#it’s actually so fun to play around with how their voices would sound over text

[osamucide]

AKUTAGAWA TEXTS ⊹

[ericscroptop]

Work Hard, Play Harder

✧ pairing: bf! sunwoo x gf! reader

✦ genre: smut w/ hints of fluff

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, p!rn without plot, inexperienced and a bit shy reader, nervous/insecure about sex, fingering, dirty talk, c!m tasting from both, praising, pet names, cursing, kissing, marking, fluff

✦ word count: 5.4k words

✧ synopsis: you laying on his bed is so enticing. he can’t help that he wants to play with you and show your fried brain a little fun.

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How foolish of you to think even for a second that you’d be able to get homework done with Kim Sunwoo in the same room?

Normally, you’d get your assignments and whatnot done in isolation because you work best with minimal-to-zero distractions. But today, you’ve somehow let Sunwoo convince you to do homework in his bedroom.

The past couple days, you hadn’t seen your boyfriend much. Schedules were opposite and conflicting, so it was only today that each of you had a slot of free time.

Still, you recalled that you had a task to complete before a deadline that was approaching. The sooner you finished it, the better.

Today seemed like a perfect day to lock in, but Sunwoo kept texting you that he missed you so much, insisting you two should hang out.

While you also missed him, it would be the smarter choice to get your homework done before you hangout with him. Which, is what you tried to tell him. But while you were mid-text, he was already knocking on your door.

You lectured him for bothering you, knowing you’d fold for his big pleading eyes, plump pouty lips, and his sweet voice.

Next thing you know, he’s telling you to grab your laptop and book bag, and driving you over to his place to work on schoolwork together. There’s a few assignments he should probably get around to doing anyways, too. So, a study date it is then!

That’s how you found yourself lying on your stomach over his bed, head facing the end of it, laptop and other essentials spread out in front. Meanwhile, he sat with his back against his pillows and headboard, laptop sitting over his lap.

After about an hour of having small snacks, chatting, and catching up from the days you’ve been apart, (which is exactly why you needed to be locked up alone to avoid distractions like him), you sighed when you realized the time you let pass and recalled what you were supposed to be doing in the first place.

Perhaps it was good to recharge with Sunwoo before getting to work; that way, you both at least got some of that pent-up excitement out from not seeing each other.

Well… that’s what you had hoped.

Now, you each settled into your own spots on his bed, a blended playlist of you guys’ current favorite songs playing faintly in the back via his laptop. Some sound was needed to fill the silence while you two worked.

You bounced from tab to tab on your screen while you began researching and citing quotes for the paper you’re working on. It’s tedious and frustrating to craft it, but you’re determined to write a mean paper that’ll hopefully get you an A.

Every now and then, you’d just stare at your screen blankly, complaining mentally in discouragement, or trying to conjure up ideas for the way you phrase your next sentences. But in other moments, you get inspired and furiously type away, getting into the groove of having ideas flow out smoothly.

Sunwoo smiles to himself when he hears your fingers clicking the keys at an unremitting rhythm. It seems like you know what you’re doing, when in contrast, his discussion post prompt is sending daggers at him, patiently waiting for him to actually start it.

It’s not difficult to become distracted, especially given the fact that he’s doing something mundane like homework. It’s such a chore, one that was crucial to his academic success.

Bullshitting his assignment or procrastinating even more sounds inviting. Even you had your moments where you don’t try as hard and leave things till last minute because it’s exhausting to even think about. But Sunwoo said you guys would do homework, so he should get on it.

Your form working diligently on his bed only distracted him further. How could he focus when watching your engrossed state looked more appealing?

He’s unable to see your face of concentration, only listening to the occasional exasperated groans that would leave your throat, and watching the way your feet would sway in the air in different directions, at various tempos and patterns. He’s noticed how fidgety you’d get sometimes, particularly with your legs. Your feet also would rub together and draw shapes into his comforter while you worked.

It’s endearing to watch your habits, not aware that he has disregarded his discussion post to admire you instead.

As he’s observing the way your legs roamed freely, he shamelessly starts to wander his eyes over the rest of your body.

Since all you planned for today was to be swamped in your paper, you dressed comfortably. A baggy t-shirt and sweat shorts was your attire of the day.

Your legs are left exposed. He soaks in the detailing of your skin, and runs his eyes to your bottom.

Sunwoo likes to think he’s a respectful man, and you’d definitely agree. He’s always patient with you, respecting your boundaries and has always been a gentleman. He treats you like any other human— with kindness, but is extra affectionate and clingy because he’s obsessed with you.

He thinks highly of you. While he loves you for your personality and quirks, he also sees you as visually stunning. His heart pumps fondly and blood rushes when he eyes your physical features.

While decorous, he has to admit that he does stare at various parts of you for a little too long. How could he not in situations like now, where your rear is facing him? Somehow, your oversized shirt bunched upwards, leaving the swell of your ass for his viewing pleasure.

Even though you were clearly clothed, he still had an imagination. He started picturing how your ass would look unveiled. Thinking about exploring every curve of your body with his lips and hands. Wondering about what delicious sounds you’d make when doing naughty things with him.

Unconsciously, you were tantalizing him.

His mind is going towards the gutter. You’re just trying to write your paper like the good student you were, while he was yearning for some attention from you. You were on the bed together, but you made it clear you meant business.

Though, Sunwoo doesn’t think he can wait much longer to hold you for as long as he pleases.

“Baby, can you read this real quick for me?” he suddenly asks. His eyes are entreating as they look at the back of your head. He still has yet to write a single word for his assignment, meaning he just came up with an excuse for you to pay any mind to him. His laptop isn’t even over him anymore; it’s been pushed to the side.

“Gimme a sec.” you uttered, fingers typing quickly and face still directed towards your screen.

He grins mischievously in the short amount of time you finish writing out one last sentence before switching your focus towards him. The grin falters into a faint smile once you fully turn around, scooting up until you’re right next to him.

“You actually got some work done? I’m impressed.” you scoffed, prepared to read his assignment.

You see he doesn’t bring his laptop to his lap or hand it over to you, making you raise your brows in question. Instead, he makes the move of pulling you in between his legs.

“Hey! What are you doing! Stop—” you choked out but interrupted yourself with broken giggles due to how ticklish you were.

Your heart was pounding, startled and delirious as your form was now in between his legs. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you firmly with your back pressed against his chest.

His chin settles into your shoulder, turning his head to graze his lips over the shell of your ear.

“You’ve been working too hard. Let’s take a break, hm?”

You’re stiff as hell. You guys have kissed one another, made out, cuddled, took naps together, etc., but your body and mind still malfunctioned when you were this near to him.

All the focus centered on the tension from close proximity. You could hear his breathing and sense his air from such fanning over your neck and ear.

“You didn’t actually get anything done, did you?” you muttered, fingers clutching the skin of your thighs as he invaded your personal space. It’s not that you didn’t like it— quite the opposite, actually. You just didn’t know how to react.

“How can I when we haven’t properly spent time together?” he hums, pushing some of your hair back to start leaving soft kisses over your sensitive spots. Instinctively, you shut your eyes and angle your neck, succumbing to his tender gesture.

“Sunwoo… my paper.” you reminded him as his kisses were seemingly growing fervid. Somehow your shirt exposed your shoulder, riveting him to redirect his mouth to the spot. A hand of his rubs your clothed tummy, dragging wet kisses across the bare skin.

Your body shivers, goosebumps appearing instantly. Uninhibitedly, you squeezed your thighs and let out a shaky breath. Your body temperature was rising and you felt so small.

“It can wait. I can’t. I missed you so much.” he voices. His hands loosen from your stomach and he brings one of them to your hair, smoothing over your locks.

By this point, you gathered strength to turn your head somewhat to look at him. With his free veiny hand, he cups your cheek, searching every inch of your face with his orbs as if he’s trying to memorize it.

“Did you miss me, too? Tell me you missed me.” his big dark, yet soft eyes hold vulnerability and longing. His look leaves your throat parched, still growing hot all over. You even feel something akin to a heartbeat down south between your legs.

Sunwoo was so needful. That’s one of the things you liked about him. He was cool and collective to the public and friends, but when around you, he never abstained his openness about how much your presence soothed him.

“You know I always miss you.” you answered, still maintaining eye contact with him as he continued to hold your cheek. Deep down, he knew your answer but still wanted to be affirmed aloud. It contented him, but he needed you to touch him back now.

He takes initiative to close more distance between you two, leaning his face further until his nose is brushing against yours.

You can feel each other’s breath face to face. He brushes his features over yours, his nose and lips grazing past your own in a gentle back-and-forth motion.

“Kiss me, baby.” he ghosts over your lips. You’re breathless by just his teasing actions, your own nails digging into your thighs to keep yourself grounded.

It’s impossible to refuse his precious plead. He’s caught you like a fish on a hook. You fall for the bait of his charms, and connect your lips with his own.

The kisses shared start out moderate, lips meeting and touching, pressure light. Your back still rests against his chest, slightly at an angle to continuously kiss him. He keeps you near to his liking by not letting that one hand of his part from your face.

It doesn’t take long before a few tastes make you both greedy.

The sounds of your lips puckering and the sensation of one another’s appendage meeting together creates heightened sensations. You each start fighting for more. It evolves into something wetter, his tongue darting out to flick against yours, tongue tips touching.

Desperation clouded your mind with the way this has grown into making out. Sunwoo has your body unable to remain calm, wiggling and unthinkingly pushing your core down into his mattress

Your breathing alongside his, has grown heavier. Although whipped in chasing your lips, he clearly catches the low moan that lets out your throat.

The naughty sound has him smirking against your mouth. There’s excitement within him, mentally and physically. His manhood is getting pumped full of blood, warming up and swelling the more you two make out fiercely.

His lustful instincts get him to maneuver his free hand towards your thigh. Since your shorts were generously short, he had easy access to your bare skin. His palm and fingers stroked it, making your spine and pussy shiver at how close he was to your private area.

As you two continue with the fiery embrace, he’s only wishing for more contact and intimacy. His fingers start trailing towards your inner thigh, dangerously closer to your covered sex.

Having his hand near such a concealed and sensitive spot makes you shut your thighs together on impulse, thus squeezing his hand in the process.

You butt your back against him the more touchy he gets, causing you to take note of something firm prodding into your lower back.

If you’re not mistaken, you think that is his—

“You got me so hard, baby.” Sunwoo rumbles, parting lips for a moment to catch your breaths. He’s burning for more of you. And while he also is igniting something within you, you’re unfamiliar in what happens next.

“Feel that? It’s ‘cause of you doll.” he slightly pushes himself against you, as if you two aren’t already close together. His erection is hard to not notice now, bringing you interest yet anxiousness.

While you guys have been dating for a decent amount of time, there hasn’t been any initiation of doing anything past kissing and cuddling. You didn’t think much of it— as you were still a virgin. And as horny as you still got from time-to-time, you were a tiny bit apprehensive for the day you did do something sexual with someone.

You imagine that right now is when things go further for you two.

“Sunwoo… I haven’t… I’ve never…” your cheeks got hot and reddened, feeling a bit embarrassed to have this conversation. You didn’t want to let your boyfriend down or kill the mood.

He stilled behind you, eyes softening once your words clicked in his head. Your eyes avoided his own, fidgeting with your limbs.

Although you felt mortified, Sunwoo believes he should be the one to feel ashamed. You two never had the conversation of sex before, so how would he have known? But nevertheless, the last thing he’d want you to feel is distressed or cross a boundary he shouldn’t have.

“Shit… did I make you uncomfortable? Hey, look at me.” he thumbs your cheek with one hand while the other goes to enfold one of your own, holding it lovingly.

You do look at him, worried that you’d disappoint him with your lack of experience, palms all sweaty.

“I… I’ve never done anything past making out.” you admitted more clearly.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything if you’re not ready or comfortable with it. I’m sorry if I got too carried away.” he offers you an apologetic look, still caressing your cheek delicately.

“We should get back to doing our homework. I shouldn’t have bothered you.” his voice is genuine, tinged with regret of letting his hormones loose.

The look on his face, the way he shows that he respects you, and his apology (that you believe was not needed but still kind), has you melting. He’s definitely sheepish, but you don’t want him feeling that way.

If anything, Sunwoo was working you up. Sexual frustration was becoming a bitch to you. Your core’s experiencing a wind of warmth, unable to dismiss it. You think you need some sort of alleviation.

“Babe,” you reached a hand up to his hair, shaking your head while massaging his fluffy strands.

“I really want to do stuff with you. So bad, Sunwoo.” there’s so much honestly within your words and tone, longing and sentiment coating your orbs.

“I just don’t know… I don’t know how i’ll react or if you’ll like me.” you almost whisper, suddenly insecure of yourself now that you’re admitting this aloud to your boyfriend.

Every now and then, you wondered what it would be like to get intimate with another person. It would be vulnerable for you to show your bare body to someone. You can’t help but overthink that Sunwoo might not feel satisfied with you, or that you wouldn’t enjoy it— possibly finding it uncomfortable, instead.

Without a doubt you trusted him, but fearing unfamiliar territory was natural. You simply didn’t know what to expect.

How would you know unless you actually tried it?

A scoff comes out of Sunwoo, followed by an empathetic smile.

“Of course I like you, silly girl.” he chuckles, reaching for the hand that was in his hair and connecting it with his own. He gives it a reassuring squeeze, prompting the corners of your lips to raise in seeing and hearing him make that gentle sound.

“I love you, Y/n.” I will cherish every part of you. You’re so damn beautiful.” he brings your hand to his lips, dotting soft kisses over your knuckles. His other hand stays on your hip protectively.

“You’re safe with me. I wanna treat my girl right. I’m yours.” he means all of it, clear sincerity as bright as day twined in his tone and words.

Hearing his words is dulcet to your ears. There’s this wave that washed over you. It’s like a sea that gets you lost. Lost but secure from his touches and statements.

“I want you to feel comfortable with me. You’re the priority here. If you don’t wanna do anything that’s completely fine.”

“But if you wanna, we can start slow. If you give me the okay, i’ll take care of where it aches.”

It feels like your tummy does a somersault at that. You’re positive your cheeks are flushing, all rosy with how he always knows the right things to say. He really does care about you.

As if on cue, your pussy throbs more when he acknowledges that it must be craving for some stimulation.

You’re feeling so shy about letting him see or touch your bare sex, but one look at those bambi eyes of his and you think you’re ready. Ready for Sunwoo to help pleasure you.

Amenability glazes your eyes when you look at him. Although still slightly lacking confidence, you’re sure you want to take your relationship somewhat further.

“Okay…” it comes out faintly from your voice. You pause for a few before gaining strength to speak up a bit. “Touch me, Sunwoo. Please.”

Sunwoo’s gaze is tender as you spoke with vulnerability, granting him permission to un shield a part of yourself that you reserved for someone you trust and care for deeply.

That someone being him.

A part of him is nervous to touch you. He’s not planning on going past fingering with you for now, but he still wants to make this an enjoyable experience for you.

Aside from that ounce of concern, his body is overly excited to reach third base with you. It’s been awhile since he’s sensually touched someone else. Your existence brought him so much warmth, and he often craved to have you in sexual ways.

He’s been a patient boy. And now, you were going to allow for him to rub you as he pleased.

He’s determined and delighted to give you some delectable pleasure. To show you how much he cares about you through this new form of intimacy.

You feel like you’re hallucinating and definitely are perspiring and clammy from anticipation. Even so, you weren’t going to let your nerves fuck you over. You wanted to try this.

Once more, he double checks to ensure your consent, and you simply nod with a positive ‘yes.’

“I’ll take it slow. Just relax for me and I’ll do all the work. Lemme know if you wanna stop or if anything hurts, alright, baby?

“I love you, Sunwoo.” you smiled, all misty eyed from how caring he was being in this moment.

“I love you, too, Y/n.” he returns your smile, then gravitates his lips towards yours. You kiss passionately, but the embrace of lips is still smooth. It further stresses the respect and cosmic attachment he has for you— and vice versa.

After lip locking, his hands begin to explore your skin. With you sitting in between his legs, he directs you to lean back comfortably. His hands creep their way under your shirt, tracing your bare sides up and down like he had all the time in the world.

He also patted at your stomach, smoothing over it protectively. Instead of diving his fingers straight into your sex, he wanted to ease up your body first to get used to these sensual touches of his.

Slithering downwards from your abdomen, he continues to love up on your body, massaging the flesh of your thighs.

It’s his mission and wish to soften your core and muscles, getting you to enjoy this moment. Additionally to his tactile movements, he pairs them with words laced with so much sugar that he’s starting to give you a rush.

“Body so soft.”

“Never wanna let you go.”

“You belong here in my arms, hm.”

“Such a sweet, sweet girl.”

In between compliments, he rotates from kissing your temple, cheek, and the corner of your mouth. Your head rests back against his shoulder, eyes resting shut as you feel yourself getting more and more comfortable and aroused by the minute.

When his dominant hand finally finds itself in between your legs and over your clothed crotch, your breathing grows shaky from him cupping at it, shivering at the hold.

“You okay?” he doesn’t remove his hand but stills it, making sure you’ve not grown uncomfortable.

To answer, your thighs squeeze his hand, willingly grinding down into it.

“Keep going, show me more.” you whimpered, getting Sunwoo to smug at your reaction to his efforts. Oh, just you wait.

“Gonna take off your shorts, hm?”

You let him do it, and when they’re off, your bottom is left in your cotton panties. They’re not the most sexy undergarment, and you honestly wish you would’ve worn a different pair. But that was not on Sunwoo’s mind at all.

All he cared about was that he’s one more layer closer to his treasure. He’s beyond excited to meet your pussy. The view of your soft panties being the only thing that comes in between his hand and your folds is heart-stopping.

His fingers experimentally touch your pussy lips through the fabric, slightly applying pressure teasingly. You quake at the touch, a breath stuck in your throat as he strokes the area.

His plump lips part and shift into an amused expression, pleased in how he’s getting you going.

“Hurry… please, Sunwoo.” you whined, cheeks definitely blushing at how overly needful you sound— and are.

A chuckle escapes from Sunwoo’s throat, “Patience, doll. You’ll get my fingers, ‘kay?”

Given how keyed up you are, he strips the last bit of fabric off with your cooperation. Now tossed away, your sex is exposed to the air, and Sunwoo finally gets to touch it raw.

His fingertips carefully sweep over your vulva, tonguing at his teeth when he feels moisture. You shyly mewl at the bare contact.

“Fuck, so wet for me. You excited, baby?” his throat rumbles.

You whined again, red-faced at the vulnerability of all this. In response, he kisses your cheek for comfort, still exploring your outside parts.

“Don’t be embarrassed. How can you be so cute and sexy, hm?”

Before you know it, he finds your clit and nudges at it with diligence, earning a squeak turned moan from you. Bingo.

It inclines you to push your hips upwards, squirming at your boyfriend touching you like this. It’s so different to have someone else play with your cunt. Different, but you can see yourself becoming addicted to it.

He only allows himself to tease your bundle of nerves for a few before diverting his fingers lower, starting to trace around your hole.

“Relax for me.” he murmurs. You let out a breath, allowing him to use his left hand to rub your knee in support, and encourages you to spread your legs out a little more. “Doing so good. Yeah, that’s it.”

After coaxing you, he unexpectedly removes his hand away from your sex. You huff out and draw your mouth open in confusion and protest, but nothing else comes out when you watch Sunwoo stick a finger in between his lips, too stunned at the close-up scene of something so erotic.

For extra insurance, he pops a finger in his mouth to lube it with saliva, lathering it well. He’s aiming for this to go as smoothly as possible.

He smirks while you watch, humming before taking it out and moving back to your cunt.

Once again, he circulates over your entrance, teasing you more before he at last, slips that one finger prudently past your slit.

A whimper bounces out of your mouth from the initial stretch, accommodating to the sensation of your boyfriend’s finger making its debut.

“Ahhh, mhm…”

“Shhhh… It’s okay, I gotchu. Gonna make this feel so good for you.” He gives you heartening kisses, still lingering not that far in yet, giving you time to soak it in slowly.

He’s pretty patient. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you. Even if you’re impatient for it, he keeps his movements gentle and careful.

A little at a time, he has a decent portion of his finger inserted. He doesn’t move immediately so you can fully adjust.

You then give him the green light, and so he starts playing with your inside.

His finger testingly swirls, intrigued to discover this new territory that gets to be his home— for hopefully forever.

Soft moans come out your mouth before you realize, and you’re suddenly too aware of this intimate situation, feeling like you’re getting a fever.

It’s taking everything in you to not squirm. You opt for burying your face into your boyfriend’s neck in attempt to cover more smutty sounds and burning face.

Sunwoo is displeased with that, though. He halts his finger, pausing any action.

Your brows furrow and the sudden lack of motion has you lifting your head up.

“Why’d you stop?” your eyes were filled with worry. Maybe he’s bored or something’s wrong?

“Don’t hide from me.” his voice is serious. “Lemme hear those pretty moans”

Oh.

His finger moves again. Only this time, he starts to curl it and begins a slow flow of driving it in and out of you.

“Hmmphhh!” you whimpered, breath shaky and heart beat ascending at how sensational it is to have someone fucking you with just their finger.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he smirks, not planning on stopping until he pushes you to your breaking point.

Your sex hormones are going wild, feening for incessant sexual pleasure until you can’t take it anymore.

You’re bucking down to meet the movement of his finger, it having grown not enough rather quicker than you anticipated. Sunwoo has to titter at that, wowed to see how fast you’ve adjusted, and yearn for more.

Since you’re so desperate, he doesn’t warn you when he pushes a second finger past your hole. You gasp, followed by a curse word at the additional stretch.

“Shit, this tight pussy must love me.” his voice is breathy and deep as he feels your walls grip at his fingers.

He’s fucking your cunt now with two fingers, gradually with more pressure and firmer. His fingers pump against the ridges of your walls, moving and bending them, thus bringing you highly concentrated pleasure to your core.

Your arousal soaks his long fingers, above turned on that your hot boyfriend’s hand is creating a new high for you that you thought was unimaginable.

He inflames you even more when he starts to nip at your neck. His mouth’s latched onto your skin while down below, his thrusts just become deeper and deeper. He’s too keen on giving you a divine time that you’d think about for the rest of your life.

“Right there, Sunwoo! Oh my God, s-so good!” you gasped out when he hits a spot that scratches your senses so good.

“Right there, huh?”

Luckily, your boy knows what he’s doing, so he continues to hit that spot continually and not let up. He believes now is when he enhances your brain and body further by making use of his thumb to position over your clit.

He thumbs at your swollen bud, massaging it in an unhurried, but consistent rhythm.

And that sparks something inside you lower region. If you thought your pussy was aching before, it definitely is now.

Your breaths sound quicker and he takes note of you bringing a thumb to your mouth, biting down on it while mewls still slip past your lips. His pumps persist while your walls suck his fingers in like a vacuum as he moves in and out.

Every sound and the sight of you writhing, unable to remain calm, encourages him to not dwindle down on his ministrations.

The pressure applied towards your clit is even but remains slow, making you savor every second of stimulation you get, gradually increasing and turning almost-tender to be touched.

Hot pangs hit in your belly, and you feel like you’re starting to sweat, blood pressure spiking. You’re whimpering pathetically, muscles burning and tensing to break free and let yourself collapse.

It’s clear to Sunwoo that you can’t handle this any longer, evident he’s going to bring you to cum.

Squishy sounds and breathy moans are harmonic to the ears while he’s focused on getting you to snap.

“Gonna cum on my fingers? Is baby girl gonna let my fingers get even more soaked with her cum?”

Mhmphhh! Su— Sunwoo.” you cry out.

“Go ‘head. Lemme feel it.” he coaxes, and like the good girl you are, you do let loose.

As your knot unties, you deeply moan, hand that was near your mouth now gripping at his comforter. Your orgasm takes over you, shivering slightly, ass and thighs becoming spastic.

Your eyes are heavy and you see stars that are sparkling and fading, any sounds coming from the two of you sounding distant as you come down.

“I’m so proud of you, doll.” he mumbles as you catch your breath, face falling into his neck. While his fingers still remain in you, he uses his free hand to caress your head, commending you for staying strong and cumming for him.

As you progressively revert closer back to normal, your mind softens, and you’re craving to melt against your boyfriend. You need to logout from reality, Sunwoo having tired you out from getting busy with your pussy.

He coos at you when he makes you whimper and lift your head at the removal of his fingers. To your surprise, he then gravitates those fingers towards his mouth, closing around them and seemingly drinking up whatever stuck to his digits.

Your eyebrows furrow, joined with the part of your lips at him willingly tasting your fluids. He just looks at you, making exaggerated sounds from sucking and sends you a flirty wink.

You shiver and divert your gaze in shyness, flushing as you look back curiously, watching him pull out his licked-clean fingers.

“I knew you’d taste good.” he growls from the act and your essence getting savored by his taste buds.

“Wanna try?” he asks like nothing, seeing that you’re not calling him out for it, just eyeing him inquisitively.

You don’t say anything, but you still have that look gracing your orbs. He dips his fingers down to your core again, lathering them up in more of your spilled cum. You feel tingly during those seconds that he does so, and he raises them up again, nodding at you if you wanted a taste, too.

Your face leaning in slowly is enough of an answer for him, so he goes to hold your chin with the other hand, delicately slipping his fingers into your hot mouth.

You kindly close around them, timidly licking a finger tip for just a second, then getting comfortable to lap up the rest of your own spills. Your teeth even rake over his digits and your eyes fluttered shut with a hum before opening them.

When you do, there still lays a cutey-appearance behind those eyes he adores, even with you licking your own cum.

From that moment, he recognizes that his obsession for you will be death of him.

“Fuck…” he breathes out, stroking the tip of your chin.

“That’s all you, baby girl.”

“So perfect.”

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[vxnuslogy]

— to you, who finally saw the sun.

pairing: sunday x gn!reader

premise: to you, who finally saw the sun, i bid you one final farewell.

— warnings: angst (kinda, i also dont know), bittersweet goodbyes, they do kiss yippie, written before the 2.7 update.

— author’s notes: in honor of getting e1s1 sunday, have this actual final stellaronhunter!sunday fic. art credits to 隐世樱yyy on weibo. also, fun little easter egg, colored texts are a reference to previous stellaronhunter!sunday fics i've made, so yeah!! maximum emotional damage!!!!!| ~2.8k words.

— tags: @ryescapades @mitsvriii @https-sourlimes @dazaisms @st6rly @pneumosia @tetrachrxmacy ; if you'd like to be tagged, please fill out the forms on my pinned or post or send me an ask off anon!!

how long has it been since sunday played the piano?

he can’t quite remember the last time he pressed a finger to the delicate white notes and let its noise resound in the room. but he does recount the harsh judgemental stare his instructure had whenever he made a mistake—a note lingering too long and going off course, it always led to the snap of a ruler to his wrist.

“do you play?” a voice from behind asked.

sunday turned around to capture the stars in your eyes. when he met your gaze halfway, a gentle smile grazed his lips before his golden eyes skidded to the instrument once more. “yes, i do. though i have not played in years.”

he heard the click of your shoes as you approached. sunday took a peek from the corner of his eyes as you longingly stared at the grand piano in front of you both. your gloved hands gliding over the polished wood before you eventually sat down by the small stool. you turn your head to him, hair fluttering with the wind as he feels the remaining breath in his lungs be taken away because of your smile. you patted down the space beside you and sunday reluctantly took it.

“will you play me a song?” your request was nothing but a small plea, one exhale away from crumbling. sunday didn’t know about that—he never will. you mask the desperation in your voice when the first note rang and sunday looked at you with a smile.

“i apologize if it sounds rusty,” he looked bashful and bare in this light. drapes of white clouds, dark blue galaxies, and golden suns hang from his body and you couldn’t help but stare. the wings behind his ears flutter in embarrassment with your silence so you laugh—forced, melancholic, and unlike you. 

“i’ll love anything you play, sunday.” and you weren’t lying.

when the following notes soon echoed in the empty music room that was once reserved for only kafka, you let your desire to be close to him consume your entire being. sunday flinched slightly when your head fell on his shoulder, but didn’t shrug you off. with a flustered clear of his throat he continued.

sunday played the piano like it would be his last performance—forever caging himself to the audience after this performance to never take the stage again. he felt your emotions like they were tangible items courtesy to the halo behind his head, because the following song, he briefly muttered “for you” under his breath.

you both relished the moment spent by each other’s side. 

to sunday, this song was dedicated to the person who dragged him onto the stage once more. despite all his reluctance, difficult attitude, and past grudges, he will always bathe you in a golden light like the followers of xipe. singing choirs about your greatness till the end of time as he remained as your faithful follower. this was his thank you to you, and he felt it would never quite repay the kindness you’ve given him.

but to you, this was goodbye. each note, though filled with tender affection and cherished dreams, pinched at your heart like tiny pins and needles. you looked up to gaze at his face—calm, moved on from the past, and freed. though not fully, his contract with jade still remains, he was as free as the express travelling the cosmos. 

this was goodbye.

