasts. His thumbs rub against your nipples, and you jolt, doing your best to refrain from taking him the way you want.
“Can I move?” you ask breathlessly. “Please, Sungie.”
“Yeah.” He nods. “Of course, baby, show me how much you want me.”
You heat up at the sound of that, and when his grip loosens on you, you lift yourself up. The slow drag of him against your walls has you wanting to collapse already. He studies you closely, somewhat amused by your struggle to take him completely.
You move through your sensitivity, sinking back down and swiveling your hips. He thrusts up, and the tip of his cock hits your cervix. You whine, opting to continue your pace. As soon as he’s about to slide out of you, you allow him to fill you all over again.
He matches you, fucking up into you when you’ve already taken him halfway. Sounds of your arousal fill the room while he moves inside you, and he lifts his head to watch where he disappears in you.
You’re numbed by the pleasure, so much so that you’re barely able to hear the moans and quiet praises falling from his lips.
He squeezes your breasts, fingers tweaking your nipples. His eyes are everywhere, entranced by everything you are as you fuck yourself on his cock. A band starts to tighten in your stomach, but all you want is to make him feel good.
You grab one of his wrists, tugging down in the hopes he’ll get the idea. He places his palm flat on your stomach as he makes his way down slowly, slowly, smirking as you whine at him.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans, thumbing your clit in perfect circles.
Your pace falters as you feel the euphoria approaching, unable to keep up. He stops, cursing as you clench hard around him. You let out a frustrated moan but opt to keep bouncing on him through your sensitivity.
“Don’t stop,” he commands. “It’s gonna feel better if you keep going.”
“Jisung, please.” Your walls flutter around him, and when he returns to your sensitive bud, you both know it won’t take long at all.
Your orgasm slams into you, but you force yourself to keep moving. Curses leave your mouth in a string as the knot unravels faster than you thought possible. Your walls clench around him. The tremor in your thighs makes it hard to keep moving, but you refuse to stop until he’s done.
He sits up, pulling you flush against his chest as he thrusts up into you. You bury your head in his neck and hold onto him tightly, the cloud of pleasure enough to make you lightheaded.
Once he’s as deep as he can get, he moans and spills inside you. Both of you pant, sweat making your skin stick together. And then his lips are on yours, soft in contrast with all of the overwhelming feelings happening.
His nails gently drag along your spine as he kisses down your neck.
“(Y/N),” he says.
“Hm?” is all you can muster.
“I really, really like you. A lot.” His mouth brushes against your shoulder. “And…this was probably the worst time to say that. But it’s true.”
“I like you, too.”
He doesn’t see your smile, but you feel his.
“No matter what happens,” he says, inhaling deeply. “Just know I won’t let you down, okay?”
“I know, Sungie.” You wrap your arms around him and pull him closer, still attempting to calm down from your whirlwind. “I trust you.”
He flips you over, holding himself up on his elbows while he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “Gonna clean you up, okay?”
You hum in response, letting out a sigh when he pulls out of you. Waiting for him to return, you don’t move a muscle, instead, closing your eyes and basking in the feeling of warmth he’s left all over your body.
He cleans up the mess between your legs with a towel, and then he’s climbing back into bed next to you. Tugging you close, he scans over your face.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Is it about him?” You force the words out, but the thought of Chenle at a time like this has your stomach twisting in unpleasant ways. It’s better for you when you just…don’t think of him at all. Only then are you able to completely enjoy your time with Jisung.
He chews on his bottom lip, nodding once. “Yeah.”
“Of course, you can. You just can’t get upset at my answers.”
“I won’t.” He pauses, taking a deep breath as he traces his finger down your arm. “Do you miss him?”
“I don’t know.” You shrug. “I mean, I guess a part of me does. But I don’t know if that’s me missing him or the craziness and the pain. Because after a while…”
He squeezes you reassuringly. “It’s okay.”
“After a while, the pain starts to…feel normal. Good, even. Like I trained myself to crave the dysfunctional shit we did. In my mind, I thought all couples fought the same way we did. And everyone says fighting is normal, and if you’re not, you don’t really care about the relationship. So, in some sick, twisted way, I saw those arguments as us just…loving each other. Loudly.”
“I’m sorry he did that to you,” Jisung replies. “It’s not right.”
“It wasn’t just him, Sungie. It was me, too. C’mon, I literally asked you to help me because I thought it would hurt him.” You laugh at yourself, but ultimately, the conversation tears the barely healed wound in your heart open all over again.
