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hornychristianprincess · 6 months ago

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wasted (leehan x fem reader) FINAL

paring: leehan x fem reader, ft. taesan genre: smut, fluff, angst, fuckboy!leehan word count: 15k summary: finally confessing your feelings to leehan leads to a reaction you could have never prepared for. warnings: unwanted sexual advances (NOT from leehan), explicit [consensual] sex scenes, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it ppl) read on ao3 if you please by clicking HERE.

“Jaehyun, you have a lot of friends, right?” asks Leehan when he and his roommate are relaxing in their shared living room, doing homework. “Do you know anyone who works in the tutoring office? Blonde streak of hair?”

It’s the only attributes he can remember about the guy he saw you entering your room with only a few days ago, noticing the blue tutoring office logo on the chest of his polo shirt and the distinctive stripe of color in the middle his head.

“Oh yeah, I think you’re talking about Taesan,” says Jaehyun, who luckily isn’t paying attention enough to his roommate to notice how he perks up at just the name. “Why?”

Even Leehan himself isn’t exactly sure why he cares so much.

It’s hypocritical at best and gross at worst to think that you have any less of a right to screw around than he does.

But whether it's his innate territoriality coming into play or the fact that he’s upset it wasn’t him at your side instead, he can’t help but see you differently after what he saw.

“I saw him with some girl I was fucking. Sexual partners are like cars – You don’t want one everyone gets to use, you know?”

Jaehyun, who had up until this point been lying on the floor and playing idly with his Nintendo switch, sits up to look at Leehan. “You’re not talking about Y/N, are you?”

The first thought that comes to a surprised Leehan’s mind is what he said to have tipped Jaehyun off. Failing to think of any divertive lie, he decides there’s no harm in Jaehyun knowing, only wondering, “How’d you find out?”

“I saw her going into your room the night of my Halloween party,” he explains reasonably, before his voice and facial expression turn suddenly serious. “You shouldn’t talk about her like that. She’s going through a lot right now. She just failed all of her midterms and she might get kicked out of school.”

“Wait, really?” asks Leehan, who is hit with a sudden pang of deja vu as if he’s heard this before but doesn’t remember from where.

And then, it’s with a sudden and strong surge of embarrassment that he remembers the moment when he was feeling horny and decided to send you a dick pic, pressing the little blue arrow after only briefly glancing at the above messages.

“Oh shit. I think she told me that.”

Jaehyun laughs jeeringly, the resentful sound of which brings Leehan out of his own spiraling thoughts. “You’re an asshole, man,” he asserts, saying it in a way that’s so casual it’s as if it’s just a known fact.

Not an insult or a compliment, but simply a thing that’s true.

And somehow, the neutrality of it hurts worse.

“No offense, but I totally hope she forgets she ever met you.”

Hit by the irony of such cruel words being preceded by no offense, Leehan becomes sarcastic to avoid having to express the true hurt of being told that. “None taken. That seriously wasn’t offensive at all, Jaehyun.”

Maybe Jaehyun is right. After working so hard to emphasize the line between being fuckbuddies and being in a relationship, yet still finding himself acting the exact way he feared you would, isn’t asshole the only way to truly express how shitty he’s being about this?

It’s at that moment that Leehan considers that perhaps this relationship between the two of you has spiraled out of control.

Because something that should be inherently easy and casual has now caused him far too much regret and remorse for his liking.

Sitting in an empty classroom with Taesan, you share a cup of bubble tea, the drinking of which causes you to bump hands several times as you reach out to grab it at the same time.

Interacting with Taesan always brings up sweet and innocent feelings that are like that of childhood crushes, or chasing fireflies on your lawn after dark.

Fall break has long been over and yet you continue to meet with him even outside of your mandatory weekly check-ins, forgetting the anxiety that once plagued you over this arrangement.

The time you spend with Taesan is so fulfilling that you’ve managed to completely forget that Leehan hasn’t contacted you in almost a week.

Well, maybe not completely.

You still wonder from time to time what he’s thinking, if maybe he read the text message you sent prior to his dick pic and internalized the part where you emphasized how you wouldn’t have time for him anymore.

There is of course a tiny part of you that feels empty and abandoned at the idea of him ghosting you and never talking to you again.

But it’s in a stroke of optimism, feigned or otherwise, that you decide to pour your attention into someone who feels like a much better match for you, that someone being Taesan.

“I’m just about to finish with this assignment. After I’m done, do you wanna go to the caf?” you mumble out in inquiry to Taesan as you check over your quiz answers for the last time before submitting.

You hear him make a noncommittal noise in response, which you first interpret as disinterest, but only seconds later recognize to be absent-mindedness as you feel his eyes warming the side of your face.

You let out a chuckle, just about to say something teasing to him for being caught staring at you when a few warm fingers glide across your ear. Taken aback, you meet Taesan’s gaze as he tucks away a piece of your stray hair.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, holding your face in his hand. “You have this…faraway look in your eyes.”

Your eyes dart between his face and his hand that’s slow to come off of your ear, surprised by the sudden bit of physical contact.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you answer calmly if maybe a bit shakily, trying to appear normal though your head screams with a million passing thoughts at once. Taesan nods in acceptance of this answer before turning back to his laptop as if nothing happened.

If you were at all a gambling person, you’d bet good money that the telltale, suave move of tucking your hair behind your ear was a way for him to see how you’d react to something less platanotic from him.

And if you were to allow this moment to pass by without saying anything, you know that he would follow your lead and pretend like this never happened. He’d use your silence as evidence that his advances are unwelcome.

Perhaps you’re feeling a little bold, but you don’t want him to go any longer thinking that his interest isn’t reciprocated.

“Wait,” you remark, reaching out to grab Taesan’s wrist. “Taesan, can I kiss you?”

The usually mysterious, confident boy loses his ability to speak when you ask him that, eyes going wide and only nodding to communicate his consent. Finding his sudden shyness charming, you smile as you lean in to press your lips against his.

Taesan’s mouth is just as inviting as you thought it would be all the times you spent staring at it when you were sure he wasn’t looking. He may have acted shy just now, but the way that Taesan kisses you is like fire. He presses his mouth hard against yours, and when his body does the same you soon find yourself pressed into the rolling chair you’re sitting in.

Your hand moves up to tangle in his hair, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. You were sure that Taesan, ever the responsible one, would be the person between the two of you to pull away before things got too heated.

But now, all he does is lean in to your provocations, sticking his tongue into your mouth while you whimper against his.

And as you try to allow your brain to white out so that you can truly relax into the gratification he is sure to give you, all you can think about is how his lips are not Leehan’s lips.

His hands are not Leehan’s hands.

His kiss doesn’t evoke even a fraction of the electricity that Leehan does just by looking at you.

You accept then that self-preservation must be a confounding myth to your psyche, because against all odds, you are still very much into Leehan.

And while you could easily fuck Taesan anyway and let the enjoyment of his sex prove as a temporary salve to the gaping wound that is your feelings for Leehan, you feel too much like he doesn’t deserve to fuck someone with such selfish intentions.

So, it’s with both regret and sobering understanding that you pull Taesan away from you, lines of spit breaking into drool as you separate.

The two of you become temporarily frozen in a moment of both confusion and shock. Taesan, looking at you with widened eyes and reddened lips, asks in a small yet urgent voice, “What? Is something wrong?”

You already feel like a piece of shit as you loosen your grip on Taesan’s hair, letting your hands fall to your lap and noticing that his still rest on your waist. “Taesan…” you begin, and already at just the sound of his name, you can see his expression wilting, like he knows by the unsure tone of your voice exactly what you’re going to say. And how couldn’t he, when you suck so badly at giving bad news?

“I think you’re an amazing person. And believe me when I say I really, really wanted this between us,” you emphasize, wishing you could get swallowed up by a hole as he continues to stare at you in dumbfounded awe.

You know that these aren't words anyone wants to hear but you feel compelled to say them, feeling like Taesan deserves honesty from you.

“To be completely candid with you, the reason why I’m on academic probation is because of a guy. A recent guy who treated me like shit, but because I’m an idiot, I still want him.”

You wait on edge for the moment when Taesan’s disposition will return to that of the understanding, kind person you’ve come to know, the moment when you’ll both laugh at the awkwardness of this situation and allow yourselves to forget it ever happened.

Instead, though, all you see in Taesan’s eyes is a fiery passion that makes your head hurt as you realize he won’t let this rejection go down easily.

“You know that doesn’t matter to me right? We don’t have to…be all romantic, and shit. I’m fine with something casual. Happier with that, even.”

It’s with a pang of insecurity that you fight back a self-pitying laugh at those words, wondering what it is about you that makes men only want casual, no-strings-attached relationships with you.

“I’m sorry for making things awkward. And if you don’t want to tutor me anymore after this, I’d completely understand,” you concede in the nicest possible tone you can muster, still incredibly conscious of Taesan’s hands that have still not left your waist. “But I can’t do this, Taesan. You’re amazing but I just…I can’t, okay?”

When Taesan continues to stare at you as if he isn’t comprehending a word that’s coming out of your mouth, you reach down to move his hands off of your waist yourself, and when you do, you’re shocked when you feel his fingers seizing around your wrists to hold them in place.

“You’re being ridiculous, Y/N. So what if you’re not over your ex? That shouldn’t stop you from getting your rocks off,” he says, voice rising considerably as he squeezes your wrists so harshly it begins to hurt.

It’s at this moment that you realize you’ll never be able to look at Taesan the same again.

No longer the sweet, kind and helpful boy you first met, he looks pathetic and at worst, scary as he continues to refuse your rejection.

“Taesan, I’m really gonna need you to let go of me,” you request, saying it without any niceties as you manage to convince yourself that maybe he’s just taking this extra hard for whatever reason and just needs to hear you being serious so that he can come to his senses. “Listen, how about we end early for today and talk about this another time–”

“I’m not letting you leave until you can look me in my eyes and give me one good reason why we shouldn’t do this,” he asserts, still holding your wrists, laughing a little in a way that makes it hard for you to tell if he knows that he’s making you uncomfortable or thinks that this is all just some game of hard-to-get. “You can act coy all you want but I know you want me, I could tell as soon as I met you.”

“I’m gonna tell you to let go of me one more time, Taesan, and then I start screaming,” you threaten, no longer feeling amused or pitiful but instead angry, adrenaline running through your veins as you consider the possibility of having to physically attack him.

You’re not sure how things escalated so quickly but now you’re quickly regretting ever befriending Han Taesan in the first place, ever thinking that he could be a permanent fixture in your life.

Catching you by surprise, Taesan stands up suddenly from his chair and drags you up with him. It’s in a flurry of movements that he somehow manages to pin you against a wall, smirking down at you from above.

You let out a squeal but he covers your mouth, strong enough to use only one of his hands to keep your arms pinned above your head. He laughs as you struggle against him, perhaps not realizing – or worse, realizing it and getting off on how deeply he’s managed to scare you.

“What?” he asks through upturned lips, pressing his body into yours. “Don’t girls like it when guys don’t take no for an answer?”

It’s in the strangest and most serendipitous stroke of luck that you hear the sound of the classroom door swinging open.

And when you turn your head to meet the gaze of your savior, it’s Leehan who you see standing there, taking in the scene in front of him.

It feels stupid and random that of course it’s Leehan who just happened to be the person to walk in here, but you don’t dwell too much on the details, focused on the relief that floods through you knowing there’s someone here to intervene on your behalf.

Leehan hesitates momentarily as he wonders if he’s just had the misfortune to accidentally walk in on the kinky foreplay between you and this new guy you’ve been seeing. Attending a lecture in this same building, he happened to walk by the classroom and hear a distressed voice that sounded vaguely familiar.

Through the fogged glass material of the door, he could just barely make out your silhouette, instinctually barging in to see what was going on.

If Leehan didn’t know you so well, he might’ve immediately bolted at the sight of you engaging in intimacy with someone else. It would be too much and he knows it would force him to confront his conflicting feelings towards you.

But the moment he meets your gaze and sees the steely, ice cold fear that’s in your eyes, his next moves are made clear. Without questioning anything, he steps forward and punches an already staggering Taesan in the face.

The punch causes Taesan to fall backward, blood that you aren’t sure is coming from his lip or his nose splattering onto the floor. You and Leehan remain frozen, you in shock at both Taesan’s actions and Leehan’s sudden presence, and Leehan with the adrenaline of becoming unexpectedly violent.

It’s in that moment of stillness on both of your parts that Taesan has time to recover, and before you can react, he’s leaping forward to tackle Leehan onto a nearby desk.

You let out a squeal of shock as the two men struggle, causing desks and their chairs to fly around the room haphazardly in the process.

And to your horror, Taesan quickly gets the upper hand over Leehan, sitting on top of the shorter boy in a straddling position before letting his hands fly in a series of devastating punches.

You go to pull him off but he pushes you away, forcing you then to search frantically for your phone in the hopes of calling campus security before Leehan is pulverized any further.

“Hey, is something going o—” you hear an unfamiliar voice ask, and you look up to find that you’ve been discovered by a complete stranger, a boy who you assume is another student by his shaggy attire and backpack. He answers his own question by glancing into the room and catching sight of Taesan and Leehan who are both now bleeding as they remain wrestling on the floor.

You’re just about to enlist the stranger to help you in dragging Taesan off of Leehan when, suddenly, you don’t have to.

Realizing that the stranger’s presence could mean that even more people could arrive to inspect what’s causing all of this noise any second, you watch as the fear of getting in trouble overtakes Taesan’s expression until he’s getting up.

He gets up and sprints out of the classroom wildly, shoulder checking the stranger in the process as he flees out of the building.

“Should I run after him?” asks the student at the door who you’re sure is still processing what he’s just seen. But more than anything else, you’re worried about Leehan, who you just saw taking several punches to the face and is laying down on the ground making strangled, agonized noises.

“No. It’s better that you scared him away. I just need to get him to the infirmary,” you reply, trying to sound more calm and controlled than you feel but hearing how your adrenaline from the past few minute’s events causes your voice to come out shaky and broken. The stranger asks if you need any help but you wave him away, deciding it would be too much of a burden to have to explain what just happened to anyone else.

So it’s by yourself that you go to hover over Leehan’s body and try to push back the horror of seeing his face bloodied and bruised so that you can help him onto his feet.

And because most of the damage seems to be centralized on his face — maybe his back and head, too, after being tackled onto the ground — he mostly manages to stand up on his own. Though, once on his feet, he has to lean on you to avoid staggering.

“Don’t…let him…go, Y/N,” he mumbles, making you feel even more concerned and on edge as his garbled tone makes it sound like he’s one step away from passing out. “He was…hurting you, wasn’t he?”

“It’s fine, Leehan. Let’s just get you to the infirmary,” you reply dismissively, needing him to be pliant more than anything in this moment so that you can get him to your thankfully close by campus infirmary without issue.

Your transgression with Taesan with startling and for a brief moment, terrifying. But with him now gone, the majority of your distress lies with Leehan and making sure he’s okay.

And to your relief, as you take a few steps forward with Leehan’s arm leaned over your shoulder, he remains upright and mostly autonomous in his movements.

He continues to say nothing on your way out of the building outside from the occasional groan, and you’re sure that as the adrenaline wears off that the pain in his face must become more present. You luckily make it to the infirmary moments later, where the doctor on call takes one look at Leehan’s face and immediately rushes him into a care room.

Everything that happens after that is a bit of a blur for you. A campus security officer comes to take a statement from you. You tell him everything, giving him Taesan’s full name and picture in the hopes that it can lead to some type of action, although a part of you feels discouraged and numb at that notion.

You wait anxiously in the lobby of the infirmary, waiting for an update from the doctor and feeling like you’re gonna throw up when the older woman comes out from the hallway with a neutral, unreadable expression on her face.

“Hi ma'am. Your friend is doing just fine. All of the cuts on his face are superficial, so they’ll heal on their own. He’ll have some bruises and swelling, which will also go away with time. He does have a bit of a concussion, so we’ll send you both home with some Tylenol. If you’d like to come and see him, you can follow me.”

Though you figured that most of his injuries were minor, you still feel relieved to hear that nothing is significantly wrong; it’s irrational, but you know you would have been eaten alive with guilt had anything serious happened.

Getting up to follow the doctor, you walk into the care room to find Leehan sitting on the edge of an examination chair, a nurse still applying little white bandaids to a cut on his cheek. When he sees you come in he smiles, though only fleetingly as the gesture causes him to wince in pain.

You don’t know what to say to him, so you opt to sit down on a chair that’s directly next to his dangling legs. You watch as the nurse goes to prod at a separate wound on his lip with a q-tip dipped in brown liquid. You don’t realize how tense you are until you feel the warmth of a hand over yours, and when you look up, Leehan is staring at you in amusement.

“You’re shaking,” he observes, and though he can’t smirk without it causing him pain, he still gazes at you in a way that is teasing and smug. And the fact that he’s concerned about you when he’s the one who’s getting medical attention makes you let out a cynical, humorless laugh.

“Don’t worry about me. Look what he did to you.”

“I’m still good-looking, though, aren’t I?” he replies playfully, and because you’re so upset, you feel yourself almost inclined to scold him for making such jokes in light of the circumstances. But Leehan, never one to read the room or adhere to the tones and moods of others, is laughing as he commands, “You have to tell me or I’ll have an internal crisis.”

You stare at him with your eyebrows furrowed, wanting to be annoyed by him but not being able to help your smile as he continues to await your confirmation of his enduring looks with a pout.

Rolling your eyes, it’s with a bit of resistance in your voice that you reply, “Yes, you’re still handsome, Leehan.”

He pumps his fist up in the air triumphantly, and with that, the nurse leaves the room, telling you that she’ll return with the official paperwork needed so that he can be discharged.

Once she’s gone, it’s quiet between the two of you until Leehan breaks the silence with a question. “That guy…his name’s Taesan, right?”

You’re taken aback, both at the sudden change in his tone and disposition – his voice now serious and inquiring – and the fact that he even knows who Taesan is. “How do you know?”

“I saw you with him outside of your dorm. Asked Jaehyun who he is,” he responds plainly. And as you take in this information, you’re not sure what to say in reply. Even just knowing that he was outside of your dorm that day when Taesan came to your room and didn’t say anything makes you think he must’ve had some kind of reaction to seeing the two of you together.

And as you put the timing together, it makes sense why you hadn’t heard from him for a week until now.

But then again, it doesn’t make sense. Because the Leehan you know, the Leehan you’ve come to resent, surely wouldn’t — shouldn't — care to see you with another guy when he’s been so adamant about keeping things non-exclusive between the two of you.

“Are you together?” he asks when you remain silent, and in what feels like a complete switch in power dynamics, you find that Leehan is the one now clearly expressing some kind of worry or at the very least interest in what you get up to when you’re not with him.

And because you feel both vindicated to be on the other side of this sort of questioning, and not at all entitled to tell him the truth, you answer by asking, “If I said yes, what would you say?”

Leehan looks at you, all amusement absent from his expression even as he says somewhat sarcastically, “That I thought being with me meant you had better taste in men.”

His response causes you to scoff, the idea of him thinking that he’s somehow at a higher caliber than all the other similarly emotionally-unavailable men on your campus something you find absurd.

And yes, maybe it’s because you’re already feeling a little bitter towards him that you’re then replying scathingly, “If anything, wouldn’t my interest in you mean the opposite?”

“Funny,” he says sardonically in reply. The atmosphere between the two of you currently is tense. He resents you for being with someone else and you resent him for setting boundaries for your relationship that he never intended to follow.

And yet, despite the unresolved negative emotions that are clearly swimming between the two of you, it feels absurd and crazy to say that as you continue to make unbroken and silent eye contact, you feel like he’s about to kiss you.

That’s the sort of crazy chemistry you seem to have with one another, where even as you both have the rationality to recognize the toxicity of this dynamic you both still find yourselves magnetically pulled to one another in a way that, in most people’s eyes, would be viewed as mindless.

But it’s just as you swear he’s leaning in that the doctor comes into the room, handing Leehan a clipboard and telling him he can go once he’s finished filling out a few forms. You wait for him, not sure what will happen once you leave but feeling almost responsible to at least see him to his apartment.

And so, you exit the hospital together, and it’s as you’re walking out that you voice to him truthfully, “It feels weird just dropping you off like you didn’t just get your face rearranged trying to save me.”

He lets out a chuckle in response, swinging his body so that he’s standing in front of you before shrugging and saying, “Then don’t drop me off. We could go to your dorm, watch a movie.”

The request to do something as simple as watch a movie sounds so foreign coming out of his mouth that you can’t help but laugh out loud. “When do we ever watch a movie?” you ask, repeating the words in disbelief.

You’re mostly joking when you ask that, but it’s with a tiny pang of sadness that you acknowledge the tragedy of him wanting your company for something other than sex being something that’s so unbelievable.

“Today. Rocky V is probably ill-timed, but I love a good nature documentary,” he replies with a grin, and as always, you are unable to get a read on his expression to know if he is being serious or not.

But today has been a crazy day and you know that being in your room by yourself after everything that’s happened is only going to make you feel worse. So, deciding that there’s no harm in keeping him company for just a little while longer, you allow him to lead the way to the building that he’s been to so many times.

You know from learning your roommate’s schedule that she’ll be in a lab for the next 3 hours, a fact that makes you feel relieved as you enter your dorm with Leehan trailing behind you. He comes in and immediately collapses onto the couch, spreading his arms out on either side of the cushions in a way that brings renewed attention to his broad shoulders.

“So. Do you actually want to watch a movie?” you ask casually as you stand a few feet away from him, trying your hardest to keep any bitterness out of your tone as you watch him shrug his shoulders nonchalantly.

“You know, now that I’m here…” he says, already smirking as he watches you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “It feels like a much better idea for you to come sit on my lap.”

Even though you find yourself enticed by the invitation, in a small, distant part of your brain, it feels like you’ve been manipulated into letting him come to your room. That watching a movie had always been a lie to get you to have sex with him.

But something has changed inside of you, and from what, you can’t pinpoint. All you know is that the accumulations of lies and divertive tactics that you’ve endured from Leehan thus far has left you almost numb to his provocations.

Instead of feeling sad or shitty or upset, you just feel nothing.

And somehow, that change feels more concerning to you than the emotions from before did.

Still, you find yourself stalking silently to Leehan on the couch, his eyes never leaving yours as you make your way towards him. His legs spread naturally as you get between them, and it’s with a jaguar-like slowness that you crawl over his body until you’re straddling him.

Intensity rolls off of the both of your bodies like water, the silence and shared eye contact only contributing to the growing sexual desire that builds between the two of you.

In contrast to such lust, it’s in a gesture of affection that you lean in to lay a gentle, barely-there kiss against all of the wounds on his face. The cut on his cheek. His busted bottom lip. The knot forming on the top of his head. The bruise on the side of his jaw. You do it almost in apology but also because you want him to tease him, giving him only fleeting touches and kisses before you do anything substantial. He flinches at first at the contact but eventually relaxes into the softness of your lips against him.

And though you couldn’t articulate the reason why, you get the feeling that he flinches less out of pain, but more in surprise at the unfamiliar gesture of tenderness and how it impacts him.

You’ve only just reached his neck, sucking hickies into the pale skin there, when you can feel his cock hardening underneath you.

It’s after you’ve kissed every single piece of skin uncovered by his shirt that you decide to relieve a bit of his suffering by reaching a hand down into the waistband of his pants. All you do is close your fist around his shaft and stroke him languidly, but you suppose your teasing worked better than you thought as he whimpers at the simplest of movements. He bucks into your hand, not afraid of seeming desperate and shamelessly moaning at your touch.

Watching him writhe and shudder beneath you, sensitive in a way you’ve never seen before, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that this is one of the few times that you’ve felt even a semblance of control in your interactions during sex. It’s always been you on the receiving end of his endless repertoire of tactics, designed always to render you incomprehensible and under the thumb of his persuasion.

Spurred on by the observation, you take advantage of his submission to ask a question that’s been on your mind since you left the hospital.

“Can I ask you something? Why did you ask Jaehyun who I was with?”

You can just barely make out the expression of surprise that appears faintly behind Leehan’s glassy eyes, and in a tactic that even you admit is slightly contemptible, you never stop the movements of your hand as you await his answer.

Desperate for even a moment’s worth of vulnerability from him, you hope that by literally dangling his climax in your hands that he’ll be more inclined to be truthful with you.

But for Leehan, giving you the honest answer — that he’s simply a jealous person who can’t stand seeing you with someone else even though it’s hypocritical — would only serve in making you think that his jealousy is a sign of caring, his caring a sign of affection, his affection a sign that he wants to be your boyfriend.

And though that assessment isn’t as easy to refute as it may have once been when he first met you, it seems idiotic to put any ideas in your head that could lead to him having to admit feelings he isn’t quite sure of yet.

So, in lieu of the truth, he replies with something that, honestly, should be a bigger concern for him than it presently is: “Because you should tell me if you’re being intimate with someone else. What if you’re not using protection and I catch something?”

Up until now, you had prepared yourself to react calmly to whatever Leehan’s answer would be, a task you knew would be difficult because the idea of him being jealous at all is in itself insane and backwards.

It was he who insisted that this dynamic be free of any constraints or limitations.

But the fact that he’s implying you would have sex with someone else and be so reckless as to not make any precautions for your health has your composure breaking, a scoff leaving you as you blurt out, “Have you been honest with me about the people you’re seeing?”

It’s a question you already know the answer to as you still haven’t forgotten the night of the Halloween party, how Jaehyun let it slip that Leehan had been on a date. You’d never confronted him about it because, deep down, you felt that you had no right to.

But now, he’s placing judgment on you in a way that makes you want to throw all caution to the wind and express your true emotions to him for what seems like the first time.

Hearing the knowing tone in your question has Leehan worried, tilting his head to stare at you as if he’s just now seeing you for the first time. “Are you trying to catch me in a lie, Y/N?” he asks, amusement in his tone though you can tell your questioning rattles him. “I’ve never told you anything that wasn’t true.”

But that’s just because you’ve never told me anything of substance, you think to yourself, reflecting back on all of the times he left your room in a hurry so that he could avoid having to show you anything real.

You continue jerking him off intently, and even though he’s obviously enjoying it, you can tell that you’ve thrown him off. During sex you’ve always maintained this sort of scathing, playful banter, but this time, he knows that your question is motivated by a genuine desire to hear the truth from him. It makes him beyond uncomfortable, especially with his dick still hard and aching in your moving hand. In a sudden change of dynamics, it’s him trying to read what you’re thinking.

Seeing this crack in Leehan’s usually guarded persona spurs you on into saying even more things that you’ve been suppressing. “I know that you’re seeing someone else,” you assert, honesty you never thought you’d be capable of expressing coming out boldly and without ambivalence. “Jaehyun told me, the night of the Halloween party.”

Your eyes are glued to Leehan’s face as you scan for the smallest fluctuation in his expression, searching desperately for any indication of what he’s thinking. And in yet another gesture that might as well be a verbal admission of guilt, Leehan stares up at the ceiling to avoid your gaze.

Leehan – confident, cool, teasing Leehan – who has always made you feel like you were scared of intimacy for not wanting to make eye contact with him during sex, is now the one shying away the intensity of your gaze.

The feeling of triumph that comes with finally feeling like you have him at your mercy after months of the opposite has you speeding up the movements of your hand, watching as he almost winces from the overstimulation you provide.

But more than anything else, you want answers.

You want to know why he thinks it’s okay to police who else you invite into your bedroom when he clearly does whatever he wants without any regard for you.

You want him to decisively and plainly decide if he’s either a sadistic asshole who believes that he should be able to treat you like shit while he goes out and fucks whoever he wants—Or if, like you, the passion of this relationship has overwhelmed him so much that he now finds himself feeling things for you that are beyond sexual, things that have caused him to abhor the notion of you being with someone other than him.

It feels like you need the answer to that question more than you need air.

And so, it’s in desperation that your voice comes out shaky as you demand, “Say something.”

“I can’t,” he manages through gritted teeth, the sound of his voice coming out raspy and submissive making your cunt pulse with arousal. “You’re about to make me come.”

Feeling like he’s being backed into a corner, Leehan wants to tell you to stop, but the euphoria he’s experiencing is too great. He’s never seen you be so assertive, so purposeful in doing things that you know will make him go crazy.

Rubbing your thumb over his tip. Spitting downward so that the wetness of your spit can reach his cock. Stroking him wildly and meeting his thrusts into your fist.

Pressure builds in his abdomen until he feels himself about to explode with what might be the most intense climax of his life.

But in a move that shocks the both of you, it’s just as Leehan is about to finish all over your hand that you abruptly pull off of him.

Stop the movements of your hand and watch brazenly as the realization of what you just did is processed on his face.

Maybe he thought that you were joking and that this was all just some aggressive manner of foreplay.

But now, he can see in your shocked expression, how you look so surprised at even your own insistence, that to deny him of his pleasure in this way was something that took a lot out of you.

It’s been a hallmark of your relationship so far for you to devote yourself to his satisfaction. You’ve always cared so much about being wanted by him, even after he’s shown his disregard for you time and time again.

And so to see you work up the courage to defy him in this way makes it clear to him that you’re not gonna drop this.

This isn’t something that he can smile or flirt his way out of in the hopes of having you wrapped around his finger for just one more day.

You’re gonna force this into being an issue. And fine; if you want to have this conversation, he’ll have it.

Even if it means that by the end of this you'll realize how shitty of a person he is and want nothing to do with him afterward.

If you were still the same pliant, conflict-avoiding Y/N, you’d be alarmed at the change in his expression and how his usual amused smirk melts into a straight-lined frown. You’d transform into the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed girl who’d laugh and pretend that this was all just a way to rile him up into fucking you, hoping that you could forget this moment ever happened.

But it feels like something has been lost in your dynamic that can never be brought back. You’re no longer okay with being lied to, manipulated. And Leehan, realizing how serious you are, seeks to take back control of this situation by flipping your bodies over so that you’re on your back and he’s on top of you.

He pins your arms above your head, holding them down so you can’t move.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to hear the answers to.”

He says the statement with a warning sort of tone but it only makes you laugh, no longer able to take his provocations and vague answers seriously. “Then don’t try to act hypocritical and treat me like I’m a fucking irresponsible idiot,” you retort, no hint of banter in your words as you hope he understands how serious you’re being, how done you are with his lies. “Having sex with guys without protection and not telling them about it. How do I know you haven’t been doing the exact thing you’re accusing me of?”

You ask a valid question that Leehan sees no way to get out of answering. Clearly, you already know (because of his disloyal, talkative fucking roommate) that he’s been seeing at least one girl that isn’t you. And because he can tell with certainty that your pliance is dependent on at least some kind of honesty from him, he tells you a technical truth when he says, “Since I met you, I’ve only been fucking you. No one else. I swear.”

It’s an answer that protects him from having to further delve into whether he’s seeing anyone else romantically, an important distinction that he isn’t interested in clarifying for the sake of your continued interest in him.

And as he watches you scan his face, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you seek to find any indication of either sincerity or hypocrisy in his expression, he seizes the opportunity provided by your momentary lapse in questioning to reach past the waistband of your leggings, sticking two fingers into your pulsing cunt.

He watches with satisfaction as even in your bitterness, you still can’t help the way your back arches and your mouth parts naturally at the action. Mirroring your tactics from before, he gives you great satisfaction in exchange for your hopeful compliance. Thrusting his long fingers inside of you, he mumbles in sensual truth, “Your pretty, wet pussy is the only thing that’s been occupying my brain for the last three months.”

The part of your brain that would question the credibility of his words is turned off like a lightswitch as the thrill from his fingers takes over. As much as you try to fight off what you’re experiencing so that you can regain the upper hand, it feels like it’s almost in revenge that he fingers you with such vigor that you can’t speak.

“Can you say the same? Huh, pretty?” he demands, digits angled just right so that the tips of his fingers repeatedly push against your most sensitive parts. “Tell me I’m the only person whose been fucking orgasms into your cunt.”

You could usually appreciate such possessive sentiments from Leehan when they were spoken in moments where there wasn’t any lingering resentment between the two of you. Now, they only annoy you, causing you to petulantly reply in mocking of his earlier words, “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”

And in a move that is surely in imitation of your earlier actions, he pulls his fingers out of you completely and with them, your orgasm. His expression is a handsome mixture of annoyance and frustration.

It feels like the two of you are in some sort of scornful, unspoken competition, you trying to get him to be honest and him trying to get you to drop this entirely. And all of this undercut by the fact that both really wanna fuck each other, only adding to the frustration of your pleasure being taken away.

Though your body reels regretfully from the sudden drop in adrenaline, it’s with an unmoved expression on your face that you sit up, making yourself level with him.

“What?” you retort derisively, amused to find him upset at tactics you only know because he modeled them for you so many times before. “Does it make you mad?”

“No,” he answers, a fierce expression on his face that lets you know despite the desire radiating between the two of you that he’s being serious when he says, “It makes me question the type of person you are.”

And as you poke his chest assertively, you reply, “A person abiding by the standards that you set,” reminding him once more how he lacks the right to feel entitled to your body.

You again question why he continues to insist that a no-strings attached arrangement is what he wants when it’s clear he doesn’t want you with anyone else.

And so, it’s in your confusion that you ask, “I’m giving you exactly what you want. So why does it feel like you’re punishing me?”

“This isn’t what I want,” he says in reply. And the way that he says it almost quietly, like a stream-of-consciousness that was accidentally blurted out loud, has you inclined to believe that maybe, he’s finally coming around to seeing just how poorly suited this arrangement is for the both of you.

So, it’s with a curious tilt to your voice that you ask, “Then what do you want?”

Looking at you with a sort of urgent, unyielding expression on his face, it’s after a moment of intense and searing silence between the two of you that he leans in to kiss you roughly. What was once a moment of willful competition between the two of you now becomes intense and panicked as the passion of the last few moments takes over your bodies.

Your hands move in a frenzy as you rush to take off one another’s clothes, and you get the feeling that had the fabric provided any real obstacle, you both would’ve been willing to rip each other’s pants and tops off. Actualizing your desire for one another becomes the most important and serious task to have ever been endeavored upon.

You’ve only just removed your final article of clothing when Leehan crawls between your legs, finding you soaked and pulsing in anticipation of his touch. Noticing this, he can feel himself going crazy with all of the unanswered questions he has about you and Taesan. He finds himself vocalizing these thoughts shamelessly as he mumbles, “Fuck, Y/N. I need you to be honest with me. Because if someone else has had this pussy, I’m gonna go crazy.”

“Make me come, and I’ll give you a straight answer,” you defiantly reply.

Tired of your games, it’s in expression of his growing impatience that Leehan slaps your pussy uncaringly. The act sends a jolt of shock through your body but especially your clit, making you moan in a mixture of both pain and pleasure.

“I’m serious, Y/N,” he says, and rather than being amused by his insistence like you were before, it's for the first time that you find yourself intimidated, as well as turned on. “Tell me the truth.”

Leehan has always been the leader in your sexual dynamic, but you’d never describe him as rough or dominant until now. Rattled by the change, you aren’t able to manage a reply to his demand, but it’s then that Leehan raises himself up so that your faces are level.

Making sure to keep his eyes on yours this time, he pushes three fingers inside of your aching cunt — more than you’ve ever taken from him and enough to have your eyes rolling back upon impact.

“Tell me that this pussy is mine,” he demands as he fucks you open with his fingers. You’ve never seen him this fired-up, this crazed, and it has you more turned on and pliant than you think you’ve ever been before.

His fingers thrust in and out of you with strength you’ve never felt before, and in an amount of time that you find to be pathetic, you can feel your stomach tensing with an approaching climax, moans leaving your mouth with every breath and every curl of his fingers.

But for the second time tonight, Leehan notices you’re about to come and rips it away from you by withdrawing his fingers entirely. And unlike before, you can’t pretend not to be dismayed as you whimper wistfully at the loss of contact. Leehan, unamused, only stares at you from above and says with finality in his tone, “Tell me the truth, and I’ll make you come.”

You can see now how serious he’s being, how important this is to him, and though you find it entirely irrational, the pulsing of arousal in your body is too strong to ignore.

“I never fucked him. He never touched me until today.”

“And anyone else besides him?”

“There’s no one else, Leehan,” you assure him, body wracked with the weight of several heavy breaths as you practically beg for him to believe you, to touch you, to relieve the almost painful aching of your cunt. “Just you.”