“will you play a song for me too, sunny?” a voice from the entrance joked.

there stood kafka, in her usual attire but without the coat, leaning by the door frame with arms crossed over her chest. you chuckled as sunday hid his embarrassed and flushed face, finding an excuse to say “no.” because everyone knew—order or finality—that sunday will only play for you.

“nothing to worry about angel,” kafka seemed solemn as she cleared her throat. she motioned for both of you to get up and follow her. “new mission is here. be sure to do your best, m’kay?”

sunday furrowed his brows as his wings twitched in confusion. kafka only took a few steps forward before leaving you two alone once more. you shook your head as you took his gloved hand in yours and tugged him in the direction of his new home. even though it's been a while since he joined, sunday still never voiced his worries—a habit you hope will slowly die out once he arrives at the boarding station.

“where are we going this time?” he asked. now he only realized your new attire and he feels his eyes wander. a black undershirt and pants, layered with a white asymmetrical coat. the gold cuffs of your sleeves caught the moonlight and casted a faint glow of your tears. sunday doesn’t get the chance to say something when a body crashed onto his back.

“good luck, mister,” silver wolf buried her face onto his back. arms tightly wrapped around his waist. if you looked closely, you would notice the way she slowly started stepping back—trying to prevent sunday from going out the doors he once entered from.

but sunday only chuckled. he turned to face the girl, patted her head and squatted down to her height as he slowly tried to pry the arms hiding her tear stained face. “it’s going to be alright, i have [name] with me, remember? they’re elio’s favorite, remember?”

the girl gripped the sleeves of his coat with an iron grip. sunday frowned in sadness, he hated seeing the girl so upset over a mission. and all you did was stand there, motionless as the clock by your waist continued to tick.

“sunday.” you call and you don’t know what shattered you the most: silver wolf’s fresh tears, or how sunday cradled and shielded her from your harsh reality.

silver wolf eventually peeled herself away. with a harsh motion, she wiped away all her tears and returned to her quirky self, “you better beat the final boss! if you don’t, then don’t bother to show yourself to me ever again!”

sunday nodded and once he reached your side, he waved the silver haired girl goodbye and fell into the same steps as you. each turn, each stairway taken to reach the skies, it drowns your lungs in realization. and like the time when you were both drenched in the rain, the ticket in your back pocket suddenly felt heavier than it should.

“leaving without as much as a word?” 

you both stopped in your tracks and turned around. the hallway was dimmed, your only witness being the moon in its full glory. sunday was the first to break the delicate silence with a soft utter of ignorance, something you never realized could happen.

“a mission that requires both of us,” he replied, a sketchy smile on his lips as he slowly shielded your vision of the immortal man from view. “we won’t take long. it won’t end like it did back in the capital of passion. i promise.”

you felt blade’s judgeful stare before he let out a heavy sigh. he threw a small journal bound by beds of stars onto his hands and handed you a sheathed sword. “i expect you to be back before dawn.”

sunday nodded and you don’t have the heart to tell him that blade wasn’t speaking to nor about him. 

“sunday wait!”

right when you were about to board your car—a testimony to your genius in engineering, sunday still wondered how you got it to work like the express. firefly ran out the door with nothing but her sleep attire. she clutched a small item to her chest as sunday looked at you. you hated the look of expectation in his irises, but you still relent. with a heavy sigh, you muttered, ‘5 minutes’ before you entered the car. sunday nodded like an obedient servant and met firefly halfway.

“i–!” she tried to find the words to say, but they always fell short by the time a sound escaped her lips. but sunday was understanding, he was kind, so he waited. like a dutiful older brother letting his baby sister come out of her shell.

beats of silence passed before firefly settled on a simple goodbye, “please take care on your mission.” she took his hand and handed him a small pen. his name delicately engraved on the fountain pen’s cap in her handwriting. 

the wind howled and she shivered. and like a moment right before a mission started and ended, sunday took off the white hood over his shoulders and draped it over her. “thank you, firefly. i’ll be sure to put it to good use.”

sunday wished firefly told him the rest of her thoughts, but he saved them for another time he will never have. even as he buckled the seatbelt in your car and drove off, firefly tried to chase after you. and if he looked close enough, soft glimmers of hopeful tears would be seen.

“you never answered my question.”

you looked at him from the rearview mirror. the way he carefully placed the fountain pen in the journal and the way he softly grazed the cover—afraid that the small book would shatter under his fingertips.

“it must have slipped my mind. what was your question again?”

“where are we going?”

you wet your lips and tighten the hold on the steering wheel. you don’t answer immediately. instead, you let your vehicle warp through space like a nameless traveler through the stars. when you start unbuckling your seatbelt, sunday follows shortly and you both get out.

“penacony.”

sunday feels his vision blur and merge into one giant puddle. he feels you drape another hood identical to the one he gave firefly as you harshly tugged it over his head. your hand finding its way to his and tug him towards a familiar direction.

“h-hold on!” he cries out in a desperate plea, but you don’t turn around. “what business could we have in penacony?! and,” sunday’s eyes wander again over your figure and feels dread start to bubble in his stomach—you weren’t wearing a disguise like you did in past missions.

you don’t answer and sunday feels his wings hug his abdomen tighter and tighter. he can already imagine the ghostly hands of the family—even under robin’s guidance—do unspeakable things to you. sunday can’t have that, he will never allow you to be caged in their clutches like they did with him. so with all the force he could muster, all the while being mindful of your comfort, he caught your wrist in a firm hold and turned around. tugging you in the direction of your home.

“sunday.”

“apologies, but i promised blade. bare with me for a moment longer.”

“sunday.”

“[name], please.”

“sunday.”

“cease the uttering of my name! do you not understand the position we are in right now?!”

sunday never shouts���not in anger, but in worry. he takes gulfs of air into his lungs as if he’s being dragged to the bottom of the ocean as he looks at you with blown eyes. his wings flapping erratically, fanning the reddening of his face as the pair by his waist briefly flutters. if you close your eyes and listen carefully, you can hear the soft clinks of the golden exoskeleton you created just for him.

“sunday,”

“i believe this is where your journey ends, mister sunday.”

“our story is over.”

you feel the world still as small orbs of danger surround you both. a man with whiting hair stands behind him, a cane glowing in pink as you feel your body grow heavier and heavier. welt pushes his glasses up and lets his eyes fall to you.

“[name].” he says in a tense tone. the grip on his cane so tight you’d argue beneath the gloves he wore, his knuckles were turning white in confusion.

“mr. yang.” you reply back, calmer than the loud beating inside the column of bones inside your chest. “please let him go.”

the older gentleman debated in his mind. before sunday could raise a hand, you step forward and force him to face you. you feel your body go back to normal and you sigh. sunday on the other hand, remains on guard as the golden eyes you grew fond off stared at you with emotions that could only be named as betrayal.

“the express misses you, [name].” welt says, “it won’t hurt to say goodbye to them.”

you only nod bitterly. “thank you, mr. yang. but there’s really no need.”

“what do you mean our story is over?” you hear sunday murmur.

you take a shaky deep breath, of all the ways he could ask, why did he do it as if he was about to cry? you shut your eyes tightly, you let your desires consume you again as you interlace your hands together in one final hold before you relax and exhale. when you open your eyes, you feel tears drop one by one like idrila’s blood. welt stays motionless behind him, looking at you both in confliction.

“welt,” you lower both your hands, stepping in front of the angel. “i know this isn’t the reunion you had hoped for. but please believe me when i say that we come in peace. i’ve come to return what is lost.”

welt’s frown deepens, “i take it you aren’t talking about yourself.”

“no, and i never will.” you feel sunday’s arm snake around your waist and his head fall on your shoulder. and suddenly, it felt like your shopping trip with the rest of the hunters was today.

“please wait for us by the golden hour.”

“no…” sunday weakly protests. “i can’t leave, i won’t allow myself.”

“welt. please.”

“mr. yang, please don’t.”

“welt–”

“i’ll wait.” the older man says in a rushed tone. he was quick to turn around and start walking away. it was unlike him, but you don’t blame him. after all, the missing child of the express was now found and the previous head of the oak family were together—with conflicting convictions to top it.

his steps grew fainter and fainter until all you could feel was sunday’s tears and his quiet whimpers, begging you to not let him go.

“sunday,” you mutter, slowly facing him. “our story is over. you need to go.”

“what about you… will you stay behind?”

“i have to.”

“no you don’t!” his volume rises as his arms tighten around your waist. “you can come with me. they’ve been looking for you, they’ll accept you! so please, don’t make me lose you, too.”

you chuckle, and for the first time tonight, you smile genuinely. “silly bird, you’re not going to lose me.”

“but i already have…”

you frown. you try to pull away from his embrace but he still keeps you caged in his arms. “sunday, will you play me a song?”

“enough, please.”

you pat down his hair, pull away just an inch, and cradle his face. “sing me a song about adventures and stars. can you do that?”

“will you come with me if i do?”

you shake your head no and he dives his face into the crook of your neck again. you laugh in disbelief at his stubbornness. it reminds you of the time he first started to try and take flight. how long ago was that memory? you can’t quite put a number on it but it no longer matters.

“sunday,” you sing his name like a song to be remembered. reaching into your back pocket, you take out a golden ticket and gently lay it flat on sunday’s palm. when you meet his eyes again, his wings obscure half of his face. you gently push them away and rub away the tears staining his cheeks and press your foreheads together. “perform. not for me, but the world. your stage is set, all you need to do is step on it.”

his gloved hands hold yours, you feel his head turn for his lips to meet the palm of your hand as presses a soft kiss that leaves the spot tingling. “will you watch me play?”

you drag a knuckle down his nose, an action too affectionate for people who claim to be just “comrades.” suddenly it dawns on you that kafka’s teasing, firefly’s giggles, silver wolf’s eye rolling, blade’s huffs and elio’s script all align for this moment. with a careful step forward, you invade the line with the words “comrades” and look up. you feel his breath on your lips and you smile.

“for all eternity, my eyes will always be yours.” you stand on your toes and press your lips together in a final goodbye. his arms hug your waist just a tad bit tensely as sunday tries his reciprocate—but in the back of your mind, you know he doesn’t have to try. sunday loves you like it's as easy as breathing.

“sunday, congratulations. you’ve finally seen the sun.”

© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.

[bloatedandalone04]

Illicit Affairs

➪the one where leon is yours entirely, even though he is married to someone else.

Warnings: cheating, affairs, swearing, unprotected sex, fluffy sex, mentions of cheating, angst, smut, toxic relationships, small amount of ada slander since that is actually a warning i found out, mentions of divorce and all that fun stuff

Word Count: 3.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Left the door unlocked, just in case. I hope you had a good day.

That was the text Leon is met with as he enters the house he shared with his wife. His thumbs ghosted over the screen, his mind trying to come up with a good enough answer that wouldn’t leave you feeling cheap. There was nothing he could say through text, he decided, and he ended up pocketing his phone and heading towards his bedroom. 

Ada was sitting against the headboard, picking at her freshly painted red nails with a dangerous glint in her eyes. Her engagement and wedding rings reflected off the bedside table lamp, and Leon wished he cared enough to remember where he had placed his own wedding band after taking it off many weeks ago, but it held no meaning to him. “Late again, Leon,” she muttered, glaring at him as he entered the room. “What was it this time?” 

Leon huffed as he walked towards the dresser. “Work,” he answered and he was being completely truthful, not that she’d ever believe him - which is quite hypocritical, if he had to be honest. He was well aware of the many times she came home late, and the many more times she never came home at all. She was just as bad as him, maybe even worse. “Like last time.”

Ada scoffed, tossing the sheets over her body and crossing her arms. “Liar,” 

She was trying to get under his skin, something she has always been able to do, even back when he was twenty one years old. Now at the age of twenty eight, he had no idea why he still continues to put himself through this. 

He was so sure that what he felt for the woman was love, but after four years with her, he quickly found out that it was lust. He met her when he was just starting out and had no idea what love even was, but he knew that it wasn’t what he felt for her. 

At first he was infatuated with her. It was a cat and mouse game that left him feeling like he could never truly and fully have her, and that was still true to this day. 

He married her, and yet she still wasn’t his. 

The guys she met at the bar. The men she ran into on missions. The rookies who had information she wanted, but didn’t need. She was all of theirs, as well as Leon’s, but never in full. 

Leon kept his back to her as he rolled his eyes and rummaged around in his drawer. “Whatever, Ada,” he muttered, grabbing his grey sweats before opening another drawer. 

“Don’t whatever me, Leon,” she seethed. “Don’t act like you haven’t been sneaking around on me. We both know you have. Some poor, naive girl who thinks you’re actually into her but probably doesn’t even know you’re married to me.”

Leon hated the way she was talking about you, and she was once again getting under his skin. He slams the drawer shut loudly after grabbing a black tee, turning towards his wife with a fire in his eyes. “You’re one to talk,” he growls. “You’ve been sleeping around since before we even got married. You haven’t changed, and I was dumb enough to believe you would.”

Ada’s eyes widened a bit but she tried to hide it by sitting up a little straighter.

He caught her, though. And they both knew it. “Yeah,” he laughs, the sound lacking any humor. “Haven’t been as discreet about it as you thought, huh?”

Leon turns to leave the room, but she wasn’t done playing with him, clearly. “Oh, come on, Leon,” she called out, dropping her attitude and making her voice sound sultry. “We both know how good we are together. Just come to bed with me. We can forget all about this.” 

She pushes the sheets off her body and crawls over to him, kneeling on the bed and running her hand up his arm. “Ada-”

“Shh,” she purrs, reaching her hands up and capturing his lips in a messy kiss. He doesn’t move at all, even though he wants to pull away, he also wants to prove a point. The fact that this was the first kiss they’ve shared in months should be a clear enough sign that this was completely over. She smirks when she pulls away, licking at her slightly wet lips. “See? You feel that?”

Leon didn’t know what he was supposed to be feeling, but he knew that she was trying to coax him into bed with her so he can fuck her and then pretend like their relationship was a normal and healthy one. 

When her hand wanders down his body and is about to touch him through his jeans, his own shoots out and his fingers wrap around her wrist, successfully halting her advances. “I don’t feel a thing,” he says, his voice so serious it had her eyes narrowing as she ripped her hand away from him. 

She sat back in disgust, crossing her arms again. “You can’t leave, Leon,” she states, unaware of just how far gone he is from her control over him. He’s detached from her completely and felt nothing for her but resentment. And maybe a little anger at the years he’s wasted chasing after her when she didn’t want him at all. 

“I want a divorce, Ada,” he says, voice monotone as he turns away and leaves the room. 

She yells harsh words after him but makes no move to stop him, further proving the point that she didn’t care. And neither did he.

Leon hates how much time he’s wasted with her when he could’ve been with you. You could’ve been his, officially, had he not been so afraid to let go of something he’s spent so much of his adulthood holding onto. 

He grabs his keys from off the counter, where he had tossed them not even ten minutes ago when he arrived home, and leaves the house, his mind on you as he hastily types out a reply to you and starts his car.

-

I’m sorry.

You read the text over and over again as you lie on your side in bed. 

What was he apologizing for? For stringing you along? For promising he’s going to leave his wife but never does? For not showing up tonight? 

The night was still young, so he might still show up, but the fact still stands. 

You felt terrible. 

Leon’s marriage was an unhappy one, and you knew he found happiness with you, but he hadn’t made it official yet, nor had he broken things off with Ada yet. Was it all a lie? Does he only come to you for an easy lay? For a sense of normalcy? 

You weren’t sure you wanted the answer. 

Falling in love with him was slowly breaking your heart, but you really didn’t have a choice. Leon was every girl’s dream and only became unfaithful when he grew sick of the lonely nights where his wife went off and fucked half the town. 

From what you know, you’re the only person he’s seeing, and that was enough for you to keep on inviting him to come over and escape from that environment. 

How Ada could ever take him for granted was beyond you. 

You shut off your phone and set it on the nightstand beside you after reading the time. It was nearing twelve in the morning and you were beginning to feel a bit like an idiot after sending that text to him. 

It was an invitation to stay at your house, and you even threw in a dumb line about his day, all because you knew Ada didn’t care enough to ask him that herself. 

As you begin to get more comfortable in bed, the sound of the front door opening then locking pierces your ears. Your mood lifts considerably at the fact that he had shown up after all, but you also knew you would be met with the same old line of ‘I’m going to break up with her, I promise’. 

You really weren’t sure how much more your heart could take. 

Quiet footsteps neared your bedroom, where the door slowly creaked open. “Y/n?” His soft voice called out and you just shifted to let him know that you were still awake. Leon kicks off his boots and drops his sweats and tee onto the top of your dresser before pulling the covers back and moving to lay behind you. “Sweetheart.”

“Hi,” you greet quietly, keeping your back to him. 

“Hi,” he says back, wrapping his arms around you. “I missed you.”

You stiffen slightly. “Did you?” You ask harshly, instantly regretting it when he doesn’t respond. You turn your head and look back at him, seeing guilt swim in his blue eyes, even in the dark room. Sighing, you turn back around. “I missed you, too.”

Leon could hear the tiredness in your voice, and he knew it wasn’t because of how late it was. He knew it was because of his broken promises of leaving his wife, but never sticking to them. Until now. “Baby,” he called softly, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the side of your head, smiling at the way you lean into his touch. “I asked for a divorce.”

That had your eyes widening and you tried to turn around, but his arms kept you still. “Really?” You ask as you settle against him once again. When he nodded and hummed, you added, “When?”

“Before I came here,” he answered, tangling his legs with yours under the sheets. 

Your lips tremble as you try not to get too ahead of yourself. “Leon,” you nearly whisper. 

“It’s over,” he confirmed, kissing your head again. “I promise, this is the last time. She doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.” 

“And me?” You felt selfish for asking, but you needed to know that you weren’t the only one feeling this between you and him. 

Leon’s hand slides under your shirt as he pulls your body closer to his. “You’re my girl,” he mumbles. “And I love you.”

Your head turns again and you keep your back to his chest as you grin. “You love me?” 

He nods, leaning in and brushing his lips against yours. “So much,” 

Reaching behind you, your hand tangles in his hair as you pull his head closer to yours. “I love you, too,” you confess, pressing your lips to his afterwards in a kiss that was all smiles. “I missed you, Leon.”

Leon runs his hand higher up your body and strokes the undersides of your breasts. “I missed you, too,” he says as he kisses along your neck. “I thought about you all day.”

“Leon,” you hummed, gripping his hair tighter as his fingers began to tease your nipples. His thumb and index finger gently pinch and pull at the buds, making your legs squeeze around his. “God.”

With the arm that is pinned under your body, his fingers continue to tease your chest while his other hand slides down your body. “I need you, sweetheart,” he nearly begs. “Please.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt like this about Ada, and it was clear that you had completely changed his perspective on what a real, happy relationship looked and felt like. 

You remove your hand from his hair and wrap your fingers around his wrist, sliding his hand lower down your body until he is softly rubbing your clit through your panties. “Take me, Leon,” you request in a whisper, reaching behind you so you could gently palm him through his jeans. “I’m yours.”

Leon kisses you deeply, sliding his hand in between the lace and your skin so he could properly tease your clit. “All mine,” he stated when you pulled away and moaned. “‘M all yours, too, baby.” 

You whimper when his index finger gathered up your wetness before sinking into you knuckle deep. “Leon,” you moan quietly, struggling to unzip his jeans from the position, but somehow managing to.

“God, you’re so perfect,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder blade. He thrusts his finger a couple of times before adding his middle and allowing his thumb to rub bruising circles onto your clit. “Everything I could ever want.”

This is how it’s supposed to be. 

You never pressured him to do anything, never forced anything or broke his trust in any way. It felt so right with you, like how a relationship should. 

He didn’t have to force himself to love you, that was something that came naturally, and quite quickly. 

Running into you at that bar nearly seven months ago was one of the best things that has ever happened to him, and he wouldn’t take that day back for anything in the whole world. 

“Leon,” you moan and it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. “Please, fuck, I need you.” 

“I’m right here,” he promised, kissing the side of your head as he slowed down the fucks of his hand in order to help your own rid him of his uncomfortable jeans. “You want this?” He asks, just to be sure you weren’t thinking this was all he came here for. 

Really, he would’ve been completely content with spending the night fully clothed and in your arms, but he was also more than okay with ending his day with you wrapped around him. 

“I want this,” you kiss him deeply, the angle making your neck hurt a bit but you don’t care. You kick off your panties as you ask, “Do you?”

Another thing he wasn’t used to, the question of consent that sounded so sweet coming from you. “Always,” he answered, kissing you again when you reached back and pulled him free before guiding him to your slick entrance. He slips into you with a deep groan, the quiet gasp you emit making his head spin in the best way. “I love you. I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

You shake your head and reach back to grip his hair as he pulls your leg to rest over his. “I think I would’ve waited forever, Leon,” you confessed as he began to slowly rock into you. 

He grunted quietly at your words and felt his whole body heat up, as well as his heart begin to race. He had never felt this way before, and he was glad he had found the person to experience this with at a still young age. 

Leon didn’t ever want to let you go after the first night he met you, and that only intensified as the months went on. “Yeah?” He asked as his hand settled on your hip, his other arm wrapping tightly around you. “I can promise you this, baby, I wouldn’t have made you wait that long. But I love you for telling me that.”

You lean back and kiss him, your brows furrowing at the slow fucks of his hips. “I love you, too, Leon,” you say back, placing your hand on his that was still tightly gripping your waist. “I just want you to be happy.”

He kissed along your neck, his teeth nipping at various spots. “You make me happy,” he rasped, pulling your body impossibly closer to his as he loved on you in more ways than one. “I’ve never been happier.”

You moan at his words, your heart swelling with pride and a bit of shock at the fact that you were, it seems like, the only person who truly has his entire heart, and the only one who has made him feel like this. 

At the sound of Leon’s quiet grunts, you allow yourself to lean back and against him completely, the assurance that he was yours entirely after tonight at the front of your mind. 

“You make me happy, too,” you say as you bury the side of your face in your pillow. Leon hums in response, pushing your hair away from your neck with his nose before kissing the skin there. “Leon…can I?”

He opens his eyes and looks down at you, noting the way your head was turned so your lips were ghosting against the base of his throat. Without you even finishing your question, he knew what you were asking, and he somehow got even more turned on at your request. 

A deep grunt leaves his mouth as he nods, gripping your hip tightly and thrusting into you. “Yeah, baby,” he answered. You smile and moan quietly before kissing his neck, your lips teasing his spotless skin. He grunts again, tilting his head a bit and exposing more of his neck to you. “Do it, baby. Please.”

You give in and suck a mark onto the base of his throat, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat against your lips as you stay there for a bit. He groaned loudly, and the thought of Ada seeing the hickey when he returned back to her with divorce papers sent his mind into a frenzy. He wanted her to see it after seemingly assuming that he had no one other than her. Oh, how wrong she is.

Pulling away with a lopsided grin, you bury your face in the pillow again when he sped up the pace of his hips.  

He couldn’t wait for this to become his normal life soon. The sound of your sweet moans filling your room played on repeat in his head whenever he was away from you, and your kind smile was the only thing he thought about when he went to sleep. 

“You’re everything I want,” he promised as his hand slipped from your waist and found your clit once again. Your body shuddered against his as a loud moan left your mouth, and you reached a hand down to grip his wrist. “Everything to me.”

“Leon,” you whimper and arch your back a bit as you feel your high quickly approach. Your hand wraps tighter around his wrist as your moans increase in volume, chanting a multitude of “Please.”

“You close, sweet girl?” He asked, already knowing the answer as he felt you clench helplessly around him. 

“Yes,” you replied in a breathy whisper, pulling his hand from in between your legs and pressing it against your chest. “Please, Leon.”

He wraps his hand around your breast, his thumb rubbing against your nipple through your shirt. You cry out and he feels your walls spasm a bit as you come around him, your core sucking him in even deeper and begging him to mark it as his own. “Good girl,” he praised, kissing all along your neck while you writhe against him. “Good girl, baby.”

“Leon,” you whispered, leaning back into him again and turning your head so you can brush your lips against his. 

“I know,” he rasped, fucking you through your sensitivity. “‘M gonna come, too, baby.”

“I want it,” you begged, tangling your hand in his hair. 

And he would never deny you of something you wanted. 

He groaned and cursed under his breath, his thrusts halting altogether as he leaned down to kiss you again. You moan against his mouth, your fingers gently massaging his head as you both came down from your highs. 

When he pulled out of you, your body turned to face his. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you kiss him deeply and tangle your legs with his again. “You really mean it? It’s really over between you and her?” You ask quietly when you break the kiss, your fingers gently tracing his jawline. 

Leon turned his head and kissed your fingertips as he nodded. “It’s over, sweetheart,” he swore, kissing your forehead after. “I’m all yours. I always was.”

[lowkeychenle]

the hardest part [ZCL] (M)

Description: You, Chenle, and Jay have been best friends since before you could even remember. After moving away to pursue your dreams, you don't talk to them as often as you should. One day, you get a call notifying you of Jay's passing. When you go back to your hometown, you find everything is different except for one person--Chenle.

Genre: (Hurt/Comfort) Smut/Fluff/Angst (please see content warnings)

Content Warnings: death of a close friend, survivor's guilt, lots of what-if scenarios, navigating life without someone you've always had around, mental break downs, panic attacks (not vividly described AS panic attacks), two people coming together to heal from grief, explicit sexual content (unprotected sex, oral sex, mentions of sex, etc. although it's not super crazy so do with that what you will)

Word Count: 16,965

Taglist: @amyjipark @sofix-hc7 @dinosaurtoothbrushwithninjasauce

Permanent Taglist: @sunnybutcloudy @neozon3nha @waffleuvs

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!reader (featuring OC by the name of Jay)

A/N: thank you for 900 followers! :)

Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)

When you got the call, your life fell apart before your eyes. You didn’t believe it. Not at first, anyway, considering things like this don’t happen to people you know. They happen to people you’ve never met.

Tragedies strike everyone. Not only are you not exempt, but nothing will ever shake you more, you’re certain.

Learning of your childhood best friend’s death is not something you expect to hear at your age. It’s always sudden, tragically, unfortunately. As if any death is anything but those words.

Everything leading up to the funeral—from the phone call to the week it took you to get on the plane—felt like a fever dream. One you’d wake up from and everything would be normal again.

You’re too young. He’s too young.

Was.

He was too young.

Your throat tightens as you close your eyes, resting your head against the steering wheel of your rental car. The funeral awaits you inside, where you’ll say the goodbye he’ll never actually hear.

The entire week, you’d been looking through old pictures and videos, crying at the sound of his voice when you realized how long it’d been since you truly heard him.

You obviously had yet to accept what happened. You’re half-sure that the second you walk in, everyone will be in there as if they’ve all played an elaborate prank on you. How cruel of them to set all of that up in a funeral home. Was he in there right now, waiting for you to walk in with tears in your eyes so he could make fun of you?

You’d cry harder, punch his shoulder, yell at him for playing such a cruel joke on you.

But it’s not a joke.

You haven’t received a text in over a month—well past your monthly check-in time. That thought alone makes you want to scream. Monthly check-ins? You moved away from your friends years ago for college and a ghost of a dream. Now, the only ghost left is his, and you have no idea how to explain your absence.

You thought you had more time.

Maybe that everybody gets older—but that’s not true. He won’t.

A cold chill runs down your spine. You look up at the sky, wanting to curse it for the beautiful blue color when the shade inside your heart is so fucking painful. Gathering yourself and wiping away the stray tear, you brush your dress off and get out of your car. The lot is packed, considering how popular Jay is.

Was.

It’s not real for you yet. Even as you walk in through the doors, the miserable click of your heels on the concrete doing little to soothe the emotions running deep in your veins. The first thing you see when you walk in is a collage of pictures of him—and the one that catches your eye immediately is one of the biggest ones, portraying you, Jay, and Chenle from a few summers back. The three of you are beaming at each other, smiles too wide to not be painful.

A lump forms in your throat. You hadn’t even thought about Chenle. Not really. The three of you had been best friends growing up. Your parents all knew each other, and so you’d been grandfathered into two friendships. In your defense, nothing had been on your mind except for Jay. Not his family, not yours, not Chenle.

Jaw quivering, you trace your fingers over the two men in the picture. God, Chenle must be a fucking wreck right now. Your first goal was to find him.

It’s not like you weren’t friends with them anymore. You were busy, they were busy, and you had a friendship with both of them that made it easy to remain the same when together even if you spent months and months apart. You hadn’t seen either of them in person in over a year.

The doors are open, and you clench your fists together. You freeze just before the doorway. The second you walk in, all of this becomes real. Jay is dead, and you’ve failed to keep up with him and everyone else from your hometown. You’ve become someone else, and in the process, you forgot your roots.

You’ll never remember them again. Not when they’ve been cut at the source.

