#but in the end enjoy it however you want to

[sjyuns]

DELICATE ┆ A SIM JAEYUN ONESHOT

SYNOPSIS! desire and temptation are human’s worst enemies, being told not to do something only make us want it more. when you’re labelled as ‘forbidden’ to jake sim, it does nothing but make you even more desirable.

GENRE! playboy! jake x fem reader, forbidden romance, secret relationship, mutual pining, rich kids in love, family rivalry, fluff, angst, smut

CAUTION! MDNI! unprotected sex, slight body worshipping, pussy eating, munch!jake, creampie, mild overstimulation, petnames (angel, good girl, baby), slight dacryphillia(?), stomach bulging, handjob, swearing, drinking

WORDCOUNT! 8OOO+

MIKAELA’S! sim jaeyun is the death of me. finally finishing the series off after two years… not my best but hope you enjoy! also i lost the starboys taglist i'm so sorry feedback and reblogs are appreciated! NOT PROOFREAD

TEASER SERIES MASTERLIST

MY DELICATE ANGEL, THE MOST DELECTABLE SIN

THE TRADGEDY OF ROMEO AND JULIET, a tale of forbidden romance weaved into our souls — a wondrous vision: burning hearts, smoking love, shimmering eyes and a snap to undo it all. Simply put, love leads us into our ultimate demise. This story warns us that all violent delights have violent ends, and in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which as they kiss, consume.

Some people say, however, that this is more than a tale of forbidden romance but one of star crossed lovers tied with a red string of fate, an inescapable end to love, that love never leaves you. And they like to think that in a different life, perhaps, things would’ve been different. Perhaps things would’ve been sweeter.

How true these speculations are, we’d never know. But somewhere within the lines of red fate, history has a tendency to repeat itself with a sparkling twist. 

A clash between the wealthy and powerful.

A love forbidden by the gods.

You twist like a sunflower at the sound of Jake Sim’s voice. It’s across the hall, getting closer, and closer, and you find your eyes wander to him — his figure. You feel being born into wealth certainly has its downfalls, but one thing you’d always be grateful for would be the chance to admire beauty. And you think the boy you were looking at was, quite possibly, the sole creator of it.

Your gaze flickered over the slim, straight nose and defined cupid’s bow, quickly passing dark eyebrows and equally dark eyes, pretty lashes curving upwards like dustings of coal: pretty, pretty, so pretty. He looks like glorified sin, and distantly, you wonder if his cheeks feel like the shades of vibrant rose they appear to be. 

You wonder if Jake Sim loves, if he’s even capable of loving.

Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, Jake Sim’s reputation precedes him. Prudence lining his every move as he exudes confidence, a devil’s incarnate, the epitome of lust and vengeance. A polite exterior with dark, dark motives and as cliche as it sounded, everyone wanted to either be him or be with him. Yet despite everything, Jake has never entertained anyone, the perfect gentleman with a seemingly clean track record despite the number of girls hanging off his arms daily. And you wonder, what it feels like to be them, to be close to Jake Sim, to touch him, to feel him, to see him close. 

“Hey, you,” a shrill sound breaks you out of your trance as your neck snaps towards the owner of the voice. A painfully polite smile plastered on your face out of habit as your eyes scan her — dress shirt two sizes too small, blazer cropped and skirt hemmed as if she was in line at a brothel, and you think to yourself how your mother would have a fit if you wore your school uniform this unpresentable.

“Yes,” you answer, tone clipped, “how may I help you.” Your reply apparently brings distaste to her tongue as she scowls at you in sheer disgust, and you wonder if anyone has bothered to put this girl in her place today.

“Stay away from Jake Sim,” she almost screams, and you almost throw your head back in laughter at the crazy, crazy words that had just left her mouth. 

It wasn’t a secret that your family and the Sims had a rivalry: old money dating centuries back with major influences on global technology advancements and developments. Yet, ironically, a childish rivalry between the two houses, always trying to prove that they were the best.

“I know you and Jake talk behind your parents’ back,” she pinpoints, a victorious smirk on her face as if she had just uncovered your deepest, darkest secret.

“What?” Your words slip out in disbelief, and you hold back an impolite scoff at the weight of her accusation. Stay calm, you remind yourself, lashing out on her would give her something to talk about.

But before you can regather your thoughts, a heavy arm slides across your shoulder, pulling you into him. And you don’t have to look up to know that Jake was right beside you, holding you. 

“Baby,” the devilish boy says, turning around to give a soft smile at you. “Baby, I thought I told you that we didn’t have to hide it anymore,” he repeats with a laugh, but you’re too starstruck to reply. “Remember last night?”

You don’t remember last night because it never happened, all your boldness turning soft in the presence of Jake Sim, and you wish you could turn invisible on the spot.

“Right,” the sound you release resembles more of a choke than a hum, ripping your stare from Jake to the unnamed girl in front of you, “yeah, I remember last night.”

A look of disbelief showcased on her face and she stared at Jake as if she had just been backstabbed by him. And you almost feel so bad, nauseated at the character you seemed to be under the influence of Jake. You try to tug your body away from him, yet his grip remains tight.

“I’ve always liked her,” he tells, thumb sweeping across the top of your hand, “she’s perfect.”

You must be touch starved because you shiver involuntarily. How would it feel loving someone like Jake Sim? Loving someone who looked like sinful tragedy and unspoken thoughts tinged with violet? How would it feel?

A frustrated groan followed with the stomping of mary janes is enough to leave you breathless, gasping for air at the situation you were just in. And you immediately pull away from Jake’s embrace, looking at him in complete horror.

Jake’s face remains impassive, almost as if he was born to do this, born to lie. 

“What in the world were you thinking?” you ask morbidly. 

“What do you think I'm thinking?” he drawls. And you feel like you’re about to slip into the underworld with your rosy cheeks and escalating heartbeat.

“You know if she tells other people our parents would kill us right?” you add, teeth gnawing at your lips in nervousness.

Jake shrugs with nonchalance, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ears, slim fingers feeling like a piano’s melody in spring gardens. “She won’t, don’t worry angel.”

You ignore how his voice brought reassurance to your heart. “Why,” you continued, “why did you do it?”

Jake hums at your question, and it’s the very same question he’s asking himself. His actions had just made it too risky, too complicated, but maybe that’s exactly why his body moved over to you, because he wanted to be entangled with you.

Jake Sim has never asked for many things. He could probably keep track of all his wishes on one hand: a matte black Porsche 911 Carrera Cabriolet (to match Sunghoon’s white one), a pool party when he was nine (because Sunghoon had one), and you (his parents scolded him for hours).

He always had a fascination with you, ever since preschool when you were dropped off by your chauffeur, hair in neat pigtails, uniform ironed crisp, and a toothy smile at him when you took your first step in. And he wishes he could return to that moment, no rules, no tension, no hatred between families, because he can only help himself for so long. And Jake remembers how he ran back home after his first day, almost tripping at the giddy thoughts of you and your beauty as he wrote your name with his in his secret diary over and over as a wish to the Gods that maybe, maybe they could bring you to him.

But now, now his infatuation for you has grown beyond — he desired you, burned for you, spent sleepless nights wanting you. Even when he hated you: hated you for smiling at others and not him, he lusted for you, and it was the most maddening, beguiling, damnable thing he’s ever experienced yet he never wanted it to stop.

“Do I need a reason to do things?” You close your eyes for a moment, feeling your soul protest as if it was in agony.

“Yes Jake, maybe you do when our families are at crossfire.” Your tone reeks of desperation for a simple answer, an answer you know Jake Sim was never going to give. 

“But we aren’t at crossfires, are we angel?” His accented voice floats into your ears, leaving you stumped at his targeted question. No, you weren’t. In fact, you could barely pinpoint a flaw on Jake’s body, and you wonder if your previous callousness was unnecessary.

“No, I guess not,” you reply, unsure on what to make of it. And you feel some sort of heavy weight lift off your shoulders as you glance at the boy who was leaning on your locker, biting your lips as you take in his lean frame: long legs, slim muscles cording over the structure of his upper body, and fluffy, messy midnight hair. He’s beautiful.

Your heart skips a beat but you blame it on your newfound revelation and your tendency to fall head over heels for everything with beauty.

“Well then, I’m Jake Sim,” the boy sticks out his hand, all slow fire and molten lava as he introduces himself, “you’re just as pretty up close as you are from afar.”

You blink, absently reaching for his hand, trying not to notice how nice your palms slide together. You repeat your name in return, ignoring the hot flush rising in your face from the compliment. “Afar?”

Jake’s rosy mouth curves into a smooth smile. “I observe,” he shrugs, as if that was all the explanation needed. “You’re all everybody talks about around here, you know.”

Pride hits you then because this is the very first time you’ve heard about Jake complimenting anyone, moreso with a sparkle in his eyes. “Really,” you laugh gently, heart still hurting from immense palpitations.

“Yeah,” Jake tilts his head slightly, looking like devilish temptation and smelling of smoked cedar and rosemary. “Pretty faces do lots of damage here.”

The smile that adorns Jake’s face is genuine, as his eyes sparkle at the sight of you right in front of him. And he thinks he’s so selfish to paint himself as a hero when all he wanted to do was feel you for a second, a lingering touch that would put him to sleep tonight. 

“Are you scared?” The question leaves his mouth before he can stop it.

“I don’t know,” you admit, looking away for the first time. And Jake feels his heart squeeze at your voice, “I’ve never done something like this before, you know, do something that would upset my parents.”

Jake is surprised by your honesty, and perhaps you’re way more than he’s thought you out to be. “You’ll be fine,” he tells you, offering you a silver smile when your lips part slightly, bottom lip unbelievably glossy, “you have me by your side now.”

Jake Sim isn’t an angel, in fact he’s much closer to being the devil — that much is true. But when he sees you walking into the big doors of the glamourfied ballroom, he feels like there’s a halo glowing above his head, the light of pearls and moonlight reflecting off of him, and you’re the God he worships. It gets a little hard to breathe: maybe he’ll blame it on the change in seasons, but it’s the middle of winter in Seoul, and you look like a blend of delicate snowflakes and melted rainbows. He wonders if his eyes are filled with pure want, with desire and something soft like adoration.

And he means that quite literally, Jake realizes as he takes in your figure — delicate silk draped over your body, features glistening from the vermillion light of the ballroom’s chandelier and you look like yūgen fantasies laced in velour reverie. And Jake doesn’t know if he’s ever seen someone as beautiful. If he’s ever seen someone who looks like love.

His fingers shake. His pulse quickens. And he wonders what it would feel like to hold your hand and never let go.

A call of your name by your parents causes you to turn around, eyes meeting his for a split second before you stop to give him a sweet smile, and he feels as if your souls just connected. And it’s a whole new thrill to know that no one catches the looks you give each other, like it's your own little secret, a semblance of normal in the crazy lifestyles lived. God, he thinks, your eyes are gorgeous and there are times when he wants nothing more than to look you in the eyes.

Your family walks closer to his, and he can’t help but feel the need to smoothen out the creases on his suit jacket, palms sweaty and heart wild as if he was meeting the people around you for the very first time.

“Sim,” your father grunts at his father, a firm handshake given followed by hidden scowls of distaste. A superficial greeting for show, to give the media what they want, and Jake wishes the time would come when this would turn real: so that he would be able to hold you without causing you any worry.

The vintage Prada suit Jake donned made him look like a corrupt angel — almost preternaturally handsome but with a louche quality that hinted at unspoken depravity. He was an unforgettable, if unnerving, face that lent itself to being cast as the devil itself. And his lips, his lips were stained with wine, scarlet madness. And you wanted to kiss him, and take the taste as yours.

“Y/n,” he acknowledges, hand extended for a handshake which you return. Eyes locked as the sound of your parents conversing vanishes, like it’s just you and him in an empty ballroom all to yourself.

“Would you allow me one dance?” He cocks his head in all his glory, and you chuckle under your breath. He wasn’t yours nor were you his, yet he was so good at making you feel like you belonged with each other.

You want to sin every time you’re with him.

You let him whisk you away, parents long forgotten as his fingers wrap gently on the curvature of your waist and it fits like two pieces of a puzzle, all warm and slow and full of interwoven history. When Jake’s eyes flutter close, he remembers how easy it is to lose and find himself in the molten lava of your irises, or the way your cupid bow dips just slightly in the center of your lips. It’s all a combustion of violet and tenderness and something so quiet that he has to focus in order to listen. And it’s all butterfly touches here and there — nothing too strong, nothing too heavy.

You are, simply said, worth dying for.

“Hey,” Jake mutters, running a hand through your hair and thumbing the skin just below your cheekbones. “You look good today, angel.”

“Are you trying to seduce me?” 

“But it’s true,” he hums, shifting his weight from one foot to another as the both of you grace across the dance floor. “And I’m pretty sure you know that yourself too.”

“Lair,” Jake flicks your forehead, “you’re just trying to play nice with me.”

“Maybe I am,” he tells you, a mischievous smile on his lips. “Or maybe I’m just waiting for you to compliment me back.”

Your face feels too hot. “Stop being a flirt.”

When you smile, it’s like the world tilts on its axis and rights itself all over again, gravity evaporating like blue sea salt. “Do you really want me to stop?”

No, you think. And so you say, “No, Is my face really that perfect?”

“The most perfect in the world,” Jake responds, a shining gleam glistening within his irises. “You look tired, angel,” he says, frowning as he catches the outlines of dark circles underneath your eyes. 

It’s times like these where you want to pull him closer, want to kiss him and finally find out if his lips taste as good as they look. Because you’re so lost in the push and pull of this relationship – or lack thereof – and the absence of a label. Forbidden love, you think bitterly, still enraptured by Jake’s warmth radiating from him. You look up at him with doe eyes, a foreign emotion swimming across your gaze as Jake’s sight zeros in on your glossy mouth.

“I am tired,” you admit. Tired of loving you; tired of caring; tired of wanting things you can never have. “I can’t believe I’m here instead of wrapped around my duvet at home.”

Jake’s hands curl over your waist and rest there, the heat of his palm seeping through the thin fabric of your dress. “Wouldn’t you be missing me?”

“No,” your cheeks flush and Jake’s mouth curls a little bit to the side in a dark smile, lips feeling too hot for comfort.

“You know you would,” he says, carding his fingers through your hair, long fingers pretty like a pianist’s and faint cologne dusting across the span of his throat. “Let’s see each other tonight. You and me.”

You sigh, leaning ever so slightly into his touch as if it was where you belonged.  

And Jake watches you, wondering how you began to familiarize with each other. Life before you was an absolute disaster, and Jake remembers going through packs of cigarettes like candy to relieve the stress. 

As Jake sat himself at the bar of Sunghoon’s house, his eyes caught on neon lights, sprinklings of gold dust, and exposed limbs. His best friend’s house is a combination of soft and deadly, bar secluded underneath soft studio lights and living room dimmed with LED lights, and just from where he was seated, Jake makes out the swift movement of your hips as you laugh and pull someone closer.

The asshole you’re dancing with places his hands on your waist, pathetically attempting to seduce you as the sparkle in your eyes grows with each second under the influence of alcohol, cheekbones glowing underneath the flashing of lights. In the back of his mind, Jake thinks that you move like mercury, all silber and liquid; he thinks that you look perfect with your hair styled and gleaming smile.

His heart hurts.

When Ning Ning taps on his shoulder, Jake jolts and soothes his expression to one of passiveness. “She’s already fended off three guys,” she tells him, and the blood inside his body boils. “Go save her, please.” 

He gets off his seat and downs his drink in one go as your laugh reaches his ears, and it’s just high in pitch that Jake’s radar automatically activates. He maneuvers his way through the crowds of people and wonders what spell you’ve cast on him to make him feel this weak.

“Angel,” he breathes, quietly — almost menacingly — as he looks at you whose head is tipped back. “Angel, get away from him.”

The other guy places his hands above your hip bone, touch slyly moving lower and lower; your eyes widen with realisation and as soon as you push him off, he tries to grab you again with no such luck. And Jake instinctively pulls you closer, rolling his eyes as he silently soaks in the sweet smell of honey and milk and ichor.

“I–really?” you ask, mouth dropping.

“You don’t know how to tell?” Jake reprimands coldly.

“I thought we were only dancing. I’m sorry, Jake, are you mad? Don’t be upset.” He sighs, and tenses his jaw as his palm settles in the pinched curve of your side, feeling the build of your waist and torso. “That wasn’t dancing, smartass.”

“Not that you would know.”

Jake doesn’t really know what he’s doing or what he’s trying to do, but he pulls you to his front so quickly that both of you don’t have a chance to catch your breaths. Your souls feel entwined like blooming olive tree branches, like how the tides meet the sand and he can’t tell which is which. There's this tugging sensation at the bottom of his stomach, this feeling that Jake can’t define, which drives him up the wall. It’s like he’s always missing you even when you’re touching each other, silently dancing over the drawn lines that he desperately wants to demolish.

He brings his lips to your ear, lingering there for a moment longer before speaking. “This is dancing,” he tells you, fingertips trailing across skin and hipbones as your bodies come together. He’s taller than you, which feels perfect as you gasp softly, resting your head against his shoulder, forehead impossibly heated. The two of you sway to deep, sensual music and if you move like water, perhaps Jake moves like the wind, all fluid gestures and so interdependent.

You open your eyes, lashes fluttering against delicate skin, and holy shit, Jake’s starting to think he has a thing for the wet sheen in your eyes and how it matches your lips. “Got it,” you smile, tone trailing off to something wistful as you lift a hand and tap Jake’s nose with your thumb. “I like you like this.”

“Like what?” Jake decides to play along.

You trail your thumb down his face, the line of touch feeling like witchcraft. “I don’t know,” you murmur, usually bright face now serious. “You tell me, Jakey.”

And—oh. When you call him that, Jake doesn’t know what to do, think, or say. How does he explain that whenever his name slips out of your mouth, it sounds like the bible verses in the Song of Solomon? That it sounds like destiny and paradise and pain combined in two syllables.

Jake Sim has never been good with words — but not once in his years of living has he wanted to say more. But instead, he shrugs and looks down on you, at your black dress and pretty heels. “I—”

“Jake! Come here!” Sunghoon’s loud voice cuts the tension between the both of you, “stop being your girlfriend’s guard dog.”

You giggle and Jake sighs. “Yeah,” he responds, before turning back to you, “I’ll take you home later, yeah?”

“I’ll be fine,” you tell him, though your head feels slightly dizzy, “no need to get overprotective Jakey.”

Jake thinks he’s not overprotective. He’s not. And you're not his girlfriend. Yet.

It’s not a shock when Jake climbs through your open window. You watch as he enters, long limbs squeezing into the small open frame, hair a luster under the dull moonlight. Even like this, Jake Sim is still beautiful, and you imagine that he holds the stars and the comets in his hands.

“You know you were a terrible actor,” you tell Jake, face extraordinarily soft and lips shimmering with a bit of crystallized sugar. Jake’s mouth parts slightly before closing again; and he always looks so unattainable, so free — and you want to catch him before he flies away. 

“What do you mean, angel,” he almost whines at your disapproval, “It was an Oscar deserving performance.”

“You asked me for a dance in front of my parents,” you point out, “you’re lucky they were too caught up in arguing with yours.”

“It wasn’t luck, it was a calculated move,” he grins as he moves from the open window to your side, hands sliding on top of yours.

The feeling starts at your fingertips, warm, mellow, slow, and travels up your arm and across your stomach. And from there, it disperses all over your body, the electrifying warmth that reminds you at the back of your head that this would never work, that it was only so long until you would get caught.

And you don’t know if you should risk it. Or at least that’s what you tell yourself late at night.

“And I wasn’t acting,” he trembles as you run a finger down the length of his chest, black fringe covering his eyes in messy waves. And Jake isn’t sure if it’s your touch that’s clouding his judgement, or if it’s something else — something dangerous. “You looked so pretty,” he murmurs, words slurring, “so sweet, so tempting.”

“Jake,” you almost whine at the sound of his soft voice, like a devil leading you down a path to damnation. 

“You’re so pretty, so so pretty,” he mumbles, hands smoothing over your body, fingers running over your perked nipples, “and you’re so good to me.”

And then you kiss him. Arms sliding around his neck and lips pressed against his, turning your head just a little as you scoot your hips onto him. The smell of his cologne mixed with the lavender of your bedroom like he was truly entwined with you now. 

Jake freezes for a second, unmoving. Then, as if struck by lightning, he inhales, hands tightening around your body; and Jake thinks that you look so pretty caged underneath his grip, and then he stops.

Jake forces his body to pull away, yet you won’t let him. “Angel, I can’t,” he whispers, “I can’t do this to you.”

You look hurt, and Jake aches. “Why not?”

“Because you’re perfect.”

“And you’re not?”

You grimace, reaching a hand out to cup Jake’s cheek, body heat penetrating through layers of unsaid thoughts and unspoken truths. Your heart hurts.

Jake squeezes his eyes shut, and tries not to lose himself in how his body melts into your touch. “I mean that we can’t do this,” he tells you. “We can’t start something and not finish it, because I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle having you slip away.”

It’s probably the most vulnerable Jake has ever been to you and he feels as if his chest splits open under several harsh gazes. His breathing speeds up slowly, insanity transforming to lovesickness within his veins.

“Jakey,” you say, “I’m feeling this because of you. Every sinful touch, every unknown action, it’s all because of you. I want you, Jake, I need you.”

The words swirl through Jake’s mind as if matted with silver and gold, “tell me this is real,” Jake pleads.

“It’s real, I mean fuck this, I—”

Jake lowers his mouth back onto yours and — god, it feels so good to finally taste you, to finally satiate the hunger that’s been gnawing at his mind. And he’s grappling with his self control, until he sees you blink at him from under your lashes, eyes heavy lidded and glazed with hunger; and then Jake can’t breathe.

He presses a kiss beneath your ribs and continues lower, humming against your hip bone, parting your legs so that he could nuzzle against the soft skin of your thighs before he maneuvers you onto your bed, letting down your body gently before pushing your silk dress over your chest in one motion, the cool air from your open window immediately bringing a tingling sensation over your already sensitive body.

Jake’s hands move to grope your breasts with need, fingers flicking over your nipples as he relishes in every gasp that leaves your mouth.

“You want more, baby?” And you don’t know if it’s his alluring voice or the idea that you were sinning in the very household of your parents that made you jut your hips up in need, your voice whispering a soft chain of ‘please, yes’ as Jake’s calloused fingers rub circles on it.

His head dips down to your chest, tongue sensually circling your tits before taking one into his mouth, sucking on it as you arch into the slick, warm feeling of his mouth; fingers moving to tangle into the raven mop of hair — more, more, more. You were getting drunk on Jake and he had done nothing more than just touch you.

“Jakey,” you whine and Jake hums into your skin, the rumble of his voice against your nipple making you shiver in delight. “I need more, more.”

“You’re so cute like this, angel,” he groans, “let me make you feel so good, you deserve that, right?” His fingers trail down your bare body, and a single touch is all it takes for your body to arch into him.

You nod fiercely, and he chuckles, fingers skillfully hooking over the band of your panties before sliding them down your legs. And Jake doesn’t take more than a second to bury his head in between your thighs, flicking his tongue between the puffy folds of your clit, pushing his nose into your pussy as your slick coats the front of his face.

His movements are sloppy, slow, desperate, and everything good and it seemed as if everything about you has made a slave of Jake Sim — hands that kiss hymns up your inner thighs and a tongue that confesses how long he’s looked for a place to worship.

“Oh my god,” you moan, hands gripping the cover of your sheets as your hips instinctively jut in pure heat, head cloudy and heavy as you trail off, “my god, Jake, my god.”

Jake pulls back at the call of his name, swollen lips coated in you as his tongue darts out to lick every single drop. Worship me, he prays, I need every part of you to be mine. He watches as your hips thrust up into the air at the lack of his touch, your hole convulsing in sheer need for him — only him, and he feels victorious as he moves back in, tongue thrusting in and out of you as he laps your leaking arousal up.

“Baby, you taste like sin,” he groans as he feels his cock harden against his pants at the sound of you coming undone under him, “so fucking good for me.”

His breath is hot against your skin, and your eyes water slightly from the immense pleasure, “Jake, I’m coming,” you moan, voice filled with lust as sweet white juices spill over onto his lips and chin.

Jake feels himself come undone just at the taste of you, he swallows every bit of you, and he wishes he could have you melt into him and flow through his veins. “Shit,” he moans, tilting his head back as he breathes heavily, instinctively moving over to grind his clothed bulge against your wet core.

“Let me put it in baby, please,” his desperation prevalent as you whine in response, legs wrapping around his now bare torso as you follow suit — body bucking up in need of him.

Jake doesn’t wait for a response before he unbuckles his belt and pulls his big shaft out, mind hazy as he lines his tip at the entrance of your core, and he feels it pulsating, almost as if it was welcoming him in and he shivers in delight.

“Jakey,” you whimper, mouth wide open at the feeling of his cock entering you, filling you up in one swift motion. Your eyes roll back as you let out a long string of babble, head filled with nothing but the thought of the boy in front of you. 

“Feel good, baby?” he cooes, “you like how I fill you up?”

You hum as he thrusts into you rhythmically, each action stretching you out as your head sinks into the pillows above you, senses overloaded as your body jolts at each push.

Jake moans as he feels your pussy suck him in, and he thinks he’s obsessed with this feeling, almost intoxicated, “taking me so well hmm, such a good girl.”

You feel your body weaken at his praise, electricity flowing through your veins as you come undone for the second time under the power if Jake Sim, and Jake watches as your cum coats his long shaft so prettily, rings of white producing lewd squelching sounds as he continued to pound into you.

More, more, more. He’s fully drunk on you now as he lets out low, guttural grunts, hands moving to your waist with a tight grip as he moves your body into his with fervor. And shit, Jake thinks, you look as pretty as sin under him: hair messy, drool dripping down your chin as your eyes water like crystal gin.

He feels your body fall limp as he comes, seed spilling into your walls as you feel something hot and sticky fill you up. Jake, contrary to what you thought he would do, doesn’t pull out. Instead, he thrusts deeper into you, teeth biting his lips as he watches your stomach bulge at the size of his cock.

“So, so good for me baby,” he groans, and he thinks he could cum again just from the sight of you being full of him, “like you’re fucking made for me.” Jake’s palm moves towards your bulging stomach, fingers dancing across the outline of his dick in you and your eyes roll back in intense perverseness — you think you’ll remember this moment forever, like it’s your mirror, or a prayer that needs to be said every night.

You whimper, body already stretched way beyond your limits but craving more. Jake leans over to press a chaste kiss on your lips, and you find yourself chasing him needily.

“Close already?” he teases, fingers pinching your clit, and you nearly sob from the overstimulating feeling. “Don’t hold back for me, angel.” His lips brushing the surface of your earlobe.

It’s so hot, and you can’t help but want more as you slowly roll your hips in eager motion to satisfy your need. Your body trembles as you come yet again, and this time Jake pulls out, cock still throbbing against your thigh heavy and slick with cum, raging tip begging for your attention.

You move to it instinctively, his cock pressing against your palm as you wrap your fingers around it, warm and sticky as you stroke slowly.

“Fuck,” Jake breathes, his head tipped back as his hands cover yours, guiding you on your pace. Jake’s breathing stutters as his hips jerk into your grip in pure need. Without a word, Jake leans in, catching the trail of your drool with his lips before brushing his tongue on yours in a hurry.