You’re pleasantly surprised when he doesn't require any additional scrutiny before accepting your answer at face value, muttering an approving “Good girl,” before diving between your legs.

And you guess by the almost hungry, desperate way he then proceeds to eat you out that his easy acceptance of your word is just as much in service to his own desire to taste you as it is to you and your enjoyment.

Because you find not just in this instance but always that Leehan gives head like his survival is dependent on your arousal. He licks and sucks and mouths at your clit, moaning languidly into your core like it's the best thing he’s ever tasted.

And as if that’s not enough to have you reeling, he brings his hand out from underneath your thigh and puts two long, crooked fingers back into your dripping hole, thrusting and curling them inside of you like he’s intent on finding the spot that will make you scream. You throw your head back and close your eyes at the feeling that washes over your body, something like electricity pulsing through you and making your legs shake.

Without intending it, your hips buck against his tongue in chase of your impending orgasm. And when he flattens the wet muscle, allowing you the agency to take your pleasure rather than him having to give it to you, it’s only seconds later when you feel your abdomen contracting with the intensity of your long awaited orgasm.

You’ve barely recovered from the high of your climax when you hear Leehan saying tauntingly from above you, “See? No one else can do that as good as I can.” He then spreads your legs apart, admiring the mess he’s made of you, slick turning your inner thighs shiny and wet. ”Don’t you know now why you shouldn’t fuck anyone else?

Refusing him the satisfaction of an answer, your only response is to sit up and tell him, “Lay down. I wanna ride you.

Leehan’s only show of resistance to this request is a raise of his eyebrow, but he’s otherwise pliant as you maneuver on the couch so that he’s flat on his back. You hover just below his hard-as-a-rock erection, realizing you should go and get a condom, but it feels like an ultimate test of both your honesty that you assertively inform him, “I’m on birth control.”

Understanding what you mean to imply with this admission, you watch as Leehan’s eyes gloss over, another wave of lust taking over at the notion of having raw sex. In a distant part of your brain that isn’t completely corrupted by wanting, you wonder if this is a good idea given that you have no way of proving whether he’s been honest about his sexual history with other girls.

But as you unconsciously scoot closer and allow his cock to brush against your folds, his encouragement of “Then sit on it,” ringing pleasantly in your ears, the only thing that delays you is your desire to further tauny him.

“Look at me,” you command passionately, holding on just barely to your own composure as you fight to get these words out amidst your own lust-corrupted brain. “If you stop, I stop. I want you to look in my eyes when I make you come.”

Leehan, either ignorant to how serious you’re being or uncaring, whimpers out your name in lieu of any indication that he understands and accepts what you’re saying. You sink down on him anyway and allow the feeling of being filled to the brim by his long, veiny cock to wipe out any and all thoughts out of your mind.

“Oh my god, fuck,” he mumbles out in expression of how good it feels, after you’ve only just began bouncing your body up and down his cock. You bear witness to the moment when the embrace of your tight walls becomes too much for him and he throws his head back, disregarding your words from earlier.

And although it hurts you to do so, makes your thighs burn and your lips part to let out a regretful whimper, you pull yourself upwards until his cock slips out of you completely.

“Open your eyes,” you demand assertively, not just for his sake but for your own, so that you can go back to riding the life out of him until you both can come. “Show me why you deserve this. Remind me why I keep letting you fuck me.”

The scathing remark and the brazen expression you wear as you say it causes Leehan to regain his focus, returning his gaze to yours and making sure to maintain it even as your reinsertion of his cock has him fighting not to shut his eyes closed. It’s with a feeling of regretful foreboding that Leehan realizes this is probably going to end way too soon, that the sickening combination of you riding him, your dominant and sultry words, the view of your body from above him, and the intense unbroken eye contact all work in service to his quickly approaching climax.

And even as you too feel yourself inching closer and closer to the point of incomprehensible return, you keep talking, feelings that you’ve been suppressing for too long coming out in sultry, brokenly-spoken expressions. “I want you to savor this moment. Memorize how it feels to be inside of me,” you tell him, and then, leaning down to bite the tip of his ear, you whimper, “Fuck Leehan. You’re so big.”

Your purposeful usage of all the things you know for a fact rile him up the most is not lost on him, and it’s almost like you want him to come as quickly and embarrassingly as possible. He lingers on that thought for less than a few seconds, but even just the fleeting idea of spilling his seed inside of you has his brain entering a whole nother level of depraved and uncontrolled, until he’s muttering out the word “Fuck,” in repeated succession and thrusting up into you wildly. “Gonna come,” he announces only seconds later.

“I know you are, baby. And when you do, remember that I can only make you feel this good,” you reply, surprised at your own ability to sound assured and in control in the midst of your own fast-approaching orgasm. But in a way, it feels like you grow more confident the more you watch his verbal and motor skills deteriorate with every bounce and squeeze of your pussy against his cock.

Making grunting sounds as his thrusts become sloppy and uncontrolled, he replies through gritted teeth, “I know. You’re my favorite girl, Y/N.”

You’ve always hated that term because of the implication it makes that there are other girls with whom he's comparing you to. But as you commit to fighting off all of the weak, vulnerable, sad emotions that have now only rendered you numb, it’s in another show of control that you reply, “Then say it. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

At first, you aren’t sure if Leehan can even manage a reply as you watch him grow focused and intent on his approaching orgasm. But it’s through a mixture of muffled grunts and whines, his hips never ceasing their thrusts into you, that he begins to speak.

“Your pussy was made for me. It’s all I ever think about. The sex we have – nghh – it’s the best I’ve ever had,” he tells you emphatically.

And the brokenness of his words, the way they come out rushed and passionate as if a suppressed part of him needs you to hear them, has you feeling profoundly impacted by the weight of them.

“You make me crazy, Y/N. I don’t want anyone else. Only you—”

It’s with one final rough, definitive thrust that Leehan comes inside of you. You’re overcome by the feeling of his hot, warm cum filling your walls, pussy clenching around him as you too experience another orgasm. And as you both recover from your highs, you can feel the atmosphere becoming almost instantaneously stuffy and awkward, the realization of what just happened and all of the things you allowed to come out in the heat of the moment hitting you all at once.

Wanting nothing more than to be released from the clutches of this regretful moment, you pull yourself off of him and wince at the feeling of his cum dripping out of you and onto your inner thighs, some of it spilling onto the couch.

And without ceremony, Leehan does what he does best – he gathers his clothes and things and begins to put them on as if nothing happened.

The silence that overcomes the two of you as you sit naked and uncovered on the opposite couch, watching him change, is unlike either of you. You’d usually at the very least manage a few words about how good that was, or small talk about anything fun happening soon on campus. Had Leehan been any good with silence, he might’ve just walked out and not said anything to you at all.

But it’s because of his own manipulative and egotistical desire to continue to remain in your good graces that he says, in desperation to ease the tension, “Hey. By the way, I’m sorry about the picture I sent you. I don’t usually read your messages, so I didn’t see what you had sent me beforehand.”

You stare at him, a mixture of disbelief and hostility coming over you all at once.

Having completely forgotten about the dick picture incident until now, you feel the emotions from then coming back up in a way that feels shocking given the relative inoffensiveness of his apology just now.

It’s hard for you to pinpoint what exactly about the statement sets you off.

Maybe it’s that you just had the most intimate, soul-baring sex, and now he’s basically back to reminding you of just how little he values you and your personhood.

How easy it is for him to completely ignore anything you say to him if it has nothing to do with him and his own pleasure.

And with these emotions more than likely reflected on your face, you watch as Leehan — like a startled deer in headlights — makes what are perhaps the quickest efforts he’s ever done to leave your dorm in a hurry.

“I should get back,” he’s replying coldly as he gets up, throwing his jacket over his body so fast that it folds awkwardly along his sides. “But thanks for this.”

This, he says casually. As if his seed isn’t currently wetting the inside of your legs right now.

“But Leehan, the rain—” you insist. Because you can hear thunder rattling your windows outside and you know that to walk home to his apartment is an entirely irrational notion.

“Don’t worry about me,” he tells you, already halfway to your door as he turns around to look at you, something like regret painted all over his passive expression. “We don’t do that for each other, remember?

And it’s with that last parting, ominous statement that you watch Leehan leave your dorm room without another look in your direction. He’s left your room like this — in a hasty blur without a word or an acknowledgement — more times than you can possibly count.

So why you find yourself overcome with the feeling that this may be the last time you’ll ever see him again, you’re not entirely sure.

But it’s because of that gnawing, persistent feeling, eating at you like it never has before, that you get up and find a robe to throw over your body so that you can go and find Leehan before it’s too late.

You’re not even sure of what you’re going to say when you find him standing on the outside porch of your building, head down and phone in his hand as he waits for an Uber. All you know is that it’s pouring buckets outside and even with the bit of roofing over your heads, the wind still blows rain onto your bodies, rendering his hair and face wet.

“Leehan,” you call out, watching as he turns to you and automatically freezes up as he realizes you followed him out here. “Wait. Don’t go.”

It’s at least a little bit understandable why Leehan appears taken-aback by your words and your presence — any other time you’ve had sex, you’ve never once tried to get him to stay behind, even though he could always notice in your expression or quiet intensity that you wanted him to.

So the fact that you’re here telling him not to go, and because of the nature of the sex you just had, it’s like he already knows that you’re planning to pour your heart out to him, and it’s in fear of that that he finds himself saying wearily, “Y/N—”

“No. Let me talk,” you assert before he can finish, a part of you feeling like if you don’t get these words out now, you never will. And so, fueled by the unexplainable feeling that this may be the last chance for you to tell him how you feel, you channel all the confidence you can possible muster and allow all the suppressed emotions from the last three months to spill out without any filter.

“After we have sex, I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay because you like being with me. I want you to fall asleep with me. I want you to see me and treat me like I’m a human being and not some physical object that you use for sex and nothing else,” you exclaim with a self-pitying scoff.

“And I tried being the chill girl who just goes along with things that are casual. But Leehan, you make me feel things that no one ever has, and it’s not just the sex. For the past few months…it’s felt like my life only truly felt worth living if you were noticing me.”

You can plainly tell by Leehan’s stiff body language and overall lack of reaction that this entire spiel is making him uncomfortable. And as discouraging as the reaction is, now that you’ve started, it feels like you can’t stop until he knows everything that he’s put you through to get to this point.

“And maybe I only feel that way because when we fuck, it’s not like some one-night-stand or throwaway shit. It truly feels like I’m baring my soul to you. And I know that it’s not one sided,” you remark with confidence. Because being in bed with Leehan is the only time when you feel like you can truly understand him. It’s when your hearts, minds, and bodies are in sync and you can both be at your most vulnerable with each other.

“But then you leave, just like you’re doing now. And it makes me feel like the most massive piece of shit you can possibly imagine,” you mumble out with a broken, wet laugh.

Coming to the end of your spiel, you let your arms come down to your sides defeatedly, and with one last imploring look to Leehan’s blank and starry eyes, you ask the question that has been haunting you for the better part of three months now. “So what I guess I want to know is…what is it that’s stopping you from going all in with me? Is it that I’m just…not enough for you to want anything more than sex?” you question, insecurities that have been welling up for so long coming out in a way that has your voice sounding broken. “Or are you just too scared of commitment to allow yourself to feel loved?

“Because that’s exactly what I feel for you. And god dammit, Leehan, but I’m almost 80% sure you feel that way for me too.”

When you’re sure that there’s nothing else left to say and that you got everything you wanted to explain out, it’s with a relieving sigh that your body expels the weight of three months’ worth of pain, sadness, and thoughts of worthlessness.

And because you know it must be a lot to be on the receiving end of the heaviness of those words, it’s not surprising that the next few seconds after you finish speaking are filled by silence. Watching Leehan stare at you intensely, you allow him the time and the grace to process what he’s heard before you jump to assuming the worst of his silence.

But then, his first words to you hit you like an icy blast of wind.

“Y/N, you’re a good person. And the time we’ve spent together has been so much fun for me. But this has always been just that for me…fun. Sex,” he says unambivalently, framing the words delicately though it does nothing to prevent them from hitting you like a freight train. “And I’m sorry if I ever did or said anything that gave you an impression otherwise.

“But honestly, Y/N…” he continues, looking away from you and losing the ability to sugarcoat his thoughts as he expresses, “I told you from the forefront what this was. Why did you say yes if it wasn’t what you wanted?”

He asks a valid question that you unfortunately don’t have the answer to. Because honestly, what were you thinking? Looking back at that moment when he first proposed this arrangement, you have to wonder what possessed you to be delusional enough to think that this would possibly end well.

As embarrassing and humiliating it is to admit, it’s the sex. All those times he told you he desired you, how beautiful you were, how much he wanted you, made you feel like maybe he just didn’t know what he wanted. That eventually he’d come around.

“Because I didn’t think that it was that important to you,” you tell him, feeling your confidence shrinking in real time as your voice comes out quiet and whiny. “I thought…I thought you were changing your mind.”

“I don’t think we should keep doing this, Y/N,” he declares in reply, looking down at the ground in embarrassment. “I like you a lot, but I can’t continue on if I know you have the expectation that this is gonna blossom into something more. I’m sorry, but it’s just not.”

And with that last sobering pronouncement, Leehan runs a hand through his hair, an obviously fake chuckle let out of his lips as he seeks to break the awkwardness of this atmosphere. “This really wasn’t how I wanted this to go,” he mumbles out apologetically, and the way that he stands there stiffly lets you know he wants nothing else than to get away from you right now.

And sure enough, the sound of a notification going off draws both of your attention to his phone. Like a final dagger to your heart and self-esteem, he’s not even able to hide the relief that floods his expression as he announces, “My Uber’s here, so I just…goodbye, Y/N.”

You watch Leehan step off the porch and into the rain, the lack of light and storm clouds rendering him into nothing more but a blurry, gray silhouette.

It’s how you will more than likely remember Leehan as you watch him enter the white Mazda that pulls into the driveway.

Watch the car drive off knowing that you will more than likely never see him again.

He will forever be immortalized in your brain as the stormy force of a presence that came into your life like a tornado, wrecking everything around it and exiting like nothing happened, leaving you a splintered mess of a world to clean up for yourself.

You will be just another Natty, someone Leehan offhandedly mentions to his friends in the car with whoever he chooses to be his next victim, someone he spent a good few weeks with only to never mention them again.

“You’re an enigma, Kim Leehan,” you declared with sincerity. “I don’t want to be your girlfriend either. No offense.”

“None taken,” he replied with breezy indifference, bringing his hand to lay over the one you have on his face. “But don’t say that so easily. You don’t know me well enough yet.”

You rolled your eyes at yet another show of cockiness from him. “And are you saying if I did, I would fall for you?”

Even as his expression remained passive, he replied forebodingly, “Isn’t that usually how these things end?”

He was right.

The next two months of not seeing, talking, or hearing from Leehan go by in a gray-ish, incomprehensible blur.

You complete your classes, managing a passing GPA and thankfully holding on to your scholarship.

You go out to lunch and on study dates with your mutual friends, neglecting to explain why you always need to know who else is coming before you agree to going out.

You attend a couple parties and events on campus, wondering each time whether you’ll run into Leehan and not sure if the rigid feeling over your chest is because of hopefulness or fear at the idea of possibly seeing him.

And as you pack up your things to get ready to move out for the winter, it feels like you should be over this by now. You spent three months together. Tumultuous, but still only three – it doesn’t seem to make sense why you still feel so hurt.

But you’re now learning that situationships are the hardest to comprehend in their aftermath because it’s hard to know what exactly it is that you’re feeling wistful towards. Leehan isn’t your ex, but he’s also not a friend whom you simply grew apart from.

He’s another third thing that you can’t quite capture, making it difficult for you to reminisce on your exciting yet tainted memories with one another.

It’s with these thoughts running through your mind that you finish packing your last few items of furniture, readying them to be stowed away in the back of a U-Haul you rented for the day.

And with your dorm now basically empty, your roommate having moved out a few days before, you can’t help but to view it nostalgically from the vantage point of your doorway, memories of this semester’s escapades coming back to you all at once.

The dresser that you let Leehan stash his condoms in.

Your cheap bed whose loose, metal springs always robbed you of any chance at secrecy in your interactions.

Moving towards your kitchenette, you stare silently at the flowers he gifted you that one day, still alive despite several weeks of neglect. The little cardboard fish he stuck between the petals makes it appear almost like they’re swimming among colorful, sagging coral reefs.

Your eyes flit over to your couch, where you didn’t know at the time would be the last place he fucked you before he’d never talk to you again.

Going over these memories in your mind, it makes sense then why when you hear a knock resounding on your door, the first thing you think of is Leehan.

But surely, you’re just caught up in the emotions caused by the sudden moment of reflection; it has to be an RA, or a neighbor about to ask if they can borrow a broom and dustpan.

When you go to open your door, you don’t consider for a second that on the other end could be the one person you’re not prepared to see right now.

So when it swings open and you’re greeted by a straight-faced, wide-eyed Leehan, whose body is relaxed against the side of your door, it feels like all of the air is knocked out of your body.

“Hi,” he says plainly, straightening his posture when he sees you staring at him staggeringly. To say that you feel conflicted as you take in his handsome, tall form would be beyond an understatement. It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long since you’ve seen each other, and it’s almost like he could tell you right now that he’s here because he wants to fuck you and it would feel normal, like nothing has changed between the two of you.

But even in just making that mental observation, you feel angry and resentful that such a dynamic was normalized among the two of you for so long that you convinced yourself it was okay to be treated that way.

And as you stew in those feelings of renewed bitterness and frustration, you find yourself suddenly and strongly opposed to him being here, asking bluntly, “What is this? Why are you here?”

“I’m here to apologize,” he answers with an imploring look, and habitually you study his expressions in the hopes of discerning whether he’s being sincere or not.

But it’s with a feeling of resignation that you realize how done you are with trying to constantly read his mind and understand what motivates his decisions.

Because the same way there’s a chance that he really did show up here with good intentions, there’s just as equal a chance that he wants you to trust him again so that he can get his dick wet.

And so, in a move that brings you an immature level of satisfaction, you close the door on his face without another word.

You hear him exclaiming loudly “Y/N, wait!” on the other side of the door but you’ve already made up your mind, deciding that whatever he has to say isn’t worthy of your time or attention.

You’re done with his manipulative behavior, with his aloofness and undeserved self-assuredness, but most of all you’re tired of being made to feel like shit. And that’s all he ever did in those few months that you were sleeping together.

As you retreat to your bedroom, you go to return to packing your things, but the adrenaline from the passing moment makes your hand shake and your body pulse energetically. You need a second to pause and breathe and process what’s just happened, to walk around and pace away all of this unresolved energy.

But then you turn around to go back out into your living room, and that’s when you see Leehan standing right outside the arch of your bedroom doorway.

“Jesus fucking christ, Leehan!” you exclaim in a mixture of both surprise, frustration, and confusion as you wonder whether he broke in or if you—

“You left the door unlocked,” he replies calmly, and even though he knows he has a lot to make up for, he still can’t help the smirk that comes to his face as he jokes, “Kinda 101 not to do that if you don’t want someone coming in. That’s like me leaving the filter of my fish tank —”

“Get out, Leehan. Get out! I have nothing left I want to say to you!” you shout, impatient and uncaring to his jokes and his dimples and everything else about him that used to charm you. It’s all meaningless to you now, and you don’t care if you look crazy or unhinged when you go to physically push him out of your dorm.

But even with the nonchalant, noncommittal way he holds onto your wrist to restrain you, you still only manage to move him a few steps, much to your dismay and rage.

And so, in a heat-of-the-moment, emotionally driven decision, you move to close your bedroom door on his face. While successful in keeping him out of your bedroom, you don’t even realize until seconds later that he’s still free to roam in your hallway, kitchenette, and living room, while you’ve essentially just locked yourself in.

Predictably, you can hear Leehan chuckling outside of your door as he makes this same realization.

“You know, if it was your goal to get me to leave, then I’m not sure locking yourself in your room really…” he begins to say, not able to keep the amusement out of his voice at the foolish mistake on your part. But, remembering the reason why he came here in the first place, he tones it down to say soberly, “Nevermind. It doesn't matter.”

You walk over to the side of your bedroom that’s opposite from the doorway, sitting down on the floor, determined to tune out whatever it is that Leehan is about to say. Maybe if you stay silent and let him tire himself out, he’ll eventually leave knowing that there’s nothing he can say to make up for how he’s made you feel.

“I”m not super good at explaining myself, or talking at all, honestly. I go on tangents and my mind is just…a giant fucking minefield. So I wrote down what I wanted to tell you.”

Leehan’s voice is distorted but nonetheless able to be heard clearly through the thin wood that makes up your door, so much so that you can clearly hear the crumpling noises of a paper being unraveled as he starts to read.

“If you’re listening to me read this, it’s because I somehow managed to convince you to hear me out. Either that, or I broke into your dorm, which feels like the more likely option,” he says with almost no emotion behind the words, and against your own discipline, you can feel your lips twitching into a smirk automatically in reaction to his strange, off putting way of speaking.

“I know my insistence can come off as crass given how shitty of a person I’ve been to you. But I knew that today was move-out day, and I needed you to hear me out before you left.”

You hear him take a deep breath before continuing with the next part of his speech. “As you know, I’m a pretty fearless person. But when it comes to admitting my feelings for you, I’ve had a much harder time. Truthfully, since I met you, it’s been because of my own immaturity that I’ve seen other girls romantically. Even though I always knew my feelings for you were different, I pushed them away in the hopes of avoiding having to commit to anyone. When you told me how you really felt for me, truthfully, it scared me. I didn’t want to know what my life would look like if I decided to be with just one person.

“I thought that by rejecting you, by being away from you for this long, that my feelings for you would go away,” he remarks with the same sort of unfeeling, neutral tone to his voice, as if he knows the explanation behind his actions is unimportant given how they’ve impacted you. “I wanted to view you as just another name on a long list.”

But it’s with his next words that passion and sincerity and longing bleed into his voice all at once to say, “But it’s taken me this time of being away from you to realize that…I’m still not over you.”

After minutes of hanging onto his every word despite every inclination that has been telling you to do otherwise, it’s those last five words that hit you like a freight train.

And you know it’s foolish and dumb to be believing anything that comes out of his mouth anymore, but you suppose it’s no different from all of the other times you continued to let him in even when he showed you so many times why you shouldn’t.

Your reasoning remains the same – you just feel an irrational pull to him that is all-consuming, your heart connected to his in a way you can’t control.

And it doesn’t help that everything he says next is all of the affirmation you’ve been wanting and needing him to give you throughout your entire time of sleeping together. “You deserve someone that’s going to treat you with respect. Someone that makes you feel loved and beautiful and desired. Someone with the courage to be vulnerable and who will care for you in your most vulnerable moments. And I’m sorry if you felt like you didn’t have that with me,” he remarks, and you don’t even realize you’ve been holding your breath throughout his spiel until your chest literally contracts from the lack of air to your lungs.

“But if you can find some way to forgive me, then I want to make us work,” he asserts pleadingly. And with the finality that it feels like follows that statement, you get the feeling that what he says next is no longer being read off the paper.

Especially when you can hear what you think is the top of his head, leaned against the door with a small thunk as he quietly laments, “I want you, Y/N. Not just sexually, but for everything that makes you who you are. It’s always been you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.”

It’s quiet after that, so much so that you can hear his small and broken breaths being let out against the wall. You hear what you think is the sound of his hand being brought up to rest next to his head. And as the feeling of being pulled in so many directions takes over you, your heart in a heated battle with your brain, it’s after a few moments of silence that you stand up and walk over towards the door.

Leehan, observing the shadows of your footsteps through the little gap at the bottom of the door, perks up when it’s just a thin barrier of wood that keeps you from being face-to-face with one another.

You prepare yourself to be annoyed when you open the door in expectation that he will be his usual unreadable, unserious self.

But it’s in surprise but also a little relief that what you find when you face him is the expression of a man who’s truly understood the gravity of his mistakes and feels shameful over them.

“You look really pretty,” he blurts out, the suddenness of the remark almost betraying your slowly but surely growing feelings of understanding towards him. But you also can’t help that his random candor makes you laugh, reminded of some of your earlier interactions as he sheepishly says, “Sorry, bad timing.”

Still standing a fair distance away from him, the tip of your toes just barely meeting the tip of his as you look down at them to avoid eye contact, you attempt to ease the tension of the moment with a shy but truthful, “Thank you, Leehan. For the compliment and for the apology.”

You can feel the heat of his gaze as he tilts his head to stare at you, his attention feeling hopeful but not in a way that makes you feel pressured, but in a way that has you compelled to be completely vulnerable and honest with him.

“I’m just…really scared that you’ll hurt me,” you confess somberly, and it still feels strange to even say things like this to him because you’ve spent so much time suppressing your negative emotions when it comes to Leehan. Scared that you’d lose his approval and feeling like you needed such approval to feel good about yourself.

But over time as your relationship progressed and you found yourself little by little regaining the sense of self that your interactions with Leehan robbed you of, you were able to realize that you didn’t deserve to be treated like an afterthought, like an object only useful if it was giving satisfaction to someone else.

And it was in resentment that over these two months of not speaking you felt like Leehan believed that, too.

But now after hearing him explain himself and believing genuinely that he wants to be with you, you now battle with the parts of you that are scared to believe him in fear of getting hurt and the parts of you that so badly also want to be in a relationship with him.

“I’m not scared,” he tells you, the confidence you’ve come to know him for coming out more strongly than ever before. “I’ve got you, remember?”

He then goes to place his two middle fingers underneath your chin, pushing your jaw upward so that you’re forced into eye contact. Staring into his endless and piercing eyes, it’s for the first time that you feel like you understand him in a non-sexual context. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” you mumble quietly in reply.

And it’s as you feel your lips twitching into a content smile that Leehan leans in to kiss you, and you accept the gesture without question.

five months later

“I wanna go half on a baby with you.”

These are the words that Leehan remarks to your sleeping form as you lay comfortably beside him in bed, sleeping but getting roused into attention by the faint sound of his voice.

“A fish baby, of course,” he clarifies, though you don’t even register what he’s saying as you remain half-asleep. “I think the ones in my tank are getting lonely.”

It’s hard to tell sometimes whether Leehan is musing out loud to himself or talking directly to you, but either way, the deep tone of his voice wakes you up just the same.

You lay on your stomach, opening one eye to find him sitting up on his elbow and staring down at you with a curious expression on his face. His hand, resting on your back, draws unintelligible figures on the skin that’s left uncovered by your night shirt.

All in all, it's a pretty domestic, intimate scene, had you not glanced over at your phone to find how early it was.

“Leehan, it’s seven a.m,” you complain to your boyfriend who still just stares dreamily at your sleepy figure. “What are you yapping about?”

Too familiar with your morning grumpiness to be phased by it, it’s with an unmoved expression that Leehan casually replies, “Just about how much I want a baby with you.”

When you hear those words come out of Leehan’s mouth, you’re sure you must still be asleep and that this is just an incredibly vivid dream. Either that, or you’re dating the strangest person in the world.

Given that both realities are entirely plausible, it’s in your tiredness and confusion that you sit up from the bed completely, staring at a relaxed Leehan with raised eyebrows. “Don’t you think we’re a little young for that? I mean eventually, sure, but while we’re in school—”

“I was talking about fish,” he interrupts you to say, chuckling at your confused expression and giggling again when you pout at being laughed at. “But since you’re so eager, why don’t I put a baby in you right now?”

Your own laughter in reaction to his words is suppressed when he presses a large hand on your stomach, pushing you back down on the bed. He leans in to kiss you, but per usual, you refuse to make things easy for him.

Reaching behind your head, you grab a pillow and smack him in the face with it, creating a barrier between your bodies. “You’re such a weirdo,” you playfully quip, a designation he only takes in stride as he goes to throw the pillow somewhere on the floor.

“I’m your weirdo though,” he emphasizes, and it’s as you’re both smiling in satisfaction that he leans in to press his lips against yours.

And as his cold hands roam your warm body, you’re hit with a sudden wave of happiness as you acknowledge how far gone the days of having to wish for him to stay even fir minutes after you’ve had sex truly are.

Because in the past five months since you’ve gotten together exclusively, not only is it routine for him to stay behind, but you also get to wake up together and experience these sleepy, romantic moments.

The moments when he slowly kisses down your body, dragging his plush lips down your sternum until he’s positioned between your legs.

The moments when you pull softly at his hair as he languidly drags his tongue up and down your folds, begging you in his gruff, sleep-affected voice to come all over his face.

The moments when you could be sponning sideways, on top of him, or below him and he’ll still find a way to spread your legs apart, pressing his long, veiny cock inside of you until you’re overwhelmed by how full you are.

The moments where his tiredness renders him impatient and he fucks into you so roughly that you can barely form words.

The moments when he kisses you lazily through every thrust until the sex becomes so good that all you can manage is the occasional swipe of your tongue against his lips or a whimper into his mouth.

The moments when you reach your climax together and he rocks his come in and out of you like he never intends on pulling out.

The moment when you moan out his name, understanding why when you first met he insisted that to know it was a privilege. That to know him is a privilege.

And finally, your favorite, the moments when you either fall back asleep in each other’s hold or get up to shower the sleepiness and sweat off of each other.

Today is one of those days that you relent to getting up and showering, convinced only by the fact that neither of you has a morning class, making it a perfect day to visit the pet shop conveniently located just a few miles from your college town.

“What about this one?”

You turn to face Leehan in the fish tank lined aisle of the pet store, lips curling into a smile as you observe him pressing his face up to the glass in awe. As you come up to his side to view the brown-colored fish that have him so captivated, it’s in a surge of honesty that you reply, “Don’t you think they’re kind of…ugly?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you watch your boyfriend gasps dramatically in reaction to your words, even brushing his hand against the fish tank in a gesture akin to patting someone's head. “They can hear you, you know. I’m so sorry, fishies.”

Ignoring his childishness, you look around at the surrounding fish and sigh as you’re overwhelmed by all the different options. “Honestly, Leehan, you should just pick one. They all look the same to me.”

“But it should be something we both like,” he answers with a pout, circling the aisles a few more times before finally stopping at a tank in the very corner.

Inside of it are an array of multi-colored fish, but the one that stands out to you is an entirely white one with a patch of vibrant red at the top of its head.

It would be indistinguishable from a goldfish had it not been for its striking color and the appendage that looks almost like an inside-out brain on its head.

A label beside the tank reads Oranda.

“What about this one?” asks Leehan in curiosity, and in an almost alarming way, he points out the exact same fish you were just eyeing.

You come around to the other side of the tank to view it from another angle, giggling innocently when you make eye-contact with Leehan through the distorted lens of the water. “It’s pretty,” you remark simply, and because Leehan has come to know you so well, he knows that the simple attribution is a sign of high praise from you.

“Should we make it ours?” he asks you officially, and though you’re certain that this is the fish you’ve been looking for, there’s one question popping up in your brain that you still can’t find the answer to.

“What should we name it?”

You both take a beat to ponder on the question. Leehan chimes in first, blurting out, “I know. Loony.”

At this, you scoff, unsure as to where he would have gotten such an idea from. “Are you trying to say that our child is crazy?” you quip in feigned offense.

“No. It’s short for lunar eclipse. That’s when I knew we were gonna be more than just a one night stand,” he tells you sincerely, and with that context you find yourself becoming quickly attached to both the name and the fish who you take home in a plastic bag only moments later.

You allow Leehan to take the lead in homing Loony, a process that involves lots of complicated jargon about adjusting the water temperature and changing the salinity that you mostly pretend to understand as he explains it to you.

And when you are finally able to sit side by side in front of the tank and watch through the glass as Loony swims among the other fish, it’s with an adoring tone of voice that you hear Leehan say, “It’s pretty, awesome, right?”

At the sound of his voice, you turn to face him, and without being entirely conscious of it, you simply take in his features and how content he looks to be here, with you and with these fishes.

“Yeah,” you reply, laying down and resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s awesome.”

taglist: @lailols @papichulomacy @0310s @softiwoon @gardenforwon @cherrytaesan @mryuyux @saintriots @lonelylandofan @cyber-tiny @keyywrld @isabellah29 @amerecerasus @cadidupped @suhovhs @lionhanie @taesanmoon @revelettre @s9nwoo @brachioswrld @moneygal0re @karatttttt

thank you all sm for your support on this fic <3 your reactions, feedback, and compliments have meant the world

#leehan #boynextdoor #leehan smut #boynextdoor smut #leehan x reader #leehan fluff #leehan angst #boynextdoor fics #hornychristianprincess #donghyun boynextdoor #boy next door smut #donghyun smut #donghyun boy next door smut #kpop smut #kpop angst #kpop fluff

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w0rmm1lk · 1 year ago

Text

Texting.

Reader: not mentioned.

characters: all characters i write for (besides kota and eri)

type: can be read as both platonic and romantic

sumarry: how i think the mha characters would text.

warnings: possible swearing, denki being denki.

👾Mina Ashido👾

she abuses her emoji privledges. like nobody will ever receive a message from her that doesn't have an emoji. lots of all caps.

👓Tenya Iida👓

oh you were texting him? bitch writes as if he's writing a formal email. your ass is lucky that he doesn't start that shit off with "I hope this message finds you well.". not even kidding will proof read every message he sends at least twice.

♾️Ochaco Uraraka♾️

will end every message that isnt on a serious topic with :D. its so sweet tbh.

⚡Denki Kaminari⚡

this man uses so many abbreviations that even if you think you use a lot just know you're learning a new one everyday. not even kidding makes up his own shit. once sent mina "lmkiydthesicci" and nobody could figure out wtf he meant. lowkey flirting with every mssg he sends. every single person in the class, girl or not has received a message from him that just says "hey bbg ;)". he received a very long lecture from iida and a very confused reply from todoroki. todoroki didn't actually know wtf bbg meant. thought he misspelled bbq at first.

🪨Kirishima🪨

unironically sends messages that just say "rawr". uses the :} face a lot bc he thinks it looks like his unbreakable.

🐙Mezou Shoji🐙

i feel like he has such a low screentime that if anyone needs to text him he's only available for like an hour a day. accidentally leaves ppl on read. messages seem very bland usually.

❄️Shoto Todoroki🔥

another bland person but tbh hes the worst out of them all. like he can look at a whole paragraph asking him if he wants to go to the movies with the rest of the class and all he will reply with is just "ok." uses periods at the end of every message but I swear he's not mad.

💥 Bakugo💥

if he receives any messages past 8pm the "reply" will be you getting left on delivered even if he's still up, or a message just saying "shut the fuck up and go to bed.". also bland but he's more of a "k" bland rather than a "ok." bland.

🥦Izuku Midoryia🥦

he will not even kidding receive a message that just says "hi" and will send a whole paragraph that is basically just a lengthened "hi! how are you?". uses the smiley emoji a lot.

💫Momo Yaoyorozu💫

lots of ! at the end of messages, you can feel the happiness through your phone screen. uses heart emojis at the end of messages and memorizes the meaning of each color so she can use them accordingly.

🖤Shihai Kuroiro🖤

another :} user, sometimes uses :] but mainly :}. only ever texts ppl at hours like 2-4 am. you cant convince me he gets enough sleep.

👔Neito Monoma👔

you think hed text you?/j kinda just an average texter, any message about class 1a will be in all caps.

😈Dabi😈

oh look. another bland ass texter, at least he takes the time to actually type out "okay," only sends emojis if he's talking about how weird the emoji looks.

🔪Himiko Toga🔪

uses :] all the time. not :}, or :). just :]. if anyone texts her, even if its just a simple "hi." and she isn't busy, congrats you've agreed to a 3 hour face time call.

✋Tomura Shigaraki✋

he leaves everyone on read. if you question why he left you on read all you're getting is an "if its so important then talk to me face to face."

🃏Mr. Compress🃏

so you know how earlier i said you were lucky Iida didnt start with "I hope this message finds you well,"? your luck ran out. he writes it like you're a long distant friend who he is sending some fancy ass shit letter to. not even kidding ends each message with "--Compress."

🪽Hawks🪽

types so fast his phone doesnt even register his hands. half his messages be looking like "se tht ouds ood". he doesn't even bother to edit it or correct himself.