“(Y/N)?” A familiar voice sounds behind you, and you whirl around.

The tears you’d been holding back fall before you can stop them. You slap a hand over your mouth, and in the blink of an eye, Chenle’s closing the distance between the two of you and wrapping his arms around you.

“God, it’s been so fucking long,” he murmurs, tightening his grip.

You can’t talk yet. Guilt sets in regardless, because you hadn’t so much as messaged him when you heard about all of this. His palm rests on the back of your head, and he doesn’t say anything else. The two of you stand there, and you allow him to comfort you.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you groan and wipe at your eyes. “This is all just…are you…how are you doing?”

“I’ve been better,” he admits. “Better now that you’re here, honestly. I went outside to take a break from everything and I saw you walk in. You have no idea how good it is to have you back here.”

“I can’t believe I’ve been gone for so long.” You glance up at the ceiling.

“Life happens,” Chenle says softly. He puts his hand on the small of your back. “If you’re ready, I’ll go in with you.”

“Thank you.” You take a deep breath.

Chenle has never been an emotional man. Even since you were children, you rarely even saw him tear up. Hopes of all of this being a prank dissipates quickly when you see the water gathered in his eyes as the two of you walk in.

The air inside is undeniably stuffy, bone-chilling, even. Silence is amplified by how you hear your own heart pounding in your ears. The carpeted floor creaks beneath your feet, and as soon as people recognize you, eyes are on you and Chenle. Nobody says anything.

The casket is on a stage of sorts. The left side is open, and you can’t see inside it from where you’re standing, but your feet freeze to the ground directly below you before you realize what’s happening. A flash of worry crosses over Chenle’s features as he steps in front of you to cover the view.

“Just breathe,” he whispers, hands on your shoulders. “It’s hard. I know. Trust me, do I fucking know, but it’s not about us and our feelings right now. It’s about Jay. You’ll get through this for Jay.”

“He’s in there.” You gulp. “It’s all real, and he’s…”

Your friend nods. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s real.”

Your throat constricts again, and you glance around. His family—his parents and younger brother—are in the front of the room, sitting down together. Much to your surprise, they’re not all sobbing, but the redness to his mother’s cheeks tells you she may have just shed too many tears to keep going.

“This is the last time you’ll ever see him,” Chenle says quietly. “You don’t have to go up there if you don’t want to, but I think you’ll regret it if you don’t. They put him in that stupid band shirt he never wanted to throw away.”

Your heart pangs, and warmth and fondness takes over. “Well, good thing he never did, huh?”

“Exactly.” Chenle chuckles. “I’ll go with you.”

Once you nod, he resumes his spot next to you and guides you up to your best friend to say goodbye. You don’t stay there long. After you see him, you’re sure you’ve been changed forever. It’s odd how serene and peaceful he looks. How nothing about him has really changed when everything about you and your life now has.

You speak briefly with his family, who are all thankful you came across the country for this—as if you’d ever miss it. You just wish you’d had that need to go home when death wasn’t involved. Yours, Jay’s, and Chenle’s parents stay at the funeral after you and Chenle leave. The two of you mutually agreed Jay would punch you both if he knew you were held up because of him.

You go to a cafe together, and despite you having zero appetite, Chenle insists you get something to eat. Grasping your warm coffee cup in both hands, you stare down at the steam while your friend is up at the counter waiting for everything else. You look out the window, watching the cars zoom past.

“It’s a little weird having you back here,” Chenle mentions as he sits down across from you.

“Well.” You sip your coffee. “It wasn’t exactly in the plan.”

“How long are you here for?”

“I took extended leave,” you tell him. “I’ll be here for a few months.”

He purses his lips and nods. “This town isn’t so great without you, you know. Jay and I used to talk about it all the time.”

“Yeah.” Your breath hitches and you stare at the steam from your cup. “I’ve been so…far away this whole time, and now it’s too late to fix it all.”

“Hey, there’s nothing to fix,” he interjects, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re out there making a life for yourself. We’ve never been anything but fucking proud of you, dude. You had the courage to get out. Neither of us ever could’ve attempted that.”

“Did he even get the chance?” You let out a pained laugh and set your coffee on the table.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it. He loved you, okay? Our friendship has always been easy. You don’t need to talk to people or see them every day to stay friends.” Chenle reaches across the table and grabs your hand.

Your shoulders slump. “God, you’re going through this at the same time I am and I’m just…making it about me. What’s going on with you?”

“Everyone grieves differently.” He pauses to think. “I’m…as okay as I can be, you know? But to be completely honest, I’m not sure how I am. Or what I’m gonna do. There’s not much I can do.”

“I still can’t believe it. He’s just…gone. How the hell do we keep going? It’ll never be the same.”

“You’re right,” Chenle agrees. “It’ll suck. It already does. But we’ll get through this together. I’m here for you.”

You squeeze his hand and give him a small smile. “And I’m here for you, of course. I’m gonna be better about staying in touch and visiting.”

“Where are you staying?” he asks.

“Well, my parents turned my room into a home gym, so I got a hotel for now.” You chuckle. “They really thought I was never coming back.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” His eyes widen. “You’re gonna stay in a hotel for a few months? Just come stay with me.”

“I didn’t want to impose on anyone.”

He presses his lips into a thin line. “C’mon, you’re not imposing and you know it. Plus, you haven’t seen the new house yet, so you may as well.”

“That’s right.” You gasp and shoot straight up. “You fucking bought a house.”

He grins. “Yeah, I did. And there’s plenty of space for you there. Plus, it’ll be better for both of us if we’re not alone right now.”

“You’re gonna make me play board games.”

“Obviously.” He scrunches up his nose. “You would have to even if you were staying in the hotel.”

Familiarity finally sets in, and the awkward air between you and Chenle has officially evaporated completely. He’s still your best friend, and the weirdness was in your own head. The two of you spend a bit of time catching up at the cafe—at times, you even find yourself laughing.

You missed your hometown. The friends you had when you were growing up. What a shame you’re missing one of the most pivotal people in your entire life. Your younger years were shaped and reformed by your friendship with Jay and Chenle.

When some girl bullied you in middle school, the boys were the first people to come to your defense. They’d walk you to and from class, and Chenle even called that girl out. In high school, when you got your first boyfriend, Jay and Chenle grilled him thoroughly. They were your family, and you were theirs.

One of the only times you’d seen Chenle cry was when he and Jay dropped you off at the airport when you were leaving for college. You hugged both of them so tightly, and you promised to visit often. They said they’d come see you, and that you’d never go too long without them.

Naive promises turn into friendships where you love each other, but you rarely see or hear from the other. Every time you did see them, it truly felt like no time had passed.

You and Chenle get into your car, and he directs you to his house. He tells you a little about it on the way—it’s not too big, two bedrooms, one bathroom, but the kitchen is really nice. He likes to cook, so, of course, that was a deciding factor when he was looking.

Your bags are still in the back, so he helps you grab them. He slings your backpack over his shoulder and grabs the larger of your two bags. Everything about your hometown feels foreign to you as you follow him inside. He flicks the lights on, and the first thing you notice is that same picture of you, Jay, and Chenle that you’d seen at the funeral home.

It’s framed in the center of the wall, and as soon as you see it, you exhale. Chenle stops mid-sentence, walking up to stand next to you.

“That’s my favorite picture of us.” He tilts his head. “He made fun of me for putting that up.”

“He’s always been so weird about mushy gushy friendship feelings.” You purse your lips. “Despite being the sappiest fucking guy I know.”

“He’d be so pissed at all of us for being sad.” Chenle chuckles. “He’d kill me if I let you stay in a hotel, too.”

“The last time I talked to him, he’d just broken up with that girl. What was her name?”

“I don’t even remember. She was weird, though. Like, he barely talked to you and she was all threatened I guess. You and Jay? You two would end up putting each other in headlocks.” He snorts and runs his fingers through his hair.

“We have put each other in headlocks,” you remind him, nudging his shoulder. “And I vaguely remember kicking his ass.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I’d consider that kicking his ass.”

“This…This feeling will go away eventually, right?” For some reason, you can’t lift your voice higher than a whisper as you force the words out.

“Which one? The gaping hole or the soul-crushing anxiety?” He throws his arm over your shoulders.

“Both.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think so.” He sighs. “I’ve heard from many that you kinda just…learn how to live with it.”

“Even though he can’t.”

“Even though he can’t,” Chenle repeats. “Guess the hardest part of all of this is that he won’t grow up with us, huh?”

You inhale sharply and cover your mouth. “Damn it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I’ve been a damn roller coaster this whole week. You don’t have to be scared to feel around me. You know that.”

“It feels so fucking selfish,” you breathe out. “I haven’t seen him in…months, so do I even really have the right to be this sad?”

“Are you kidding me?” Chenle scoffs.

“Would he even want me here right now?”

“Do you hear yourself?” Your friend gapes at you. “He never stopped talking about the next time you’d be in town. Neither of us have ever even had a negative thought about you, dude. You should know that. There was never a time where he didn’t want you here.”

“I guess I just thought we’d have more time,” you say.

“The world waits for no one.”

When nightfall comes, you and Chenle go to your separate rooms. He bids you goodnight, and you close your door. You sit on the edge of the bed and take in the room around you. Everything has changed immensely since the last time you were in your hometown. Your best friend bought a house, and you’d barely even thought or heard about it. Pride in him surges through you, but for a moment, you think it may be misplaced.

You don’t deserve to be proud of someone you’ve failed to talk to as often as you should have. Losing Jay has torn your world apart, and you still don’t truly believe it. You change into your tank top and shorts, and then grab your toothbrush and toothpaste from your bag.

You’re on your way to the bathroom when you find Chenle in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and bringing a glass of water up to his lips. He gives you a tired nod.

“You’re still up?”

“Sleep on a day like this?” He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “I’ll probably have some crazy ass dream or something.”

You forget your adventure to his bathroom and approach the kitchen island. Without a word between the two of you, he goes into the cupboard to get you a cup as well. He fills it with water and slides it across the countertop.

“Thanks,” you say.

He nods once and crosses his arms over his chest. “How’s life going, though? Current events aside.”

“Life is a constant revolving door of work,” you tell him. “Working my way up the corporate ladder and all that bullshit they spew.”

“You look good. As long as you’re getting all the things you wanted, I’m good, too.” He closes his eyes and tilts his head back.

“Kind of debating if it was worth it at this point.” You sigh. “I’m proud of you, by the way. Buying a house on your own is a big deal.”

“Family business money.”

“You work. You earned it.”

“I guess that’s true. Thanks.” He pauses. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t think I’d be okay if you weren’t.”

“Like I’d ever leave you to deal with something like this alone.” You tap your fingers against the granite, admiring the swirls of color deep in the design.

“Regardless, I needed you.” Chenle gulps, glancing at his feet. “I still do. Now more than ever with Jay gone.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t come?” you ask.

He wets his lips and takes the bottom one between his teeth. “It’s not that I thought that, necessarily, but I did wonder if you were. I didn’t hear from you, so I kind of just hoped.”

Guilt takes another stab at your heart. “Chenle, I—”

“Don’t apologize again,” he replies sternly. “Life is life. There’s no way any of us could’ve predicted this, okay? Sometimes, shit happens. Not being around a lot isn’t the end of the world.”

“It was for Jay.”

“You were not the end of the world. You didn’t kill him, for fuck’s sake. There’s nothing any of us could’ve done. And reminiscing on it like this and placing unplaceable blame on ourselves is going to make things harder.” He sets his cup in the sink.

“I know. I know that, but for some reason, my head keeps—”

“Let’s watch a movie,” he offers. “Maybe it’ll distract you a little bit.”

You agree, and go into the bathroom to brush your teeth before you follow him into his room. It’s so innately Chenle in there, you immediately feel relaxed. Some things never change, and you’re glad he’s one of those things.

“Sorry, I don’t have a TV in the living room,” he says as he pulls his covers back.

“Just roll me off if I fall asleep,” you reply, climbing onto the untouched side.

Eventually, he’s next to you, and you rest your head on his chest while he finds something to watch. He selects some random comedy movie and then shuffles to put his arm around you.

His scent is familiar, too. The world calms around you when you’re with Chenle. One out of two of your safe places has left the Earth, but luckily for you, Chenle is more than ready to play both roles.

The movie does, indeed, successfully distract you from the impending doom of everything outside. You’re able to forget, even if it’s just for a couple hours, and sink into the familiarity of your best friend.

His chest rumbles when he laughs at the screen, and the feeling has you drifting faster than you’d care to admit.

Until finally, your eyes flutter shut and stay that way, and just like that, you have the best night of sleep you’ve had all week.

You wake in the morning to sunlight on your face and Chenle wiggling away from you. The brightness burns your eyes, and you curse under your breath. Chenle bites back a laugh.

“Did I wake you up?” he asks. “I was about to go make some coffee for us.”

You shake your head and turn onto your back. “No, the sun violated me. Sorry for falling asleep in here. I thought I’d be able to catch myself.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He waves you off. “You still like your coffee the same way?”

You nod. “Thanks, Lele.”

“Of course.” He pats the door frame and heads to the kitchen. The creaks in the floorboards from his steps get further and further, and you cover your face with your hands to block out the sun.

You smell the coffee as it brews, a sigh escaping your lips. His bed is the most comfortable thing you’ve slept on in a while, and you can’t seem to force yourself to get up. You and Chenle had spent the night together many times before, pretty much throughout your entire lives. Jay, too, of course, considering how inseparable the three of you had been growing up.

“Alright, lazy ass,” Chenle calls out. “Coffee’s ready. Time to face the world.”

“Asshole,” you shout back.

“That’s what they call me.”

You laugh and roll your eyes. Swinging the covers off of you, you follow him into the kitchen.

“The fuck is your mattress made of?” you ask as you take the cup he hands you. “Clouds?”

“It’s pretty nice, isn’t it?” He sips his coffee and cringes from the heat.

“The steam is like, a dead giveaway that it’s too hot to drink, you know.”

“I take back what I said, go back to sleep.” He grins. “Getting a decent night’s sleep has brought your sass back.”

“You know you love my sass,” you bite back.

He holds his hand up in mock surrender. “Whatever.”

“What’s the plan for today?” you ask, holding your cup close so it warms you up.

“No clue,” he says. “My parents gave me a few weeks off to, I don’t know, adjust or whatever. Even though I could probably use the distraction.”

“Comedy movie didn’t do it for you?”

He gives you a pointed look. “A two hour movie can only do so much.”

“We should do something for him,” you suggest, tilting your head as you try to think. “Like, to honor him.”

“What could we do?”

“Sky’s the limit.” You shrug. “I feel like I should.”

“If you do, it needs to be actually for him. Not to compensate for guilt. Guilt you shouldn’t even be feeling, by the way.” His eyes on you suddenly becomes too much. You avert your gaze. He’s always been able to read you like a book.

“It’s really weird,” you say. “Right now, I don’t feel…anything. But I really thought I’d be in a constant state of sad. That makes me feel guilty, too.”

“I get that. It’s the way things work, though. At the end of the day, we’re still alive. We shouldn’t stop just because he did.” Chenle looks past you to the picture on the wall.

You follow suit, letting the events from yesterday flood back to you.

“Lele.” You wait for him to look at you. “Thank you. For everything. And for not letting me blame myself. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be alone and sad and, quite honestly, wondering where I—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” You glare at him.

He smiles. “You get it.”

You and Chenle spend some time with your parents. They’re quick to update you on everything everyone in the town has been doing, and you and Chenle exchange ‘when-will-this-be-over’ glances frequently. 

Chenle offers to help your dad cook, leaving you and your mother in the living room. She brings out an old photo album, and the two of you take a trip down memory lane. After flipping through a few pages, she gasps and points at a picture of you and Chenle next to each other at a bonfire. You’re holding the graham crackers, awaiting the marshmallow he’s toasting over the flames.

“You guys were so young.” She lets out a long sigh.

“Mom, that was like, six years ago.” You laugh. “We weren’t that young.”

She trails down the page, and the next one is almost the same, but Jay’s arms are around you and Chenle, and he beams straight into the camera. You smile at the sight, remembering how you swatted at his wrist the second after the photo was taken.

“You know, we all thought you and Jay would get married one day,” she says absent-mindedly.

“What?” you ask incredulously. “Seriously? Come on, you know we were never like that.”

“You kids don’t see it from the outside. I’ve never seen you act so comfortable with anyone. Chenle, too, obviously. I can’t explain it. It was different with you and Jay.”

“I promise you, he’s only ever been my best friend. Not even a smidge of another thought. Don’t speak ill of the dead like that—”

“(Y/N),” your mother scolds you, smacking your arm.

“No need to beat around the bush.” You shrug and close the album.

“Hey, do you—” Chenle’s cut off by your mother.

“If you actually visited as much as you said you would, maybe things would’ve happened for the two of you.”

She doesn’t mean it the way you take it, at least you don’t think she does, but it’s a stray bullet to the heart anyway. Your jaw drops, and it only takes one glance from Chenle for him to understand. He reaches into his pocket and hands you his keys.

“Go get in the car.”

“Chenle, it’s not—”

“Go. I’ll be out in a second.”

Your insides twist and turn, and despite the way your throat closes in on itself, you nod and practically bolt out of the house. The first tear drops as you climb into the passenger seat. You close your eyes and drop your head into your hands. How did life turn out this way?

It’s true that you and Jay had never had any sort of feelings for each other, but the insinuation that he should’ve been more confuses you more than anything. If he should’ve been, you lost that chance before you even knew it existed. But it doesn’t matter, does it?

You never had feelings for him. Never. But for some reason, it suddenly feels like you have to.

Now, a different type of guilt sinks in.

You’re shaking by the time Chenle gets in the car, but he doesn’t say anything before he drives away. Stress boils off of him, and you’re almost scared to glance over at him. Luckily, the ride to his house is short thanks to your small hometown, and as soon as you’re out of the car and inside, he lets out a loud sigh.

You intend to quietly and quickly head into your own room, where you’ll cry until you fall asleep or you need more water before you can shed a single additional tear.

“Don’t even think about it,” Chenle says, grabbing onto your wrist. “Talk to me.”

You stumble into his chest and hold onto his T-shirt like your life depends on it. He cradles the back of your head and sighs, thumb stroking your scalp.

“Don’t let them get to you,” he whispers. “They don’t understand.”

“What if she was right?” you choke out.

He leans away from you to look at your face. “Did you? Ever have feelings for him?”

“No, but what if—”

“There’s no use thinking about things like that.” Chenle’s brows furrow as he scans over your face.

“And now I’ll never know if he ever thought like that, and it’s my fault—it’s not what I wanted, because you know I’d rather fist fight him than anything else, but God, what if he—”

“(Y/N).” His palms reach up to cup your cheeks, making you look straight at him as he guides you to breathe. “I can very confidently say that Jay didn't have any sort of romantic feelings for you at any point, okay? Just take a deep breath.”

“I look like an idiot, don’t I?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, you don’t. You look like someone who really cares for someone they just lost. These feelings are normal, dude.”

“I don’t think you were ever worried about Jay potentially having feelings for you,” you mumble.

“He was very much into women, so definitely never a worry on my part.” Chenle snorts and pulls you back into a hug. “She shouldn’t have said something like that to you. You’re probably hungry, too. I’ll order us some pizza.”

“Let me pay for it,” you say, reaching into your purse for your card.

“Next time.” He nudges you before walking into the kitchen.

You sigh and follow him, quickly wiping the wetness from your cheeks. He’s typing away on his phone screen, resting his elbows on the counter. He runs his fingers through his hair and sends a quick smile your way.

Without Jay around, things with Chenle felt off at first. Everything changed for all of the people you knew in the blink of an eye, and now, you’re left with one of two of your best friends while the other is galavanting up in the sky.

Things would never be the same for you, but you still have Chenle. And at the end of the day, he’s one of the only people in the entire world that have ever understood you. You don’t even need to say a word for him to get a read on you.

“Pizza’s ordered.” He drops his phone onto the granite. “I need a drink. Do you want something? I only have beer and liquor.”

“Beer’s fine,” you tell him. “I shouldn’t drink too much anyway.”

You’re halfway through the can when the pizza arrives. Chenle grabs you a piece, and you pause for a moment. This whole time, he’s been doing things for you—and it’s not just now either. It’s been like this for your entire life. Until the time you moved across the country on your own, you’d barely ever even opened a door for yourself.

You down the rest of your drink, and Chenle blinks at you rapidly.

“Are you good?” He chuckles.

“Just thinking of how good I had it here.” You shrug. “When I lived here, and I got to hang out with you and Jay all the time. I never felt lonely or sad or anything like that. Always happy with you guys.”

His face softens. “I miss those days.”

“Me too.” Right when you open your mouth to continue, Chenle stops you.

“Don’t.” He points at you. “We were the ones who told you to go in the first place.”

The two of you eat in a peaceful silence, where you steal a couple glances at your long time friend. Had you come home any other time before this, Jay would be here, too, and he’d most likely be making fun of you and Chenle right now. It’s like things have gone back to day one, and neither of you are sure how to interact with each other. The atmosphere, the air, the storyline has all massively shifted. You’re unsure of what to do.

“I’m gonna watch another movie,” Chenle says absentmindedly as he finishes sending a message on his phone. “You in?”

“Oh, not this time.” You shake your head. “I’m exhausted. Last thing you need is me hogging your bed again all night.”

He laughs. “Door’s open if you change your mind. Night.”

“Goodnight,” you tell him, watching as he retreats into his room.

The click signifies he’s out of sight, out of mind. You let out a long sigh and clean up your plate before heading into your own room. It’s not as homey as Chenle’s, and the mattress isn’t as cloudy either, but you’ll make do. With a deep breath, you rest back on your pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

Part of you wants to be with Chenle, but the other side of you knows you need to learn how to be okay on your own, too. If Jay’s death has taught you anything, it’s that not everyone you rely on will be around forever. Maybe if you’d relied on him less—

God damn it. You run your hands down your face, opting to scroll through your phone. Halfway through a random video, you receive a text from Chenle.

It’s a simple message of ‘found this and figured you’d want to see.’ It’s a picture of you and Jay, where you look like you’re ready to punch him in the face, and he’s beaming widely as if he’s the funniest person alive.

The photo makes you smile. Your memories of him will stand through the test of time, but that doesn’t mean you’re not going to feel it. One thing’s for certain—his loss will always be felt. You’ll just try and make the most of the time you have left, because it’s very clearly fleeting.

You feel decent enough that you start to drift to sleep, but it’s your dreams that send you through a whirlwind. Images of your earlier years flash through your mind, and you relive some experiences you’d forgotten about. When Jay found out his first girlfriend cheated on him, or when he and Chenle got into their first ever argument and made you be the mediator. Happy memories suddenly came to an end when your dream showed him in his casket, surrounded by the people who love him—the people you abandoned to follow your dream.

You jolt awake, tears burning at your eyes despite refusing to fall. When you look at the clock, hours have passed, and it’s well into the middle of the night. You pat your cheeks to ground yourself to the real world, and overwhelming worry hits you.

What if you lose Chenle in the same way? What if all this time that was wasted is truly…gone, and you’ll never be able to make it up?

You never got to say goodbye to Jay. The days will continue to get colder, but he’ll always be cemented on a bright summer day in the middle of June. Winters without him will be like a frozen hell, and the summers will never be quite as sweet. Your heart pounds in your chest where your guilt resides, and there’s only one solution you know that’ll work.

You throw your blanket off your body and slide out of bed. The floors of Chenle’s house creak beneath your feet as you walk the short distance from your room to his. You contemplate knocking first, but you’re pretty sure he’s asleep anyway.

When you push the door open, the noise catches his attention. He turns over, eyebrows furrowed as he catches you in the frame.

“(Y/N)?”

“Hey,” you mutter, clasping your hands together. “Sorry, I thought you’d be asleep.”

“Nah.” He sits up. “Not doing too great at that these days.”

“Oh. Well, um, do you wanna watch that movie?”

Chenle smiles gently at you and pats the other side of his bed. “For sure.”

You end up next to him, resting your head on him like you did last time. He wraps his arm around you and gently taps his fingers against your shoulder. Eventually, you completely relax and stare forward at the screen. Despite the movie playing, you already feel your tiredness pulling at you again.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly. “It’s just…late. You weren’t asleep?”

“I…” You pause and turn to look at him. “You want me to be honest?”

“Always.”

“I’m so…scared. I’m not really sure of what, but I have this ball of worry in me. It like, physically hurts.” You roll your eyes and tighten your grip on him.

“I get it,” he murmurs. “Seriously. When things like this happen, it’s normal to feel that way. And it doesn’t make you selfish.”

A lump forms in your throat. “I—Chenle, I don’t want to lose you, too.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures you, pulling you closer to hug you. “I promise you, you’ll always have me.”

“But we never know, do we?” Your voice shakes. “All of it could be over in the blink of an eye—”

He cups your cheeks. “Just relax, okay? I’m right here. I’ve thought the same things about you, you know. To the point where I’m scared to let you out of my sight. But living in fear is worse than not living at all.”

“What do we do without…” You groan as the first tear falls, but before you reach up to wipe it away, Chenle beats you to it.

“We do exactly what he’d want us to do. Keep going and make life whatever we want it to be. He’d be so pissed if he knew we were sad right now.”

“God, he would.” You let out a short laugh. “He’s glaring at us, isn’t he?”

“Oh, for sure. For this and for having a fucking sleepover without him.” Chenle’s smile widens.

“He loved sleepovers.”

“He was insufferable about them,” he interjects.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he says, and despite the obvious part of all of it being out of his control, something settles in you.

Your brows furrow as you gulp, studying him to figure out what about this feels…shifted. Things don’t feel like they have every single time you’ve come home in the past, but that may be because of the obvious. There was always three of you. How do you recover from that and become two?

“You don’t have to feel weird about staying in here,” Chenle tells you. “I sleep better when I’m not alone, anyway.”

“It’s not just being alone…I think I sleep better because it’s you.” You curl further into him, and he squeezes you gently.

“Me too.” He runs his fingers through your hair.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What did you say earlier? To my mom.”

“Oh, not much.” He shrugs. “Just that it was shitty to say something like that to you after everything that’s happened recently. And that you already feel bad enough, and she doesn’t need to make it worse when it’s not your fault to begin with.”

“Not much, huh?” You chuckle.

“It wasn’t enough,” he replies. “I could’ve ranted for hours about how that whole thing was bullshit. But I figured you’d be hungry, so I took you home instead.”

Home.

His home. Not yours. But you’ve never quite felt like you belonged anywhere as much as you do right now. You slide your legs to tangle them with his, and he intertwines his fingers with yours. Without explanation, your heart skips a beat. The warmth of his palm against yours has your mind in overdrive, but you don’t acknowledge it.

“Try and get some sleep,” he whispers.

You nod, terrified of shattering whatever shroud of calm is over you. Instead of a verbal response, you just close your eyes and try to ignore whatever that nagging feeling is snapping at the back of your brain.

Chenle lets out a short sigh, and it doesn’t take long for his breathing to even out. You listen to the steady thumping of his heart, the rhythm guiding you closer to falling asleep. It doesn’t matter what happens. He’s alive. The sound you’re hearing is proof of that, so at that moment you make a vow to yourself. To him.

You’ll never let distance separate you two again. You’ll never let him go the same way you did with Jay.

You’re going to be better.

And that promise, resounding in your soul, is enough to make the night around you fade to black.

A week and a half passes, and you’ve yet to spend an entire night on your own. You try, but every single time, either your or Chenle cave. Sometimes, he’d crawl into your bed without a word, pull you close to him, and breathe you in before falling asleep in silence.

He very quickly becomes your comfort. The only person you want to be around or talk to in the wake of a monumental loss. You try not to let Jay consume your thoughts, but every time you allow your mind to wander, he’s waiting for you at every corner.

The only time you’re truly at ease is with Chenle, and you’ve started getting used to being around him all the time. Today in particular, the two of you decided to have an impromptu picnic in the backyard, the sunset turning the sky oranges and pinks. Both of you lie flat on a blanket he spread out, staring up at the clouds as they scour across the sky.

An empty wine bottle is on the grass not even a foot away from you, and another one is half empty in between you and Chenle. You’ve had just enough to bring a calm, steady feeling over you, and you’re able to forget the world for a moment.

Your best friend lets out a sigh, shuffling a bit closer to you.

“What’s up?” you ask him, turning your head to look at him.

You’re lost in the way the sunset illuminates his face, how overwhelming Chenle he is while equally being reminiscent of an angel.

“You think he’s up there?” he whispers.

Your gaze returns to the sky. “I’d like to think so.”

“He better be. We both know he wouldn’t last a day in Hell.” He chuckles to himself, shaking his head. “I guess I’ve been thinking like that recently. About where we go after…”

“You know I’ve always had a sixth sense about him.” You nudge his arm. “Wherever he is, he’s happy. I can feel it.”

“God, I hope so.” Chenle inhales sharply. “I just wish…I don’t know. That there was something I could’ve done to prevent all of this.”