Your hips rock into the sheets of your bed, chasing a new high as pleasure coiled inside of you and Jake hisses as you squeeze him, and it doesn’t take long for hot, thick strands of cum to spill onto you, painting your skin.

Jake looks ethereal under the dim lighting of your bedroom, eruptive and vulgar and so tempting with his body gleaming with sweat, his lean muscles outlined as you reach out to him. 

“Jake,” you whisper, breath heavy and muscles trembling

“My angel,” he answers, looking at you with a glimmer of adoration in his eyes, “my perfect angel.” Your hands moving to toy with the necklace dangling from his neck.

“Will you be by my side forever?” you mutter.

Jake feels breathless and he doesn’t know what to say, “I’ll never leave your side, baby” he breathes and he knows that only this much is true.

Jake calls you angel because you're his idea of an angel — something almost so sacrilegious he’d sacrifice himself for. 

And it doesn’t matter what time of day he sees you, because you’re glowing no matter what — irises like honey almost melting into the rays of incoming sunlight filtering through the blinds of the classroom.

“Jakey, what time is it?” 

Jake takes in your being, and even up close you look warm, hair falling all over the place and study glasses askew where they rested on the bridge of your nose. On days like this, it’s hard to forget how much he likes you, loves you — someone so beautiful. Your beauty, in his opinion, starts from your smile: curved, violently soft, pink. It spreads out like a sunflower from there, curling around your back and legs to illuminate faux halo and velvet wings, ethereal in all your days.

Sometimes, Jake finds it hard to breathe.

“Three thirty,” he answers, and there’s an amber-coloured silence lingering between the both of you. “Are you busy today? I miss you.”

“I’m right in front of you, Jake.”

Right, you were, but it’s not the same. And Jake thinks that some people are just inexplicably bonded — like you and him, drawn by forces beyond his own comprehension that he has no choice but to gravitate towards you.

Sunghoon had once said some sappy shit about being absolutely infatuated with a single soul when he went abroad, and Jake had always thought that it was nonsense, impossible for one person to feel so deeply for another. But with you, Jake understands what it’s like: what it’s like to do anything for you and not think twice about it.

“Yeah you are,” he grins, leaning over to kiss you with all the power he could muster, like a lost lover making up for all the years, months, weeks, days, minutes, seconds your lips hadn’t been touching his.

Now, Jake refuses to imagine what his life would be without you. Because unlike what he seems to be, you have forged your existence deep within his soul. You aren’t just a part of his life, you are his life. And breathing without being able to touch you holds zero importance.

You rested your head against Jake’s shoulder, and felt for the first time, what you would often feel with him: a self affection. He made you like yourself. With him, you were at ease and it seemed so natural to talk to him about odd things. And you’ve never done that before, always having to keep an uptight exterior. The trust, so sudden yet so complete, and the intimacy, once frightened you but now you could only think about all the things you wanted to tell him, wanted to do with him.

“You know, ” Jake starts, “I’ve liked you since we were kids.” 

You raise your head to look at him in shock while Jake traces tiny circles on the lines of your palms, looking all so serious. “Really?” your words feel breathless.

The empty lecture theatre is silent without the sound of your voices to fill it up. And Jake doesn’t look up at you, “yeah,” he mumbles in a slight daze, “since the first day of school when you walked in with the sweetest smile I’d ever seen in my five years of living.”

You giggle, head rolling against his shoulder in amusement. And you never expected anything less from Jake Sim, always a dream, a fairy prince, the sweetest boy in your eyes.

“That’s cute,” you answer, fingers wrapping his, “why didn’t you talk to me then, you were so distant and quiet.”

“Only around you,” he whispers, it's soft but you catch it under his breath, “you made me speechless then just as you do now.” Jake squeezes your hand, and then he feels an air of uncertainty surround him and he isn’t sure if what he’s about to do is the best move.

Luck was all it took for the two of you to continue this relationship, but with every kiss you pucker on his lips, Jake wonders if he should really rely on luck any longer. Because being careful with you hurts, seeing you across the room at charity dinners and not being able to touch you hurts. And for once in his life he doesn’t want to hold back, he wants to tell you every second that he misses you, that he stayed up late cause he couldn't stop thinking about you, about the two of you. Tell you about the dreams he has with you, that you make him happy. And he doesn't want to pretend he doesn’t have feelings for you in a crowded room. Jake has always thought of love as a weakness, but if it is, then he’s weak for you.

You tug him closer, “Jake,” you look at him and without a single word you understand his feelings, “I felt scared, you know? When you first approached me, I wondered — what is he doing? And then you were you, and I asked myself if I would still love you, even if it meant losing everything. I realised that I would, that maybe because you’re beside me I’m not afraid to lose anything.”

“You love me?” Jake blinks, looking at you to see a matching gleam of tears shimmering in your gaze, so intimate and full of soft understanding that it makes the sensation in his chest even worse. 

“I guess I do,” you say very slowly, syllables coated in wilting flowers, “I mean you might think it’s a bit sudden, but—”

Jake cuts your ramble, fingers brushing your silver tears away, and he makes a promise to himself that he won’t ever make you cry again in this lifetime. His lips gravitate towards yours like the atmosphere, a cosmic combustion of nature and honesty. Jake makes sure not to press too hard, kissing you lightly, gently, and holding you like tomorrow won't be arriving. There’s no fireworks, no anti-gravity moments, but it’s warm and real and quiet, and it’s — you. It’s the both of you.

And you think that there’s a slight difference between kissing someone because you love them and kissing someone because words can no longer accurately express your feelings for the person. That’s exactly what you’re feeling right now, and you want Jake sim to sow his fingers in your hair, like flower roots in the soil.

“I love you,” Jake breathes, fingertips tracing the curve of your jaw. “It’s always been you. I never wanted to be selfish, but I can’t, angel, I can’t. I have always been yours.”

You are the sunlight falling through trees, the laughter that breaks through sadness, the breeze on a summer day, clarity amidst confusion. You may not be the world but you are everything that makes him want to stay in it. WIthout you, his life would still exist but that’s all he’d be able to do. And he’ll love you in every season, through all the changes in your soul. He’ll love you on February 30th without hesitation because that is where his love for you reaches — times that don’t exist.

He keeps his words to himself. 

“Jakey, do you know what a soulmate is?”

It was a concept you’d once seen, always believed in and you never really wrapped your head around the concept of something so supernaturally realistic. But now, you realise, that the boy in front of you is the boy you’d choose in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality.

Jake closes his eyes again, feeling a light inside him flicker. “Yeah,” he admits, “it’s us.”

“Yeah it is,” you nod, “so you’re never getting rid of me even if you try.” 

The words have a hard time penetrating through the fog around his mind, but then Jake gets it, he really gets it. “As if I’d try to,” he laughs, the definition of snow and sugar and serendipity.

If someone asked Jake how many times you’ve crossed his mind, he’d say once, because you never left.

The best kind of love takes time. It takes months, years, decades – entire calendars filled with small memories. And you believe that love is just like honey: thick and golden, like the feeling where you’re slowly floating out of your universe and falling into someone else’s. Love is slow, patient. It lingers behind the rhythm of heartbeats and the faltering of footsteps, until one day you realize that you’d do anything for your lover.

And then there’s a different kind of love — quieter, softer, protective. It’s reserved for special people, people who’ve watched you fall and get back up, blood streaming like tears down from scrapes of hurt and uncertainty. This love, too, is beautiful. It reminds you of a flower, always growing until it reaches the sun. It’s warm. 

Maybe that’s the beauty of love: how endless it is. How there’s no end of beginning, and you think maybe you’ll spend the rest of eternity finding out new forms of love.

A few weeks later it’s plastered all over the media — pictures of you and your boyfriend kissing against the lockers. And surprisingly you feel nothing but peace. 

“Baby, you alright,” Jake watches quietly as you look up to him, eyelids fluttering as if your lashes were regal butterflies, and he scans your body to make sure you’re okay before burying his head into the crook of your neck. 

You melt, fingers weaving into Jake’s glossy hair and breathing in his sandalwood, sea salt scent with just a hint of fresh danger. And you can feel his worry for you, “I’m alright Jakey.”

“Okay,” Jake whispers, “I was worried.” And he lifts his head, eyes shining as he presses your nose with the pad of his thumb. It’s warm and he feels happy. “Did your parents say anything?”

“I mean, just something about me staging a teenage rebellion, nothing too serious.”

His heart lurches, “like those movies we watch, like Wild Child?”

You grin, “like Wild Child.”

“That’s good that it’s nothing too serious, or I’d have to intervene.” Jake says seriously and his words make you giggle in the warmth of his body.

“Intervene? What are you, my knight in shining armour?”

“I’d like to think I’m more of a devilish prince,” he corrects and you roll your eyes, “like I’m Romeo and you’re Juliet.”

“Romeo isn’t a prince,” you tell him, “and they die in the end.”

You gaze at him, eyes shining with something akin to salvation, and Jake feels himself fall a little bit more in love with you — who holds the stars inside of his soul, body beautiful and a face a sculpture of dazzling art. 

He leans down, pressing your lips together. It’s slow, unhurried, unrushed — as if you have all the time in the world. 

You do.

Jake falls even further in love now, thinking that you are so beautiful and so pretty and your eyes sparkle like fairy lights.

“Well then I guess till death do us apart.”

I love you.

© SJYUNS

[yoiisa]

It is possible to write with Blue Lock Bys (Yukimiya, Reo, Rin, Michael, Shidou and Isagi) with a s/o who has high libido. Please😫😈

of course darling hehe (⸝⸝> ᴗ•⸝⸝)

all characters aged up (20+)! Tags: pwp ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ), dirty talk, unprotected sex, p in v, begging, thigh humping (yukimiya), lingerie kink (reo), fingering (rin), oral sex f! receiving (kaiser), car sex, slight degredation (shidou), and body worship (isagi), please proceed with caution as this is smutty!!

➜ yukimiya kenyu would be such a tease with you, but like, in a knowing way ➜ like he'd pretend to jump at the opportunity to sate your appetite, but actions speak louder than words, and he would tease you by continuously putting sex off until you're actually dying for it ➜ he wants you begging for it, because then he can finally take care of you fully, caring for your every need with intense diligence ➜ he's very particular about enjoying every little detail about you, so by teasing you and drawing out your need so much, he thinks it helps him experience everything more intensely ➜ and it most certainly ensures you feel everything more intensely

"Kenyu, please~" you whine as you sit on his lap. "Please..." "What is it baby? he coos softly. It's sarcastic, you know, but still the rumble of his voice is something, and you're so desperate right now you'll take something over nothing any day of the week. Your hips begin to rub against his thighs in an unconscious effort for friction. Your eyes close as you rest your head on his shoulder. A small sigh of relief escapes your lips as Yukimiya allows the ministrations, and a tiny smile pulls at your mouth. At least there's this. Something over nothing, remember that- "Baby, I told you, at the end of this chapter, I'll-" Yukimiya's hand moves to you ass, gripping it tightly, trying to still your hips. "Kenyu, you said that three chapters ago!" your voice is high pitched and almost manic as a particularly sharp sensation of pleasure echoes through your body. You fist his shirt and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. "Mmmmm- please Ken, I . . . I can't take this anymore~" With a sigh, he closes his book. He sets it off to the side and wraps his arms around you, pulling you tighter against him. You begin kissing at his neck and jaw, your tongue darting out to taste his skin. You feel like you're floating, everything about Yukimiya furthering how deep you spiral into a sweet needy mess for him. "Okay, come on," he says sweetly, kissing your temple. "I'll give you exactly what you need my sweet baby." You can only preen at the idea that you're finally getting what you want as he lifts you bridal style from the couch and kicks the bedroom door closed behind you two with his heel.

➜ oh reo mikage my king ➜ i think reo's favorite hobby when it comes to people he cares about is spoiling them rotten, so if you have a high drive, he's all for it, 100% ➜ if you come calling, he'll drop everything for you. ➜ also, bonus! in my mind, this man has a thing for lingerie, so you better fucking believe that this man has an entire section of your closet just dedicated to different sets. ➜ maroon, black, lavender, navy blue, gold, in silk, satin, lace, and whatever else your mind can conjure up. If you can think it, he has probably bought it and fucked you in it ➜ after all, he has the time and the resources, and he's nothing if not generous, so why not make the most of it?

Reo ran his hand over his face, then threading his fingers through his hair. The hour was wearing on him, he could feel the ache settling into his bones. He stands and walks to a chaise in his study, pouring a drink for himself and sipping it. However, he barely gets two sips down his throat before the glass is being forced away from his lips. His eyes widen and he looks down to see you, with your fingers gently pushing at the rim of his glass. You're dressed in a lavender silk robe, the fabric hanging loosely over a peak of lace hugging your skin. His pupils enlarge as he takes in the teasing glimpse and you laugh softly at his expression. "I . . . thought you might be stressed," you say, taking the glass from him and setting it on a table next to the chaise. "I wanted to come help." He's silent for a moment, before a smirk tugging at his lips. A soft blush paints his cheeks and he cups your face lovingly in his hands. "Is that the only reason?" You pout and wrap your arms around his neck, giggling softly. "Hmmm . . . no~" And that's how you end up on the chaise, your legs bent over his shoulder. Your panties are pulled to the side, and your bra is still on, but your robe has been tossed somewhere far behind the two of you. Reo hovers above you, dragging moans and cries of pleasure from your mouth with each deep thrust into you. He's intoxicating, and you can't seem to get enough of him. And as you stare deep into his eyes, you know he feels the same. As you reach your peak for the third time that night, your eyes flutter closed, your back arches, and he welcomes it with a sharp inhale of his own and a kiss pressed against the hollow of your throat.

➜ i feel like rin itoshi's drive isn't the highest thing in the world ➜ like, he enjoys sex and he with you he really enjoys it, but it's never been his priority in the relationship ➜ also I feel like between soccer practices and other responsibilities he gets tired pretty easily ➜ that being said, he does still want to help you out whenever you get needy, so when he's too spent to use his cock, he resorts to his next best thing ➜ or in my opinion, my fav thing about him: his fingers

"Rin!" you gasp, clinging to his body like a madman. His fingers delve deftly inside of you, curling at all the right angles, and sending sparks of pure bliss throughout your lower body. When your hips give a particularly harsh buck, he tsks and grabs your ass with his free hand. "Stop moving so much," he growls. The deep cadence of his voice sends another thrill of pleasure in you and you nuzzle your head deep into neck. "Sorry, 't just feels so good," you mewl. "I love it so much . . . ah~!" A smirk appears on Rin's face, but just as quickly as it comes it vanishes. He licks his lips as he stares down at your disheveled appearance. Your hair is disheveled, and your bare from the waist down. You're not wearing a bra, so he can see the outlines of your chest as it heaves beneath your shirt, which hangs loosely over your frame. When you pull back from his neck, the look in your eyes almost makes him finish right then and there. They glisten with tears of pleasure, and are lidded. He can see the pleasure you're feeling etched into every line of your iris, and love is mixed within that. He feels a tight pull in his chest and he can't help himself from leaning down and catching your lips in his. His tongue immediately delves into your mouth, exploring your mouth. You moan softly into his mouth and he sighs. His fingers don't let up at all, continuing to tease and prod and touch every crevice it can reach. You start to writhe in his arms, but he holds fast, keeping you still. You have no choice but to succumb to his assault on your core. Rin kisses you as you finish on his hand, groaning as you go all sweet and pliant in his hands. When he pulls back, you slump against him like a rag doll and he huffs out a hoarse laugh. As you regain your bearings, he lifts his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean.

➜ michael kaiser operates entirely on his own schedule, so to be honest, if he's not in the mood, you're kinda screwed ➜ but if he is in the mood, YOU are in for it ➜ all his want and desire make your neediness seem like nothing ➜ also, kaiser's got some good ass stamina, so if you set him off, you better pray your drive doesn't fizzle out because this man is getting his fill of you ➜ whether it's on his tongue or on his dick

You squeal as your boyfriend practically chucks you onto the bed. You look over your shoulder and your heart stops beating after you catch a glimpse of the sheer delight on his face. His smile is cocky and powerful and is so goddam sexy. You match his smile and flip onto your back, pushing yourself up on your forearms as Kaiser practically crawls on top of you. Kisses on your mouth turn to kisses on your neck, which turns into kisses along your chest, then your stomach, and before you know it, he's shirtless, you're naked, and his kissing the inside of your thighs. Your hands thread through his hair and he stares up at you, his blue eyes lidded and wanton. His tongue is gentle at first, testing the waters of your arousal, but soon he's lapping at you like a madman. His tongue works wonders on your core, leaving you fully satisfied but still achy for more at the same time. You know it doesn't make any sense, but the "Please" and the "More" still drip from your mouth even as he's delivering everything you've been craving since morning. And he is well aware of the effect he's having on you. You can feel his mouth twist into a smirk against you and it only drives you crazier. Your hands tug at his hair and he hisses, sending sweet vibrations through your core. Your whimpers and moans continue to build in pitch and volume, before finally, you're exploding on his tongue with a sharp call of his name. When Kaiser pulls back, he takes in your mussed appearance with a heat in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. His lips and chin glisten with your fluids. He licks his lips as he settles his hips in between your thighs and gives a sharp grind. "Don't give out on me just yet liebe," he coos. "I'm not done with you yet."

➜ shidou ryusei matches your freak the best on this whole list I think ➜ he will be down for whatever and whenever you want, but also . . . wherever you want ➜ shidou lives for the thrill of life, and chases the high of something new and exciting, so if you're high sex drive comes with promises of that, sign him the fuck up!

"Ryu!" you cry out as he yanks on your hair. The two of you have climbed into the backseat of the car. You're pressed up against the leather of the seats, with his chest flush against yours. You squeal and a slutty smile etches itself onto your face as he licks your neck. "Ryu~ ah . . . oh my god- slow down-ah." "Slow down, huh?" Shidou growls, his lips pulling into a smug smile. "Why~? You were just begging for it a few minutes ago." "I-I know, but- holy shit, you- ah!" You didn't even know it was possible for someone to fuck like this, but here he was. One hand perched on the roof of the car, the other holding the dip of your waist. His face moves from your neck to between the shoulder blades, and he litters kisses there, and sucks bruises down your spine. He travels back up to your shoulder and nips at the skin there, his hips never faltering once in their rhythm. "God I love this little body of yours so much," Shidou whispers hotly against the curve of your ear. "Every single time I see you, fuck, you don't even know how hard you make me." "Mmmmmm," your head tilts back, resting on his shoulder. "I think I do," you whine. "Yeah, can you feel it babygirl? It's all hard and deep inside of you isn't it?" he laughs, the sound sharp and hoarse in your ear. To anyone else, it might be grating, but all it's serving to do right is bridge you closer and closer to the edge. "Fuck! Ryuseiii, I'm gonna- uh! Wait- I, I-!" your eyes go cross and your body shakes with violent tremors. You bite down on your lip to try and keep quiet, but Shidou presses his hand to your lips, prying them open. "Come on now, lemme hear those sweet, sweet- fucking I'm gonna come too. Oh, fuck, fuck, yes. Fuck!" The two of you lean into one another, sweat slicking your bodies as you reach your peak together.

➜ my babygirl isagi yoichi is the easiest to get seduced by you ➜ i had this idea for a fic a long time ago where he comes home and your really needy and it was this whole ovulation type thing, but basically the point boils down to, if you want it isagi will give it ➜ in my mind, he's the most flexible to appeal to whatever type of sex you want, whether it be hard and rough or soft and loving ➜ as we all know he's super adaptable and that carries over during sex, so yay to anyone who's dating him!

Sunlight filters in through the window, the early morning glow giving everything a soft halo to it, including you. You and Isagi are laying on your sides, your chest pressed against his and your leg tossed across his hips. One of your arms are wrapped around his neck and the other trapped between your bodies, your hand intwined with his. A soft blush paints your cheeks and his, and you stare into Isagi's deep blue eyes through your lashes. His strokes are deep and send soft whimpers flowing from your lips. Each whisper of his name only sends Isagi down a path for more, more, more. "Pretty," you whisper, "you look so pretty like this Yoichi, mmm!" He huffs out a dry laugh and shakes his head. Compared to how you look right now- flushed cheeks, dilated eyes, plump lips ready for kissing- he can't imagine how he could even compare to your beauty. You clench down around him and he groans. "You feel so good," he sighs, closing his eyes. His hand squeezes yours and he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours. "Even this early in the morning . . . how do you always feel so good?" You giggle softly, the sound dissolving into a moan. "Mmmm . . . Yoichi, I love you . . . I love you so much- mmph!" He cuts you off with a firm kiss. He can feel himself getting closer and closer to the end and an embarrassing threatens to escape his lips. For the sake of his dignity, this is the best move. His tongue brushes against yours, and your quick to return his kiss with just as much fervor. He finishes before you, but that's okay. As he says while your panting from the kiss, "It's still early. We have enough time for two- maybe three rounds. Are you okay to keep going?" All you can do is nod, and he continues earnestly, flipping you onto your back and ensuring this time you finish.

a/n: this was a beast to write, especially Shidou. Although I appreciate his freak, I fear I cannot match it as well as I would like lol, so I had to really brainstorm with his to make sure they all didn't just sound the same (˶˃⤙˂˶)

[masoncantthinkofaname]

Death, respawning, and more

I've had multiple people approach me about these topics recently, and I have also seen a few posts about it. So I decided to throw in my two cents, for those interested.

Obviously, be warned for the topics that will be discussed here, skip past this if you're uncomfortable. But if anything this is meant to be reassuring, not scary. Also keep in mind I'm not promoting anything, simply educating.

Yes, I have died before, in a reality similar to the one we're in right now. Got an internal bleeding in my stomach, died, and went to an afterlife. That afterlife was more like a waiting room of some kind, I don't know whether it had all the comforts I needed, or if things manifested instantly, but my husband was there, it was nothing scary. When I realised I died, and wanted to go back, I came to a version of this place where I didn't die.

You are immortal. You always will be immortal. Death is an experience in the 3d. You are not the 3d, you are simply experiencing it. Nothing, and I mean nothing can ever stop you from shifting. You die? You shift. You want to shift? You shift. You don't want to shift? You still shift. There's no end, no beginning, just existence.

That's why I always say there's no pressure, no rush, no hurry. There's no clock you're racing, because you literally have infinite time.

Whatever you want to happen after death is exactly what you will experience. You're always in control.

What about respawning? Permashifting? ''Cutting ties''

To be very direct. It's made up, just a comfort belief. There is no cutting ties when there were no ties to begin with. There's nothing to cut, nothing to let go of. You're not connected to this reality any more than you are connected to the reality where you have eyes between your buttcheeks.

Not only is there nothing you have to do to cut ties with here, there's also nothing you CAN do. The most you can intend for is that you simply don't remember this place, if you truly don't want to associate with it at all. But I promise you, nothing is tying you here, nothing is connecting you to this place.

But that also means, you always can come back, if you want to. You're infinite, remember? You always have a choice, in every single thing you do. Even if you permashift, respawn, or anything else, you can always come back if you feel like it. And similarly, you can always forget about this place and decide you never want to return.

As many of you probably know by now, me and my husband have sort of respawned ourselves. A fresh start, a new life, with no memory of this place. Except we intended to remember it at some point, which, after like 300, maybe 400 years, brought us back here for now.

Again, it's your life. You can do whatever you want, whenever you want it, however you want it. Like I've said before, the only rule is that there are no rules.

You're exactly where you're meant to be. No need to put pressure on yourself, enjoy the ride. Nothing can take this ability away from you, I promise! 💚

[abbygailfox]

This is so, so important.

The amount of posts I have read – especially during the last few weeks – about how people think that she has always been this way and she wrote Harry Potter with the intention of pushing her agenda onto children from a very young age.

I truly, honestly think that that's incredibly dangerous. Because it operates under the believe that people's believes always stay the same. It stems from a black-and-white mindset in which people are – in the most simple of terms – either "good" or "bad" and they always stay that way. That is not the case. People are never unchanging in their views. They are made and influenced by things that happen to and around them. Constantly. And usually that is even a good thing. We measure the ability of critical thinking by observing how someone reacts to new information. If we give people information that they did not have before, we expect them to reconsider their stance. However that also means that we need to check ourselves again and again and again. And to do that tomorrow as well. And next week. And next year. And every day that comes after that again. It's a never ending process.

Because human beings never stop changing. And we are so easily influenced. Mainly because of two things:

1) All of us – every single one – want's to belong somewhere. Some of us may enjoy being alone, yes. But no-one ever wants to be lonely. And people have done and will do horrendous things to prevent being lonely.

2) If we have power, we don't want to let go of it. Especially if we know what it feels like not to have any. That doesn't mean that no-one ever does. There are good people in this world. But our first impulse is always to hold onto what makes us stronger and harder to hurt. And power does that.

Number 1) is what makes it so easy for people to get caught up in even the most ridiculous, dangerous or hateful cults and why it is so incredibly hard to leave them again. Because as soon as you can push a "we against them" agenda, you are a part of the "we". You're part of a group. You belong. No-one in their right mind would want to leave that. The situation – of yourself or someone you hold extremely dear – has to be incredibly dire for you to leave everything you know behind, leave your entire social circle, and subsequently be helpless, lost, potentially without means and confronted with people who don't understand why you joined in the first place. Who will potentially make fun of you and exclude you.

Number 2) is what happened to Rowling, I suppose. I don't know Rowling and at this point I don't care to. But she also probably didn't just wake up one day and said: "Actually I like all this money and power and the platform I have now quite a lot. But if I help marginalised groups to get more power, I might loose some of my own. So let's hate on them instead." No. It happens in increments. Maybe one day she was asked to give up more money than she was comfortable with for "some charity". And she decided the cause wasn't worth it, because after all, it was "just trans-people" and wait a minute what have "they" ever done for her? Or for women in general? In fact, couldn't their mere existence be a hinderance to the progression of women's rights? And after all it's her money. She worked hard for it. They could have done the same thing, but they didn't, did they? Or something else entirely, I can only speculate. (I don't support any of that, obviously. I'm trying to show how you slip into this kind of thinking.)

The point is, non of this is noticeable in the beginning. All these processes are gradual.

No cult just knocks on your door and goes: "We have the most insane conspiracy theories out there, science is a scam, we won't allow you to take modern medicine and we will drain all our your financial means to a point where you are helpless without us. By the way, do you have any LGBTQIA people in your social circle? We don't condone those. But hey, we can provide you with people who will act like they are your friends. You know, to substitute the ones that you will inevitably push away, if you join us. Heads up though, if you try to leave, we will blackmail you." No racist (or at least very few) will just come up to you and say: "I have this theory, that white people are better than people of colour. Let me convince you of it." (And frankly most people are not self-aware enough to realise when they are being racist.)

It will always start small. It will seem reasonable and harmless in the beginning. Some of the arguments you might even agree with. And suddenly you are in too deep, to get out.

This is NOT – and I cannot stress this enough – meant to be any sort of excuse for Rowling. I think the woman and the bullshit she spews is truly vile. This is also not meant to condemn all people in positions of power, because there are counterexamples – even if they get way to little attention. There are rich people who give money to science. Silently and without a self-serving agenda. Famous people who speak up for all kinds of marginalised groups. Powerful people that do invest in slowing climate change. There are powerful people giving a shit, just as much as there are people in marginalised groups that hate on everyone else and buy into a "we against them" agenda. (It's never black and white).