👁️Aizawa👁️

he texts like a dad. texting this mf be like:

"ok👍"

"*photo of a weird boat*"

🌙Midnight🌙

miss girl uses so many ;) that its hard to tell if shes suggesting something weird or not. ended every greetings message with that one kissy emoji.

🙂Mirio Togata🙂

uses the 🙂 all the time because he thinks it looks like him. it does.

🌀Nejire Hado🌀

lots of !!! and :D, also uses the :> a lot lol. lots of blue heart emojis aswell.

🦋Tamaki Amajiki🦋

sends articles about different butterflies he likes or thinks the person he sends it to would like along with a message along the lines of "I think this fits you :]". rarely texts first but when he does he clicks send and sitts on the other side of the bed as his phone while staring at it intensely, just waiting for the reply notif. wont actually read the reply for a good minute.

🐈‍⬛Hitoshi Shinsou🐈‍⬛

sends photos of random animals he sees while out and about. usually just cats. (no way this man doesn't feed the strays around ua) another person that only texts at night time.

🛠️Mei Hastume🛠️

uses >:D a lot, shows blueprints of her new babies all the time, ngl they are usually rlly messy. texts are just :

"LOOK AT THIS NEW BABY IN PROGRESS >:D"

"* incomprehensible image of a blueprint *"

⭐Yo Shindo⭐

uses the thumbs up way to much but like in the passive aggresive way yk? but also if you send him a photo of something ur proud of he will reply with a simple "oh that's cool!" but there's so much fucking emotion behind it ur just kinda like ???

🛡Melissa Shield🛡

her messages are so sweet. sunset pictures of the ocean every other day. lots of :).

wrote this is one go and now my hands hate me. i think this was at least 20 characters-? idk I'm struggling to count.

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almightygremlinblob · 6 months ago

Text

In Every Life (AMAB Ver.)

In which Sukuna falls in love with the Reader without realizing it.

Word Count: 5, 466 of slow burn. ⚠️Content Warnings⚠️: True Form Sukuna, Heian Era, Sukuna fluff, soft Sukuna, mentioned cannibalism, slight angst, Sunshine AMAB!Reader but gender neutral expressions used, Reader is not a sorcerer and is implied to be the only non-sorcerer of her village. THIS IS NOT BETA'D and I am very tired while editing this. SO! If you spot any mistakes, esp. around the parts lmao, since I made two ver. of this, pls tell me! Minors and ppl not okay with anything sexual pls DNI and have a nice day 👍🏽 AFAB!Reader (with gender-neutral pronouns) here

⚠️Further Content Warnings⚠️: Virgin!Sukuna, Sub!Sukuna, Reader and Sukuna both switch from gentle doms to subs, size difference, soft & fluffy sex, very messy sex, Reader makes out with the tummy mouth, anal, cock worship, Reader makes out with tummy mouth, lots of fluids in general, lots of mouths, consensual blood drinking, this is getting worse the more I write lmao.

You were happy you managed to catch the attention of the King of Curses.

Sure, you didn't exactly know how you did it. You weren't strong, or exceptionally beautiful like the sons and daughters offered to him. You weren't even that smart!

You were clueless, as a matter of fact!

So clueless that, nearly two weeks ago, you gave the strange looking man with four arms a warm meal and a place to stay for the night - since it didn't seem like the storm would let up any time soon. He was pretty much shunned by the rest of the village upon his arrival…probably due to the overwhelming energy that sent people into fight or flight…but he was just born different!

Probably.

"What's your name, Mister?"

"…"

You quickly learned that he didn't speak much, and he does not like to be looked at. Only watching as you go about your day - trying your best to navigate through the judgement and, frankly, abuse of the other villagers; ever as judgemental about you as they were likely to talk down on you, spread rumors and try to take advantage of your endless kindness. Not that it worked, though - and for that, everyone pretty much hated you. Despite his silence, your visitor was the only one that seemed to regard you without any ounce of hatred.

Then, one day…

"Why do you entertain them?"

"Ah!" You visibly jumped at that moment - up until now you were certain he couldn't speak. His voice was lovely baritone, but held a quiet authority - much like him…and a very clear evil but you wouldn't dwell too much on that. "M-me? Oh…of course, me…"

"U-um…I'm not entirely sure, actually. I don't like them, b-but…" Those sharp, piercing eyes are distant, scanning the forest as you tried to think of a reason. "I-I guess they're my neighbors. Friends? No. But it wouldn't be right to just outright ignore them."

"Hmph, of course…" He scoffs, and rolls his eyes. "You people and your morals…"

"Do you not have friends?"

"No."

"Oh…" Your shoulders slump slightly. "Then, consider me your first friend!"

"No."

"Oh…"

When you visibly deflate, he laughs lightly, shaking his head as if he's heard something utterly ridiculous. "Why does that bother you? You hardly know me. I could be a mass murderer for all you know."

"Because you…you're…" You think for a while, before finding the right words. "One of the most unique people I've ever had the blessing of meeting."

His eyes finally land on you. "Blessing, huh?"

------

Eventually, the villagers turned violent towards you and your guest, but you did your best to keep him safe - urging him to leave, quickly. It was that day, when you were nearly beaten to death, that you learned the strange man's name.

"Die, you peasant!" There was something in the way these villagers attacked. A strange energy that made it hurt all the more. You were bloodied, bruised and beaten to the point you couldn't even find the strength to scream. A blade was pointed to your throat. "Any last words?"

Despite yourself, you manage to spit at him.

"I didn't think you had it in you." That familiar low voice, low and uninterested, sounds from behind you both. Then, before your very eyes, everyone was somehow cut to pieces. No screams, or cries…just the sounds of flesh and bone being cut apart. You were probably hallucinating...

You see your guest walk beside you - the gore, guts and limbs not affecting him in the slightest.

"Ah, you're okay…" His eyes land on you again. "B-be careful…t-there's an invisible…invisible something that's cutting people up…"

He scoffs. "And if I told you that was me?"

"What."

"Tsk." He promptly grabs you and, without you even realizing, your wounds begin healing, closing up, and suddenly you're more aware than you were a while ago. Then, with the flick of his wrist, the bodies get further chopped apart. The gears in your head start to turn and your eyes widen. "O-oh…"

"Go on, then. Go ahead." He grabs your face, forcing you to look at the disembodied people and the growing river of blood. "Run."

"No. No…" Your breathing steadies, and you relax into his hold. He must sense it with the way his whole body tenses for a moment. "Not from you."

In the silence, you can practically hear him thinking as he gets up. And when he made no move, you realized he was waiting for you. So you got up too, wordlessly, and began to follow him. After a while of silence, he graces you with his voice again - quiet, almost…soft.

"My name is irrelevant…but people call me Sukuna Ryomen, the King of Curses."

------

And that was the start of your new life, as a servant of the King of Curses.

It…wasn't so bad! Sure, you could be killed any day, like a few of the other servants and many of the courtesans, but you also didn't do much! And, best of all, no more of those abusive neighbors! Your days were mainly spent helping the head servant - the attractive one with white hair and a pink splotch - do things for the king, for only up to four hours. Four hours! Then you'd spend the rest of the day doing whatever!

This was not one of those days, however.

Today, you were cleaning the Lord's study, in his chambers, along with the attractive head servant. There were...a strangely high number of Dokudami paintings...

"The Lord seems to have an obsession with this herb. Does he like it?"

"That's an interesting observation. Though you're mistaken. It's more the symbolism of this plant."

"And…that would be?"

"Its flowers are delicate, pure. The plant itself is medicinal against many illnesses - it's endlessly helpful. Kind. But it grows everywhere, even in the places not many grow. A surprising resilience despite it's 'delicate' nature." The head servant explains, and you can hear the tinge of amusement in their voice. "Remind you of anyone?"

"Uh…no? No one comes to mind…"

They simply snort at that.

------

The first time you were called to his chambers, you thought you were going to die. Actually, everyone thought you were going to die. They were all giddy at the thought. You didn't expect to just sit there in silence while he practiced his calligraphy.

"I can hear you thinking. Speak."

You fidget around a little, before getting the words out. "I've always been meaning to ask…why…why me, my Lord?"

He clicks his tongue. "You dare question my choices?"

"N-no! Only…I'm curious."

Sukuna is silent for a while, hand perfectly still as he thinks, before eventually speaking.

"You calm me." He sighs as his brush continues to move. "Somehow, every time, you calm me."

------

The courtesans could see you from outside, and you could practically feel them glaring daggers at you - endlessly furious and envious that you could be that close to the Lord.

"My Lord, you…never seem to show interest in your courtesans. Have they, I mean…" You weren't sure how to word it without coming off as too brash.

"Of course they try to bed me. They always do. Don't even try to hide that they're doing it to gain a semblance of power in my estate. The last two were just…" He waves his hand dismissively, tone making it abundantly clear he wasn't happy with the memory. "Had her head cut off and the second had his limbs strewn on the floor."

You feel his gaze on you, scowl evident in even his voice. "Why do you ask me about this?"

"It's just…you have so many, I thought, well..."

"Tsk. They only want something from me, and they think they can take it freely. From me. Me!"

"Surely not ALL of them…" You fidget a little. "Why would you keep them around if that was? There's…there's so many…"

You can practically hear his smirk. "Because their organs taste GREAT sautéed."

"A-ah…"

He snorts, seeing your discomfort. "Are you afraid of becoming like them?"

"I…hm…" You look up in thought. "Perhaps…"

He lets out a soft laugh. "Then you truly are a fool."

"But…I think, it would be a good sacrifice." You finish the last area, as he goes awfully quiet. "Like an offering to a god. I think…I think I wouldn't mind that."

His presence is more than clear behind you, strong and foreboding. "Do you mean it?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"Liar. Everyone says that…" He scoffs. "…but, nobody means it. If given the chance…"

You hear a sound, sharp and strong, much like a blade. A pain blooms from your wrist, and you realize you're bleeding lightly - only a few drops of blood at a time. "They all run."

"No. I wish to stay by your side, my Lord. I have nowhere I'd rather be." When you relax and make no move to run, a big and warm hand engulfs yours.

"You…weren't lying." You feel lips against the wound on your outer wrist, and the swipe of a tongue against it before the wound starts to close. "You fool…"

------

Many in the estate didn't like you, jealous of how close you were to the Lord - but it wasn't everyone. Now, it was everyone. Rumors fueling jealousy and malice for the very obvious favoritism.

Taking little nibbles, you didn't want to take more than your share.

The food was beyond AMAZING. However, Sukuna simply scowls as you shyly keep your head bowed and you must feel his gaze harden by the way you flinch under it.

"I apologize. I just…don't want to take more than my share…"

"Do you mean to insult me? This entire meal is yours." He scoffs, grabbing your bowl. He grabs one of the sushi rolls and puts it against your mouth, which is still closed due to your surprise. "Eat. I won't accept this…whatever it is you're doing."

"O-oh, I-…thank you, my Lord." You open your mouth and allow him to feed you. Light blush forming from how good the food is. Yes, that was definitely why. "My compliments to the chef. This is beyond delicious, my Lord…"

And it was true, the sushi, the miso soup, selection of meats, everything tasted DIVINE.

"Compliments taken."

WAIT-

You nearly choke on your food. "I-I apologize…my Lord. I, you…for me???"

"Use your words."

"I mean, ah…" You shake your head, trying to recover from your mind going into overdrive. "You…made this for me?"

"Yes." He says it so plainly.

"What…what for?"

He doesn't answer and, for once, looks unsure. "I…I don't know."

------

When you came out of his chambers unscathed the second time, everyone - except for Lord Sukuna himself and his servant - went into a frenzy. The servants were appalled, the courtesans were fuming, and you made sure to steer clear of everyone who now seemed to loathe you. And, soon enough, all your duties were either with the head servant, with Lord Sukuna, or by yourself. Still, you didn't feel safe in the estate anymore.

Then, one night, the head servant came to your quarters, stating that "Lord Sukuna has requested I take you to his chambers."

If you weren't going to die physically, you would die of embarrassment.

Still, you followed the white haired servant to his chambers, entire form trembling as you nearly stumbled over yourself. Sukuna glances you once over, and can't help the snort that escapes his lips. You looked like a newly born fawn with how shaky your legs were.

"My sincerest apologies. I just…nervous…"

"That much is clear. Sit." Something is off and you can tell he's tense. "This probably isn't going to go how you're expecting."

You do as he says, sitting seiza in front of him. Something sharp is pointed to your throat, right where the artery is. Your eyes go wide, but after a little bit, you allow your entire body to relax. If you should die by anyone's hand, it would be his.

"Look at me." He commands and you look up, seeing him holding a spear of sorts. For the first time, you see him - truly see him. His form beautiful, terrifying and divine all at once. Your eyes and body must show your adoration, because he looks away - as if uncomfortable.

He shuts his eyes, and the spear is repeatedly pushed against your neck, as if trying. However, it never follows through. This was so easy for him, and yet…

"My Lord, if I should die today, it would be the greatest honor for it to be by your hand." Your body relaxes, eyes close and you lean into the blade of the spear. Sukuna tenses, and you feel it in his hold. "If it's by your hand, my Lord, I can only die happy."

"Yes. That much you've made clear." You hear him sigh, tired and defeated, as the spear drops to the floor. "To think this is how I'd lose…how pathetic…"

"M…my Lord?"

"Leave."

You see him, frustrated and defeated, and it makes your heart ache to see him like this. Without even realizing it, your hand reaches out and stops just before touching him. "Might I stay for you? Please, I only want…"

His glare nearly has you frozen. "THIS is how you want to celebrate a victory over me?"

"No, my Lord. I only wish to stay by your side and help how I can."

He's quiet, clearly upset. "Do what you will with me. I might as well be worthless like this anyway."

"Never to me, Lord Sukuna." You take his hand in both of yours, and bring your lips to his knuckles but he quickly pulls his hand away.

"What?!" He snarls. "What use is your loyalty to someone like me now?"

"You are my Lord, Sukuna. I serve you…" Your eyes meet his, full of longing and concern. "Anything I can do to help you, please let me…"

His eyes briefly glance at your quivering lips, leaning in without realizing before he turns away with a click of his tongue.

"Leave."

And you do as you are told.

------

"How is Lord Sukuna?"

Was one of the most frequent questions you'd pester the head servant's ears with. They roll their eyes. "He's not frail, you know. You don't need to worry about him like a mother hen."

"I just…it's been a week since I've seen him! If he doesn't want to see me, that's fine, but…I-I'd at least like to know if he's okay…" You sigh. "And what I did wrong…so I can avoid doing it again!"

"Just give him time to process." The head servant states nonchalantly. "This is new territory for him."

------

The silence was…

Awkward, to say the least.

Not a word uttered as he continued to paint those stupid edible weeds in the candle-light. It was already late…

"A-ahem." Your voice breaks slightly when you clear your throat, and you feel his gaze on you. "M-my Lord, if there's nothing else, I shall retire for the night."

"Stay."

What.

"Don't make me repeat myself." Clearly your reaction was evident in your body, and you choke on your words before they even get out.

"That night was my first defeat." He says, as if sensing your question, yet you hear a tired and heavy sigh. "As of now, it's been my only one."

"But…have you been okay, my Lord?"

"Always about me, hm?" He scoffs, and there's tension as his footsteps grow closer. Your eyes meet his, beautiful and terrifying, when his fingers gently tug your chin up - guiding you to look at him. Guiding your body to the mattress as he cages you underneath him. "And why not just claim your victory? I have no right to complain. Isn't that what you meant to do the night you defeated me?"

"What? No! My, Lord, no! I-I'm sorry. It wasn't-I didn't mean-It's not what you think! I could never-" Your hands cover your mouth - shocked at the implication. "Oh Lord Sukuna, I bow to you! Only you! I-I will never, could never, force something like that on you! Not then. Not now…"

"Good. This was getting overwhelming." He sighs and then promptly rolls off you, plopping down to your side. Though your skins were still touching and, for once, Sukuna didn't mind someone this close to him in this way. He was relaxed, as if his worries melted away. You couldn't help the smile that grew. This was the Lord you know - a walking death and calamity, now pacified. You both face each other and he can't help but look away, cracking under the weight of your loving gaze - full of adoration, concern and awe.

Weak.

He was weak.

"Lord Sukuna, may I?" Your hand reaches out to him, stopping just before reaching the wooden part of his face. He was so terribly beautiful.

"Do as you wish." He mumbles, and you gently hold him - even though he doesn't show it, you can feel him tense.

"My Lord, what's wrong?" There it is again, the weight that makes him feel like he's breaking without being broken. "I know you don't need it, but I only wish to help in any way I can…"

His mouth opens and closes several times before he's able to finally find the worse. "You've broken me. Made me weak…and I can't even curse you, or wish we'd never met because I'd be lying."

You chuckle. "My Lord is far from weak."

"Yet I am powerless against you." His four eyes bore into you, in them a mix of desperation and longing, as you gently stroke the wooden part of his face. Finally, he closes his eyes, relaxing against you. "And I never thought defeat could feel like this…"

"Is it pleasant, my Lord?"

"It is…" You feel his fingers tracing along your collarbone, up to your jawline and you feel something wet licking your skin as his hand rests on your throat. A mouth on his hand, gently licking and suckling on the sensitive parts of your neck. "…but only if it's you."

"Lord Sukuna…" Despite everything, you feel he's still tense. "You're tense. Would you like me to…?"

"Yes. I meant to bed you tonight, but this…it's…" He sighs. "Overwhelming. I'm not clueless, but something about you makes it all…too much…"

"Then let me lead, my Lord." You gently push him down, and he lets you - following you as you guide him. His hand takes hold of your chin, pulling you in so your lips meet his. His kiss was tentative and unsure, or perhaps more accurately, scared. Scared of every feeling that threatened to overthrow him. You eagerly massaged your lips against his nonetheless. "Please…allow me to worship you tonight, Lord Sukuna."

His breaths become heavier when you straddle him, gently undoing his kimono while he easily rips your clothes to shreds with a flick of a wrist. Your lips mark his skin gently. Moving down to worship his mouth, jaw, his shoulders, both chests and finally to the mouth on his stomach - who was breathing just as heavy. Sukuna tenses when you take his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it and explore the much bigger one with your smaller tongue.

When you pull away, there's a small pool of saliva where the stomach mouth lay open and plenty on you where the mouth-hands had left their marks on your skin. Both his cocks, beautiful, heavy and fat, sat on his stomach where they were already leaking with arousal. Sukuna's breathing turned heavy, and as your hands move to his waist, stopping just before doing anything, you look up at him. "My Lord, if at any time you wish for me to stop, please say so. I will stop without hesitation or question."

"Always about me…" He chuckles and, in a sudden movement, easily manhandles you so your ass is on his stomach-mouth. "No, I do not wish to stop. But if you truly ask for nothing in return, then let me be gracious."

"M-my Lord, ah-" Your eyes roll back when you feel that giant tongue lapping at the rim of your hole, the both of you moaning as he did so.

"Delicious…" A hand finds its way to your length, giving it lazy strokes before a mouth opens up and begins licking you - before taking you in. The heat of his mouth felt absolutely divine. The mouths on his other hands suck hickeys and bite the skin of your neck, while they find the sensitive nubs on your chest and harshly tug at them with teeth and lips, too. You hear a noise that's half-way between a whimper and a moan. "…everything about you…so delicious…"

"That's it, my Lord. I'm yours tonight…" You sigh, mind in bliss as your hands find his cocks. He bucks his hips when you begin to stroke him - slowly, before building to a steady pace. His cocks were thick and fat, heavy and veiny and monstrously beautiful in all the ways that had you nervous to take him. They throbbed eagerly, dare you say even aching for your touch. Bowing down, you take one of his tips into your mouth, careful not to let your teeth get in the way. The way his tip had pulsed and the amount of arousal you had to swallow down, had you moaning and whining happily as you swallowed his cock. Amidst the low growling of his stomach mouth, you hear a noise that's halfway between a whimper and a moan, and feel him buck his hips into your mouth as you lick and suck on him eagerly - tongue, lips and hands feverishly worshipping Sukuna's heavy, monstrous lengths.

The tongue begins to enter you, and you nearly cum on the spot - choking on his cock. Slowly, it reaches deep, deep enough to hit that spot that has you seeing stars. When you continue to moan, Sukuna's hips move on their own - tip fucking your mouth while you drool and stroke him.

You both get lost in pleasure. His large tongue tastes and moves eagerly inside you, practically assaulting that sweet spot as the stomach mouth continues to growl and whine and drool. While you eagerly suck on and stroke his twitching and throbbing lengths and he returns the favor, albeit a little more sloppy.

A guttural moan escapes Sukuna's throat when he releases into your greedy mouth, and you do your best to swallow everything he has to offer while his other cock paints you in white. Drool, precum and his seed still leak out your mouth, though - and you quickly find it's too much. Before you can stop yourself, you release into the mouth sucking you off - ass clamping down on the large tongue inside you as it continues to move inside of you, well past your high. You cum heavy into one of your Lord's many mouths, and it gags on your cock - the sensation making you spurt more into the mouth that greedily tries to swallow everything.

His tip leaves your mouth with a sloppy and wet pop and with a groan, both tongues take one final lick before retracting back. You both are breathing heavy, shaking a little as he repositions you to face him. His hand caresses your face, eyes completely dilated as he makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a sigh.

"Oh, gods, look at you…"

"My Lord, I-" Your eyes widen a little as you struggle a little in his grasp. "Wait-"

"Have you forgotten who you answer to?" He clicks his tongue. "You are in no position to make demands of me."

"I…answer to you, my Lord." You still, realizing what he was asking you. "I'm sorry."

There's a small silence as you look away bashfully. However, when you glance back at him and are met with a frown - there was the sudden realization of an unsaid question waiting to be answered. He hasn't moved at all. Immediately, you explain yourself, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. "I-I'm still a bit sensitive, is all…but I-I still want this! Truly, my Lord! I-I want…I want you, still."

Your voice comes out a little higher than you would have liked, but it seemed to quell him nonetheless.

"As am I, but…" He sighs and before he looks away, you capture his lips in a chaste but wet kiss.

"I know." You bite your lip bashfully and your voice comes out soft and sweet in all the ways that make his cocks twitch. "But, I did promise to worship my Lord tonight. I shouldn't make a promise I can't keep."

When your hands begin to stroke him again, slow and gentle, Sukuna practically throws his head back, biting back a low whimper while his stomach mouth shamelessly groaned and panted. He cursed as his hips began to move on their own, muscles tensing as his cocks grew hard again. Yet when your eyes lock he only sees adoration and longing in them as your hands worshipped him diligently. Not the empty lust he saw in everyone else who wanted him this way but could never get close.

"You look incredible like this, my Lord." Your voice comes out raspy and full of longing, and it tears a near animalistic sound from him.

"Enough." He growls, and you immediately stop. "Let me inside you."

"Anything for you." A mix of arousal, anxiousness and excitement overwhelms you as you climb on top of him, positioning yourself so his bottom cockhead kisses the entrance to your ass - readying you as it spurts those large trickles of precum. The both of you share a guttural groan as you sink down on one of his cocks, the free one throbbing delightfully in front of your own length. Sukuna was massive, to say the least, and despite how dripping wet he was your legs were still shaking from the wonderful strain. Although, your gummy insides took him in eagerly while being stretched to their limit.

The initial pain of the stretch was nearly drowned out by how wonderful he felt inside of you - fat and veiny cock completely filling you, dragging deliciously along the inside of your ass. You could feel him his arousal leak inside you, lubricating you plenty, and his length pulsing like a second heartbeat. And when you fully sheathed him inside of you, you both almost lost the ability to think properly.

"S-Sukuna, my Lord…" You'd be embarassed by how shameless you sounded with your Lord now fully inside you, his fat mushroom head leaking on and throbbing against that sweet spot. His hands rested on your hips, keeping your bodies joined with a messy puddle of arousal underneath you both. Sukuna's eyes were rolled back and fluttering slightly while his stomach mouth was open with his massive tongue lolled out, making a noise somewhere between a low growl and a whimper. Seeing him like this nearly sent you off the edge.

"O-ooh, gods…" He groans when he feels you clamp down on him, and a hand pulls your head into a clumsy kiss. You feel his breath turn into full on panting when he tasted himself on you, the hands on your hips now painfully digging into your skin as he begins to thrust up into you - sloppy, slow and languid, as if trying to get even deeper and split you apart. Your free hands, once caressing the wooden part of his face, now move down to stroke his free cock - earning you a low growling from the stomach mouth as it started panting.

"Oh, you feel heavenly, Lord Sukuna…" As if encouraged by your words, his thrusts start to get faster, harder - a steady rhythm beginning to build. "That's it. You're doing so well, my Lord."

"Ngh, ah…" Your Lord made such sweet sounds.

Neither of you were going to last long, it was all too much.

"A-ah, it's so good my Lord…" The pain had long subsided, replaced only with ecstacy. Sukuna's fat and heavy cock dragged along every part of your insides, and the feeling of the warm arousal dripping from his tip and the throbbing of his veiny length had you near screaming into his mouth. Your Lord was completely filling you and leaving no part of you unloved. While your ass, already sloppy and wet with Sukuna's arousal, desperately sucked him in every time you and him moved, only to be rewarded as he thrusted back in and you bounced back down on him, wet velvety insides squeezing him tightly as if never wanting him to leave. Without you even realizing it, your body was unconsciously and sweetly worshipping and loving your god. "I love you, Lord Sukuna!"

Something in Sukuna snaps upon hearing those words, which were otherwise empty - had it come from someone else.

"I want to taste you." He practically whimpers into your mouth as you both pant and continue to knot tongues. The kiss is clumsy, inexperienced, but you were far too lost in love to care - exploring your Lord's mouth eagerly while you struggle to ride his beautiful, monstrous form. The tongues on his mouths sucking, biting and tasting your skin; marking every bit of your body they could. This would hurt, but you didn't care. You only wanted to show your god how much you loved him. "Let me taste you…"

"Yes, my Lord. Anything-" This would hurt, but you didn't care - only wanting to show your god how much you loved him. "Anything you wish of me…"

With the flick of his wrist, there's a sharp pain on your tongue and a metallic taste floods both of your mouths - there's not enough damage to fully cut off your tongue, however, only a cut.

"Swallow me." Sukuna's breath hitches as he continues to kiss you, letting out a noise between a growl and a whimper, and you realize that it wasn't only your blood in both of your mouths. An offering of a devotee to their god, and a god to their devotee. You eagerly swallow each other's blood, moaning into your mouths as you share the messy, bloody kiss.

"Y-yes, keep going my Lord…" You continue to encourage him, as one of his hands moves to take both of your lengths and stroke them together. You and Sukuna both throw your heads back and nearly yell as the mouth on his hand opens up and swallows the both of you - tongue working eagerly on both your tips while your hands work on the shafts. "Cum for me, my Lord. Please…"

His thrusts get faster and harder, and you bounce on him just as fervently. What was once a steady rhythm has now turned sloppy as you both rode each other into your high. Sukuna reaches his orgasm with a choked yell, and you reach yours with a scream - bodies tensing as you both get lost in each other and neither of you stop moving. His warm and thick seed floods your insides, far too copious and spilling over. Your ass spasms and clamps down on him, almost painfully milking and sucking him in, desperately trying and failing to keep his overflowing love inside. The mouth that held both of your cocks greedily tries and fails to swallow all of the overflowing love as you and Sukuna both cum heavy into it.

It feels like forever, but you eventually collapse on top of him - both of you too tired to pull out of either hole. Though the mouth that held both of your cocks still lazily licked up at all the overflow. Minds completely muddled neither of you could think, bodies shaky with the high and tranquility of post-orgasm. There was nothing but the sound of your breathing for a while, before he silently cups your face and you feel the sting on your tongue disappear. With shaky hands, you touch your tongue and find the cut was healed.

"Thank you for sharing your blood with me, my Lord." You bury your face in the crook of his neck. "If I may, might I stay the night?"

"You'll be staying here every night, from now on." Without realizing it, his lips reach your forehead. "And for the rest of eternity, you will never leave my side."

"Yes, my Lord. I swear it." It was one simple, powerful vow that had you staying by his side for the rest of your life…

And made you return to him, in every life after.

-----

My GAAAHD was this difficult to write. Not the writing part itself, NO. But finding the time for writing. YEEESH. Anyways, have a great day!

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x male reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x male reader #sukuna x amab reader #my writing

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silly-honeybee · 18 days ago

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I’m a simple lesbian so I heard the pspsppsss and ran to make a request.

Could I request maddie with a crush? And maybe how she’d deal with that and try hinting to it or even try to ask them out

Battle of the diving board

(Gif by me :3)

🐝 ~ YAAY Maddie request! Ty for responding to my pspsps, it means a lot😼 Many ppl have sent Maddie requests which makes me so happy bc Maddie is my faaaav~ Anyway Ik the title is weird, but hope y’all get the vision once you read🙏 ty for requesting!!<3

Fic includes: Maddie having a crush on you

Warnings: none

Genre: fluff ig? Yeah

Characters: Maddie Nolan

♡ ~ Fem!reader - she/her prns used for r once - wlw

~ Maddie is in a constant battle of “should I go for it?” … “What if she doesn’t like me back?” And so on.

She has loved you for a long time, even trying to deny it at some point in fear that she’d be rejected. A constant back and forth of looking at the water of the pool, wanting to take the chance and just tell you already, and then the ladder back down, the safe route to just not say anything.

~ Every day, she sees you walk by during her morning patrol. A swarm of butterflies bubbles up in her stomach, the giddy feeling that she gets every time she’s around you. The two of you exchange smiles each time, not having the time to stop and chat right then. A simple smile from you is all she needed to brighten her day.

Outside of work, whenever the two of you would hang out, she made an effort to at least try and drop some hints. She wants to tell you how she feels; she really does. Yet the confidence to do so is always so close, yet so far… Like she’s constantly trying to jump from the highest diving board but stops right at the edge each time.

Having lunch with you is one of her favorite things. The two of you meet up for lunch 3 days a week, the soft chatter that starts between you two that usually ends up in a laughing fit. She adores your laugh, and she’s happy that she’s a person you’re able to laugh so freely around. She’s truly honored.

~ But her favorite thing? It’s what the two of you are doing right now. Sitting on the couch of Maddie’s apartment, you cuddled up to her side while watching a movie that she let you choose… She always lets you choose.

She wasn’t even focused on the movie anymore. Her attention was on you, and you only. Her tender, light blue eyes trail away from the television and over to your face. She couldn’t help but admire your features; she found every imperfection about you to be absolute perfection to her.

You noticed her gaze on you, your head turning to face her. A sheepish smile creeps onto Maddie’s face, cheeks tinted a rosy pink, embarrassed to be caught staring, yet she wanted you to know that she only gazed at you like this. She didn’t realize that she was still staring until you spoke.

“You okay there, Mads?” Your voice cuts off her thoughts; gosh... Of course you use that nickname. Even if it’s simple, she still found it endearing to say the least.

“Yea, ‘m okay. Just.. can’t stop lookin’ at ya.” Her confidence seems to rise as she speaks, determined to finally get the words she’s been dying to say for so long. Yet she still threatens to back away from the edge of the diving board, scared she would do a belly flop and get hurt. But she knew better; even if you didn’t feel the same, she’d land safely. Your kindness is one of the many things she loves so deeply about you.

A tender smile graces your face, your right hand finding hers, interlocking your fingers carefully. Maddie held her breath, eyes going back and forth between your hands that are intertwined and your lips that were so, so close to hers.

It felt like her whole body erupted into flames as your lips eventually touched for the first time. Butterflies bouncing off of the walls of her soul… Kissing you was probably the best decision she has ever made.

~ It’s safe to say that she landed perfectly in the water, the diving board not looking as tall anymore.

🐝 ~ Ty for reading! If you’re new here, check out my intro and masterlist if you want ^^

Intro - Masterlist (links)

#wlw blog #wlw post #arcane #arcane x reader #maddie nolan #maddie x reader #maddie nolan x reader #maddie arcane #maddie #x reader #fluff #fluffy fluff #arcane fluff #fem reader #lesbian #lgbtq #x female reader #x fem!reader #arcane x female reader

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bucksdoll · 1 year ago

Note

watching porn with sarah and eventually scissoring!!!! nsfw pls!! 💗💗💕💓💓💕💖💖💓💖💕

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱

sarah cameron x fem! reader imagine

trigger warnings : NSFW (minors dni), friends to lovers, sarah is inexperienced with women, scissoring, implied reader is a top but they’re holding back quite a bit, dirty talk, pre existing/hidden feelings, watching porn, reader using the nickname ‘sare’ for sarah

summary : after a particularly hot day outside, you and sarah are buzzing from the heat. you seek shelter in sarah’s room, cooling down in the air conditioning. you head to grab her laptop when she expresses her boredom, and you’re beyond suprised when you see what it’s open to.

authors note : heyy, thank you for being my first ever post rq, it means a lot. i wasn’t sure what trope you wanted, so i went with bsf to lovers bc i felt like it fit. i hope that’s okay :). this was supposed to just be an imagine, but it kinda ended up being a little longer than i anticipated. please feel free to leave more rqs ppl ! i love doing them. this was BRIEFLY read over. might be a lot of mistakes, and this is also my first time writing a fic. pls b patient w me.

english is not my first language, forgive me.

bow dividers by gigittamic.

it was so hot in obx today, that it almost felt like your body was quite literally set on fire. it was the weekend, and you of course went to tanneyhill to hang out with sarah. you and sarah were inseparable. you practically lived with her at tanneyhill. you hung out around the cameron’s so often that you’d become quite close with just about every member of the family. youd help wheezy with homework, you’d playfully chastise rafe and his friends when they came over, you’d helped rose with little things here and there, hell even ward had begun to see you as a daughter. you were always welcomed in the house, whether sarah was there or not. you would be invited to family events, kook centered parties, on family vacations, everything.

if somebody asked, you’d call sarah your best friend. she’s probably call you that too. but deep down, you didn’t know what you two were. the circumstances in which you met weren’t completely platonic. you’d spotted her while at a random kook party, dressed in a bikini top and light blue ripped shorts. she was dancing with some of what you assumed to be her other friends. the music was loud and booming, and she swayed her hips, her eyes glossed over, seemingly having had a few drinks. you too, having had a few drinks, had the confidence to saunter over to her. you were dressed in a simple bikini and a backwards hat, your hair still a little damp from the dip you’d taken earlier.

you bumped a few shoulders to get through the dancing crowd of people, finally reaching her, laying a manicured hand on her shoulder. she continued moving just as she was before, hips swaying silkily, just simply turning her body to face yours. she bit her lip, smiling brightly at you, still blissfully lost in the music.

“hey pretty.” you say over the music, resting both your hands on her shoulders. you decided on a neutral move, so you could read if she was into you or not.

“hi beautiful.” she replied, finally meeting your eyes, slipping one of her hands to rest lazily on your waist, still swaying.

you started to move along with her, using your left arm around her shoulder to scoot her a little closer to you. she happily obliged, now gently fidgeting with the string of your bikini. you bit your lip, eyes never leaving hers. the way she was swaying her hips was driving you insane, and you subconsciously pulled her even closer.

she still went along with it, taking it upon herself to get as close as she could. she leaned her head on your shoulder, her hot breath on your kneck. you bit your lip so hard you’re suprised it didn’t start to bleed, and you trailed your arm from her shoulder to her ass, which you could now see swaying as she leaned against you. you gave it a light squeeze, as much as her tight denim would allow. you two continued dancing, for what felt like forever. but much to your dismay, despite a few risky touches and a few kneck kisses, nothing lead anywhere that night. she eventually had to leave the party, and she batted her eyelashes at you as you exchanged contacts.

and that’s how it always has been with sarah. you two flirt pretty frequently, and occasionally get a little handsy, but you’ve never done anything about it. she’s gone through boyfriend after boyfriend, and you’ve gone through a few relationships yourself, but after a year or so of trying, you never found relief, and ultimately stopped dating a while ago. you never tried anything with sarah, relishing in the teasing touches too much to want to risk ruining the friendship by asking her out. she was currently with her boyfriend topper, and had been for about 6 months now. she seemed happy, and seeing her happy in a relationship made you all the more sure you didn’t want to ruin it.

“hey y/n, can we pleaseee go inside. i know i begged you to come out here with me to tan but this heat is sooo much worse than i thought it was.” she whined, looking over her shoulder to face you, a big pout on her lips.