“Don’t. You’re the one who told me the what-ifs are pointless. There’s nothing we can do to change that he’s gone, but we keep him alive in our memories. That’s what he’d want.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he admits as he clasps his hands together over his stomach.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

He wets his lips. “Jay’s gone. You’ll go back to work eventually. It’ll just be me here, and I—am I behind? Should I be doing something with my fucking life?”

“Chenle—”

“You’ve got these amazing opportunities out there for you, (Y/N). Jay doesn’t get the chance to try, and I’m gonna waste my fucking life away in this God damned town.” He gulps and lets out a defeated sigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be doing this right now. And I hope you know this isn’t your fault—”

“Zhong Chenle, would you look at me?” you snap, waiting for him to turn his head.

Chenle furrows his eyebrows, and as his eyes meet yours, you see the desperate worry behind them. The fear of a meaningless life after the loss of a friend who could never do better now that he’s gone, and the knowledge that his other friend got out while she could.

You know him like the back of your hand. He doesn’t want this life. Truth be told, he never did. He wanted to make something of himself, much like you were doing now, and he never got the chance. No moves were made.

You want to tell him there’s still time, but you know better than to go there at this point. With a soft smile, you reach over and cup his cheek, allowing your thumb to run over his cheekbone.

“It’s not your fault. There was nothing either of us could do to stop this, okay? And do you know how pissed Jay would be hearing you talk about yourself like this? Chenle, you’re the best person I’ve ever known. If there’s anyone in this world who can take it by storm, it’s you.” You pause and take a deep breath. “Jay…dying doesn’t mean you have to lay here and die, too.”

“I needed you,” he says. “When he died, I needed you, and you were here. And you always know what to say or what to do. Helping you took the thoughts away from me, because as long as you needed me, I was distracted from feeling fucking helpless about everything.”

“I needed you, too,” you tell him.

His frown deepens, but his gaze softens. Your heart seems to skip a beat, and you still haven’t moved your hand from his face. The stare you’re locked in with him has energy thrumming through your veins, and the atmosphere around you shifts. A slight purple hue from the sky flutters against his skin.

“I still do,” he murmurs.

You nod. “Me, too. I’m not going anywhere, Lele.”

As his eyes travel down to your mouth, you quickly find yourself doing the same. Your imagination runs wild, wondering what his lips would feel like against yours. Everything that happens next is so quick, you almost don’t believe it’s true.

Both of you seem to lean forward at the same time, and his mouth brushes yours. His hand ends up on your hip, and yours moves up to his hair. The soft strands have your breath hitching, and the next thing you know, he’s kissing you. You’re kissing him. You’ve never considered anything like this with Chenle before, but nothing in your life has ever felt so right.

His lips work so perfectly against yours, you forget about absolutely everything except for him. Fingers gripping onto the fabric of your shirt, he shifts closer to you to close the rest of the distance. You attempt to follow his lead, but you’re interrupted by the wine bottle between you falls right onto your lap, the deep red liquid making you gasp as it soaks into your pants.

“Shit,” you curse, jolting away from Chenle.

He quickly grabs some of the paper towel he brought outside and attempts to soak up the alcohol soaked into your clothing. His hand presses against your thigh, and with a gasp, you realize what truly happened.

You just kissed Chenle. You would’ve continued kissing him, too, if the stupid bottle hadn’t been in the way. But now you’ve got his fingers digging into your leg, the warmth zinging through your veins like lightning as you swat his hands away.

“(Y/N), I—”

“Don’t.” You shake your head. “Everything’s fine.”

You quickly stand and make your way into his house to change. And to avoid what will come of this situation. Once you’re in your room, you close the door and lock it behind you, sinking down until you’re sitting on the floor.

You don’t care about your pants. Every aspect of your life has been upheaved this week. You don’t need things to change with Chenle, too. Ever since you were little, you, Jay, and Chenle had always been open and honest with each other—probably too much, in hindsight, but you trusted them both with your life. As far as you were aware, none of you had ever even come close to romantic feelings for each other.

When Chenle said he needs you, is that what he meant? Does he need you or does he need someone?

Your calm buzz from the wine has disappeared, and now panic sets in. You already lost one best friend, and you refuse to lose another. It doesn’t matter how much you wanted to kiss him. Or how much you enjoyed it. Or how badly you want to go out there and ask him what the hell he was thinking.

You flinch at the knocking.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?” His voice is strained, like he’s having just as hard of a time as you are.

When you don’t answer, you hear a shuddering breath escape him.

“(Y/N), please,” he pleads. “I’m so sorry. Seriously, I have no idea what came over me, and I just—I need you, okay? I can’t be alone right now.”

You sniffle and stand up, cracking the door open so you can see him.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “Please don’t hate me.”

“You idiot, I could never hate you,” you reassure him, pulling him into a hug.

He sighs in relief, the tension in his body deflating as he holds you as tightly as he can. And before you know it, he’s shuddering in your grasp, his body wracked with sobs. Your heart shatters, and you cradle the back of his head. He practically collapses into you, and it has both of you on the floor.

You’ve never seen him like this before. Worry has your stomach twisting and turning, and all you can do is run your fingers through his hair and make sure he knows you’re here. That you’ll never go anywhere without him again.

“I’m so sorry.” Barely coherent, he tightens his grip on you.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, rocking him back and forth as you fight your own tears. “Everything’s okay. I promise, Lele, I’ve got you.”

After a while of you rocking him back and forth, he stops crying. Your shirt is soaked, but you couldn’t care less. You know he needed this, to finally let go of every pent up emotion trapped in his heart, and you want to make sure his thoughts won’t build up like that again.

He falls asleep against you, his grip not loosening. Eventually, you doze off too.

When you wake up, you quickly realize you’re now laying in your bed. The room is pitch black, and it takes you a moment to adjust. Chenle’s nowhere to be found, even when you pat the bed next to you to see if he’d taken his normal spot.

You toss the blanket off your lap. Before leaving the room, you change your wine-stained pants to shorts, and swap your shirt out for a T-shirt. As you walk into the kitchen, you’re surprised to find the light on. Chenle sits at the table, a glass filled with bronze liquid in front of him. With his palms covering his face, he sighs.

“Lele,” you mutter, voice hoarse from sleep.

His tired eyes meet yours, and he quickly averts his gaze and takes a sip of his drink. You shuffle closer and sit directly across from him, clasping your fingers together.

“You’re still up?” you ask.

He nods once.

“Can you talk to me please? This is scaring me.”

He gulps. “I’m so sorry. For earlier. All of it. I have no idea what got into me, and then just—I should’ve left you alone after, too, and I didn’t, and I feel like a fucking ass—”

“Clearly, you’ve had some pent up emotions going on. It’s okay to be confused about them, and I’d never be mad at you for needing me. You’re my best friend. One kiss is not going to ruin us or something. If this is the first time you’ve cried for real since Jay died, you needed that, too.”

“I’m…I don’t know. Embarrassed?”

“Oh, come on.” You scoff. “You’ve done way more embarrassing things in your life that I’ve witnessed.”

“It’s different now.” He frowns.

“Different? How?”

“Everything is different. Jay’s gone, we’ve both changed as people, our families barely even talk anymore. And you know they’ve been best friends for as long as we’ve been alive. If they can drift apart, does that mean we will, too?” he rants, tugging his fingers through his hair.

“Is that what last night was about?”

“I can’t lose you, okay? I panicked last night after I kissed you, ‘cause it felt like I’d ruined everything. And you like, ran away from me, and I—shit, I don’t know. Everything inside me just…froze. All I could think about was that if you left me, too, I’d be completely alone.” He downs the last of his drink, cringing as the liquid rolls down his throat.

“I would never leave you. No matter what.” You reach across the table and grab his hand. “Whatever that meant for you, whether it was an impulsive decision or if you truly wanted it, you can be honest with me. We’re going through a big change right now, you know. Things are going to be confusing and the only way we’ll ever get through it is if we talk about those confusing things.”

He stares where you’re touching him, jaw tightening as his chest rises. “It wasn’t the first time I wanted to.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry if that’s weird—”

“Don’t. Just keep talking.”

“I don’t know what’s going on with me, honestly. I just…it feels like you’re the only person who understands me. The only one who ever will understand me.” His voice shakes as he speaks, and his grip tightens. “Ever since you’ve been back, things have…changed for me, I guess.”

Your heart pounds, apparently hammering against your throat and making it hard to breathe. You refuse to allow any reaction to come out until he’s done, because that’ll counteract everything you’re trying to do here.

“And I don’t know how they’ve changed, to be fair. It’s different. That’s all I know. We’re closer than we’ve ever been, and um…” He closes his eyes, forehead wrinkling as he gains the courage to continue.

“It’s okay,” you tell him. “Keep talking. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I think I…like you.” Chenle’s shoulders slump as the words escape him. “But this is so…so much right after everything with Jay, and I don’t know if I really do, or if it’s because—”

“I get it, Lele.” You send a small smile his way. “It’s not weird, and I completely understand what you’re talking about. At the end of the day, we’ll always be best friends. So if this is something you want to explore, the worst case scenario is we end up right back to being friends, right?”

His widened eyes dart back to yours, shock evident on his face. “What?”

“There’s only one way to figure out if it’s real or if it’s a product of circumstances.” You shrug. “And honestly, I’ve been…the same, I think. I kissed you out there, too. But we don’t have to make this weird. We can let things naturally progress if they do, and until then, we’ll just be us. Okay?”

“How long?” he asks quietly. “When did you start…”

“The night we came back here after everything my mom said,” you tell him. “I needed you, and you refused to leave my side.”

“It was that day for me, too. I saw the look on your face when she said all those things to you. The thought of you and Jay like that got me thinking, I guess.” He lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you for not making this weird.”

“It doesn’t have to be. We’re both adults and we’ve known each other our whole lives. There’s nothing wrong with…exploring something as long as we’ll be okay after if it doesn’t work out.” You release his hand and grab the cup in front of him.

When you stand to put it in the sink, he leans back in his chair and watches you. You’re surprised by yourself, truly, because you expected some sort of awkwardness to start between the two of you after your conversation, but everything feels the same.

You make eye contact with him over your shoulder, and he gives you a small smile. When you make it back over to him, you put your hands on his shoulders.

“You need to get some rest,” you tell him.

“Come with me?” He places his hand over yours.

“Sure.”

He stands, and when he faces you again, the distance between the two of you is minuscule. You’ve known the man in front of you for your whole life. You’ve spent all that time with him, never quite feeling the way you do now.

Maybe it’s because of Jay’s passing, and the two of you are desperately grasping onto something familiar. There’s a pretty decent chance of that, but also…maybe this is how things were always meant to be.

You’re not entirely sure what to expect at this moment, but he pulls you into a hug, squeezing you tightly. You relax in his grasp, returning his gesture with ease. When he lets you go, he grabs your hand and leads you to his bedroom, and just like most nights before this one, the two of you quickly fall asleep wrapped up in each other.

A few days pass with no changes. You woke up first this morning, so you head into his kitchen to start the coffee. Leaning the small of your back on the counter, you close your eyes and inhale the scent of the dark, brewing liquid. Chenle’s shirt hangs off your shoulder, and it’s almost long enough to cover your shorts.

There’s a short knock on the front door, and with a frown, you move to answer it. When you open it, you’re surprised to find a woman behind it. She seems familiar, but you can’t place it.

“(Y/N)?” She frowns, eyeing you. “What are you doing here?”

You chuckle. “Sorry, do we know each other?”

“Oh, you probably don’t know me. Chenle and I dated not too long ago, and he used to tell me about you all the time. I heard about Jay and wanted to stop by and make sure he was okay.”

“Oh, he’s—” You pause, wondering what you should even say to this girl. “He’s sleeping right now. If you come back later, I’m sure he’ll be…um, accepting of conversation.”

Recognition comes back to you as soon as she explains who she is. They broke up over six months ago, and while Chenle didn’t really tell you why, he said he broke up with her. You hear footsteps behind you, and relief floods when you feel Chenle’s presence behind you.

“Did you need something?” he asks her.

“I, um, I heard about Jay. I know how close you guys were, so I wanted to see how you were doing. How are you doing? It’s probably good that (Y/N)’s back, right?” she rambles, clasping her hands together behind her back.

“Thanks for stopping by, but I’m alright. Having (Y/N) back is great, and you should probably get going.” Chenle’s tone stays steady, and you’re shocked to find him so stern with her.

“Chenle, I—”

“I don’t know what your goal was in showing up here, but you shouldn’t have. (Y/N), close the door please.”

You shoot a nervous glance over your shoulder, and then an awkward smile to the girl on the other side, and then do as he says. After, you turn to face him with a raised eyebrow.

“Not even worth the conversation,” he says, shaking his head. “Is that coffee I smell?”

You nod.  “Yep, I figured you’ve made me enough coffee, so it’s probably my turn.”

You rest the small of your back against the counter, and he approaches you, placing his hands on either side of you as he leans closer to you. Your heart races, lodged in your throat as you await his next move.

“You know, your eyes dilate when you look at me,” he teases you.

“Shut up.” You gently push at his chest and laugh. “It’s only because you piss me off.”

“Not according to science.” He gives you a smug grin.

“I cannot believe you’re flirting with me right now,” you tell him, scoffing. “I haven’t even had any coffee yet. I can’t keep up.”

It’s been days since the kiss. So much time has passed, and he hasn’t even so much as tried to kiss you again. The way his gaze flicks down and his smile fades has every logical thought escaping your brain.

“Relax,” he whispers. “It’ll never feel normal if you don’t.”

You let the tension release from your shoulders, and you nod. His hand slides beneath the hem of your shirt, the warmth of his palm directly on your hip. Your face heats up at the gesture, unsure of how to reciprocate or let him know you like it.

“I think we should really talk about all of that, though.” You clear your throat.

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “We’ll talk about it soon. Not at this very second.”

He lifts his other hand to the back of your neck, his thumb stroking your skin as he leans forward. You meet him in the middle and grip onto his shoulders. The kiss is short, and as he pulls away, his eyes flutter open.

“Again,” you say.

He kisses you again, and this time, he moves a little closer to you to make sure his chest is against yours. His fingers weave into your hair, and you let out a short moan. Embarrassment floods through you as you pull away from him and drop your head against his chest.

“Did you just—”

“Don’t you dare.” You shake your head.

“Maybe we should put everything out on the table,” he continues. “Like what…um, what we’re okay with during our…this, and what things are off-limits.”

“I would think that things shouldn’t be off-limits if we’re trying to see if this is real. If we’re…compatible.” Your cheeks burn as the words leave your mouth. “Why are we being like this? We’ve never been awkward talking about sex.”

His eyes widen and his face turns bright red. “Probably because we’ve never talked about sex together. Like me and you.”

“That’s really weird to think about.”

“Sure is.”

“Should we…move on? I think the coffee’s done.” You push his arm away so you can slide away from him. Clearing your throat, you grab two coffee cups from the cupboard.

Chenle leans his back against the counter where you’d just been, with his arms crossed over his chest. You make both coffees and mix them together before turning around to hand him his. He takes it with a smile and a quick thank you, and then you sip your own.

“So,” you start. “Tell me what happened with that girl.”

He sighs. “You really wanna know?”

“Of course, I do. It’s a little weird that I don’t know already.”

“She was weirdly obsessed with you and Jay. Like, constantly was bringing you up despite never having met you, and just…it was weird. Kinda gave me the vibes that she’d just be jealous all the time when you did come around.” He pauses, pursing his lips as he thinks further. “That, and she tried to fuck Jay.”

You choke on your coffee. “Hello? She did what?”

“Yep. Jay came to me immediately, obviously, and I broke up with her right after.” He shrugs. “We weren’t together for that long.”

“It was weird because she did act like she knew me.” You set your cup down on the counter and approach him again. Wrapping your arms around him, you place your head on his chest. He squeezes you closer to him.

“Jay and I talked about you all the time,” he reminds you. “C’mon, you’re our favorite person. Of course, everyone in our lives would know you.”

“You two have always loved to talk, that’s for sure.” You grin up at him, and he feigns annoyance and pokes your side.

It becomes an unspoken rule between the two of you that you’ll start trying to let things happen as naturally as possible. Living in a small town makes it nearly impossible to keep gossip from spreading, so any time you go out together, you make it look as friendly as possible. Regardless, people were going to talk anyway.

You and Chenle are halfway through a bottle of wine at dinner when both your mom and his mom show up. Chenle shares a panicked look with you, but you scoot over to let your mom sit down.

“What are you two doing here?” you ask.

“Yu Baeyoung said she saw you here.” Your mom nudges your arm.

You chuckle. “Yes, I’ve been around for almost a month and a half now.”

“No, silly, she means here. With Chenle,” his mom interjects.

Chenle’s face scrunches up. “Let’s not do this right now.”

“Do what?” Your mom’s brow raises.

“You guys have done this to us our entire lives.” You scratch the top of your head. “Can’t two friends enjoy dinner without meddling?”

“This is a nice place for a couple of friends to hang out.” His mom gestures to the wine. “Drink choice doesn’t seem friendly either.”

“Would you prefer us slamming shots of tequila?” Chenle presses his lips together in a thin line, but he’s incredibly stiff.

You decided not to tell your families about any of this for this exact reason—they’d get way too far ahead of themselves, and the last thing you need is for this not to work out and both sides asking hundreds of questions.

“Baeyoung said she’s seen you guys around together a lot, actually—”

“Mom, please.” Chenle lets out a long sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. “If we had something to tell you, we’d let you know. And if you did think we were here for…I don’t know, whatever, why would you butt in instead of letting us continue?”

You grab your wine glass and finish off what’s left in it.

“We’re just curious.” Your mom pouts and crosses her arms over her chest. “I think you’d be good for each other—”

“For the love of God, you were saying you wanted me with Jay for years just last week. Can I have friends ever? I really think you should go.” You don’t know what part of that sinks under your skin and picks at your soul, but you’re already on a tightrope with your mother.

“Oh, don’t be like that.” She waves you off.

“All due respect, but we’re trying to be normal after our best friend died, okay?” Chenle scoffs and taps his fingers on the table. “The three of us used to go out like this all the time. We’re learning to live without Jay, and it sucks, so if you could not assume things this fast, that’d be great.”

Guilt sinks into your heart, and you drop your head into your hands. You wish you knew what Jay would think of all of this. If he’d call you both crazy for trying to be together when you’ve lost him, a pivotal piece of this friendship circle.

“Chenle, that’s a bit much, don’t you think?” his mom asks.

“It’s not. It’s really not. And not only was he our best friend, but he was the first…passing we’ve experienced. So, we need space if you guys are going to keep assuming things that don’t even matter to you. Even if we were dating, we’re grown adults and we’d tell you when we’re ready.”

You gape at Chenle. He slumps back against the booth and sighs. Your mother shifts next to you, and Chenle’s mom’s smile fades quickly. You’ve done well thus far in distracting yourself from Jay. The days don’t get easier, but they seem shorter, at least. Having Chenle by your side helps. He was right when he said it would never get better, only that you’d learn to adjust to it. Instead of a sharp, stabbing pain every time you think of him, the knife gets a little duller every day. That, or your heart steels in resolve a little bit more.

“He’s right.” You nod. “We’re not teenagers anymore, guys. You don’t need to know everything about us, or gang up on us at dinner. We’re adults trying to navigate life, and you need to give us the room to do that.”

“I never thought of it that way. This was all lighthearted fun, dear. We thought it might help to keep you guys distracted from everything, but we’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want us to do.” Chenle’s mom puts her hand on his shoulder.

Your mom murmurs an agreement, and then after a confirmation from you and Chenle, they get up and leave the two of you to your dinner. You empty the wine bottle between the two glasses and raise your eyebrow at him.

“I like when you stand up for us like that,” you say, leaning back against your seat.

A smile forms on his face as he rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe they just date crashed us. Maybe we’ll be able to go out without the town out to get us one day.”

“Doubtful. But hopefully, we’ll eventually know what this is.” You sip your wine. “Then, it won’t matter what everyone knows.”

His gaze softens and trails over you. “And we’ll be fine either way.”

“That we will.” You raise your glass and smile as he clinks his against yours.

When you get back to Chenle’s house, he guides you inside with a hand on the small of your back. He helps you take your jacket off, and the warm of his touch down your arms sends goosebumps along your skin.

At this point, you’re pretty sure it’s real for you. That your feelings aren’t a product of losing a friend and clinging onto normalcy, but the start of something beautiful you could have with Chenle.

You take a step toward your room, and he grabs your wrist to pull you back to him. He asks, “Where are you going?”

“To change, you loser.” You chuckle. “I’ll be there in a sec.”

“Can’t you just wear something of mine?” He wraps his arms around you. “I like when you wear my stuff.”

“Just say you wanna watch me take my clothes off, you freak,” you tease him.

His eyes widen, and he takes a step back while his cheeks redden. “I wouldn’t just ask you to do that, but if you wanted to—”

“Oh, my God.” You laugh abruptly. “You wanna see me naked.”

“Well, I mean, not if you don’t want me to.” He clears his throat, glancing up at the ceiling.

“You’ve seen most of me already,” you remind him.

“Context matters, you know,” he interjects. “Like, yeah, I’ve seen you in bikinis and stuff, but it’s not like we were gonna do anything about it back then. Am I even making sense? Sure, I’ve seen you pretty close to naked, but it wasn’t because of me? Please don’t let me say anything else.”

“Your awkwardness is slightly endearing.” You snort.

He pouts. “Ass.”

You take a step closer to him, wrap your arms around his shoulders, and press your lips against his. He reciprocates immediately, the gentle movement making your brain malfunction. When you pull away, he’s smiling at you.

“You kissed me.”

“Yes, I did,” you confirm. “We’ve kissed quite a bit the last few days.”

“We have, haven’t we?”

You chuckle and grab his wrist to pull him to his room. He follows you without hesitation and closes the door behind you both before he heads to his dresser. He pulls out a shirt for you and one for himself. You turn away from him and switch the top you’re wearing with his T-shirt. The fabric stops right below your ass, and you reach beneath it to unbutton your pants and push them down your legs. Once they’re off, you turn to get into his bed.

You find him in the exact same spot. His lips are slightly parted as his gaze travels down your body. Your entire life you’d been able to admit to yourself that you found Chenle attractive, because you had eyes. Of course, he was. But for him to not only be attracted to you, too, and also be vocal about it has your mind in shambles.

He watches you closely as you climb into his bed and pull the covers over yourself. You avoid looking at him as he changes, and within moments, he’s shuffling closer to you. He leans over you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, to your temple, to your jawline. Nerves spring in your stomach, but you turn your head to see him.

“Is there something you want?” you ask him.

“This is probably the worst time to say this,” he whispers. “But this is real for me. I know it. These feelings keep getting stronger and I—I wasn’t going to even say anything yet, but I had to tell you in case…”

You suddenly feel embarrassment rise to your cheeks. Chenle’s your best friend, but you did just get into his bed wearing his shirt and an admittedly skimpy pair of panties. You turn to face him.

“Before anything serious happened, I wanted to be sure.” He gulps. “Because that’s obviously…a big deal for us both, you know? And regardless of what we said, I think it’d be hard to go back to the way we were if we had sex and weren’t good for each other.”

“You ramble when you’re nervous,” you say.

“I do.” He chuckles.

“It’s real for me, too,” you whisper. Despite it being the complete truth, a lump forms in your throat. You’re not sure where it came from, but you fight it the best you can.

Relief relaxes his facial features, and then he leans forward slowly until his lips brush yours. His eyes threaten to close, but he waits for you to make a decision. You’re not entirely sure what comes over you, but all you know is that you’ve never needed someone on the level you need Chenle.

You complete the kiss, weaving your fingers through his hair as you shift closer to him. Immediately, it’s like everything around you catches on fire, and it’s much too hot to stay as you are. You gasp into his mouth when his hand trails beneath your shirt, his touch leaving those same flames all over your skin. He grabs your ass and squeezes, a shiver rolling down his spine when he swallows your moan.

“You had to know what you were doing with these,” he murmurs as he slides his fingers just beneath the hem of your panties.

His words sink in, but nothing about this feels awkward to you. You’d be embarrassed if he knew how wet you were from his simple touches. All of that is background noise—all you care about is getting closer to him.

“Why isn’t this weird?” you whisper as you slide your hands beneath his shirt to get him to take it off. “We used to cringe at the thought of—”

“Would you kiss me, damn it?” He pulls you back to him, but instead of the urgency you expect, he kisses you gently, his lips slowly moving on yours. You roll, tugging him to take him with you.

Then he’s on top of you, slotted perfectly between your legs with your shirt riding up to expose more and more of your skin. His eyes scan over you, and he moves his hand up your side until you’re lifting yourself up to remove the fabric. A slight pause befalls both of you.

“What is it?” you ask him.

“I just…can’t believe I’ve never realized this before,” he whispers, eyebrows pinching. “How well we work together.”

You smile. “We’re pretty fucking great.”

“This probably sounds cheesy as hell,” he begins and scoffs at himself. “But you’re the most beautiful person I know.”

“Oh, come on.” Your cheeks heat up.

“No, I’m serious. I’ve always known that. You’re fucking radiant on the outside and warm and kind and loving on the inside. Nothing has ever or will ever be able to take that away from you, and I…” he trails off, swollen lips parting as he searches for what he wants to say next. “Don’t ever leave me. Please.”

You reach up to cup his cheeks. “Lele, I’m not going anywhere. It’s you and me now, okay?”

“I’ll be here as long as you want me,” he murmurs as he lowers himself down. “No matter what.”

Chenle kisses you again, softer this time as if this energy between the two of you is fragile. You slide your hand into his hair and allow yourself to melt. Spreading your legs a little further to accommodate him, you pull at the hem of his shirt. He moves away from you only to take it off, and then he presses kisses on your jaw, down your neck. You’re gasping for air by the time he makes it to the swells of your breasts. He leaves open-mouthed kisses along the edge of your bra, allowing his teeth to graze you.

You let your head rest back against his pillows and sigh as he travels further, stopping once he reaches your navel. Your fingers clench the sheets as you prepare yourself for whatever he’s going to do next.

“This is okay?” he hums against your skin.

“Yeah,” you say breathlessly. “Perfect.”

Being in the dark with only the shine of the stars to illuminate the room has this feeling much more intimate than you thought possible. You’d never imagined yourself in this position—literally—with Chenle, but now that you’re here, you wouldn’t change it for the world.

He tongues along the hem of your panties, and you have to stifle your gasp. The chill of the air contrasts with the wetness left on your skin, and goosebumps travel up your body. His fingers loop through the waistband, and without any words from him, you lift your hips up to help him remove them.

Chenle’s lips find your inner thigh, and you can’t hold back the noise that leaves you. It’s been a while since you’ve craved someone’s touch, and you never want his to leave your body. He already feels so different than everyone else. He’s still your best friend, but now he’s so much more, too. You trust him inexplicably, and this moment will change the trajectory of your lives forever.

You feel his breath against your core, and you drop your head back. He shifts and brings his hand up to hold your body down to the mattress, his thumb sliding between your legs to gently nudge your clit.

“Relax,” he tells you. “I’ve got you.”

He seems nervous himself, but after another shuffle, his fingers slide along your entrance. Your back arches as he pushes them inside. His breath shudders as he feels your walls fluttering around him.

“You’re…perfect, (Y/N),” he says, entranced as he slowly thrusts his hand. “So perfect.”

You whine, squeezing your eyes shut as you adjust to the feeling. When he kisses your clit, you grasp harder onto the sheets. Knowing the man pleasuring you is the one person in the world that knows you the most, that knows who you are within your very soul, has you immersed in every movement he makes. Nobody has ever made you feel this way before.

Sounds of your arousal follow his fingers, and he finally wraps his lips around your clit. You let out a loud moan, your back arching at the overwhelming sensations. He sucks on your sensitive bud, flicking his tongue back and forth in a matching pace with his hand. You squirm below him, and your legs begin to shake at the sensation.

He moves just a little faster, his other hand flat on your stomach to keep you from moving too much. You fear any sounds louder than whispered pleasure might shatter this moment between you and Chenle, but as he brings you closer to the edge, you struggle to hold back.

He curls his fingers to find your spot, and your body jerks. When he repeats the action, he moans, the vibrations against your clit sending you to euphoria. You gasp and your eyes roll back. He aids you through your high, carefully bringing you down before pulling away from your core. You practically slump on the mattress, but you lift yourself up to look at him. He sits up on his knees to get a better look at you, and you watch his every move as he lifts his fingers up to his mouth and sucks your arousal from them. 

You gulp at the sight of him like this, his length straining against his boxers as his darkened eyes travel over your body. His tongue swipes along his lips one last time, and then he’s climbing over you again. You welcome his kiss despite the taste of yourself.

“I need you,” you tell him, pushing at the band of his boxers. “Can’t wait anymore.”

“Are you sure?” he whispers. “You can tell me if you change your mind.”