“Sounds like he pushed you there.”
“I still made that decision. I could’ve been the bigger person and kept my hands clean,” you explain.
“Do you regret it?” he asks, a genuine fear laced in his gaze. “Do you still want him?”
Your hesitation has his fear twisting into hurt, but his face doesn’t change. It’s just the emotions swirling in his brown eyes that give you any indication of his feelings.
“Listen to me,” you murmur, cupping his cheek and rubbing your thumb over his skin. “I don’t regret it. Do I wish we started this in a different way? Yeah, I do. But what’s done is done, and I don’t think it would change anything for me and him.”
He places his hand over yours. “I won’t pretend like I understand, because I’ve never been in that kind of situation before. I just can’t believe he would fucking do something like that. To you of all people.”
“Sungie, I’m not perfect.” You give him a tiny smile. “I’ve said and done things I shouldn’t have. Regardless of everything else, this was the ultimate betrayal, wasn’t it? He might have done it first, but I’m with you. It isn’t just sex.”
“This isn’t your fault.”
“Maybe not. But I don’t think it’s just his, either. We fell apart long before he ever cheated in the first place.” Tears well in your eyes, and you shake your head. “I don’t wanna talk about him anymore.”
He kisses your forehead, tugging you to his chest. “That’s okay. Let’s spend all day right here, okay?”
You nod. “I’d love that.”
Your first mistake of the day was leaving your house. You’re not sure what spurred you into going out to get takeout considering all of the leftovers you have in your fridge, but life is clearly too short to worry about semantics. Your sunglasses block the sun out of your eyes, and as you push the door to the restaurant open, you place them on top of your head instead.
You don’t notice at first. After all, you’re starving and Jisung is at his own house tonight, so the only thing you’re focused on is ordering your food so you can eat.
You tell the nice lady your order, and when you’re done, you feel eyes on you—a prickly feeling beginning at the base of your spine that slowly weaves its way up each vertebrae until you find yourself turning around against your will.
In an instant, your hunger is replaced with an ache that has your stomach twisting and curling. Chenle meets your gaze, sitting at the table in the far corner. Your lungs refuse to fill when you also recognize that he’s not alone. A girl sits across from him, and her back faces you. She seems too engrossed in the story she’s telling Chenle to realize he’s no longer listening to her. He’s honed in on you, on how stiff you’re standing at the mere sight of him.
You’re not with him anymore. Of course, he’s free to see any girl he wants now. Why are you so upset? You’ve got Jisung. There’s no need for you to feel this way, to feel how your heart beats painfully slow, threatening to stop altogether at the thought of his hands on her the same way he used to touch you.
At least you two aren’t together this time, right?
At least he’s not betraying your trust, your love, and your soul simply because he’s bored, right?
The lump in your throat is impossible to swallow past, and now all you want is to run home and never be seen again. Your appetite has diminished, and you feel yourself reverting back into who you were with him.
Whatever’s going on inside you is exactly the same as the two times you caught him while you were together.
You’re not over him. For some fucking reason, you still want him.
You curse under your breath, but you’re unable to pull your gaze away from his. Much to your surprise, he doesn’t look smug at all, but like he’s admiring you. As if he misses you, and whatever void he’s been trying to fill is just…perpetually empty.
The lady clearing her throat catches your attention. She hands you your bag, and you thank her and quickly depart the restaurant without a second glance at Chenle. While you refuse to let yourself cry, you can’t stop thinking about him even after you’ve been home for an hour. Your food remains untouched, and you pace around your kitchen like everything bad Chenle has ever done has dissipated into thin air.
You know exactly how this is going to play out. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to reach out to you, and you’re not strong enough to turn him away now. Even when you have Jisung, who has done nothing but be perfect to you, you just can’t fucking get out of this trap.
You should call Jisung. Tell him what happened and that you need him, but you don’t. There’s a sneaking suspicion that floods through your bones when you realize you don’t want to. Calling him means he’ll prevent you from talking to Chenle, and then Chenle will go back to whoever that girl is and do everything you like to her.
You curse under your breath, grasping onto the edge of the counter.
Will Jisung ever be enough for you?
Is peace…arbitrary? Redundant? Is it not what you want?
The whole time you were with Chenle, it’s what you craved. Stability, peace, love. Three things you never got, and now you have them. But it’s not the same with Jisung. You don’t want those things with anyone but Chenle, but at the same time, silence is unbearably loud. Louder than any of the times you’ve yelled at Chenle or vice versa.