And please don't misunderstand me. You absolutely have every right to be angry at the bitch. You *should* be fucking angry. At anyone who tries to hurt and invalidate you. You should be livid. I am too. Oppose hatred wherever you find it. Oppose every vile word that comes out of Rowling's mouth, every anti-human rights bullshit you hear. Not just from her, but from everybody around you. Protect yourself and others. Do whatever you need to do to cope, especially if people don't just attack your believe in everyone being treated equally, but if they hit you on a more personal level. (Frankly, I personally get twitchy when people burn books – no matter which ones – mainly because I am German and pictures like those do not have great connotations in my world. But everyone copes differently.)

However the point is, the focus of this conversation has turned to "Harry Potter" way too much. (Yes, it makes her money, but we're not about to stop that, at this point. And I'll leave the decision, if the work can be separated from the author, enough to engage with content that does not make her money, for everyone to decide for themselves. The debate has been going on since before Roland Barthes discussed it [yes I know he mainly meant the level of influence the authors bibliography had on the text, it's still the same argument, but with a different aspect], using multiple prominent figures as examples. That is something every single person has to decide for themselves and we cannot push our decisions onto others.)

What I am really trying to make you understand is: We all like to think about ourselves, that we would use our power for good if we had any. That we would treat all people equally and would use our money to further the cause of all marginalised people in the world. End world hunger, end poverty, end the patriarchy, the list is endless. But we do not know if we would do that. Because we are not in the situation to do so. We do not know if – on the road to power – we would have kept the same three friends, that call us out on behaving like an asshole. We don't know if we could have kept a hold on our humility and our worldview and our ability to still see people in positions of less power and feel the urge to help.

What I am really, really trying to say in this rant (and I know it is endlessly long and I apologise) is this:

Nothing in life. EVER. Is black and white. You are not on the "good side", because you once made a selfless decision. Other people are not on the "bad side" because they have power or money. And the borders are not clear-cut. There are so many shades of grey. You can always ALWAYS slip. And you probably won't notice. EVERY SINGLE PERSON on this planet is corruptible. And this is not meant to discourage you. I don't mean to paint our world and our society as hopeless, because they are NOT. You are not condemned to become some soulless creature that does not care a lick about others, simply because you get to a place of greater power. This is in fact meant to encourage you. Encourage you to call others out. Especially encourage you to call yourself out. Encourage you to listen, truly listen, to people when they tell you, that you're being an ass about something. Maybe they are wrong. But maybe they are right. You can be influenced. But you can also influence how you yourself behave and how you treat people. How you view people. Not just groups, but individuals also. Have the courage to be kind. To everyone. And have the courage to question. Yourself and others. Check yourself and your thinking. Always. And if you think this could never happen to you and you could never harm people or mentally sort them into groups to be stigmatised and thusly easier pushed aside… Check yourself twice!

ok im going to #seriouspost for a second here. I don't think Harry Potter is a manifesto. I think it was a flawed passion project that millennials latched onto because of the fantasy of sticking it to their mean teachers and arbitrarily categorizing themselves (hogwarts houses; it's the thinking millennial's astrology). I think the fact that the series got popular when and how it did was very much a product of its time.

I don't think Harry Potter is the biggest symbol of JKR's bigotry. I think the most flagrant sign of that was how she responded to critics. I watched her become radicalized in real time. I watched how she doubled down on her racism when she was called out for the ways she promoted her tragically mid fantastic beasts movies. I watched her chase marginalized teenagers with a double digit follower count off of twitter for daring to criticize her thought process, and no one with any kind of power standing against her because she was the one who was paying them. This isn't to say Harry Potter is without flaws. This is to say she really didn't give a shit about that. Getting rich and powerful is a hell of a drug, and she had enough sycophants that she had no reason to care about what her critics were saying.

She was convinced that she was a martyr; a voice for the unheard; a leader for the ages, so of course her detractors were the bad guys. And I think we should take this to heart. We should see this as an example of how easy it is to get radicalized; if you think of yourself as a paragon of virtue, you are going to think that whatever you see as good and right is an objective fact. Most people don't know this, but the majority of terfs start out as trans allies. You are not immune to propaganda! You are not immune to falling into dangerous ideologies!!!

This is why the most important thing you can do as an activist is to listen. Do NOT think you're above being wrong; do NOT develop a god complex; do NOT form an identity out of being right all the time. Involve yourselves in the groups you claim to speak for. Listen to trans women; share resources that help trans women; familiarize yourself with the diversity of experiences that trans people have and the struggles they face.

No, none of you are as bad as JKR because you don't have her money or her power. You will likely never have the capacity for harm she does. But check yourselves. Do not affirm yourselves into thinking you always have the moral high ground. Watch yourselves; humble yourselves; check yourselves for signs of cult behavior and internalized prejudice. You are always learning. You will always be learning. Do not allow yourselves to get a power trip from brushing off marginalized voices.

[anniebeckcalla]

white chocolate and raspberries

sweet gestures with bf!nct dream

(bf!nctdream x reader) ◦ ₊ NOT PROOFREAD! ◦ ₊WC! 1.3K ◦ ₊ CW! fluff, fluff, fluffety fluff.

masterlist | cafe | click here!

ღNOTE FROM C. It's time we had some happiness after the gloom of the recent smaus. (I'll get back to them though, they're fun to write!) I hope you enjoy this post, if took me a while to write!

haechan

“Stop wriggling, will you?” You put the eyeliner wand on the bathroom sink, rinsing your hands for the nth time. “There's more liner on my fingers than on your eyes!” Haechan shrugged. “Sorry, baby. I could hardly keep still when you're staring into my eyes like that.” He placed his hands on your waist, drawing you close. “Can't say I'm complaining, though.” Frowning, you cupped his face in your hands, meaning to reprove him. In response, he gazed up at you wordlessly. His eyes sparkled with what could only be awe and reverence; the ghost of a smile lingered on his mouth. “Forget it,” you sighed. “I can't ever stay mad at you.” “I know,” Haechan whispered back, closing his eyes as you leaned in closer to kiss him.

jaemin

You took a deep breath as you bit into the toasted cheese panini, your eyes closing to fully appreciate the sensation. The crisp bread merged perfectly with the creamy cheese; the salted butter sparked little bursts of flavour around your mouth with each chew. It was nothing short of perfection.

‘Click!’

You opened your eyes, lowering your sandwich to see Jaemin across the table. He was holding his camera up, smiling as his finger snapped away. “Not while I'm eating!” you flushed, hand hovering over your mouth. “I look awful!” Jaemin lowered his camera. “Sorry, y/n. You looked so happy just then, I just had to capture it.” He looked down at the tiny camera screen. “You look so beautiful, even while you're eating.” “Stop praising me,” you mumbled. “I mean it, y/n. You look good doing anything.” Jaemin put his camera away, reaching across the table for your hand. “If I didn't control myself, all my albums would be full with pictures of you.”

jeno

The fields and trees passed by in a blur as the train snaked across the lines at full speed. You loved the window seat, and now you were sat in one, you wanted to gaze out of the window and appreciate the scenery. However, the day had tired you out. The darkening sky and warmth of the train made it hard to keep your eyes open. “You're quiet for once,” Jeno remarked, looking up from his phone. “Normally, you'd be telling me to stop scrolling and look out of the window with you.” You didn't have the strength to reply. Instead, you gave a low ‘mm hm’. “Woah, you're really tired,” Jeno said.

There was a short silence.

“Do you, er—do you want to use my shoulder as a pillow?” he spoke up, his face reddening slightly. “I mean, you don't have to—”

You didn't need to be asked twice. You let your head rest on his shoulder, letting sleep overwhelm your mind. Jeno didn't pick his phone back up. Instead, he put his arm around your shoulders, gazing down at you with love and infatuation.

jisung

“Ready to go now, y/n?” Jisung turned around when you heard you on the stairs. A smile lit up his face when your eyes met, and he took your hand as your feet reached the floor. “I haven't done too much with this outfit, have I?” you winced. “I mean, we're only going to a house party.” Jisung shook his head. “Not at all, love. It's perfect.” He raised your wrist to his nose, inhaling your perfume. “What did you use? It smells lovely.” “Oh, just a bit of ‘La vie en rose,’” you replied, your ears burning as shyness overwhelmed you. Jisung pressed his lips to your wrist, eyes closed. “I'm so glad I get to call you mine,” he whispered, tickling your wrist. “Me too,” you whispered back, breathless with delight.

mark

The elevator always took forever to get to your apartment floor. It was annoying most days, but this evening, it marked a peaceful end to the commotion of your day at work. “Thank goodness for that,” you sighed into the stillness of the elevator as it began its descent. “Today aged me by at least 80 years.” Mark was gazing at you in the elevator mirror. “No,” he replied. “You look absolutely beautiful.” He stood behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. “We both look beautiful,” he whispered. He was right- you were both tired from the long day at work, and it had been a rough journey home, but you two still managed to look beauteous in the elevator mirror. “We complement each other perfectly, don't we?” you said, interlocking his hands with yours. “Too right we do,” Mark replied, pressing his lips on your cheek gently.

renjun

You were so deep in conversation with Renjun that you didn’t notice the bus coming to an stop, nor hear the voice of the person paying for their ticket. It was only when you felt eyes glaring at you from across the aisle that you finally turned your head to see your past in human form- your ex. He held your gaze, clearly enjoying how uncomfortabIe he still made you. “It's him, isn't it?” Renjun's voice was low as he took your hand in his, thumb caressing your knuckles. “Yes,” you whispered back, your breathing unsteady. “It's him.” “He won't hurt you, okay? I'm here,” Renjun said. “Don't even look at him. Just focus on me." You nodded, staring at his jumper. “Maybe we should walk the rest of the way,” you muttered. “Why should we?” Renjun replied. “We have more of a right to be here than he has.” You nodded, squeezing Renjun's hand in gratitude.

chenle

“Are you sure you're alright?” you shouted, fighting to be heard above the gale. You were protected from the rain by a flimsy umbrella that flapped about clumsily, but Chenle was exposed to the elements. He was drenched in rainwater, his shoes and clothes squelching with every step. The only part of him that stood a chance was his hand, that which he was using to hold the umbrella for you. “I'm fine, don't worry. There's only space for one under there,” he shouted back. You couldn't help staring at him in admiration. It was unfortunate about the rain, but he looked rather handsome with the rain running off his hair and face. His act of chivalry- letting you have the umbrella whilst holding it for you- made your heart beat an little faster. “I know this isn't a good time, but I love you,” you said. You almost thought he hadn't heard you, but then he turned to you, smiling. “I love you too,” he replied.

thank you for the comments and reblogs !! (　＾ω＾)

taglist: @cigsaftersuh @jenoleeaesthetic @pl4netx1a @jeonghansshitester @chenlezip @neodreamzenie @markkiatocafe @mejaemin (thank you so much everyone ღ)

[explicit-tae]

Repent (4)

There's only one night left of the retreat and Jungkook is way too far into his head for his own good.

Word Count: 6.847

Warning: smut, skinny dipping, dirty talking, kissing, unprotected sex, nipple play/sucking, shower scenes, fingering, oral sex, degradation, bible verses?? lmao, creampie,

Part One | Two | Three

Jungkook finds that he enjoys eating you out.

At first, after the night you and he shared, he was a bit nervous to bring up the request again. He didn’t want you to think that all he ever wanted to do with you was sexual activities. But he’d be a liar if he said that he didn’t enjoy suckling on your clit. He’s gathered that in such a short amount of time, he’s sinned far too many times to count, he didn’t want to add liar onto his list.

There was something about the way Jungkook grew more and more insatiable when it comes to you. Each night you’d come into his cabin and join him beneath his sheets. You’d always say how cute he was and Jungkook would always intend on proving you wrong by eating you out.

The once shy and reserved Jungkook had turned into the being you knew he could be, the confidence he had buried within coming out little by little.

Especially in the way his hands would force your thighs apart as his tongue ravished your clit greedily. He would bob his head back and forth, fully enthralled with the act of eating you out that he never came up for air. 

Maybe it was your moans that gave Jungkook his will. He finds you entirely hot when you moan out his name, your hand tangled in his hair. You enjoyed what he was doing. Your thighs would shake and your face would be drawn with pleasure - it fueled his passion entirely.

However, all good things had to come to an end. It was the last day of the retreat and everyone had since packed to leave the following day.

“So let me get this straight,” Taehyung begins. “you haven’t fucked her yet?” Jungkook groans. He should know better by now then to call his friends for help as they almost never were any.

“You’ve eaten her out at least 50 times already.” Hoseok snorts. “Isn’t the retreat over tomorrow?”

“There isn’t any rush. If her grandmother goes to the same church, you’re bound to see her again.” Namjoon encourages. Jungkook can practically hear the smile in his tone.

“I say you fuck her raw dog and-”

Jungkook hangs up the phone entirely. His issue isn’t with having sex with you because, in all honesty, he’s positive that you’d say yes to him if he brought it up. 

Jungkook had a problem now. In a short amount of time, you’ve come and captivated him entirely in ways that he’s embarrassed. Not because he’s embarrassed of you, but of himself and how fast it took for him to acknowledge that he liked you.

In ways that’s more than just hooking up.

Jungkook isn’t sure if after tonight, would you and him be…friends? Would you go back to your regular life and forget about him entirely? Would you ever visit the church in hopes of seeing him?

Jungkook’s mind races as he makes his way out of his cabin. He has his camera in his hands as it was his job to take pictures for the Church, specifically on the last day of the retreat.

The children are restless, all playing outside. Their youth and obliviousness is nice and he wishes he could be a kid again where everything was easier. There wasn’t sin constantly clouding his mind day by day and a girl who he couldn’t get out of his thoughts.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Jungkook had just entered the large dining hall when he heard a soft voice. It’s Meana, who he only saw in passing the last few days.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks, but he’s positive that he knows. He was so caught up in his head that he possibly looked ill, walking around moping at the thought of you leaving the retreat and never speaking to him again.

It was pathetic, truly.

“You look,” Meana tilts her head. “a wreck.” she concludes. She’s holding a bottle of water in her palms. “Is it about Y/N?”

Jungkook’s cheeks flush at the sound of your name and Meana could only smile.

“You like her.” Meana states in a teasing voice. “I think she likes you, too.”

Jungkook’s ears perk a bit. “H-Huh?” he stutters, doe-like eyes widening a bit and dare Meana say she can see them sparkle under the dining halls white lights. “What do you mean? DId she say that to you?”

Meana shakes her head and Jungkook’s shoulders falter.

“But, it’s obvious, right?” Meana shrugs her shoulders. “You and her have been inseparable the last few days.” she states matter-of-factly.

That wasn’t a lie. While you could ignore the stares, Jungkook couldn’t. But he didn’t let them bother him. Being seen with you wasn’t something he was ashamed of. You were seen as the rebelling type who wore too tight clothing just because you wanted to spite whoever was watching. People held their tongue because of their love and respect for your grandmother, not for you.

Meana, however, finds it endearing how close you and Jungkook are. While she hadn’t spoken to Jungkook often since the kiss in his bedroom, she and you had. You had come to apologize to her if you made her uncomfortable and Meana had told you that everything was alright. Sure, her heart did pound around you and her cheeks would warm, but it wasn’t anything that was your fault.

“I’ll even say that you two look like a couple.” Meana teases further, knowing that Jungkook’s face would turn a dark shade of red, and when it does she couldn’t help her laughter. 

“I…I don’t even know if she wants to see me after the retreat.” Jungkook admits sullenly. “She doesn’t come to church-”

“Why don’t you just ask for her number?”

Jungkook is silent. He hadn’t thought about that. The more he thinks about it, maybe he has been quite dramatic.

“But what if-”

“You’re trapping yourself behind bars that are wide enough for you to walk through.” Meana deadpans.

Jungkook could laugh. Meana, after this retreat, has changed a bit, as well. She wasn’t as shy as she once was and he ponders if maybe you being around her has rubbed off like it did him.

“She hasn’t said anything to me about after the retreat.”

Meana shrugs her shoulders. She opens her water bottle. “Maybe she’s waiting for you to say something.” she says prior to taking a swig of it. “Do you ever think she’s tired of making the first move on you?”

Jungkook blinks. 

“No, you haven’t.” Meana giggles. “Because you’re caging yourself behind those too wide bars and allowing your own insecurities-”

“When did you become a therapist?” Jungkook crosses his arms. He can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips. “I don’t remember you being this logical before.”

Jungkook knows that Meana is right, however. You had shown him time and time again that you were interested in him. Maybe not for something further than a friendship, but you were definitely interested in something.

Jungkook finds you sitting outside with a group of kids. They’re all talking at once, far too excited about something and you’re too nice to tell them to calm down and talk one at a time. Your eyes dance around the children as each of them talk and Jungkook finds it endearing.

Jungkook brings his camera up to take a picture of the sight. You only notice when the flash goes off, your attention turning to Jungkook. He lowers his camera and offers you a small smile that you return - one that causes his heart to jolt again.

Don’t be stupid, Jungkook thinks to himself. He thinks of what his friends told him. What Meana told him, but even now all he can focus on is how idiotic it is liking someone you met recently. There was no way in H E double hockey sticks that you liked him in the same way. 

Maybe Jungkook would have more faith in himself if he would just think Hell instead of H E double hockey sticks.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Jungkook blinks a few times to look down at a small child with folded arms. He raises his brows as the boy glares at him.

“Uh, what?” Jungkook nervously laughs, glancing up at you. You’re now standing.

“I already said I was going to marry her.” the little boy points his finger at Jungkook. “So you can’t have her!”

Jungkook blinks. “You’re like 6.”

“I’m 7 and a half!” 

“You’re too young for marriage.” Jungkook wants to slap himself for entertaining a child anyways. 

“And you’re getting too old!”

“I’m not even 30 yet!” Jungkook exclaims.

Jungkook is dragged out of his glaring match with the child when he hears you laugh. A hand is placed onto his bicep and his attention is immediately on you. His shoulders relax a bit. 

“You can’t fight the children, Kookie.” you joke.

“I-I’m not!” Jungkook’s cheeks return to their warm reddened color. 

After offering the young boy a pat on the head, you venture off with Jungkook. Since it was the last day, people decided on cleaning up, packing and eventually just hanging out until the following day. 

“Did you enjoy your time on the retreat?” Jungkook asks after a long stretch of silence. You and him had gone for a walk not too far from the cabins. 

“Of course I did.” you answer. “Dare I even say I had fun.”

Jungkook allows himself  to smile. “I’m glad,” he murmurs.

Your eyes wander to him for a moment, lingering on his face. You believe he has more to say, though you don’t press him on the matter.

“What do you do, uh, outside of all of this?” Jungkook chuckles nervously. He’s sure that after tomorrow, he won’t be seeing you at Church.

You pretend to think long and hard about his question before answering. “I suppose what normal people our age do?” you shrug your shoulders. “I work often, but I have hobbies. What do you do?”

You stop walking to face Jungkook. He does the same.

“I have hobbies, too.” Jungkook murmurs, cheeks dusting pink. He isn’t sure what to say. He’s an open book. You know he attends the church just as often as your grandmother and he’s highly reserved with non-reserved friends encouraging him to, in words his parents would tell him, sin. “I, uh, enjoy drawing as you know. Painting. I go wherever my friends drag me.”

You hum,  lips twitching upwards. “Where do they drag you?”

Jungkook blinks. Were you actually interested in what he was saying?

“Uh, depends. Museums for some, arcades for others.” Jungkook swallows. “I’ve been dragged to clubs a few times, too.”

“Church boy Kookie in a club?” you pretend to be shocked, placing a hand over your mouth. You laugh mere seconds afterwards. “That’s a sight I’d have to see.”

Jungkook and you were far too consumed with one another that neither of you noticed how side by side you two were. You returned back to the cabins for dinner, him listening to you talk to Meana about a TV show he hadn’t heard before, but seems highly entertaining in “girl world” he likes to put it.

The young boy returned, glaring eyes at Jungkook before staring at you with such heart eyes that Jungkook would be threatened if the child wasn’t exactly that, a child. You were convinced by him and more children to do s’mores - an activity that you dragged Jungkook to, much to the little boy's dismay.

Even as the moon shone high above the dark sky, clear of any stars or clouds, Jungkook and you find yourselves by the lake. It’s quiet out as everyone had retreated to bed while you and him went for yet another walk. 

You find that Jungkook is talented in a lot of things. You already know how amazing he was at drawing. His photography skills, as well. He showed you the pictures on his camera that he’s taken - of the children all playing, Church goers. He even showed you some of his friends that appear high-quality and magazines like that you had to compliment him on how amazing it was.

“You’re not very spontaneous, are you?” you asked. You and Jungkook sit on the dock, your feet swinging back and forth at the edge right above the lake. 

Jungkook shakes his head. “No.” he admits. “Everything we’ve done,” he begins, that cute blush on his cheeks as he recalls the moments he and you shared. “is all a first to me.”

Jungkook and you had two different ideas of spontaneity, he’s sure. You offering him a blow job out in the open had to be by far his favorite - he couldn’t remember the last time adrenaline flowed through him like that.

You lick your lips. “The fun shouldn’t stop now, right?”

“What do you mean?”

You don’t answer and instead proceed to lift your shirt over your head. You throw it aside. “You ever gone skinny dipping?”

Widening his eyes, Jungkook shakes his head. You lift yourself up to take off your pants next, your panties going right along with it.

“Y-You’re serious?” Jungkook murmurs, looking around as if anyone is watching. You’re not too far from the cabins, but no one ever comes down to the lake at night.

You’re naked and Jungkook, no matter how many times he was blessed by the heavens above to witness you in such a state, he finds his eyes wandering to your nude figure. 

“You know I am, Kookie.” you offer him a wink. “It’s our last night here. We mind as well make the most of it.”

You don’t wait for Jungkook to respond. Instead, you jump into the lake. Water splashes his shirt a bit as he watches you emerge from the water.

Jungkook’s heart pumps as he looks at your smiling face.

Fuck it, Jungkook thinks. He can hear his friends in his mind clear as ever - to not pussy out (in their crude tone).

Jungkook does the same as you, though folding his clothes and placing them neatly beside your discarded ones before diving in right beside you. You laugh, clapping your hands when he comes up from beneath the water.

“10 points to you, church boy Kookie!”

The water is freezing, but Jungkook doesn’t want to look like a coward, so he holds the shivering to a minimum. That, and he does find this whole thing hot - the act of him and you being totally naked while everyone else is oblivious. Was this something spontaneous you did on the regular? 

“You’re cold, aren’t you?” you giggle. His teeth slightly chattered. “I’m cold, too.”

“Just something to get used to.” Jungkook chuckles. He swims a bit closer to you. The edge of the doc wasn’t too far deep into the water and the ground was touchable if he truly wanted to stand. 

You make the first move, but you know fully that Jungkook doesn’t mind. The little that you’ve known him, you know he was now going through an internal battle of if he should touch you or not.

You wrap your legs around Jungkook’s waist, your hands sitting on his broad shoulders. Jungkook’s hands place themselves onto your hips, feeling even more warmer now that you were so close to him. 

“You must really find working out fun.” you state, remembering what he said a few days prior. “You ever thought about getting any tattoos?”

Jungkook nods his head. “Yeah…but my mother would have a heart attack.” he chuckles. 

You hum. “I think you’d look hot.” you murmur, tightening your legs around him. “I was thinking about getting one.”

Jungkook swallows. Your chest sits directly against his and your hands now lightly rub the skin of his shoulders.

“W-What tattoo?” Damn him for stuttering like a school boy. To think that he’s eaten you out more times than he can count, but you still make him so nervous. 

“Hm…dunno.” you shrug your shoulders. “I want a tramp stamp. That’d be hot, right?”

It would be, Jungkook thinks. He only manages to nod his head because he’s positive that if he continued to think about it, he’d moan this time instead of stutter and he was done with embarrassing himself.

“You’re so…” you blink droplets of water from your eyelashes before smirking. “…cute.” you murmur. “You still get so shy around me.”

“I’m not.” Jungkook lies. It was pointless because you knew he was. “I’m just…not used to being around someone like you.”

“Then why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

Jungkook inhales a breath. “I didn’t know you wanted me to.” 

“Is that so?” you lean in a bit, your cold nose touching his own. “I told you I wanted to fuck you on our first day here.” you murmur.

Jungkook’s ears are red. You had a point, he thinks, but still. You could always change your mind at nay given moment - even if you haven’t already.

Instead of responding, Jungkook places his lips onto yours. The familiar bubble in his stomach, followed by the quickness of his heart beat, Jungkook slightly moans into your lips. His eyes flutter close, his hands bringing you closer against him. 

Kissing you got easier over time, Jungkook thinks, but he cannot help how his body feels afterwards. Even in the cold water, Jungkook can feel his cock begin to throb. 

Your teeth sinks gently onto his bottom lip, tugging it playfully. 

“I intend on having you fuck me still.” 

Jungkook’s eyes flutter open. His hold on you tightens a bit at your words - words that cause his heart to continue to jolt, as well as his cock to throb with need. Just the thought of actually being inside of you.

Without warning, your legs hold onto his tighter, and your arms wrap around his neck. With all your force, you bring your body backwards and underneath the water, bringing Jungkook along with you.

A rush of sensation flows through Jungkook as he and you are enveloped underneath the water. Your legs loosen and so do your arms. You’re pulling away from him, he thinks. He emerges from under the water to hear your bubbly laughter. He wipes his eyes, blinking them a few times to look at you.

“Was that a trick?” 

Jungkook’s tone is playful, you note. You don’t have enough time to process before he’a coming for you. He dips underneath the water. It’s silent for a moment, your head dashing around in an attempt to find him underwater.

A loud screech comes from your lips when hands wrap around your frame and throws you underneath the cold water along with him. You don’t process the rushing of water before you’re being brought up above it once more.

Jungkook is behind you, your back against his chest. Your breathing is heavy when he wraps you in a hug. 

“Church boy Kookie,” you begin, breathing with each passing word. “you’re coming out of your shell nicely.”

Jungkook doesn’t mean for you to feel his cock against your ass, it just happens. Maybe by the way you squirm in his embrace to further tease him. 

“I still want to fuck you.”

Jungkook’s lips are at your ear, warm breath tickling it. You’re already cold, but the way he speaks to you causes the exposed skin to prickle with excited goosebumps. 

“You have such a dirty mouth.”

Jungkook swallows. Dirty talk, he thinks - his friends' words flowing through his mind. He doesn’t want to ruin this moment right now, one that he admits is entirely hot. 

Jungkook places his lips at the nape of your neck, pressing several kisses. His hands roam upwards until they’re at your breast. He grips them in his hands needily, inhaling sharply against your neck.

“You love my dirty mouth.” Jungkook murmurs against your neck, his kisses now pecking upwards until he’s at your ear. “It’s what brings you back to me time and time again.”

Jungkook’s own confidence in his voice surprised even himself. 

“You’re right.” you murmur, eyes fluttering close.

It was a blur getting out of the water and dressing for the sake of returning back to the cabins. You and him had to be quiet as you entered the showers. You assure to lock the doors behind you as Jungkook makes his way to the nearest shower he finds. 

You and him are naked once more, underneath hot steamy water. Jungkook’s arms are around you again, bringing you closer as you and his lips lock together.

Doing all of this has his heart pounding even faster with adrenaline. 

“You okay?” you say against his lips, hands lightly tapping his shoulders as you make them down his wet arms. “I don’t want to overwhelm you with beginner level spontaneity.” 