You shake your head. “Please, Lele.”

He inhales sharply, and then he’s assisting you in pushing the last barrier of clothing off. “Do we need a condom? I have some.”

“I—” Your face heats up. “I’m on birth control, and I haven’t slept with anyone in…um, a long time, so I’m clean.”

“I got tested recently,” he replies. “I’m clean, too. But this is up to you. Whatever you want is cool with me.”

“Waste of time. I want you now.” You pull him in to kiss him, and he sighs against your mouth.

He reaches down and strokes himself a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. His eyes travel along your body, almost as if he’s verifying you’re real. Slowly, he pushes inside, watching your expression carefully to ensure you’re alright.

Your heart thuds in your chest as he continues to move forward, burying himself deep inside you until he’s flush against you. He gives you a bit to adjust, leaning in to kiss down your neck. His hand snakes beneath your body to unclasp your bra, and you arch to assist him in taking it off.

“‘M good,” you reassure him. “You can move.”

“Just need a second like this,” he returns, dropping his head on your shoulder. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

His words send shivers up your spine, and you put your arms around his shoulders. He kisses you again, and pulls out slowly to push back in. The sensation of him rubbing against your inner walls has you gasping. His pace is slow but you’ve never felt so heavenly in your life. As his tongue parts your lips, you wrap your legs around his waist.

When you call out his name, he curses under his breath. Every time he thrusts in, you lift your hips to meet him, despite how you begin to shake from the intensity of all of it. His chest brushes yours with each movement, and his teeth sink into your bottom lip to pull at it.

Never in your life has anything ever felt like this. As if Chenle was the last piece of the 1,000 piece puzzle you deemed life, and you finally found it after all these years. His soft moans have your toes curling, and despite the knot tying in your stomach, you don’t want this to end.

As if he knows every last thought in your mind, he reaches between you and rubs circles on your clit. You shudder in his grasp and dig your nails into his shoulders. He moves faster, and once his tip slides into your spot, you crumble around him. You throw your head back, a moan tumbling from your lips as you fall apart.

Moments after you, his hips falter as he approaches his high. You kiss him hard, and he groans into your mouth, pushing as far into you as he can to finish. The sensation has you gasping all over again, but you hold onto him for dear life.

He thrusts a couple more times to bring you both back to reality, and as he slows to a stop, he peppers kisses on your face. Neither of you move yet. You bask in the feeling of him inside you, and his hand rubs up and down your thigh.

He carefully removes your legs from around his waist, and then he sighs as he pulls out of you slowly. “Let me grab a towel. Hold on.” With a quick kiss to your forehead, he stands up and slips his boxers back on before walking out of the room.

An inherent sense of peace overwhelms you, and once he comes back, he cleans up the mess between your legs before climbing in bed next to you. He cradles the back of your head to his chest, and he hums quietly.

“Try to get some sleep,” he whispers.

With him close and his heart beating beneath your ear, you don’t even have to try.

The birds chirping outside the window wake you up. You’re still tangled up with Chenle, blanket snug around both of you with you curled into his chest. Shifting closer, you think about going back to sleep until he’s ready to get up, too.

“Morning,” he mutters, voice hoarse from sleep.

You shake your head. “More sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He squeezes you and lets out a sigh of content.

Peaceful silence takes the two of you over, and you can’t help but smile at the thought of how far you both have come. You’re on top of the world—your feelings for Chenle are real, and you’ve discovered something you never thought would be possible.

His fingers trace up and down your spine, a deep hum escaping him. “This is real.”

“Mhm,” you reply. “We’re naked right now.”

“And you’re so fucking soft.” He sighs. “Is there any reason we need to get up today?”

“Wouldn’t matter if there was. Not moving.” You kiss the base of his neck.

“Sounds good to me.”

Despite the prospect of being wrapped up in each other all day, eventually, both of you get hungry. He takes you to one of the local diners for breakfast, and you study him closely while he sips his coffee and looks through the menu.

You expected some aspect of your relationship with him to be awkward at this point, but nothing has changed between you. Well, with the exception that every time you see his fingers, heat rises to your cheeks. Besides that, you’re perfectly normal.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks without removing his eyes from the menu.

“Who, me?”

He finally glances up, a smile playing on his lips. “Yes, (Y/N), you.”

“Well.” You clear your throat. “I’m just…thinking.”

“I put that together.” He tips his cup to his lips again.

“What do we do from here?” you blurt out, immediately dropping your head into your palm.

He chuckles and clasps his hands together over the table. “I was waiting for you to bring it up. But if we both know it’s real, and we’ve…gone as far as we have, um, I was hoping we’d be together.”

“That doesn’t scare you?” you ask.

“Does it scare you?” he counters.

You shake your head. “Not at all.”

“Full transparency, then. That’s what I want. I want us to be together and, as insufferable as they are, I want our families to know, too. And I want it to be us against the world, (Y/N). We can do whatever we want.”

“I guess that also brings us to what happens next month.” You look down at your lap. “When I’m supposed to go back to work.”

He gulps but waits for you to continue.

“What if…What if I didn’t go back?” you start. “Think about it. We could stay here.”

“You want to come live here?”

“I…I guess I just—” You pause in an attempt to gather your thoughts. “After everything with Jay, it made me realize how long I’ve really been gone. And being back here…I missed it a little. You and my family and the town itself. I don’t want to miss any part of anyone else’s life. I really did Jay a disservice by not coming around as often as I should’ve.”

“You’d give up all of that work you did for me?” He frowns.

“It’s not just for you, but yes. I don’t fully enjoy what I do. It’s all work and it takes up all my time. Why do that when I could do something around here and get to spend actual free time with you?”

He reaches across the table and grasps your hand. “There’s always room for you with me, but I want you to be sure about something like that. You’ve worked so hard, and if you’re changing your mind because of us, I don’t want to come between you and your dreams.”

“I’ve been thinking about it before we started this,” you tell him. “From the second I heard about Jay. I certainly don’t want you out here by yourself.”

“Don’t think we could swing long distance?” He cracks a smile.

“Ridiculous.” You scoff and take a drink of your coffee. “We have some time. Let’s think about it later, alright?”

“Agreed.”

After breakfast, Chenle leads you out of the restaurant with your fingers intertwined. You try not to blush at the simple gesture, but you can’t help it. He leads you to the passenger side of his car, and you lean back against the metal. The distance between you two is almost non-existent, and his hand rests on your waist.

“You’re sure you don’t care if people know?” he asks.

“Positive.” You grin.

He cups your cheek, smiling back at you as he strokes your skin with his thumb. After, he leans in and kisses you. Oxygen is stolen from your lungs, but you relish in the feeling of him. The sun feels warmer, the day a little brighter, and your heart a little fuller.

You never expected this to be the answer—for you to find a different kind of solace in your best friend, but you’re here anyway.

He winks at you once he pulls away, earning him a slap on the chest. After you roll your eyes, he opens the door for you and guides you into the car.

By the time you make it back to his house, he leads you inside. You’re barely a few feet within the door when both of your phones start buzzing. He takes his out of his pocket, shows you it’s his mother calling, laughs, and tosses it on the couch. You follow his lead, and then he grabs your hand and pulls you towards his room.

“If you thought you were going to make it out of here for long, you were mistaken.” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you flush against him. “I have plans for us today. Our schedule’s booked actually, and it mostly involves us in my bed.”

“Luckily for you, that’s exactly what I was hoping for.”

“Oh, good. Hopefully, they don’t decide to come here. Probably not the show they thought they’d be signing up for.” He ponders the thought for a moment.

“Shame on them for not respecting our privacy,” you mutter, grasping onto the back of his neck. “Maybe it’ll teach them to back off a little.”

“You’re so right,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you.

Tugging you closer, he whirls you around to walk you back toward his bed, where you’re more than ready to spend the next few hours.

Later that night, you and Chenle are ready for bed, with you curled into his chest. He runs his fingers through your hair, humming quietly. You don’t recognize the melody, but he relaxes you all the same.

“Do you think this ever would’ve happened if Jay were still here?” you ask him as you trace shapes on his shoulder.

He purses his lips in thought. “I’d like to think so.”

“Me, too,” you admit. “This feels…like things were always supposed to be this way.”

“I can’t imagine it any other way now.” He takes a deep breath. “I needed this. You. And I can’t believe there was a time where we weren’t like this.”

You move so you’re resting on top of him, chests pressed together. He clasps his hands together over the small of your back.

“He’d be happy for us, right?” You scan over his face, tracing over his cheekbones with your finger.

“Of course,” Chenle says without hesitation. “I think he’d be asking a bunch of questions right now. Like how we knew, what we were gonna do about all of this, if he’s going to be the man of honor or the best man.”

“God, he so would.” You laugh.

“And he’d be insufferable about it, too.”

“He’d be the man of honor, by the way. I was his favorite.”

Chenle’s smile grows. “I love you.”

Your heart stops in your chest, and your lips part as you stare at him in shock. Although, you should’ve expected it. You fell for him, too, but hearing it verbalized is a whole new story you’ve never considered before.

Hell, the two of you frequently told each other those three words, but you know now they hold much more importance than they ever have.

“You…”

“Yeah, I do.” He nods.

“Like…romantically?”

“You’re such a loser,” he teases you. “Yes, romantically. Don’t make me take it back now.”

“I’ll be sad if you take it back, ass.” You narrow your eyes at him. “And I love you, too, if that wasn’t clear.”

He squeezes you tightly, chuckling when the air rushes from your lungs. While you never quite expected things to work out this way, you wouldn’t change what’s become of your relationship with Chenle. He was—and is—your best friend, and for some reason, all you can do is look forward to the future, where he’ll be more. Best friend always, but also the one you love.

The last couple weeks before you’re supposed to return to work are hectic to say the least. It feels as if you and Chenle are rushing to figure things out—where the two of you will stand when you leave and what you’ll do in the meantime.

So, in an attempt to get your minds distracted, you opt to go have a couple drinks with Jay. Of course, you had to stop and get his favorite beer—the same one you’d always hated and that Chenle’s not too fond of, but for Jay, you would endure it.

He brings a blanket. When you find Jay’s headstone, he spreads out the fabric and waits for you to sit before he joins you. You grasp onto his hand, and his knee bumps yours, but that’s the only physical contact you have with him.

Chenle opens up three cans—one for him, one for you, and one for Jay.

This isn’t the first time you’ve done this together, but it very well be the last. You don’t want to leave him. Not really. But he refused to let you give up what you’d worked hard for. You escaped the town, and he didn’t want you to even think about coming back when you’ve got so much left to do in your new city.

Chenle sips the drink, cringing at the taste. “Can’t believe he liked this shit.”

“He had peculiar tastes, that’s for sure.” You chuckle and refrain from touching your own. “You think he can really hear us when we’re talking to him like this?”

“Stranger things have happened,” he replies.

“That’s the truth,” you tease him and nudge his shoulder. “Maybe we should break the news to Jay.”

He takes the third can and dumps some over the grass. You both watch as it absorbs, and once Chenle’s satisfied, he purses his lips.

“You’ve missed a lot, dude.” He lets out a long sigh. “Almost three months without you feels unreal.”

You squeeze his hand and send a soft smile his way.

He continues, “But I seriously think you’d be pissed at us if we admitted we were still sad, so…(Y/N) and I are…together. Like, we’re dating. And to be honest, we’re both not too sure where it came from, but we keep each other sane after all this stuff.”

You loop your arm through his and rest your head on his shoulder. Fighting back tears, you realize how much you’d missed as well. There were stories you had yet to hear. Some you’d never get the chance to.

“I’d like to think you’d be happy for us.” You chuckle and take another drink. “You and this God awful beer.”

“I can almost hear him defending it right now.” Chenle sends a dazzling grin your way, and you watch him fondly. You never imagined coming back home would lead to all of this.

You and Chenle talk to Jay for a while. The sun shines pleasantly against your skin, warmth seeping into your bones. Chenle tells the story of you two falling for each other, how it was gradual and unexpected. Things had simply shifted, and everything became much more than you’d ever imagined.

When the sun begins to set, you wrap up your time with Jay. All three cans are empty. You grab them while Chenle folds the blanket, and then you head back to his car. His arm is firmly around your waist, and you fight the urge to melt into him.

As soon as you’re inside his house, he drops the blanket and takes the objects from your hands. Next thing you know, you’re wrapped up in one of the tightest hugs Chenle’s ever given you. You reciprocate the best you can, threading your fingers through his hair to soothe him.

“You okay?” you ask him.

“Yeah. Just wanna hold you for a sec.”

You hum in agreement, allowing yourself to melt into his grip. He kisses the top of your head, and when he pulls away to look at you, a fond gleam appears in his eyes.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says.

“Uh oh,” you interject, fighting your grin as he purses his lips in faux annoyance.

“What if I went with you?”

You recoil. “What?”

“I’ve wanted to get away from this place. You made it out. Let’s go together.” He looks at you earnestly as he awaits your response. “I love you, (Y/N). Being apart from you isn’t exactly what I want at this point.”

“You want…to move with me?”

“If you’re okay with it.” Chenle nods. “Think of the life we could build together. A real one that’s not influenced by the crazy ass people in this town.”

You flounder for words to say. This is the last thing you expected from him, but maybe you should’ve thought of this yourself. Chenle had run into a hard time because he’d wanted out for so long. You could help him.

“I don’t want you to give up everything you’ve worked for. Living here isn’t in the cards for you right now, and I understand that. But we both have an opportunity here. You keep doing what you set out to do, but this time, we don’t have to be apart.” He fiddles with the seam of your shirt, almost nervously avoiding your gaze.

“Okay.” You take a deep breath. “If you’re sure that’s what you want, come with me.”

He grins so widely, you’re almost worried it hurts. Cupping your cheeks, he kisses you hard, and you almost stumble backwards.

This was the beginning of a new journey for both of you. Neither of you were sure what to do without Jay around, and you wouldn’t feel right leaving Chenle all by himself. If he wanted to come with you, you’d be more than happy to have him.

You’ll get him out of this town he’s come to resent, and he’ll be by your side for every success and failure.

There’s something special about falling for your best friend—about loving someone who you’d already loved and known so thoroughly, it’s mostly as if nothing changed at all. Maybe this part of your relationship with him was always there, and you’d both been too blind to see it.

All you know is, after a clear shift in energy, things between you and Chenle became real.

You wonder about Jay. If he sees the two of you, if he’s proud of you. At the end of the day, you could spiral until your brain gives out, but if there’s one thing you could expect from Jay, it’s that he’ll never stop checking in on you and Chenle. Your group is incomplete without him, but you’ll learn to live in a different manner.

With Chenle by your side, there’s not a damn thing in the world that could bring you down.

[saerins]

PREV: #002 PLAYING DOMINO 𖧧 #003 THE FIRST RIPPLE 𖧧 NEXT: #004 THIS SPARK, IS IT REAL? ꒰ series masterlist ꒱

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — ever since the first meeting, you’ve proven to be an anomaly. and yet again, sae finds himself out of character, doing things he didn’t think he would.

content: itoshi sae x female reader. angst/fluff, profanity, physical/verbal abuse, violence, mentions of infidelity, broken homes, unrequited love, manipulation/gaslighting. word count: 6.7k

༝༚༝༚ more yn and sae for this chapter yay !! ty to all of you who are reading this heh mwah you guys are my motivation <3 let’s hope i keep this pace up so some of you can get the tea faster :p

somehow, the fact that you’d managed to help land an interview with itoshi sae has given you some perks at work. (you’d let sumi take the credit for it, but considering your voice is on the recording, it was hard to deny your involvement.) the best of it all? sumi’s right; mr tatsuji is so absolutely pleased that he barely bothers to visit your department to chide any of you.

that way, at least if your personal life is a mess, your career is not. (for now.)

after three days of staying over at eita’s, you’re finally lugging your feet back home today. besides, he has a date and you’re not about to play third wheel when he inevitably comes home with her.

that’s otoya eita for you.

he insisted that it’s fine and if he really wanted to get some that he’d bring her to a hotel, but you’d really rather not get used to putting up at someone else’s house. especially when, technically, you do have a place to stay.

as you unwillingly (and slowly, painachingly) trudge back to your apartment, you can’t help but revisit your messages with sae. ever since you told him you’d let him follow you if he made a private account, he hasn’t responded since.

were you just in over your head? maybe he was just bored and was passing time by texting you. maybe he didn’t really mean it. maybe someone else took his phone and texted you just to make fun of you. 

time to time, you still think of the night you met, how his eyes fluttered close, how he stayed rooted in position, how you would’ve actually done it out of curiosity if it wasn’t for the fact that it was a public place with cameras littering every few inches of space.

you sigh, locking your phone and tossing it back in your purse. in the end, maybe itoshi sae really is just someone for you to admire from afar. maybe that’s for the best; you can’t imagine how it’d even feel like dating someone who has such a big spotlight cast on him.

the evening air is chilly, the lights of the nearby shopping mall a warm golden, the sea of people walking past you soon to drown out. if you didn’t know better, you’d think you’re living a privileged life—being able to live in such a nice district, with a better-than-average apartment that had been fully paid for since you were born. and if life had been kind to you, then maybe you’d like living at home more than you do now.

but as it is, going home only serves as a reminder to all your problems. unescapable, unavoidable, unbearable. and maybe it’s not such a good move for you to depend on eita a lot to be your escape, to help you forget about all of it, at least when you’re with him, but you can’t help it. escapism feels nice. it’s nice to be around someone who knows about it and still accepts you, even though you and him don’t see eye to eye about it most of the time. 

your stomach’s growling, and the macarons at the bakery’s display that you walk past are both nostalgic and tempting. but you can’t afford that.

something as simple as a box of macarons.

hang in there for the long term, you tell yourself. one day, you’ll get everything back. 

not ten minutes later, you’re at your own doorstep, hesitating to even enter. through the door you can hear the sound of the television. it’s loud and playing some drama that always airs at this timing. you’ve heard the same voices so many times before.

it’s funny to think that these sounds used to feel like home to you.

either way, you have to get this over and done with, so you slot your key in and walk through the door, carefully toeing off your shoes as though being quiet would make you escape her notice.

“and where did you go off to the last few days? can’t even come home and be a dutiful daughter and eat with her own mother?”

it hasn’t even been five seconds. 

all that ever awaits you at home now is the vile spit of your mother’s. it’s laughable because all she says is nonsense. you haven’t eaten on the same table together in years, even if you have been living under the same roof.

some part of you can’t help but be defiant. you know it’s a bad idea, but she’s out of line, and yet you’re still helping her. and you can’t figure out why.

“how about you be a dutiful mother and stop spending all your daughter’s money and go find a job?”

there’s a sharp sound that bounces off the walls of the living room quicker than you can expect it, and it takes you five seconds and the sting on your cheek to realise your mother had just slapped you with all her might.

not an ounce of hesitation or regret. there is only fury in her eyes as she looks down at you, summoning every bit of disdain she can muster. 

of course, how could you forget? this is what you get for talking back to her. it’s been a while since she’d last laid a hand on you, so maybe you’d gotten cocky, thinking she wouldn’t do it again.

“is this all you’re good for? you’re not using that filthy mouth to jack people off so you’re using it to spite me?”

there’s a lot you want to say.

you want to talk back to her again, to say that she’s the useless one out of the two of you. the one who doesn’t work yet gambles all day. the one who spent all the savings and insurance money so she’s fully depending on you month to month.

you want to tell her that you’re not some whore who goes around fucking everyone you see. she always hated eita, but that’s because he knows she’s no good. that’s also why you never tell him if she lays her hand on you. you don’t want to get them into any altercations. you also want to tell her eita’s taken better care of you than she ever has, and you don’t even have to jack him off for it.

but you stay silent.

because silence is the most comfortable you can get with her. no matter what you say or do, it will never suffice for her. she wants money, and she’s only angry because you haven’t been home to give it to her. it’s why you lock your own door every time you head out or go to sleep. you don’t want to find your own belongings gone by the time you’re back. neither do you want to find her snooping around your room in the middle of the night.

both of which have happened before.

taking advantage of your shock, she yanks your purse out of your hand, fishing for your wallet and grabbing all the cash she can find before tossing it back to you.

there’s no mercy in her eyes as she glares at her own daughter, the one she carried herself in her womb for nine whole months and once sworn to love. and now she blames the same little girl for ruining her body and refuses to take responsibility for her.

“listen, be a good girl and just give me what i ask for okay?” her tone is nothing but condescending and threatening. “if you’d just behave yourself, i wouldn’t have to do shit like that. think a little, would you?”

the demon that is your mother speaks as if you’re in the wrong, sighing to herself as she lights a cigarette and walks away, stuffing your hard-earned money in her purse before making for her room and slamming the door as she completely disposes of you for the day. she already got what she wanted, after all.

utterly defeated, you completely forget about your hunger, retreating into your room, locking the door behind you and falling to the floor. your vision blurs and your cheek still stings. you wonder if it’ll leave a mark like it did the last time.

your phone vibrates once.

blurry vision aside, you can tell it’s eita from the name alone. his talk to me if you need anything, okay? is bright on your phone screen, the only light in this room because you don’t have the energy to turn on the lights. you’re not feeling exceptionally hopeful today. the dark seems just right.

you’re thankful that you have a friend like him. you probably don’t deserve how nice he is to you. but you don’t want to talk to him. you don’t think you want to talk to anyone.

maybe just one person.

but he’s six foot under and inaccessible to you.

you’re not sure when you made it onto your bed—your head’s a mess. it always is when you speak to her. that’s why you scream into the pillow, willing your energy away, trying to drown your thoughts with your voice, dreaming of the day you can break free from this cycle.

thunder, pitter patter, raindrops against the windowsill.

the lightning helps you make out the time from the clock on the wall above your door. 

1am. your lips are chapped and the tears are dry against your cheeks. you’d subconsciously slept on the right side, your left still aching from earlier.

slowly, you get up, legs crossed and sitting on your bed, your earlier distress dissipated just slightly, mind a little clearer. (and always questionable.) your phone’s dead and you honestly don’t really care—what you do care about is your stomach’s incessant growling.

it wouldn’t take a genius to know that your mother cleared out all the food in the kitchen. it looked barren earlier from what you could see, maybe just a couple slices of bread and some condiments. you wouldn’t want to start cooking in the middle of the night either, lest she wakes up and you have even more to deal with.

the rain starts to lighten up by the time you’re out of the house, comfortable in your oversized windbreaker. you walk slowly, your slides already soaked from walking in the rain. it’s a nice cooling temperature, the wind in your face making you feel refreshed, like everything that’s horrible could be just a dream.

if only.

a light ten-minute walk later, you’re browsing through the aisles of the convenience store, wondering which brand of processed food is worthy to be your dinner. you hover between the cup noodles on the shelves and the sandwiches in the chiller, taking your time because home is not a place you’re exactly aching to go back to.

can you even call it a home at this point?

eventually, you waltz out of there with a warm tub of noodles, palms relishing in its warmth and your nose inhaling every last bit of its aroma.

dinner could be better, but you suppose you can’t complain when you’re trying your best to save up. after all, it’ll be a pain if your mother figures out the stash of savings you’re hiding. the last thing you want is for her to steal that away from you. then how would you ever move out on your own?

shaking your head as you settle down on a park bench on the opposite side of the road, you decide to throw those thoughts aside for now. it’s not a current problem that you need to mull over right now and destroy your mood. no, right now, what you need is just a peaceful night.

what’s past (earlier) is past.

even though it’s easier said than done when your tears start flowing one by one, and suddenly these noodles are saltier than you remember.

“sure you can’t come?”

sae looks at bianca through the passenger side window, her pout ever present. “nah, i’m tired. besides, if i oversleep who’s gonna drive you to the airport, huh?”

bianca grins at him, seemingly pacified. she reaches a hand into the car, perfectly manicured nails in full view before she clenches it into a fist, holding just a pinky out. “promise you’ll see me off tomorrow?”

there’s something between the lines that sae doesn’t get, nor is he sure he wants to. in all honesty, he’s not even sure why a promise is wanted here but he sticks out his pinky all the same anyway, because he’s pretty sure he won’t miss the alarm when it rings.

“yay, see you!”

“see you,” sae echoes as she bounds towards her friend’s place, ready for a last night of catching up over a game of cards before she flies back to america. as she disappears from his view, he wonders why she even tried to invite him in the first place. they’re her friends, he’s not really needed there anyway.

tuning out of those thoughts, sae drives off, already planning the remainder of the night. it’s 1am, and it’ll be near two by the time he makes it back to his apartment. that leaves him around a six hour sleep before he has to get up and send bianca off.

now that he’s thinking about it, since when has it become routine for him to send her off every time?

before he can even gather his thoughts about it, he steps on the brakes abruptly, wondering what the hell is wrong with some people to not be looking at both sides of the road before they cross, nearly pressing on the honk before something tells him not to. it’s distracting; the fact that the passing silhouette looks familiar and yet not at all.

against his better judgement, he pulls over by the side of the road, deciding to trust his gut. it’s late at night and there’s no reason for it but is that really you sitting on a park bench eating cup noodles past one in the morning? alone?

sae steps out of the car, mask on, pulling his hat down and his hoodie over his head to conceal himself, though some might argue he looks like he’s about to kidnap someone like this. he’s painfully aware this is dumb, and there’s no point to this, because what if it is you? it’s not like he has any reason to talk to you.

he stops midway, checking his phone and scrolling to your messages, his okay still sitting in the text box, unsent. fuck, he didn’t even realise until now. it didn’t help that he had a hectic schedule back to back for the past few days either. he never got around to creating that private account. he’ll just have to do it later.

a fleeting thought comes to him, wondering if you thought he was just pulling your leg about wanting to follow you. sure seems like it to him.

but he continues walking towards that park bench, towards that girl he thinks might be you, without knowing whatsoever what his next move will be. all he knows is that if that really is you, he’d rather say hello than say nothing at all.

even if it means making a detour that would undoubtedly make him endlessly tired the next day. for some reason.

and call him crazy, but as he draws closer, even without seeing your face, he knows it’s you somehow.

there’s something off about you, he doesn’t know what it is yet, but he can feel it. maybe he’ll find out. maybe he’ll try.

“hey, rude girl.”

just by the way your body stiffens up, he knows you recognise his voice. you choke on your noodles, coughing a little and rubbing your face before you whip your head upwards to face him, your eyes going wide with surprise.

“itoshi sae?”

why doesn’t he like it when you call him by his full name? it sounds weird, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“what are you doing here? do you live in the area?” you ask, setting your almost-empty cup of noodle on the bench. your voice is a little hoarse than he remembers, and your eyes are slightly puffy. there’s a faint swollenness on your left cheek, something he can see you’re desperately trying to hide behind your hair. it’s not really working.

he shakes his head, hands in his jacket pocket. “no, i was just dropping my friend off.” his eyes shift from you to the noodles. “supper?”

sae notices your eyebrow twitch ever so slightly, your nostrils flaring a little before you grin at him. “yeah, i missed lunch so this is me making up for it,” you giggle, offering a thumbs up.

is it bad to say he doesn’t believe you? you’re alone in the middle of the night on a park bench eating instant noodles with a slightly swollen cheek. yet you’re in front of him acting like nothing’s wrong.

this is already far from what he’d usually do. if you were anyone else, he would’ve just drove past and forgotten in a few days that he ever saw them. but as it is, here he is, standing in front of you, car parked illegally by the curb, just to verify that it really is you for no apparent reason.

still, he’s glad he did. you look like you’ve gotten a year’s worth of bad news judging by the state you’re in. and sae usually doesn’t cater to people, expects people to tell him what they need, not make him guess, but he’s already guessing what you might need.

your stomach is still growling, though you’re trying to hide it by slumping on the bench, arms over your stomach. sae has no idea why you feel like you have to hide, or who probably slapped you in the first place, but he finds himself disposing of your noodles before he’s grabbing you gently by the hand, tugging you along with him.

“hey, uh, where are we going?”

despite your shallow hesitation, sae feels your fingers curl around his palm. his heart skips a beat. he stops in his tracks, turning back around to face you. there’s an inexplicable emotion stirring inside him when he looks into your eyes.

his free hand comes up to remove his cap, putting it over your head and pushing it down to fit better. he doesn’t have a mask for you, but it’ll do. something tells him you don’t really want other people to see your face right now. and while the circumstances are different, he supposes he understands how it feels.

maybe you think he’s doing this because he’d rather not be papped with a girl, rather not have any more dating rumours. he’ll let you keep thinking that. he’ll keep acting like he doesn’t see the wound you’re desperately trying to hide.

for now.