“i told you it was too hot out here sare.” you look at her sympathetically, her pout always being your weakness.

“i knowww, but i thought you were just making excuses so we could stay in bed all day.” she rolled her eyes a little, her pout still evident minus the little smile that creeped at the corner of her mouth. you rolled your eyes back, having already given in and started grabbing your few items you brought outside.

“alrighttt, go on. i’ll grab your stuff for you and meet you inside.�� you smiled at her, heading her direction. she sprung up at your response, rushing over to you and wrapping her arms around your neck.

“thanks babes. you’re the best.” she left a kiss on your cheek before running towards the doors of tanneyhill.

that’s how it always was with sarah. she’d do things that would be seemingly innocent, calling you babes, giving you cheek kisses, playfully swatting your ass.. things that if you two were just girl best friends, it would seem normal. but it always felt so different with her. but as always, you brushed the thoughts away, grabbing her things and following her inside.

when you made it in, she was no where to be found. you assumed she’d grabbed a drink and rushed up to relax in her room, which was thankfully air conditioned. you set your things down on the kitchen counter, and padded your way up the stairs to find her.

you found her just where you expected, lazily sprawled out on her bed, still in her strapless bikini set from when she was tanning.

“i’m so bored.” she groaned, lazily turning her head to face you when she heard you come in, not having enough energy to move the rest of her body.

“what should we do? come up with something.” she added, her attitude leaking through her words a little, seemingly crabby from the heat.

“i dunno. what do you normally do when youre bored?” you replied, your brain seemingly empty. normally you two always had something fun planned, or little random things to do. but both of you seemed to be spacing for once. she shrugged, and you sat on the edge of her bed.

you saw her laptop open on her desk, so you wandered over to grab it, thinking of putting on a movie or something until you came up with something better to do. but when you touched the mousepad to wake up the laptop, you were suprised to see what it was opened up to.

“jesus christ sare-“

“what?” she groaned, seemingly unalarmed until her eyes met the screen. her eyes widened, and she sprung up off the bed with a sudden burst of new found energy. but hearing her pounding feet, you swiftly picked up the laptop and held it high above your head.

“y/n put that down right now i’m serious!” she whined frustratingly, grappling at your arms and shoulders, trying to get you to put it down. you wanted to tease her though, even if it was just a little. you assumed it wouldn’t lead anywhere. nothing ever did between you two.

“you’re watching lesbian porn?? god if i had known i could’ve set you up with some links, you know im good for that stuff-“

“y/n put it down, okay? i was just-“ she continued to hop on her feet, standing her her toes, desperate to reach the laptop. “-curious!” she groaned, not giving up in her pursuit to steal the device from your grasp.

“curious, huh? that’s cute.” you grinned teasingly at her, and her eyes flickered to yours a few times as she persisted, her little hops and outstretched arms making you bite your lip to hold back a laugh.

after a few more minutes of struggle, the heat exhaustion seemingly flooded over her again and she let up, now standing flat on her feet infront of you. her arms were crossed, a heavy blush tinted not only her cheeks but most of her face. her eye brows were taught tight together in frustration.

“i just wanted to look at it. maybe learn a little- i-i don’t know, okay?? i don’t know why i was watching it.” she babbled, seemingly genuinely a little hurt and embarrassed, her eyes welling slightly. your heart stung a little.

“hey, hey, eeeasy. i was just messing with you sare. you’re okay.” you lowered the laptop, closing it and holding it against your side, using your free hand to cradle her cheek. ready to catch any tears that threatened to fall.

“you know if you ever had any questions you could come to me, right? i don’t know what kind of experience you have, but i’m and open book. i can help you, if you want.” you leaned down a little, forcing her to meet your eyes after hers had drifted away.

“you’d do that?” she mumbled, leaning into your hand a little.

“of course i would. only if you want to-“

“i want to.” she cut you off, meeting your eyes with a reassuring nod of her head. you felt your composure that you’d kept for so long start to slip, and you were beyond greatful nobody else was in tanneyhill that day.

she grabbed your hand and tugged you back over to her bed. you set her laptop down, opening it back up to the tab she had open. you two sat next to eachother, the silence not uncomfortable but terribly thick with tension.

“can-can we just watch some first? i don’t know really what i want to learn yet off the top of my head i just was watching-“

“yes. yes, of course sarah. whatever you want.” you cut her off this time, reassuring her, then pushing play on the porn. it was some random short clip. probably 2 minutes long, seemingly off of twitter or something. it was two girls, evidently scissoring. you let the video play for a couple seconds before reaching to scrub through it, seeing it was literally just a clip of two girls scissoring for multiple minutes straight.

“do you have any other clips of what you want to learn..? because this is just scissoring, sarah.” you couldn’t help but crack a smile, finding a little funny how blissfully innocent about this stuff.

you turned to look at her to see her eyes already boaring into yours, pupils blown wide. her head was tucked down a little, and her hands fidgeted in her lap, clearly trying to get a message acrossed without saying it.

“you just wanna learn how to do that, hm?” you cocked a brow at her, and smiled a little more when she nodded her head.

“you sure this is okay?” you said, resting your hand on her folded legs, slowly creeping it upwards. she gave you a small nod again.

“words, sare.” you creeped a little higher.

“yes, fuck- please, y/n.”

with that you felt your last bit of composure slip. you gently pushed her back against the bed, her head resting against the pillows. you tugged at the button on her shorts, looking up at her to see her give you another nod, quickly adding a muffled ‘yes’ after it. you tugged her shorts down, throwing them off to the side somewhere. you watched her face closely as you gently rubbed over her clothed clit. you knew sarah had been touched before, she’d talked about her experiences with exes, but you still wanted to be as gentle and slow with her as possible, as it was her first time with a woman.

“can i kiss you? please?” she said while wrapping her arms around your kneck. it broke you out of the trance you didn’t realize you had fallen under, staring at her clothed pussy. you looked back up to her, your own eyebrows furrowing with a smile.

“of course baby.” she was the one to lean up to meet your lips, her kisses quickly going from gentle to rushed and sloppy. she was clearly getting ancy as she ground her hips up into your hand, and you pulled aside her bikini to slip your fingers through her folds. she was completely soaked, a wet patch having already soaked through her bikini bottoms prior to you actually touching her.

she moaned at the relief of you finally touching her, breaking away from the kiss for a second. her mouth hung open, and she looked to where your hand met her.

“please, oh god- please- more, something- please” she ranted, still grinding up into you.

“easssy sweetheart, i want you to feel my fingers first-“

“no- please just fucking do the thing already.” she said, clearly still a little shy about the subject. she avoided your gaze, still relishing on your finger tips which circled heavenly around her clit.

“are you sure?” you clarified, slowing your hand to make sure you got a straight answer. frankly she was already soaked, you could scissor, but you figured she’d want to be warmed up first. you really wanted to take things slow with her, but you couldn’t deny the way her eagerness made you all the more aware of how soaked you were in your own panties.

“yes. yes, yes, yes, please y/n.” she begged, literally whining and begging at your disposal. her brows were taught with frustration, and her hips continued to eagerly sway against your hand.

“okay, okay.” you laughed a little, finally tugging off your own garments. a shiver ran down your spine when you unclasped your braw, you were unable to tell if it was the breeze from the air conditioner or the way she instantly reached for your chest. she massaged them in her hands, slightly more out of pure admiration at first, but then switching to teasing your nipples.

“fuck sarah-“ you groaned as you finally pulled your final piece of clothing off, your panties.

“i know it’s going to sound pretty fucking stupid but.. i’ve always wanted to touch your tits.” she grimaced a little as the words came out her mouth, sounding like a teenager. the two of you giggled for a second before she looked at you expectantly.

“are you-“

“yes, im positive. ive never been more sure.” she smiled up at you, her classic sarah glow finally peaking through, most if not all of her embarrassment having washed away.

you pulled away, settling yourself between her legs, getting into position. she reluctantly let go of your chest, and let you move her as you needed to. when you finally had situated yourself, you propped her left leg over your shoulder, giving her thigh a reassuring squeeze.

before you could instruct her, she ground up against you. what was supposed to be, on her part, just a grind of being impatient, she felt her clit rock perfectly up against yours.

“h-holy shit was that it?”

“mhm, you got it baby. keep goin, you got it.” you barely got the words out, clenching your jaw extremely hard at the sudden touch. she continued, easily setting a pace, you let her figure it out for a moment before finally grinding back into her, the two of you in unison. she let out a gasp which quickly turned into a moan.

“oh fu-fuuuck..” she tensed her eyebrows together.

“y/n?” she glanced back and forth from your face and where the two of you met, and her fists reached up to firmly grab the pillow behind her. you met her eyes, ready to stop, instantly assuming she was having second thoughts.

“yea sare? we can stop-“

“i swear to fucking god y/n do not stop.” she groaned the words out inbetween moans.

“i was just going to say-“ she stopped in between words, clearly struggling “im really really not going to last much longer.” she shot you an apologetic smile, before blabbering a few ‘it’s so good’ s, ‘don’t stop’ s, and ‘holy shit’ s under her breath.

“oh yea? s’it feel good baby? god you don’t know how long i’ve wanted to do this.” you ranted too, letting out a few groans of your own.

“oh fuckfuckfuck y/n- babe im-“

“let go sarah, i’ve got you baby. you’re doing so good.” she grinded desperately, her hips getting sloppy, the two of you now at totally different paces, yours being a steady fast rhythm and her being ragged and sharp. you could see your collective juices start to leak onto your stomach and your thighs with how random and miscalculated her thrusts were becoming, practically grinding against any part of you she could. her many short and high pitched whimpers, only egged you on further.

you watched as her orgasm finally hit her, her moans and whines coming to a climax, loud and overwhelming. her whole body shook, her stomach tensing and her arms loosing their grip on her pillow as she threw her head back. you could see her juices seeping out of her as you continued to grind on her, riding out her high and still chasing your own. it was when her sighs of relief turned into overstimulated whimpers that you too were finally thrown over the edge, your orgasm practically blinding you.

you fell back onto your elbows, collecting yourself for a moment before untangling your limbs and crawling up against her pillows, right next to her. she still breathed heavily, turning over to tuck herself into your armpit and throw an arm lazily over your mid drift. her hair was a mess, and you could see some of her mascara had smudged under her eyes. she looked so blissfully stunning.

“that was fucking awesome.” she said, cracking her classic sarah smile and letting out a little laugh, leaning on your chest to look up at you.

“yea, it was.” you smiled back at her, letting out a little laugh of your own to cover up the thoughts that were racing through your mind.

you had so many questions. where did we go from here? what about topper? will we ever be able to come back from this?

but as she tucked herself back into your armpit, seemingly overthrown by exhaustion, you didn’t dare ask. you were fine, and happy, in this moment.

#obx #outer banks #obx cast #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx imagine #obx smut #obx x reader #sarah cameron oneshot #sarah cameron fanfic #sarah cameron blurb #sarah cameron #sarah cameron smut

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bio-hazard · 4 days ago

Text

Now I've Found A Real Love (You'll Never Fool Me Again)

Charlie Slimecicle x Reader Fake Dating

ladies and gentlefish it's finally done. i think this is the longest fanfiction i've ever written and i cut a large portion of it out just to be able to get it done before christmas so i hope that you guys enjoy this (please enjoy this. i'll cry.)

15k words, only warnings for implied weed and cheating, drinking and a lot of guilt. i don't know why i gave reader anxiety. SFW with a few suggestive jokes but minors please dni with my work !! happy holidays ppl !!!!

. 🎄 . 🎁 . 🎄 .

Christmas time is supposed to be the “most magical time of the year”, with love and joy spread through the hearts of many. Apparently that wasn’t in the cards for you this year. You were supposed to go home for Christmas week with your boyfriend to introduce him to your family. Everything was going so well and you had been hyping him up for months now, bragging about how he was the perfect boyfriend.

Until he made you eat those words a day before you were supposed to leave, sitting among clothes and general things you would need for the week scattered around your bed when your phone buzzed and lit up to show the lockscreen of you kissing his cheek.

“hey so. i hate to say this but i dont think this is going to work out. i dont want to see you hurt and your a great person but i dont think im ready to meet your family yet. i think i should spend time alone to find myself. its not your fault ml”

Your smile fell as you read over the message again and again.

“merry xmas btw”

After a couple hours of coping very healthily and no emotional outbursts whatsoever, you wiped the last of your tears. Okay. This was fine! It was a single day before you were supposed to drive home and see almost all of your extended family for an entire week, and the man you had made sound like a fairy tale prince just dumped you over text!

If you showed up there, heartbroken and alone, you would never hear the end of it from all sides of the family.

…

You needed a new boyfriend.

Running through the list of people you knew would probably be easier than trying to find a stranger within a day, but you quickly ran into the issue that your family already knew most of your friends, and none would be able to easily pass as a boyfriend for a whole week without blowing it. So you moved on to secondary friends. People you had the number of for classes or your neighbours, people in your study group. Nothing. You fell back against your bed and stared at your contact list hopelessly, scrolling up and down as if that would make some new number magically appear. You had to face the reality of the situation; You were screwed.

The next morning you picked yourself up and got ready, showering and packing the rest of whatever items you hadn’t already shoved into a bag. The idea of cancelling on your study group appealed to you greatly, but some part of your mind reminded you that you had notes that a few of the others needed to copy down, and you wanted to stay in their good graces. So you gathered every inch of mental tape you had and held yourself together until you resembled a stable human being, and locked the door behind you as you left.

Walking into the library, the warmth hugged your face and you let out a quiet sigh as you loosened your scarf, kicked the snow off your boots, and moved deeper into the building to find the usual area everyone gathered in. It was a long table toward the back that a handful of you had claimed weekly for study meets. One of your close friends and a few others who had the same class, and a few who just liked the company and atmosphere. You knew everyone there by name and occasionally after studying you would all go out for food. Of course, you couldn’t stop thinking about your dilemma as you sat down and pulled out your books. You wouldn’t be able to focus on work much, but you could at least pretend you were being productive.

Handing your notes around the table, you took a look at everyone again and weighed your options. Either they didn’t fit what you remember telling your family, or they had met your family in one way or another. You sighed and stared down at the still shut textbook in front of you. None of the material seemed like it was near interesting enough to derail your current train of thought. Sitting up to say something to your friend, the sound of approaching footsteps caught your attention.

“Sorry, hope I’m not late!”

Turning your head the other way, you see a dark green jacket and look up at the man holding the back of the chair next to you. “This seat isn’t taken, is it?”

Your eyes widened. Charlie. Of course. He was a newer addition to the group, invited by a couple others you weren’t too close with. You didn’t know him too well, at most having been left alone at the table with him once or twice, but he was nice and funny and.. Well, you’d be lying to say he wasn’t conventionally attractive. He would match what you had told your parents almost perfectly. You just had to figure out how to ask him such a thing. Nothing you came up with sounded normal, or it just made you seem like some kind of creep trying to lie to their family. He’d mentioned doing a little acting before though, hadn’t he? Maybe you would have to bribe him— Before you knew it, everyone else had left the table, leaving you and Charlie alone in that area of the suddenly far too silent library.

He sighed and put his pencil down, closing his book and starting to pack his things. You panicked, cutting him off as he stood up and opened his mouth to speak.

“Can I ask a favour of you?”

He seemed slightly taken aback at how quickly you had spoken, but nodded slightly regardless.

“Sure.. What’s up?”

You took a deep breath and hoped you weren’t about to make an idiot of yourself.

“It’s.. a huge favour, and if you don’t want to, you can say no and we can pretend like I never asked but-” Pausing from nerves, you peeked up at him but he just seemed amused by your nerves, waiting for you to go on so before you knew it you started spilling your guts. “My boyfriend dumped me last night and tomorrow we were supposed to drive home to spend the week and visit my whole family for Christmas, but now he isn’t coming and I just spent the last few months acting like he was gonna be a big surprise so they don’t know too many details but I can’t go home alone or I’ll be embarrassed until the day I die and-”

Charlie waved his hand with a soft laugh and sat back down to be on your level.

“Hey- Hey. Take a breath.” He smiled patiently and waited for you to take a deep breath. “How can I help?”

“I need you to.. Pretend to be my boyfriend for the week in front of my whole family..?” You shakily asked, knowing how messed up that sounded.

Charlie stared at you with a strange look in his eye, but the same soft smile on his face. After a moment he shrugged and nodded. “Sure, why not?”

You blinked.

“Sorry?”

“Honestly, I didn’t have any plans for the holidays anyways so… A week full of free food and entertainment doesn’t sound half bad.”

You felt like your heart might explode. Charlie laughed softly at your reaction.

“Thank- Oh, god Charlie thank you, you don’t know how much this means to me.”

“What can I say, I'm a simple man. Here, I can give you my number and you can text me in the morning when you’re ready to go. Okay?”

You nodded and handed him your phone, ignoring the flutter in your stomach when his hand encased yours to take it. It’s not like you had feelings for him, he was just a nice guy willing to do you a favour. That’s all this was.

You waved as he excused himself and headed out.

What had you gotten yourself into?

The next morning, at a frankly unreasonable time to be awake, you had shoved all your things into your car and parked where Charlie had said would be the easiest to pick him up. The radio hummed Christmas music on the local station as you looked through the messages between you two so far. One of the first things Charlie had sent was a picture of a knitted christmas sweater that looked like it had seen many holidays and a collared shirt that looked ironed, asking what kind of people your parents were. You had to appreciate the dedication to being the perfect boyfriend, and said whatever he’s most comfortable in - But that you probably had a similar looking sweater waiting for you at home somewhere, to which he responded he couldn’t wait to see.

A knock on the passenger window snapped you out of your thoughts and only then did you realize you were smiling like an idiot. Charlie waved through the window, his face illuminated by what bits of moonlight remained as the sky began to lighten before the sun had fully risen, and motioned to his bags. You popped the trunk and hopped out, opening it and going to help him load it all in.

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” He politely waved you off and lifted it in with ease, and you definitely didn’t stare at the way the fabric of his jacket stretched across his arms as he did. He slammed the trunk shut with a hearty clunk before turning to you with a grin. “Shall we?”

You huffed out a laugh and nodded, getting back in the driver seat. He quickly slid into the seat beside you, stretching.

“It’s a long trip… Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Are you asking if I want to do the drive, or do this for a week?”

“I-”

“Because I do.” He nodded, a little too earnestly. “It’ll be okay, I’ll try not to make you look bad.” Charlie winked and glanced at the radio, then at your phone sitting in the cupholder beside you. “Your car, your rules. Who controls the music?”

The way he seemed so unbothered about the situation seemed to put you at ease for now, and you unlocked your phone and connected it to the car speakers before handing it to him.

“Surprise me, will you?”

“I won’t let you down.”

The two of you quickly took off and grabbed something to eat from a drive-through; Stopping to eat now would risk making you late. The weather seemed to be alright for now, but you were a bit nervous something would kick up before you were in the home stretch of your parents house. Charlie managed to calm your nerves every time with a joke or comment that would distract you from your worries. Eventually you two agreed that you needed a cohesive story to pull this off well, so you started by listing off things you remember having told your family about your ex, and Charlie nodded as he seemed to internalize all those traits, though you doubted he needed to fake most of these traits for your sake. Eventually you moved on to your story. How you met, dates you’d been on, mutual friends, and other various stories to sell that you had been close for the better part of a year rather than having maybe three conversations that weren’t purely about schoolwork and studying. Charlie even shared a bit more about himself for you to build on, and it shocked you a little how much you had in common and how little you really knew about him. Talking with him came so naturally, and he was so effortlessly funny that you wondered how you hadn’t become friends sooner. Part of you wondered if it could stay like this after you got home.

The conversation moved to boundaries. Knowing your family, there would be mistletoe somewhere in the house.

“Well,” Charlie hummed, thinking about it as he glanced out the front windshield. “I’m a pretty physical person, and I'm fine with PDA if that’s what you mean.”

You nodded and chewed the inside of your cheek.

“I just.. It’s all pretend, right? I don’t want to overstep-”

“We’ll probably be pushed together at one point or another anyways.” Charlie cut you off, looking at you. “So I’m fine with anything. Let’s maybe keep any kissing to a minimum though. Try to avoid mistletoe, yeah? Oh, and-” He tapped his bottom lip with his finger, smiling. “- No lips.”

There was a sigh, and you realized you had been holding your breath.

“Yeah, of course.”

He let out a little laugh as his smile grew.

“I know, that must be such a disappointment, nobody can resist this.” He sighed, as if this were a recurring issue. You ignored the way your stomach flipped at the thought of kissing him and laughed in response.

At one point you had stopped to refill the tank and Charlie offered to hold the pump while you ran inside to pay and get snacks (but no eggs, despite how many times he asked. You were not making your car smell like whatever gas station eggs must have smelt like.) Grabbing a drink for both of you and a handful of snacks, you plopped them all down on the counter and smiled at the cashier who started scanning the items.

“Is that your boyfriend on pump 2?” She asked, glancing at Charlie, who leaned against the car as he waited for you.

You stopped, and for some reason found yourself unable to answer. You were going to say that no, he was just a friend. …But then again, this was someone you’d probably never see again, and who probably didn’t actually care who he was in relation to you.

“Yeah, why?”

“Let him know that one acts up when it gets cold, he might have to be a little rough to make it work.” She shrugged and typed something into the register. “How much?”

You finished the transaction and walked out with a small bag of items, walking up to Charlie, who looked up from his phone.

“All good?”

“Yeah, she said it gets weird in the cold, be a little rough if you need to.” Charlie laughed a little and bit back a smile, and you felt a slight warmth in your cheeks that wasn’t from the cold.

“I can be rough.”

“Oh my god.” You groaned and shoved his arm as he grabbed the nozzle and pushed it into the car.

You didn’t mention that she called him your boyfriend. You kept it to yourself as you got into the passenger seat when Charlie insisted on driving until the next refuel. You let those words stew in your brain until he got in the driver’s seat and adjusted it to his size, familiarizing himself with your car as you stretched your legs.

After a few more short breaks and another gas station refuel where you took over driving, it’s dark again as you arrive. Charlie is intently watching all the lights on the houses as you drive up and pull into the driveway of your parents house. The whole place was decorated expertly, just as it had been every year for as long as you could remember. The sight was nostalgic.

Movement on the porch caught your eye as your mother and father came out to greet you. You killed the engine and gathered your things inside the car. Charlie was watching you when you looked up to him.

“Last chance.”

His hand slipped into yours with a gentle squeeze.

“I know.”

You look at your hands and smile softly before pulling away and exiting the car with a warm smile for your parents. It’s a moment of you three alone before the passenger door opens and Charlie steps out.

“There he is!” Your mother gasped and put a hand on your shoulder. “I was starting to think you were just making up fairytales.”

You laughed softly and shook your head.

“Mom, Dad, this is Charlie… My boyfriend.” Charlie walked up and wrapped an arm around you, extending a hand to your father, who shook it with a nod. Your mom pulled him in for a hug, and he quickly reciprocated, pulling away with a mirth in his eyes you hadn’t seen before.

“Oh, he’s just as lovely as you said, dear.” Your mother smiled and Charlie shrugged one shoulder as he moved his arm back around you.

“Well, I do my best.” He chuckled. “I gotta say, I'm a huge fan of your work.” Charlie motioned to you, and your mother laughed. “I didn’t believe angels were real until I met this one.”

You flushed and glanced away, which only made your mother laugh more. He instantly fell into rhythm with your family, giving off this perfect charm that made him nearly glow along with the Christmas lights around you all. It felt so genuine, every compliment that fell from his lips and the way he spoke to your parents was nothing short of naturally impressive.

Part of you wondered if it would play out like this if you had genuinely brought him home. If he would have his arm around your shoulders the same, make jokes that enamoured your parents just like he was now. You wondered if he would kiss your cheek and you would be rid of this weight in your chest. This guilt that came with lying to your parents, and soon enough your whole family. Before you could spiral any further into this train of thought, Charlie is nudging your shoulder.

“Oh, sorry- Yeah?”

He smiled down at you reassuringly, squeezing your shoulders as if he could read your mind. You wondered if he could. You wondered if he would leave you if he heard your thoughts now-

“Can you unlock the trunk for me?”

“Yeah, of course.” You reached for your keys and hit the trunk button.

Once again he’s insisting on taking his own luggage, so you grab your bags and bring them inside as your mother talks about the plans she has for the week and your father leads the march inside and up the stairs. You take a moment to admire the house, mostly decorated with little christmas details and festive colours covering every surface. Your parents loved to go all out for the holidays. The bigger decorations were still missing, and you figured they had been waiting for you and your boyfriend to come home and help them with those. Free labour, of course.

Quickly following up the stairs after Charlie, you see him standing in a doorway you immediately recognize. Oh no.

You had entirely forgotten that with extra guests coming over, the guest rooms would be taken up by other family members, leaving you in your old bedroom. Alone with Charlie. With one bed.

That was fine! It was fine, really!

Looking at Charlie’s face, he seemed to have connected the same dots as you.

Your dad left you to unpack and get settled in, saying he would meet you both downstairs and that dinner would be ready soon.

“I’m so sorry, I totally forgot about.. This. I can sleep on the floor if you-”

Charlie cut you off by shaking his head with a flustered laugh. His cheeks were slightly flushed as he looked to you with a hapless smile.

“It’s fine, really. Wouldn’t be the first time I shared a bed with someone. Besides, it's a queen by the look of it. We’ll both fit just fine. Try not to hog the blankets though, I might have to fight you for that.” He moved to the foot of the bed and dropped his bags to the ground, looking around. “So this is your room huh? It’s..” He seemed to bite something back, and it gave you a rush of worry. “It’s nice. I like it.”

You definitely weren’t freaking out right now. You were so normal and were doing fine as he ran his hand over the top of your dresser and looked at all the decorations. Admittedly it was a bit strange to see your room so.. Un-lived in, but it still felt like yours.

“We should probably head down and wash up for dinner.” You ignored the fluttering in your gut as he giddily pointed at a few items he recognized, brushing it off with a smile.

Surprisingly, dinner was rather uneventful. Charlie complimented your mothers cooking and answered a few questions about himself, and the four of you mostly talked about college, what had been going on in the neighbourhood and how the drive here had gone. You told Charlie that you’d help clean up by yourself, but he insisted on helping you clear the table and do the dishes. It felt oddly domestic, especially as you two started flicking water at each other, having to be stopped by your mother scolding you for getting water on her floors.

Your parents retired for the night shortly after that, and you and Charlie figured it would be best to follow suit. Heading upstairs with a quiet conversation, you were faced with a dilemma. You two weren’t about to change in front of each other, and you were not about to just have him cover his eyes and turn around.

“There’s always the bathroom,” Charlie offered, jabbing his thumb back towards the hallway.

“Yeah but- You’re the guest, making you change in the bathroom is a bit rude isn’t it?” He shrugged.

“This is your room, it’s only fair you get to change in here in my opinion.”

You went back and forth a bit more, before Charlie just grabbed his bag and headed to the bathroom anyways. There wasn’t much you could’ve done to convince him anyways, you assumed. A quick change later and there was a soft knock.

“Am I good to come back in?”

“Yeah, come in.”

Sitting on the bed, you went over your options until you had agreed to just bite the bullet and try to sleep on the far sides of the bed to avoid any awkwardness of sleeping with each other. As you stared out the window, the stars glittered, snow fell, and you drifted to sleep trying to guess what was a star and what was a snowflake.

The sun hit your face as you woke up, groaning. You rolled over and threw your arm over your face to shield yourself, only to find yourself now beside something warm. It only took a second to remember it was Charlie, and it took a couple more seconds to pull away and open your eyes to see he was raising an eyebrow at you with a quiet laugh.

“Good morning.”

“... Hi.”

He looked back to his phone in his hand, typing something out before turning it off and putting it down.

“I wasn’t sure when your family got up, I didn’t want to be sitting down there alone.”

“So you sat here and watched me sleep..?”

“No!- No, I didn’t-” Charlie’s eyes widened as he shook his head, only relaxing when he saw you smile and try not to laugh. He sighed, then squinted. “Wait..”

“What?” You sat up to look at him, rubbing your eyes and making yourself a little less dishevelled.

“If you were sleeping… And I was watching you sleep…” He turned to you, doing his best mewing expression. “Who’s watching Foxy..?”

You blinked a few times before dissolving into giggles. Charlie grinned at the praise as you covered your face and groaned. “Wanna go get breakfast now? It’s a little after nine.”

Swallowing down the last bubbles of laughter you nodded and pulled the blanket off of you as you got up. Charlie followed shortly after. Another bout of arguing over who would change where began until he once again moved to the bathroom, and you figured that trying to fight him any more on this would get you nowhere.

Padding down the stairs, you got to looking around the kitchen for something to eat. The only thing you could think of was cereal so you pulled out a box of something plain, and Charlie made a face.

“What?”

“I mean, is there.. Anything else? It’s okay if there isn’t just..”

You look back in the pantry and hummed.

“I don’t see anything. Knock yourself out though.”

Charlie walked over as you moved to your bowl and poured out the cereal. You looked over to see him stuck halfway into the shelves, kicking a foot up before pulling out a colourful box triumphantly. You laughed and recognized it as something you hadn’t gotten to eating before you moved out as he opened it.

“How old is that? When does it expire, even?”

“The bag is still sealed, so it's still fresh right?”

The bag popped open as he pulled it apart and dumped it into his bowl, taking a piece and eating it. “Still crunches.”

You laughed and shook your head, passing him the milk. The two of you sat there, you on the counter and him leaning against it as you two ate and talked quietly as the snow outside reflected warmth and light in the window and made miniature rainbows through the frost and decorations.

Your mother poked her head into the kitchen with a box full of decorations hanging out of it.

“There you are! When you’re done, can I borrow you two for a bit to help me finish getting these decorations up? Your father is out shovelling and handling the front of the house. Lord knows Ashley will have something to say if there’s no wreath on the front door..” She sighed and shook her head.

“Yeah, of course Mom.” You smiled and nodded, and Charlie gave a thumbs up with his mouth being full. She caught a glimpse of the colourful cereal in his bowl and gave it a strange look, but seemed to brush it off as she walked away.

“Ashley?” Charlie looked at you with a raised eyebrow after he swallowed.

“One of my aunts,” You glanced at him, then realized you should probably give him an idea of who he would be dealing with for the rest of the week. Charlie nodded intently as he brought another spoonful to his mouth while listening to you list off family members. “Then of course, there's my Aunt Ashley. She’s… She has high standards.” That was probably the easiest way to describe her eccentricities. “She lives the closest, so she was over a lot with her kids, Bella and Alice. Uh.. Be careful with Alice. She’s a bit of a hopeless romantic.”

Charlie squinted like he was trying to mentally write this all down.

“Don’t worry,” You laughed. “I’ll be sure to refresh you when they show up.”

He nodded, looking incredibly serious before he tilted his head back to drink the rest of the milk in the bowl, and there were a handful of thoughts you couldn’t repeat out loud that went through your mind when he pulled the bowl away and licked the remaining milk off his lips.

“Let’s uh- Let’s go help Mom, yeah?” You swallowed and glanced away, shaking the thoughts from your head. Charlie nodded and the two of you finished up in the kitchen before going through the house to find your mother.

Standing in the den, she was staring intently at the large Christmas tree with her hands on her hips. You knew this stance. She was probably planning out every possible way she could put garland and ribbons onto everything in sight, and would try to execute as many of those plans as possible before settling on one. At least you had Charlie, who was currently staring in awe at what decorations were already out.

“Just wait,” You leaned over and whispered. “It gets better.”

Charlie gave you a wide eyed look.

She quickly got everyone to work, pinning and taping things to the walls, lining each shelf with white stuffing to mimic snow, pulling out box after box of trinkets and little ornaments to set along everything. You wondered how many of these would get broken this year if the younger kids would be running around.

After the den was lathered in Christmas, you moved on to deck every hall and doorway with garland and lights. It would make for a magical walkway at the end, but for now you were watching Charlie struggle to not break a sweat with how much lifting and back and forth your mother had him do. Leave it to her to immediately put people to work when it comes to Christmas.

Taking a short break while she stepped outside to talk with your dad, you and Charlie sat down on the stairs after he finished wrapping the railing with glittering lights and tying bows to every other bannister.

“Where do you guys keep all this stuff year round?” Charlie glanced up to you as you straightened out one of the bows. “I mean it looks great but…”

“Storage containers in the basement. Trust me, getting it all out and decorating is the easy part.” A look of concern flashed across his face, which only made you laugh harder. “Don't worry, we’ll be gone by then.”

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck with a quiet laugh.

“It's nice, though. Like it really adds to the atmosphere and everything. Makes it feel cozy.” He glanced around and flicked at one of the lights gently. “How many people are gonna show up anyways? It’s a big house but I feel like it's gonna get cramped pretty quick.”

You had to think about that for a while. Each side had quite a few people on it, but knowing who would actually be showing up was always a bargain. Humming quietly, you reached into the box of decorations and pulled out a little bell on a string, reaching forward and hanging it on Charlie's ear with a grin.

“I’m not sure. I'll do my best to give you a rundown on everyone before they start talking your ear off though.”

Charlie tilted his head and felt for the foreign object on his ear, giving a confused laugh as he pulled it off and looked at it, then immediately turned back at you with mischief in his eyes.

Your mother walked back in the house to see you two laughing and shouting as you practically wrestled on the stairs to adorn each other with decorations.

She cleared her throat and the two of you quickly stopped to look at her, having been caught. Your mother crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow as she looked between you two and the mess of decorations you'd made.

“Having fun?”

After being made to clean up your mess, the three of you moved all over the house throughout the day decorating and redecorating, only stopping to get a drink or small snack. While looking through the remaining boxes, you held up a handful of mistletoe and looked at your mom.

“Do we really have to put all of this up? It seems a little… Much.”

“Of course we do, hun!” Your mother nodded like it was obvious and grabbed one from your hand, moving over to one of the doorways to hang it up among the garland. “It's tradition. Plus, it's nice! That's how you get all the cute candid pictures of people kissing.”

You sighed and resigned yourself to just trying your best to memorize where all of them were hung to avoid while walking around with Charlie.

“Go hang at least one in the front foyer for me, please?” She motioned to the remaining mistletoe in your hand then waved you towards the front of the house. You sighed and dropped the extra mistletoe back in the box, grabbing the stool she had pulled out a while ago and moved to the front of the house.

“Oh, there you are.” Charlie smiled as he walked up to you, watching you struggle to reach the garland to tie the mistletoe up.

“Yeah- Hey-” Reaching further didn’t seem to help either, the stool being just a bit too short to get up to where you needed. After a couple more moments of struggling, you sighed and turned to Charlie. “Care to lend me a hand?”

What you hadn’t expected was for Charlie to wrap his arms around your thighs from where you stood on the stool and lift you onto his shoulder.

Your mind went blank.

Why was that so easy for him??

“Is that tall enough?” Charlie’s voice was enough to snap you out of your daze and hang the mistletoe, trying your best not to think about how easily he grabbed you or about how you two were technically under mistletoe.

“Uh- Yeah that’s- Good- Great. Yeah, thanks.” You stumbled through the words, bringing your hands down to his shoulders to steady yourself before he set you back down and smiled up at you like he didn’t do anything.

Maybe this was an overreaction. Maybe you just had to calm down and he didn’t realize you meant for him to hang the stupid plant. Surely that was it! He was just taking the easiest path for him and there were no hidden intentions in his actions. Charlie was just an acquaintance doing you a major favour, and honestly you had to think about why he would even do such a thing? Someone like him must’ve had a nice family, or at least someone deserving of his charm to spend the holidays with, rather than spend a week keeping up some silly ruse and oh- Oh, he’s talking and you absolutely aren’t listening.

“Sorry, uh- Pardon?” You shook your head and looked down at him from your place on the stool.

“I asked how much you think is left?” Charlie tilted his head and looked around.

You stepped off the stool, silently praying you didn’t fall on him. That was the last thing you needed.

“Probably not much, Mom could handle the rest.”

The two of you walked around the house, collecting and stacking the empty decoration boxes. Hints of your mother’s work popped up around the house, the two of you almost constantly walking into mistletoe. Maybe keeping up with what doorways had it would be a bit harder than you expected.