Jungkook chuckles. His hands are on the low of your back. “I’m fine.” he murmurs. “Just…wanna touch you.”

You hum. “I’m not holding you back.”

Jungkook, no matter how many times he’s managed to touch you, always feels as if it’s the first time. His hands grip your breast once more, inhaling a sharp breath when his palms feel the way your nipples are so hardened. 

“You’re very beautiful, Y/N.” Jungkook murmurs, voice nearly inaudible due to the loud shower hitting against your bodies and the tiled floors. “Sometimes I think this is all a dream and I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone…”

Jungkook’s thumbs press against your perky nipples, rubbing slightly. His cock is throbbing against your thigh, wishing that he'll hurry up and do what you want him to do.

You find Jungkook’s words endearingly poetic - it’s as though he believes that after tonight, you’d disappear into thin air; like a figment of his imagination. 

You didn’t laugh because you truly did find his words endearing. Your heart pumps once those words hit your ears, your already warm body heating up even more. His thumbs twirl your nipples, wet eyelashes blinking up to look at you.

“You’re acting like I’m going to disappear after all of this is over.” you lick your lip as Jungkook comes closer, pressing a kiss to your neck as his hands knead your breast.

“Are you?”

Jungkook told himself that he wouldn’t ask you this question. He doesn’t want to appear as if he’s too interested in you - even though he absolutely is. He’s positive that you know he is. But he understands that you and him are entirely different and for you, this is possibly just an act of spontaneity. 

Jungkook isn’t expecting you to respond so before you could - and possibly break his heart when you told him that you indeed weren’t going to stick around - his tongue strokes along your neck. His right hand roams down from your breast and past your stomach and right between your legs.

Your lips part to release a light gasp when his fingers are on your clit. He rubs them gently, his tongue continuing to swirl on your neck. You were beginning to like the confident side of Jungkook when he didn’t allow his mind to race a mile a minute.

Jungkook’s lips dipped further as his fingers continued to rub along your clit. He still cannot fathom how he managed to be entangled with someone like you - how you even managed to want to be around him. You didn’t mind that he was a bit inexperienced and shy and you were always willing to go easy on him.

If you called the way you came onto him time and time again “easy” - but Jungkook never complained or told you to stop.

Jungkook captures your nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirls on the perky bud, droplets of shower water falling  into his face. His finger inches closer to your hole, wanting to sink them into you. The last few days, he has managed to gain a bit of an idea of what it was like to pleasure you - and each moment he could, he would. If that meant eating you out until you were begging him to stop, then so be it. Fingering you until your legs were shaking and you were making a mess all over his bedsheets, it was completely alright.

Once it was all done, your favorite thing to (think, not say) was how cute Jungkook was at seemingly learning new things that excite him.

“You’re getting better at this.” you lean your head back a bit when Jungkook’s fingers begin to enter you. Your thighs part wider, fully willing to take him.

Jungkook pops your nipple from his mouth, boba-like eyes looking up at you. He doesn’t say anything, but your compliment gets to his head. He begins to pump his fingers and keeps a close eye on you for your reaction. He finds that he enjoys watching you - was that creepy? He enjoys witnessing your face be drawn with pleasure by something he was doing. Your words of encouragement were always welcomed, as well, and it actually made him feel good.

“Are you?” Jungkook repeats his question from earlier, picking up the speed of his thrusting fingers. He comes closer to your face now, shielding the water from yours as it now slides down the back of his head. “Are you going to disappear when it’s all over?”

You squeeze around his fingers, damp lashes blinking away. There isn’t a way Jungkook was going to allow you to not answer his question - or at least think about it. His free hand places on the low of your back, sliding you closer to him. 

“You can always-” you begin but halt when you feel his lips on yours. It’s full of hot need that has you shuddering in them. You wanted to mount him right now more than ever. “-can…always call me.” you finish when his lips lift for air.

Jungkook’s heart jolts again - that meant that you were interested in being friends, right? That after tonight, you and he would keep in touch and he had a chance with you - whatever chance you were willing to give him.

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek. In the words of his dear friend Hoseok told to him before, he had to lock in. He couldn’t scare you away like he had his ex-girlfriend. He would take you in whatever way you wanted him to if it meant that you’d come around again.

The shower didn’t last long. You couldn’t wait any longer and neither could he. After bathing the quickest either of you ever had - mainly because the once hot water that was burning your skin was now running cool - you and he had to sneak back to his room. You were thankful that it was nearly secluded from the rest.

You nustle underneath the covers along with Jungkook, immediately wrapping yourself onto him. You didn’t want to wait any longer - a week was long enough in your eyes. You wouldn't say you were the one to constantly sleep around, but if you saw something - or someone - you wanted, you were determined to have it. 

“What’s your number?” Jungkook blurts out when you nestle on top of him. You only got dressed enough to walk from the showers to his bedroom and immediately stripped down upon entering. 

You snicker. “Can’t we exchange numbers tomorrow?” you say, running your hands up his stomach, his damp shirt nearly sticking to his skin. 

“What if you forget?” 

You pressed yourself further against him. His growing bulge was evident, but his face was sternly cute. 

“Fine,” you let out a short breath, a smile on your lips. “852-0085.” you speak.

Your roaming hands are able to lift the shirt from his shoulders and throw it aside. You then lean down to press your lips onto his collar bone.

“You’re s-still missing the first two numbers!” Jungkook protests, though his voice softens with how good your lips feel against his flushed skin. 

“That makes it fun.” you say as you peck his chest. Your eyes flicker up to Jungkook to find that he’s already looking down at you. 

Jungkook’s chest rumbles a bit, but he doesn’t fight. He can see the glint of mischief in your eyes - this was a game to you. A game he was willing to play; unbeknownst to you he was always the competitive type.

You’re going lower and lower, sliding off of his lap to nestle between his legs. Your fingers hook on his underwear, the hard bulge making it no secret how content he was.

“I feel bad that you’ve eaten me out so many times the last few days.” you say, eyes glancing down to his cock. It’s as if in slow motion does it spring from his underwear, veiny and pink with oozing pre-cum. You lick your lips before glancing up at Jungkook. “I’ve been neglecting you.”

Jungkook bites his lip, eyes unblinking. You wrap a hand around his cock and squeeze it. “N-No, it’s fine!” he assures quickly, swallowing a lump in his throat. The cum leaking out his tip was embarrassing - you hadn’t even done anything yet.  “I like…I like eating you out.” he admits, his cheeks heating up as blood rushes to his cheeks. “I enjoy making you cum, too.”

You want to say it. The urge to call him cute is at the tip of his tongue, but you understand Jungkook doesn’t like to be called that during situations like these. Instead, you poke your tongue out and lick along his slit.

If it’s one thing you did enjoy was watching Jungkook when he was on the receiving end of pleasure. He was so handsome for his own good and you should thank his parents for raising him to be so humble and kind.

And completely deserving of your interest.

Your tongue continues to roll on his tip, the salty taste of cum hits your taste buds. Your eyes continue to watch his face - the way his eyes flutter close and rosy lips part. His chest rises and falls and in the corner of your eye you see his hands grip the sheets. 

A low groan comes from Jungkook’s lips when you bring his cock deeper into your warm mouth. He nearly forgets how good you were at this. The first time it happened, it was hard to forget about it - so much so that he would have to force himself to think of something else so he wouldn’t get an erection while he was out in his room.

Jungkook proceeds to squeeze his eyes shut as your sucking increased. His knuckles had to be a pale white now with how hard he was gripping the cotton sheets. His breathing is ragged and he’s doing everything to not whimper aloud and appear like a loser - but it was hard. 

You blink a few times to rid yourself of the glossiness. Your head rises and falls, each time his tip hitting the back of your throat. Your hands rest on his tone thighs, tapping on them ever so softly just to continue to play with him.

“You’re so g-good at this.” Jungkook’s cheeks are a bright red at how weak his voice sounds. He’s added points to his mental score with how well he was doing at not sounding or appearing like a complete loser the last few days, and now - after whimpering - his points were erased.

Your throat vibrates as to answer him. There’s a pounding between your legs. Jungkook is so vulnerable right now, you think, caught in his own bliss. The amount of times you’d thought of this very cock splitting you open in a way you know he can if he’d just let loose.

Maybe you just had to bring it out of him.

You pop Jungkook’s cock from your mouth. Messily, saliva coats his thigh and a bit of your chest, but sex isn’t always clean.

Before Jungkook has time to react, you’re in his lap, again.

“Y/N-”

Jungkook doesn’t manage to speak before you’re sinking down on him. His eyes widen at the feel of your warm cunt gripping around his cock. So wet and tight - Jungkook ponders if he’s somehow managed to die and has gone to heaven.

Jungkook snaps out of his hallucination to place his hands onto your hips. “I-I-” he begins, cheeks becoming warm as he glances down to where you and he are connected fully. “-are we not supposed to wear a condom?” he questions low. 

Jungkook doesn’t even have a condom, he then remembers. This was a church retreat, after all. The more he remembered where he was at and what he was doing, the more he thought about how long he was going to have to pray for forgiveness.

“Don’t have any.” you murmur - uncaring - soft hands on his shoulders. You push him back a bit. “I’m on birth control.”

Jungkook’s chest continues to rise and fall rapidly as goosebumps form onto his skin.

“Is that okay?” your hips rise just to fall once more, knowing full and well that Jungkook wasn’t going to push you away.

Jungkook gasps. His fingernails dig into your skin. “Yes,” he says hastily. “it’s ok-kay.”

“Good.”

The smile you give Jungkook is so wholesome.

That’s until you begin to drop the sweet girl act and use Jungkook’s cock - the same cock you’ve wanted inside you since the very first day - to your advantage.

You buckle your hips, pouncing against him with little care. His cock is so deep, springing in and out of you heavenly. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, has a hard time handling this. Your pussy is too tight for him to not moan beneath you. It’s too wet for him to not want to feel more and more of it as you bounce against him. But he understands that even though his room is further than everyone else's, that didn’t mean it was sound proof.

“Slow,” Jungkook begins, gripping your waist. He makes the mistake of opening his eyes to witness your bouncing breast right in his face. “-down,” Jungkook manages to let out. 

“Your cock feels so good, Kookie.” you moan, leaning closer to him so that you and him are face to face and now chest to chest. 

Jungkook shudders. His right hand slides up your back, wanting to hold you closer to him. “I don’t want us to get caught.” he moans. He wanted  to savor this moment - and everything else after this. Getting caught wasn’t an option for him. “Your pussy feels good, too.”

Church boy Kookie and his dirty words had gotten better over the last few days - you had to give yourself a pat on the back for making him comfortable enough. His hushed tone added to the affect, your walls tightening around his cock more.

“Remember what you said the other day?” you ask, grinding your hips as your lips peck the corner of his mouth. “That you thought about the ways you wanted to fuck me?”

Jungkook nods his head. His hand has a mind of its own so while his right is on the low of your back, his left dips down to feel your ass in his palm.

“Tonight,” you begin, pecking his lips. “I’ll be mild. Next time I want you to fuck me in whatever way you want.”

You were going to be the death of him, Jungkook thinks. Something in his mind - so small and deep - tells him that this was wrong. He shouldn’t be doing this with you during a church retreat out of all places, but his desire for you outweighs whatever discernment he has.

“However I want?” Jungkook couldn’t help but ask. He’s prayed about it before, asking for forgiveness for thinking about you so disrespectfully as what he wanted to do to you was anything but holy.

You nod your head, picking up the pace. You lean away from him, both of your feet laying against his bed as you begin to pounce. Up and down, up and down - Jungkook couldn’t keep his eyes away from your body. Your wet cunt dripping with arousal all over him to the way your breast bounces in similar rhythm.

“Whatever dirty fantasies you keep hidden in your mind,  I’d  let you do to me.” you look right into his eyes as you speak, casting a spell upon him that Jungkook is fixed on you and you alone.

“Fuck.” Jungkook lets out, his stomach tightening at just the thought of being able to do whatever he wants with you - unholy acts that he was told were bad for the majority of his life. Adrenaline flows through him and without thinking, his hips begin to buckle to meet you halfway. “You’re…you’re such…”

You moan when Jungkook begins to thrust along with you, his cock hitting you even deeper. You were unlocking something in him you knew he possessed.

“...such a whore I’ve been told about all my life.”

Did you have a degradation kink, you think? The way your pussy tightens around his cock at being called a whore by Jungkook - the once soft spoken man who would apologize for even looking at you the wrong way. Now, his eyes are dark and unapologetic, his hips buckling to bury his cock deeper into you.

“Flee from sexual immorality,” Jungkook recants the verse he’s been told time and time again for years. “Every other sin a person commits is outside the body, but the seuxally immoral person sins against his own body.”

Maybe you were a whore. Why did that make you even hornier?

“Ever since you come into my life, all I can think about is fucking you.” Jungkook admits, his eyes glaring at you - but not because he hates that you brought a side out of him that he has buried deep within. “All I ever want to do is bury my face between your legs and taste your sweet pussy against my tongue.”

You’re left speechless - since when could he speak this dirty? You hadn’t noticed that you stopped bouncing and allowed Jungkook to take control until the room grew louder with skin slapping.

“You don’t know how hard it is to keep these thoughts about you out of my mind. Praying them away doesn’t work.”

Jungkook feels a shiver down his spine as he continues to thrust, nails digging into your skin. 

“The best way to get rid of the thoughts is to speak of them aloud.” you murmur, managing to hold his gaze. His cock is drilling into you in a pace that only someone like him - who finds the gym and exercising fun - could do.

“I don’t think you want to hear them.” Jungkook murmurs, his own eyes unblinking. He swallows as there’s now a churn in abdomen. “I still respect you, Y/N.”

It’s amazing how Jungkook can switch entirely, from being the church boy you know to the hot, degrading man who he traps away.

“Get up,” Jungkook rasps. “I don’t want to cum-”

“Just cum in me.” you state, tightening your thighs to keep him trapped between you. You proceed to wrap your arms around his neck to keep him close. “I want to feel it.”

Jungkook shudders once more. His eyes squeeze shut as his cock ruts in and out of you, hitting a sweet spot that causes you to moan with each thrust. He wasn’t going to last long and by the way you’re whimpering, neither were you.

With a few more desperate thrusts, warm cum fills you entirely. Jungkook’s thighs shake as he covers your wet walls with sticky cum, the feeling entirely euphoric that there’s no way that he hasn’t died and gone to heaven already.

You hum softly, the feeling of being full of him causes warmth to fill your body. You lay limp against him, your chest against his.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks a few moments later as his cock begins to soften. “I don’t think you’re a whore.”

You laugh when you hear the hesitance in his voice. You roll off of him and lay beside him. “I know you don’t.” you murmur. “Are you okay?”

Jungkook blinks a few times before nodding his head. 

“You sure?” you ask, turning to face him. “Doesn’t this, like, go against whatever you believe in?”

Jungkook closes his eyes. “Well,” he begins, a bit amused. “I’ve sinned since the first day I got here. I prayed after every time.”

You laugh aloud, wrapping an arm around him.

“I hope we weren’t too loud.” Jungkook does the same, holding you close. He isn’t sure he can handle the judgmental stares from everyone if they knew what was going on. “Are you going to give me the first two digits of your number now?”

You close your eyes and yawn. “Not a chance.” 

Jungkook cracks a smile, he isn’t upset. He enjoyed a good game - even if it meant calling dozens of phone numbers if it meant that he would eventually find yours.

@investedreader @luvbug089 @azaood @smoljimjim @hoseokteardrop @sappy033 @renassaincesblog @myjungkookthighs @sweetlifeofjoy @iheeafkp @emmie2308

[iixch]

☆ iixch production

Sweet Tea & Southern Drawl

synopsis: Cowboy!Simon AU has been rotting my brain and now I hope it will rot yours too. Here are some of my Cowboy!Simon Headcanons

warning: cursing and hot southern drawl

Cowboy!Simon is the type of man that will never allow your hand to touch the handle of a car or door while you’re dating him. Can you imagine? No, no, no, not while he’s around.

“Let me get that for you, lass,” He says quick as he steps up to the door of the store before your in hands reach.

“Thank you, Si.” You say chuckling at his chivalry, his hand quick to wrap back around your waist as you both walk in.

“Course.” He says as he follows in his habit of looping his thumb through the belt loops of your jean and tugging you into his side.

You thought you knew a possessive man, well that’s before Cowboy!Simon. God forbid a man looks at you with anything but a cordial gaze.

“I’d appreciate it if ya kept your’ tongue in your mouth, and your eyes off my lady.” He says after a sip of beer and bringing the bottle down from his lips, leaning against the bar.

You and him had gone to a bar with some friends, and while you were enjoying yourself in conversation at the table, Cowboy!Simon went to the bar to order a drink. Hence when he caught this little fucker staring at you with drool on his lips.

The man quick to dodge his eyes from your figure, to the 6’2 glaring male. “Well, dressin’ like that? She’s asking for it, ain’t she.”

He has to chuckle- has too, if he didn’t, he might’ve just slammed that man’s head into the corner table. “My lady, can dress however the fuck she wants, cause she got a man that can fight.” He says crossing his arms over his chest, purposely flexing his biceps that are tightly dressed under a black flannel top, no longer leaning, but standing up straight. “Can you?”

The man was quick to pay his tab and exit the premises, a wise choice.

Under his gruff demeanor, rough skin, broad shoulders and fixed glare-Cowboy!Simon was a lover boy. That’s how his mama taught him to be, and thanks to her, he knew how to treat his woman.

Never was he not a listening ear.

You had had a terrible day, and felt the anxiety and stresses of the week pilling onto you when you called Cowboy!Simon. He was currently fixing the padlock for one of his pastures, but did that stop him from answering your call? No the hell it did not. He put his phone on speaker and worked on fixing the fencing as he listened to you vent to him.

“Si… what’s that banging sound in the background?” You ask him sniffling as post rant you finally realize the sound coming from his end if the call.

“It’s nothing, luv, just fixing something. But you were telling me about what happened to you at lunch, i’m listenin’.” He said prompting you to continue.

You suddenly felt guilty for the time you r taken up, and bring inconveniencing him. “If you’re busy right now, we can talk later. It’s okay-”

He puts down his tools and grabs the phone. “I just finished it, i’m free. Talk to me baby.”

That padlock still isn’t fixed to this day.

[emmiesoverthemoon]

munch status

pairing: ot8 x reader

word count: 1.2k

summary: mtl of who enjoys face sitting based from vibes. (im correct)

tags: established relationships. smutty/suggestive content. enjoy

dt @makeitworse @burlesquerade

changbin: most likely

changbin lives to please. he also lives for any given opportunity to show off his strength, so him showing you he can take all your weight and get you off simultaneously? sign him the fuck up. he wants it slow, fast, rough, gentle, however the hell you want him, you got it. he wants you weak above him while he grabs at your trembling thighs like you're a blessing he's undeserving of. he moans and groans into your pussy like he's attempting to fuse himself with you, face buried, and completely ruined by how close you are to him. his hands don't stop moving—gripping, guiding, kneading—and he never wants it to end. he loves being your throne. your pleasure is more important than his own, it's his reward. he's 100% the man who says that if he were to suffocate under you it'd be the most ideal way to go.

felix

felix practically begs for it, leading you into a position with soft praise and a teasing tongue that makes your head spin. he's focused, but keeps eye contact whilst murmuring of how good you taste, how gorgeous you are above him. he cradles your hips tightly like they're his last tether grounding him to earth and encourages you to ride him with abandon. he loves when you use him as your personal plaything, it gets him off to feel the weight of your trust, your body, your desperation. pull away after finishing because it's all just too much? best believe he's pulling you back down, swearing up and down that you can handle just one more. spoiler: it's never just one more. he's so pussy drunk off of you that he could be down between your thighs for the rest of his life. whether that be while sat on your face, you on your back, whatever. he doesn't care. pleasing you is his life's purpose. his devotion.

chan

chan will pull you down by your thighs while having this look in his eyes like he knows exactly what he's doing. his pupils dilate at the image of you straddling above him; flushed, panting, using him for your own gain. he will never tear his eyes away because watching you fall apart because of him is his favourite part. his hands are firm and guiding, and when he can tell your stamina is wearing out he will do it himself, using said strong hands to rock you against him with relentless purpose. he's obsessed with the feeling of your thighs around his head, your hands in his hair, the control that he chooses to give you, the indignity of it all. he wants it messy. he wants it loud. he will not let you escape once he has you there until he's satisfied.

han

han is a talkative, loud, needy mess. he'll beg for you to do it and once you do? he throws himself back on the bed, wide eyes filled with childlike glee, ready for your pussy to smother every word he has to say. he whimpers a plethora of babble; how hot you look in such a state, how he wants to drown in you, how close he is to cumming in his pants from you having him at your mercy, how he loves when you grind on him to get yourself off. he wants you sitting fully on him so much so that you may break him, just so he can prove he can take it. he loses his breath quickly, not from tiring, from devouring, from being soso hard from your weight on him, the sounds you make, and the sounds your pussy makes with every move. he's chaotic in his worship, his nails claw welts in your thighs, his hips rut in the air, his head is hazy from the way you take yourself on him. he'll lose his mind at the taste of you every damn time. he’s an addict.

hyunjin

hyunjin prefers to have you on your back and his head between your legs, so that he can use his strength to pin you down and entirely at his mercy. so he can easily look into your face and see how your soul unravel on his tastebuds upon every stripe his tongue draws. but, if you were to ask, he would be crazy to say no to you. he will whisper nothings as he lays back, poising you over him gently, and once he makes contact he groans like he's been awaiting this moment since the second he woke up that very morning. he starts off mouthing you slow, letting out soft moans, his gentle hands rubbing your thighs and hips, enhancing your pleasure. but once you move a little more erratically, moan in a slightly higher pitch, his control completely frays at the seams. he indulges himself completely, mumbling filthy phrases while pulling you down and keeping you there. he lets his mouth on you do the talking until he is done with caring for every inch of you.

jeongin

jeongin, like hyunjin, prefers to have you on your back while he enjoys his meal. but not entirely for the same reasons as him, per-se. he gets flustered even thinking about the concept of you in that position on top of him. despite his embarrassment, he just wants to do what you want him to, so of course he’ll lay beneath you nonetheless. he'll act unsure at first, but the second you settle atop him, something in him clicks. he's sensitive to your every sound, every twitch. he starts of slow, like he's entering uncharted territory, but once he's relaxed and familiar? once a few teasing, coaxing grinds on your part pull him out of his shell? he becomes relentless—eating you out like he's trying to prove that he can, even when he's trembling beneath you. he'll forget to breathe while doing his job, it’s not like he cares, he isn't important to him right now—you are. once you're finished, he'll look up at you with teary eyes, flushed red skin, and glistening mouth and chin like you just ruined him in the best way possible, awaiting you to tell him he did a good job.

minho

minho will never ask for it, he'll make you beg. and even then, he may say something about how you really want him to suffocate? he's all sarcasm, all eyerolls from him until you actually agree with him. then? silence. hands grasping your hips, lifting you and placing you above him. his groans are soft and desperate, once you skip past his "reluctance" he's all in. he starts slow, dragging his tongue through your pussy like he has all the time in the world, his hands gripping on your ass tight enough to leave bruising to hold you still when you become needy for more. he may be under you, but you will get off when he wants you to. he makes you earn your orgasm, even in this position. when he does want you to, he lets you do as you please, occasionally helping if you beg. he quietly likes being used, if only so he can tease you of how wet you made his face after you're done.

seungmin: least likely

seungmin is the least enthused in theory. he's a man that's all talk; snarky, deadpan, unimpressed, asking if he should draft a will before you pop a squat—but when it actually happens, his body betrays him. he’s not the biggest fan of being smothered, but he adores when you lose control—even just a little bit. afterwards, he will definitely tease you, asking if you had “had fun up there,” or about how he “almost died”, or something like that just so that he can piss you off. despite any backtalk he may have, he’s pretty much silent during the act surprisingly—he’s locked in. he’s focused, dedicated, and thorough with what he does. he’s doing it for you, and you feel it in how steady and patient he becomes while underneath your body.

taglist (ask to be added here): @petersasteria @gdinthehouseee @aizshallnotbefound @burlesquerade @floofeh-purpi @ldydeath @wcnderlnds @ttturnitup @breakmeoff @sherrayyyyy @ricecake9999 @leni111 @scream-queen-25 @spiritualgirly444 @fairyprincesslvr21 @loonybunny1 @uuchii @sherxoo @m-325 @slut4junho

[linderosse]

For me, Link and Zelda from the Skyward Sword story are my favorite versions, I really like this kind of doomed love, but I always felt that Zelda's character had more room to develop. Like, can she remember her past memories of being a goddess? Does she feel guilty for taking advantage of Link? Will she be able to get along with the rest of her companions as she once did when she returns to Skyloft? or will her people begin to worship her as a true god? And Link, what would he think?

This is a very, very good question!!!

I’ve been saving it in my inbox for quite a while— but now I finally get to answer it.

Sun is a complex character for sure.

She’s Hylia reborn; the incarnation of the goddess who fought the first Imprisoning War. She remembers most of it— the war, and how it ended. But like she says in the game, she’s also still herself; still sunshine and clouds and freedom and sass; still the same Zelda that Sky fell in love with. She is both at once, and that kind of contradiction has the potential to weigh someone down.

Fortunately, Sun in Wisdomverse has had a lot of time since her adventure to figure out how she feels about her new/old identity. She’s long since made peace with that duality, and is comfortable being both Hylia and Zelda.

However, various others across the eras may react to her differently because of her identity as the goddess Hylia.

Let’s go over them!

(Warning: This is pretty long, but I had a lot of fun writing it. Enjoy!

And don’t worry, there’s a tl;dr at the end for the folks who want it. :)

The people of Skyloft

I’d say most everyone is now aware that Sun is Hylia reborn. Some of the townsfolk do revere her as a goddess, but others treat her mostly the same. Sun usually prefers that, since it can be difficult to form connections when people put you on a pedestal. Her closest friends know that, and hang out with her as normal.

Sun also makes an effort to be a leader as well as a goddess. Her status as an incarnation of Hylia gives her an advantage, but she still has to work to earn people’s trust— especially with a proposition as bold as moving to the world below. Right now, she’s focused on building a life for her people on the surface. More on that in Wisdomverse :).

Wild

This is also why, in the Wild|Sun comic, Sun refers to the past actions of the goddess in third person. Wild knows that Sun’s the reincarnation of Hylia (in TotK, the goddess statues’ voice will remind him of her). But Sun doesn’t want to remind him of that at the moment; doesn’t want her identity as the goddess to put distance between them.

Still, when Sun speaks, she does so with the authority of Hylia herself. She can truly attest to Hylia’s faith in the heroes who share the spirit of the man she loves. Wild knows that, and appreciates the reassurance.

Sky

Sky has long since forgiven Sun for “using him.” He doesn’t regret the adversity he faced, and he would do it again in a heartbeat. Sun was always a goddess to him.

But Sun hasn’t fully forgiven herself for Hylia’s plan; for leveraging Sky’s emotions to get what she needed and save the world. She reckons a fragment of that guilt will always be lodged in her soul.

Flora

Wild is at least mildly religious, but Flora is not. Flora believes that the goddess existed, of course, but she no longer prays to her, and prefers to live life on her own terms.