In chaos, you flourish. Maybe…maybe, you’re unable to function without chaos. Perhaps that’s what keeps you alive, your gears turning, and your life harmonious.
How the fuck does that work? Is this all you’re good for?
Just like you predicted, a knock sounds at your door. With your palms sweating, you check through the peephole first, and your suspicions are confirmed. Chenle stands there, waiting for you to let him in.
You have two choices here.
You could ignore him. Leave him standing alone in your apartment complex’s hallway like the dumbass he is, floundering for your attention. You could choose Jisung, the peace and tranquility you know is suitable for the long term.
Or…
Or you could have him again. You could complete yourself in the only way you know how. Maybe the cycle will end this time. He’s been without you for so long, he might have learned his lesson.
It’s not even a fucking competition in your brain.
You unlock the door, confronting him face-to-face—alone—for the first time since you left him. Or made him leave, is more like it.
He doesn’t leave time for awkwardness or pleasantries. Instead, he launches himself forward, his hands cupping your cheeks as he smashes his lips to yours. In his grasp, you’re absolutely pliant, melting right into him just like you’ve done every other time before.
You moan into his mouth, fingers grasping at the fabric of his shirt. Too much time has passed already, so the last thing you want is to wait any more. The kiss is messy, rough in a way that has your teeth clashing together and tongues wrestling for dominance.
Jisung is great. Jisung is nice, but he’s not Chenle.
Chenle’s not scared of being rough, of the messiness you’ve craved without him.
“Hi, baby,” Chenle murmurs, pulling his shirt over his head before dipping back down to kiss along your neck. “I fucking missed you.”
You’re ashamed of how the feelings of uncertainty have turned into lust. It sends heat throughout your entire body, and you hate how damp you feel between your legs already.
“S’okay.” He nips against your pulse. “I know you missed me, too. Don’t waste that pretty little voice on words when I could make you moan instead.”
Much to his surprise, you push him back, chest heaving as you allow your gaze to rake over him. Unfortunately for you, you’ve never been attracted to anyone the way you are with Chenle. Even his mistreatment of you isn’t enough to make that fade.
Without hesitation, you pull your T-shirt off and toss it across the room. The next thing you know, he’s moving forward again, turning you around and pushing your stomach against the island. The chill has you pushing back against him, but it’s nothing compared to how hot every inch of your skin is.
“How many times?” he asks, grinding against your ass as he unbuttons your jeans and unzips them.
“What?” You’re unable to concentrate on anything except how close his fingers are to where you need them most.
He kisses your shoulder before nudging your bra strap down. Moving to the other, he repeats his action. “How many times have you fucked Jisung?”
“Chenle, I—”
“Don’t lie to me, slut. Tell me how many times you screwed my best friend.”
Your eyes nearly roll back. “Four. Five. I don’t know.”
“Are we fucking even now? That’s what you wanted, huh? A little bit of adventure because I fucked up?” His fingers close in around the sides of your neck. “You got it, baby. Don’t you ever…ever fuck him again, got it? Only I get you.”
You clench your thighs together, and a whimper gets caught in the back of your throat. At this point, you’d tell him anything to get him to touch you. And despite Jisung being the topic of conversation, he’s the last damn thing on your mind.
His breath fans across your ear, and through gritted teeth, he says, “If you want to cum tonight, you better fucking agree with me.”
“I won’t.” You quickly shake your head and force the words out through his grip on your throat. “Don’t want anyone else touching me but you.”
As a reward, his hand slips into your jeans. His fingertips connect with your clit through your panties, and your hips jolt.
“He can’t be doing a good job if you’re still so wet for me.” Chenle tsks. “I warned you he could never be me.”
You whine in response, grinding down onto his touch for more stimulation.
“What was it you said?” His circles on your bud are achingly slow.
“Chenle, please—”
“That’s not it.” He stops rubbing you, moving to take his hand out of your jeans.
“No, no.” You push his wrist down. “Fuck, I said I didn’t want him to be you. Please don’t stop.”
You feel his smirk against your skin as he returns to his slow, pleasure-filled torture. He rolls his hips, pressing his hard, straining cock against your ass. The counter digs almost uncomfortably into your midriff, but you couldn’t possibly care at a time like this. He leans back a bit to unclasp your bra, and while both of you are distracted with that, his hand moves inside your panties, tracing along your entrance before slowly sliding two fingers in.