Eventually everything was decorated and cleaned up, and you were helping your mother start supper. The radio gently hummed Christmas music through the room as you peeled potatoes and listened to your mother speak about some drama or other you had missed and she hadn’t told you about.

Charlie walked into the kitchen and watched you for a moment before resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Oh- Hi, Charlie.” You glanced at him slightly, to see him softly smiling with his eyes shut. He just hummed warmly in response and moved his hands to your waist. You hardly skipped a beat falling back into conversation with your mother, despite the way you felt your face warm. He didn’t move for a while after that either, only pressing his face into your neck after a while, to which your mother gave a look that you waved off. After a while you had to quietly ask him to move so you could keep helping to prepare the dinner, to which he kissed your shoulder and whispered to you that he was going to take a nap. Your mother teased you when you seemed to short circuit after he pulled away. You finished helping and did your best not to think about the warmth emanating from where he had kissed you, and when the oven timer went off an hour or so later, your mother asked you to go wake him.

“Charlie..? Are you awake?” You gave the door a soft knock. There was the sound of some kind of movement in the bedroom, and then the door opened. Charlie’s hair was messy and his eyes were still tired. “Oh. Uh, dinner is ready..”

“Oh, already? Alright..” He yawned and nodded. You tried to ignore the way his tired voice got to you. He had always woken up some time before you, is that really what he sounded like after an hour of sleep?? “I’ll wash up and be down there soon.”

The conversation at dinner seemed to be entirely around Charlie and his interests and history. You wondered if they were trying to do some kind of weird interrogation or shovel talk, but when he started talking about some of his nerdier interests you saw your mother light up. There it was. You definitely knew what this talk was about.

The day ended with your mother telling you that tomorrow would be full of baking and that the sooner you could get up and help, the more the two of you could get done. Mentally preparing for that, you nodded and wished her goodnight. Charlie stayed up a bit later, waking you slightly when he came to bed, apologizing quietly as he moved the blankets. You don’t exactly remember falling back asleep, but you could’ve sworn you felt something warm press against your forehead.

You woke up before Charlie this time, watching him for a moment as his chest slowly breathed. Slipping out of the bed, you grabbed your clothes and slipped into the bathroom to change before you headed downstairs.

It was mornings like these you really missed. The sun freshly risen, pouring onto the tiled floor through the frosty windows, giving the perfect mix of warmth and chill as you padded into the kitchen and quickly made yourself something for breakfast. The birdsong outside melted into the sound of the radio as you turned it on and lowered the volume to a non-disturbing hum. Rifling through cabinets you pulled out the usual cookbooks and recipes you’d need today and any of the usual baking necessities. Your mother yawned as she walked into the kitchen and smiled at you as you tied an apron around your waist

“Someone’s eager this morning. Did you miss this that much?” She laughed quietly and hugged you before making herself something to eat. The two of you quickly got to work after that, making doughs and mixtures, prepping for any later baking. There were a few things she had already gotten the headstart on earlier that she took out of the fridge to check on.

Charlie walked down a while later, rubbing his eyes. He seemed a little taken aback to see the kitchen already so messy, taking it all in. You stopped to admire his tired look, the way the sun glowed against his skin and lit his hair up, the dust roaming the air making him look like he glittered. He moved his gaze to you and gave a lopsided smile before walking up and gently brushing his thumb across your cheek.

“Wh-?”

“You had flour on your face,” He hummed. His voice was tired like yesterday, and it took all of your power to not melt into his hands right then and there. You almost forgot your mother was in the room.

“I have to help with baking all day, so I’ll have to stay in the kitchen, I’m sorry.” Charlie shook his head.

“I’d love to help, if that’s okay. My mom owns a bakery, so I’m not unfamiliar with baking.”

It reminded you how little you actually knew of him. Sure, you could talk for hours but with such little time in general, there was still a lot you were completely unaware of. The sobering pang of guilt that ran through your nervous system ruined the soft moment between you at the thought of it.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded and you found him another apron to wear, but the only one left that was his size was half of a pair for your parents. Your moms had been stained and discarded a while ago. You tried not to laugh at the awful baking pun on the front, but Charlie seemed to light up as he read the apron. He proceeded to make similar puns throughout the day, and no matter how hard you tried to groan and act like you hated it, you couldn’t fight the smile on your face whenever you heard the pride in his voice while he made one.

Your mother handed baking off to the two of you after the first batch, and you had half a mind to assume it wasn’t because she needed to “do things” like she said, but rather that she was just giving you room to be alone with him. Not that you needed it, you were just two just two friends baking together. ..Though you supposed she didn't know that part.

You sighed as you kneaded the dough in your hands against the counter. You’d been working at it for a couple minutes now and couldn’t figure out what was going wrong or why it wouldn’t come together properly. Charlie walked over from where he was mixing icing and stood next to you to peer at your hands.

“It keeps falling apart, I don’t know what I did wrong...” You glanced at him for a moment before squishing it all together again. Charlie hummed and turned to look for something as you tried to start a proper conversation. “You said your mom owned a bakery? I didn't know that.” He walked back over with something in his hands, and you quickly lost your train of thought as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you to grab the dough, leaning into your ear with a quiet tone.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

You were suddenly very glad he was pressing you against the counter, because you swore your knees would’ve given out from under you right then and there otherwise. Your face felt warm as his chest pressed against your back and his arms flexed on either side of your shoulders. His breath was soft against your ear, and you could almost feel his grin despite how hard you tried to avoid looking at him until you remembered how to breathe and wow, was it warm in here? It was really warm. Maybe you left the oven open? God, it was so warm–

“There. You just needed to add a little moisture. Butter works fine for that.” He slowly pulled away, and it felt like you had freezer burn everywhere he had touched. You peeked at him from the corner of your eye, desperately trying to act normal.

“Yeah.. Thanks.” Your voice cracked as you spoke. Of course it did.

Charlie chuckled and went back over to the icing and checked on it before moving over to where the piping bags sat for now. You took a deep breath and reached for the rolling pin, trying to keep your cool. What the hell was that?? There was nobody but you two in the kitchen right now, right? If that was part of the act, who was it for? Did he see something you hadn’t? Some hopeful part of you piped up with the thought that it wasn’t an act. That he wanted to do that. That he meant it. A much more realistic part of your mind suggested that he simply didn’t realize what that just did to you. From lifting you yesterday to what just happened? Yeah, maybe he was just a little oblivious. You couldn’t see the dramatic irony to this.

After you had finally rolled out the dough and put a few batches into the oven, you moved to help Charlie with the icing. He seemed to be lacking a bit, and it was taking up your cooling racks.

“Need some help over here?” You smiled and glanced around at the cookies.

“Uhh,” He started, squinting as his tongue poked out in focus. “Mm.. Maybe. I thought I'd have more done by now.” Charlie stood up and looked across the eight cookies he had so dutifully iced thus far. His eyebrows furrowed. You grabbed one of the other colours and wiped off the excess that had leaked out with your thumb.

“Don’t worry. Worst case, we just eat the rest of the icing and tell mom we ran out.” You shrugged with a playful grin, bringing the icing on your thumb to your mouth — only for Charlie to grab your hand and steal the icing with his own finger. “Hey–!!”

He shot you a grin as he licked his lips, so you squeezed a little more out. This time he grabbed your wrist and pulled it towards his mouth. You gasped and shoved your hand forwards, smearing it on the corner of his lips and onto his cheek. Five minutes later the two of you were messy and covered in icing, bags now much lighter from smearing it on each other and trying to eat the icing.

You only stopped when there was a knock on the door and your mother walked through the kitchen to reach it, stopping to look at you two with a bewildered gaze for a moment, before continuing on when another knock sounded.

You two looked at each other and tried not to laugh, before you ultimately failed and burst into laughter. It only took one warm cloth and a couple minutes to wipe up most of the mess, meanwhile you heard the door open and the sound of shuffling and muffled talking.

A familiar face poked into the kitchen, breaking out into a grin.

“Ohh, there you are!” Isabella grinned and straightened up, walking in with a bag over her shoulder and her arms out for a hug. You gasped and handed the cloth to Charlie before making your way over to hug her.

“Bella! How are you??” You pulled away and looked her over with a matching smile.

“Not as good as you apparently,” She leaned over to look at Charlie. “Who’s this?”

Her younger sister, Alice, came around the corner and nearly fell over as her socks made her slide to a stop. A shout came from where she had been, likely from her mother scolding her for running in the house.

“Oh my god!!” You quickly felt two arms around your waist as she careened into you for a hug, once again unable to stop short due to her socks. “I missed you so much! It’s been like, forever??” Alice stared up at you with a gasp from where she was bent over to hug you.

“You saw me at Easter, Alice.” You laughed and pulled her up to hug properly, where she quickly gasped again.

“Hello there, handsome-”

“Al, give him a chance to introduce himself before you start with that.” Isabella groaned and pulled her sister back by the shoulder.

You laughed at their usual antics and glanced back at Charlie, who was quickly trying to wipe any leftover flour and icing off himself to look presentable.

“This is Charlie. My boyfriend.” The word came out more confident than when you had said it to your parents, but you tried not to dwell on that.

“Your boyfriend.” Isabella raised her eyebrow suspiciously. “The boyfriend?”

A bit of that guilt came back as a burning sensation in your throat you couldn't quite swallow down. Isabella was always the one to see through your lies no matter how hard you tried. You never quite forgave her for telling your mother you were lying when she found the broken TV as kids.

“Not bad.” She nodded approvingly.

You tried not to make your sigh of relief too obvious.

“Sooo…” Alice started, slipping out of her sister's grasp before looking Charlie up and down. “Got any brothers? Maybe some cute friends..?”

Charlie laughed nervously and pushed his hair out of the way, coming up to your side and leaning against you slightly. Alice could be a bit much at first, so you leaned back against him in what you hoped was read as a reassuring movement.

“I don’t know about that..” He smiled apologetically.

“Alice, come help your father with the bags please?” Your Aunt Ashley’s voice came from somewhere closer out of sight, saving Charlie from this conversation for now. He sighed, but you knew better. She’d be back.

A dinging started behind you signaling that the oven timer was through, causing Charlie to pat your shoulder as he turned to get it. Conversation with Isabella came as easy as ever, only for her to fall silent after a minute. You turned and followed her gaze to see Charlie bent over pulling out a rack of cookies. His hair fell over his face and the apron hugged him rather nicely. Any heat on your face was silently blamed on the open oven.

“Nice.”

You scoffed and shoved her halfheartedly. You weren't disagreeing with her, but she didn't need to say it.

Charlie turned and kicked the oven door shut in one smooth motion, raising the tray with a grin as he moved to the cooling trays.

“Bella, was it? Care for a snack?” He motioned to the pile of undecorated cookies, then glanced at the subtle remains of your icing fight and quickly smudged it away with his hand.

Isabella glanced at you, then at him. She didn't need to say it, there was some snarky comment bouncing around up there loud enough for you to hear it anyways. She had always been like this, since you were kids really. It drove her mother mad, but she managed to worm her way out of any sort of punishment every time. You really wished you knew how she did it.

“Yeah, I'll take a cookie.” She shrugged and raised a hand. Charlie looked at you, then around for your mother, and tossed a cookie toward your cousin.

They quickly got settled in, already having usual places from how often they come over for more than a night, meanwhile you and Charlie finished up what baking was left and tidied up the kitchen.

You moved in such sync that it almost felt natural, like this is what you were meant to be doing with your time. It made you feel warm inside, easily passing things to him and sweeping as he wiped the counters down. By the end, the kitchen looked like it had never been touched and smelled like all sorts of freshly baked treats.

The sun had already begun to set, and you had managed to escape the constant questions of your Aunt for now. You loved her, really! But from the moment she had seen you it was a hug, a kiss on each cheek and nonstop questions ever since. Doing your best to answer didn't seem to help much either because every answer opened up a hundred more questions thrown at you too fast to possibly answer them all. Sure, you felt a little guilty throwing Charlie under the bus here by slipping away when he would surely be the next victim, but he had it handled! … Probably.

The front of the house was shoveled to create a simple salted walkway that you followed to the front of the garage to sit on the hood of your car.

“Oh, hey.”

Your attention was caught by Isabella leaning against your parents car, out of sight of the windows and front door. She had something in her hand that she pressed to her lips and pulled away, turning her head to exhale smoke. Oh. That was how she stood her own mother.

“Hey, Bella.” You walked up and leaned against your car across from her, to which she held the pen out to you.

“Hey. Wanna hit?”

“No, thanks. I'm trying to at least keep it together for the week.” You laughed and shook your head a little, putting your hands in your pockets as you looked out across the street at the glittering snow and colourful lights.

“Ohh, yeah. Trying to keep it together for that so-called boyfriend of yours, right?”

“... So-called?”

“Yeah,” She chuckled and nodded. “There's no way you're actually dating him, right?”

“Look, if you have something against Charlie-”

“No, dumbass. He's fine. I'm talking about you.”

You stared at her, confused. So, she continued. “You guys have something going on, but whatever it is, it isn't dating. Not for as long as you say, at least. So either you've been lying about this guy and only recently started dating, or you aren't dating at all and you're faking it.”

“When did you get so perceptive?” You crossed your arms. Trying to lie to her would get you nowhere. “And what's it matter to you?”

She shrugged and took another puff, blowing it into the wind away from you.

“It's not too hard to see. You might have to step your game up though. If Alice catches on it's over for you.” Isabella joked. “I dunno why, though. It doesn't seem like you to pull this kind of stunt.”

Sighing, you figured hiding it from her would only make things worse.

“I got dumped over text by my actual boyfriend.”

There was a beat, and then Isabella broke out into laughter, covering her mouth.

“Over text??”

You gave her an unimpressed look.

“Oh my god- You aren't gonna let that slide, right? You totally have got to kick his ass for that one.” She shook her head, trying to stifle her giggles. After a couple moments she took a deep breath. “Have you even let yourself come to terms with that? I mean, c’mon. When was it?”

“A couple days ago. Just before we drove out.”

Isabella's eyes bulged.

“And you're just? Okay with that?? Acting like nothing happened? Cuz’ you gotta, like, go kick his ass and then properly cry about that or something. You earned it after it. … Can I see the text?”

Sighing, you pulled your phone out and opened the texts, handing it to her. Isabella nodded as she read over it and hissed.

“What an asshole…” There was a minute of silence as she handed you back your phone and took another hit. “I'm sure your man in there wouldn't do the same, though.”

“Oh shut up-” You shoved her, to which she laughed.

“I’m just saying! He seems like prime boyfriend material. You should get on that. Literally.”

The two of you continued talking a little, and you really had to reckon with that thought. Did you like him that much? Surely you wouldn't be having these feelings about anyone else had they come, right? She pocketed her pen and went inside, leaving you to watch the occasional car drive by and the lights on each house flash and change. Eventually you followed her back in and hung up your coat, grabbing a pair of cookies as you made your way back to the main gathering. Charlie was sat on the couch trying to keep up with the conversation, so you just sat next to him and handed a cookie. He lit up at the sight of you and thanked you as he took it, wrapping an arm around your shoulders when you leaned up against him.

Isabella gave you a playful look, to which you rolled your eyes and slightly moved closer to Charlie.

You found yourself warming up to the thought of this being something you could strive for, something reasonable and within reach. When that guilt started to rise again, Charlie squeezed your shoulders and made a small joke. The warmth of his arm and his tone drove away whatever bad feelings there were in your mind. Right now, everything was okay. You and Charlie were warm and happy and having a good time. That's all that mattered.

Considering you had a much earlier start than usual, you excused yourself to bed and Charlie quickly agreed. Isabella made some comment about you two having fun, and you had to try not to laugh as her mother smacked her arm. You walked up the stairs after Charlie and changed in your respective places. After you finished you fell into the bed and sighed, shutting your eyes. There was a knock and Charlie walked in a moment later, seeing you there.

“Tired?”

You nodded, letting out some sort of groan in response.

“Yeah, me too. I'm whipped.”

You peeked an eye open to see him grinning.

“Charlie.”

“Completely cooked. ” He walked over to his side of the bed.

“That doesn't even make sense.”

“I'm just saying…” Charlie followed your lead and fell onto the bed, smiling at you when you turned to look at him. “We really got that bread.”

“Stop.”

“Hey, at least I wasn't like your cousin. She was baked.”

You groaned loudly and shoved a hand into his face, biting your lip to stop from giving him the reaction he was looking for. Charlie laughed and pulled your hand away, continuing to make awful quips until the two of you fell asleep.

In the early light of Christmas Eve, you slowly blinked to life after a dream that was already melting away like watercolours before realizing there was something warm wrapped around you. In your haze, and the chill of the room around you. This didn’t ring any alarms in your mind at first, instead opting to hold it closer. You entwined your fingers with the ones against your stomach before you stopped. Fingers? Blinking open your eyes, you look down and see what you immediately put together to be Charlie’s arm wrapped around you. The world seems to hold its breath as you do, carefully picking up his arm and moving it back onto his own chest. He groans and stretches, and you quickly avert your gaze as his shirt rides up. Looking through your closet is when you hear him yawn and the bed creaks slightly as he sits up. You poke your head out and smile at him.

“Good morning.”

He rubs his eyes and yawns again, looking over to find you, nodding and smiling softly.

“Good morning. Anything planned for today..?”

You hummed and grabbed your clothes for the day.

“I think it’s just going to be a lot of socializing. The kids are all excited for Christmas tomorrow and most of the adults are here. It uh…” You hesitate and glance away in thought, before looking back to Charlie apologetically. “It might be a bit stuffy today. I’m sure we’re gonna get swarmed with those cliche family questions that they’ve been nice enough to hold off on. Once that wine gets uncorked though, we’re in for it. Ashley is well acquainted with how to pour a new glass of wine…”

Charlie laughed and stretched again, standing up and moving over to his suitcase to grab clothes. The two of you split up to get dressed and walked down the stairs together.

The day was warm and filled with your family running about and chatting, but you knew this was tame compared to what tomorrow would look like. Christmas music filled every silence and there were multiple glasses of eggnog laying around. The tree looked more and more full as new gifts were added to the underside, eventually spilling out and off the tree skirt. Conversations felt like the same interaction over and over again, asking how they were, they asked how you were. You’d give the same generic answers over and over with a little extra here and there for flavour depending on who you were talking to. Sure, it was repetitive and a little boring at times, but it was Christmas, and this was the most you’d talk to some of these people all year. It wasn’t that you were distant, they just had their own busy lives.

Charlie would occasionally pop in and join the conversation, talking about his own life when asked, or about one of your made up stories of your supposed love life. That guilt swirled in your gut again, rising like bile in your throat. Your realization last night wasn't helping either, making this even worse. The way he got along with your family so easily, the way they would make remarks when he wasn't there about how lucky you were to have found him. Honestly, you agreed. You couldn't understand how you'd lucked into getting such a wonderful man to ever agree to such a stupid plan, but here he was, playing the part perfectly.

Stepping into the backyard and out of the general hum of chatter in the house, you took a deep breath. The cold winter air stung in such a sobering way that it calmed you instantly. It was just an act, you reminded yourself. You'll go back to school and act like this never happened. Sure, your relationship with him would have changed by now, but what did that matter? It didn't change that this meant nothing. You were just putting on an act for your family.

Your feelings were different, but how could you possibly bring up the thought of actually dating after this? Sure, nothing had gone too wrong - which you were thankful for - but surely it would be awkward to drive home just to ask him out again, right? Considering he had agreed just for entertainment's sake, you figured he probably didn't share your feelings. Sure, he’d been much more forward than you had expected but maybe that was part of his act.

Wallowing in your wishy-washy thoughts, you almost missed the way the door opened and shut behind you, and Charlie stepped out with his jacket on. He smiled and gave a quiet wave as he walked over and sat on the side of the porch next to you, bumping his shoulder into yours.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

You two didn’t say more than that for a while, sitting there and watching the stars in the sky as snow started to fall. It was hard to see the stars normally at home, so you appreciated every moment you could watch them glitter and shine. The snow was small and light as it fell, flashing little shimmers of light caught from the house behind you. Charlie stayed silent in your peripheral vision, and you let your leg fall against his. Sure, this was all an act, but it felt nice nonetheless. Would it be so bad to allow yourself the guilty pleasure of enjoying this just a little?

A shooting star flashed across the sky, disappearing so quickly you almost weren't sure you’d seen it in the first place. You gasped as you pointed to the sky and turned to Charlie, only to see him staring at you.

“Did you see that? The shooting star??”

“Oh,” He breathed and looked up at the sky. “No, I must've just missed it. Are you gonna make a wish? Make sure you get what you want for Christmas?”

You looked at the sky again too and tilted your head. Sure, you could’ve made a wish. You could have wished for a lot of things. Good grades, a better new year, a new car might be nice, but…

“Honestly? I don’t need to.” You shook your head and turned to face Charlie with a smile. “I already got what I really wanted for Christmas.”

“Really? You haven’t even opened any presents.” Charlie laughed a little, looking at you.

There were snowflakes adorning his hair and eyelashes, his cheeks slightly pink from the cold outside. Each breath he took let out a little puff that circled his head and made him glow under the moonlight.

“I couldn’t ask for anything better than you.”

His face changed, ever so slightly, but you kept talking.

“I mean, honestly, you were the best thing I think I ever could have asked for. You showed up right when I needed help and you didn’t turn me away or call me crazy when I asked you to do this with me. My parents love you, I’m sure my aunts and uncles are going to miss you from every other family gathering I attend, and you get along with my cousins like you’ve always been part of the family. You’re an amazing guy, Charlie. You’re funny and sweet and so, so genuine that I just… I don’t know how to thank you enough for this. You saved me from what would’ve been a week of the same question over and over again, having to tell everyone that my ex wasn’t what I thought he was. Embarrassing myself. Stuff like that doesn’t die in this family, y’know? I mean, Alice still gets it from people about this boy she dated in middle school who embarrassed her. I couldn’t handle that this Christmas.” As you finished your ramble, you looked him in the eyes and felt your heart tighten. He looked.. Upset. It wasn’t anger, probably, but he looked conflicted. Maybe hurt? “Charlie?-”

“I..” His hand twitched in his lap, starting to move before it fell limp against his lap again. He took a deep breath and avoided your gaze. “I think I should go.”

“What? Charlie, wait- Did I say something?-”

Shaking his head, Charlie stood up and brushed the snow off of him before quickly going back inside.

Your stomach writhed with even more guilt as the area around you was silent, save for the whistling of the wind that drove a chill down your back. Did you just ruin something? Did you say too much and let your feelings leak through? Maybe you had made him uncomfortable with such an emotional confession. Tears stung your eyes as a lump gathered in your throat. It was Christmas Eve and you had just fucked up.

Snow continued to fall around you, swirling in the wind as you put your head in your arms, trying not to cry. You weren't sure how long you spent out there, but when you couldn't feel your cheeks anymore, you had figured it was long enough that you should probably go inside and warm up before you got frostbite.

It seemed like all of your family had gone to sleep by now, and the lights were slowly being turned out one by one as your mother made her way around the house. She caught up with you in the den, watching you stare at the lights on the Christmas tree. New presents had appeared since the kids had gone to sleep, labeled that they were from Santa. A set of bikes, newly stuffed stockings, even the milk and cookies had been taken from to keep up the magic. The kids would love it.

“Merry Christmas, honey.” She came up beside you, her smile faltering when she saw your face. “What's wrong?”

“I think I messed up, mom.” You sniffled and the sting of tears made themselves known again. Turning to face her, the Christmas lights lit up the room with soft colour and reflected off her face that made the world seem just a bit less real. You figured it would be best to just admit it. “I.. Charlie isn't actually my boyfriend.”

Your mother raised her eyebrows and nodded, leading you to the dining room to sit at the table. The wood was cool against your skin as you tried your best not to choke up or spiral any further. You had already made a mess, you just had to figure out how to clean it up. When your mother sat down across from you and took your hands in hers, you continued.

“He isn't my boyfriend. My actual boyfriend dumped me a day before we drove out here over text because he.. Wanted to work on himself, I guess? I probably should have listened when my friends told me they thought they saw him with someone else at a party. I thought he was good, Mom. I really thought he was different, like everything I said he was. And then he suddenly ended things and- And I wasn't sure what to do, I couldn't come home without anybody. It would've been salt in the wound to be humiliated in front of everyone after letting myself get hurt like that.

And then I found Charlie, and I asked if he was willing to just.. Come and pretend to be my boyfriend and- Honestly I didn't expect him to agree at all. But he did. He did, and he's so..” You laughed tearfully and shook your head. “He's so perfect. He's everything I thought my actual boyfriend was. It's like it all comes naturally to him, like he doesn't even have to try to be funny and make people comfortable. You saw how well he got along with everyone this week, and you said yourself you love him! But I… It was supposed to be easy. A week of avoiding embarrassment with a guy I only sort of knew, and then we would go back to school and I’d tell everyone we broke up. Make it seem like this whole thing where I threw him out and I was in the right. Not dumped over text.

But I don't think I can do that, Mom. I.. I think I’m in love with him? How could I not? He's been nothing but kind and perfect to me and so sweet and I never want this week to end because I know that it means things will go back to normal and I don't know how to ask anything more of him after this- I don't even know why he agreed to this in the first place!! But I tried to tell him how much I appreciated him outside earlier and he looked so… Upset. Like I had done something wrong, and then he said he had to go and came inside. And-” The world blurred and smeared as tears filled your vision. “I think- I think I might've ruined what little I had with him-”

Your mother nodded, listening to you ramble on with an intent look on her face. She squeezed your hands and brought them to her mouth to kiss. Taking a deep breath, she nodded and looked at you until you silently took a couple of breaths yourself.

“Honey… I don’t think you ruined anything. Charlie seems like a wonderful man, he would tell you if you had truly ruined anything. He didn't seem angry when he came in, I saw your uncle ask if he was heading upstairs and he just seemed a little.. lost with himself.” She shook her head and smiled. “I knew from the stars you two weren't dating.”

“What??” Your eyebrows furrowed. Were you really that obvious?

“You had said things about your boyfriend that didn't quite line up with Charlie. Things you wouldn't have said about him, that I'm sure you had just forgotten you said.”

“Mom I’m sorry-” She cut you off by squeezing your hands again.

“Don't be sorry, dear. I knew you had feelings for him anyways.” You gave her a quizzical look, going to speak before she answered your question. “Mothers always know these kinds of things. I know how you act, and I love you, but honey you're not the best actor in the family… I've been watching you two all week, and I’m surprised you haven't said something sooner. I would've kept it to myself, though, because I think you need to see how this plays out.”

“I don't know how I can fix this though, Mom. I- I don't even know what I did wrong!”

She smiled knowingly.

“I don't think you did anything wrong, dear. But if you keep these feelings to yourself I think you'll find yourself worse off than if you didn't.” Your mother squeezed your hands again before letting go and standing up. “I've seen the way he looks at you, too. When he thinks nobody is looking, or when you aren't paying attention. When he thinks nobody but you and him are there.” Patting your shoulder as she walked towards the stairs, she gave you one last smile. “It’s Christmas after all. Maybe you got another gift you didn't know you asked for.”

With that, she bid you goodnight and made her way upstairs to her bedroom, leaving you alone in the dining room under the light. The house was near silent aside from the whistling outside of the wind.

You shut the light off and swallowed as you tried to reason through your mothers words. She was a bit of an optimist, so maybe she was just being hopeful, or maybe she was right. Maybe she had seen something you hadn't yet noticed.

The door to your room was left slightly open when you walked up, giving a soft knock as you pushed the door open. Charlie was under the blankets on his far side of the bed. There was no movement other than the steady breathing of his chest. You changed quickly and walked up to the bed, hesitating.

“Charlie..? Are you awake?” Your voice was quiet and dry. There was no answer from Charlie, and he hardly even shifted. Assuming he was asleep, you sighed and resigned yourself to sleeping on your far side of the bed, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest. Tomorrow would be the busiest day of all and if you had done something to upset him, you really weren't sure how well this would go. Maybe it would have been all for naught if you went and messed things up on Christmas Eve. Drifting to sleep as you tried to ignore the way the soft sound of his breathing made you feel, one final sigh made your exit from the waking world known.

You were woken in darkness, blinking your eyes open to barely see Charlie in the very same knitted sweater he had shown you at the start of the week.

“Good morning sleepyhead.”

You groaned and rubbed your eyes, yawning.

“It's still dark..?”

“Merry Christmas.” Charlie's voice was little more than a whisper, and you felt yourself smile at the pure warmth of the tone.

“Oh… Merry Christmas..”

“Your little cousins are running from room to room, I figured I would wake you up a little nicer than that.”

“You're too sweet, Charlie..” You hummed and looked up at him. Even in the darkness he looked beautiful, and you blearily wondered if you were still dreaming. Having such a wonderful man wake you in your bed to go downstairs for Christmas morning with your family, not a care in the world, seemed like a dream come true.

“I'll go stand in the hall and let you change, I think if someone doesn't stop Elliot he's gonna tear open every package and parcel he can get his hands on.” Charlie quietly slipped out of the room and you immediately heard him make his presence known to the distant chaos you slowly became aware of as you woke up.

… Okay, there were a few cares in your world. The strangeness of last night came back to you slowly. You had expected him to be cold, maybe. Or mad. At least a little upset! But he spoke to you like you were a literal angel, like waking you any faster than your body wanted to would have broken you. It was attractive, to say the least.

A scream from downstairs broke you of your thoughts and you remembered there were gifts with children's names on them, and they wouldn't wait around for you.

Stepping up to your closet, you fished out the sweater you had told Charlie about, smiling down at it. It was a bit old and a gift from your Grandmother, but it still fit nicely and had softened over the years to be a little less itchy. You wore a shirt underneath just to be safe.

With each step down the stairs you had to take a breath and remind yourself that you had an act to put on with Charlie. If you had messed up, you at least owed it to him to keep your attitude nice for the day. You were both adults, you knew any issues you had could be resolved in due time. Charlie wouldn't just let it fester if you had hurt his feelings or said something wrong, right? You had to hope that was the case, at least.

Right as you step off the last step, your younger cousins come running up to you with excitement, shouting about Santa Claus, the half eaten cookies, and the new gifts. You do your best to wave off the lingering sleep in your mind to match their enthusiasm. When that's enough to satisfy them before they can actually open their gifts, they loudly run off to their next victims – You catch Charlie's eye from across the den.

His eyes crinkle at the sight of you, then flick down to your sweater and he sits up, pointing at his own for a moment with his mouth slightly agape, before patting the seat beside him enthusiastically. It takes you a moment to mentally unstick your feet from the floor and walk over to him. It was Christmas morning in front of your family - if anything was wrong, this was probably your last reprieve before things fully went wrong and you could see the damages. As selfish as it sounded, you felt as though you should take advantage of that.

“So you really do have a matching sweater?” Charlie giggled and pulled you down to sit next to him, wrapping an arm around you. “I'm glad you decided to match with me.”

“And leave you hanging? Just wait until you see whatever Mom has got on this year. It's gonna put both of us to shame.” You leaned in to whisper as early morning chaos still reigned.

“Hey lovebirds, say cheese!” Your aunt had her phone out already, and you perked up just in time to smile as the flash dazzled you and Charlie.

“You ready for a whole day of.. That?” You glanced to Charlie, who chuckled.

“Bring it on.”

Rolling your eyes, you waited for everyone to wake up and join the family in the den. The younger kids instantly started opening gifts and throwing wrapping paper everywhere when they were given the go ahead. Eventually your dad started a garbage bag of scraps and tried his best to rally the kids into one area with their new toys as the adults started opening their much smaller gifts.

It was always amusing watching people open gifts, seeing the way even grown adults would get excited over certain things they wanted, or how they tried to hide their dislike or disappointment over certain other gifts. One of your aunts was given an ornate music box that seemed to be hand-crafted, and it seemed like she was ready to cry as she hugged your uncle, thanking him. Meanwhile one of your uncles got a pair of socks with little reindeer printed on them, and you swore you could see him try to set them on fire with his eyes.

Charlie would lift his arm whenever it was your turn to open something, watching you make a neat little pile at your feet of opened gifts. He seemed content to just sit and watch, making little jokes about certain gifts until your father walked over with a small box. He lifted his arm again, but your dad held the box to him a little more insistently.

“Wh.. For me-?” Charlie pointed at himself and sat up, taking it hesitantly.

“Well… We didn't want you to feel left out, but the stores were a bit scarce so close to the holiday when I went to get you something. So we hope it's okay.” Your dad smiled and nodded, stepping back to his place by the tree.

Charlie looked at you a bit bewildered, and carefully tore open the wrapping paper. It was a couple of Pokémon card packs from the store, and a set of six-sided dice. You almost went to say something about how they just did their best to understand, but Charlie's eyes lit up as he pulled them out of the box, carefully holding the dice as he inspected them. It was a set of black dice with white dots, subtly reflecting the lights on the tree.

“You didn't..” He looked up at your parents and shook his head slowly. “You didn't have to get me anything.” His hand slipped into yours, squeezing so tight it shook a little. Glancing at Charlie, you could tell he was trying so hard to play it cool, but the way his lips twitched and fought off a grin was undermining all of his attempts.

Your mother shook her head.

“What kind of parents in law would we be if we left you out?? We’ll get you something better next year, we promise.” She sent a wink your way, and you knew it was more for you than it was Charlie. You tried to ignore the warmth that crawled up your neck at the implication there. Next year. Did she really have that much faith in you to fix things? Did she have so much confidence in her ability to see what you can't that she believed Charlie would come home with you next year?

The next gift was picked, and Charlie turned to you with wide, excited eyes as he held up the card packs. It snapped you out of your thoughts and you smiled at him. You hadn't expected it would make him so happy, but the way he glowed was so much better than you could've imagined.

“I take it you're happy then?” You whispered, and he nodded, flipping through the handful of packs.

“I didn't- They didn't need to get me anything! I didn't expect to get anything..”

“Well,” You shrugged and leaned against him, sighing. “If you're part of the family, they're gonna get you something. I'm just glad I didn't tell them what he would've wanted, in case they got something you would've hated.”

Charlie shook his head as he chose one of the packs, setting the others down in his lap gently.

“I wasn't expecting anything, though. I would've enjoyed just watching you open things.” He fiddled with the wrapping of the pack and you looked down at it, then up at him.

“Well.. Go on.”

“What?”

“Open the pack. I wanna see what you got.”

He smiles and you set your head on his shoulder, watching as he opens the pack and flicks through the cards. He explains each card to you, explaining the differences on each of them, and you were more than happy to let him quietly ramble on as he grabbed the next pack.

“Do you wanna open this one?”

“Nah. All yours.”

Charlie nods, peeling open the next pack. It was impressive how quickly he put you at ease, and you couldn't find it in yourself to worry about what may come later, so long as you could stay in the moment of him explaining the rarity of certain cards. It was cute.

The rest of the day went by in a blur as people showed up and left, some family friends popping in for the day just to visit, a few neighbours showing up to gift some treats that you watched your younger cousins sneak into just a little too early. Your mother walked around at one point with her phone facetiming your grandmother, who insisted on having an entire conversation about you wearing the sweater, to which you just had to drag Charlie into frame to show that you were matching. This started a whole new slough of questions about your relationship, and the two of you had to explain repeatedly that you weren't ready for marriage, let alone kids.

Christmas music played loudly and the sound of far too many conversations loudly filled the air during the afternoon, and after being pulled between so many, you found your head was spinning too fast to keep up with, so you snuck out to the front foyer for a bit of space. Charlie seemed to have the same idea as he stumbled out of the kitchen, followed by the sound of your uncles laughing.

“They aren't getting to you in there, are they? Do I need to go tell them to lay off?” You teased lightly, leaning against the doorway as you took a deep breath.

“Pshh, No..” Charlie shook his head and walked up to you with a warm smile, though you noticed his cheeks were slightly pink. “Just got a little warm in there. Your family is really, uh..”

“Nosy?”

“Thorough.”

You laughed loudly and shook your head as you straightened up. Your gaze drifts up and your face falls slightly.

Mistletoe.

Charlie's gaze follows yours and he freezes. The buzz of the house seems to fade away as you focus on it, as if you found yourself locked in this little bubble with Charlie, and suddenly every guilty feeling writhed under your skin all at once.

“Oh.”