Flora hasn’t yet worked out what to think of Sun as a goddess, now that they’ve met. They’re friends, and they still hang out, but that internal tension still pulls at Flora— the question of “For all those years, why didn’t you help me?” Wild privately thinks that the goddess tried; and was able to help Flora release her abilities when it mattered most. But that isn’t enough for Flora. Flora has currently compartmentalized it— treating Sun and Hylia as two different people. Eventually, though, Flora will need to search for answers: with Sun, and within herself. Sun does not know that Flora feels this way.

Wild again

For that matter, it was probably really strange for Wild, the first time he met Sun. Kind of like if a mildly religious modern Christian got to have a chat and go skydiving with Jesus. I’m not Christian, but I am religious, so I can imagine how weird but potentially cool that might be.

This is actually a thing for a lot of Links and Zeldas in Wisdomverse/LU; many of them get to meet their heroes. Dawn meeting Fable for the first time probably felt something like an American meeting George Washington— same thing with Hyrule and Legend, or Legend and Four.

Of course, there’s a bit of tension there for some of the other pairs, due to relevant events. It’ll be fun exploring that when the time comes— in both The Secrets We Keep, and in Wielders of Wisdom :).

Tl;dr:

In short, it’s clear that Sun remembers.

In Wisdomverse, she has access to some of the memories and a portion of the powers she did as Hylia (like the sealing ability she used in Wielders of Wisdom Ch1), but she prefers people to treat her as Zelda most of the time.

Sky has forgiven her for using him, but Sun hasn’t forgiven herself. Wild thinks she’s cool, and Flora has a bit of repressed frustration about her. The people of Skyloft appreciate her, but still wouldn’t blindly follow what she says.

Sun is both Hylia and herself at once, and comfortable in that identity.

She’s one person— she’s Zelda— and that’s enough for her :).

Masterpost

[swiftiesdestiel]

byler fic recommendations because why not:

— i know the end by bookinit • stranger things retelling

my favourite byler fic ever. So beautifully written and idk i feel like it made me understand the show more as well

— some sort of ripple effect by sylvianightshade • “Mike & Will have a long overdue conversation on the way back to Hawkins— by, in, and around a random motel pool.”

takes place in the two-day timeskip between Mike’s monologue and the Cali gang arriving in Hawkins. Sooo amazingly written and one of my faves, idk this fic is so *chef’s kiss*

— touch like velvet by ciders • “It was easy for Will Byers to fall in love with Mike Wheeler.

The trouble came when he had to pretend it wasn't real.”

pretty sure almost the entire byler fandom has already read this one but oh well, normally i’m not the biggest AU fic-fan but this one was AMAZING. Again — so beautifully written, and the story was so good

— he likes it scalding by CastleByersAfterDark • mike and will take a bath together

this one was sooo cute & (i’ll keep on saying it) very well-written😛

— (give me a second to) forget i ever really meant it by delusionaltogether (Whyyyyy) • “Practice makes perfect, especially when the person you're practicing with is your best friend.” (aka byler kissing practice fic)

kissing practice fics can NEVER go wrong honestly, this was such a sweet little fanfic and i had so much fun reading it

— It will always be you. by peachluv • “After a thoughtful talk and subsequent breakup with El, Mike has to renavigate his friendship with Will and the overwhelming feelings that come with it.”

a new favourite of mine!! it’s such a comfort fic even tho it’s a little angsty at one point. kind of felt like a breath of fresh air cause it doesn’t really focus on the upside down stuff that much, it was incredibly well-written aswell !!!

——> (a slight warning for emetophobes tho cause there is some v*miting in there, however as an emetophobe myself i could just skip over the more graphic stuff and it was completely fine 🫶)

— To Hell and Back Again by perexcri • “Mike and Will's Apocalypse Romcom Spectacular” - Mike follows Will into the upside down because he’s set on finding out what that painting meant, and why Will lied about it.

another fanfic that probably the entire fandom has already read, but whatever. I’m always down for a byler upside down fic and that’s exactly what that is + it’s a slow burn, so what else do we want??

— said that i was fine, said it from my coffin by ruetistic • byler wound cleaning fic

cute & kind of sad but also just…… cute☺️ honestly can never go wrong with a wound cleaning fic!!

— Mike Wheeler and the G-Word by lunii_vii • “Everyone realizes at their own times that Mike Wheeler is queer, but leave him to figure it out himself.”

Really fun and lighthearted fic, enjoyed reading this a lot!!

— and the shame was on the other side by andiewriteordie • “a character study on Mike Wheeler, his feelings of fear, shame, and inadequacy, and how he finds freedom from that.” - a flickergate fic

Nice little flickergate fanfic, honestly one of my favourite byler theories so this was fun to read :)

— ౨ৎ —

happy reading 💌

[ejudollz]

📼 matcha powder - murata fuma .MP4

🐇ᯓ★ tape contents ⋆˚𖦹 fuma isn't normally the type to be submissive in a relationship, however you saw that as a challenge. things are so new for fuma but he's so willing to try things out for you. you're making it your mission to turn him into the most perfect sub.

𐙚🧸 content warnings ₊˚⊹ ᰔ 18+, sub fuma, dom reader, f reader, light subspace, edging, mentions of safe words (not used), usage of colors, finger sucking, nipple play, unprotected sex, cumming inside, fuma gets called bunny (he's me 😳), bunny doesn't know how to end fics pls tune out right before it ends, wc / 3,173

🐰ᯓᡣ𐭩 authors note ⋆˚ finally.. she writes.. it's been so long since i have written anything and this is my first full length fic on this blog and actually for &team in general!! im so excited to finally be sharing something that im at least semi proud of and im excited to fully showcase how i see the boys in my own characterization!! i hope you all enjoy and i hope to write more soon!! / ©byshens (layout)

fuma’s thoughts fog over in a way he'd never felt before. this wasn't a usual feeling of mental exhaustion or a simple mind slip.. instead, this was something very unfamiliar, something he wasn’t used to in the slightest. his hands gripped at the sheets beneath him, a low groan refocusing him on the scene before him. 

this was so new for him, he was torn between feeling scared, anxious, unsure.. he didn’t even know if he should be intrigued and aroused, maybe all of the above? honestly he couldn't even make out what the current feeling was that possessed him.

his body was exhausted, needing and craving release so badly, he’d never craved such a simple sensation so badly before. normally he'd be able to handle a lot sexually, but giving up his sense of control proved to be very different in all ways possible. 

fuma's was single for a bit of time, more focused on his career and his goals than anything else. he wanted to perfect his craft, build his body while he was still young, and achieve milestones in any way he could. 

although he’d been single for quite a while he can recall the way he usually takes on a role where he's in control. normally he's the type to take care of his partner, both in the relationship as well as sexually and that’s what he had gotten used to. he loves it, he's a giver at heart and feels very fulfilled doing so. however, you provided something different, you showed him something new, something he never thought he would take part in. fuma was able to explore different aspects of himself sexually which provided him with new feelings and sensations. 

nobody has ever made fuma feel the way that you do. not even in a cliche romantic way either, he has literally never been able to cum as hard as he does when you're touching him and taking care of him. when your hands are in his hair and working over his body it feels like his body isn’t even his anymore.  

you never imagined you'd make it this far with him, it brings you this sense of power looking at the boy in front of you. you'd never heard him sound like this before, his voice breathy and raspy, every noise sounding almost like a gasp slipping past his lips. now fuma’s a vocal person, he has been since you started having sex with him but he hasn’t let noises this sweet sounding pass his lips before. 

fuma has been so good for you since he decided to let you take over, you knew it would be a lot of responsibility to have someone like him in your control. you assumed he’d be a sweetheart, but he fully gives himself to you, his curiosity always allowing you to do as you please. it was shocking just how willing he is to allow you this much control. you've come to find out that he's so pretty when vulnerable and his body had so much to offer. 

you flicked your finger over his nipple, smiling at the way he bit down on his lip, furrowing his eyebrows tightly. you'd edged him quite a few times already, his cock and face flushing similar shades of red. he was sat directly in front of you, fully unclothed and exposed to you. part of him wanted to press his thighs together but the other part of him so badly wanted to be seen. anyone can tell he’s got such a beautiful body but being on display for you, having his body readily accessible like this was so different. 

fuma loves the contrast of you being clothed while he was out on display like this, he loved the restraint of not seeing you fully and having to rely on his imagination of what’s under your clothes. the contrast heightens the feeling of you having more of an advantage over him and it immerses him even more in the scene.

“my pretty bunny.. just so needy, aren’t you?” you notice the way fuma’s gaze is a bit hazy, his eyes unfocused as he looks at you. he nods eagerly, swallowing hard with an exasperated noise. you smiled at him and cupped his face, not missing the way he nuzzles into your touch a bit. he’s just so obedient, you can’t even believe the sight in front of you.

your hand was wrapped steadily around his thick length, you tightened your grip on him slightly as you looked into his eyes. “fuma.. focus for me baby.. gonna make you feel good okay?” his hands searched for you to brace himself, he gripped at your thigh gently and breathed out a shaky breath, just barely remembering to nod at the end. 

he couldn’t fully focus no matter how hard he tried, his breathing was a bit laboured and his body was seeming more tired than normal. “you doing okay bun? need a break?” fuma’s the type to keep taking everything you give him so graciously without putting himself first. having him as your sub required you to take care of him in ways that others may not require but you were more than happy to do so.

he just shook his head but you released his length, holding his chin up and helping his gaze find yours with the hand that was just wrapped around him. it was so lewd and a little dirty but it drove fuma even crazier once he thought about it fully. “use your words. are you okay? do you need me to stop for a little bit?” you’d never seen him get like this, he’s normally able to hold himself together with ease. while he looked sexy like this you are aware of how new this is for him so you were being extra cautious.

the boy in front of you gave a slight dopey smile, which made you laugh. he shook his head in your grasp, “mm.. wanna keep going..” you nodded at this, but began stalling the slightest bit, just to give him a small break anyways. you wordlessly placed a hand to his chest and gently pushed him down flat on the bed. you were sat beside the boy just watching him process his surroundings. fuma stared up at the ceiling for a second, blinking dumbly before turning his head towards you, he looked so pretty and fucked out right now. 

his hands slowly came to your arm, wrapping around the wrist of your hand that had previously been teasing him so much. you just watched him, holding eye contact as he slowly lifted your fingers up to his mouth. he’d never done this before, your eyes widened as he slipped your middle and ring finger past his lips. you nearly moaned at this as he began softly sucking and moaning around your fingers. you could feel the bass of his voice vibrating on your skin. 

“ohh.. such a good boy, fuma..” you played in his hair for a moment, taking in the way he stared up at you with his pretty round sparkly eyes. his hair strands were stickling to his forehead slightly, sweat beading up on his forehead. you decided to test the waters, your fingers slightly pressing down against his tongue as you scratched gently along his chest with your free hand. he shuddered under you a bit, you could tell you caught him a little off guard by the way he bit down slightly on your fingers. fuma rolled his hips up into nothing, his body squirmed senselessly at the throbbing between his legs. 

“should i touch you now? tell me how much you want it..” you noticed fuma's desperation rising so you decided it's time to finally give him what he so badly needs. 

“please..” he nods his head quickly, his words coming out muffled around your fingers. you waited for more but he stopped, trying to keep the saliva in his mouth from slipping out all around your fingers. 

you retracted your hand, allowing whatever he was trying to keep in to drip out. “hm.. must not want it that bad. maybe we should stop here?” you wiped your fingers on the bed beside fuma, faking like you were going to stand up. 

“no! please.. mm.. want it so bad.. need it.. please..” fuma appeared frantic and his voice matched his appearance. his eyes were round and full of need, you almost felt bad for joking with him like that. he looked completely disheveled and he reached for you, holding onto your arm to keep you from leaving. “i need you, y/n.” 

“okay bunny.. i'll take care of you.. what do you say if we need to stop?” he lights up a bit, his chest rising and falling quickly, “pineapple..” you nod with a smile, almost like you’re showing him that you’re proud.

“how do you want me to make you cum? i'll let you pick since you were such a good boy.” you slightly sink your nails into the skin of his thigh, dragging your nails downward as you waited for him to speak. 

every little touch was a challenge for him, he couldn't focus with your hands anywhere on him. he squeezed his eyes shut and sighed heavily, trying to refocus the fog that takes over his mind currently. he's so cute like this, he just seems so so pathetic. 

“wanna be inside of you.. wanna feel you.. please..” you nod at him while you stand up, facing fuma who's eyes won't leave your body. he’s so attentive to you, eyes hooded and so focused on every one of your movements. if he weren’t so foggy in the head he would be praising you for everything you do.

fuma attempts to sit up, normally he helps you get undressed.. he loves being able to feel your skin and slowly peel your clothes off of your body. but this time you stop him, telling him to just let you show off for him for a moment. he blinks slowly at you, sitting up on his elbows as best as he can so he doesn’t miss a single moment of what’s happening in front of him.

you move slowly as you get undressed, just the way fuma likes it. he loves the suspense of your skin slowly becoming more visible to him. you start with your bottoms, hooking your thumbs under the fabric of your pants, leaving your underwear untouched. slowly, you work your way out of your bottoms. fuma’s eyes fall to your hips, drool pooling in his mouth immediately. his eyes are locked on your panties, its one of his favorite pairs that were so patiently waiting to be revealed to him.

you threw your pants to the side and climbed on the bed with him, once again placing a hand on fuma’s muscular chest, but this time to brace yourself. you wasted no time resting your weight in his lap, noticing the way he sucks in a breath at the slight friction you caused. 

he stares up at you with big round eyes, so patiently waiting for you to say something. “undress me.” fuma moved quicker than you could finish your sentence, hands moving under your shirt and resting on your hips. his hands are big and on the rougher side, you shivered at the feeling of his skin on yours. 

he looked into your eyes as he pulled your shirt off of your body, biting his bottom lip a bit when he looked back down to your chest. he pulled you close, nose pressing against your body as he breathed in the scent of your body wash and perfume. he groaned against you, hands moving up your body and finding the hook of your bra. fuma’s eyes were closed as he rested against your chest, his cheek felt so soft on you.

the clasp of your bra came undone, fuma’s nails gently ran over your skin at this. he was taking every moment possible to admire you, to enjoy this closeness. fuma snuck in a few kisses, peppering small pecks against your chest before pulling away and revealing your breasts to himself. his breath hitches in his throat as he stares, your bra quickly being discarded elsewhere. 

“please..” his voice is a mere whisper, almost like he was trying not to let you hear him. “please what?” you run your hands through his hair, holding him close to you. he seems a little puzzled, like he was shocked that you heard him. he swallowed hard before speaking, “please ride me..”

you wordlessly lift up in his lap, running your fingers through your warm wet folds. you’d gotten quite turned on by this point as well. you pulled your panties to the side, lining yourself up with fuma’s tip. he could feel the heat radiating off of you, he couldn’t take it already, he needed you so bad. 

you push your fingers into his mouth, allowing him to taste the sweetness that coated your fingers. he groaned around your fingers, torn between shutting his eyes and watching you line yourself up. with your free hand you rubbed his leaking tip between your folds, letting out a moan in unison with fuma’s muffled noises. he closes his mouth a little harder around your fingers, bracing himself a bit for what he’s so desperately wanted.

you sink down on fuma’s cock, your gummy walls instantly pulsating around his thicker shaft. you gasp at the feeling, not previously realizing how sensitive you’d feel. fuma groans, his eyes shutting and his body tensing under you. you fully bottom out on top of him, sitting with him fully inside of you. you pull your fingers from fuma’s mouth and look in his eyes once more.

fuma’s expression his perfect, his eyes are sparkling, his lips are plump and swollen, his face is slightly covered by his fringe, but its clear enough for you to still see him. he looks absolutely euphoric right now as you move your fingers into his hair. 

you tug slightly, using the grip you have on his hair in order to control things better. your hips roll in fuma's lap, the feeling of him inside of you making you moan out. 

finally you start moving, slowly dragging yourself up and down his length. fuma’s hands fly to your hips, his hands immediately gripping at your skin. he craved this moment so much, his whines and gasps showed you this so much. 

you waste no time picking up your pace, the sound of you slamming down in fuma's lap fills the room. he leans forward into you, grasping at you anyway that he could. he couldn't hold himself together no matter how hard he tried. you let go of his hair, placing kisses all over his face and hearing the way he whines. 

his upper half suddenly felt too heavy for him to hold himself up. he rested his body fully, hands tangling in his own hair to replace your own hands. his hands fall from your hips, gripping at the sheets instead. 

this is the fastest fuma has come undone under you, his body tensing up and his moans getting caught in his throat. “cu.. c..” his voice trails off into moans each time he tries to talk but it's clear what he's trying to say. 

you place your hand around his throat, applying the tiniest amount of pressure. his moans sound gritty and rough, the volume of his voice finally catching up to him. he swallows hard a couple of times, trying to get his voice out again. 

“go ahead bunny.. fill me up.. let it go, handsome..” fuma fully malfunctions at your words, it feels like his brain short circuits in this moment. he sucks in a breath and doesn't let go, body stiffening up once again under you. 

you feel his warm cum begin to fill your walls, his cock twitching inside of you. a high pitched whine finally comes out of him, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. 

he starts breathing ruggedly, his hips stuttering slightly. you don't stop moving, helping him fully finish his orgasm. fuma's sweating and breathless, so pretty under you. you let him catch his breath a tiny bit, watching as he swallows hard. 

you run your hand up and down his chest, smiling so sweetly, “gotta use you just a little more..” you begin to pick your pace up once again, hips very slowly moving. fuma's cum is dripping out, pooling in his lap below you. 

it takes him a second to reply, he's looking up at the ceiling again, a content expression on his face. “sorry.. came too fast..” you shook your head even though he wasn't looking at you, “it's okay.. doing so well for me. what's your color baby?” 

he looks at you now, still smiling slightly, “green.. wanna see you cum..” you admired his strong he was being.. takes everything so graciously and is always ready for more. 

you let out a sound of approval, gently rocking your hips back and forth in his lap. fuma bites his lip, eyebrows furrowed tight on his forehead. your clit was throbbing at this point, you wanted to cum so bad now. 

you start to move up and down his length once again, grabbing fuma's hand and moving it to your clit. he starts sloppily rubbing circles on your clit, eager to make you feel good. you let out a satisfied moan, fuma's cum providing yourself extra lubricant. your pussy glides over him so easily, his thumb working on you. you feel your orgasm start to bubble up in your stomach. 

it doesn't take much longer for your orgasm to fully hit you, your pussy clenching around fuma. you're moaning as you ride out your orgasm, leaning down to place your lips on fuma's. he's moaning into your mouth as you ride him, his hands running over your body. 

you lean forward against him, catching your breath and letting your orgasm wash over you. he's still inside but you just stay like this for a while, listening to your own heartbeat. the boy brings his arms around you, holding you tight and keeping you close to him. this moment is weirdly comforting and reassuring. 

silence fills the room but it's not uncomfortable, you both just lay there and take everything in. fuma is turning out to be the most perfect sub, much better than you had originally expected. you couldn't wait to further mold him into the perfect boy for you. 

you lift up to admire fuma's features.. you're really so lucky to have him. he stares back at you with that same goofy smile from earlier, “i love you so much y/n..” you giggle at the sudden confession as you caress his face, “i love you more fuma.” you lean down to place a kiss on his lips, you couldn't ask for anything better.

[buckybarnesslutshop]

Hi guys! I’m on some Bucky bs again (if ur my moot, im lookin at you two, don’t even try to tell me to sleep rn we both know there’s only one way lol /hj) (your honor, it’s only 2 am!) But I’m feelin some stuff here we go

So anyways. Bucky is protective. Bucky is possessive. And Bucky is SO traumatized. I want to take care of him. I always grew up as the “mom friend” and generally assume that role everywhere I go, and despite the fact that I want him to take care of me, sometimes i’m like nah bro. Nah. Sit yo ass down I’m taking care of YOU.

So just imagine, let’s say he’s come home from work (you can decide if this is congressman, ceo, lawyer, mob, or whatever bucky you want) and it’s maybe mid week and it’s already been so tense. He’s got a lot on his plate. You guys, well maybe you’ve had a petty argument or maybe you’re fine, but regardless, you’re each other’s rocks.

So Bucky assumes, when you mention a shower together, that it’s sexual. He’s not mad, but he doesn’t plan to go many rounds. He wants to take care of you, but the second you get to the bathroom, you tell him to wait while you get the water running. He’s like oh ig I’m not in charge cool.

And then you get in. And you reach for his shampoo. and however you make the logistics work, you wash his hair. Scrubbing nice and softly, massaging his head. His eyes shut, mouth parted slightly as he just enjoys the sensation and lets go of his stress some.

“Fuck Doll this is so nice, feels like heaven. Can’t remember when I last relaxed like this,” he mutters, voice almost light. You’re on to conditioner now.

“That’s the point baby. You’re so stressed, you’ve got so much goin’ on. You need this. You deserve this,” you say.

And the rest of the night, you carefully and gently finish his hair with some product (get that wavy post end credit scene hair babes) and he didn’t realize it but you just washed the sheets, washed his favorite night time pajamas, and as he gets dressed, you make that calming tea he secretly likes. And he looks at you with those soft, no-longer-tense, loving eyes. And you just hold him. As long as he wants.

Yeah. I’m feelin soft tonight.

-S🌻

[6okuto]

TS Cast Celebrating Your Birthday

GN!Reader | most of this can be read platonically! reader often forgets their birthday or doesn't really celebrate (but implicitly wants to!!). solo chara and a few for all of them at the end ^__^

for reg my beloved @bananacockatiel oh my Goodness HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! YAHYAYHO

LEANDER

Doesn't matter how long he's known your birthday's coming up—maybe he's known for months, maybe you only mentioned it last week—this is the most uncasual guy ever. /affectionate /what's your problem. But I will say if you've known each other a while and he finds out with days to spare? It's kind of hilarious to see how much Leander's eyes widen and the panic that sets in for a second. Genuinely has no clue how he's fumbled this hard.

If you don't celebrate because of bad memories or emotions, he says he wants to make good ones for you instead. This is your day! You think you don't deserve the celebration or gifts? WRONG!!

Obviously if you don't enjoy big parties, he won't throw one. Saying this because out of all the LI's I think Leander is the only one to think of or really Capable of planning a big party himself. Cross out the idea to announce it's your birthday at the Wet Wick and say drinks are on him and that everyone who gives you a gift gets .. something cool.

But that doesn't mean he won't spoil you and give you everything you rightfully deserve!! You guys can spend the day together, even the week if you want! He promises he's completely and wholly yours, duties taken care of and handed off to trusted Adders.

He's calling in favours, charming his pants off (not literally), remembering everything and every place you've shown interest in. You don't even remember a third of them, but Leander does. He is LOCKED! IN!

By the sound of this you think you'd be overwhelmed. You probably are at first because you don't expect how much he's prepared, even knowing it's Leander, and you're not used to it. But Leander is nothing if not attentive and working for you! However much walking or social interaction etc is your limit, he works with it in mind, and is always willing to take breaks or, if you're out and about, go home if you'd like. You still have him after all :-) ;) /silly flirting but sincere promise.

Little magic show... Leander's the type of guy to take you to a hidden area and show off with pretty lights and magic and watch you with an affectionate smile. Type of guy to pull you to dance when there's no music so you both start singing. Etc.

If you're completely worn out from the day, he'll part with a final "Happy birthday" (and kiss), letting you go to bed. If you'd like him to join you, he's happy to cuddle you to bed too!

VERE

I couldn't have animal ears and a tail because my already shit poker face would be even worse. Him? Interested/invested in it being your birthday soon? Yes! Vere plays it off if it's just not really a big deal to you. But if it's because you haven't enjoyed your birthday in a long time, he has a longer pause of... contemplation...

Anyone think about how many shitty ones he's spent alone or working and how many he might've tried to make up for it?! 🤔

I think. He would want to do something/go some place special...? His initial thought isn't to just hang out for the day. That isn't good enough for him or for you!! I wouldn't put it past him to just be like. Be ready by 7 and dress nice. And you just have to trust him. As you always have to /lh /vere move

Type of guy to tell you to use your birthday to your advantage. Something something joke about a fake marriage proposal for double the free service before Vere reminds you that it'd be quite unbelievable to your audience that he'd be getting married, but he's flattered you were up for the idea

Vere sticks by your side at any crowded establishments/venues. This is one of the few times that, if he can't just call someone over, he'll tell you to stay sitting while he gets the drinks. I hope you're honoured to not only have his undivided attention for the night, but some of his service!

Vere picking up the bill ?! Voluntarily ?! Even declining your attempt to pay ?! Though if you want to give him the money feel free ;) /silly /he will not take your money put it Away!!

Art gift art gift! His soft spot for handmade gifts works here too!! Debating if I'm endeared more by Vere thinking of what to draw super easily because it's you, or erasing multiple ideas (like the drawing of Mhin) because. It's you.

Hah.. Vere trying to do something related to your hobbies (e.g. I don't know. crocheting a little guy. cooking.). struggling.. getting annoyed but also refusing to give up... it's totally because of his image and pride and not because he really cares about you of course obviously. His respect for your interest grows even more if he's particularly bad at it.

MHIN

"They don't know how to celebrate [their birthday] though, or if they even should..." Okayyyy. We got two peas in a pod here

They try to gauge/ask about how you feel about your birthday. Instinctively, they want to do something, but I think Mhin's the quickest to worry that maybe you really don't want that, or that their ideas wouldn't be...good (enough)... They also face the most turmoil about buying or making a gift.

When it comes to plans, Mhin keeps it lowkey. If they know you enjoy the others' company or are their friends, they (begrudgingly) mention your birthday because even if they hate Vere and can't stand being around Leander too long, your birthday is important! They'd like to see you happy :-)

Your birthday comes around... you've forgotten... Mhin greets you with a gift... you're like ?! What's the occasion.. For a second they panic like oh my god it isn't your birthday? Anyway it turns out fine and they Very Lightly chide you for forgetting with a sigh

They schedule the day so they don't have commission work to do, and also finish working early the days leading up to it to look for a gift. Luckily, they pay attention to your interests, so they easily pick through things and get something thoughtful!! No worries about that fr :3 (I can also see them making something!! It's just... looking at their schedule.. um.. Wow.)

They also write a heartfelt letter that they Don't let you open until you've separated because they're embarrassed. It isn't very long, but it's sweet!

They want to treat you to food and take you stargazing among other things, but they keep reminding you that if you'd like to do something else, you can. And you're like Mhin no this is really nice thank you and they're . . . . (blush sprite) but trust you're being honest

The cats... orz. While I'm fascinated by the thought of Mhin as a supernatural cat whisperer, I'm endeared by the idea that the cats are just more affectionate that day without prompting and you get to say They Knew! who can say you're wrong!!

Mhin gets food for you and the cats want a piece... they struggle to say no but this is one of those times that hey, this isn't for you... they gently bump cats away and try to keep the meal out of reach... and then you're like you can have a bit little buddy :3 and Mhin's like ?! ... Of course you would

KURAS

?! Insert surprised Kuras sprite here. He knows he's often busy working and doesn't see you as much as he wants, but your birthday is soon and he's only finding out now? Do you know how ironic it is that the guy who forgets his own birthday is shocked you forgot (to mention) yours btw. You're both pointing at each other like Hello?? Kuras concedes and says Fair point

I think. He's pretty confident in making plans himself. But I'm also not sure if he's super aware of local events or fancy restaurants with how.. his life is... so maybe he asks Leander or Ais or other visitors.