“i’m hungry, eat with me,” is all he tells you before he resumes dragging you along behind him, calloused hands wrapping over your own.

sae’s not hungry in the least. he’d eaten probably three meals worth of food with bianca before this since she’d dragged him to a korean barbecue joint.

but you’re hungry. you’re starving and you’re not acting like it and you don’t say a thing about it—he doesn’t really get you.

he wants to.

maybe that’s why he’s doing all this. maybe that’s why he lets you in his car, drives to an izakaya he knows all too well. maybe that’s why he keeps stealing glances at you in the car, and maybe that’s why he feels a little warm inside when he catches you smiling to yourself.

as you sit silently beside him as he drives, your fingers fiddle nervously with each other. never did you think that you’d end up in sae’s luxurious car tonight of all nights. as if it wasn’t apparent enough before, after seeing his car, this definitely looks like a life that’s far beyond your reach.

you wonder if sae is the type of person who likes cars. it’s never indicated anywhere if he is. you recognise the brand; you don’t know the exact model but it’s a maserati, wrapped a matte black, at that. the interior leather seats are comfortable, and his air freshener smells nice.

on top of that, he’s driving you to someplace because he’s hungry too. talk about luck and coincidence.

you were thinking of just taking a short walk before going back home, but you’d take his invitation over that any day. you’re not sure where he’s taking you, but your feet are tapping in anticipation, though you hope it’s not anywhere expensive because you’re definitely not dressed the part.

beside you, sae’s not exactly dressed in anything fancy, but with looks like that? he would look expensive dressed in anything.

“quit staring,” sae mumbles, and you hurriedly avert your gaze, embarrassed at getting caught although you snicker a little when you catch the hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks. “what are you laughing at?”

you try to suppress a grin, biting on your lower lip. “you’re not as uncaring as the internet makes you seem,” you ponder out loud.

sae accepts your train of thought. he’s well aware that’s how he comes off in real life too. “and?” it’s a red light so he stops the car, turning his head to look straight at you.

is he asking you what you think of him?

you feel your heart skip a beat. he’s pretty, and he’s staring at you with those clear teal eyes of his and it makes you want to drown in them for some reason. he’s not as unfeeling as he comes across, and for him to bother taking you with him just to eat must mean you don’t fall into the category of people he finds to be just a waste of time. 

you want to know what this is.

“i don’t know, you’re like a cat,” you shrug, reverting back to your unserious self. “but i’ll let you know again once i get to know you better, itoshi sae.”

he looks away, the green light barely seeping through his windows. he doesn’t understand. “if you even get that far, that is.” (he likes how you already assume you’ll get to know him more. are you looking to spend more time with him?) 

you grin, making an internal bet with yourself. “just you wait,” you tell him, confident in your abilities. “i have a habit of growing on people.”

(sae chuckles internally, because he doesn’t doubt you. you already are.)

“are you sure this place is open?” you ask, discreetly tapping lightly on your cheeks, deciding that maybe you look just fine now. and it doesn’t seem like there’s a soul here anyway.

once sae parks his car into the lot, you take his cap off and look around, the sleek stand-alone three-storey building looking completely closed on the outside. there’s no other cars parked here—surely they’re not still open?

sae takes his keys out of the ignition, stuffing it into his jacket pocket. he looks nonchalant for the most part. “don’t worry, i know the owner, let’s go.”

you shrug to yourself, placing his cap neatly on the dashboard before getting up. he waits and observes as you get out of his car, making sure you’re beside him before he starts walking towards the restaurant. you notice him matching your pace, with you shamelessly adjusting it just to check.

before he enters through the doors, he looks at you, “there’s no one else around. just the owner’s nephew who’ll be cooking for us.”

the shopkeeper’s bell chimes as he makes his way inside, holding the door for you, and you wordlessly enter, even though you’re wondering why he feels the need to tell you that. is it because you look like a mess and he thought you’d care?

it’s cosy and warm inside, classical music filling the air, every table wiped spotlessly clean that they’re shining as the lights from the ceiling bounce off of their surfaces. there’s nobody you can see here, are they in the kitchen?

sae puts his fingers around your wrist this time, walking you through the restaurant, meandering expertly like he’s been here a thousand times. your eyes fall to his fingers; they’re gentle yet firm, and you’re only hoping he doesn’t realise how fast your pulse is right now.

in the end, you find yourself seated across from him on a tatami seating in a private room, browsing through the menus that are already placed on the table.

“order anything you want,” sae says, not looking up from his menu.

you hum in excitement as you start to really look at all the options you have. “oh? if you say it like that i’m not gonna hold back, you know,” you joke around, though sae doesn’t really sense it.

he just shrugs, “sure, go ahead.”

sae ends up regretting it though, not because you’re shamelessly spending a lot on his card, but because he finds out you’re the type to over-order. by the time the food is all cooked and sent to the table, sae’s eyebrows twitch, eyes flicking over across the room to look at you, grinning from ear to ear.

“both of you must be starved, huh?”

you look to the side, only now noticing the guy in the white chef’s coat that came to deliver the food. he has curly light brown hair, with eyes a shade or two darker. a grin is plastered on his face, and by the way sae speaks to him, it seems like they know each other quite a fair bit.

“oh, by the way, this is naruhaya,” sae introduces to you, and the guy holds his hand out for you to shake. “this is y/n.”

“nice to meet you!”

naruhaya’s beaming, a contrast to sae’s usual stoic expressions, but he’s back to small talk with the latter in a second. you leave them to it, until your ears perk up when he mentions a certain model’s name.

“hey, weren’t you with bianca earlier? where’s she?”

bianca—that name isn’t unfamiliar to you. after a crash course from sumi (because somehow she decided you need to know more gossip about itoshi sae after getting to know him in person), you had learned that she’s the model that sae is most rumoured to actually be with. and you’ve seen her from the pictures sumi shoved up your neck—she’s beautiful.

was she the friend he was dropping off earlier?

“meeting her other friends. anyway, sorry to keep you open.”

naruhaya waves it off with his hand. “it’s fine, i was gonna stay and try to whip up some new recipes anyway,” he says, before shooting you a knowing look. what exactly it means, you have zero idea. “i’ll leave you two to it, enjoy!”

once he leaves, you begin to dig in, lathering your meat with sauce, unashamedly inhaling your food because that earlier stint with your mother was entirely too much and you need to destress.

somehow, with sae being as nice as he is, you feel a teeny bit guilty for trying to dupe him into that interview. but you doubt that if you’d asked him normally that you would be here with him tonight so maybe there’s some merit in being reckless like that.

“what’re you smiling about now?” sae sighs, taking a piece of meat and putting it over his rice. “pleased that you’re getting a free meal or something?”

partly. but mostly, you’re pleased that you get alone time with him somehow. maybe it’s stupid, and maybe you sound like half of the female population in the country, but you can see why people ogle over him. if they got to know him like this, then you’d have no doubt that he’d manage to charm their pants off.

though, something tells you he doesn’t treat people like this often, let alone someone he barely knows.

“mhm,” you agree, shit-eating grin on your face because there’s no way you’re going to be so upfront about it. the last thing you want is to ruin a friendship when it’s barely started.

yeah, maybe that’s what you want—friendship. is it weird if you say that itoshi sae gives you the feeling that you can trust him? the last time someone made you feel that way was eita. but somehow, this time, it feels different in a way you can’t explain.

as you’re both digging in, you ask him whatever you’re curious about; how he got into soccer, what his life was like growing up, everything under the sun, only because he entertains you like he did that very first night.

“you ask a lot of questions, are you gonna ask me to get another interview approved or something?” he asks, deadpan as he slurps up the soba.

you chuckle, shaking your head. “no. i just want to know you.”

sae stills at your honesty, this being one of the rare times you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve. thump, thump, thump—it’s weird how you make him so aware of his heartbeats when you’re with him. it’s weird how he feels the same way.

then, he sees a familiar sight, you reaching your hand out across the table, your pinky pointed towards him. “i promise you, no hidden agendas this time.”

he swallows the lump in his throat, hooking his pinky with yours before he knows it, the inexplicable emotions only growing by the second.

even though he’s curious about you too, something tells him that you won’t answer him seriously. not tonight. so he keeps it to himself. he’ll find a chance to ask you next time.

if there is a next time. 

he’ll just have to make it happen.

halfway through the dinner, you have about a quarter of the food left and sae looks like he’s about to burst. he didn’t really look hungry to you, eating slowly all the way. you probably ate at least twice as much as he did. 

“you sure you were hungry?”

“not anymore,” sae deflects, putting his chopsticks down. he looks at you, leaning back and staring at the leftovers in awe. he almost snorts from how dazed you look. “i’ll get naruhaya to pack these, wait here.”

“thanks,” you call after him, knowing just how much of a food coma you’re going to be in once you’re back home.

sae stares at his phone as he navigates through the corridors to find the kitchen; it’s already 2.30am. time passes really fast with you for some reason. usually it’s a bore to sit with people he barely knows, they normally can’t keep a conversation. either that or he doesn’t really click with them. (as evident in the many times he was put in the same room with friends of friends and all that was there is awkward silence and forced conversations.) 

not you though.

you’ve always been interesting. you’re intriguing, and a little bit more daring than he’s used to. you’re not that shy, by what he could tell when you so effortlessly reached across the table and snapped a picture of the both of you eating, telling him you want to give him something to remember you by.

as if that’s your last meeting.

he looks at the picture in his photo album. a subtle smile tugs on his lips, and there’s a flutter in his heart that he can’t seem to ignore.

maybe he’s jumping the gun but… he thinks you could be worth any amount of sleep he’s going to lose.

naruhaya enters the private room alone, armed with takeaway boxes, and you smile sheepishly at him as he does. sae must be in the bathroom if he’s here alone.

“sorry, i think i ordered a little too much,” you apologise, rubbing the back of your head. “but it’s all really delicious, really.”

it really is. you’ve never had meat so tender before, and you’re almost sad thinking you’ll probably never get to eat this again. not with the price tag on it. 

“relax, i believe you,” naruhaya hums as he carefully places the leftovers in boxes. “so, how’d you get to know sae? photoshoot?”

you narrow your gaze at him, pressing your lips into a faint smile. “if you’re trying to flatter me, it’s working,” you joke, before shaking your head. “no, no, i’m not a model. i’m just a friend of a friend.”

naruhaya blinks at you like he’s surprised. “whose?”

“eita. otoya eita. why?”

“oh, it’s nothing. just… surprised sae brought another girl here for once,” naruhaya laughs nervously, packing the boxes into a clear bag. “usually it’s either oliver and gang or, well, bianca. but i haven’t seen her here in a while, actually.”

you get the feeling that sae and bianca are really, really close. 

“i think he just came here on a whim,” you brush it off. “we only met a week ago so i doubt you’ll see me here again anyway.”

naruhaya’s mouth forms an ‘o’, before it reverts back to that knowing smile again. both of you hear footsteps against the wooden floors of the izakaya, so naruhaya takes this chance to whisper in your ear.

“i think… you must be pretty special then, huh?”

before you can even ask him what he means by that, sae strolls through the door, oblivious to the earlier conversation, gaze pointed to you. “ready to go?”

you nod, taking the bags from naruhaya as sae escorts you out of there. “bye, naruhaya! i love your cooking!”

he laughs as you wave enthusiastically to him, and he winks at you right before sae turns around to look at him. “oi, sae, bring her over anytime, okay?” to which sae only waves it off, leaving you to wonder if you’ll ever actually see naruhaya again.

“you keep those,” sae tells you after the both of you get into his car, referring to the takeaway boxes. he’d told naruhaya to give you some extra meat, just in case. if he remembered right, eita once said you have quite the appetite.

he pulls out of the parking lot after you give him your address, driving the speed limit all the way back. he’s honestly kind of tired, and he can see that you are too. won’t hurt to make it back a little quicker than you came. 

“sure you don’t want some?”

“i’m fine, i’ll be busy for the next week or so anyway. i won’t even be home.”

there’s a hint of disappointment in your chest when you hear that, though you chide yourself for your wishful thinking. what makes you think you can run into a celebrity so easily anyway if he is in japan?

“oh, you’re gonna be away? try not to miss me.”

sae chuckles, softly, at the way you can be so unserious—it’s something you hear for the first time, and you feel the flutters in your heart going wild. there’s something about the way he looks so gentle like this, away from the cameras and the public eye that makes him so much more alluring than usual.

“i’ll try,” he says, though you know he’s just playing along.

usually, you don’t feel this type of way around people. you’ve never felt like this before so you can’t even think of ways to explain it. as you sit in the passenger seat, you can’t help but feel a certain attachment growing. it makes you think foolish things like i want to see you again and wonder about even sillier things like would you want to see me too?

but you’d never actually tell him that.

when your apartment comes into view, you grab at his cap on the dashboard, putting it on your head yourself this time, looking into the side mirror. “hm, think this looks better on me, what do you think?”

sae’s a little stunned at the sudden question. you have a way of making him exasperated—in all the good ways. “wanna keep it?” he’s guessing that’s where you’re headed. not that he minds. 

“oooh, then maybe i get to sell it for a buttload of money. especially when i tell people it belonged to you,” you smirk, and sae finds himself wondering why your guard is up so high.

he starts driving a little slowly, starting to feel the reluctance brewing inside him. “it’s yours now, do whatever you want with it.” he knows you’re not actually going to sell it anyway. he might not have known you for long, but he thinks you’re not that kind of person.

he’ll bet on it.

you don’t say anymore about it, and he catches you with a blank stare straight ahead, aimed at your apartment.

does it have something to do with your family? was that why you were unhappy earlier?

sae can’t shake the feeling of wanting to know more about you. but you snap back to your usual self before he can do anything about it.

“anyway! don’t worry about tonight, i won’t tell a soul that a superstar like you took a nobody like me out for a romantic supper in a private room,” you tell him, winking as you place your hands on the door handle, ready to go.

sae nearly laughs. “can’t you say thank you like a normal person?” because by now, the both of you are comfortable enough to understand that nothing is ever said in hostility. you take it as his banter.

somehow, your hand finds itself back onto your lap, and the words haven’t left your lips. there’s no music in the car, so it’s just you and sae and the air between you, a tension looming in the air that you can’t ignore. there’s just silence as you observe him from your position, your head inching closer, ever so slowly it feels like you’re not even moving at all. you can see how sae’s gaze flickers from your eyes to the tip of your nose and then to your lips, and you think of how he looks almost like he did that night when you got close to him.

except this time, you’re really tempted. you’re alone, just the both of you, and he’s been really nice and you’re really tempted to feel how soft those lips are and what he tastes like. but that’s too much, and yet somehow his eyes feel like they’re telling you different. would he mind?

your fingers pull the cap down from your head, covering both your faces as there’s barely any space between you now.

maybe just something tame.

in one swift motion, your lips press against his cheek, a hurried thank you rolling off your tongue before you bolt out of the car and back to your apartment, hoping that sae doesn’t think you’re a complete psycho for doing that. 

back in the car, sae freezes in position even after you’ve long vanished from his sight. his heart’s still beating wildly in his chest and he wonders what the hell just happened.

and then he finds himself questioning when it could happen again.

why does he want it to happen again?

before he starts the drive back, he does three things.

one, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and creates that account he forgot about. two, he sends you a follow request because he doesn’t think he can handle this curiosity anymore. and three, he opens your messages, breathing shallow as he tries to make plans for the first time.

an hour later, after you’re showered and your heart has calmed down, you check your phone, charged to full now on your bedside table. there’s a few messages from sumi and eita that you missed since it had been dead since before you left the house, and then your heart skips a beat when you realise that sae’s name is there as well.

for the first time in a long time, you go to bed feeling like a giggly high school girl who’s been asked out by her crush. and for the first time in forever, sae receives your message and finds that he can’t sleep now—wondering why he felt so relieved to finally get a text back, and wondering what this frantic rush of his heart really means. 

extras !

no, sae did not get up late to meet bianca the next day. he did look extremely tired though, which made her suspicious and ask why—sae did not reveal anything, just said he couldn’t sleep. partly true.

sae was right; if he’d asked yn about herself that night (particularly anything pertaining to her family), she wouldn’t have answered seriously. there’s a reason why she won’t so easily divulge her family issues & doesn’t want sae to know about it.

yn genuinely believes that sae did not notice anything off about her and that he honestly thought she was fine.

otoya did end up bringing his date to a hotel. after she fell asleep, otoya went out to the balcony to call yn and make sure she’s okay since she wasn’t responding.

yn’s mother knows that yn and otoya used to fuck (and still thinks they are), and that’s why she used her choice of words “jacking people off”. she has been treating yn like that for the past few years.

random fact #1: otoya used to purposely get yn in trouble all the time in school so that they could spend time in detention together. that’s how they started getting close.

random fact #2: sae has, in his head, considered being together with bianca before because the guys asked him about it.

taglist! @yuzurins @saeskiss @raphsimp @lust4rin @mxplesyrvp @chieeeeeee @yumekolovesyukimiya @kunirayuna39 @auranny @sereniteav @gskill @saesgrl @riseena @rikijbol @sagejin @shironagi

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Perfect Score - Chapter 9 - Thawed Out | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: The finals loom, and you and Aemond have to navigate and come to terms with what the future might look like after | Word Count: 7.9k~ | Warnings under the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: *deep breath* swearing, innuendo, teasing, trauma from a past relationship, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, dirty talk, pussy slapping, fingering, degradation, praise, orgasm denial, cum play, doggy style, choking, spit kink, aftercare

A/N: I don't want to let go of my babies and I can't believe this is the penultimate chapter😭

Sleeping on a bed with no bed sheets felt incredibly silly.

So instead Aemond had dragged his feet to the sofa, where the long-forgotten blanket was and cocooned you both into it on the bed.

Unlike the hotel, where you and Aemond were up all night, not able to keep your hands off each other. Here, in the dim light of your apartment, quiet, with rain tapping at the window, you both basked in the afterglow of the intimacy you gained from just having sex once.

The sex that consummated this relationship.

Which was still something you needed to ask him about.

Helaena had told you as much, he wasn't one for relationships after Alys.

But he told you he loved you.

Surely that was different.

You were both so exhausted, each of you fell asleep in the position Aemond tucked you in as. His arm slung over your waist to your middle, his palm holding one of your breasts in such an overtly non-sexual way, and just as a means of holding.

And like that you stayed, pressed together.

Fucking spooning. Something you never would have imagined you and Aemond doing a few months before.

You almost jumped out of your skin when in the early morning your phone buzzed under the bare pillow, sounding so much louder than usual.

"Seven fucking Hells, that scared the shit out of me"

You heard Aemond rumble low in his chest behind you. His voice was thick with grogginess, but it was clear he'd been awake some time, as his finger continued to trace the skin of your arm like he'd been doing it for hours. Now in an awake state, your skin ripples with goosebumps.

You huff a laugh at him, rub your eyes and pull your phone out, greeted with a text, or rather a whole wall of them, from El. Asking if you're okay given you tried to call her about four or five times in one go.

You smile at the messages, quickly typing a reply and sending it off, the limbs that are exposed to the air prickling with a chill.

"Your mattress…" Aemond starts, his forearm over his eyes when you turn to him, "...is so fucking uncomfortable"

In good comedic timing when you shuffle closer to him you're greeted with a spring in your side and a loud squeak.

"Missing your memory foam, king-size goodness?" You prod, pressing a kiss to his jaw before resting your head on his shoulder.

"Hm" he smiles, all in good fun, tugging you closer with an arm around your waist.

"Hope you don't mind me sleeping over"

You look up at him through your lashes, lips pulling up at the sides at the sight of him, still half naked, hair tousled in loose waves.

"And what was I going to do? Cast you back out onto the streets as soon as you said I love you?"

"Alright, alright. No need to be sarky about it" he smiles, thumbing some hair from your face and behind your ear.

"As if you're not sarky all the time" you smile back.

It feels so nice, beyond actual words, to be with him intimately like this. Just cuddling. Unabashedly together.

Which reminds you to bring it up before you leave for the day.

"How did you know where I live?" You ask.

Aemond flushes a bit, piquing your curiosity as you sit up, pulling the blanket to your chest to cover your nudity.

"Um, I didn't?" He replies, slightly embarrassed, "not specifically anyway"

You cock your head, "you didn't? So how-"

You grin widely, mischief glimmering in your eyes as you see how embarrassed he is.

"Did you knock on stranger's doors? Trying to find me?"

"Shut up" he groans, the flush on his cheeks extending to the tips of his ears as he turns away.

"Aw, Aemond!"

"Don't. It was so fucking embarrassing"

"Don't be embarrassed, it's cute!"

He looks at you again, still flushed but with an unamused expression.

"I'm not cute"

You press your lips together, trying not to smile or laugh.

It almost makes you forget about what happened. Especially when his face softens like that, his eyes half shut looking at you in a way that makes your insides flutter.

Aemond inhales sharply.

"Are you going to tell Rhaenys?" He asks.

He doesn't specify what. But both of you know.

You bite your lip in thought. In truth, you'd been wondering all night if you should.

"No" you say quietly with a slight shake of your head, "No, I…checked the terms of my contract and as much as I hate to say it, Otto is right…

"I have to complete my contract. If I want to get paid and signed again anyway"

Aemond sighs, playing with the ends of your hair.

"Doesn't mean you can't tell her"

"I know but, I just don't see the point" you say, shivering when his touch bristles against your skin, "Truthfully I was even torn about going to anyone with the proof…because I know it wouldn't just hurt Otto, it would-"

You pause, looking down into your lap.

It would hurt Aemond. His siblings. And Alicent as well.

"Hey" he whispers, taking your chin softly in his grasp and turning you to meet his gaze, "We'll be alright"

His concerned look. Softened voice.

You swallow thickly.

Even if you did go to the press. Aemond wouldn't hate you for it.

For some reason that stings a bit more than the other way around.

Still. You can't bring yourself to bring any kind of distress to him or his family, just because of what Otto did.

Even though it has bruised your confidence.

"Come here"

You force a tiny smile to your face, going to lay next to him as his arm lays outstretched. Aemond snakes his arms around your waist, pulling you on top of him, one hand stroking your hair in a motion of tenderness that makes your heart ache.

“Do you really want to quit skating?” you ask carefully.

Aemond sighs, thoughtfully, “I think so. I want to do something different with my life. Go to King's Landing Uni or something...and off my own back as well not just because I'm some bigwig's son”

You can imagine that.

A smile makes its way to your face, imagining Aemond in his classes, perhaps with some reading glasses on, frantically taking notes.

“Why, will you miss me?” he asks, and you can hear the smirk in his tone, without looking at him.

“Maybe” you reply, with the same playful inflection, “I like skating with you”

Aemonds hands drop to cup your waist, just above the curve of your hips. It makes you realise, that both of you are just completely bare, unabashedly, together.

He laughs, “I can still throw you around if you like”

You raise your head, pulling a face at the horrendous joke with eyebrows furrowed. You’re greeted pleasantly though, with the image of Aemond’s eyes crinkling up as he laughs.

Playfully swatting his chest, “You’re foul”

Pulling the sheets around your sides, you pull yourself up to straddle him, hands running over his taut stomach, feeling the familiar pull of lust inside that Aemond seems to feel as well.

With his hands still on your hips, his gaze glances over you, taking in every little bit of skin.

Until he looks down, looking all small again.

“What’s wrong?” you ask carefully, one hand on the side of his face.

He covers yours with his, taking it away from his face to his chest.

“Sorry, it’s just…” he starts, swallowing in between nervously, like he’s having a hard time expressing exactly what he wants to say. You just sit, listening intently. Waiting for him to be ready.

“She was always…you know…on top”

Your lips part in shock, wanting to say something but not knowing what on earth to even pull together in response.

The only thing you can do, is apologise and get off him.

For reminding him how it feels to be small…and manipulated.

“Aemond, I-fuck, I’m sorry-”

“No”

He keeps you there, his fingers curling over your flesh, tugging your core to his length, but his gaze is concentrated on your face, not on any other part of you.

“Stay like this, please…” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, and his Adam's apple bobbing as he tries to swallow over the lump that forms.

“But, Aemond-”

“She’d never let me” he mutters, blinking up at you, “I think it was one of her ways of controlling me…” he glances over your skin reverently, his thumbs tracing your torso, the sensation of his hands gliding over you making you shiver.

“It’s different with you” warmth blooms as he says that, “It could never feel that way with you”

It feels like you’re teetering over the edge when he says that. Tummy fluttering, with adrenaline burning through your veins.

Your eyes drop to your hand that’s flat over his heart, able to feel the thrum of it beating beneath your touch. Gently, as if any sudden movement will startle him, your fingers run down his torso, watching his muscles clench and flex beneath his pale skin.

He doesn’t stop you.

He hardens underneath you, hissing with pleasure when your hand wraps around his cock, pumping him slowly, his neck contracts as desperate whines slip from his mouth.

“Please - don’t tease me, Princess”

You look at him with a mischievous glimmer, his tone igniting something buried deep. Something barely exposed. Fingers tighten around his rapidly hardening length, achingly ready. Shuddered, frantic little breaths spill from his lips.

The amount of trust he is affording you right now, does not go unnoticed.

And as much as you want to tease him though, you cannot find it in yourself to, when he’s being so vulnerable with you.

Later maybe.

“Alright” you smile, now having stroked him to full hardness, his length swollen, aching for fulfillment.

“But only because you asked so nicely”

It was easy to get dressed and get everything together, except for Aemond. Once the morning had passed, your old bedroom hot and humid with sex, Aemond was reduced to wearing his dried and musty smelling clothes he’d been sodden in the previous day.

It was still drizzly outside as you pulled the door shut, having left a note inside for El when she inevitably got back from her Dad’s. But luckily, Aemond had parked his car down the street, so there was no need to walk.

You smile somewhat at the notion that Aemond only had an idea of where you lived. Hastily parked his car and knocked on every single door, just to find your apartment.

There's those flutters again.

Not unlike Aemond, his car is pristine. Spotless inside and out. Not that you expected any less.

If it was any other day, it'd be a normal drive.

But your nerves were higher than they'd ever been before. And Aemond had noticed the incessant bouncing of your leg.

The hand that was previously on the gear stick shifts to your knee, squeezing gently.

"I called Mum. Otto isn't there. And he won't come back, okay?"

You look over, seeing his gaze solely on the road, but his thumb circling the inner part of your leg.

"You sure?..."

He nods, "Course. It's Mum's house, not his"

Point taken.

Your thumbs overlap one another repeatedly, nerves still nibbling at your insides.

“Sorry” you mutter under your breath, “I just don’t want to see him”

Aemond laughs, “You think any of us do?” his hand briefly leaves your knee to change gears, slowing down as the security gate to his house opens with a click.

Seeing the house again, and you hate to say it, but it sets you on edge. It was only yesterday you left, but it seems like a lifetime. And after what happened, it’s like returning to something that won’t be the same, and you won’t know until you’re inside if that’s a good thing or not.

Ping.

Your phone vibrates in your lap.

Was the information suitable? - L.S

Aemond looks over briefly, having heard your phone go off, but his gaze doesn’t linger, letting you tell him if you want to in your own time.

You sigh, thumbs hovering over the screen.

“It’s Larys…” you mumble, swallowing over the lump that forms.

It’s Aemond turn to sigh as he pulls in and pulls up the handbrake.

“Probably wondering why it’s not hit the press yet” he muses, fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

“Why doesn’t he just leak it to the press?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed at Aemond, who returns your question with a shrug.

“I imagine it’s more newsworthy if it doesn’t come from him” he replies, rubbing his temple on the marred side with his fingers, like he has a headache, “It’d cause quite the stir. One of Otto’s employees exposing his wrongdoings…”

Aemond always knows everyone’s ulterior motive, it seems.

You can’t tell if that’s a skill, or a curse. Knowing what everyone is thinking. Being able to guess why a person finds you useful.

You swipe the message away, planning on simply ignoring him.

“You’re not going to reply?” he asks.

“No” you shake your head, “No, I won’t”

Even though Aemond had prepared you in the car, that Otto would most certainly not be inside, nor would ever return, it was still nerve-wracking to step through the doors again and back into the almost clinical feeling of the Targaryen home.

To your surprise though, when you stepped across the threshold, without any screams or cries of relief from Aemond’s family, you felt somewhat calm. You imagine Aemond had pre-warned them to not make such a big deal out of it, and for that, you were extremely grateful.

There were various murmurs from the kitchen, speaking in low voices and obviously unaware of your arrival.

Aemond’s hand on your arm made you jump, you were so distant, the trauma of the day’s past, and what it had all meant, flashed quickly past your eyes.

“We don’t have to practice today, okay?” he said quietly, “do you want a drink?”

You nodded, following him to the kitchen, “I’d also like to talk to your Mum…about everything, if that’s okay”

He seemed confused, but nodded anyway, wondering what it might be you’d want to speak to his Mum about without him.

But he didn’t prod for more information.

In the kitchen, all the children that were home were gathered at the breakfast table, speaking to Alicent in a hushed manner, both Helaena and Aegon’s brows were furrowed. Aegon’s in anger, and Helaena’s with worry. But both softened when their violet, sharp eyes clapped on you in the doorway.

“Gods - you’re back -” Helaena nearly tripped over herself sliding off her stool and making for you, throwing her arms around your neck like she thought you were really, truly gone. It briefly knocks the air out of you, hands hanging in the air. Aemond can’t help but press his lips together, trying not to laugh.