“I'm- I’m sorry,” You start, shaking your head as you turn to step to the side. You had been doing so well acting normal, of course you'd find yourself under the very same mistletoe he helped you hang. “We can move-”

“Wait.”

Charlie's arm stops you, and you look at his face to see him flushed, with the same expression from when you started talking last night.

“I..” He shifts, and you move back to standing under the mistletoe with him, looking at him intently. “I know that when you asked me to help you with this, you were a bit desperate and just looking for somebody to help you, and I’m sure I wasn't your first choice considering how little time we had spent together, but… This week has been the best week of my life I think, and I don't ever want it to end if it means we have to go back to the way things were. I don't want to go another day without hearing your voice, or watching you try not to laugh at my jokes - which I know you think are funny. I know this was mostly to save face in front of your family and that we haven't gotten much of a chance to genuinely get to know each other, but I would love to get to know you better, if I can.” His eyes soften and the confliction on his face fades into something much more vulnerable. Charlie's hands move up to your shoulders, and that feeling of freezer burn starts radiating under his touch again. “I want more of this, if you're okay with that. More of you.”

Charlie's eyes flicker between your own, carefully watching as you stand there, stunned.

“And.. Stop me, if I’ve taken this wrong. If my attempts to get your attention this week have been unwarranted. Stop me if this isn't what you want.” His hand moves to your cheek. “Please.”

You don't stop him, shaking your head and leaning into his hand.

“I won't.”

Charlie smiles as he pulls your face to his, gently kissing you for just a moment. He pulls away, just enough to breathe. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and quickly pull him into a deeper kiss.

The sound of cheers and whoops fill the hall and you pull away to see a handful of family members standing in the hallway, watching you two. Your mom gives you a knowing smile before you stare and silently wave them all off. Isabella is the last one to leave, holding her phone up with a mischievous grin and a thumbs up.

Charlie chuckled lowly and kissed your cheek, and when you were sure your little audience had dispersed, you two smiled at each other and kissed again.

“I told you I’d surprise you.”

“You didn't let me down.”

The rest of the night was full of playful gazes and quick kisses when nobody's looking. Quiet whispers of private conversation passed back and forth with no room for anyone to eavesdrop. Gentle touches and subtle movements, with something a little more genuine behind them – you find that not much changes in these little acts from the rest of the week, as if they've always had the same intent behind them just with more hesitation.

Dinner goes about as well as you'd expect, with one of your uncles trying to stir up some trouble and having to be talked down as a big scene was made. Usually you'd be much more upset about this sort of thing, but whenever you sighed or tensed up, Charlie's hand squeezed yours from under the table, and everything was okay again. You stayed up and drank a little after with the rest of the adults in the family, the conversations around the house a little more soft spoken, albeit a little more loose lipped as well. Those who were either already planning on staying, or had drank more than they meant to, trickled off one by one to their rooms, and slowly the unused lights were turned off until it was you and Charlie alone in the den with the glittering lights of the tree.

Sure, you were a few drinks in, but so was he as the two of you hummed and danced along to the Christmas music emanating from the radio. His arms wrapped around you and it was like there was nothing else in the world you could possibly bring yourself to think about other than the smell of Charlie and the sound of his low hums as he swayed you two back and forth.

You knew there would have to be a proper conversation about what you two were going to do now, about what this meant for your relationship and how it would affect the people around you, but for now, you were content with what you had, which was Charlie in your arms, smiling warmly at you.

The song changed to something more upbeat, and he grinned, laughing a little as he pulled away and spun you to the tune. The two of you kept up with singing along, even if you wavered a little as Charlie pulled you along. It was fun and it was carefree and you were very dizzy by the end, where Charlie leaned you into a dip and smiled down at you.

“Merry Christmas, Charlie.”

“Merry Christmas, Angel.”

He leans down and presses a kiss to your lips, and you chase him as he leans up to press another kiss to his lips. After a couple more chaste kisses, he pulls away and glances towards the stairs then back at you with an unspoken question, and you find yourself quickly pulled up the stairs, giggling and shushing each other all the way to your room.

#⁉️ ; bang !#🐾 ; checkmate !#slimecicle x reader #charlie slimecicle x reader #if you see any mistakes no you don't

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beartitled · 2 months ago

Note

Did you play the pristine cut of STP? What do you think of Dragon, Cage and HappilyEverAfter if so?

Spoilers for STP pristine cut under read more (+ a lot of text warning)

Hehe I see STP ppl are excited and want more silly comics

Well there’s a lot of things to say tbh 👀

Overall really enjoyed new content so far

It kinda feels like a fanservice for the people who already played the game

Which is not a bad thing, don’t get me wrong ☝️

I just view the original game as a perfect instalment, which doesn’t really need a continuation

New scenarios is just a pleasant bonus

(I’m one shot/short story fan okay 👉👈)

I already saw Dragon and Happily After routes

Yet to see all the variations the Cage route has to offer (heard ppl said it’s the most diverse one)

The Princess and The Dragon

HEY REMEMBER HOW I SAID I DON’T LIKE THE IDEA OF CHANGING THE GENDERS OF THE CHARACTERS BC THAT WAY THE DYNAMIC WOULD BE UNSETTLING?

YEA SO THIS ROUTE EXPLORED THAT DYNAMIC GUYS

I enjoyed this route, bc again

It’s scary, uncomfortable, makes you feel unsafe and uneasy 👁️👁️

Awesome depiction of how scary this type of situation would be

And of course bonus points, we got to see the bird bois 🎉

(Opportunist go brush yo teeth, u spooky lookin ass)

Happily ever after

Noooow we’re talking

I love that route, it’s my favourite so far

The pain, the suffering, the absolutely devastated British crowman

Brilliant, chills

This one actually feels like a missing part of the og game to me

I wanted to go into details about my opinions on that route in the future post

But now I want to talk 😈

👏Smitten👏my boy👏how are you in your edgy villain era already omg

Can we just admit for a second how badass Smitten is for escaping protagonist’s body?

Like-💥

This was the first route I saw and was like “Ooooh that’s probably the new gimmick, every voice is doing to escape and shenanigans happen” AND NO Smitten is just that guy™️ absolute chad

Minus points for “we will give her something she doesn’t know she wants yet”

*hits Smitten with newspaper*

Bad voice 💥🗞️bad 💥🗞️ we listen to what 💥🗞️our queen 💥🗞️wants 🗞️💥🗞️💥💥

But it works okay

The atmosphere is immaculate, I was legit concerned for a moment

Ok now give me a moment to be a nerd ☝️🤓

I love how this route gives Smitten flaws

I think finally we saw that every voice has them, because voices are an isolated part of a person, a pure feeling if you will

And Smitten represents that naïve love idealisation/love obsession

The guy loves the princess, she is pure perfection to him

This feeling is blinding and honestly pretty toxic irl

During the whole og game Smitten was never conflicting?

He pretty much the comedic relief of the whole game (and least it felt like that to me)

I think he was kinda a missed potential

Yes, love is sweet

Crushes are can be funny, silly and overall just positive

But it can be so destructive, so painful and so so exhausting when it gets to the point of obsession

And that route gives you a direct illustration of it

Which is amazing

I honestly think we don’t have enough media just showcasing this feeling of obsessive love and how dangerous it is

(yandere trope doesn’t count 👿 this trope just kinda glorified the issue)

And the tragedy is SMITTEN IS TOO DELUSIONAL TO EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT HE’S DOING WRONG

My poor poor birb boy

He’s too focused on doing everything perfectly, to make princess satisfied, to make us satisfied, why isn’t it working? He does everything he can, why doesn’t it work? How doesn’t it work?

HE’S TOO LOVESTRUCK TO TAKE A STEP BACK AND REFLECT

AAAAAAAAA

God I’m insane about Happily ever after

As a person who struggles with this exact feeling of idolising and obsessing over ppl, I just really feel that route

Goth Smitten incoming *coughs*

Thanks for your question ❤️ hope you enjoyed reading my mess of thoughts💥

Share your thoughts in comments/reblogs if you want ppl

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mins-fins · 7 months ago

Text

AUDERE EST FACERE. — [Z.CL]

❝to dare is to do..❞

SYNOPSIS: where crown prince zhong chenle, forced into a marriage with a woman he doesn't like and riddled with complicated feelings, finds solace in the palace's very own medic, you.

PAIRING: zhong chenle x male!reader

GENRE: royalty au, not really modern but not really medieval time period either, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst, kinda humorous, prince!chenle x medic!reader, kinda forbidden relationship, ambiguous/open ending

WARNINGS: might not be accurate to medieval times, death, blood & gore, forced marriage, mentions of disease, unhealthy ways of grieving, a lot of mentions of violence

WORD COUNT: 22.7k

NOTES: woah woah woah!!! this whole fic broke a whole bunch of isa records…….. hiiii jj 😊 hi chenle stans 😊 hello nct male reader community 😊😊😊 i hope im serving the isanator nation well (consists of 2 ppl) ANYWAY this is one of the works i am genuinely most proud of because for one, it's my longest ever work, and for two, i'm just so happy with how it turned out!! this was originally meant to be like 16k words but then i got carried away and now this is here 🙁 i truly apologize for how long this is but PLEASEEE dont get bored i swear it gets good 😞😞 and i did write ambiguous ending but it does seem pretty straightforward so um… im sorry for that, this fic would've been MUCH MUCH LONGER than 22k words but i already beat my former wc record so i just cut a bunch of other unnecessary scenes 😶 alright thats enough of my yapping!! ily jj my bsf ever ty for listening to me ramble abt this endlessly in ur inbox 😊😊💗

CHENLE REMEMBERS IT LIKE IT WAS YESTERDAY. his little feet sneakily took him away from the huge meeting room full of intimidating adults talking about gibberish, and slowly, they lead him to a much more enjoyable place. at the time, seven year old chenle couldn't figure out why his parents needed such a big meeting room, or why all of these important people came to the castle every few months, to him, those strangers were nothing but tryhards, greedy men and women who were never pleased no matter how much they were offered.

seven year old chenle could never truly figure out why his parents insisted on having him sit around with these other important adults, listening to them talk about the economy, kingdom relations, marriage, all this stuff that isn't interesting to seven year old boys.

the young prince found his feet leading him to a place of familiar comfort, the palace's own rose garden. he could never truly explain why the air surrounding the abundance of roses ever became of comfort to him, because roses are anything but comfortable to hold, but whenever he felt like father and mothers fights were getting too aggressive, he could just come here and everything would be okay.

the gardener, a woman by the name of mrs. qian, was always sweet to chenle, much sweeter than his father usually was. her son, qian kun, is basically chenle's older brother, the older boy often comes around whenever his mothers in work, and he tells chenle stories of what goes on at the village schools, the newest gossip and adventures he's gone on with his friends.

chenle often finds himself interested in the life of a commoner, they're all just so intriguing.. he can't believe the stories most of the time, but he is homeschooled, and has been holed up in this castle for as long as he can remember, so how he can prove or debunk any of these things? he just thinks that non-royals are some of the most entertaining people he knows, they're all so hilarious.

as soon as the seven year old chenle stepped into the rose garden, a feeling of relief seeps into his body. he takes in a deep breath, and finally allowed for his shoulders to slump, much too tired of having to keep his back straight all this time.

he lets himself relax into the atmosphere, finally away from the suffocated room full of adults seemingly speaking a language he could not understand. if that's what kings and queens have to do, chenle thinks he'd rather not take the throne.

the seven year old prince allowed for his eyes to scan the garden, it's empty. well that makes sense, mrs. qian isn't in today and neither is her son, they went on a holiday. he sighs to himself, he misses kun's company, but alas, no one is around.

chenle makes his way around to a specific rose bush, it has the most roses out of the bunch. seven year old chenle used to think the rose bushes were magic, the roses always grew so quickly, one day there'd be none and the next there'd be hundreds, it was purely shocking to the young prince.

chenle, as always, began tracing the shape of the roses with his finger. he finds them pretty, as he does all flowers. it might sound like he's being basic, but roses are probably his favorite of the bunch. they're just so beautiful, and most importantly— they're sharp.

but the seven year old chenle is startled out of his rose admiring due to a shout.

"hey! don't touch those!"

the young prince furrowed his eyebrows at the words, what's wrong with touching the roses? it's not like there are garden rules or anything. when chenle turned to the source of the shout, that's when he sees the person.

you, it was you. adorable seven year old you who ran up to him as quickly as you could, you stopped as soon as you made it his way, panting like you had just run a marathon. "don't touch the roses".

the young chenle blinked, puzzled. "why can't i touch them? i'm the prince you can't tell me what to do—"

"they're sharp! you're gonna hurt yourself see?" you pointed at chenle's hand, and he looked down, eyes widening as he came across the sight. his finger was bleeding, oh that's bad. "roses have thorns, you have to be careful".

chenle had no idea who you were then, but all he knew was that you were worried. your eyes were watering, as if you were going to burst into tears at any moment, and you took a deep breath as you slowly began freaking out over the small cut on the prince's index finger. "oh uh— i didn't even notice".

"it's okay really, god i have a bandaid don't i? hold on.." you mumbled, worried as ever as you began rummaging through your pockets, trying to find a bandaid to patch up the prince with.

"it's fine it's just a small cut i.." chenle paused in between his words, clearing his throat. "who are you?"

right, you were still a stranger, chenle had no idea who you were then, for all he could know, you had broken into the palace or something. you finally stopped looking through your pocket, your face went a bright red as you faced the prince again. "um my name is y/n, i'm the—"

"y/n honey? where did you run off to?"

now chenle recognized that voice, that was the voice of the palace's sweet medic. mrs. l/n had a voice that was like honey, she was easily one of chenle's favorite staff members, not only because she would always be there to wipe his tears when he scraped his knee, but she always offered him delicious candy. "oh! there you are!"

"good afternoon mrs. l/n" chenle politely greeted, and you let out a small sigh of relief at the sight of your mother, though that look of worry was still prominent in your eyes.

"chenle, how are you doing?" she reached over to ruffle the young prince's hair, which he accepted happily, giggling at the gesture. "i'm doing good, ma'am".

"he has a cut on his finger" you muttered to her, and a small 'ah' leaves her lips as she finally realized what was going on. "i wanted to help him but i didn't have any bandaids" you seemed disappointed in yourself, as your gaze immediately lowered to the floor.

"oh sweetie, it's okay" your mother shook your shoulder, reassuring you. "just remember to call me before running off".

"i'll remember, sorry".

the young prince blinked at the sight before him, though he continued to smile at the sight of your mother. "sorry for yelling at you, your highness" you muttered in your low voice, and all chenle did was shake his head, waving you off.

"it's alright you were just trying to help" chenle replied, he finds seven year old you to be the epitome of adorable, just the cutest person in the world.

"let's get you that bandaid yeah?"

chenle nodded, you nodded, and the two of you proceeded to follow your mother out of the garden and to her office.

when chenle thinks back to this moment, the moment he first met you, he likes to compare it to an explosive, just waiting to be lit, just waiting to be set off and destroy everything. when he thinks back to the first moment he met you, chenle can't help but reminisce about it.

after your mother helped him with his cut, the two of you.. talked. you talked about things all seven year old boys talk about, and it was one of the highlights of chenle's day, though he kept trying to make you drop the formalities and call him by his first name, you vehemently disagreed.

the two of you became friends (and just chenle calling the two of you "friends" was enough to almost send seven year old you into cardiac arrest), a royal and a commoner, but chenle never saw it that way, chenle has never seen it that way. a friend is a friend, regardless of status or their economic situation. yes chenle is at a great advantage, being the prince of the kingdom you lived in, but he never held it over you, he isn't like that.

you were— are a special friend to chenle. sometimes, it feels like the two of you have known each other your whole lives. you mean much more to him than he actually lets slip, but he'll never let that be known, even under kun's watchful eye and jisung's insistence on knowing if you two really are just "friends".

chenle spends a lot of time thinking about the day you two first met, it's like a looping episode of a show in his head.

"chenle? did you even hear me?"

no response.

a grunt of frustration is sounded in the room, but the prince doesn't react, much too busy zoned out as a specific memory replays in his head for the seventh time that hour.

"chenle! pay attention!"

the slam of a hand against the table, paired with the loud shout is enough to snap the now twenty one year old crown prince out of his little dazed memory recalling session. chenle startles, but he quickly lets his face relax, sighing as he rejoins the conversation he'd previously zoned out on. "what?"

chenle's mother pinches the bridge of her nose, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. "marriage, chenle, that's what were talking about".

oh god, chenle resists the urge to groan. he isn't exactly on board with this whole marriage thing, but then again, he has no other choice, his father is gone and he's next in line for the throne, this is how it goes for each royal family, he should just suck it up and deal with it head on. "yeah yeah, sorry, i didn't sleep much last night".

it's not exactly a lie, these days usually have chenle plagued with some sort of sleeplessness, but that isn't the main reason he was zoned out, obviously. "alright.. anyway, i talked with the zhu's, we agreed that you and their daughter, yinuo, are to marry".

chenle recognizes the family name, unfortunately, he doesn't exactly recognize their daughter. "you're marrying me off to a stranger? what about the girls i actually know, suyin? jia? mingxia? they're actually my friends, i'd be much more comfortable with them than a princess i've never met".

"marriage doesn't work like that, chenle" the words are enough to make chenle grit his teeth, he bites his tongue, though. "all you have to do is merely get along with her enough that it looks like you're in love at the wedding, rule the kingdom, and have children".

chenle raises an eyebrow, rocking back and forth in his chair. "that sounds a tad bit dystopian, mother".

the older woman does nothing but narrow her eyes at chenle, a look he's become used to receiving from her at this point. "it's just how everything goes, le, i don't know what to tell you".

chenle bites his inner cheek, looking everywhere else in the room. he always knew marriage was a custom, if not out of true love, it would be out of convenience. chenle had been given so much time to go find a woman to fall in love with, but he didn't find it that easy, maybe he just has too many requirements when it comes to love. he doesn't exactly support the whole thing about creating new heirs, but he was born into this family for this reason, what is the point of being a king if not sacrificing his freedom for the happiness of others?

chenle has always known that he wouldn't exactly enjoy this part of his life, and his father just had to go early, he is very much upset, but he doesn't disclose those feelings to anyone. after his long minutes of silence, chenle stands up from the table, again facing his mother. "yes yes i get it, mother" he mutters, making his way over to his mother and pressing a kiss to her cheek, realizing that she was trembling in anxiousness. "don't worry about me, i'll be fine".

but would he really? chenle can't exactly determine that.

"HOW DID YOUR LITTLE MARRIAGE CONVERSATION GO?" QIAN KUN cannot contain his interest, immediately finding chenle and inquiring about his upcoming marriage. chenle can always go to kun to talk about things troubling his mind, the older is a person of solace for him, a comfort in this big castle that seems to be swallowing him whole. chenle is glad he has kun, even with how much he does tease him, he's truly grateful for the older. "whose the lucky lady?" the words are enough to get a groan out of chenle, who shoved his nose into his book.

"zhu yinuo".

kun's eyes widen, clearly he recognizes that name. "of azerene?"

chenle clicks his tongue, not sparing the older a glance. "yes, that one".

the older male hums, merely glancing at the crown prince. "why do you sound so uninterested? marriage should be a fun topic for you".

his teasing tone doesn't breeze past chenle, but the younger doesn't comment on it, focusing on the topic of the novel in his hands. "not when it's with a women i don't know, i'm just being placed into a union with a stranger, a stranger who i'm then going to have make babies with so that the treasurable zhong family lives on for generations and generations".

"well isn't that the whole point of royal families, though?" kun asks absentmindedly, it seems he meant to say that in his head, seeing as how he slaps a hand over his mouth immediately after the question escapes his lips, but chenle doesn't mind, getting offended over such a question is the last of his worries. "..sorry".

"it's alright" chenle responds, his voice a low echo in the expanse of a room. "it's how most things go anyway, i should know better than to question it".

"i just don't think it's fair" chenle only gives a mere hum, though he notices kun's tone of concern. "yeah you're supposed to create heirs at the end of the day, but not even with someone you love?"

"you ask too many questions".

kun scoffs, turning to chenle with a look of betrayal in his eyes. "i'm just saying what your thinking, chenle, i worry about you".

chenle, who sighs silently, finally closes his book and gives the older an indistinguishable look. "you don't have to worry about me, i'll be fine, i always am".

a lie, one as clear as day too. chenle doesn't exactly know how to explain what he feels, sometimes it feels like everything is bubbling up slowly, closing in on him and suffocating him to death. he assumes it's normal to feel like this, especially with people who don't talk about how they feel, but chenle doesn't know how to bring it up to people without making everything weird.

it's all just complicated.

chenle finally stands up, running a hand through his hair and folding the page of his book as to not lose his page. he makes his way over to kun, whose mindlessly folding his own clothes as he admires the butterfly tank before him.

the butterflies were an installment chenle begged for his father to get for him after he read a book on metamorphosis once, it was a gift for his twelfth birthday, though he wanted a room to be a whole conservatory for him, his father said that would be "unnecessary" (and as an adult, chenle is inclined to agree with that statement). he finds the winged beings to be beautiful, a kind of striking that only specific animals can replicate.

yes, chenle is a huge fan of butterflies, his love for them runs deep. he lightly taps the glass encasing the creatures with his nail, gaze laser focused on the flying insects and their bright colored wings.

"you say that all the time, but i can never truly tell if you are" kun finally responds after letting his answer wither in the silence of the room, his eyes wander over to chenle, who does nothing but admire the trapped butterflies before him.

the words get a small smile out of chenle, but he's not sure why, though they do make him smile. "i am fine, there's no need to look in further".

"you know me, i'm always going to look further".

chenle allows for himself to chuckle at the response. he's right about that.

he stares at the butterflies encased in the glass box, practically trapped against their own will. his mind wanders, the butterflies remind him of something very familiar.

but he pretends to have no idea what it is.

CHENLE OFTEN FINDS HIMSELF SLEEPLESS THESE DAYS. after the first two hours of insomnia took over, the crown prince decided to entertain himself by reading that book he's left off at earlier that day, but by the time he looked at the clock again, two more hours had passed, and he had finished the book which he once thought would enthrall him until his body gave into it's exhaustion. he lets his arm fall, placing the copy of strange case of dr. jekyll and mr. hyde onto his desk. he's still not tired, for some unknown reason.

maybe another book will do the trick, chenle's mind tells him, and he agrees with that statement enough that he swings out of his bed and his feet grace the cold floor. it's cold, it's always cold at night, but chenle thinks it's always extra cold at night on purpose.

the crown prince tries his best to shake off the freezing temperature of the room, slipping on a fuzzy sweater and grabbing the lamp from his desk. if sleep isn't going to come him, he could at least spend some of the night in the library, it'll be a good way to pass time.

the library is a nice place of comfort, chenle has always been able to relax his mind the most when he's reading. reading is one of the easiest hobbies to have, because you're not tiring yourself out, but your also doing something fun (but chenle has learned that some people don't really describe reading as their idea of 'fun').

when chenle was younger, reading was really all he did. he was homeschooled, so the most lessons he got were three a day, mother and father never cared about what he had to tell them, dismissing his words as just idiotic child talk. no one ever gave him the time of day if they weren't forced to, so chenle quickly found comfort in the many books which littered the library.

by the time chenle was fourteen, he had already read most of the books in the library, and that includes the unnecessarily huge dictionary. he could almost always be found in the library if not in his room or the rose garden, immersing himself in another world of fiction or nonfiction.

the library is basically his second home, he's there all the time, engrossed in the literature which is all he can see.

the constant creaking of the old structure is all chenle can hear as he makes his way over to the library. at one in the morning, the palace is truly creepy, like one of those haunted buildings full of spirits that suddenly scare you in the night.

now, chenle isn't one to believe in the supernatural, but some of these nightly events in the castle truly can't be explained away. sometimes, he almost gives in to believing all of stories about paranormal activity happening in the castle, something about an old king going haywire and murdering his whole entire family.

father and mother would tell him the stories to scare him out of staying up late, saying that old king chen was gonna come out of the walls late at night and scare him if he ever tried to roam the palace halls past his bedtimes.

but chenle's an adult now, much too grown to be believing in some make believe ghost stories.

back to his mission of getting to the library with nothing but his tiny lamp, chenle sighs in the darkness of the empty halls, his sigh seemingly echoing in the silence and bouncing off the walls. he pauses to observe his barely lit surroundings, and he feels his stomach drop when he hears the sound of faint footsteps across the hall.

who else could be awake at this time?

"hello?"

chenle pauses again as he listens to the greeting. he recognizes that voice, it's you, chenle thinks he could recognize your voice from miles away. "y/n?" he calls out, he doesn't mean to do that, he just really wanted to say your name, is that such a crime? he doesn't think it is.

when you finally come into his like of vision, chenle lets out a sigh of relief, the pit in his stomach will hopefully go away now. for some reason, he feels much more safe with you here. "oh god you scared me ch— your highness".

ah, it's still the same, despite your long friendship, you still don't usually address chenle by his name. you always say it's because you have to "respect his title", but chenle doesn't really like it. he likes it more when you call him by his first name, even if it is disrespectful for a commoner to do such a thing.

chenle never cares when it's with you.

"you scared me" chenle emphasizes, taking in a deep breath. "my apologies".

"it's fine, uh.. why are you awake exactly?" you ask, though chenle wanted to ask you that, it seems you beat him to it. how funny. "if you don't mind me asking of course".

of course, all you ever really do is look after people, you take after your mother, it's evident to chenle that being a medic was your calling. "oh i can't sleep, i'm heading to the library to get a book that'll hopefully tire me".

you chuckle at the words, your laughter is pretty, chenle notes. "of course, you're always in that library, seems you spend most of your time reading" chenle laughs at your tone of voice, your teasing him, you talk like how your mother used to talk about him when you were children.

"reading is..fun".

those words seem to confuse you, and you blink, lightly tilting your head to the side. "i have never heard someone describe reading as fun, but i guess it makes sense for you".

chenle wants to ask about the meaning of those words, because they seem to have so many layers, but you begin again before he can even try to ask. "i heard about your new marriage" there's a certain distaste in your voice chenle can't exactly pinpoint. "congratulations".

chenle allows for himself to frown, his stomach curling in an uncomfortable way at just the thought of his new marriage. he doesn't want to talk about it, because it's just going to make him upset. "oh yeah it's quiet.. exciting news".

you pick up on his tone of disgust, his gritted teeth, and the way his eyes quickly cast around the room, but you stay silent. "anyway, i should be heading to the library, find a nice book, have any recommendations?"

you blink at the sudden question, scouring your mind for books you think the crown prince might be charmed by. "frenchman's creek by daphne du maurier".

chenle raises an eyebrow. "that's in the library?"

"yeah i uh— i read it a couple weeks ago, it was amazing" you mutter, trying to keep eye contact with the prince who was clearly trying to not look you in the eye. "i think you'll like it, i mean— i hope you do".

chenle hums, noting down your recommendation in his mind. "i'll make sure to read it then, thank you y/n, good night".

your eyes widen as you realize that it is indeed the middle of the night, and your conversation has to end eventually. "right right, it's no problem, good night your highness".

chenle frowns again at the sound of his title escaping your lips, but he doesn't say anything, just gives you a small smile and walks past you and towards the library.

he doesn't see you watch him walk away, he's much too busy thinking about how much he wants you to say his name.

"ARE YOU ALRIGHT? YOU LOOK TIRED" THE WORRYING tone in his fiancée's voice doesn't breeze past chenle, but he pays it no mind, ignoring the question. yinuo blinks, clearly expecting the silence, chenle's mother did say he's prone to giving people the "cold shoulder". she sighs, reaching out to touch his shoulder but immediately pulling back, he probably wouldn't like that. "chenle.."

"i'm fine" chenle replies faster than he intends, he brushes off any dust that might be on his shoulder and rubs his right eye. "i just lost a few hours of sleep that's all" he states rather unconvincingly, but yinuo doesn't comment more, just sighs again.

chenle holds out his arm, which the princess quickly links with hers, an indescribable emotion in his eyes. "let's just get this over with.." he shakes his head, feeling a hand of support from his future wife run up and down his back. "the faster we get through with this the faster we both get out of here".

yinuo is happy to know chenle doesn't despise her, he's just not comfortable with her, and chenle, he really is trying his best, he might be coming off as rude, but he just isn't on board with this whole thing. "they're all so extra, making us do this.."

"right, the least they could do is make us enter at different times but no, we have to do this walk in together like were walking down the aisle".

chenle glances down at their linked arms, letting a sigh escape his lips as the two of them finally exit the room they had been put into together. starting their way off to the meeting room down the hall, chenle allows for his mind to wander, he can't be focused on his fiancée or upcoming marriage, he's much too focused on other things.

you, namely.

the crown prince can't focus on what's going on when the only thing prominent in his mind is you. yeah your exchange last night was a short one, but it was also a memorable one. after weeks of going back and forth with things that just didn't make sense, and a mind that was in a frenzy, just talking to you in the middle of the night was enough to relax chenle.

you two haven't been able to talk in the past few weeks.. evidently, chenle is a prince to be king who has to focus on ruling a kingdom and your a medic who has to focus on taking care of others. you two have no time to be friends now that you're adults, it doesn't help that chenle now has all this added pressure on him, and you clearly feel like he's become a stranger.

chenle guesses the.. power imbalance is what's driving this. he's apart of the royal family, a crown prince, set to take the crown and become king, your a commoner, someone who lives just above the poverty line, the only reason you're able to stay afloat is because you took up your mothers position as the palace's medic, but even then, you can almost barely take care of her.

chenle hates thinking about it, because the two of you used to be so close, an unbreakable pair, two boys who couldn't be separated even with the differences between you two. your ranks in society never bothered you, never disturbed your friendship, never disturbed you as a pair, it never mattered. he often finds himself reminiscing on those times, the times where he could see you without his mind listing everything he had to do after that.

"chenle? are you listening?"

chenle blinks out of his daze, arm still linked with yinuo's as he gazes at his future father in law. he pretends to not see the look of worry the woman on his arm sends him, clearing his throat. "yeah, my apologies".

"uh huh, my regards to you, i know the sudden.. passing of the king was hard on you, and we hope your grieving well".

so your throwing your daughter at me, how great. chenle laughs in his mind, tongue poking through his inner cheek, he already knew he wasn't going to like where this was going. "now, about the marriage—"

chenle tunes him out easily, letting out a silent sigh which his mother hears, sending him a glare from across the room as the breath escapes his lips. he doesn't pay any mind to the look from his mother, though he knows she's quickly getting annoyed with how he isn't paying attention.

the discussion is exactly how chenle thought it'd be, the parents discuss everything and just assume their children agree from the get go, they don't even bother asking them their thoughts, or even how they felt, they just threw them into this like they were some baby making machines.

chenle guesses it's just how the cycle goes, his parents had to go through this, and so did their parents before them, and their parents before them, and so on. this is how things work, chenle can't run away from his fate, even with how much he opposes this arrangement.

"and for children.." just the mention of children is enough to make both chenle and yinuo tense, but they both play it off as the cold of the room making them flinch. "you can decide how many you want, but more than one would be nice, and especially a son would be nice".

of course, chenle sings in his head. he wonders how much they'll have to drill that into their heads, some stupid importance men have or something. he glances at his fiancée, whose trembling in her place beside him. he places a gentle hand on her back. "it's alright, calm down" he whispers enough so that she can hear it over the chatter of her father and mother.

"this is not fun".

"yeah, tell me about it" the crown prince grits his teeth, his comment eliciting a small laugh out of the woman beside him. he has to admit, he does enjoy her company.

"ah, i see you two are getting along!"

upon hearing the remark, the two pause, an awkward silence spreading between them. they exchange a small glance before chenle clears his throat, speaking up. "yeah um.. this was a nice meeting, we can continue chatting about the marriage another time, we thank you for coming, the guards will escort you out".

though chenle smiles at his future in laws, he feels nothing but nauseous the whole time.

"WHERE ARE YOU HEADING, YOUR HIGHNESS?" THE QUESTION from kun isn't enough to make chenle stop in his tracks, and he continues his way down the hall. kun blinks as the younger ignores him, furrowing his eyebrows. he then lets out a sigh, letting his hands drop as his eyes stay pointed at the crown prince. "chenle? where are you going?" chenle still doesn't stop, but he seems to acknowledge the older this time.

"to the rose garden" he responds quickly, only getting another eyebrow furrow from the older. he finally stops, turning towards the other with a look that kun cannot exactly pinpoint at the current moment. "if you need me, i'll be there".

"is something wrong?"

chenle takes in a breath, gritting his teeth. curse qian kun for being so caring, curse him for always knowing when something's up. he's quick to shake his head, mustering the fakest of fake smiles. "nothing's wrong! i just need fresh air!"

kun blinks, totally not buying that horrible lie, but he doesn't say anything about it, just mutters a small "okay" and lets chenle be on his way. chenle didn't mean to lie to kun, he just doesn't know how to explain his feelings at the current moment.

so, he gives the older a small smile, turning on his heel and making a beeline towards the titular rose garden, the one that's given him so much comfort over these past few years. he doesn't know why just the presence of everyone in that room was enough to make him want to throw up, but his anxieties wouldn't settle, he can't bear to stay inside this castle much longer.

chenle has no idea why the feeling of suffocation is constantly overtaking him these days, but the walls are slowly pushing in on him, leaving him breathless and nothing more than a weak human vessel.

when chenle does finally step outside, met by a plethora of roses and the smell of pollen in the air, the pit in his stomach doesn't settle. instead of letting out a sigh of relief, he pauses in his tracks, allowing for his eyes to roam the area he'd grown to love as a child.

chenle sighs, not of relief, but sighs with another indescribable feeling he can't explain, walking up to a display of white roses. he knows they're sharp, your old warnings flash in his head as he stares at the pretty flowers before him, tracing them with his fingers as he's always done when in the rose garden.

"don't hurt yourself again, your highness".

it's when chenle hears you that he immediately jumps, but then he relaxes, slowly. what were the odds of this happening again? you seem to read his mind, because you chuckle at the expression which graces his features. chenle raises an eyebrow, a humored smile coming to his face. "you sure you actually have bandaids this time?"

the reference makes you snicker, looking down at the floor as you turn away from your childhood friend. you rummage through your pocket, finally pulling out a bandaid, one which wasn't present when you were seven and yelling for chenle to not touch the roses. "there you go, now you won't cut your finger".

for once today, chenle suddenly feels relaxed, it's always with you, isn't it? his mind notes that down, he'll remember it for later. he takes the bandaid from you, a smile coming to his face as the nostalgia settles on him. "thank you, you're always looking after everyone, you sure know how to do your job".

the words make you pause, but you don't look at chenle as you think of a response, instead turning to the white roses displayed in front of you. you lightly poke them, letting out a small hum of affirmation. "well, what kind of medic would i be if i didn't look out for others? i'd be an idiot to ever let our highness get hurt".

chenle's lips turn up, and he laughs in just the slightest, but he isn't sure why he laughs. there's just something about you that makes chenle feel at ease, you calm his worries without even having to do anything, it's not like he's even telling you about these worries either, but the anxiety he once felt seems to be nothing now.

spending time with you calms chenle, he wants to preserve as much of this time as possible.

"i started reading your recommendation" chenle suddenly blurts out, wanting to continue a conversation with you. he doesn't know how limited your time will be. "frenchman's creek.. i like it so far, it's an interesting choice, though".

you raise an eyebrow. "why's that?"

"i didn't peg you for an enjoyer of pirate romances" chenle shrugs, and he quickly looks away, not wanting to stare at you for too long, because he doesn't think he'd be able to look away.

"well i don't like limiting my interests to one genre, you'd know about that".

chenle blinks, the words striking him in a way only the words you say can. how do you always manage to do that? it's not really the words, it's just how you say them, even if you don't make your intentions clear, chenle always knows what you mean. "it always manages to surprise me, i'm not sure what's gonna happen next".

you click your tongue, a small smile coming to your face. "just so you know, it doesn't have a happy ending".

chenle gasps, overdramatizing the volume of his voice. "you're giving me spoilers? in the rose garden?" his words make you snicker, and you pick a white rose from the bush, unfazed by the thorns which slowly sink into your fingers.