He probably still has to work for a portion of the day, but trust that he keeps thinking of you when he has the time to spare. As soon as Kuras sees you, he's smiling and asking how your birthday's been so far, not letting you worry about his day at work.

He's more talkative today! Consider his openness a birthday gift alone—talking about the history of places, little funny stories, things he's done that people would be shocked by. He's also interested in you sharing stories too, and I think. Few have heard Kuras laugh. And YOU can and will be one of the few today!! Trust.

I don't think Kuras's gift would be handmade but that could depend on the time he has. Not to say that handmade gifts are The best and only ones ever. Trust that he'd have mulled over the decision and chosen with a lot of care!! Handing it to you, he describes his thought process and reassures you that if you don't like it, you don't have to keep it.

If it isn't cold, you end the night with a walk by the river! Maybe you talk about your day, or you can just appreciate the view and walk quietly together. But as someone with a winter birthday, I recognize those who might be unlucky with the weather. Sob. In that case,... I'd hope you get to stay at one of your homes... I feel like Kuras wouldn't want to bring you to the clinic like. LOL. He'd be pretty apologetic about that

Iirc Kuras like, radiates. warmth/heat. or something. So if that's at all correct, if it gets chilly as you walk place to place, he stays closer to you! Or at least offers to do so. Walking through town holding hands with the handsome angel doctor... Think about that. Yeah

AIS

Guy who deeply understands not admitting you enjoy thoughtful gestures or want a party. Everyone here has issues.

He's very good at keeping his plans a secret and playing it cool! It helps that your birthday is barely on your mind, so he can dismiss things as chores or boredom. Plus y'know groupmind stuff something working together something. He's so good you might think he's forgotten, or is super super chill about it.

You're at the Seaspring... Princess is excited... You're like Did something happen? Ais stares. "You didn't forget, did you?" Yes you absolutely did. He jokingly rolls his eyes and like, pats your head or hands you a gift or something and says happy birthday.

If he knows you'd enjoy a surprise party or something with the others, he'll make sure to find some time in the evening (if you aren't already planning on going to the Wet Wick)! But your birthday always ends with just the two of you so you can wind down and relax.

I see him being adamant about you making a wish. Like it's almost weird but also this makes sense to me...? Not sure why. Something something having something to look forward to, it's cute, something something

Walk with me. Matching jewelry. That wouldn't be his only gift though. I think Ais would get you something that's Very You or very helpful, even unexpectedly so!! He noticed an issue or inconvenience you've been dealing with without you even complaining about it.

Mm. Not beneath him to do a little prank gift beforehand though. Less Exploding Glitter, more opening a box to a smaller box then a smaller one and smaller one.

Princess BRINGING YOU A GIFT!! wouldn't that be lovely I dream of this. You give Ais no credit despite the note with his handwriting and Princess looks soo happy and Ais is playfully offended

At the end of the night, he asks if this birthday made up for all the bad ones, or ones you've missed. He has a lighthearted tone, but you hear the genuine curiosity laced in his question. When you say yes, his smile softens into something more genuine. "Good. You deserve it."

ALL

Partyayyyy!! These are Vibes for sure. But they're all behaving themselves and being.. nice enough.. if they're all purposefully in the same space for a (relatively) long period of time,, that says something about you! Great and powerful influence!! Even if they're bickering, individually, I prOMISE they hope you have a good birthday!

If this is a modern AU you bet your ass Leander is going Group Picture/Selfie :D !! Now do a silly one LIKFNSJHGBJHBG

I can imagine him, Vere, and Ais all saying some version of "You want us/these guys to do anything? It's your birthday" which is why I didn't put this in their solos like Ok ms repetitive. Leander's feels more sincere, Vere and Ais are fully prepared to take the piss. You can get some weird ass bet or situation going on. Ais will start a fight in your honour #happybirthday before punching someone in the FACE! (He will also refrain from starting one if That's your wish)

Sure you can open all their gifts in front of them... As long as you're prepared for snarky comments and ranking of gifts from your audience. It isn't a competition but as soon as you pick up Leander's gift Vere is giving it a 0/10 throw it in the trash it's probably some experimental beverage that tastes like the bottom of his boot LFMSGHJHB

(Though I think Mhin would be the most against the idea so you might open theirs later)

Also. I think this works with multiple LIs if not All of them but if you're ever like, you didn't have to do this, why did you do this for me, etc. etc. they tease you like, Did you forget it's your birthday again? We've been celebrating for a while already.

reg... so sorry if it's not ur birthday anymore when u see this.. i don't think it will be.. SOB i forgot about timezones oh my goodness... I HOPE IT WAS A GOOD ONE!! :') am honored u let me write this. Kicking my feet jumping up and down 🤍 🤍

[muletia]

Can we get more of mer!smokescreen plzplz

mer!smokescreen x human!reader

here u go anon (after almost two months of dusting in my inbox...)

smokescreen being a brat because I like him as a brat hehe

word count: 700

I can't believe there are so many of you guys...

You feel his presence before you can see him.

Your boat rocks left and right, harder and harder, tossed by a force nearly equal to the ocean itself. It tilts you, throws you forward and then to the sides, so much that you have to grab the edges of the boat just to make sure you won’t end up having an up-close meeting with the water today. You didn’t sail out to the middle of the ocean to go for a swim and waste such a perfect opportunity to catch a few fish.

Your friend, however, had completely different plans for you.

One particularly strong push against the bottom of the boat tilts it so much that your legs give in to the sudden, drastic shift in angle. You fall to the side, clutching the metal edge tightly, your face nearly kissing the churning surface of the water. A surface just as stirred up as your growing irritation toward your underwater buddy.

“Smokescreen!” you call, voice heavy with reproach.

Barely a millisecond later, a huge head emerges from the water right below your face, so close the two of you almost bump foreheads.

Smokescreen does not share your anger. He’s amused, delighted that he finally managed to get your attention after being ignored the whole way to the deep ocean. But now you were finally focusing on him! Not under the circumstances he would have preferred, he’d much rather be showered in affection all day, but what mattered most was that your eyes, gleaming with annoyance, were fixed on him. And Smokescreen wanted nothing more from life.

He greets you by pressing your foreheads together, but you quickly pull your head back. Oh no, you’re not giving him that satisfaction.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You push his head away with your hand. Or rather, you push your whole body off of his, because the gray mer doesn’t budge an inch. “No kisses for wrecking my boat.”

A pathetic, high-pitched chirp barely moves your angry heart. You ignore it, and once you regain your balance, you reach for your fishing rod. But you don’t get to enjoy the peace for long. Barely at all, in fact.

The lack of a lively response forces Smokescreen to change tactics. Determined to be closer to you, his beloved, if a little grumpy, human mate, he begins climbing up the side of the boat with a very conscious and deliberate intention of hauling himself inside. Placing an enormous amount of faith in your little boat that it won’t break under his considerable weight.

He’s in the middle of swinging his second arm up and already shoving his bulky torso in when you finally notice what he’s up to. And for obvious reasons, you are not thrilled.

“Oh no, no, no! Don’t you dare!”

Smokescreen grins widely, baring all his sharp, pointed teeth in their full glory and clicks twice. Then, to your horror, continues forcing himself into your boat, once again pulling all of your attention solely onto him.

You turn toward him, fighting against the boat’s tilt to keep yourself from falling into the icy, salty water, and grab his forearms, trying to pry them off the side of the boat.

“This is a clingy-mer-free zone” you warn.

But seeing how amused his azure eyes are, how little he cares for all your warnings and scolding, you already know you’re not winning this battle. In fact, you’ve already lost it, the moment you gave him your attention.

You don’t even have time to feel annoyed before Smokescreen, with an incredibly excited chirp, attacks your face with his own. He pushes himself even deeper into the boat, closer to you, and nuzzles into your face, rubbing cheeks, nose, and occasionally covering your whole face with little nose-kisses. All of it accompanied by a cheerful purring. Something like a cat’s, only lower and more piercing, because you can feel it vibrating through your entire body.

“Incorrigible” you say helplessly.

In response, you get the tip of his tongue sticking out, which a second later touches your nose. Just once, one quick lick, but enough to reignite your irritation.

“Impossible…”

But when he rests his head on your lap, looking up at you with a gleam that can only be described as pure adoration, you can’t stop your hand from stroking the soft skin on his temples.

[johnnysuhbmarine]

Out of Time

Pairing: Chenle x reader Description: You'd be lying if you said feelings weren't caught within the thirteen years of friendship you had with Chenle, but even when you both wanted to be more, you agreed to shut any idea of it down - his future marriage was already arranged as part of a business deal, there was no point setting your hearts up for breaking. So, why is he on your doorstep begging for a chance just three months before he has to go back to China?  Content warnings: Arranged marriage au but not with each other; rich kid Chenle; swearing; they have sex, and while no actual smut is written, it’s not exactly glossed over, either; fluff; angst; there is no happy ending to this part but I promise another part is coming Word count: 16,362 A/n: If you knew how long I’ve been working on this idea, you wouldn’t believe me…but now that this first part is out I’m actually really happy with how it’s come together. The second part should be out in no more than a few weeks (hopefully). Let me know if you want to be on a taglist for it. Posting this today to celebrate @fullsunstrawberry's last day of class for the semester!!…though this ends in angst so it’s not the best gift I’ve ever come up with 🫠 Anyways, please enjoy, though who am I to tell you what to do…as always, feedback would be greatly appreciated. Take care of yourselves, I love you

Your childhood went by too fast. Though, you assume that’s the only way it could feel when it’s the sole marker of the time you were able to have with Chenle. The two of you grew up together, but through conversations you felt you were too young to be involved in, you both knew that you wouldn’t be able to continue with said friendship in adulthood. The thing about Chenle was, he’s lived with his aunt, right across the street from your parents, in a small Korean suburb since he was five years old. However, where he spent the first four years of his life, and where he would eventually be summoned back to, was with his parents in Shanghai. 

There was nothing wrong about his parents. In fact, for most of childhood, Chenle only had positive things to say about them, a wide smile adorning his face whenever he thought of seeing them again. The entire reason he was living with his aunt was because his parents wanted him to experience a normal childhood, so really, they had his best interest at heart. That being said, they did not care about whether or not Chenle would have a normal adulthood. Instead, they were waiting for him to fall in line, learn how to eventually take over their multimillion dollar company, and with that, play his part…and accept the fact that his future marriage, to the daughter of one of their business partners, has been arranged for him since the moment he was born. Finding this out, Chenle no longer had loads of nice things to say about his parents. He lived with a constant resentment towards them since the start of high school, but you were always his one beacon of comfort, where the weight of his future could fall off his shoulders and he could just be a kid again for a little while longer. 

It was the summer before freshman year of high school when your parents and his aunt sat the two of you down at the dinner table and explained how Chenle’s future was going to pan out. You were just fourteen years old, having Chenle suddenly upset and arguing about who he’d be marrying felt so wrong, the problem seemingly so far away. You were kids, but because of that moment, you both grew up too quickly - Chenle by force, and you because you refused to let him go through it alone. The real world, outside of school and pickup basketball games in someone’s driveway, now weighed heavily on the two of you, and the only thing you could promise was that you’d navigate as much of it as you could together. 

The one thing his parents agreed to compromise on was that, rather than having Chenle fly back immediately after high school graduation, he could stick through that last summer with you, and eventually head back to China when you left for university. That’s the exact period of time that the two of you were in now - almost a full three months where the plans that have been talked about for years were now facing you head on. Stupidly, you try to forget about it, pretend it was just some normal summer, like your best friend wasn’t being ripped away from you at the end of it. You were setting yourself up to be blindsided by the inevitable passage of time, but it was all you could think to do if you wanted to hold onto any chance at smiling this summer.

It was the day right after graduation when Chenle hopped across the street and rang your doorbell. It was the middle of the day, your parents still at work, so you had to be the one to slide off the couch and check who was at the door. Normally, Chenle would text you before he came over, and you would have the door already unlocked for his arrival so that he could just barge in and join you on the couch…or immediately grab your wrist, drag you through the kitchen for two glasses of lemonade, and then out the back door for another basketball match. The last thing you expected him to do was ring the doorbell out of nowhere, but more confusingly, when you open the front door to face him, he’s pacing back and forth. His mind seemed to be going a hundred miles a minute, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look this distraught before. 

“Chenle?” You prompt, tilting your head at him still making circles in your front walkway. He snaps his head up and stops moving, seeming not to have heard you actually open the door yet and instead leaving him to get surprised by your voice. As he takes in your bewildered state, he does his best to calm himself, correctly assuming he was the reason for it. 

Now, his body faces you full-on, but he still can’t meet your eyes, instead looking towards the ground and sucking on his bottom lip as he figures out what he wants to say. Eventually, he gives up, shaking his head and bringing his gaze up to you with an agitated sigh. “Any way I put this, I come off as an asshole, so please forgive me,” he finally says all at once.

You furrow your brows at him in confusion, your return question bearing a much lighter tone than his own. “What’s up, Chenle?”

He darts his gaze off to the side, biting on his bottom lip again. Though, this contemplation period hardly lasted a second before he’s dropping his head and spitting out his words through one rushed exhale. “Can I be selfish for one summer? Before you go to college? Before I move back to my parents' house? I know we both agreed to be smart enough not to get involved…but before I have to be someone else’s, I want to be yours - even if it’s just for one summer.” 

To say you were thrown off was an understatement, but not necessarily because of his confession. It was no secret the two of you developed feelings for each other. Your parents knew it, his aunt knew it, you knew it, he knew it - there was no use in pretending said feelings didn’t exist. However, being sixteen with those feelings and knowing what you had since you were fourteen made the situation less than average. 

You and Chenle decided the best thing you could do was flesh everything out. So, one random day of sophomore year, you did. An entire evening kicking yourselves for catching feelings, laughing at the fact that it seemed inevitable, and then deciding that the best course of action now was to try and forget about it. You were not the daughter of his wealthy parents’ wealthy business partner, and the two of you quickly learned that there was no changing his parents’ minds on the arranged marriage. There was no reason to try and pretend an outcome could exist where the two of you could work, where you wouldn’t get hurt. It was both, a pro and a con of being forced to grow up - dumb decisions that your childhood was waiting for you to make were never made, and it was so hard to tell which dumb decisions you actually missed out on. 

Chenle was right, the two of you agreed to be smart enough to not get involved, but a part of you was mad that you never took the chance to be a stupid high school kid. It seemed entirely out of left field for Chenle to address the situation again just three months before the beginning of the rest of your lives kicked in, but you’re glad he did.

“One summer for us to make some stupid decisions and break our own hearts?” You echo back, and any trace of hope on Chenle’s face fades away. That is, until you look back at him with a smirk, leaning against your doorframe casually. “Yeah, what the hell. Let’s do it,” you say, and when Chenle whips his head back up to face you in surprise, you can’t stop your smirk from turning into a full smile.

Chenle shakes his head quickly, as though to get rid of all the thoughts on how to respond to a refusal that never came, and instead an easy smile reaches his own face as he looks back at you. “Great! So, can I take you on a date?” 

He’s completely serious as he replies and this is where you’re most taken aback. “Oh, starting off with a date?” You only had three months to be together, and to be quite honest, you thought Chenle was going to skip past all the initial dates and dive right in, knowing that you wouldn’t have given it a second thought if he immediately had you pinned against a wall. You seemed to have greatly underestimated the character of your best friend though, because he shoots back with a sure nod, genuinity filling his next words.

“Well, yeah. I don’t want this to just be a physical thing. I want to be able to say that you were my first love. You were always meant to have that title. I want to remember you that way, not as some no-strings-attached summer fling.” 

You immediately drop your head to face the floor. Chenle must have grown up some more when you weren’t looking. All at once, you don’t know what happened to the loser you grew up with, who learned to shut off his feelings and fill all that space with basketball instead; but now, here he stood, making his intentions very clear in that he planned to spend the summer falling in love with you, and outside of the shock you’ve felt throughout this entire conversation, a new feeling erupts in your stomach - butterflies. 

You look back up at him, regardless of how embarrassingly red you could tell your cheeks were, and a smile reaches your face as soon as the two of you lock eyes. “A date it is,” you say with a nod before stepping back into your house some more and actually letting him inside for a bit. “I’ll have to actually get out of my pajamas,” you say with a laugh. “Any idea of where you want to go?”

Chenle bites on the inside of his cheek before shaking his head. “Well, you know I can take you out on a really fancy date, and if that’s what you want, we can do that. I mean, that’s sure as hell what you deserve…but I was thinking maybe we could just go out to our favorite ice cream shop and then play some basketball.”

Your cheeks puff out in a smile. “So, you wanna hang out?” You tease, and Chenle is quick to shake his head.

“No! I wanna go on a date with you! I know we get ice cream and play basketball a lot, but now I want to do so while also knowing I can go up and kiss you whenever I want.”

You raise an eyebrow playfully. “Oh, now we’re kissing on the first date?” 

Chenle just stares at you in disinterest. “Three months, y/n. That’s all I get. I’m not exactly looking to take things super slow. Besides,” he continues, throwing a sly smirk your way as his own brows raise. “You’re the one who’s been wanting to kiss me for the past two years.”

Your mouth drops into a gape as you swat at him, only succeeding in making him laugh like a dolphin, and while you made fun of his laugh whenever you could, it was also your favorite thing in the world. A certain warmth fills your chest at the sound of it as you simply shake your head. “Whatever. You’ve been wanting to kiss me for the past two years as well. Don’t even pretend otherwise.” He’s still getting over his laughing fit as you finish your sentence, leaving you to just roll your eyes at him as you turn and walk upstairs to your room to change, the front door still hanging open for him to eventually follow you through.

When you come back downstairs after getting ready, Chenle looks you up and down with a smile. “I’ve always liked that skirt on you,” he says casually. You let out a light laugh.

“I know. You weren’t very secretive about it,” you reply playfully, causing a light dusting of pink to cover Chenle’s cheeks.

“Is dating you just going to be a nonstop period of you teasing me?” He finally asks in return. His words make you freeze, though. You only had three months but he was serious about it, serious about you, and you couldn’t help thinking about how great the hurt would be for both of you once it was over.

You shake out of it, you had to, and instead send a wink his way as you rush out the door without him. “I guess you’ll have to just wait and see,” you banter back, and Chenle rolls his eyes before following you out and doing your part in locking up behind him. 

While you were exchanging greetings with the worker on the other side of the ice cream parlor’s bar, Chenle was just continuously poking at your arm. “What?” You finally snap as you turn to him, though no one would ever be able to pick up even the slightest bit of irritation with his antics based off the smile on your face as you looked at him.

Chenle draws in a deep breath as a confidence booster before spitting out his words all at once. “I know we normally get our own milkshakes and finish them, but if you wanted to do that thing where we get one milkshake and put two straws in it, we could.” He was completely serious as he spoke, and you bite your lip to stop the wide smile from coming onto your face at his attempt to truly make this feel like a date. 

Instead of letting him know how cute he was, you resort back to messing with him. “Hmm…less ice cream for me, though,” you say, pretending to contemplate his offer.

“I can buy us another one after that!” He quickly responds, and you can see the typical energy begin to flow back through his body as he relaxes some more. “We can just keep ordering milkshakes to share! I mean, what’s a couple of $5 transactions on a black card?” He continues rambling but you break out into a laugh, immediately getting him to stop and stare at you in bewilderment because nothing he just said was a joke.

“Breaking out the black card for our first date?” You ask, looking over at Chenle as though you were something like impressed. He does not see what the big deal is.

“Of course, anything for you-” That’s where he breaks himself off, his head falling into his hands on the counter as he finally cracks. “God, I feel like a loser,” he groans, but a fond smile paints its way across your face in response.

“You’re not a loser,” you reply calmly, but Chenle shakes his head in his hands, his next words coming out covered in defeat.

“But my face is red and I’m saying stupid stuff.”

“It’s cute,” you reassure him gently, but he is quick to quip back.

“You’re cute.” The statement rolls off his tongue effortlessly and you jump back a little in your seat, eyes wide.

“Woah, lele. I didn’t know you could actually be sweet to me,” you say back, feigning astonishment. 

Chenle finally lifts his head up out of his hands to drag his troubled gaze over to you. “Do you see what I’m talking about? I’m a loser! I didn’t mean to say that,” he groans.

You just furrow your brows. “So, you don’t think I’m cute?” You ask playfully. Chenle squeezes his eyes shut, taking an extra long breath before peeking one eye open to look at you and practically whisper his response.

“Yes, I do.” 

An easy smile spreads across your face as you take in the fact that Chenle genuinely complimented you, though you were glad to see it pained him to admit it because that meant this was still your Chenle after all. You immediately turn your gaze back over to the worker, who pretended to be super invested in cleaning the counter as your conversation with Chenle drew out, and then you order just one milkshake with two straws. After, you move your gaze back over to your best friend.

“You can just be yourself, you know? I’ve liked you for years already, you don’t have to try and win me over now.”

Chenle sucks on his bottom lip, sighing. “I know but…you deserve to feel romanced and loved, and I want to do that, I just- it’s not my strong suit. My parents just bought me things and then shipped me overseas. A pretty weird love language if you ask me.” He ends with a small laugh, and you’re relieved to see the tension in his shoulders fall as he does. 

You shoot a fond smile his way in response. “I know, and that’s okay. Look, these three months for us to be together is just a change in the title of our relationship. There’s not much else that has to change. I won't hate you for struggling with how to express love. I know you like me, that’s enough.”

“Stop being so good at making me feel better,” he says with a weak grin. “I already feel like I’m not good enough for you.” 

You roll your eyes, placing one hand on top of his at the counter, getting him to meet your serious gaze. “Lele, you make me happy - that’s more than enough. Plus, you’re rich,” you add, and Chenle lets out his own laugh as he rips his hand away from under yours.

“Oh, whatever,” he replies with a scoff, but the atmosphere is instantly lighter as your laughter is only broken up by the milkshake being slid in between the two of you, immediately redirecting your attention to the shared directive of sucking that down as fast as you could. 

As Chenle got his card back after paying for all your rounds of milkshakes, he turned to you with a hopeful grin. “Do you wanna go back and play basketball in our street?” He asks, causing a similar smirk to spread across your own features.

“You know I do, but can you take it easy on me now that we’re dating?” You suggest playfully, though surprise was the last feeling that came to mind when Chenle’s eyebrows furrow in response.

“Absolutely not,” he replies quickly, causing you to sigh. “If anything, I gotta go harder on you now that we’re dating. I don’t date amateurs. You gotta keep up with me.” Your face falls into shock as you lightly hit the back of your hand against his forearm and the two of you break out into laughter again.

“Hey! Thirteen years of pickup basketball does not equate to me being an amateur. I’m a seasoned pro,” you try to say seriously. Chenle raises his eyebrows at you in a taunt.

“Yeah? We’ll see about that. What do you say, loser has to buy-” He cuts himself off from going over the terms of the bet as he turns his attention towards the countertop in disbelief. “I guess I just bought all our ice cream. What are we supposed to use as a bet now?” He speaks as though his hopes and dreams were ruined. You just shake your head fondly at him, sucking on your bottom lip to try and hold back a smile.

“Come on,” you say, moving to grab his hand in yours and pull him away from the counter. “We’ll figure something out. Let’s go before it gets dark.” 

Chenle shoots you a look as though you were crazy. “Y/n, it’s summer. We have like- at least five more hours before it gets dark.” 

You stop in your tracks, turning back to him with a smirk. “Well, my bad. I just wanted to spend as much time with my boyfriend as possible,” you reply, and Chenle ducks his head as blush covers his face. Though, with one gentle squeeze of your hand, he’s the one now pulling you out of the ice cream parlor and towards the car to go back home. 

As always, the two of you started off with a game of horse. It’s typically how you would decide who gets first possession, though you’ve stopped seeing a point to it because Chenle wins every time. At least, that’s how it normally goes. Today, standing in Chenle’s driveway, it was you who was crushing Chenle in horse. With you still at ‘h’ and Chenle just tacking on an ‘s,’ you let out a laugh. “I thought you weren’t taking it easy on me,” you taunt, and Chenle whips his head in your direction seriously. 

“I’m not!”

You raise your eyebrows at him as you move to take the ball from his hands and shoot your next shot. “Okay well then, whoever you are, can you go get Chenle back for me?” You ask, turning back to him after successfully making it. “I miss him. He’s your height, looks kinda like you, is good at basketball-” You tease, and Chenle cuts you off as he turns fire red, grabbing the basketball and readying himself to shoot from where you just did.

“I’m good at basketball!” He argues before taking his next shot…and missing. He turns around to meet your raised eyebrows and groans. “A game of horse doesn’t even matter! All it means is that you start off our actual game.” 

You shake your head at his antics as he picks up the basketball and passes it to you because somehow, you had first possession today. These ‘actual’ games were where you tended to perform better, but it was the same for Chenle of course, so you still typically only took one out of every twenty games from him. 

Though, it seemed Chenle’s poor performance in horse did nothing to actually warm him up, because his game performance was no better - possibly worse. You watched as the famed Lele Curry missed every shot he took, acting as though nothing happened every time he retrieved the ball for you. You wait until he misses an easy layup before finally shaking your head at him from the other side of the driveway. 

“Lele, come kiss me,” you say plainly, and Chenle immediately stops in his tracks as he turns towards you. 

“WHAT? Wh- wha- why?” He fumbles out through something of a shocked yell, getting you to just roll your eyes at him playfully. 

“Cause I have a feeling it’s gonna get you your basketball skills back,” you reply with raised eyebrows, greatly contrasting Chenle’s furrowed ones as he looks back at you in question.

“Huh?” He gets out, causing your shoulders to bounce up and down lightly with a small chuckle. 

You look up to face him fondly, the teasing lilt out of your tone. “Look, we’re dating now, we just talked about affection, it’s on your mind and messing with your game, so you should come kiss me and get it over with,” you state as though it were no big thing. It was a big thing to Chenle though, because he just learned you could read his mind. Of course he was thinking about kissing you, it was all he could think about - you were you, after all, and Chenle really really liked you. 

You watch as his adam’s apple bobs up and down with a hesitant swallow, but as he looks back up at you, the tension in his shoulders falls. He crosses the driveway to end up directly in front of you. Slowly, his right hand comes up to cup the side of your face, an action that you easily smile into, and Chenle takes a moment to run his thumb over your puffed out cheek as his nervous gaze runs over every inch of your face. “I don’t know how to kiss but- but I promise I’ll do it just right if you let me.”

“Chenle…”

“May I?” He asks quietly once his eyes finally fall to your lips.

You nod your head, caught off guard for a breathless moment at the recognition of this softer, shyer side of Chenle. You had kissed a few guys throughout high school, but you knew he hadn’t kissed anyone before. Once the two of you found out his marriage was arranged, he gave up completely on high school relationships or flings, and meanwhile you tried to kiss as many guys as possible in an attempt to get your mind off of it. None of them ever meant anything, but this one did, and Chenle knew it, too. He wanted to do everything right, but he didn’t even know what ‘right’ was, and any time he didn’t know what he was doing, he fell shyer, more hesitant, always so uncomfortable with unknowns that he tried to just slip away instead. He hardly let you see this side of him because he always wanted to present his best self; but he was soft with you now, because he cared enough about you to admit he was clueless - that the thought of kissing you made his head spin but it wasn’t even something he could truly picture. 

“You may,” you answer softly, and Chenle slowly leans into you. 