You grip the edge of the counter, pushing back to tell him how much you need him. As soon as your bra falls to the floor, he’s pulling out of you, trailing his sticky fingers up your body until he reaches your breasts. He squeezes you, caging you in his grasp, his chest against your back as he uses your arousal to wet your nipples before he rubs his thumbs over them.
Your back arches and your head falls back against him, quiet moans spilling from your lips at his slow pace. Every inch of you is on fire, and you crave him way too much for your own good.
“You’re so fucking pretty, baby,” he hums, and while his hands pleasure your tits, you can’t help but wish it was his mouth. His tongue is sinful, and you want all he has to offer.
When you rub your thighs together, you whine at the friction, your body sensitive from your need.
“Bet you just wanna be bent over and fucked like the little slut you are, huh?” He chuckles darkly. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna forget your own name.”
He pushes your jeans down your thighs, but doesn’t get them past your knees. His hand slides back into your panties, and two of his fingers are back inside you in record time. You sigh in relief, rocking against him to encourage him to hurry up.
This time, he moves fast, the palm of his hand hitting your throbbing clit with every thrust. You can’t contain your moans, grinding to get more stimulation on your bud.
Unfortunately for you, Chenle knows your body just as well as you do. Right when your walls start to clamp down as a warning sign of your impending orgasm, he removes his touch. You curse, whining like a child at the feeling of being left hanging.
He brings his hand up to your face. “Suck.”
You don’t hesitate. You take his fingers into your mouth, collecting your slick from them and swirling your tongue to make sure you get all of it. Hollowing your cheeks, you allow your eyes to roll back at the taste and how all it does is arouse you further. He slowly pulls them away from you, and an obscene pop follows.
“Did he make you this wet?” Chenle asks. “Tell me who’s better.”
“You,” you say quickly.
“Why?” he continues. “What did my slut learn after having her fun? Hm?”
“H-He’s too nice.” Your face burns, embarrassment creeping through every inch of your body. “Never like this for him.”
Chenle’s hand finds the middle of your shoulder blades and pushes you flat against the counter. You shiver in anticipation, pushing back against him. He rips your panties down, and a sharp slap on your ass has your hips jolting.
“Dripping like the little whore you are,” he scolds you, hitting the other cheek, too. “Gonna make a mess all over the kitchen, baby.”
“Lele, please—”
“Oh, now you wanna act like that, huh?” He unbuckles his belt, the metal clinking together. “You really think nicknames will make me go easy on you?”
“Don’t want you to,” you reply, letting your forehead drop against the granite.
He presses his fingertips against your clit, spreading your arousal around as he rubs fast circles. Your legs are weak and shaking, and your need for release and the arousal soaking your thighs only serve to add to your embarrassment.
“Such a pretty pussy.” He sucks in a deep breath. “No wonder he wanted to steal you from me.”
You arch your back to give him better access, moans spilling past your lips as you grind into his touch. “Chenle, please. Please let me cum. It feels so good.”
“You close?” He contemplates, his other hand massaging your ass.
“So fucking close,” you confirm. “Please.”
“Mm,” he murmurs, circling you faster. “You do sound fucking beautiful when you cum.”
For a moment, you believe he’ll actually let you finish. You build and build, hips frantically moving, but almost like he knows you’re one last rub away from shattering, he pulls away. Your whine turns into a loud moan when he slaps your clit hard.
“You don’t deserve it yet, baby. You don’t get to cum unless it’s on my cock. Understood?”
You're near tears at this point, panting in the aftermath of being denied your orgasm again. Chenle shuffles behind you, and the rest of his clothes hit the floor. He curses under his breath, and you close your eyes, imagining him with his fingers gripping his cock, unable to stop his hips from bucking into his fist.
“You won’t like what happens if you cum without permission, pretty girl.” He rubs the head of his cock along your folds to collect your arousal. “Soaking me already and I’m not even inside.”
He allows his tip to enter you just enough to begin a stretch. Your breath catches in your throat, and you try your best to stop yourself from pushing back until he’s all the way in.
The words escaping you are no longer coherent, but that seems to spur him forward more than anything else. He lands another smack on your ass, but before you even react to that, he thrusts himself in completely until his balls press against your clit.
Your eyes roll back as you let out an obscene, long moan. You move your hips to stimulate your throbbing bud, but he tightens his grip on you to keep you still. He pulls out slowly, lewd noises following.