“We missed you” Helaena says with a relieved smile once she pulls away.

“Some of us” Aegon jokes, a smirk pulling at his lips, not revealing his teeth.

You scrunch your nose at him, pulling a face, knowing it’s all in good fun.

Alicent’s sad brown eyes don’t change, as she forces a reassuring smile to her face, “Are you alright?”

You feel Aemond’s hand on the small of your back. Reassuring but at the same time, lighting a fire in your belly.

How does his mere touch do that?

“I’m fine” you say quickly, “I was wondering if we could speak…”

Alicent nods, leaning against the kitchen island.

“...in private”

Quietly, the Targaryen siblings begin to vacate the kitchen. Aemond throws you a small smile, to let you know he is not far if you need him, before being practically dragged out by Helaena, who doesn’t do a very good job of whispering too quietly, ‘did you tell her, did you tell her?’. Only for Aemond to sigh and grumble, ‘Yes, leave me alone’.

Once alone, Alicent slides a mug of tea across the counter to you, which you accept, holding your hands around it, with a smile, looking down at the way the steam ribbons up from the scalding liquid.

“I believe you are owed an apology” Alicent starts.

Shaking your head, “It’s not you who needs to apologise. Not in the slightest”

“In any case” she smiles, like a mother would do, “I apologise”

Alicent inhales deeply, “It is not the first time my father has exercised his power over women” she muses, a mug of coffee in one of her slender fingers, “but I dare say I hope it is the last”

Your fingernails tap on the mug.

“It troubles me, what has been done done to Floris” you start, broaching the subject as carefully as you can, “since I am close to her family I…feel somewhat responsible”

Alicent listens, tucking a stray wavy lock behind her ear, pink lips pressed together.

“Please don’t misunderstand me, I don’t ask this of you, it’s directed at him, but-” you sigh, realising you’re rambling, “-I’d like for him to pay for her medical expenses associated with the accident”

You don’t dare look up at Alicent, knowing how soft, gentle and kind she is, but also fearing she may see you differently.

“In my view, it’s the least he can do, for what happened to her”

“I completely agree” Alicent says quickly, immediately trying to quell any fear of repercussions for asking what you have.

She smiles warmly when you lock eyes, “I do” she reassures once again, her well-manicured nails tapping against her mug, “I’ll call my father tonight. Give him the terms”

You nod, sparing Alicent a small smile, a grateful one.

“Thank you”

After a moment, Alicent sighs sitting down on the stool her daughter was previously propped upon.

“Aemond has expressed he wishes to leave the industry, after the championship” Alicent says, with a layer of sadness to her tone, her deep brown eyes staring as a blank part of the room. As if she is trying, with all her will, not to fall apart.

“I must say I cannot blame him, given all that has happened” she adds, “a small part of me feels terrible, that I might have forced him subconsciously or not into skating, just for him to…come to hate it”

You look down at your mug, knowing she’d see right through you if you lied and said he did enjoy it. Especially when he’d expressed as such in confidence, that he didn’t.

“He’s told me he wants to go to University” Alicent continues.

You breathe relief, that she already knows. That Aemond had already broached this subject.

“Yes, he told me as well”

Alicent smiles at you, warmly.

“I can see you both like each other very much”

Understatement of the year, you think, with a flushed smile.

“Whatever he wants to do, I’ll support” you say, with conviction in your words.

And all his mother has to say in reply is, “thank you”.

The next few days at the Targaryen household were nothing short of strange, in the best way possible.

Without Otto's looming and domineering presence, they seemed much more like the family you saw that evening after the semi-finals. A well-rounded unit.

Happy.

Aegon socialised in the living spaces a lot more, and sometimes watched you and Aemond practise. Though most of the time he'd crinkle his nose at how affectionate his younger brother was being, pretending to gag.

Helaena's relationship with Alicent, previously a little strained, had even improved.

You'd often see them in the kitchen, flicking through the magazine for skating outfits, as Helaena had expressed wanting to enter the Singles competition next year.

It made you happy to see them thrive.

Aegon distancing himself from skating, working on which of his side-hustles he could turn into a proper career.

Helaena pursuing Singles.

And Aemond, though he'd expressed a desire to leave the industry after the final, with the way he approached training now, you'd be mistaken for thinking he loved it.

Larys had tried to email a few more times, wondering why the truth hadn't yet hit the press.

So you blocked him.

And Otto as well. Not like he'd ever try and reach out.

Evenings in the Targaryen household without him were pleasant, almost unbearably so.

Eating at the table was enjoyable.

No tension.

Just laughter and smiles, and Aemond's large hand wrapped over your leg, just above your knee, in a way that never failed to make you squeeze them together.

You'd never wanted someone so incessantly this bad before.

Truthfully, that part sort of daunted you.

To be so overtly, unapologetically sexual with someone, was very new for you. Despite having had conquests, even boyfriends, in the past, nothing felt quite as good as laying down the borders, and unleashing this newly discovered part of you.

Not like Aemomd minded either.

In fact, he certainly didn't.

In the nights since your return, you'd barely stayed in the guest room Alicent originally gave you. Instead, Aemond had invited you into his.

It was largely how you'd imagined it.

Spotless, well-dusted, with various books stacked up, all neat with the spines bended perfectly and uncracked. Noticeably, ordered alphabetically. With various subjects. Philosophy. History. Something he'd expressed interest in when he'd searched King's Landing Uni's Prospectus.

His room felt warm, with earthy tones, and pops of black, much like his clothing.

He explained that although there was a dog bed in his room, Vhagar never came up here anymore.

"Dumb thing can't get up the marble stairs"

Which you'd laughed at.

And then called him 'cute' again when he confessed that sometimes he would carry her, as large and awkward as she was to hold, all the way up to his room when she'd start whining at the bottom of the stairs.

He didn't like being called 'cute'.

But tolerated it.

After training tired you both out, learning the difficult routine for the final, you and Aemond had climbed the staircase groggily and spent more than a few moments in his en-suite.

'Showering'.

It felt wholly intimate, freshly showered, laying in his bed and wearing one of his shirts, which seemed to envelop your body in its entirety to your mid thigh.

Felt nice.

Like a relationship.

It was a bit daunting, in the best way possible.

His bed smelled just like him. His sandalwood aftershave that you were able to catch a whiff of whenever you practised together.

With his pillow tucked under your chin, you smiled at your phone as the messages from El were piling in.

Your eyes flit over to where Aemond is. Standing in front of the mirror in the en-suite. He's pressing a cold cloth to the marred side of his face, where he still sometimes feels a small bit of pain, despite having had his glycerol injections not that long ago.

Before the tour.

He never spoke about his pain. Which was very 'Aemond' of him, you thought.

Fucking bitch. Using that against you.

Your face heats instantly.

"What you smiling about?" Aemond asks, padding over in just his sweatpants, tied at the front, and absolutely nothing else. He slides into his bed next to you with a satisfied groan, hand around your middle to pull you onto your side.

You smile, shooting off a quick message along the lines of 'shut your whore mouth' to El, before turning your head to Aemond, tucking your hips back against his.

"Just talking to El"

His hand squeezes your hip, "Stop. That" he warns, with a deadpan expression.

"What?" You ask innocently, through your eyelashes, trying to bite back a smile.

"Don't you 'what' me. You know exactly what you're doing"

"I have no idea what you're talking about" you smirk, resting your head on the pillow facing the TV.

"Hm" he clicks his tongue in false-annoyance, grabbing the remote. Netflix floods the screen, auto-playing the first thing that comes on, which happens to be Mean Girls. He simply wrinkles his brows and states he's never seen it, trying to ignore the way he's gained a semi-erection merely from the movement of your ass against him.

As the movie progresses, your interest is quickly redirected to your phone, followed by a yawn.

"Am I that boring?" He smirks, his face propped on his palm.

You show him the screen, "been watching some of your Mum's old performances"

He raises an eyebrow, "oh yeah?"

You nod, scrubbing to a particular video, "This one is my favourite. The one where she competed at Highgarden, and she wore green. Pissed the Tyrells right off" you snicker.

Aemond fights the urge to roll his eye, "The Tyrells are a delicate bunch" he muses.

You watch the video of Alicent while Aemond's head moves back to the movie. She was much younger, gracefully owning the ice in her dark green outfit. Looking so happy, so proud of herself.

And it was her last performance.

She was already pregnant by then.

You're struck then with the notion of how similar Alicent and Aegon actually look, with the exception of the colouring, their features are dead on.

Aemond on the other hand, has much sharper features. And a part of you wonders where he gets that from.

Perhaps this elusive sister?

"That is so dumb" Aemond muses.

"What is?"

He scoffs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Netflix recommended this one first cos it's got a scene in it where the main character says 'it's October 3rd'"

You furrow your brows, "And that's dumb why?.."

He gives you an unamused look, clicking on the lock screen of his phone and showing you today's date.

His smirk quirks when he sees how you dissolve into a fit of laughter though. Something in his gaze as he looks down at you, makes you feel as if you're entirely on show, in the nicest possible way.

"What?" You smile with a flushed expression, noticing how he's not looked away.

"Nothing" he shakes his head, "just nice seeing you in my bed"

You tease him, wrinkling your nose, "Don't be so soft, doesn't suit you"

"Oh yeah? What would you prefer then?" He asks, face lighting up into his slightly arrogant, cocky little smirk, his arm tightening over your waist, "for me to be rough?"

You press your lips together and also, unconsciously, your thighs, feeling heat rise from your belly.

But you jut out your chin, trying to hide how warm you suddenly feel.

"I don't think you've got it in you"

His expression manages to change. Instantly from cocky to stoic, serious. His lips flat into a line, eyelids hooded and utterly humourless.

How he usually looked when you first knew him.

You shiver as his hand drops, deft fingers clutching the hem of his own shirt at your thighs and tugs it up until he reaches the hem of your underwear.

He never drops his expression.

He looks almost annoyed. Angry.

So much so you fear that you've actually said something wrong.

"Aemond-"

"Shh.." he interrupts, his other hand hooked around and resting around your neck, pressing the sides, "I'm not in the mood for words"

You gasp as he practically rips your underwear down your legs, not waiting for you to assist him in lifting your hips, he just pulls forcefully until he shucks them off the bed.

The previous prodding warmth in your belly is stoked to a full roaring flame as he reaches up again, dipping between your thighs to cup your pussy in his palm, swiping two digits against your wetness.

It almost makes you jump, pressing your lips together to stifle a moan and your eyes slipping shut as he teases your sensitive bud.

"I'm going to make you regret saying that" he mused, his breath hot against your neck as he continues to tease you, never really dipping beneath your folds to really touch you. Much to your annoyance.

The sound of your slick moving against his fingers has an embarrassed heat rising to your face.

"You see, Princess? How wet you are for me already?" He mutters deeply, "that's your body talking, not your mouth. Just as it should be"

It's so lewd and domineering, the way he speaks, and how easily he can go from 'watching a movie innocent and cuddling in bed' to 'you don't speak until I give you permission'.

You don't know if you've ever been so turned on in your life.

"I don't want to hear a fucking sound from you. Understood?"

Your tummy flutters with anticipation. Like he's dragging you to a place you've never been before.

You nod, no words leaving your lips.

"That's what I fucking thought" your body jolts properly this time, having to sink your teeth into your lip to contain a whine as he gives a firm, hard slap directly to your core.

"Slut" he whispers, "Are you my little slut?"

Your head is empty. Swirling with desire like being in a sauna. All you have the capacity to do is nod to the best of your ability.

"Good girl" he praises, making your stomach roll and breathing hasten.

You desperately tried not to make a single sound as Aemond's digits sank to the hilt inside you, cooking upwards at a new angle with your back against his chest like this. And yet a tiny, miniscule gasp still managed its way past your lips.

If he noticed it, he didn't say anything.

He just started to fuck you with his fingers, quickly, his other fingers tightening around your neck, to watch the hedonistic look on your face.

It was hard to keep quiet.

He dragged his nose over your cheek, making you shiver, "This is mine" he said gruffly, increasing the pace of him pistoning in and out of you.

Not you are mine.

This is mine.

The lewd sounds of your wetness coating his fingers and hand were the only thing you could hear, bar the soft pants of his breath in your ear.

It felt nice to hand over some semblance of control once in a while.

You feel your climax approach embarrassingly quickly, his hand making contact with your clit with every sharp push inside you.

"I can feel you squeezing my fingers - you're going to cum, aren't you -"

Your chest heaves, pleasured tears pricking at your eyes, nodding quickly as he has made it clear that he will not accept a single word or sound from you.

With a displeased grimace, you whine at the loss of contact as he pulls out quickly, robbing you of the impending orgasm loosening the tension in your gut.

"Fucking slut" he grunts, another harsh slap to your pussy jolts you again, sparking pleasured pain through your bud to your core.

You're barely able to bring yourself up from that lull before your body is dragged further down the bed with Aemond's hips on yours. A bolt of arousal burns through you quickly looking up at him on your back, seeing the determined and fixed expression on his face.

"If it gets too much, tell me"

It's brief, his caring nature, but said through such a stoic look still manages to make the ache in your core even stronger.

You nod.

Before anything else, your breath is caught in your chest as his large hands easily wrap around your wrists and push them down to the mattress, either side of your head.

"Keep them there, where I can see them. Don't move"

Completely lost in the feeling of him looming over you like this, his broad shoulders making him from this angle making him feel larger, his muscles hands holding yours down like it's the easiest thing in the world, you completely forget to reply.

"Understood?" He prods, with a low, warning tone.

You nod a few times, swallowing loudly.

"Good"

His hands slide down, taking note that you're doing as he says and keeping your hands beside your head. You hold back a whimper when his large palms cup your breasts, his fingers tugging near-painfully at the flesh, in an action that only makes your nipples harden to his touch.

Your eyes rake over him, now glazed with lust, pupils blown wide. His form is an absolute marvel to look at, lithe, slender at his middle and a soft sheen on his pecs as he moves in the low light. His bedroom only lit by one warm bedside lamp.

He looks so good.

And your tummy flutters with delight, that's he's all yours.

And you're all his.

In this light, the scar that runs down the side of his left side is even softer, calm and flattened since he'd taken care to ease the redness of it beforehand.

He only has a small smattering of hair on his chest, the rest of it underneath his naval, leading temptingly down past the waistline of his sweatpants, darker than the rest of his hair only slightly.

It makes your mouth water.

He doesn't take his shirt off you.

And there's something so dirty and possessive about him fucking you only wearing his shirt.

Like he wants to see you fall apart with nothing but him around you.

Your heartbeat hums through you. Your core aching with desperation for his attention, clit now feeling utterly abandoned, you can't help but move your hips for any contact, even if it doesn't do anything to quell the need.

His hands come to his sweatpants, thumbing them over his hips, "I want to hear you, princess"

Eyes wide with panic, you look over at the closed door just to check.

Aemond beats you to it.

"Door's locked. Hel and Mum are out. Aeg is downstairs"

You're not sure if that relieves you or not.

"I want this to last. And if you do, then you'll do what I say" he nods, one eyebrow raised, questioning you.

So you nod, a blush creeping up to your cheeks from your neck. All prickly and hot, making your skin all over feel sensitive.

You don't know if you'll ever get over the feeling that overcomes you when you see Aemond naked. You'd seen him entirely naked for the first time at the hotel, where you were forced to share a room.

You remember thinking then that it's a crime he has to wear clothes. He looks so good with them off. He is almost statuesque, as if carved from stone with wiry muscle lingering beneath his pale skin.

Now seeing him, your heart flutters faster seeing where the trail of his darkened hair now leads to. Framing the base of his cock, where his thick and long length, hardened and swollen after teasing you, stands proudly with the tip nearly prodding at his navel.

If you'd been allowed to speak, you still would have been speechless.

His knee knocks against yours softly, wordlessly demanding your legs to widen, so he can see your dripping pussy presented before him.

You almost whine in impatience when Aemond strokes himself, not needing to, but smirking down at you and watching the way your eyes never leave him.

Teasing you on purpose.

It makes you want to touch him, knowing you can't.

"You gonna be good for me?" He asks, his voice dropping an octave lower.

Sucking in a breath, you nod, blinking up at him.

Hands finding your bare hips, he chuckles darkly, gaze trained down on you, "you just want me to use you, don't you, princess?"

You observe the way his eye almost glimmers when he says that. The air becomes thick the closer his naked body gets to yours, it's almost suffocating.

"Go on. Say it"

You swallow, suddenly thinking you don't know how to speak. And your voice comes out shaky.

"Yes - yes, I want you to use me -"

You feel a bit embarrassed saying it, but when he taps his swollen cockhead, leaking with arousal against your slick pussy, it's the last thing on your mind.

Your eyes flit down to where he's holding his length, the veins that lay thick on his skin leading from his wrist up to his forearm-

"Yes, what"

What.

Meeting his smug gaze, he can see the shocked expression on your face. Your heart hammers so quickly in your chest, it's like he can hear it.

Fuck.

He'd seen El's message.

There's no inhibitions, just him.

"Yes - daddy - I want you to use me -"

If Aemond could cum from those words alone, he would.

But for the sake of not feeling cruel, and robbing you of an orgasm, he holds back and simply smirks. Not able to hide the ego boost it gives him, with the tip of one side of his lips.

Without another word, he teases his cockhead through your folds only once, not even giving you time to contemplate he might tease you even more, before leaning forward and spearing you onto his cock, sinking fully inside you in one, surprisingly quick motion.

It catches you off guard, the sudden stretch, the sensation of being filled so quickly. Aemond's fingers dig into your hips, as if for dear life, and pulls you to him, as if there's any way you could be closer.

Aemond simply grunts, " - fuck, baby, you're so tight around my cock - you like being filled like that? - open your eyes for me -"

You do, with effort, as he says, rewarded by the way he looks so happy with himself, sank to the hilt inside of you like that.

“Keep them on me, princess. I don’t like asking twice”

Excitement has you tightening around him again, a fire burning bright in your belly at this dynamic. Sure, there’d been previous partners. They’d done similar things, talked dirty, tried to be overtly dominant in bed. But it always felt forced. And yes, you played it up, tried to take some enjoyment out of it.

But this was completely natural. And it was thrilling.

Barely giving you enough time to adjust to his size, making good on his word, Aemond pulls all the way out, his gaze looking between you to watch how you coat his dick in arousal and pushes all the way back in with a harsh smack. And then another.

Your moans come out almost strained at the pace Aemond sets, each one punctuated with a low grunt, the large expanse of his hands grasping tightly at your hips for leverage to fuck himself into you quickly.

It makes your head feel like it’s full of water, unable to think.

The sensation of his thick length stretching your walls makes you briefly forget, and your hands drag up his forearms and grip tightly.

“No” Aemond grunts, his hands leaving your hips to pin your wrists back to the bed, pressing hard as he continues the relentless snapping of his hips, “Don’t touch - I’m the one who gets to you touch you - that’s it -”

You don’t mean to.

You really don’t mean to.

But you whine at the demand, wanting nothing more than to touch him, feel him.

And there’s that expression again.

"Fucking brat - rolling your eyes at me -" he gruffs, pulling out of you swiftly and flipping you over onto your front, barely giving you time to think. Pain blooms on your ass as Aemond's palm makes contact with it, your core throbbing with want again now that he's not inside you anymore.

"Aemond-"

"Did I say you could talk?" He barks back in a commanding voice, making your lips press together again. You feel his cock heavy on the curve of your ass as he leans over you, one hand under you to prop you up onto your knees with your legs still squeezed together.

"Forgetful as well?" He asks, his other hand snaking around your neck to lift your face to him, "I don't think that's what you called me earlier, was it? - Open -"

His fingers grip your face hard, prompting you, and with a flushed face you obey, parting your lips and moaning low when you feel him spit directly onto your waiting tongue. It sends a bolt of humiliation through you that throbs right where you need him most, where he's so close.

You swallow without being prompted.

"See, so you can be good for me" he muses, a smirk playing on his lips as he shoves your head down into the pillows, leaning back to admire the colour he's made on your ass cheeks in the shape of his hand.

You're thankful for the pillows as he plunges back into you again, muffling your choked moan into the fabric, the angle making it all feel so much deeper than before. Sure, he'd fucked you in the dressing room bent over the vanity. But with your legs pressed together and your spine curved upwards, Aemond hits that sweet spot inside you with infuriating accuracy.

"Fuck - can't believe we've not fucked in my bed before - I'm tempted to keep you here, just like this -"

You can't help but moan at his words, as loud as you will allow yourself to with Aegon still lurking somewhere in the house. You have to admit, the memory foam comes in handy, you can barely hear anything but the slap of moist skin hitting each other and Aemond's low groans of pleasure.

Your gut tightens dramatically, ready to burst at any time. Pressing your lips together, with hands fisting the bedsheets, you try to move your hips in accordance with his, craving extra friction where you can.

Slap.

"Such a needy slut - making such a mess on me -" his gaze is trapped to when you are joined, his hips making your ass ripple with every harsh thrust. Watching in pure adoration as your arousal makes a creamy ring at the base of his cock.

"Just my little fucktoy aren't you, princess - fuck - I can feel you squeezing me, baby -" he speaks like he's struggling to hold breath, constantly using his energy to push back inside you over and over.

"Say it, baby - come on -"

" - mm, fuck I'm gonna cum - please, daddy, I need it -"

It falls from your lips so naturally, not able to handle another denial to hit your peak, mind clouded with desire and need the more his fat cockhead bullies your g-spot.

Aemond's hips become sloppy, clearly arriving at the precipice himself, though he'd hate to see how badly he's losing control right now.

" - ah, fuck - princess -"

You swear your vision blurs for a good few seconds as your orgasm harder than you swear you have in your life, warmth flooding your lips, sending shockwaves straight to your bud. It's so intense, you're not even able to make a sound, just completely overwhelmed as Aemond continues to pound into you.

" fuck-"

You gasp at the loss of him, moaning breathily when you feel warm ropes of cum on your backside, painting your skin with his creamy spend.

The only sound he makes, is a strained whine that lasts a few seconds, but it's the prettiest sound you've ever heard.

Your body feels almost oversensitive, as Aemond drags his cock back down over your ass, painting a line with what remains and slowly pushes one more time into you with a lewd, wet sound, smearing his cum over your bud before he does. He's softened slightly since, but the stretch still makes you whimper, your core feeling utterly used and overstimulated.

He regains his breath for a moment once he pulls out, the mattress rising as he gets off it. Your eyelashes flutter against the pillow, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart and the trembling aftershocks of your orgasm still ringing through you.

So it makes you jolt when you feel a warm washcloth on you.

"Sorry.." he whispers in a softened voice, continuing until he feels you are entirely clean, before sinking beneath the bedsheets and covering you with them.

Aemond quickly falls back into his normal self, the usual caring, soft and loving person you’ve grown to love. Your heavy eyes open to look up at him, laying beside you in bed, his hand stroking your hair and tucking a wayward strand behind your ear.

You smile at the flush on his pale cheeks.

“Too much?” he asks, a flash of insecurity passing his face.

You shake your head quickly, “No, not at all” you answer softly, pressing a kiss to the cleft of his nose to reassure him, “If it was I would have said”

Feeling a little better, he spares an embarrassed smile that warms your heart, looking down at your intertwined fingers.

“So” he speaks after a beat, biting back a grin when your eyes meet again, “daddy, huh?”

You screw up your face, “Shut up” your voice muffled by your hand over your face, trying to hide your burning cheeks. Aemond simply laughs, pressing a surprisingly chaste kiss to your forehead.

He teases you about it for the rest of the evening.

That is until you clamber atop him later on, and show him that two can play at that game.

He can’t deny it though, he loves that too.

Shockingly, you and Aemond manage to part from his bed every now and then to actually practise the routine.

The routine was perfected, and you’d begrudgingly received the agenda from Otto’s email address about what your outfits would be.

Aemond, as usual, was going to wear black.

You expected to wear white, as you always had. But for some reason, black had also been chosen for you as well. You recall Aemond raising his eyebrow at it, thinking it odd.

Your nose wrinkles with disgust at the thought of wearing something Otto has told you to wear.

But you supposed you had no choice.

For the past few days, in between practice, you’d spend the majority of time in Helaena’s room, making good use of her sewing machine. With the finals looming, your heart barely slowed down, your leg barely unable to cease its twitching with the nerves. Fixing the hems of the garments so they fell in the right spot was a good way to distract yourself, you mused.

“Busy?”

You look up over the machine. Aegon leans against the doorway, a toothy grin on his face as his eyes flit down to the fabric you have on your lap, raising an amused eyebrow.

“Extremely” you reply, pressing on the pedal again.

“Didn’t know you were so skilled at sewing” he says teasingly, taking a few steps into the room.

“I have many talents, Aegon”

“So I’ve heard. Multiple times”

Your cheeks burn, averting your eyes to the project laid in front of you.

Fuck.

Aegon chuckles, “It’s alright. I was worse with the girls I had over. Only fair that my little bro has a turn”

You shook Aegon a warning glance, biting back a smile.

“You know it was pretty gratifying, seeing Otto get knocked down a few pegs” he mutters, “funny as well”

Laughing through your nose, you snip the fabric with some scissors.

“Thank you”

Now that’s the last thing you thought you’d hear from Aegon.

“For what?”

He shrugs, seemingly embarrassed by how vulnerable he’s being. So Aemond and Aegon do share traits.

“Sticking up for Mum” he continues, “and all of us”

This time, it’s impossible to hold back the smile, “The best is yet to come in regards to that”

Aegon narrows his eyes, suspiciously, but smirking at the same time. Amused.

“I’m glad you and Aemond are doing what you want” you add, “and Hel. But that’s your guys’ achievements, not mine”

Aegon rolls his eyes, faking a gag, “Fucking softie”

But he does give you one last, grateful smile as he leaves, his eyes once again dropping to the fabric in your lap, eyes glimmering with mischief.

Ping.

And you know then you’ve made the right choice.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard | @bellstwd | @blairfox04 | @hb8301 | @jamespotterismydaddy | @mochi-rose | @nenelysian | @natty2017 | @randomdragonfires | @risefallrise | @theoneeyedprince | @thelittleswanao3 | @tsujifreya | @urmomsgirlfriend1 | @valeskafics | @watercolorskyy

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep | @boofy1998

[webco-dawnn]

Winter Hc!!

~ Here are just some fun hcs about what I think the Haikyuu boys would do with you during the winter. This post isn't categorized into teams unlike my other posts, but instead just a jumble of headcanons, so I hope you enjoy! (this includes Kenma Kozume, Osamu Miya, Tsukishima Kei, Bokuto Kotarou, Oikawa Tooru.)

꒰ ୨ ୧ ◞ 。Kenma⠀.ᐟ 🐈

╭ ; Kenma normally isn't one to go out. So, now with winter rolling in, it actually gives him an excuse not to go outside without the nagging voice of his friends telling him he could be using his valuable time practicing or that he needs some sun since he is pretty pale, afterall. Though he'd probably just stay in his room all day, buried under many blankets and wearing a bunch of layered clothing to warm him up.

When you come over, he doesn't really react. He greets you with a, "hey," flashing a gentle smile before focusing back on his game. You sit down next to him, and that's when he folds. He leans over, laying his head on your shoulder or your chest, eyes glued to the screen in front of him. If you comment on how close he's gotten he'll just say, "it's cold. You're warm. Use your brain." Though his tone held no actual bite of aggression in it.

He'll let you look over his shoulder to watch him play and eventually inch closer to you as the day goes on, until he's fully in your lap, your arms around his waist. There hasn't been a single word uttered ever since Kenma told you you were warm, but it was nice. It was a comfortable silence between the two of you that never got old. Well, silent except for the music and sound effects coming from the Nintendo held between Kenma's hands.

꒰ ୨ ୧ ◞ 。Osamu⠀.ᐟ 🍙

╭ ; You beg to come over to his house, claiming it's "too cold" in yours. Osamu tries to discourage you by telling you that his annoying twin, Atsumu, will be there as well since he has no plans today, or the fact that Osamu hasn't taken a shower yet or done his laundry. He was only trying to discourage you from coming over because.. well, Atsumu was home.. he didn't want his twin brother to see how different he was in front of his significant other. But after some more begging, you finally convince your beloved boyfriend to let you come over.

When you arrive, Osamu's already got hot chocolate made for you, handing it to you after you take your shoes off. Osamu makes some good hot chocolate, which is also another reason why you wanted to come over today. After you've finished the hot drink, he asks if you want to bake cookies with him. He has enough ingredients and a shit ton of free time, so why not?

In the process, you both get flour on your faces and in your hair, cookie dough all over your hands, and stains on both yours and Osamu's cheeks from the handful of chocolate chips you two ate.

꒰ ୨ ୧ ◞ 。Tsukishima⠀.ᐟ 🍋

╭ ; You wake up to a text from Tsukishima, telling you to be ready by 11 AM with no other information. It definitely confused you, but you're used to it since Tsukishima always texted you random things like this with no other information provided.