It started out as the lightest kiss in the world, a kind of gentleness almost uncharacteristic of your best friend if you didn’t know all his layers already. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips, but you refuse to break so quickly; so instead, you pin your focus on deepening the kiss - pressing back into him, establishing a healthy rhythm sucking on his bottom lip. Chenle’s hand that wasn’t cupping your face soon flies to your waist as he begins to match your pace. As he got more comfortable with the feeling of his lips against yours, he got more desperate for it. You figure standing in the driveway of his house is not where you should teach him how to use his tongue, so with one last soft kiss, you break away.

Your gaze instantly falls to the ground beneath your feet, a cheesy grin across your face that you try to cover up. “See, now you’ve kissed me. Nothing else is going to be as scary as that,” you say playfully. “Now you’re good. You can kiss me whenever you want. Alternatively, you never have to kiss me again if that’s what you want-” You immediately cut off your words as you finally bring your gaze up to make eye contact with Chenle, only to realize he’s staring at you with wide eyes, his mouth hanging slightly open. “What’s that look for?” You ask, suddenly worried you did something wrong.

Chenle shakes his head in an attempt to gather his thoughts, mouth opening and closing in hesitation as he looks you up and down. “Um, I like you…a lot. Like, a lot,” he says as though he were out of breath. The wide grin comes back to your face as you let out a fond laugh.

“Ha! That’s for another time,” you promise, instead bending down to pick the basketball up from the ground and place it in his hands. “Now turn around and shoot,” you continue, nodding your head towards the basket behind him. He does as asked, turning around and not even taking a moment to regain his footing before shooting and immediately making a nothing-but-net basket. You drop your face back to the pavement with a knowing nod. Then, you walk the one step back to meet him again and place a soft kiss on his cheek. “There’s my Chenle,” you claim softly, and watch as his ears turn a deep shade of red. 

Biting on his bottom lip, he shakes his head, unable to say anything in response. Instead, he moves to grab the basketball again, passing it to you since he just scored, and you know you’re about to get your ass kicked in pickup basketball. 

That was, in fact, exactly what happened. The only difference between this and the games that occurred before you started dating, is that now throughout the game, Chenle would sometimes turn around after making a basket and tell you a play that good deserved a kiss. You would roll your eyes every time but you always obliged - each soft, casual, ‘proud of you’ peck leaving Chenle with the biggest grin on his face.

Your pickup game finally ended when his aunt got back from work, forcing you both out of the driveway but more importantly, breaking the two of you apart from your quick kiss as you scramble into the grass. As she pulls into the garage and turns off the car, she steps out to meet you two still on the side of the driveway. “Well, something’s certainly changed in the time I’ve been at work, hasn’t it?” She says with a playful smirk. You and Chenle drop your heads in unison, but his aunt just lets out a warm laugh, nodding her head towards the door. “Come on, kids. I’ll make us dinner.” 

Matching smiles spread across your faces as you rush to follow her inside. As she started cooking, you and Chenle did whatever you could to help around the house where needed, but eventually you were told to just sit and rest a while as opposed to crowding the kitchen and making things more difficult. So, TV remote now in hand, you leaned into Chenle on the couch and he hooked both arms over you instantaneously.

Chenle’s arms around you, the smell of home-cooked dinner, and a basketball game on the TV, there was something so natural about it - as though Chenle’s arms have been around you your entire life, as though you’d have them around you, to come home to, for the rest of time. You knew the idea of it would never be true in the long run, but right now it was as real as it could get - and the second you could convince yourself to simply exist in the present, that fact was enough to make everything okay. You’re sure Chenle could feel it, because at the very same time that peace crashed over your body, Chenle squeezed you slightly tighter to him, placing a small kiss to the top of your head before resuming his task of acting super nonchalant about having you in his arms. 

The two of you explained everything to his aunt over dinner, and any disheartening thought she may have had about the situation, she kept to herself. You all had collectively gone through that song and dance all those years prior when the news of Chenle’s arranged marriage first broke. She knew you didn’t need to hear that speech again. Instead, she smiled warmly, claiming that if any two people deserved to be happy together, even for just a little while, it was you guys. 

You excused yourself after dinner, figuring it was probably time for you to head home since you haven’t seen your parents all day. Chenle immediately stood from the table with you, gently lacing his fingers with yours and leading you to the door. “I’ll walk you home,” he says casually, but you just shake your head at him.

“Lele, I live right across the street. It doesn’t even take twenty seconds for me to get home,” you reply playfully. Chenle just squeezes your hand in his slightly tighter, and when he speaks again, it’s much more somber in tone.

“Three months, y/n. I’ll take a few more seconds anywhere I can get them,” he states quietly, and his words seem to have hollowed you out so that all you can do is nod your head. Chenle smiles at your acceptance before getting hit with another thought and immediately pausing. “Oh, wait!” He exclaims as you take the first step out his front door.

You turn back around to face him in question, watching as he runs through the house before coming back into view with a hoodie in his arms. “For you,” he says with a bright smile as he holds out the hoodie for you to take. You just raise your brows at him with a smirk.

“Chenle, it’s summer. What am I gonna need a hoodie for?” You ask playfully in return, though your traces of banter didn’t reach Chenle, and instead every feature on his face falls into a pout. You let out a fond laugh at the sight of it, moving towards him to take the hoodie from his arms with a light kiss on his cheek. You immediately slip it over your head, and the sheer comfort of it answered your question of what you were gonna do with a hoodie in the summer - wear it any chance you got. You look back at Chenle, who was stuck staring at you in his hoodie as though you were a goddess. You just pray your face doesn’t show too flustered in the moonlight and grab his hand to actually start on the walk across the street.

As you get to your front door, Chenle tightens his grip on your hand to pull you back some more, now just standing idly on your front porch. You study his figure curiously, watching as he tosses around thoughts in his head so loud you could almost hear them. His gaze eventually falls to the ground but he finally finds his voice.

“I don’t think I’m gonna be great at ever telling you how I feel. It’s hard for me to articulate anything even closely related to feelings. There’s so much in my head but I don’t know how to tell you everything…how much you mean to me. But if today taught me anything, I’m much more comfortable with showing you how I feel. That doesn’t seem as foreign to me for some reason. I can show you how I feel - I want to. I hope it gets across, though. I hope you know every time we kiss…” He drags off, and his eyebrows immediately furrow in irritation that this was just another example of him struggling to put his feelings into words.

You give a fond shake of your head as you stare back at him. “Chenle,” you let out softly, rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand, still intertwined with yours. 

He finally looks back up at you with resolve. “What I’m trying to say is that if one day, you get fed up with all my emotions being expressed physically rather than verbally, I can stop. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I don’t have to kiss you all the time. I can try- I can try to…I can-” This time, he’s cut off by your lips on his, and he melts right into the kiss.

When you finally pull back, you place a hand on his cheek, nodding your head lightly. “It gets across, lele. Everything you’re feeling, it gets across. It’s never gonna be too much; we have a lot of time to make up for, I know. So, whenever you want to kiss me, I want to kiss you.”

In return, Chenle gives the most bashful smile you’ve ever seen. He moves a hand up to guide your own back down from his cheek before studying the way your two hands fit with each other so naturally. All hands were meant to be interlaced with another, he thought, but his were specifically made for yours. You look at his soft features with a grin, squeezing his hand gently in yours and getting him to train his eyes back on you in a rush. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says surely, causing you to laugh some before nodding your head. 

“See you tomorrow,” you softly return as he takes the first few steps back towards his house. You stand and watch until he finally reaches his own front door; turning back around to see you still outside, he gives an exaggerated wave in your direction, and you didn’t need to see the huge smile on his face to know it was there. You move your hand up slightly to wave back to him, hoping the yellow street light wasn’t enough to illuminate the clarity that had immediately washed over you as you clocked that you only had three months left of his exaggerated waves and huge smiles - the butterflies that had occupied your stomach all day were no match for the void that made its presence known now. A heavy breath escapes you as he finally turns the knob and enters his house, leaving you with nothing left to do but the same.

As soon as you opened the door, the change in atmosphere was striking. The warmth of your parents’ laughter filled the kitchen as they were cleaning up from their own dinner, your dog entirely too wound up as he jumped around waiting for teased scraps from your father’s plate. The pit in your stomach didn’t go away, but instead became more pronounced as another strange feeling added to it. Your parents had much longer than three months to be together; you wondered if they could fathom it - if they could ever wrap their heads around the amount of love shared between the two of them throughout all these years. You wondered if you would ever be able to wrap your head around the idea of loving someone that many years, knowing it wouldn’t be Chenle on the receiving end of it. You hated remembering why the two of you originally promised not to get involved with each other - you hated that those reasons made more sense than ever.

You didn’t realize the door practically slammed shut behind you until the rest of the house fell quiet in response. Your mom makes eye contact with you in the front entryway before smiling brightly and returning to the dishes. “Hey, sweetie! Were you over at Chenle’s?”

Her question is coated with a smile and all you can do is start rambling to try and fight off the nauseous feeling that arose in response. “Guys, I made a really stupid decision and I know it’s stupid so I don’t need you to tell me again and I really don’t need you to be pessimistic about it because it won’t help.” You speed through your words in an instant and the look on your parents’ faces completely flip as they drop what they’re doing to go meet you still by the front door.

“Y/n, what happened?” Your dad asks in a panic, and you figure the vagueness of your statement meant they were currently assuming a lot worse than it was. You shake your head, but it doesn’t do much to dismiss their worry until you follow it up with words.

“Chenle asked me to be his girlfriend,” you spit out, and the tension in their shoulders drops at once.

“And you said ‘yes,’” your mom softly finishes in your place. You shoot your gaze up to her, bringing their notice to the tears in your eyes as you respond weakly.

“I couldn’t say ‘no.’”

Your mom lets out a fond sigh, nodding her head as she throws an understanding smile in your direction. “I know,” she replies, coming up to wrap you in a hug where you finally let yourself bawl your eyes out.

“We only have three months to be together but- but we wanted to be together,” you explain as firmly as you could through tears. “And we should’ve just pressed on these three months like we have our whole lives, I know it’s stupid-”

“Y/n, it’s not stupid,” your mom cuts in seriously. You lean slightly out of the hug to make shaky eye contact with her, then darting your gaze off to meet the encouraging look your dad bore and only getting more confused. You pull back from the hug entirely, now doing your best to collect yourself again so you could have a real conversation.  

“I’m gonna be really hurt three months from now, and it’s not Chenle’s fault, it’s mine-” You could only be mad at yourself for so long before your mom cuts you off again. 

“It’s not your fault. Sometimes, what makes a decision seem stupid is that there’s no one to blame for its consequences. It’s not gonna be your fault, nor Chenle’s…and it’s weird when you don’t have someone to blame.” Your mom was always the voice of reason, but you figure this time she was taking the same approach that Chenle’s aunt did. The inevitability of you and Chenle was the least of her worries. Her main goal was to keep you from jumping off the ledge before you could even enjoy it. 

“I think Chenle blames his parents,” you rebuttal thoughtfully, and your dad just lets out a laugh before he responds more sincerely.

“Yes, but I think he hates his parents enough for the all of us, so we shouldn’t add to it.” Chenle’s disdain for his parents was more than evident, and your own parents never had the nicest things to say about them either - even though they kept their thoughts to themselves, you knew it. There wasn’t a single person in the suburb who understood where Chenle’s parents were coming from; with the quality of life being so starkly different, you figure no one ever would. The sucky thing was, you knew Chenle’s parents were thinking the same thing about you all, and it’s why everyone but Chenle has kept their opinion to themselves - it wasn’t worth it to do otherwise, an understanding could never be made between two different worlds. 

You take in his words with a flash of your eyebrows but eventually let out a heavy sigh. “...he shouldn’t hate his parents,” you admit solemnly, thinking of your own family and wondering how heartbreaking it would be for both sides if you viewed them the way Chenle views his.

Your father ducks his head, his thoughts running parallel to yours. “No, but that’s not for us to worry about. I’m just glad you don’t hate yours,” he says with a smile, and you finally move your gaze back up towards your parents, three pairs of uncertain eyes exchanging thousands of emotions between them.

“Is everything gonna be okay?” You finally ask, your voice much weaker than you would have liked. Your mom shakes her head in mystery, a thin-lipped smile giving its best attempt at comfort.

“I don’t know, but was today okay?” She asks in return.

“Yes,” you answer immediately, but then your face turns more contemplative and you shake your head. “No- it was so much better than ‘okay’ you wouldn’t even understand.” Your words come out coated in fondness. You figured it was the first step towards realizing how bittersweet these next three months with Chenle were going to be, how nostalgic you would soon feel for memories you were in the middle of making. 

Your mom’s smile widens at your words as she moves to brush over your cheek with her hand, ensuring the two of you make eye contact as she gives the only advice she thinks she can at this point. “Then let’s try not to worry about if everything’s gonna be okay in the future, and focus on the fact that everything is so much better than okay right now,” she says softly, leaving you nodding your head against her hold. It eventually falls into a tight hug before you get embarrassed and excuse yourself to make your way to your room for the night. 

It was a few hours later when your parents walked in to say goodnight. Your dad went first and then waited at the doorway as your mom took her moment to kiss the top of your head and bid you goodnight. Before she could take a full step away, though, you caught her hand in yours. Her face whipped back around to meet your soft, wavering gaze. “He kissed me today.” Your tone made it sound as though you had a million thoughts in your mind, but it was clear not even one would manifest itself into more words right away. Your parents both give a warm grin, and as your dad leaves from your doorframe to let the two of you have a moment, your mom joins you sitting on top of your bed.

“Yeah?” She encourages softly. All you can do is nod before frustration reaches the surface and you end up shaking your head decidedly.

“Mom, I don’t want to kiss another guy ever again,” you say, looking up to make sincere eye contact with her. “I want it to always be Chenle,” you continue firmly, and your mom just lets out a defeated sigh.

“For three months, it will be,” she says with a weak smile, trying her best to bring any sense of hope to the situation. 

You pull your bottom lip in between your teeth, both coming to terms with the situation and not being able to believe it all at once. “And that has to be enough. How do I make that be enough?” You ask helplessly, the sight of you torn up like this chipping away at your mom’s heart.

“I don’t know, but you’ll figure it out,” she replies, and you figure that’s all anyone would be able to say to that. These are your circumstances, and regardless of if it feels unfair, all you can do is the best you can do; spending these three months trying to resolve a grief that hasn’t even hit you yet was definitely not your best course of action. With the smallest of laughs that still comes across as jarring in the fragile moment, your mom speaks up again. “I would say you could kiss him like every time will be the last, but I can’t have you sucking his face off…his parents would not be thrilled about that,” she teases, and you’re finally able to crack a smile as well.

With one last kiss to the top of your head, your mom gets up and heads towards your door again. “Remember,” she says, turning back over her shoulder to look at you. “Today was really really good. Tomorrow will be, too; and the day after that…and the day after that. So, no stress for at least the next three days, okay?” 

Your smile widens on your lips at the silly promise, but it did its job in removing what felt like the entire weight of the world from your shoulders. “Okay.” Then, with one last smile, your mom was out the door.

The next week was spent with you and Chenle not seeing more than an hour of separation from each other unless you were sleeping. Though you couldn’t say this for anyone else you hang out with, you never got tired of Chenle, never oversaturated from his energy; so, spending all this time together was hardly a task - it was just how you were meant to be. You think Chenle held the secret to it all along, the reason you never got tired of each other - though you doubted he was even aware of it, every time he looked your way, it seemed to be with a fresh set of eyes, like it was the first time he’d ever laid eyes on you. You could see it in the glaze of softness that took over his stare for a millisecond. How could you ever tire of each other when every glance gave the illusion of no time having passed at all. The only problem you could anticipate is how shocking it would be when these three months were up, if each passing day still consisted of the butterflies from the first.

It was at the end of this first week when your mom lingered in your room while saying goodnight to you again. You eyed her curiously as she sat down on your bed rather than the typical lean-over to kiss the top of your head. She gives a small laugh as she meets your gaze, then starts her words with a light sigh.

“Y/n, your dad and I have been talking,” she begins, and the color drains from your face.

“Uh oh,” you reply, unsure of whatever it is they came up with but knowing it typically never boded well for you.

At this, she laughs again, shaking her head with a grin. “No, it’s nothing bad. It’s just-” she breaks off, looking as though she couldn’t believe what she was about to say, and once you heard her words, you understood the look on her face completely. “We know how this is gonna go. You guys are eighteen year olds who like each other a lot, the situation only made more dire because there’s a strict end date. We figure you’re gonna want each other as your first time, right? So, just please be safe about it, okay?” She moves to make eye contact with you again, seemingly proud with how she articulated everything, meaning she’s completely surprised to see your jaw dropped.

“Wait, what?!” The volume of your voice jars even you, but you could not believe her words. “Are you telling me you and dad came to the decision that Chenle and I could have sex?! Me?” You question, pointing up at yourself as though your mom didn’t know who she was addressing. “Your daughter? Permission to have sex with Chenle?” At your crazed tone, your mom just lets out another small laugh and a shrug, morphing the atmosphere into something much more chill than you could imagine.

“I mean, you’re eighteen,” she replies nonchalantly, only getting you to gawk at her some more.

“I’m like- still a kid to you guys!” You shoot back, remembering how many times the idea of that played into their many rules for you - curfew during high school is 10:00 but hey, that first summer once you’ve graduated, go crazy, it seems!

Your mom tosses the concept of you being a kid around in her head before returning her gaze to you with a slight smirk teasing at her features. “Eh, I lost mine at, uh- well...younger than you, so eighteen’s honestly looking pretty good.”

“What?!” You exclaim again, this piece of lore about your mom baffling you more than anything else you’ve heard tonight.

You watch as she winces, reliving the truth of what she just said, but her eyebrows eventually raise as she turns to you with a cheeky grin to contrast her serious gaze. “Yeah, don’t tell your father about that one. I’m pretty sure he thinks I lost it at nineteen…” She drags off, and you let out your first laugh of the night.

“I can’t believe this,” you say, and your mom’s smile meets your own as she shakes her head and continues with her actual point.

“Look, some people see being eighteen and an ‘adult’ as a reason to never need their parents’ permission for anything ever again. So, I’m glad that you still want our approval for certain things but, here it is. Just be safe and we’re good,” she says casually, and you just drop your head with a laugh of disbelief.

“Okay-” you begin with a nod, but your words are cut off as your mom seems to light up with another thought.

“Oh! Just please do all that when we aren’t home. Your father and I do not need to-” She cuts herself off abruptly but continues to open and close her mouth as if searching for words to describe exactly what her and your dad don’t need to be around to hear, but you just nod your head with another laugh.

“Okay, okay, I got it. Don’t worry,” you conclude, finally motioning for her to let it go and actually bid you goodnight. With a laugh, she relents, walking out of your room and leaving you completely bewildered…and with news to tell Chenle when you see him tomorrow.

However, when you did see Chenle the next day, the conversation with your mom was the last thing on your mind because your little romantic surprised you with a date to the zoo, saying that you had to go right away before it gets too hot and all the animals hide in the shade of their habitats.

The first hour of the zoo experience was completely normal - snow cones that turned your hands into a sticky mess, which Chenle refused to let you wash off right away because he kept sticking your hands together and pulling them apart again with the biggest smile on his face; and then walking around the entire place actually holding hands, splitting your conversation between genuine facts about the animals and trying to see who could get the other to believe the craziest lie they could come up with at the time.

It was when you were at the prairie dog habitat that things took a turn. You and Chenle were reading the fact sheet when you heard the little girl next to you ask her mom what was happening with the animals. You whip your head back up to see the prairie dogs in a compromising position and immediately hit Chenle on the shoulder to get him to whip his head up as well. The two of you try your best to hold in laughter as the parents with younger children rushed to find another animal habitat to keep their child entertained with. That was when memories of last night came flooding back to you and you turn to face Chenle in an instant.

“Oh, hey! You know my parents said they’re chill with us having sex,” you say quietly enough so that just Chenle could pick up on your words. Expecting a reaction similar to yours when first hearing the news, you were stunned to see that when Chenle turned his head over towards you, his face was completely flat aside from his raised brows.

“So, what are ya thinking? You wanna drop down right here and do it?” He asks neutrally, beginning to eye the floor before scrunching his nose and looking around for a better spot.

“Chenle!” You gawk, and all it takes is one look at your exasperated face before he finally falls into a bout of laughter.

“I’m kidding, princess. God, who do you take me for?” He jokes with a disappointed shake of his head. Though, as you calm down with your own dramatic eye roll, he slips his hand into yours again, bringing them up to kiss the back of yours before dragging you off towards another habitat. 

Hand-in-hand, the two of you walked around the rest of the zoo before heading out for a casual dinner. It wasn’t until Chenle was dropping you off at your front door that, in an effort to keep you in front of him a little longer, he remembered the topic he probably shouldn’t have just dismissed earlier in the day. “Oh, hey, before you go,” he starts, and you instantly remove your hand from the door knob to turn back around towards him. He makes serious eye contact with you as he continues. “About what you said at the zoo-” 

You raise your brows with a grin but he shakes his head as soon as he spots your smile. “Not the part about all elephants being recognized as ordained ministers,” he clarifies, and you can’t help the small laugh as you remember your attempts at animal facts today. “But about us,” he continues seriously. “If I want anyone to be my first, it’s you, but I don’t wanna rush into it just because we’ve been told we can. I mean- I just got used to being able to kiss you and hold your hand-”

“And call me princess,” you add with a smirk, not letting him get away with the new pet name that easily. Chenle drops his head bashfully.

“Yeah, and call you princess…” he echos, falling more thoughtful with each word. “And I wanna be able to relish that a bit more before- well.” He shakes his head, getting frustrated at how poorly he was able to articulate everything on his mind. “I wanna be able to be there,” he finally says with resolve, looking back up to make eye contact with you again before continuing. “Be present…and if I still can’t fathom the fact that I get to kiss you right now, I don’t want to try and wrap my head around even more,” he finally concludes with something of an embarrassed laugh to try and lighten the atmosphere that only he thought needed lightening. You just smile sweetly back at him. 

“I get it, lele. Hey, I wasn’t the one suggesting we drop to the floor and do it in front of the prairie dog habitat,” you remind him, causing him to face the ground again as he lets out an actual laugh at his own past actions. When you pick your words back up, it’s with sincerity. “If one of us isn’t ready, then nothing’s happening. I’m good to take it slow. We wanted to do this right, yeah?”

Chenle nods his head as he lets out a sigh of relief, as though he expected the two of you to not be on the same page for the first time in thirteen years. Though, when he looks back up at you, it’s with a firm smile. “Yeah.”

You shake your head at it all, your smile alone revealing how endearing you found him despite your best efforts to keep it hidden. You press up on your tip-toes and lightly kiss the top of his nose before moving down to catch his lips easily with yours. “Goodnight, Chenle,” you say once you finally pull back. Chenle’s face is as red as ever, and you knew he wasn’t kidding when he said he still can’t fathom the fact that he gets to kiss you.

“Goodnight, princess,” he replies in kind, getting your own face to flush as he turns to walk the few steps across the street to his house.

A few more dates and countless pickup basketball games later, and it was already the one month anniversary of the day Chenle paced around your front porch and begged you to forget about what’s happening in just two months now. Knowing Chenle, and how much he loved spending his parents’ money while he wasn’t under their rule, you were half expecting him to greet you today in a suit and take you out to the fanciest restaurant he could find. Instead, Chenle barged in through your front door that afternoon with something much less proper on his mind. “Y/n, it’s been a month,” he points out, and you turn your head to face him from where you sat on the couch.

“Yeah?” You acknowledged, waiting to see where he was going with this.

“I think we should have sex,” he states plainly, and you throw your head back with a laugh before you can even think about it.

“Just like that, huh?” You tease, looking over at him once again with a huge grin, not at all as serious about this proposal as he was.

He puts his hands out awkwardly, as if making sure you stayed put and would hear him out. “Look, I’ve been doing a lot of reading on the subject-” he begins, and you cut him off with another laugh of disbelief.

“Oh, I’m sure you have,” you joke, finally up on your feet and rounding the couch so you could stand face-to-face with him.

He shakes his head in the meantime, a look of annoyance on his face, all overwritten by a huge grin because it was you he was annoyed at. “Shut up,” he quipped with his own small laugh before continuing with as much seriousness as he could. “What I’m saying is, I think I could make it the best day of your life.”

Your eyebrows shoot up immediately, and it’s hard to keep the tease in your voice when the rest of your face betrays you with a huge smile. “Oh, yeah? Well, I’m sure with all your nerdy research, you’re practically a pro by now.” Chenle opens his mouth to bark out some confirmative response, or more likely beg you to stop with the teasing. Though, before he can do any of that, you just shake your head, grabbing his hand in yours and, with the knowledge that both of your parents were still at work for the next few hours, easily guiding him to your bedroom without a second thought. “Come on, big head.”

Chenle smiled brightly at the back of your head as he followed you up the stairs. “I’m so lucky,” he responds, the sarcasm not doing any good at covering up how much he genuinely meant that statement…if only Chenle knew how lucky he made you feel. 

Ever since then, it became clear that sex with you was going to consistently stay at the forefront of Chenle’s mind. He was absolutely obsessed with the opportunity to know you more than he already did after the first thirteen years of memorizing you as his best friend. Each curve of your body was something sacred for him, and he took every chance he could get to indulge in it some more. Two weeks after your first time, Chenle met you at your front door with the same gleam in his eyes as ever. 

“Hey, baby,” you say, leaning in to quickly kiss him before moving back so he could actually step inside your house. “What do you wanna do today?”

“Sex!” He immediately answers, his tone as though he were a kid asking for candy. You drop your head with a small laugh.

“Not today, lele,” you reply, and Chenle’s brows shoot up in question, though the playfulness is still coating his every move.

“Was my approach wrong? Let’s go from the top, I’ll make my words more sophisticated,” he jokes with a smirk.

You finally give a solemn shake of your head. “No, Chenle.”

His demeanor immediately shifts as he falls into concern. “Okay, what’s wrong?” He asks, placing his hand softly on your cheek so he can guide your eyes back to his own. You meet his worried eyes and immediately dart your gaze away again, laughing softly in embarrassment. 

“Nothing. I just started my period today,” you explain, and Chenle immediately lets out a sigh of relief as you watch understanding wash over his figure. You pick up at the end of his sigh and continue with your answer. “My cramps are always the worst on day one.”

Once sure you weren’t breaking up with him nor banning him from ever fucking you again, he easily slips back into his usual manner with you; in this case, instantly getting on your ass. “Why didn’t you tell me?! I would’ve brought over your favorite snacks and your microwavable stuffed animal you always keep at my place and-”

You cut him off, shaking your head with a small smile. “I don’t need all that, though. I just wanna be with you.”

Chenle renders completely still for a moment. For a man who seemed to struggle with words, yours always ended up hitting him right on. He moves to instead wrap you in a tight hug, a contrasting gentle kiss placed on the top of your head as he just held you there for a moment. He finally moves to instead kiss your cheek and pull back a bit. “Movie night, then?” He suggests lightly.

You flash a soft grin in his direction, eyebrows raising as you stare back at him. “Will you hold me the whole time?” You ask seriously in return. Chenle rolls his lips inwards to hide his smile, though he can’t hide the light dusting of pink now covering his cheeks and tips of his ears. 