“Hear that?” He lets out a breathy chuckle. “This pussy is mine. Fuck.”
“Only yours,” you agree.
When he starts thrusting, it wreaks havoc on your body. You're already seconds away from an orgasm considering how many you’ve been denied, but you do your best to listen to him. His skin slaps against yours as he quickens his pace to an almost impossible speed. You’re lost in bliss, walls pulsing around him. All you want is to finish, and hopefully he’ll allow it soon.
His moans mix with yours, and the longer the two of you are connected, the higher pitched his become. His nails dig into you while he pulls you back with every thrust forward. The tip of his cock slides right into your spot, and the entire world tilts on its axis.
You practically scream out a chorus of pleas, begging him to allow you to finish as his length rubs against your inner walls perfectly. The world around you becomes blurry, and you can’t be certain, but you’re pretty sure you’re fucking drooling.
“Do you deserve it?” He curses under his breath. “Answer me. Do you deserve to cum?”
You shake your head, brain too foggy to comprehend fully. “I need it. Please.”
He doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he reaches around your legs and finds your clit with ease. All it takes is a brush of his fingertips to have you catapulting into your orgasm. Your walls clamp down on him hard, and his rhythm is thrown off. He refuses to stop until you’re through it, thrusting through the tightness.
When he pulls out abruptly, you whine.
“On your knees.” He pants, pulling you up and turning you toward him. “Hurry the fuck up, slut. On your fucking knees and suck my cock.”
You don’t need any help dropping to the ground, your legs weak anyway. Glancing up at him, you waste no time in wrapping your hand around him. He twitches in your grasp, and instead of teasing him, you start taking him in your mouth. He’s heavy on your tongue, achingly hard, and cutting off your air supply the deeper you take him into your throat.
“Don’t stop, baby.” He gathers your hair up into a makeshift ponytail, guiding you along his cock.
You follow his commands, a surge of pride welling in your chest when his hips involuntarily thrust. Peering up at him through your lashes, you’re surprised to see his phone in his hand. He’s recording you. It does nothing but make you bob your head faster, desperate to please him.
“Fuck, my little slut sucks cock so good,” he hisses, throwing his head back. “Wanna cum all over your face.”
You moan, the vibration making him gasp. He yanks your head back.
“Open your mouth,” he commands.
You do as he says, and before he even has to tell you, you stroke him until strings of white shoot from his tip. He moans, tilting your head up by your chin to see you painted in his cum.
You use your tongue to catch what landed on your lips, awaiting his next request. His chest heaves as he stares at you. He swipes your cheek with his thumb, and you take the initiative of taking it into your mouth.
He tosses his phone on the counter, gently helping you to your feet. “You okay?” he asks, voice much softer.
You nod timidly, the cloud slowly lifting from your brain. “I’m okay.”
“Did I hurt you?” He grabs one of the dish towels on the counter and uses it to wipe the remainder of his release off your face.
“No.” You shake your head, confusion sinking in when he helps you remove your clothes all the way instead of redressing you.
“Good. Let’s go shower, baby. I’ll clean you up.”
Your heart twists in your chest, but you allow him to intertwine your fingers and lead you into the bathroom. You’ve missed him so much, and no matter how much you fought, it would always end like this—with some sort of sexual make up to let out pent up aggressions, and then he took such good care of you.
Why couldn’t he be like that all the time?
Once you're beneath the warm water, he pulls you to his chest, cradling the back of your head as he presses his lips gently on yours. For a moment, you forget the rest of the world. Finally, the puzzle feels as if it’s been pieced back together.
You pull away first, scanning over his face, noting how the water makes his hair stick flat to his forehead. Smiling, you run your fingers through it to push it back. He gulps, gaze softer than you’re used to as he holds you close.
“(Y/N), I’m…” He pauses. “I love you. Don’t leave me like that again.”
You don’t hesitate to nod. Cupping his cheek, you run your thumb along his skin. “I love you, too. I’m not going anywhere.”
Chenle washes your hair, gently lathers your body with soap, and presses soft kisses on your skin. These are the moments you miss. The ones where he shows you he loves you, that he cares. You want to live in these moments forever, but it’s normal that they don’t last.
All couples fight. All couples retaliate at each other.
The two of you aren’t above it, clearly, but the most important thing is that he’s here with you now…right?
It doesn’t matter if he’s strayed before. He always comes back to you.
This time will be different. You feel it in your bones.