"i didn't spoil anything specific" you finally turn back to chenle, twirling the rose between your fingers. "just told how it was gonna end up.." you mutter, stepping closer to chenle unconsciously. you look at up, suddenly anxious as ever. "may i?" you ask, motioning towards the rose with your eyes.

chenle blinks, his mind going blank for a few seconds. what do you want to do exactly? he gazes at your hands fidgeting on the stem of the flower, and the pieces slowly put themselves together in his brain. are you going to..? "i— yes, sure.."

you raise an eyebrow, not really trusting the seemingly hesitant consent chenle had given, but he clears his throat, reiterating it for you; "yes, you can".

upon hearing the answer, you step closer once again, placing the rose into his hair, your careful to not hurt chenle, and especially careful because you don't want the stem to get tangled in chenle's hair. "i.. i thought it'd look nice on you, and it does, you look— you look great".

chenle blinks, a sudden red hue coloring his cheeks. it's such a basic compliment, one he's been given many times by other people, but it feels different coming from you.

it's always different when it's with you.

chenle clears his throat, unable to prevent a smile from crossing his face. you don't look at him anymore, looking away to prevent yourself from burning up, but you allow for a smile to come to your face as you think about the action you just performed.

you have no idea why you're so giddy about this.

"oh um.." chenle pauses, laughing awkwardly. "thank you, that's very sweet".

"oh it's no problem i just— i uh, it compliments your hair".

chenle hums, looking down at the floor. he hopes you don't see his face burning, and you hope he doesn't see your face burning, it's such a hilarious thing, but you both are much too flustered to find your current circumstances amusing. "you have an eye for those things too?"

"well i have an eye for many things".

i can see that, chenle doesn't say that, though, just smiles at you. you only give him a mere glance, and a small smile yourself. "it was nice seeing you, ch— your highness" you notice how your correction makes chenle frown, but you continue. "i'll be off now, have a good day".

chenle only frowns again when he realizes your time together is over, he wants to continue the conversation, wants to try to use an excuse, wants to use his power to order you to stay, but he doesn't give into the desires he wants so badly, just nods. "oh uh, don't let me keep you here".

you chuckle. "i wouldn't really mind if you did".

the words have an unspoken affect on chenle, an affect that he can't exactly explain, but he can feel. he can feel it in the way his ears heat up and his stomach flips. "alright then, bye y/n".

"bye".

and as chenle watches you leave, the feeling of anxiety he'd entered the garden with seemed to wither away, dissolving away like it was nothing.

he thinks about your 'bye' for hours, unable to get the sound of your voice out of his bed.

"HOW HAVE YOU BEEN THESE DAYS?" CHENLE doesn't answer immediately, as always these days. he skims the row of books before him, fidgeting with the one in his hands. he's not ignoring his friend, he's just focused on other things. "fine" he responds, grunting as he lightly struggles to pull the book from the shelf, but he doesn't ask for help. he doesn't need help. "what's with that look?"

park jisung blinks at his longtime friend, raising a suspicious eyebrow at him. "you don't look fine".

chenle scoffs, suddenly feeling super defensive. he doesn't look at jisung anymore, the other is going to begin to annoy him if he keeps staring at him. "what do you know about looking fine?"

he hears jisung's sigh of defeat. "well i'm just concerned for you, we haven't talked in a while, you've been so busy preparing for your coronation and.. marriage".

chenle resists the urge to roll his eyes. "my coronation isn't for another three months, preparations have all been lackluster".

"and the marriage?"

chenle snaps his head towards jisung, giving him an indescribable look. jisung is quick to shut his mouth, not wanting to face chenle's terrifying wrath. the older prince glares dangerously at the younger, who chuckles awkwardly and scratches his hand. he doesn't have to say anything, but jisung knows he should probably change the subject.

"uh.. um, are you still friends with that medic kid?"

now that is a question chenle wasn't expecting. a question about you? when he snaps his head over at jisung for the second time, the younger almost freezes, noticing the pointed look in his eyes. "what?"

"y/n, the medic kid!" jisung reiterates, clearly thinking the issue is that chenle didn't hear him the first time. "his mom used to work here, right? is he still around?"

chenle narrows his eyes, puzzled at where jisung is trying to go with this.. question. he'd been dealt with a fair amount of teasing from his friend because of how much closer the two of you seemed, jisung often questioned how much of a "friend" you really were to chenle, but the older would always combat it with a glare and snappy insult as a response.

"yes he's still around.. he took over mrs. l/n's position".

jisung blinks dumbly. "oh? what happened to her?"

just the question is enough to put a sour taste in chenle's mouth. "she just couldn't go on any longer one day, she retired a few years ago and he took over her position".

"you don't know what happened to her?"

"y/n didn't tell me anything specific" chenle is beginning to get annoyed. he knows it's in jisung's nature to be curious like this but god, if he wanted to know these things so bad he could've just asked you. "just go ask him if you're so curious".

he hears a small "hmph" sound from jisung before the younger prince sounds again. "i will then! y/n! hey!"

chenle didn't actually think you'd be passing by the library at that exact moment, but you were. you pause, backtracking as you look into the library, blinking at the jumping prince before you. "uh— hi, your highness, what do you need me for?"

jisung is quick to chuckle, waving off your use of formalities. "please, there's no need to be so formal, were friends after all!"

you only respond with a small smile, giving chenle a mere glance. "i'm just doing what i'm supposed to, i can't call you by your name.."

"well right now, you're going to call me by my name" jisung demands, which makes you snicker. he really hasn't changed. you look down at the floor, hands picking at your nails. "your allowed to, right chenle?"

chenle was not expecting to be included in this conversation. is jisung reading his mind or something? how could he seem to tell exactly what chenle wanted to say? he feels his face heat up, but he isn't exactly sure why it does that. "i mean— yeah, yes, were friends".

jisung then turns back to you, a clear 'see?' expression on his face as he smiles in victory at chenle proving him right. you chuckle at chenle's response, smiling again, but it's much more directed at chenle this time. "fine then, jisung, what do you need me for?"

jisung then walks towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder (a hand chenle is suddenly laser focused on) almost as if to reassure you. "how have you been?"

your eyebrows furrow. it's not a weird question to ask, you just weren't expecting for him to ask a question. you share another confused glance with chenle, then snickering lightly. "fine.. i uh— i've just been trying my best, as always".

jisung hums, his finger going up to caress your cheek lightly, a finger which chenle again laser focuses on, he can't help but narrow his eyes at jisung, wondering what the hell is he doing?

"uh huh, and how's your mother?"

at the mere mention of your mother, you seem to go still, pausing as you let jisung's question simmer into the air. you try your best to collect your words, opening your mouth to speak, but then you close it, as if wanting to keep your thoughts to yourself.

chenle picks up on your sudden silence, as if he could feel your heightened anxieties, he speaks up; "are you alright, y/n?" he asks, concern lacing his tone as he sees the worry in your eyes as you think about your mother.

you snap out of your little daze, clearing your throat as you nod. "yeah yeah, i uh— i'm fine, mom is.. she's doing okay".

"okay?"

"she's sick" you blurt quickly, fingers fidgeting at shirt collar. "but she's doing much better now, i'm taking care of her and everything.." you look away from the two royals, scratching your cheek out of habit.

"oh, oh my god i didn't know she was sick" jisung realizes how awkward he made the situation. "um, i wish her the best".

chenle doesn't say anything, he sees the way you glance around the room, desperately trying to think about everything else. "yeah, tell her i said hi" he states immediately, and you finally stop looking around the room to look at chenle, he notices that look in your eyes, the one where it seems like your about to cry, but you're holding in your tears.

even with all that, you smile at chenle, as if his words had healed you in some way. "i'll make sure to do that, i uh.. i have to go now, i don't want for anyone to die while i stand here".

jisung's eyes widen, and he gasps. "right! go go, you have a job to do, sorry for holding you up" you dismiss his words with a wave, jisung is still so cute, as cute as he was when you were children.

"it's fine really, you actually kind of made my day".

"well i'm happy that i could!"

you smile again at jisung, then smile lightly at chenle, who almost wants to jump towards you and trap you in a tight hug. "thank you, your hi— jisung" you quickly correct yourself, clearing your throat. "i'll see you some other time, and you chenle, i'll see you later".

chenle allows for himself to go red at the words, what do you mean by later? he tries his best to register the words, and the fact that you just called him by his name after what seems like forever, but he doesn't say anything, even though he feels jisung's gaze burning holes into his head. "later? yeah, later".

chenle has no idea why he agreed.

it's you, that's why he agreed.

WHEN CHENLE FINDS HIMSELF SLEEPLESS AGAIN that very night, he doesn't even think before raising out of his bed and deciding he was going to go to the library. he stares at the copy of frenchman's creek on his desk, mind immediately flashing with thoughts of you. he feels the structure of the book cover with his finger, blinking as he weighs his options for a moment. he could go back to sleep, but he could also go to the library and entertain himself with more literature.

"i already got up anyway.." chenle mutters to himself, grabbing the book on his desk and the situated lamp on his desk. he doesn't mind the chills which course through his body, though it's cold, the cold is no longer a bother to him, he's much too busy thinking about books (and you) anyway..

when chenle leaves his room, he notices the halls aren't as dark as they were the other time he walked them when he went to the library the other night. he blinks into the halls, the air practically pushing against him the moment he leaves his room. chenle allows for himself to let out a weary breath, no one is around to watch him be vulnerable anyway.

as he steps out of his room, the floor of the old structure creaking under his feet, he feels a breeze of cold air rush past him, but for some unknown reason, he doesn't shiver.

chenle doesn't allow for himself to stand by and simply breath any longer, so, he takes himself down the hallway, his feet leading him to his familiar place of solace (well second most at least). he notices how the hallway seems to be more lit, he could see torches as he passed through the long corridors, eyes trained on the paintings which situated themselves on the walls.

there have always been paintings decorating the walls, paintings which dictate the many generations of the zhong family. chenle watched as a kid as an artist was appointed to paint him, father, and mother, a new painting to place on the timeline of the zhong dynasty which would extend across the entire palace.

as chenle spends more time thinking about it, it dawns on him, he's going to be displayed on the wall in a painting one day as the king. one day he's going to have to sit down with yinuo and their inevitable child as an artist uses several colors on a canvas to create a painting of the next zhong generation, and his eventual child is going to have to walk past it every time they make it through this expanse of a hallway.

chenle used to enjoy staring at the paintings, used to love watching the process of paintings being created, but now, with father gone, chenle can't bring himself to glance at the painting situated on the wall without feeling nauseous. every time he tries to look at it, a silent breath has to escape his lips, or else he feels like he's going to collapse onto the floor.

he developed a habit of speed walking past the final portrait in the hallway after fathers passing, he could never look at his face again after having to watch the life slowly fade away from his eyes. he can't even look at a photograph of his father anymore without wanting to throw up everywhere.

when chenle makes it to the library, having walked very fast past the last painting in the hallway, he pushes open the doors immediately, wanting so badly to escape the suffocating hallway.

when chenle does make it into the room, he's quick to close the door behind him, but he startles when he notices that someone else is in the room. he blinks and narrows his eyes at the figure in the room, then, he relaxes as he quickly realizes who it is.

it's you.

chenle feels himself calm in just the slightest upon knowing it's you in the room and not some other staff member. it's not that chenle has anything against the other staff, it's just.. it's different with you.

how many times does his mind have to conjure that up as an excuse?

chenle ignores the reprimanding voice, it's one he vaguely recognizes, it's not his voice, it's a distant voice that he thinks he could recognize if he focused hard enough.

but he can't, because you notice him, seemingly reading his thoughts as you turn back to make eye contact with the crown prince. "hi".

"hi" chenle replies easily, it's awkward, of course it's awkward, it's the middle of the night. his eyes dart away from yours, immediately scouring the library. you allow for yourself to snicker at his lack of attention on you, and he notices, now staring dead at you. "what?"

"nothing nothing" you mutter, dismissing it with a wave of your hand. chenle wants to ask about it, but he doesn't, just looks down at the floor. "how was it?"

"huh?"

"the book" you clarify, glancing down at the copy of frenchman's creek chenle has in his hands. chenle quickly feels his face heat up, of course you were referring to the book, what else would you be talking about? the air in the room? his walk down the halls? how he's doing? you patiently wait for his answer, flipping through a book in your hands as you let out a sigh.

"oh uh— it's a surprise, that's for sure, i didn't expect to enjoy it as much as i did, i didn't enjoy the ending, though".

you raise an eyebrow, but a smile comes to your face. "why not?"

chenle finally unfreezes and steps closer to you, the book tucked in his arms as he stands beside you, your shoulders lightly brushing against each other. your eyes finally gaze over at his, and when the two of you make eye contact, it's brief. chenle blinks, and he allows for his lips to turn up, he thinks you look very pretty in this moment, the lighting of the library emphasizing your features.

beautiful, he's beautiful, chenle, a voice sings in his head, a voice which is, again, familiar, but he can't exactly determine who it is.

"i wanted dona and jean to get their happy ending, i was rooting for them".

you hum, seemingly expecting that answer, your eyes shift towards the shelf before you, focused on the books which litter it. "well, i like to think it's realistic, it's not often that people get their happy endings, even if they do deserve it".

chenle takes in your words, it seems like such a you thing to say. "i would've preferred if they did have a happy ending, though, it's why i read fiction in the first place".

"you read fiction because..?"

"it's like an escape from reality".

the words make you pause, and for a second, chenle thinks he must've said something wrong, he can't read the look on your face. he blinks up at you, your silence taking him off guard. "i mean, i guess that makes sense".

you seem to want to say something else, you seem to have a lot of thoughts on your mind, but you don't disclose any of them, just smile. "so, did you like the book?..your highness".

you hesitated before saying it, and chenle knows you wanted to say his name, but you stopped yourself, as always. he feels his gut curl in an uncomfortable way, and he clears his throat.

"y/n?"

"yes?"

chenle takes a deep breath. "were friends" he states immediately, and he notices the way you begin to avoid his eyes, looking everywhere but at him. "were friends, we've known each other since we were seven, you can call me by my name".

the truthful statement makes you pause, and you begin to scour your mind for excuses. "i can't call you by your name, your a noble and i'm a—"

"that's an order".

your mouth closes immediately, you can't argue with that, you can't really argue with anything chenle says. chenle seems pleased by his victory, a small smile showing on his face. you quickly scoff, turning your head away from your childhood friend. "of course you can just do that".

"i just.. it doesn't matter if you work here, your my friend, you can call me by my name".

"alright then, your— chenle, did you like the book?"

chenle chuckles lightly, oh he loves the way you say his name. he remembers when you were younger, you'd always pronounce his name wrong, it frustrated you so much that you would just call him 'le' instead of his full name.

"i did, it was an enjoyable book, the plot made me crave more, i just.. i can't believe it ended like that".

"your still mad about it?"

"yes i'm mad about it! i need my happy ending for my pirate love story!"

you giggle at his words, you giggle, chenle can't believe it. he just made you giggle, in the dead of night, in the palace library, he made you giggle. you take the book away from his hands, placing it back between the other books in the romance section. "sadly, most love stories don't end that way".

chenle sighs, clicking his tongue. "i hate when that happens, i'd like to have just a little hope that true love actually works in the end.."

you chuckle again, shaking your head. "i never thought you'd be a fan of happy endings and stuff like that".

chenle raises an eyebrow, puzzled by the words. "why's that?" he asks, sounding just the slightest bit offended at the statement. you blink, and he guesses that you notice his tone of offense. you find it humorous, and chenle furrows his eyebrows this time.

"i don't know, i guess you struck me as the kind of person who'd enjoy bittersweet endings, you know, you seem to enjoy tragic love stories".

"i do enjoy tragic love stories" chenle makes sure to emphasize his point, and he quickly looks away from you. "but i also like when they have good endings, sometimes, love stories need their happy endings".

"that's cute" you comment, and chenle allows for a smile to come to his face. you didn't call him cute, per se, but it's still enough to make his cheeks go red. he should not be flustered, that's ridiculous, that's— he can't be flustered.

you don't mind his silence, instead walking over to another shelf to see what other books are there. chenle pokes his tongue against his inner cheek, watching you intently. the red dusting his cheeks doesn't go away, it just seems to amplify as you have your back towards him. "it's cute?"

"yeah, i can see where you're coming from, not all love stories need to be.. realistic, if it makes you feel better when the lovers have a happy ending, than who am i to judge?"

chenle rocks back and forth on his heels, letting out a small hum at your words. "so you're the kind of guy who enjoys tragic love stories with horrible endings?"

"on most occasions, yes".

you seem to finally find a book that you'll enjoy, because you pick one from the shelf and turn back to chenle. "so how are you feeling?"

"what?"

you merely glance at chenle, than glance back down at the book in your hands and read the synopsis on the back of it. "how are you feeling these days? you have a lot of new things being stacked on you now, you must be stressed out".

chenle allows for his jaw to drop in just the slightest, it's not like people don't ask him about how he feels, it's that he can't believe you noticed the mini battle he was having with himself. he can't believe you would even be concerned about how he was feeling, he felt like most people wouldn't care about what he was going through anyway.

"oh it's.." chenle pauses, truly not being able to actual formulate coherent words. "well it's a lot, but nothing i haven't been taught how to handle by father".

your face forms into an unreadable expression, one chenle hates because he doesn't exactly know what kind of expression it is. "they prepare you for things like this?"

"well.. mostly, but even with all the excessive lessons, it all kinds of goes to my head and makes my head spin, sometimes it feels like the palace is suffocating me, taking the air out of my lungs and leaving me helpless, sometimes— i don't know, i feel like i'm being swallowed by some horrible force which just wants to make me suffer, i'm not sure why i feel like this really but—"

chenle stops, clearing his throat as he quickly averts his gaze from yours. he has no idea where that vomit of words came from, but he feels if he continues talking, he's going to say something that he'll regret. you don't answer immediately, so chenle decides to speak up once again. "i'm sorry, i have no idea where that came from it's just.. i don't know, pretend i didn't say anything".

"don't apologize, it's good to talk about things like that once in a while, bottling everything up will just overwhelm you even more".

"it's just, i don't talk to people about things like this".

"why not?"

chenle shrugs, not really sure how to answer that question. "i feel they're sort of..unnecessary, i know i can't control how i feel but my feelings have never really felt important in most situations".

"they're important to me".

the words make chenle pause, his ears reddening and a sputter in his voice as he tries his best to respond to that statement. the words are so simple, but they have such a lasting effect on the crown prince that he can't really respond to them. you care, you care, he cares! that one inner voice screams in his head. he feels his heart begin beating sporadically, it's.. god he's so grateful for you. "oh.. uh, really?"

you smile, chuckling softly. "yeah they are, you shouldn't ever feel like they aren't".

chenle feels his stomach flip, you're so sweet. "i.. thank you, y/n".

chenle hopes you don't notice his red face as you spend the rest of the night conversing about several kinds of literature.

"ARE YOU NERVOUS?" CHENLE MAKES THE MISTAKE OF taking a weary breath when that question is asked. he hears the chuckle of amusement sound from his fiancée's lips, and he allows for a small smile to show on his face. "no" he responds, clearly lying, but yinuo doesn't seem to catch it, as he begins to pick at the fabric of her dress. he turns to her, noticing the clear anxiety she displays.

"i am" she responds, putting on her gloves and rubbing a scar on her knuckles. "i've never really been a big fan of.. crowds" she states, her tone exhibiting disgust as she says the word 'crowds'. chenle has been able to pick up on her habits pretty easily, he has spent much more time with her these days after all.

chenle hums at the response, he gets it, even as he grew up having to get used to these kinds of events, it never got easier. the pit in his stomach would often never cease, that nauseating feeling only heightened, and he could just barely mask the anxious expression on his face. "i get that, they're all too loud".

"i mean, do they really care about us that much? they can't just wait until the wedding.."

the sentence makes chenle snicker as he notices the mere irritation in her tone. "they all just want something to do, i guess" he mutters, pulling his sleeve over his wrist and repeating a reassuring mantra in his head.

it's nothing you haven't done before, chenle, just get it over with, and you'll be fine. chenle thinks if he focuses enough, he can hear his father's voice repeating the mantra to him in his head.

he caresses his wrist lightly, settling in the air of the room. he can hear the faint sound of people cheering outside, and just the sound is enough to make his stomach begin flipping, the anxiety is already heightening. "all that just to see us?"

"they want to see how in love we can look".

"seems unnecessary".

"it is unnecessary".

chenle laughs again, finally walking over to his fiancée and linking their arms together. he sighs, looking down at the floor. "you sure you're not nervous?" she asks once again, raising a curious eyebrow as she notices chenle's change in behavior.

"okay maybe i am a little nervous but that's besides the point".

yinuo laughs, humored by chenle's blatant honesty. he simply gives a small smile, turning to the door of the room and letting out another small breath. they have to face a crowd, a crowd of people who are here to see them and celebrate their totally real love, a crowd who are there to watch as they are confirmed future husband and wife, they're going to get married and have children that go on to take the throne, they have to look in love, they have to.. act in love.

chenle doesn't know how in love he can look, he might get too overwhelmed and throw up right then and there. just the idea of having to do all of this is enough to make him want to cry, and he never thought he'd ever think that, because he doesn't cry, he shouldn't cry, father taught him that enough through ear shattering yells and broken glass.

he hates feeling vulnerable, but in a moment like this, having to mask his feelings in front of a crowd of people who don't know any better, who probably don't care, vulnerability is his one true feeling.

he closes his eyes, taking another deep breath as he tries his best to ignore the anxiety settling upon him.

"chenle!"

chenle snaps out his anxious daze at the shout of his name, recognizing the voice as kun, who he remembers he forgot to greet this morning, as he was in a rush.

but it's not just kun, it's also you, and chenle almost falls to the floor and dies right then and there. kun has his fingers wrapped around your wrist, there's a smile on his face (and yours, chenle thinks your smile is so so pretty). "oh, hi kun, y/n".

look at both of them, chenle, not just y/n.

but for once, chenle doesn't listen to the reprimanding voice in his head.

he doesn't even check how in love with you he must look, just a few seconds ago he was freaking out over how he was supposed to look in love with the woman beside him, but he has no problem looking in love with you.

but he doesn't exactly realize that, too busy admiring you clear as day.

"i— we just wanted to wish you good luck" kun nudges you lightly, and you let out a small laugh as you look away nervously, a red hue tinting your cheeks as you avoid chenle's eyes. "both of you, your highness" he adds, bowing lightly at yinuo and nudging you so you can do the same.

yinuo just smiles, lightly laughing, but chenle is stuck in place, mesmerized by you and.. just you. "thank you, i have to say, everyone here is insanely sweet, i feel welcome".

"well that's my job, i can't have any future queens feeling uncomfortable".

the statement from kun makes you snort, and you shove him in the shoulder. you look away from him to glance at chenle, who is still lost in his mind, you furrow your eyebrows as you watch the cogs in his brains turn, what is he thinking so hard about?

"chenle" you call out.

seemingly snapping out of the trip inside of his mind, chenle looks up at you, hoping it isn't obvious that he's affected by your soft calling of his name. "good luck" you reiterate, a small whisper seemingly shared between only the two of you.

chenle feels his face heat up immediately, eyes widening at the sight of your pretty smile. "thank you, both of you, thank you".

chenle doesn't look over at yinuo when she gives him a weird look.

"right! again, good luck! y/n and i have to go do something right y/n?"

you seem to be puzzled by that comment, chenle determines that by the way your eyebrows furrow. "what? but i thought we were supposed to—"

"alright! good luck you two come on y/n let's go!" kun gives a quick smile and grabs your wrist again to drag you away from the newly engaged couple, who watch as you two make your way down the hall towards another part of the palace.

"weird.." chenle mutters.

"so what was that?" yinuo is quick to ask, making chenle snap his head towards her, clearly not expecting for her to ask him a question.

"what was what?"

"that, chenle" she reiterates, alluding to the little (not so little) lovesick gaze chenle had trained on you for that whole interaction. it's clear that, even with how chenle didn't check the adoration he was staring at you with, she definitely did. "you looked so smitten".

chenle allows for his expression to form into one of shock, what does she mean by that? what the fuck does she mean by that? that makes no sense, it's not like he's in love with you or anything, that would be absurd! that would be—

that wouldn't be entirely out of the picture, think about yourself chenle, the most shocking thing here would be you having no romantic feelings for him.

chenle is about to punch himself in the face for having such thoughts.

"i have no idea what your talking about".

"chenle, i know i don't know you personally like that, but i have never seen you look at someone like you look at him! what is his name? y/n? he has to have you under a spell or something, you were mesmerized".

chenle wants to say that those words are stupid, he wants to spit out some quick rebuttal and have them be on their way, but he can't muster up a coherent excuse for what she just described. how is he supposed to argue with that?

"well, y/n does know how to keep people on the hook".

"seems you enjoy being kept on the hook".

the statement makes chenle pause, and he feels his face burn once again, not at the words, but just at the thought of you, god he misses your presence already, is that weird to say? he's glad he doesn't say it out loud.

"it doesn't matter anyway, what am i supposed to do? tell him about it? not with how everything is turning out.. were getting married in a few months".

"but you're not in love with me" yinuo replies, she's sure of her words, she just knows, chenle almost feels like she's reading his mind. "you want him".

"i can't have him" chenle states as if it's a matter of fact, and it's true, he can't have you. it makes his heart hurt, the idea that even with how much he feels for you, how different it is with you, and how he's had these indescribable feelings for you since he was like eleven, he can't have you.

chenle can't run from his fate, the last thing he wants to do is break the rules, challenge a system that's been in place for pretty much decades at this point.

"you're not going to break the rules for true love?"

chenle just lets a disappointed sigh escape his lips, his stomach flips uncomfortably and he feels his head begin spinning, this topic makes him want to die in the worst way possible. "true love doesn't exist" he states rather harshly. god, he sounds like father, if seven year old chenle heard himself now, he'd grimace at the words and scowl at his new nature.

his heart aches as he utters those words, he can't help but think about you as he says those words.

good god, he feels so helpless.

"MOTHER, CAN I ASK YOU A QUESTION?" NINE YEAR OLD CHENLE liked to ask questions. chenle has always liked to ask questions, being curious is in his nature, it's just that unlike jisung, he's less annoying about it. when this question popped into his nine year old brain, he knew there was no way he could ever ask father about it, he'd never be able to come back from it. mother has always been much more understanding, even with the stubborn statements she often spouted.

"yes you can, chenle".

"are.. well, can a noble and a commoner ever end up together?"

the question received silence from his mother, who, though she had previously been humming to a pleasant tune, seemed to freeze at even the idea of that question. the nine year old prince watched as his mother's face did at least seven expression changes in a matter of seconds. "could you elaborate on that question, dear?"

"can royalty marry non-royalty? could i ever be with someone who isn't royal like me?"

the reason nine year old chenle was so interested in asking this question was because of something kun had mentioned to him, about one of his cousins marrying into a royal family far far away. it got his mind turning in ways only a child's mind can, he never knew that could happen, he had grown to think that he would just end up with any other princess but could he really have a different fate? could he really change his future?

seeing as how things have gone now.. no, he couldn't.

"it depends on how it goes down, chenle".

"has it ever happened before?"

"of course it has happened" his mother finally answered, and the curious young prince allowed for his eyes to widen comically. oh he was so interested now. "in most scenarios when it does happen the commoner becomes a royal".

"i thought that was outlawed".

that statement got a laugh out of his mother, which made the nine year old blink dumbly. "it can't be outlawed, chenle, that would be ridiculous".

"so could i be with someone of a different class?"

"well, it depends on how it all works out".

chenle blinked again, the wording of the sentence confusing the young prince even more. "would father ever approve of something like that?"

she then went silent again, turning away from chenle to gaze at the bright blue sky. "i'm.. not sure, you know how unpredictable he is".

"well that's why i didn't ask him this".

another chuckle sounded from his mother, and at nine years old, chenle didn't know what was more shocking, knowing that he could possibly not have to be forced into a marriage with a princess from a faraway kingdom, or knowing that his mother didn't really have an issue with that.

too bad he didn't try to use any of that childlike courage to get his point about this marriage across.

when the little parade celebrating his marriage is over, chenle finds himself immediately on his way somewhere. he doesn't know exactly where he was going, his feet seem to have control over themselves, and he can't exactly stop himself from walking.

oh, he knows where he's going.

his feet lead him to a familiar place, your office. throughout that whole.. gathering thing or whatever, he couldn't stop thinking about you. he usually can't stop thinking about you these days, just talking to you is enough to entertain his mind for weeks, surely that can't be normal, right?

"y/n?"

chenle's sudden call startles you, seeing as how you jump from your previous position at the sound of it. he just sort of stands there awkwardly, allowing for you to compose yourself as you smile at him. oh you're smile is so pretty, chenle could stare at it for hours. "oh lord, you scared me! your highness".

chenle doesn't even register the title, just gives a small smile. "sorry i'm just.." he pauses, trying to collect his words. "i don't know, actually, i just kind of came here on a whim" he shrugs, looking down at the floor and not straight at you.

you simply let out a silent chuckle, turning back to your desk and going back to packing. chenle blinks, biting down on his bottom lip as he clears his throat. "oh really? is something bothering you?"

chenle allows for himself to look up again, your back is turned now anyway, so you can't see his rapidly reddening face. "a lot is bothering me, really, it feels like i can't do anything these days without feeling like the world is slowly tearing me apart limb by limb".

"well that's certainly a way to explain your feelings" chenle can't tell how you feel about the whole thing from the tone of your voice, it's something that makes him worry, because he's anxious your making fun of him and he won't be able to tell.

much to his own surprise, you turn around and step towards him. "are you feeling alright? like— physically at least?" you ask, tilting your head to the side to get a better look at him. just your eyes on him is enough to have chenle's stomach doing cartwheels, he hopes you don't notice how flustered he is, that would be extremely embarrassing.

"yeah i'm not dying or anything i'm just.. i'm overwhelmed".

well you'd expect that from someone like chenle, someone in such a position of power. chenle is a crown prince set to be king, he's getting married in a few months (that fact makes your heart hurt for a reason you can't explain), he's the next ruler of the zhong dynasty, of course he is feeling overwhelmed.

"ah well that's expected" you laugh lightly. "you have no symptoms though?"

is my clearly reddening face a symptom? my fluttering stomach? my seemingly labored breathing? why can't you tell i'm madly in love with you yet!?

the screaming voice in his head is just as annoyed as chenle is at his current circumstances. you narrow your eyes as you stare at him, and for a moment, chenle thinks you might be reading his mind, but he quickly dismisses such thoughts because that's ridiculous.

"no, no symptoms, i'm alright".

you seem to want to ask for more reassurance, but you don't, instead shutting your mouth and smiling at chenle. "good, i can't have you dying".

"you'd never let me die".

"you're right about that".

chenle looks down at the floor, determined to not make eye contact with you. "where are you heading?"

chenle only realizes then that you're packing your stuff, he didn't even note it down when he stepped into the room and saw that you were doing it, he was much more focused on just beginning a conversation with you, he was much more focused on talking than observing.

you hum, giving him a mere glance then looking back down to the small set of items you were packing. "i'm going to visit my mother".

chenle blinks, the words coming as a small surprise to him. "why? is she alright?"

you quickly glance back up to give him a reassuring smile. "just doing a routine check up, and it's nice to visit your mother once in a while, i need to make sure she's doing well".

chenle responds with a small 'ah', watching as you continue to pack, he feels his stomach churn uncomfortably once again, if he stays in this castle any longer, he might die from the walls which seem to slowly be pushing the air out of his lungs.

"can i come?"

chenle has no idea where that came from, it's like he had no control over his own thoughts or words, he blurted that out in a moment of vulnerability, a moment of.. wanting. he can't stay here any longer, he might die. you now fully look at him and furrow your eyebrows, clearly as puzzled as chenle is by the words. "what?" you chuckle lightly, and chenle feels his face burn immediately.

"i'm sorry, i don't even know where that came from i'll g—"

"no no you can.." you pause for a moment, collecting your words. "you can tag along if you want to i just— i don't know, you can leave the castle?"

"well yeah, but that doesn't mean you have to take me with you i don't even know why i asked that in the first place".

"chenle" you say softly, and just you saying his name like that has chenle's knees feeling weak. how did he deny his feelings for you for so long when you have him feeling like this? he's almost positive you can notice how flustered he is now. "if you want to come visit her with me, you can".

chenle stares at you for what seems like years (in his eyes), contemplating whether he should take your offer. your basically holding your hand out to him, begging for him to take it, for him to intertwine his fingers with yours. how could he ever turn down such a proposition?

"i— okay".

"okay? so you'll accompany me?"

"yeah, yes yes! i will" he replies much too enthusiastically for his own liking, you seem to catch on, as you laugh at his sudden shout. if your laugh wasn't so pretty chenle would've immediately turned away and replied with some snappy rebuttal.

"nice" you whisper, finally finishing your packing. chenle watches you intently, he can't exactly speak at the moment. luckily, you speak up once again. "we have to do something, though".

"what?"

you catch chenle's puzzled expression, and you laugh once again. "a disguise, just so you don't cause an uproar while we go visit my mother".

for the first time this whole entire day, chenle lets out a small laugh, amused by the words which escape your lips. "were gonna sneak around?"

you snicker, looking down at the floor. oh you're adorable, chenle shouts it out in his head, he can't tell you face to face so he'll shout it there.

"yeah, guess you could say that".

though he's just the slightest bit skeptical, chenle trusts you, and a smile crosses his face.

CHENLE DIDN'T REALLY THINK HE'D HAVE as much fun as he does sneaking into the village with you. well it's not really sneaking, you live here, you've grown up here, you just had to put him in some totally not suspicious cloak so that he doesn't draw attention when you make it outside of the castle. he almost fell on his face when you dragged him out of the palace gates, because of the way you dragged him, and because you started holding his hand.

chenle feels like a girl obsessing over a boy crush, just you holding his hand is enough to make him begin overthinking the whole thing in his head. according to you, you had to hold his hand to make things seem more natural, but he suspects that you're lying because of how red your face is as you try to avoid eye contact with him.

chenle has only really been to the village a few times in his whole life, though he's had his fair share of experiences here as a child, he never got to stop and observe his surroundings, much too busy trying to settle his anxiety while watching all of the people in the crowd burn holes into his head with their stares.

chenle has always been fascinated by the lives of others, whether it be the stories kun told of the urban legends village kids would spread, or the many times he begged the staff to take him on carriage rides throughout the kingdom as a child. he likes seeing situations through other people's eyes, the life of citizens who don't live as royalty seems like nothing far from the fictional stories he reads in the books in the library.

"you almost pulled off my arm, that was totally suspicious!" chenle whisper-yells, but it's not a shout of seriousness, it's playful, the beginning of a banter.

"oh i'm sorry your highness! do you need medical attention?"

chenle feigns an offensive gasp at the sarcastic comment from you, which results in nothing but a snicker from you as you nudge him with your shoulder. he caresses the back of your hand with his thumb unconsciously, ignoring his clearly heating cheeks as he performs the action.

"do you still live in the same place you grew up?"

"hm? oh yeah, we could never really afford to get another place, it's become a super comforting place for me.."

"ah, i see".

chenle admires your face for much longer than he was supposed to, and if you notice, you don't seem to care enough to comment on it.

chenle allows for his eyes to roam freely around the expanse of a town. it's a pretty place, even with how tiny it seems, he feels much more relaxed here than in the large palace he grew to know as a home, the palace was really in the middle of nowhere, no fellow citizens around for him to make connections with or whatever. this town is the clear definition of community, the kind of place where everyone knows everyone.

"oh y/n! y/n!"

chenle startles from his thoughts when a shout rings in his ears, you snap your head towards the figure, a figure chenle can tell you recognize because you give them a smile, he opts to stay silent in this interaction. "hi tao, how is ying doing?"

the man smiles brightly at you, pulling you into an abrupt hug, making your fingers slip from chenle's. you squeak as he squeezes you in his arm, but you manage a smile, resisting the urge to glare at chenle as he silently snickers at your suffering. "she's recovering well! thank you so much, i don't know how i could ever repay you!"

"there's no need to" you smile softly again, finally able to remove yourself from his crushing grip, you rub your aching arm and awkwardly chuckle. "i just enjoy helping others, i'm glad she's feeling better, tell her i said hi".

"will do! thank you so much!"

the guy gives one last smack on your shoulder before walking off, and chenle has to resist the urge to laugh loudly as you wince from the strong grip who had been squeezing you to death with that hug.