“Is that even a question?” His banter back is ruined by the sheer softness of it. Your grin widens as you grab his hand and lead him towards the couch in the living room. You lean into him easily and he doesn’t think twice before pulling you even closer, holding you even tighter, as your favorite movie begins playing in front of you. “We’re watching the Steph Curry documentary after this, just so you know,” Chenle suddenly speaks up, a faint laugh in his tone - a strange vocalic considering he was completely serious, but you realize it’s his attempt to be softer with you right now, figuring you had it bad enough with your cramps that you didn’t need his bluntness on top of it. 

“I’m pretty sure we can both quote the entire documentary by now,” you banter back with a disinterested groan. Chenle looks over at you by his side with a playful gleam in his eyes.

“Exactly! Which means we have to watch it one more time to really make sure.”

You roll your eyes at him but relent without another word; you still had an hour and a half of the first movie anyways. 

It was a little over two hours later when your parents got home from work to find the two of you seemingly in conversation, only to realize the movie in front of you had no sound and it was just you and Chenle switching back and forth quoting each line - neither of you cutting the other a break should there be a moment of hesitation…so half of the script was recounted in between laughs and over the other’s teasing. Needless to say, once the Curry documentary started, there had been significantly less cuddles than before, but your cramps, however painful they may have been, were the last thing on your mind. It was only when you sat down for dinner that reality came flooding back over you, suddenly making it hard to sit down again. Trying not to focus on the pain, you instead thought about how pain-free the past few hours have been. You hated that Chenle knew what would work so well…you hated that he wouldn’t always be here to make it work again. 

After dinner, your parents made their way out back to enjoy the firepit and calm night. You and Chenle found yourselves back on the couch, this time old cartoons you used to watch during childhood taking up space on the TV rather than movies. You cuddled into him easily, and he did his best to love on you enough to make the pain go away again.

When your parents finally came back inside, the TV was still running but you and Chenle were asleep against each other, his arms wrapped around you protectively as the two of you shifted so that you were laying down on top of his figure rather than just leaning against his shoulder. Your parents just let out light sighs, sad smiles covering their faces as your dad turned off the TV and your mom laid a blanket over the two of you before texting Chenle’s aunt and letting her know that Chenle wouldn’t be making his way back across the street tonight. They weren’t sure if they were feeding the beast by letting the two of you spend the night together, but it was too hard on their hearts to impose a future reality when you guys were so at home living in the present. 

The morning sun eventually made its way through the windows to disrupt the darkness of your unconscious state. Still refusing to open your eyes, you just turn your head so that you're facing away from the window. Though, that’s when a hand lightly trails through your hair to move it away from your face, and you realize you’re still against Chenle’s chest. At once, you blink awake, and when you move your gaze to look at Chenle, you can hear the snap of silence as his breath gets caught in his throat. He shakes out of it with a smile, once again running his fingers through your hair as he begins to speak softly. “God, I wanna wake up next to you for the rest of my life.”

Your face goes fire red and you immediately rush to bury it back in his chest. “Shut up,” you chide. “Why would you say something like that?”

“Because I need you to know that,” he responds in sincerity, kissing the top of your head since your face was still hidden. “I’ll always want it to be you.” His soft confession served to be one of the most reassuring and sweetest things you’ve ever heard, and you knew he meant it wholeheartedly. However, while warmth took over 98% of your body, there was the other 2% overcome with a certain uneasiness. With Chenle claiming that he would always want it to be you he wakes up next to, it was the first time you felt a sense of pity for the girl on the other end of this arranged marriage with Chenle, because while you could never be her, she would never be you.

You push the thought to the back of your mind, sure anyone around you would call you crazy for feeling pity for his future wife. Instead, you pick your head back up and press a light kiss to his lips, and just like that, 75% of the rest of summer nights and early mornings saw you and Chenle asleep against each other. 

All too soon, Chenle was accompanying your family as you moved into your college dorm. There was a week left before the first day of classes, and in between now and then, Chenle would have his fateful flight back to Shanghai. You had spent the past few nights crying yourself to sleep - well, if it wasn’t a night you and Chenle were spending together. All you wanted to do was be strong for him, your mind a constant loop of how sorry he looked as he asked to be selfish for the summer and indulge in his feelings. The last thing you wanted was for him to actually feel bad about it, to know how painful it truly was for you, when you knew he was going through the same thing himself. You didn’t need to add to the heavy weight on his shoulders imposed by almost every other figure in his life. So, you kept your tears to yourself. It wasn’t that hard anyways, being in Chenle’s presence meant a constant smile was on your face without ever having to think about it. 

Once all your things were put away and you could pass as ‘moved in,’ you stood opposite your parents in the doorway to your dorm as Chenle used the bathroom. With a few words and quite a bit more unspoken ones, your parents made themselves conscious of the time on their watch and then bid you goodbye for a bit. 

When Chenle came back out from the bathroom, he looked around for your parents, but his shoulders instantly fell once he failed to lay eyes on them. Instead, he turned to you in complete seriousness, pointing a thumb out to the side towards where your bed was as he looked at you with raised brows. “Can I be the first to fuck you on your dorm bed?” He asks plainly, and despite yourself, a loud laugh erupts from your chest.

“Chenle!” You chide, and the familiar big grin makes its way back across his lips.

“What? Isn’t that a thing?” He laughs off in question as though nothing were amiss. He quickly shakes his head, regaining his serious composure as he begins in his attempts at convincing you. “Regardless, I won’t get to experience it for myself so you should take pity on me. And I want this bed to be able to know me before any other college boy toy,” he states plainly, making you drop your head to hide the smile conjured up by his words.

“So glad you think that after you go back to China, I’ll resort to boy toys,” you shoot back monotonously. Chenle finally fumbles as he rushes to steer your mindset in a different direction.

“Okay, it came out wrong. That’s not what I meant,” he assures, but you stare back at him with raised, uninterested brows.

“Yes it was,” you reply immediately, but with the smallest peek of a smile from you, Chenle loses his tension again, ducking his head into his shoulders with a dumb laugh.

“I know.”

You shake your head at him to accompany the eye roll. “I hate you,” you say through a laugh, much to your dismay because you could not sell the bit to save your life. Chenle knew it, too, as he pops back up to look in your eyes with nothing but a tease behind his own. 

“So, that’s a no to fucking on your dorm bed?” He questions, making it seem as though that were your least desired possibility rather than his own. His mind games didn’t need to work, though, as you shake your head with a fond smile this time, taking a step towards him to kiss his lips softly.

“I already told my parents to explore the campus,” you admit, and Chenle’s kissed lips turn into a childish grin that he had to calm down from before he could even think about kissing you again. 

“Hmm…I think I like my bed better,” Chenle finally says, tossing your shirt back over to you as you both now sit up in your bed. You can’t help the laugh that escapes you at his words.

“Well, I would hope so,” you tease. “Yours is a King as opposed to this Twin.”

Chenle shakes his head, dismissing your banter as he responds with more contemplation than the situation called for. “No, I mean, the bigger bed is nice but I don’t think that’s it. I think this one is just a little too squeaky,” he concludes with resolve. All you can do is laugh, leaning over to place a fond kiss on his cheek.

“You had high standards for plastic-covered springs,” you joke as you pull back. Chenle looks over at you with raised brows.

“I have high standards in general. That’s why I like you,” he responds, and instead of letting yourself get embarrassed by how flustered that statement was about to make you, you nudge him in the side with a roll of your eyes. 

“Whatever. We both know I was too low maintenance for you to originally fathom,” you reply, and Chenle finally lets a huge smile break across his face.

“We were kids in a suburb and I came from money…there was a lot I couldn’t fathom,” he recounts seriously. You move your head to look over at him by your side, a soft smile on your lips as the playfulness behind your eyes begins fading to match it. 

“I’m glad you finally came around,” you start with sincerity. “The suburb will be sad to see you go.” 

Chenle lets out a heavy breath at your words, the weight of reality seeming to hit you both at the same time. He finally nods his head a little, not in agreement but something like contemplation. “Speaking of, I guess we should get back to it. Now that we moved you in, we have to move me out.” The words are bitter on his tongue. The two of you did an immensely good job at sticking to the present throughout this past summer, but now that the present involved the first steps of the dreaded future, it was hard to stay lighthearted. You did your best, though, responding with a faint laugh.

“Yeah, I’m sure my parents have just about exhausted every way they can keep themselves busy anyways,” you point out playfully, and Chenle finally seems to remember he’s still sitting shirtless in your bed. He looks over at you, realizing he’s the only one to have fallen behind on getting dressed again, and with a matching laugh, he begins to remedy that.

“I can’t believe how chill your parents are,” he replies with a bit of awe as he pulls his t-shirt over his body. 

You shake your head at him, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in thought. “They’re not, they just like you.” Your reply is more serious again and Chenle swings his gaze your way with raised brows. You pull up your own to match, and a small smile plays on your lips as you continue. “If it was anyone else, they would’ve had me by the throat.”

Chenle takes in your cautious figure and furrows his brows, not at all seeing the consequences in the same light you were. “You like that, though,” he replies, nudging you in the side and getting the both of you to laugh. You shake your head, dropping it to cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. 

“Sometimes, I wish you had a filter,” you banter back, but when you uncover your face again to look over at Chenle, his demeanor had completely shifted, as though your laugh had reminded him that he didn’t know how many more times he would be able to hear it. 

“I’m sorry for having to leave,” he says miserably. “Your family has been so nice to me, all throughout childhood and now trusting me with you…” He drags off, his gaze moving across the bed beneath him and over to you, hair messy and lips slightly swollen from his kisses. He shakes his head. “Like this, and I’m just up and leaving.” You can tell he’s getting pissed at himself with every new word, but he doesn’t give you time to jump in right away. “I put you in a position where I knew you’d get hurt. I feel like an asshole.”

Gently, you bring both of your hands to cover over his own against his lap, and he turns his gaze your way at the contact, allowing you to see him physically break from his reverie and instead soften in your presence. “Chenle, you aren’t an asshole,” you reassure. “I knew what I was signing up for at the beginning of summer, and I told my parents exactly how this was going to go, too. No one blames you for having familial obligations. Not me and not my parents. They aren’t mad that you’re the reason my heart is gonna break in a few days, they’re just really really grateful you’ve been the reason behind the happiest three months of my life.” Your words carry enough weight, it was obvious that that’s truly how you viewed the situation. If possible, Chenle felt worse. He was the bad guy here, and you were reframing it for his benefit. He never felt like he deserved you, and had no clue how you managed to think otherwise for the past three months. 

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out. You whip your head towards his face once you hear his shattered tone, and your lips part in disbelief. You always figured Chenle would be the strong one, but today’s proved to you that’s not the case. 

“Hey,” you start, rubbing a thumb beneath his eyes before his tears could fully roll down his cheeks, an accompanying fond laugh to cover over your own heartache. “Don’t get all sad on me now, we still have four days until you leave.” 

Chenle gives a weak smile, catching your hand with his own and bringing it from his eyes down to his lips, pressing a firm kiss to the back of your hand before shifting grips and giving it a tight squeeze. “Let’s go find your parents.” His voice cracks again as he speaks, and he’s finally able to let out an embarrassed laugh in response. You just nod your head, leaning over to grab your phone and find a well-timed text informing you they were waiting at a café on University Boulevard. So, with a onceover in the mirror to make sure the general public wouldn’t be able to tell you and Chenle just fucked, you led him out the door.

Once you got back home, you and Chenle hardly ever left each other’s sides…even less than normal. There was a shift ever since you moved most of your things to university, and everything started to feel a little more real as opposed to the way the rest of this summer felt like an escape from that reality. You both were running out of time, and you couldn’t do anything but be conscious of the fact. It affected Chenle the most, and you could tell from his first touch once the two of you got back. 

Up to now, sex with Chenle was a full-on activity. It was rough, hot, and passionate to say the least - he would fuck you. However, the last four days, the air had completely changed. Now all his movements were softer, slower. He was trying to memorize you. 

His eyes would become distant sometimes, and only he knew that it meant he was replaying the first day he met you - five-year-old him staring judgementally on the sidewalk out front of his aunt’s house as he watched you play with the water hose, getting messy for no reason and having the audacity to laugh with joy because of it. When you met his gaze, you motioned for him to come join you, to which he adamantly shook his head and decided he was never making friends with the kids on the block. However, as he turned around to go back inside, figuring some basketball could wait until all the messy kids were gone, cold water hit his back in a sensation that had him whipping around again. His first thought was to start spouting Chinese words that he heard his parents say sometimes after they got off business calls with ‘imbeciles of clients,’ but instead as he laid eyes on you, just a few feet away now, with a water gun in your hands and the brightest of joys in your eyes, he forgot all his words. All he knew was that he wanted to be friends with the kids on the block. Though, not even that, he just wanted to be friends with you. He swore in that moment you outshone the sun, and he wanted in on your warmth.

If Chenle knew then what he did at fourteen, he’s not sure he would’ve ever allowed himself to get close to you. However, if he knew then what he did now at eighteen, closer to you than he’s ever been, he’s positive he’d go through this heartbreak a thousand times if it meant he got to love you even once, and he wouldn’t have waited so damn long to love you in the first place. 

The last day - the last time, the distant look in Chenle’s eyes wasn’t there at all. Instead, it was filled with non-stop whispered words of how much you meant to him, how much he adored you; his voice occasionally catching in his throat when he got too sentimental, and you’d be reminded of how hard it was for him to articulate his thoughts at all; so all you could think to do was pull him down for a kiss and swallow his words instead. 

Then you blinked and it was already the day of Chenle’s departure. Your parents had been outside most of the morning helping Chenle and his aunt load the car up with his things. You took no part in it. Instead, you sat in your room, hugging your knees and staring blankly. The only tell that you weren’t frozen was the fact that you were chewing on your bottom lip, truthfully destroying it, but it was the only thing you could think to do to ground yourself at the time. 

With a light knock on the door, your mom enters your bedroom and you move your head up to meet her gaze. “Chenle’s sitting outside. We got him all packed up and everything.”

You swallow harshly and your eyes immediately find your knees again. “I know,” you reply shortly, your voice hardly above a whisper.

A sad smile crossed your mom’s face, but when she saw you making no effort to move in response to her words, she let out a sigh. “Sitting in your room doesn’t stop time.” Her words come out flat, like a lecture, and you knew she was trying to juggle how to be both, a ray of comfort and an authority figure. “You still have to say goodbye.”

You shake your head to dismiss the bit of worry held in her tone as she gave you orders. She didn’t have to walk on eggshells around you, it was that you were the one mentally walking on eggshells around your heart. “I’m just trying to keep my emotions from running high,” you say monotonously, finally looking up at her. You watch her eyes widen as she notices the glaze of tears over your own, and shake your head again in frustration before dropping it back down to your lap. “The last thing he needs is to have to leave while I’m in tears. He’ll never want to go.”

Your mom rolls her lips inward, and suddenly she understands why you’ve taken solace in tearing up your own bottom lip before she walked in. Though, with a sigh, she speaks again with her best attempt at unbiased advice. “He already doesn’t want to go - but the fact of the matter is that when you look back on this moment days, months, years later, you’ll want to have said ‘goodbye.’” You shake your head immediately, she was wrong.

“No. I don’t ever want to say ‘goodbye’ to Chenle,” you claim with more force than you thought yourself capable of in such a fragile moment. You glance up to watch the outsider persona she tried to create instead fall away, and she just went back to being your mom.

She fumbled with her thoughts for a few moments, mouth opening and closing again as she shook away everything she didn’t want to say. Finally, she presses her lips to form a thin line, and then is immediately turning around to walk back out of your door. “You can wish him luck, then, but you need to go see him.” As her words come out, straightforward and not open for debate, you realize why she started walking away as she delivered them, because she wouldn’t have been able to face you and give such orders. Her words were still not what you needed to hear, and you both knew that, but she had to exert some authority and get you to at least do what seemed best in the long run; you figure that’s why it was hard for you to take in…you and Chenle didn’t have a long run. The concept of it hurt enough to pull you up from bed and out the front door. 

Without a word, you sit down next to Chenle on the sidewalk, making a chair out of the step in the pathway leading up to his aunt’s house. He moves his head to look over at you, registering that you were next to him. With a breath, you turn to face him as well, a smile on your lips that didn’t quite reach your eyes, though the tears once occupying them were successfully blinked back. 

He ignores your smile of reassurance, instead just looking over you once and nodding his head minimally before facing the front again and leaning his head on your shoulder. That’s how the two of you stayed for a good five minutes. No words exchanged, just your light breaths and his heavy exhales as you run through every thought in your mind. You weren’t sure which ones to say, which ones would make things worse, or if any of them would make things better. 

“Oh!” You startle as the first practical, rather than emotional, thought crosses your mind. “I still have your hoodie, oh my god let me go get-” Your move to get up and run back into your house is ruined by Chenle’s calm words.

“Keep it,” he says immediately, and you whip your head towards him in shock.

“What? Chenle, if I keep it, it’s almost guaranteed you’re never getting it back. We won’t have contact after this.” That was always the deal, he was getting a new phone and his parents were taking any trace of you out of it, blocking your number, the whole nine yards. However, admitting that you weren’t going to have contact after this present moment was incredibly bitter on your tongue. The words make Chenle tense up, too, but he just as quickly continues with a head nod.

“I know. So, keep it. It can be your hoodie, just please don’t forget that it’s mine.” He stops talking once he notices the sorrow in his tone, and you watch as he swallows it back before speaking again, this time with a touch of playfulness. “And even after you stop wearing it, you can give it to your first-born, Chenle, and then it’s Chenle’s hoodie again.” He concludes as though the entire thing made perfect sense, and you didn’t know how to feel with the fact that his banter made this conversation seem so normal. On the one hand, you were grateful when the familiarity fought off any last question of tears, but on the other hand, you hated knowing this was the last time you would get to have a normal conversation with him. 

You settle with rolling your eyes rather than figuring out how to feel. “I’m not naming my first-born ‘Chenle,’” you reply, looking at him with raised eyebrows. You watch as a small smile overtakes his face, but it quickly settles into a grimace and then it’s gone.

“It was worth a shot.” He pauses for a beat before turning to face you, his new tone coming off as desperate, helpless. “Don’t ever forget me, okay?”

You shake your head rapidly as you reassure him. “I couldn’t.”

The two of you stare at each other again in silence for a moment. The time to say goodbye was upon you, which is why the conversation died, which is why you remember what your mom had said in your room, and thus you start with your wishes of luck. “You’re gonna do great, you know? Learning how to run a company and everything. No one’s more capable than you. I’m already incredibly proud of you, not because you’re gonna be a crazy successful business man, but because you’re you. So, when you set foot in your dad’s company, don’t lose that, okay? Everything that makes you Chenle. I’d be sad to see that go just for some bottom line.”

Chenle’s shoulders sink as he turns to face the pavement. “I’ll do my best for you,” he assures with a nod. You want to fill the silence again but hardly have a clue what to say. However, that’s when you see Chenle’s lips twitching and you know he’s in the midst of trying to articulate more of his own thoughts. When he does speak up again, his voice is surprisingly steady. “You know, I’ve been thinking lately. That’s all I could ever seem to do these past few weeks. You know I always struggled finding the right words to say, to let you know how much you mean to me. But lately I’ve found my words. And it’s stupid because it’s so easy,” he says with a scoff, and a wave of uneasiness washes over you as you see the smile he’s able to conjure up. “I’ve been saying it over and over again in my head and it’s so natural. I could’ve been telling you this entire time.”

That’s when clarity hits you and you jump to stop him from saying his next words - you couldn’t handle them. “Chenle, don’t-” You speak up in a rush, but he does, too.

“I love you,” he says firmly, finally bringing his head back up to look at you. His eyes are wide in sincerity, making sure you could see every emotion behind them, how much he meant it. “I love you, y/n l/n. I really do.”

Every last bit of strength you had vanished in milliseconds, and instead you bawled your eyes out sitting on that pavement. “You stupid kid,” you cry out, ramming your head into his shoulder. Underneath you, Chenle froze, and you realize he has no clue if you’re sad or genuinely mad at him. “I’m gonna miss you so much,” you add weakly, a hand coming up to clutch at his shirt. Chenle immediately softens, placing both of his arms around you as best he can. All this time, you had been mentally preparing to comfort him, to be so incredibly strong for him so that he could take his next steps and not feel incredibly guilty for doing so…but now he was the one comforting you as you sobbed in his arms. Chenle could figure out how to articulate his feelings but you couldn’t even get this right - he was stronger than you.

No more words were exchanged between the two of you. He held you in his arms as you tried to rid yourself of tears, but you couldn’t even accomplish that before his aunt gave the first gentle warning that they had to get on the road. Chenle felt you freeze in his arms, and he hated knowing that, regardless of how you wanted to frame it, he was the reason you were crying and torn up like this. If it was up to him, he would’ve never left you; but it wasn’t up to him, so all he could do was leave you with something - his hoodie, and the softest of kisses on the top of your head, getting you to finally pick your head up again so he could place more kisses across the span of your face, slowly but surely kissing your tears away until he made his way down to your lips…and there he finally faltered, letting out a heavy breath against your skin. A last kiss sounded horrible, did he even want one so clearly defined, or was it better for your last kiss to have been yesterday, being able to remember it as basked in love rather than tears. His inner debate was more like a war as his eyes roamed over every inch of your face - what to do? What’s best? Tears were still running down your face but he can't shake how beautiful you look right now…he loves you. How does he kiss you goodbye? How could he ever say goodbye? Does he not do anything at all? He loves you. Is a final goodbye best left unspoken? Unkissed? 

His state of drowning in his thoughts gets cut off as you make the decision for him, leaning in to kiss him softly, and instead he’s drowning in you…and your last kiss. It was delicate and innocent, with the audience you had, it probably would have been weird for it to be any other way. Regardless, he still chases your lips after you pull back - that couldn’t have been it; but then the car starts and his eyes shoot open as they dart over to where his aunt was getting situated in the driver’s seat. Chenle whipped back around to face you and looked terrified, but the roar of the engine was a constant reminder of where he needed to be - he couldn’t put it off any longer. He opened his mouth to say something but no words came out, instead it was just quick, heavy breaths and a scared shake of his head. None of that meant that he wasn’t in the act of standing up from the pavement, making his way to the car…leaving you.

Every step you watched him take as he left was another drop of poison in your bloodstream, a poison you should’ve built up tolerance for already given how many small doses it seemed like you were taking throughout the last three months. Though, you must be kidding yourself - goodnight kisses under the porch light before watching him walk the few steps to the other side of the road were nothing even close to poison; an antidote, maybe, to last you throughout the night and fight off the poison of when you were apart, but there were no more goodnight kisses to keep you going now. It was a different sting, your muscles tightened, you couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. Though, you refused to watch him go, leaving it up to your tears to blur the sight of it. The scene in front of you was nothing other than a tragedy, an ending no one was satisfied with, not because it could’ve ended differently, but because it was always going to end this way. There was no crazy plot twist or invocation of Deus Ex Machina to change the narrative. No, just the same, sad, memorized ending of a story you forgot was your own. You played yourselves for fools, believing you could outrun a truth that only ever gained on you with each stride - that, together, the only thing the two of you needed was what you would never be able to have…more time.

[studiogrimm810]

Midnight Coffee

// Est. Sam Winchester x you

summary: it's late and you can't sleep. at least you're home with sam // ~900 // base content: avoiding sleep, nightmares, sweet and loving sam

A/N: posting this (my first drabble!!) early to make sure i've fixed the glitches in my posts, sorry if this gets deleted :( if so, it means that i have NOT fixed the issue lolol :/

A symphony of insects buzzed in the dense woods just behind your home. It was a crisp summer night, about two in the morning, and you had been completely unable to fall asleep so you came out to the porch for some fresh air. Your porch. The thought alone makes you smile.

You and Sam had moved on from hunting and settled down in this small, cozy home on the outskirts of Lebanon. It has been a few months since you made the move and every day it still feels like a dream that you’re afraid to wake up from.

Dean and Cas visit often, but they decided to stay at the bunker for a little while longer, enjoying the home they found in it from the very beginning, but you and Sam craved a simpler life of a white-picket fenced home with a garden and porch swing to live in in peace.

However, when leaving the bunker and dropping that life behind, you found that the darkness still followed you. PTSD, you accepted from your therapist's diagnosis, haunted you even in this perfect slice of Heaven on Earth. It tainted your sleep and coated your everyday under a nasty goo that dampened the joy you almost had with your new life.

It’s not that you don’t feel that joy still, but you were so broken by your lifetime of loneliness and misery that you couldn’t exactly just leave that behind the steel, 10-inch thick doors of the bunker.

So here you sat, in your favorite spot of the house, the porch swing that Sam installed just for you, for nights like these. You didn’t have it in you to wake Sam up, you never could when it came to restless sleep or taunting nightmares, so you quietly slipped out with a blanket from the living room and settled into the creaky swing to hopefully distance yourself.

But, of course, Sam is Sam and he noticed your absence shortly and has learned that if you’re not in bed, then you’re most likely right where you are now.

“Hey,” he hums before opening the screen door. He tried to announce his presence subtly but you were still startled at his voice. You whipped around in time to watch him push open the door and step out, sleepy eyes drinking you up. “Can’t sleep?” He comes over and sits on the opposite end of the bench, lifting your legs to place them in his lap. His hands mindlessly run up your limbs, soft skin warming under his touch.

“M-mm,” you shake your head, resting it back into the padding of the bench and looking up into the night sky.

“You could’ve woke me up,” he reminds, resting his head back into the bench as well to level with you, looking right at you and cementing your features back into his memory, again. He can’t help himself, he has to memorize you just in case. It’s his own haunting of PTSD.

“I know,” you murmur, meeting his gaze. He looks tired and  you feel bad that your absence woke him up and forced him out of bed. You know he wouldn’t want you to feel that way at all, you just can’t help yourself.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks with a slight squint, knowing it’s a difficult water to tread.

“It’s Hell,” you state simply. Of course, you’ve been stamped with the hunter badge of honor for dying and coming back with a drizzle of Hell during your mortem. His stomach sinks because he knows how stalling that can be for a person, and he hates to be reminded that you, as warm, kind, loving, and pure as you were, still suffered at the expense of The Life.

He just nods, massaging his fingers into the meat of your calf, mixing his moves into your feet and sending warm chills up your back. Your eyes close as you relish the pleasure.

It’s quiet for a while as he continues to slowly work up your legs, keeping steady pressure as he aims to keep you as relaxed as he can. He wants to talk, simple conversation that never got boring with you, but he understands the cloud of trauma that keeps your tongue bit back and words impossible to form.

So instead, he thinks of a simple offer, “coffee?”

Your eyes, reopened and focused back onto the glittered night sky, drift back over to him and a small smile lifts your lips.

“Yes, please.”

His hands move back up your legs, gripping softly at your hips, as he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your thigh before he stands back up again.

“Anything, my love,” he settles the blanket back over your legs, tucking it snug around your frame, and leans down to kiss your temple, hesitating against your skin for a moment to inhale your fruity shampoo.

You watch him disappear back into your home, and he opens the kitchen window so you can hear him work and smell the freshly grinding beans.

This is the life you were destined to have. Even if the shadows hold echoes of your troubled past, fresh coffee on a homey night to keep the dreams at bay is all you could’ve hoped for, especially since the one handing you the mug was your beloved, Sam Winchester.

thank you so much for reading!! <3

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tags: @blossomingorchids @areswasneverhere @bejeweledinterludes @funkenniffler @iamaslytherin0