Once you’re done in the shower, he helps dry you off and massages your shoulders. It doesn’t matter how much time passes—you’ll always be his. He takes care of you. He loves you.
When you’re completely dry, the two of you climb right into bed. He pulls you to him, kissing all over your face despite how clearly tired he is.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice strained. “For everything, (Y/N). We’re gonna be better this time. I promise.”
You’ve learned to be weary of his promises, but that doesn’t mean you don’t hope he means it.
“I’m sorry, too.” You kiss the base of his neck. “Fighting fire with fire is never the right answer.”
His breathing evens out before yours, and you stare up at your ceiling, deep in thought. Everything is overwhelming, but one thing settling inside you has your heart shattering just like the glass Chenle carelessly swiped off the counter.
You’re with Jisung. You told Jisung you wanted him, that you wanted to see where things went, but here you are, back with Chenle.
You’ve become everything you hated Chenle for being.
What the fuck do you tell Jisung?
#nct dream#chenle#zhong chenle#jisung#park jisung#nct#nct smut#jisung smut#chenle smut#nct dream smut#kpop smut#jisung x reader#chenle x reader#jisung scenarios#jisung imagines#chenle scenarios#chenle imagines
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16 and 21 for Baby, 6 for Demi, and I forget what their brother's name was i'msosorry but 4 for him!
thank u ro!!! 🥺 although 40 lashes for not remembering mason's name
16. What does your OC's childhood bedroom look like?
when baby is still living in the ayuluk house, she sleeps in the bedroom that was converted from a closet back when mason was born, which did its job but wasnt anything special. once jesse and demi decided to move in together, he got really excited by the prospect of turning the spare room into baby's new bedroom. he built her a trundle bed with drawers underneath to store her toys and books and a desk while demi painted the walls light blue. there's thick blue curtains over the window to keep out bright sunlight on snow light that have graphics of kelp and coral along the bottom half and fish to make it look like the ocean floor. one corner has all her doll stuff and is padded with a rug so she can comfortably play on her knees. it's a little eclectic and theres definitely a lot of blue, but baby LOVES it. her room is her favorite place in the world.
21. If your OC could speak to their childhood self, what would they say?
man. "we're kind of weird, but that's ok. we don't have to change that part or anything. but please don't think ur wrong or not supposed to be loved. ur going to be so happy. people will like u for real and u will like urself :)"
6. Did your OC have a teacher or a mentor growing up? What was your OC's relationship with them like?
demi definitely looked up to her mom and had a lot of love for her, but it was difficult to like. fully learn from and trust her because demi Was the lightning rod for sam henry's abuse and everyone Knew it, including her mom. she was really polite to adults, but didnt really trust most of them or expect them to understand her until her eighth grade science teacher. initially, her teacher was just impressed by demi's intellect and performance in the class, but she soon realized that demi was not being nurtured quite the way she deserved to be. this was a smart, sweet kid who didnt recognize those traits in herself. she gets to know demi and invites her to read or do homework in her classroom before and after school so demi doesnt have to wait outside. she's the one who encourages demi to start volunteering at the animal shelter once demi admits that she'd like to go into a caretaking profession and likes animals more than people. it wasn't anything like Monumental, but demi really needed this kind of encouragement and just attention from an adult and it set her on her career path. they're facebook friends and demi agonizes at least once a month over whether she should send a message to her to express her gratitude or if it would be Weird.
4. What was your OC's childhood dream? Is that still their dream? If it has changed, why did it change and what's their new dream?
mason was the kind of kid who wanted to do Only Cool Shit when he grew up. like he did Not want to be a doctor or a police officer, he wanted to be a BMX racer or helicopter pilot or just like. guy who drives monster trucks for a living. his dream was basically to live to the extreme and never, ever have a boring life. now as an adult, this isnt quite his dream anymore, but he still aspires to not live a boring life. working at the docks and manning industrial fishing boats injects some excitement into his life while also providing a pretty good wage for first his family, then himself. he and his buddies will do fun, risky shit—snowboarding, axe-throwing, jumping ice floes—just for the sake of having fun. mason has a little more self-awareness now and concern for his wellbeing since he had to take on a lot of responsibility before he was even an adult and currently wants to stay at least somewhat safe to be there for his sister and her family, but he's sticking to his dream of never letting tedium and fear win.
#rosayoro#ask#syd squeaks#this again got too long but i had SO much fun answering these omg#baby ayuluk#demi ayuluk#mason ayuluk#jesse pinkman
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