"are you enjoying my misery, your highness?"

chenle can barely contain his laugh as he looks over at you, being met with your deadpanned gaze. he looks down at the floor to stop his giggling, making you frown. "no, it was just too hilarious not to laugh at".

"uh huh, you're sooo funny".

though you were clearly irritated by chenle's laughing fit, you only softly smiled at him trying to hide his laughter. you reach over to take his hand once again, just playfully glaring at him. "yeah continue laughing at my suffering, we still have to make it to my mother's house".

chenle, again, gets jolted forward by a strong tug on his hand, but he doesn't say anything more, just snickers as he sees the pure dedication in your eyes. he smiles as he sees the look in your eye, you're just so adorable.

when you abruptly stop, chenle bumps into you, and your fingers slip from his, an action which makes him frown in just the slightest. he likes holding your hand, he has no idea why, but he does.

you begin digging through your bag for your house key, and chenle simply watches, listening to you hum the tune of a song, one you always hum the tune to whenever you find yourself bored. "here" you whisper, victorious in your search for your keys. you quickly unlock the door and gesture for chenle to follow you in with nothing but the tilt of your head, he silently steps into your childhood home, a comforting feeling in the air as he closes the door behind him.

while you drop your bag onto a nearby table and begin looking through it again, chenle slowly removes the cloak he had been wearing as he observes his surroundings.

the place is nice, small, but nice. it has a comfortable sort of air that makes chenle want to immediately relax, it's not the fanciest place, or the biggest place, but it's a home, a comfortable, quiet home. chenle would love to live here, maybe in another life, a life where he doesn't end up born into a highly respected royal family, he just gets to live like this, it's a place that seems to bring a feeling of solace.

chenle glances over at you, your eyebrows furrowed as you continue going through your bag. you seem to sense his eyes, because you glance up at him and you meet his eyes. you blink, then glance over at a door across the room. "you can go see her if you want".

chenle awkwardly chuckles as he glances at the door your eyes were on, he then glances back at you. "i— can you come with me?"

chenle just wants to stay around you.

you stare puzzled for a moment, but you don't question it, you leave your bag alone and gesture for chenle to follow you to your mother's room. chenle stays silent the whole way there, noticing the way your mood changes as you step closer to the door.

you knock on the door. "mom?"

when you open the door, you peak your head through, a small chuckle escaping your lips as you hear her say something. "yes yes i know, i'll remember to tell her, i brought a guest".

chenle slowly peaks from behind you, giving your mother a small smile. "hello" he greets softly.

your mother gasps, sitting up in her bed. "zhong chenle?"

chenle lightly chuckles, looking down at the floor, you nudge him with your shoulder. "oh my goodness, you've grown so much! come here give me a hug!"

chenle is almost surprised, he was afraid she was going to have a bad reaction to his presence, but she was much more excited to see him than he thought she would be. you push chenle into her room, motioning for him to fulfill your mothers wish.

she quickly wrapped her arms around him when he got close enough to her. her hugs are still as warm as he remembers, he almost wants to hug her forever and never let go. "how are things going these days? i wanted to go to that little parade of yours but y/n forbid me from doing so!"

"because you were vomiting all morning, i wasn't going to risk it".

she pulls away from the hug to grab both of chenle's hand, smiling softly at him. the smile reminiscent of the smiles she would share with him in the hallways of the palace when she used to work there. "you always worry so much" she raises an eyebrow at you before turning back to chenle. "how have you been these days?"

chenle smiles at her, noticing you leave the room, but too focused on answering the question from your mother to follow you. "i've been good, just a little stressed from everything happening lately".

her eyes widen again, and she nods excessively. "right! your getting married soon! how are you feeling about the whole thing?"

chenle's face falls just a little bit, but he quickly reverts back to a smile, not wanting to worry her with a random frown crossing his face. "it's all.. new, it'll take some time to get used to but i know i can get through it".

the older woman smiles at him, seemingly liking those words. "that's good, i'm glad you're still friends with y/n, he missed you".

chenle blinks, the words surprising him. "he missed me?"

your mother chuckles at the question. "yes he did, i remember watching the two of you run around the castle together as children, i was afraid the friendship wouldn't last, when i first resigned, y/n said he feared you two would drift apart".

chenle almost gasps at the information he receives. were you really worried about that? for the longest time he felt like such a bad friend because he began having no time for you as the two of you grew up, yeah that's what happens as people get older but he'd always see the flash of disappointment in your eyes when he had to be dragged away for another stupid royal meeting.

"i didn't know he felt that way, it's getting much more difficult to get him alone with everything going on".

"i heard you two are beginning to talk more, he always comes to me so giddy about it these days".

chenle is again surprised by the information he hears, a small laugh of disbelief escapes his lips at the words. "really?"

"yeah, he came freaking out over you two talking about books, books! you make him so happy, chenle".

the words strike chenle like a slap in the face, it's just so shocking to him he stands with his mouth agape for much longer than he'd like to admit. his face burns at the fact, at the idea that pops into his brain.

the idea that you might feel the same.. that you might reciprocate his feelings.

he swears smoke is going to begin pouring out of his ears from how heated his face has become.

"i'm glad i could do that, y/n is truly a blessing, i don't know what i'd do without him".

chenle thinks those must've been his truest words today, a look into what's really going on in his head, a look into how he really feels.

god it's always with you isn't it?

"it was nice seeing you again, mrs. l/n, i'm glad your recovering well".

at the word 'recovering', the older woman suddenly tenses, an anxious look in her eye as she looks away from the crown prince. "right, yes, thank you for visiting, chenle, it was nice seeing you too".

chenle smiles at your mother, nodding. "i'll leave you be now".

chenle slips his hands from hers, smiling one more time before leaving her room, gently closing the door behind him. he turns around and looks over at you, your still rummaging through your back, but chenle can tell you aren't looking for something, you seem to be trying to distract yourself.

"y/n?" chenle calls out, seemingly against his own will, because he's surprised by the sound of his own voice. you simply hum in response, not wanting to look him in the eye for some unknown reason. he quickly makes his way over to you, standing beside you and accidentally bumping your shoulders.

"is she really sick? i mean she looks fine! much finer than any sick people i've seen—"

"it's her kidneys".

you cut into chenle's sentence with a shaky tone of voice, you look over at chenle, sighing as you see the confusion cross his face. "her kidneys are failing, chenle".

chenle feels his heart drop upon hearing that, and you look away as you see his reaction to the news. "what? but how did that even happen—"

you let out a distressed sigh, gritting your teeth and closing your eyes. "she contracted lupus, right before she took that break back a few years ago, she recovered and we thought everything was fine but then she started vomiting every other day and i couldn't figure out what was wrong so we went to a doctor outside of the kingdom and.."

you look like you're about to cry, and you take in a deep breath to blink away the oncoming tears, but you persist, not wanting to break down in front of the crown prince. "she got diagnosed with chronic kidney disease, by that point she had been suffering from it for a whole five months! and what can i do? it's.."

incurable.

the word simmers into the air, it's unsaid, but both of you know what's truly going on. your both silent, none of you saying a word as silence quickly takes over the room. chenle finally takes the initiative and glances over at you, the tears brimming in your eyes threatening to fall at any moment.

still, you don't allow for yourself to become vulnerable in front of chenle, wiping the tears that haven't fallen from your eyes. "it's a lot to try and digest at once i'm just.. i'm not ready to see her go".

chenle gets it, anyone would get it, he stays silent, afraid of not being able to do the comforting as well as you do. "i'm sorry".

"there's no need to apologize, i mean— this is just how life works!"

"i hate that it works that way" chenle responds, fathers dying eyes flash in his mind, and he bites into his bottom lip so hard that it begins bleeding. god, he hates that memory, father only passed away no less than a year ago, and the image of his lifeless face still haunts chenle in his nightmares.

"yeah, but what can i do?" your clearly trying to be positive, but it's difficult for you to. "i'm just worried that one day i'll come home and she'll be gone.. i already had to go through it with dad and now— i don't know how i'll deal with it".

chenle stares at you, a small smile comes to your face as you glance back at him. chenle wants to cry just seeing you try to hold back your own tears, so he looks away from you quickly.

he then looks back at you, moving closer to you and taking your hand. "if you ever need someone to talk to, to vent to, to— yell and cry at.. i'm here".

you chuckle at the words, tears again welling up in your eyes. chenle feels you squeeze his hand, and he smiles softly at the sight of you. "really? you'll listen to my stupid ramblings?"

"yeah" chenle responds, nodding a little bit too enthusiastically, but he doesn't care. "i will, your feelings are just as important as mine, and you're my friend, it's what friends do".

you squeeze his hand, laughing softly again as you let a small tear slip down your face. "thank you, chenle".

"it's no problem, y/n".

CHENLE IS GENUINELY GOING INSANE, AND ITS ALL because of you. he can't focus on anything but you, and it's literally driving him crazy. he has never, never in his 21 years of living on this earth ever felt so much for just one person, what is it with you? he can't even think about you without his face turning a bright shade of red, his palms easily get sweaty and his words become nothing but a jumbled mess.

chenle finds it hilarious, how he was raised to be poised and proper, never swear, never talk when you don't have to, never interrupt others, sit like this sit like that, speak like this, speak like that, but right now, he's acting like a psycho more than anything.

he's pacing around his room like he just lost his mind or something, completely distracted from everything else as his mind is focused on you and you only.

he must look crazy, hair messy, clothes in disarray, pacing back and forth as he tries to figure out if feeling like this is normal, or even allowed here.

"chenle? could you explain to me why your mother wants— oh dear".

kun walks in midway through chenle's strange breakdown thingy, and the younger isn't even paying attention to him because he's screaming into the pillow on his king sized bed. the older watches in concern, and the breath chenle lets out is a mix of weary and frustrated. "chenle? what's wrong?"

kun drops the clipboard he'd previously been holding to rush over to the younger's side, if he focuses hard enough, he swears he can see tears welling up in chenle's eyes. "chenle.."

chenle sniffles, looking down at the pillow in his lap. "i'm in love with him, kun".

kun blinks, dumbfounded. "with who?"

"with y/n! i can't— oh my god i'm so stupid!" the crown prince grabs his pillow again and lets out a well needed scream of agony, a scream that makes kun sigh as he stares at the sight before him. "i don't get it! why does he make me feel like this!? everything is so complicated and i can't even do anything about it because i get married in two months—!"

"okay okay, calm down" kun is quick to cut in, pressing a quick thumb to his cheek to wipe away the tears. "take a deep breath, talk coherently".

chenle sniffles again, taking in another breath and then exhaling, collecting himself as he tries his best to think coherently. "i don't know, kun, it's all getting to my head, i want him so bad yet i can't have him".

and just the fact makes chenle stomach drop, he wants to start sobbing once again, but he contains his tears. "it's stupid i know—"

"it's not stupid, chenle, it's totally fine to have complicated feelings about things, and people, but you'll never have closure if you don't tell him how you feel".

"but what's the point, kun?" chenle doesn't see why it would matter anyway, what would you even do when he told you how he felt? would you grimace and push him away? would you accept his confession? what would you do? it's all he can think about. "what difference does it make?"

"it gets the pressure off your back.. and, if it's any consolation for you, both you and y/n can finally come to terms with your feelings".

chenle's eyes widen at the words, they settle a new emotion on him he can't exactly explain. "what the hell do you mean by that?"

"language, your highness" kun jokingly reprimands, his tone reminiscent of his mothers scoldings whenever chenle would mess up the garden of roses on occasions. "y/n might've.. told me some things, but you'll have to ask him about that".

"that isn't fair!"

"it is! you have to ask him yourself, it's the only way to get yourself in order!"

chenle deadpans at his older friend, but kun just snickers at his expression, lightly shoving his shoulder. "don't look at me like that, you know i'm right".

chenle would roll his eyes, but kun does have a point. "maybe i'll listen to you.."

"you should".

chenle has to resist the urge to roll his eyes at that response too.

CHENLE THINKS YOU LOOK EXCEPTIONALLY PRETTY when you read. it's not that you're not usually exceptionally pretty, it's just that he enjoys admiring your profile as you read, eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed, lips occasionally parting in shock, he could stare for hours. he might look creepy on a few certain occasions, but you rarely ever notice.

chenle doesn't know how many times the two of you have been up together late in the night, just sitting in the library talking about literature. he doesn't even remember what your talking about most of the time, but he loves talking to you about bullshit pertaining to the books your both into.

for the both of you, books are sort of an escape in a way. chenle enjoys indulging himself in worlds of fiction to distract himself from his mess of a life, and you enjoy indulging yourself in messy love stories with terrible endings to distract yourself from your own issues in life.

it's all truly a coping mechanism for you two.

you both are a coping mechanism for each other, chenle finds it all simpler around you, and you feel as if you don't have to be so professional around him anymore.

chenle doesn't sleep much these days, but that's because he's spending most of his nights in the library with you. he likes listening to you talk, the way you simply piece together your words is amazing.

"and it was so sad! i cried my eyes out for weeks after reading that!"

chenle snickers at your whining, and you caress the material of the book in your hands. "i mean.. the book is literally called, they both die in the end".

"i know! i know! but that doesn't mean it's still not sad" you frown, recalling the ending of the book you were rambling about.

you quickly stop your pouting and make your way over to another part of the library, the section including romance books. chenle doesn't follow you, but his eyes surely do, he makes sure to keep them trained on you, as if you'd disappear if he even looked away from you for just a moment.

"do you want any more recommendations? or..?"

"oh, no no no" chenle shakes his head. "i just—" he pauses, having no idea how to say the words without sounding like some weirdo who totally has a crush on you.

well he is a weirdo who totally has a crush on you, how hypocritical.

"i like listening to you talk".

you blink at his words, noticeably flustered at the way they came out. chenle takes your silence as you judging him, so he's quick to chuckle awkwardly and begin waving dismissing hands. "i didn't mean to say that i know it was weird and stuff—!"

"no no! it wasn't weird i'm just.. i'm not used to being told things like that, you're so unique with your words and i never know how to respond to them".

"oh.."

"yeah".

you click your tongue, and chenle simply stares. oh you affect him so much without doing anything, what is up with you? his ears are burning, he might collapse at the very moment.

what was that kun said again? you'll never get any closure if you don't just tell him how you feel. yeah, he isn't sure if he'll be able to do it.

"can i show you something?"

chenle's breath hitches against his will, he has no idea why he's nervous, why the hell is he nervous? it's just you, it's you, his friend since he was a child, his oldest friend, you probably know him better than he thinks you do.

you wouldn't do anything bad.

"is it terrible?" he raises an eyebrow, and you laugh. your laughter is pretty, so pretty. "well? is it?"

"no, just come here" you beckon chenle over to you with your hand, a hand he almost shies away from, but he can't shy away from you, so he steps closer, following you. he feels like a mind controlled puppet, your a magnet attracting him closer and closer until he presses into you.

you smile as you see chenle in your peripheral vision, your fiddling with something in your fingers. chenle furrows his eyebrows, having no idea what it is, he tries to look over your shoulder, but you quickly block his eyesight, much to his own dismay. "why are you hiding?"

"i'm not hiding! be patient, your highness".

your teasing tone of voice doesn't make it past chenle, but he doesn't stay anything, just keeps his mouth shut. you hum as you turn back to chenle, still fiddling with your fingers as you smile at the crown prince, who is puzzled by what you're doing exactly.

you then open your palm, extending it forward towards chenle, and his eyes widen at what he sees.

"what is..?"

"we— um.. remember that friendship bracelet i made for you when we were ten? the one you broke?"

chenle laughs lightly, his face burning. "yes i remember.."

"well, i kept mine, and because were.. you know, friends again, i remade it for you, if you want it of course!"

chenle stares at you, then he stares at the bracelet in your hand, and he can't resist the urge to smile. you're absolutely adorable, sweet, chenle really really really likes you. his silence makes you anxious, and you want to begin picking your fingers until they bleed.

chenle must realize it, because he immediately laughs, a hearty laugh, a lovely laugh. "y/n, i love it, it's so.. cute i can't— how long did it take you to make this?"

"well i was thinking about it for a while and i just barely finished this last night i just.. i don't know, i missed you, a lot" you say, your words a vomit of adoration, oh you're so adorable. "it was a brash decision really".

"you're so—"—cute—"sweet, really".

you again step closer to chenle, silently asking to have his wrist with the extension of your hand. he doesn't even think before placing his hand into yours, allowing for you to slip the bracelet onto his wrist. it fits perfectly. of course it does, chenle can barely stifle his giggle.

he feels so giddy.

you don't let go of his hand, and chenle doesn't move his hand either. he stares at the indirect act of affection, his hand gently placed upon your palm, a palm that you aren't moving. what are you two doing? what the hell is going on?

"y/n" chenle calls out, his voice barely elevated as he avoids eye contact with you. "what is.. what are we doing?"

"i don't know" you mutter, blinking. you don't even think before taking your free hand and intertwining it with chenle's other free hand, now your holding both of his hands, an action that has chenle's face reddening to amazing heights. "your hands are warm".

chenle simply looks away, basking in the feeling of your fingers laced with his. he likes holding your hand, it just feels right, your fingers intertwined with his, your hands placed on his.

"yours are cold".

the words are nothing but your observations of each other whispered into the air. it's a strangely intimate moment, you two are just staring at each other in the library, your short breaths can be heard in the silence of the huge room around you.

you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, then stare at chenle's. chenle blinks, he sees you, he sees what you're doing, but it doesn't seem like you're trying to be slick, you don't care, you are unashamed in your decision.

he isn't really sure how to feel about that.

you lean closer, much closer than chenle thinks he could ever handle. you give a small smile, and chenle wants to faint. he's holding your hands, your leaning close to him, and you look you want to kiss him.

and he wants to kiss you.

oh he wants to do it so bad.

"may i?" you ask, but you aren't looking chenle in the eyes, your staring directly at his lips. chenle almost chokes on his spit, are you really asking him if you can kiss him? do you really like him as much as he likes you? is he dreaming?

he stares like an idiot for so long that he almost looks frozen.

chenle nods wordlessly, but that's not good enough of an answer for you.

"verbal consent, chenle".

chenle wants to pull you into a kiss by force right now.

"yes! yes, you may".

you note his enthusiasm, enthusiasm that makes his face redden, he looks away from you, clearly embarrassed.

you chuckle silently, letting go of his left hand to take his jaw and turn him back towards you. then, you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips.

it's short, sweet, and ends in pretty much two seconds.

your cheeks are dusted red, and you immediately look away from chenle upon finishing your action. "that was stupid, right? i'm sorry! i don't know why i did that i jus—"

chenle doesn't let you finish, he grabs the back of your neck and smashes your lips together. you let out a small squeak of surprise, clearly not expecting the action, but you quickly relax into the kiss, sighing softly as you let an arm wrap around his waist, pulling him closer with your hand on his back.

it's.. nice, it feels right, chenle is relaxed. his heart isn't pounding uncomfortably, he doesn't feel that anxious pit in his stomach, his chest isn't tight, he feels like he can breath (ironic, really), and he doesn't want to burst into tears at his circumstances.

he feels good, he feels content.

god, it's always with you isn't it?

"wait wait, hold on" you pull away for air, pressing your forehead against chenle's as you gather your words. you chuckle awkwardly, looking down at the floor instead of at the crown prince in front of you. "sorry, i don't know how to feel about this".

chenle blinks up at you, and all you can see are his pretty eyes staring at you. you fumble through your speech, trying your best to be coherent even with the way he was staring. "i'm just.. i don't know, i have to check up on my heart levels and shit—"

chenle gasps loudly. "language, y/nie".

"you can't just say that after you literally took away my breath you.." you stop in your speech, snickering at the way you're acting, the red on your cheeks doesn't disappear, but chenle thinks he likes it that way.

"y/n" you look up as chenle calls your name again, now completely focused on him. "i.. i don't really know how to say this but i— i like you, okay? like a lot, not even just that i'm in love with you! it's.. complicated".

wow, so much for a smooth confession, chenle.

chenle narrows his eyes at the voice in his mind, it sounds like.. you?

you freeze at the confession, your whole body paralyzed as you try your best to process the words in your head.

"oh".

chenle can't tell how you feel by your tone of voice, but to him, it doesn't sound good.

CHENLE USED TO BE AFRAID OF ASKING HIS FATHER certain questions. he was unpredictable in the sense that chenle never knew how he'd react if he asked him a question as simple as what 1+1 was. when father was alive, chenle feared him, not because he was physically violent or anything, but because he was intimidating. the air temperature would lower whenever he stepped into the room, and the way his voice boomed when he talked was enough to have chenle shivering for weeks.

"father, may i ask you a question?"

"is it a stupid question?"

at thirteen years old, chenle was still as fearful of his father as he was back when he was seven, and he almost wanted to cry the moment his father responded to his question with another question. he swallowed his own spit, a feeling of anxiety immediately settling onto him. "well— i'm not sure.."

his fathers shoulders relaxed, and he hummed. "what is it, chenle?"

"why do i have to get married?"

the question was much more abrupt than chenle wanted it to be, and he clamped his mouth shut as soon as the words escaped his lips. his father stayed silent at the question, which didn't lessen his worries, it worried him much more than it should've.

his father then chuckled, he chuckled, and chenle almost let out a gasp upon seeing the sight. when was the last time he'd seen that happen? the sight was truly one to behold, he was amused, amused!!

"why are you so curious about that? you're way too young to be interested in stuff like marriage".

"i'm not that interested i just— i heard mother say something about it and i.. i don't know! i just want an answer".

his father turned back to him, an unintelligible expression on his face that chenle still doesn't understand even to this day. "let me ask you a question, chenle, do you want to get married?"

the question struck chenle as odd, but judging by his father's smile in the moment, the question was very much needed. the thirteen year old prince blinked, puzzled, but he didn't let the question linger in the air for too long, afraid of upsetting his father with his silence.

"maybe, in the future, when the time is right, with someone who i like, and know is a good.. person to me".

"person?"

chenle nodded, wordless as he tried his best not to shrink under his father's gaze.

"ah, i see".

chenle had no idea where he was trying to go with that question and statement.

"what kind of person?"

chenle was once again speechless at the question, he allowed for his eyes to roam around the room as he scoured his brain for an answer to his father's question. then, he spotted his answer, it was you, giggling with kun about a dumb joke as your mother rummaged through her work bag for something.

you caught his eye in the moment, smiling the sight of him as you waved, mouthing a small hi from where you were across the room.

chenle giggled at the sight, waving as well as he returned your greeting.

unfortunately for him, father noticed everything.

"oh? someone like y/n?"

chenle immediately snapped his head towards his father, beginning to sputter at the assertion from him. "y/n? what do you mean by that?"

his father merely glanced over at you, his lips unconsciously quirking up into a smile. "you seem to like y/n, the two of you are friends right?"

"yes, yeah we are".

"huh" his father clicked his tongue. "if you ever do get to decide who you want to marry in the future, let it be someone like him".

chenle choked on his spit, he had no idea how to respond to that. the words have stuck with him forever, even after father's death, even after his marriage to yinuo was confirmed, the words ring in his head whenever chenle does as much as look at you anymore.

it's been a week, a week, a whole entire seven days, and you have been avoiding chenle like the plague. literally. you see him in the halls and make a break for the nearest door, you catch his eyes randomly and you immediately look away. you don't smile, you don't stop to make small talk, you just turn your back and run away.

did he do something wrong? did you really not return his feelings? (no! that can't be true! why would you kiss him back if you didn't feel at least something for him?). chenle has no idea why you're suddenly avoiding him, but you are, and he has to figure out why.

so, when chenle finishes having a totally fun conversation with his mother, he makes a beeline towards your office, he knows your there, because you aren't anywhere else during the day usually. you don't visit your mother on tuesdays, chenle knows that very well.

he stops in front of the door of your office, a sudden anxious feeling taking over him. he raises his fist to knock, but then lets it fall, he instead turns the knob and opens the door to your office.

you don't perk up immediately at the sound of the door opening, mainly because your back is turned and your focused on cleaning up a rubbing alcohol spill. chenle doesn't say anything, the silence in the room practically swallowing him whole.

you still don't look back, simply humming. "did you leave something here, kun? are you going to nag me about cuts again?"

chenle keeps silent.

when you finally do turn back to look at chenle, expecting kun, you pause, an unreadable expression crossing your face. you clear your throat, smiling awkwardly as you tucked your hair behind your ear. "hi, your highness".

chenle's jaw clenches, what's with the sudden switch up? why aren't you calling him by his name anymore?

"hi, y/n".

another uncomfortable silence takes over the room, and chenle wants to die in that very moment. there's no playful banter, there's no snickering, you two aren't talking, this is one of the strangest things to ever happen to the both of you in your whole entire friendship.

you two always talk, even if it's just small talk, this random silence makes chenle anxious.

"did i do something wrong?"

judging by your reaction, that wasn't the question to ask. you simply chuckle, going back over to the spilled rubbing alcohol and finishing up with your business. "no".

"so what happened?"

"nothing happened".

"it doesn't seem that way, you've been avoiding me ever since.." chenle looks down at the floor, picking at his nails as he tries not to stare at you. "you know".

you hum, finally turning back to chenle again with the intention of making eye contact. chenle looks over at you, but not directly in your eyes, just at your face. "we can't, chenle".

"what?"

"we can't be.. we just can't, chenle".

chenle's eyebrows furrow. "you could at least elaborate on that".

"you know what i'm talking about, chenle" you grit your teeth, but you aren't frustrated by chenle, no, you seem frustrated by yourself. "you're getting married soon and i'm.. i'm nothing like you, this isn't right—"

"what makes you think that?" chenle cuts in, what is wrong with you? what the hell is wrong with you? is that really what you think? he's about to kill you. "are you embarrassed?"

"embarrassed? what? no! no! i'm literally the one who offered to kiss you i just.." you cover your face with your hand, letting a distressed groan escape your lips. "i don't want to be the reason everything goes wrong for you".

"is that really how you feel? is that really how you think i feel..?"

"chenle" you begin softly, your tone of voice making chenle's stomach flip. you close your eyes and clasping your own hands together. "i do like you too, i— love you, even, but we just can't be together".

oh. that's what it's about.

chenle sucks in a breath, he wants to shout at you, not because your making him mad, but because your right, and he knows it. he wants— no, he needs to break something, throw something against the wall in frustration, break a glass window. just anything to keep himself from having a full on mental breakdown from your very words.

"of course you would say that".

you scoff at his petty tone, but you sound more disappointed than frustrated. "your acting like i'm doing this on purpose, if things were different then maybe—"

"why can't we make it work now? huh? why does it have to be if things were different?"

"because you're getting married chenle! you— you're going to become king and i don't want to hold this over your head".

"you're so.. stupid! how is that all you've gotten from this situation?" now chenle is getting desperate, he wants you to change your mind, even if he knows it's unlikely that will actually ever happen. "you're not holding anything over my head and you're not going to make anything go wrong, i don't get it!"

"i'm being realistic.."

"how is that realistic?"

"because it's better than potentially losing my job! chenle! i have to take care of my mother, i can't afford to risk my position because someone thinks you're cheating on your fiancée with me".

your words sting, but they don't sting chenle, they sting you. your chest hurts, so you simply shake your head, sighing in defeat. your arms drop to your side and you turn away from chenle, gritting your teeth.

all chenle can do is give you a look of sympathy. "y/n—"

"chenle, leave it alone" you snap, yet you don't come off as annoyed, more upset. "i'd prefer if you'd leave".

you really just need to think, you just need to peacefully gather your thoughts without chenle in the room.

chenle wants to argue with you, to walk forward and take you by your arm, to grab you by your face and kiss you senselessly whilst telling you that he doesn't care about what anyone thinks.

but chenle obeys your wish, turning around and leaving the room.

KUN KNOWS CHENLE ALL TOO WELL AT THIS point that the younger is convinced that he's a mind reader. from his narrowed eyes to his silent snickers, he can always tell what chenle's feeling before chenle himself even does. back when they were younger, chenle assumed kun had to be some sort of supernatural being, possessing some kind of telepathic power or something, but as he's grown up, he realizes the older is just that observent.

case in point: chenle's current attitude.

"why do you keep sulking? they teach you not to do that at like.. age ten?"

kun's comment doesn't receive it's usual rebuttal from chenle, it simply gets silence, silence that kun hums at. he resists the urge to roll his eyes, standing beside the stubborn crown prince. "okay, tell me what happened".

"what?"

"there's no use in pretending that you don't know what i'm talking about, chenle, what happened?"

kun has always been assertive in this sense, chenle finds his power to be absolutely shocking. maybe, in another universe, their roles are reversed, kun would make a better ruler than chenle ever could anyway.

"i'm an idiot, kun".

the statement results in kun letting out a strange sound, a sound of complete confusion. he then raises an eyebrow, one that makes chenle want to dig a hole and die in it forever. "what is that supposed to mean?"

chenle scowls, covering his face with his hands as he resists the urge to claw his own eyes out. he lets out a groan as your face flashes in his mind, oh he is so stupid, why couldn't he just be fearless? why does he have to be such a coward?

why couldn't he be brave for you?

"i— god, i confessed to y/n but i even managed to mess that up and now we're on bad terms.."

kun goes through seven expression changes as he processes the information. "what? what are you saying?"

"he just told me the situation like how it is" he grits his teeth, looking away from the older. "we can't be together no matter how much we want to, i'm getting married and he can't risk losing his job and.. i have to go through with the marriage".

"who says that?"

"my mother, kun" chenle sighs, feeling as if he just got punched in the gut. "i don't want to put too much on her shoulders, a marriage like this has been planned for me for who knows how long and she's clearly not her best considering father didn't pass that long ago and.." a groan leaves his lips, a sour taste in his mouth. "this will make her happy, i just want her to be happy".

kun stares in silence, clicking his tongue. "have you ever tried to prioritize your happiness?"

chenle sighs. "we're not starting this again kun—"

"no, we are going to start this again, you have to think about if you're happy before ever going through with a marriage, marriage is a legally binding thing! you're gonna be in a union with this woman until you die! are you really happy with that?"

chenle opens his mouth to speak again, but it falls shut. he can't really respond to that.

all of his life he grew to believe that he'd eventually get used to arranged marriages and the idea of having to warm up to his partner. all royalty have to do it, it's just apart of the process. heck, chenle is the result of an arranged marriage himself, why would he ever challenge it when it was always the most likely outcome?

it's different because it's you. chenle can't possibly think about going through this marriage at all now that he's realized how he truly feels for you, it's not right, he shouldn't, he can't.

you're a terrible liar, chenle. at the end of the day, you will go through with this marriage, it's all too risky to not.

"i.. no, i'm not" chenle finally responds, his voice a mix of disgusted and frustrated. "i just— i always thought it was supposed to be this way, i don't want to just.. do it differently".

"well why not?"

"because this is for the good of my future, for yinuo, for my mother, to test if i can live up to the ruler my father was".

chenle bites his inner cheek, suddenly feeling nauseous. he closes his eyes, not wanting to face kun's gaze.

the older simply sighs. "i can't make you do anything you don't want to, chenle, but don't make a decision you know is going to leave you unhappy, i'd hate for you to be stuck in an uncomfortable position for the rest of your life".

and with that, kun turns and walks out of the room. chenle doesn't open his eyes until he knows kun has left the room.

the words ring in his head all day.

WHEN CHENLE WAS ELEVEN, YOU TAUGHT HIM about the several constellations that appear in the night sky. you taught him their names, how they form, what they represented, and your thoughts on them. you always had a thing for those luminous balls of gas in the sky, something about them always left you so intrigued, waiting for the next time they would show up so you could drag chenle out in the middle of the night to see them with you.

tonight, andromeda is in the sky.

it's never been a favorite of yours, more one of chenle's favorites, but he knows you'll be outside, staring at the aligned stars in the sky. he takes kun's words into account, and wishes his mother a good night before turning on his heel to make his way towards a familiar place of comfort.

the rose garden, of course.

the best thing about the rose garden is that it has the cool glass roof you can see the sky through. it was an addition that was only made a few years ago, one last hurrah for mrs. qian before her eventual retirement.

chenle spent a lot of time reading about constellations, all the information he learned he would relay to you. he loved seeing how interested you were in the information you already didn't know, your eyes would widen comically and then they would light up.

constellations have always been special to me, you told chenle once. they remind me of dad, he's the one who taught me about them, i like to think that he's now become apart of cygnus.

chenle was surprised by your way of grieving, but he couldn't exactly blame you. you liked to think your father became one with the stars, and you'd always be especially excited when cygnus appeared in the sky.

when chenle steps into the rose garden, he isn't surprised to see you already there, lips parted in surprise as you stare up at the sky through the glass rooftop. you don't notice him immediately, but when you do, you smile. "hi".

chenle bites down on his bottom lip, but he steps forward anyway. "hi".

you put your head down, then turn to chenle with an unreadable expression on your face. "i missed you".

chenle allows for himself to lightly chuckle at the fact. "you're the one whose been ignoring me all this time".

your shoulder slump, a small sigh leaving your lips as you rock back and forth on your heels. "i do realize that was pretty.. rude of me, i just needed time to think, i was probably going to have a breakdown if i didn't collect my thoughts".

chenle nods, pressing his lips together in a thin line. an uncomfortable silence passes through the air in the room, and you glance up again to examine andromeda once again.

"i'm sorry".

you snap your head over at chenle. "for what?"

"for yelling, and for calling you stupid" chenle looks away from you, ashamed of himself. "you were just being realistic and i was.. i wasn't thinking clearly, like an idiot".

"don't say that" your voice is so soft, it probably feels like clouds. "i get where you're coming from, just saying those words made me sick.." you pinch the bridge of her nose, and chenle can't stop his head from turning so that he can stare at you. oh your side profile is so pretty, chenle could admire it for hours. "i'm sorry, chenle, you probably felt like your feelings didn't matter in the moment and that was so terrible of me to do, romantic feelings or not, you're my friend, and i care about how you feel, i shouldn't have dismissed you like that".

chenle can't resist the urge to smile, his lips turn up much too quickly, but of course they do, because it's you, it's always with you. chenle has never felt such a way for another human being in his life, but he guesses your whole relationship must've been planned by the universe or something.

"you're so.. stupid" chenle reiterates, but it's said much more affectionately than the last time. "you have always considered my feelings, you are literally one of the sweetest people i know, don't apologize for thinking about yourself for once, your job is much more important than our.. relationship thing".

you pause at the words, shaking your head as a small snicker falls from your lips. "i love you, chenle".

oh.

if chenle didn't have any self control, he would've done a trust fall right then and there. he wants to faint onto the floor and never get up. hearing the words from you makes him exceptionally giddy, you make him happy, you make him so happy, oh chenle is so glad to have you in his life.

happy ending or not, at least he finally knows what you feel for him.

"i love you too" he whispers, his voice getting stuck in his throat, the shock doesn't wear off that quickly, unfortunately. you reach over for his hands, intertwining your fingers with his. it feels so right, chenle could just be like this forever, and everything would be fine.

as long as he's with you, everything will be fine.

you hum at the response, a red color dusting your cheeks. you could just barely stifle your giggle, and it's simply amazing to chenle. you're just as giddy about him as he is about you.

oh chenle loves you so much.

you look up at the sky once again, eyes lighting up at the sight of the aligned stars. "andromeda has always been your favorite, right?"

chenle wants to faint, you remembered. "yeah".

you smile, your smile is beautiful.

you're a desperate man, zhong chenle.

he can't exactly disagree with that.

"you have good taste".

"you flatter me too much".

you finally looks back down, snickering as you squeeze chenle's hands. you lean forward and press a kiss to chenle's lips, it's simply a peck, but chenle loves it. "you deserve it".

chenle wants to squeal like a teenage girl with a crush, you're so cute, you're so adorable, he loves you, he loves you so much.

maybe you can't make it work now, not in this universe at least, but there could be another universe, another timeline where it does work, where it doesn't have to end like this.

chenle is upset it can't be this universe, but this is just how life works. knowing that he can't change his fate, knowing that he will go through with this marriage, knowing that he probably has no true shot with you is all upsetting, but he'll learn how to deal with it, at least you're still by his side.

at least your still in his life, he's grateful for that.

and when he sees you giggle once again, his heart warms. as long as you're happy, that's all that matters.

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