At 11, he picks you up and, surprise, he brought you two to an ice skating rink. You had been ranting about wanting to go for a while but not wanting to go alone, so Tsukishima took this as his cue to take you ice skating.

On the rink, Tsukishima is definitely a different person. Unlike you with your carefully calculated moves, perfect, careful, precise, Tsukishima is a wobbling mess. He has an iron grip on your bicep, not even daring to separate from you for a minute. He wasn't good at ice skating at all..

Anytime you'd laugh, he'd look up at you, saying, "It's not funny." but you couldn't really take him seriously with just how cute he looked with his red cheeks and nose.

꒰ ୨ ୧ ◞ 。Bokuto⠀.ᐟ 🦉

╭ ; The energetic owl shows up at your door at about noon, a box in his hand. You obviously let the boy in, watching as he took off his shoes before quickly walking over to the kitchen counter and setting the box down. Before you could even question anything, why he's here, (not that you're complaining, just curious) what the box was, you then read the front of the box and figured out that Bokuto was here with the intention of making a gingerbread house with you.

And so the two of you spent the rest of the afternoon making the gingerbread house. The contruction part of it ended about an hour ago, but you two were still working on the decorations of the house. It didn't look the best.. but it was fun. Talking to Bokuto while making the dessert was more than enough of a perfect day for you.

It was about 2 PM when you two finally finished, two hours after you guys had started. You look over to see Bokuto with icing all over his hands, and even some in his hair, along with small candies sticking to his fingers due to the icing. It made you chuckle. You wouldn't trade this for the world.

꒰ ୨ ୧ ◞ 。Oikawa⠀.ᐟ 🌀

╭ ; You weren't surprised when you opened your phone to 12 unread messages from Oikawa, begging you to come over to his house since he was just "So cold without you." You sigh, slipping your phone back into your pocket. You felt no real annoyance toward the boy, you could never feel annoyed with him. You get ready to go to his house before he starts whining even more.

When you get there, Oikawa's face immediately lights up with a wide smile, pulling you close and kissing you all over your face. Many, many kisses littered on your lips and cheeks. After he finished attacking you with his love, he allowed you to come inside. He told you how his parents weren't home before suggesting to rewatch a movie he loved, one you've watched with him about 10 times now. You agreed, but he suddenly changed his mind and suddenly started making tons of snacks.

after 20 minutes, you two finally settle down on the couch, Oikawa's head lying in your lap with a blanket over top of him and on top of your lap. An array of snacks lay on the table as the movie started.

[creamsickle-writes]

Doctor's Orders: Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Tags: nsfw, role-playing, innocence play/ddlg (no use of Daddy, but similar dynamic?), doctor/patient roleplay, penetrative sex, oral sex, fingering, light degradation, and overstim

Law was pretty fickle when it came to sex.

Sometimes he would tease you, suggesting intimate time alone as his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. On other days, you would mess with him relentlessly, using dirty words and well-timed touches to get your way. 

Sometimes he would cave.

Sometimes he wouldn't.

This inconsistency was rather irritating at times.

It had been some time since you last had sex, and your urges were starting to get the better of you. You let out a loud sigh, hoping Law would put down his book for the night, but he didn't even shuffle. 

You pause before letting out another dramatic sigh, flopping on your back as you lay on his bed, looking over at him as he sat at his desk. You puffed your cheeks out; okay, so you would have to be more direct.

You rise from the bed and waltz over to your boyfriend.

"Lawww…." You draw out, leaning over his shoulder as he reads the umpteenth thick medical book of the evening, "I'm bored; let's do something!"

Your stiff, stoic boyfriend doesn't budge an inch or even turn to look your way. He only grumbles something under his breath before going silent again. You aren't satisfied with that response, so you poke his cheek as you angle yourself over his seated form.

And when that doesn't get you a response, you keep poking and prodding his face until he lets out a frustrated sound.

"I'm busy right now. Go entertain yourself." He shoos you off, but you only lean in further, your chin resting on his head as you wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind.

"But Lawwwww-"

Law groans in annoyance and refuses to take his eyes off his book, "You're so damn irritating. Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Mmn," you pout your lips, "Not right now, no."

He scowls but refuses to close the book, his dark eyes raking through long paragraphs of text accompanied by technical images of the body. 

The content of his book reminds you of something that always catches his interest.

"Mister Doctor…"

You feel him stiffen up under your touch; those magic words that always yielded the result you wanted were about to work their magic.

"Don't start. I'm busy-"

"C'mon, let's play doctor together again…" you purr, your hands dipping lower as they run down his chest. You move your head so your lips are next to her ear, "That could be fun, right? You love when I act all cute when we play… And it's been so long-"

"It's only been a week-" He groans again, but this time it's not just pure annoyance; underlying arousal is also hidden in that sound, "You're insatiable."

Your lips curl into a smile as you know it'll only take one more tiny push.

"C'mon, please?" You beg so sweetly, pitching your voice slightly as you whine, "My body feels weird. I need a doctor to look at it…"

There's a long pause before he speaks.

"Well, if you're actually feeling unwell, then I could take a look…"

You unwrap your arms from his body, taking a few steps back as he rises from his chair. When he turns to face you, his deep dark eyes stare straight through you. He knows you're full of shit and perfectly healthy, but he'd rather pretend he's concerned instead of admitting that he was getting aroused from the mental image you put in his head. After all, he knew perfectly well how this scenario would play out.

"Get on the bed," he starts, "Sit on the edge."

You hop up on his bed, sitting straight with your hands on your lap. He picks up his wooden chair from his desk and positions it in front of you, the chair's legs parallel to the bed now. He sits in it, leaning back slightly as he looks you over.

"So, what's wrong with you this time, huh?"

He looks down at you, his face unchanging. He's hard to read, what with that stoic expression he always wears, but you can see the faintest bit of a blush on his cheeks.

"Oh, it's awful," you draw out, letting out an exaggerated sigh, "Between my legs, it feels strange…"

He hums before looking you over, "I'll need more information than that… You might need to strip down for me so I can examine the area completely…"

"Yes, Doctor…" you smirk before lifting your dress over your head and removing your panties. Law hums in approval as you sit completely nude before him. His eyes rake over your body, and you can see the lust in them despite his controlled expression.

"Lay back and relax. The exam will be over before you know it..." 

You obey his orders and lay back in the bed, your legs dangling off the edge, "Is it gonna hurt?"

Law spreads your thighs before instructing you to prop your feet on the bed, making your legs bend at the knee. Your sensitive areas are now on display for him, and you're shaking slightly, eager for him to just start touching you. You crane your neck to look at him. To the average observer, his face is cold, calculating, and unbothered, but, as his partner, you recognize the look in his eyes.

He wants to break you and see you come undone by his fingers alone.

"It depends… Has anyone ever touched you here?" He asks gently, his fingers brushing over your slit slowly. 

You shake your head immediately, and he clicks his tongue," I see. Then yes, it might just hurt…"

You play the part of the innocent, blushing girl he loves so desperately.

"Mister Doctor… please be as gentle as possible!"

He hums softly before his fingers trace over your already wet slit. His brows furrow in mock concentration, his calloused fingers spreading your lips slightly.

"Do you know where exactly it feels off? Is it here..?" He inquires, running his fingers over your swollen vaginal lips. 

You shake your head, "Nuh uh, it feels weird here…"

You take his hand and guide his fingertips to your clit. His deep eyes flicker toward your face, his face like stone, "Do you know what that's called?"

"No, Mister Doctor…" you say, turning up the charm and innocence, "Could you teach me?"

"That's your clitoris…" he explains plainly, "But you can also call it a clit…"

Your hair stands on end as his fingers hover over your nub; he had only briefly touched it for a moment when you guided his fingers there, but he quickly retracted his digits, teasing you. He wanted to deny you of touch for as long as possible.

"And here…" his fingers move south from your clit to your entrance, his fingers circling the rim, "This is the vaginal opening… and yours seems very wet right now…"

"I-It keeps getting wet, Doctor…" you say meekly, "I don't know why…"

"Can you tell me when it gets wet?" He prods verbally, pulling his hand away, "Does it happen when you do anything specific?"

“It happens when… I think about you, Doctor…”

His cheeks flush darker, and he lowers his hat, obstructing his eyes, "Well, that's no good…"

"What?" You sit up, propping yourself up with your arms, "What is it, Mister Doctor?"

Law shakes his head, looking up at you with a deadly serious expression, "You might need some special treatment to get rid of this. It's not a permanent solution, but it'll help…"

You giggle to yourself; he always took role-playing so seriously. It was super cute.

"What's the treatment?" You tilt your head innocently.

Law leans forward again, his hands resting on your shins, "I'll have to give you a few orgasms. That should hold you over until your next visit…"

"An orgasm?"

He blushes even further at your pretend innocence as he gets up from the chair, moving it away from the bed, "Don't tell me you don't know that word either…"

You shake your head, and he clicks his tongue, his figure towering over you, "Okay, let me ask this then: when it gets wet, do you ever touch down there?"

"Sometimes…" you shyly admit, "It feels good when I touch my clit…"

"Well, when that good feeling reaches its peak, that's an orgasm…"

You nod, acting like you've been taught a new word and concept. You're surprised when Law sinks to his knees, 'examining' you even closer now. You can feel his hot breath fanning over your clit. You bite your lip as he gets even closer.

"You'll have to give me your explicit consent before I begin the treatment, though… tell me you want me to treat you…"

Your heart rate spikes as he says those words, "Please, help me, Doctor!"

His lips pull into a tight smile, "Of course…"

You gasp as he finally touches your clit, his rough fingers rubbing slow, lazy circles into the nub. You inhale as he leans in even closer, his dark brown eyes glancing up at your face before looking back down at your pussy, "Oh, this looks bad… I'll have to keep you in my office for quite a while…"

You bite your lip as he applies a bit more pressure with his fingers, the circles growing tighter. Your thighs quiver, and he strokes one of them with his free hand as if soothing you. You watch with a tight chest as he angles his fingers so they're prodding at your entrance. Slowly, he sinks his middle and ring finger within your heat, curling them upwards. You moan softly as he rubs his finger pads against the swollen spot. You squirm a bit under the direct stimulation.

He hums, "You're so sensitive. You've never played with this place before?"

You shake your head, "N-No, Mister Doctor…"

He chuckles lowly, "How cute…"

He looks at you intently, his fingers beginning to move a bit faster as he strokes your g-spot. You try to look at him, to maintain eye contact, but it's far too embarrassing. You avert your eyes, and he smirks.

"What's wrong?" 

"I-I feel really embarrassed-" you stutter out, "It feels weird-"

He hums thoughtfully, beginning to rub your clit with his thumb as he strokes your inner walls, "You don't have to be ashamed. I'm a doctor; it's my job to help patients feel better…"

You whine as he removes his fingers and jolt once he dives in, his wet tongue lapping at your swollen nub. Your body jumps in surprise and pleasure before it melts into the mattress, your head tossed back onto the sheets. He moans into your cunt, his tongue swirling and drooling all over your slit.

"M-Mister-" you gasp sharply, "D-Don't lick there. T-That's-"

Law stops a moment, "I know what I'm doing. Just be a good girl and let it happen…"

You moan loudly as he resumes his pace, licking and sucking and lapping at your pussy. Law would never admit it to your face, but he loved eating you out. And when you whined and begged for him to stop when you played this role, that turned him on the most.

He holds your thighs down as you squirm and buck your hips desperately. He's relentless, sucking on your clit like a hard candy. He continues to assault your clit with his tongue for eons before your pleasure begins to bubble over.

"A-Ah," you gasp, "Oh, it's coming-!"

Law only hums in acknowledgment as he keeps up his pace, neither sucking harder nor softer as he brings you over the edge. Your legs can only vibrate so much as Law holds you down, moaning eagerly into your cunt as he tastes your juices. 

He pulls away and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, "How are your symptoms? Do you feel any better?"

You struggled to speak as you caught your breath, "I feel… a bit better but… now my um, hole, feels empty…"

He chuckles, a smile tugging at his lips as he removes his hat, "Mm, I think I know the cure for that too…"

You readjust yourself on the bed so that Law can climb onto it as well. But before he joins you, he strips down, clad only in his boxers. You bite your lip as you look over his tattooed, tanned body.

"The cure?" You parrot as he crawls into bed, his body hovering over your own.

"Yeah," he says lowly, "I've got a special tool that should fit nicely in there… it'll make you feel all better…"

You watch as he slides out of his black underwear, his cock standing proudly over your cunt. You gasp and look at it wide-eyed, "Oh, but it's so big…"

There's a short pause before Law murmurs, "Turn around… if you don't watch it go in, you won't anticipate the pain; just like a shot…"

You almost snort at his disguised request to take you from behind, but instead, you nod and complete the task, propping yourself on your hands and knees. You push your face into the bed and reach back to spread your ass for him, revealing your dripping pussy. His heart almost stops in his chest at the sight.

"Okay," You sigh, "I'm ready, Mister Doctor…"

He grabs the base of his cock and slides it over your slit, collecting the slick from your hole before pushing in slowly. You moan as his cock stretches you, his length changing the shape of your walls.

"Fuck," he says shakily under his breath as he finally bottoms out, his pelvis pressed flush against your ass. Your eyes flutter shut as you grip the sheets, your cheek resting against the soft covers. Your body feels whole now that he's resting within you, and your pussy eagerly clamps down on him.

"So tight…" Law grumbles, slowly moving his hips in and out. 

"I-Is that a bad thing, Doctor?"

He shakes his head, "N-No, it's normal… don't worry, after we treat this problem, you'll be perfectly healthy-"

His hips pick up the pace, thrusting in and out at a steady rhythm. You whimper and whine as his cock rubs against your g-spot perfectly, each thrust feeling like heaven. You whimper and whine the whole time, and to your surprise, so does Law.

He's unusually vocal tonight, grunting and huffing as he pounds away. He's needy, too, grabbing at your ass and slamming your hips against him to meet his thrusts. You want to tease him, but you're no better, grabbing at the sheets and moaning brokenly.

But you push him, speaking like that innocent character he loves.

"D-Doctor-" You shakily moan, "I-Is this- ah- really alright to do?"

"Trust me. You need this to feel better." He groans, "You trust me, don't you?"

"Y-Yes-"

"Good," He grunts, fucking into you even harder, his hips' movements growing frantic, "That's a good girl."

He leans forward, wrapping his arms around you and holding your breasts as he pumps in and out of you, his breath hot on your neck, "You're so trusting, so sweet... so naive and dumb. "

Your eyes roll back as he rams himself deep inside, his balls brushing against your lips with each thrust, "You need me to tell you what to do and how to do it, don't you? You don't know a damn thing-"

He punctuates his last few words with particularly brutal thrusts, his voice deep and gravelly in your ear.

"L-Law-" You whimper.

"Call me Doctor. Or Mister." He laughs slightly, his breath labored, "Or that combination of both you just love to tease me with-"

His tattooed fingers twist and pull at your nipples, and you sob out for him. 

"D-Doctor-" It comes out a bit too loud, but you don't care if anyone else on the ship hears, "I-It's coming! I-I'm-!"

You squeal as your juices soak his cock. Your legs buckle under your weight, but Law grabs your hips, holding your body up as he fucks you through it. 

Eventually, he pulls out, your cum connecting his tip to you. You're about to break character and laugh at him for going ballistic, but you can tell he's not done with you just yet when he flips you onto your side.

"W-What are you doing now, Doctor?"

He positions himself behind you, laying on his side and burying his face into your neck, "Two orgasms won't be enough. You'll need more than that before I'll let you go."

You gasp as he jerks his cock against your folds before roughly pushing in, his cock hitting places deep inside. You reach back, tugging at his hair. As he removes his lips from your shoulder, you turn your head to look at him before taking his lips with yours. 

Time melts into one big puddle as he pistons in and out of you. His breath is shaky as he murmurs things like "good girl" and "so perfect for me" against your lips. Between rounds of brutal thrusts, he would pull out and rub your clit, his fingers occasionally dipping inside you to assault your g-spot. 

You lost track of how many times you came and how many times your orgasms squirted onto the sheets, but Law didn't seem to care. He wanted to overstimulate you until you couldn't go anymore.

Eventually, as your body grows tired and sore, Law whispers in your ear, "Good girl. You took the treatment so well, but there's one last thing we need to do..."

You look up at him as he hovers over your body, you two long since abandoning the position where you laid on your sides. 

"What's the last step, Doctor...?"

Law positions himself above you, his cock above your lips as you lay your head on the pillows.

He yanks your hair back with one hand and uses his other to hold his dick, pressing his swollen, cum-covered head to your lips, "Take your medicine like a good girl."

You blush darkly and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out as he jerks his cock over your tongue. You watch his bicep flex as he pumps his cock, his chest rising and falling as he approaches the edge.

"That's it, you're a natural..." He grunts softly, and soon, you feel a rope, and then another, decorate your tongue. His face contorts wonderfully, and you keep your tongue still, not retreating until he's shot all of his sticky seed all over your face.

You swallow it, licking your lips proudly to show you've consumed it all.

Law collapses next to you, a thin layer of sweat resting atop his features. You want to cuddle him, but he looks like he's still trying to recover. Instead, you prop yourself up on your elbow and look at him, a brow raised and a smirk on your lips.

"So, Mister Doctor," You giggle, "I see you were very into your role today."

Law huffs and looks at you, his brows furrowed and his lips contorted into a frown. Though, you notice the dark flush on his face, "Shut up, or I won't hold you."

"You wouldn't."

Silence lingers in the air, and for a moment, it seems like neither of you will budge until: "Fine. Just come over here."

You perk up and immediately dive in for a hug, pressing your lips against his cheek.

And at that, you see Law's lips curl into a smile.

[bangtanficsforyou]

Hello, Love! (JJK)- 03

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, probable smut (we don’t know yet lololol)

Rating: 18+

Summary: You had a plan when you returned home, seven years later. However, falling in love with your sister’s fiance wasn’t it.

Word count: 6.2K

Warning: for this chapter; there's some heavy mentions of drugs. Except, for that, there's so much happening 😩.

Fun fact: the picture in the middle is actually a screenshot of a scene from the movie this series is based upon 🤭

Series Masterlist

“Any update?”

“Sir, we haven’t heard anything back yet.”

Jungkook sighs, having expected that answer. “Keep trying to contact them, and as soon as you hear anything back from them, let me know.”

He emphasizes the word anything because at this point, he genuinely believes rejection would be better than being kept hanging. At least, a rejection would help him have a practical understanding of the scenario and remaining options.

“And how are the preparations for the party going?”

“Sir, we have arranged most of the things, if you like you can pay us a visit and inspect things yourself,” his manager replies.

“Yeah, maybe after my meeting with Mr. Han, I’ll drop by at the hotel,” Jungkook nods to himself, thinking that, that will be the ideal way to go about things. “Remember, everything should be perfect. If everything goes as planned, I’m sure Riya will be impressed.”

“Don’t worry sir, we will look after it.”

You wake up to the sound of your alarm.  

You look around, taking in the room, and notice the soft blankets that are currently wrapped around you. For a moment, your mind feels blurry, having no recollection of last night whatsoever. However, once the memories come back to you, you relax into the soft mattress and sigh at the comfort.

Your eyes start drifting again and you feel this weird sense of giddiness at the thought of having slept so comfortably after ages. Unfortunately, you are stopped from going back to the world of dreams by a constant dribbling of a ball against the floor.

You frown and raise your head slightly to figure out what is causing the noise. From the slight space that the open door leaves, you see a young kid playing with a small ball.

The sight causes you to jolt awake.

You quickly grab your handbag, which was thankfully lying right next to your bedside. You shuffle through your bag and heave a huge sigh of relief upon finding the item you were looking for; a golf sized ball.

It’s safe, you think to yourself and put the ball back in its place.

Knowing that the drowsiness you were trying to lean into, is gone, you decide that it would be smart to utilize the time to reply to any texts or e-mails you might have received.

However, your face drops when you see the notification of several missed calls on your home screen. Your entire body freezes in panic, and you feel an overwhelming sense of fear take over your body.

You gulp and press the ‘call back’ button.

You don’t think that the call goes past even one ring before it’s picked up on the other side.

A very panicked and worried voice greets you. “Y/N, yǒu gēngxīn ma?” Y/N, any update? 

You shake your head, “hái méiyǒu.” Not yet.

“Qǐng jǐn nǐ suǒ néng. Xùnsù de. Fǒuzé yīqiè dūhuì huǐ diào.” Please do whatever you can. Quickly. Or else everything will get ruined

“Wǒ zhèngzài jìnlì. Bié dānxīn, wǒ huì xiǎng bànfǎ de.” I'm trying my best. Don't worry, I'll figure something out.

As you cut the call, you’re left with nothing but a pile of emotions that you have no idea how to deal with. You rub your temples and try to take a few deep breaths in hopes that this feeling of being paralyzed would pass.

However, you give up within less than a minute, and at the very next moment, you find yourself shuffling through your bag again. 

Open app

bangtanficsforyou

Hello, Love! (JJK)-03

New

4 days ago

Genre: fluff, angst, probable smut (we don’t know yet lololol)

Rating: 18+

Summary: You had a plan when you returned home, seven years later. However, falling in love with your sister’s fiance wasn’t it.

Word count: 6.2K

Warning: for this chapter; there's some heavy mentions of drugs. Except, for that, there's so much happening 😩.

Fun fact: the picture in the middle is actually a screenshot of a scene from the movie this series is based upon 🤭

“Any update?”

“Sir, we haven’t heard anything back yet.”

Jungkook sighs, having expected that answer. “Keep trying to contact them, and as soon as you hear anything back from them, let me know.”

He emphasizes the word anything because at this point, he genuinely believes rejection would be better than being kept hanging. At least, a rejection would help him have a practical understanding of the scenario and remaining options.

“And how are the preparations for the party going?”

“Sir, we have arranged most of the things, if you like you can pay us a visit and inspect things yourself,” his manager replies.

“Yeah, maybe after my meeting with Mr. Han, I’ll drop by at the hotel,” Jungkook nods to himself, thinking that, that will be the ideal way to go about things. “Remember, everything should be perfect. If everything goes as planned, I’m sure Riya will be impressed.”

“Don’t worry sir, we will look after it.”

You wake up to the sound of your alarm.  

You look around, taking in the room, and notice the soft blankets that are currently wrapped around you. For a moment, your mind feels blurry, having no recollection of last night whatsoever. However, once the memories come back to you, you relax into the soft mattress and sigh at the comfort.

Your eyes start drifting again and you feel this weird sense of giddiness at the thought of having slept so comfortably after ages. Unfortunately, you are stopped from going back to the world of dreams by a constant dribbling of a ball against the floor.

You frown and raise your head slightly to figure out what is causing the noise. From the slight space that the open door leaves, you see a young kid playing with a small ball.

The sight causes you to jolt awake.

You quickly grab your handbag, which was thankfully lying right next to your bedside. You shuffle through your bag and heave a huge sigh of relief upon finding the item you were looking for; a golf sized ball.

It’s safe, you think to yourself and put the ball back in its place.

Knowing that the drowsiness you were trying to lean into, is gone, you decide that it would be smart to utilize the time to reply to any texts or e-mails you might have received.

However, your face drops when you see the notification of several missed calls on your home screen. Your entire body freezes in panic, and you feel an overwhelming sense of fear take over your body.

You gulp and press the ‘call back’ button.

You don’t think that the call goes past even one ring before it’s picked up on the other side.

A very panicked and worried voice greets you. “Y/N, yǒu gēngxīn ma?” Y/N, any update? 

You shake your head, “hái méiyǒu.” Not yet.

“Qǐng jǐn nǐ suǒ néng. Xùnsù de. Fǒuzé yīqiè dūhuì huǐ diào.” Please do whatever you can. Quickly. Or else everything will get ruined

“Wǒ zhèngzài jìnlì. Bié dānxīn, wǒ huì xiǎng bànfǎ de.” I'm trying my best. Don't worry, I'll figure something out.

As you cut the call, you’re left with nothing but a pile of emotions that you have no idea how to deal with. You rub your temples and try to take a few deep breaths in hopes that this feeling of being paralyzed would pass.

However, you give up within less than a minute, and at the very next moment, you find yourself shuffling through your bag again. 

“Auntie, I only drink black tea,” one of Jungkook’s distant cousins declines politely.

Jungkook’s aunt only smiles in response and moves to the next person, offering them the milk tea.

“I am sorry, but I will have coffee,” comes the response.

Another polite smile from Shweta.

“I only drink black coffee.”

“Oh,” she responds and again moves on to the next person who so happens to be Jimin.

“I will have—“

“Shut up and drink it,” Jimin’s words are cut off immediately.

Jimin without a single protest picks up a cup and starts sipping on the tea. No matter what age, he knows better than to disobey his mother when she is annoyed.

“What’s wrong with a simple milk tea?” she mumbles to herself on her way back to the kitchen. “Back in our day,—“

Her words come to a halt when a loud bang of a door opening with more force than required, resonates through the entire living room. The sound catches everyone’s attention and the usually loud room goes quiet.

And then you walk in through the door.

You walk in without any awareness of the eyes on you and make your way straight to the dining table. Pulling out a chair, you take a seat. You grab a bottle of water and instead of pouring yourself a glass, you start drinking directly and empty the bottle.

Then, you look at the breakfast that has been arranged on the table and take two slices of bread and start spreading butter on them. Once done you look around for the salt pot and find it resting on the table, away from your reach.

“Salt.” You speak the one word sentence to the old lady that has the container right next to her.

Everyone in the room breaks out of their trance of watching you and albeit a little weirded out, go back to what they were doing.

The old lady passes you the salt pot and she too, returns back to the conversation she was having with Jungkook’s mother (who is also sitting at the same table, a few chiars away) before your wild card entry.

“It is too hot today to go out shopping. Can we not go some other day?”

“I know, but there are absolutely no chances of the weather getting better any time soon,” Jungkook’s mother replies, sighing at the thought of having to step out in this heat. “Plus, we don’t have much time.The wedding is right around the corner.”

The older lady hums in understanding. “But we should visit a few shops first just to compare the prices and quality of clothes.”

“Don’t worry about that,” reassures Jungkook’s mother. “We will go to Mr. Roy’s showroom in Amy Avenue. They will give us everything at discounted rates and we won’t have to worry about the quality at all.”

“But who will take us there? The place is pretty far!”

“What a coincidence!” You speak up suddenly, mid-chew. “I’m also going there. You guys can come with me.”

Another round of silence falls in the room.

“But dear, who are you?”

You look up at the old lady upon hearing her question.

First blink.

Second blink.

Third blink.

“Who are you?” You shoot her question back, instead of answering her.

The lady frowns, finding your tone rude. “I am Jimin’s grandmother.”

“I am Jimin’s friend.”

Jimin’s eyes almost pop out of his sockets at your sudden declaration. This is the first time he is getting to know about your existence. How can you be his friend?

Jimin’s mother steps out of the kitchen quickly at the mention of her son’s name. “You are Jimin’s friend? He never mentioned you before.”

You simply shrug as if to convey that it is not your business to wonder about the strangeness of Jimin not mentioning you before.

“So where do you stay?” Aunt Shweta queries further, finding her curiosity spike at the information of her son having a girl friend she has never heard of before.

“People’s Republic of China.”

“Make sure—“ Jungkook’s sentence is cut off mid way when the sound of your voice reaches his ears. “I’ll call you later.” He promptly cuts the call and rushes out of his room.

“Ch-China?” Shweta is perplexed, thinking she is hearing things wrong. “Jimin has never stepped out of this city.”

Jimin looks around in confusion having no clue whatsoever as to what he’s supposed to do. It is then that he sees Jungkook rushing out of his room. The moment his eyes lock with Jungkook’s, Jungkook puts a finger on his mouth asking Jimin to stay quiet and play along.

Jimin glares at Jungkook, realizing that he has somehow become the scapegoat, again.

“How did you two meet?” This time the question is aimed at Jimin, as his mother seems to be totally confused by this revelation. Since, when did his son start making girl friends from other countries? And how? 

Jimin gulps, knowing he will have to face the  MID (mother-investigation-department) later. “O-online?”

Jimin’s words come out more as a question than as an answer and this only heightens his mother’s confusion.

“Online?” She asks, reflecting her son’s unsurety.

Jimin looks at Jungkook who is thankfully hidden from Shweta’s view and as Jungkook nods, he looks back at his mother. “Yes, online.”

Shweta looks at Jimin with a look that clearly says that he has got a lot of explaining to do. She then looks back at you to ask you something, but decides otherwise upon realizing that you seem entirely focused on eating your breakfast.

And that marks the end of the conversation.

Everything resumes back to normal. Shweta heads back to the kitchen. Jungkook heaves a sigh of relief. Jimin convinces himself he shouldn’t murder Jungkook right before his wedding.

However, unbeknownst to everyone, two people in particular have taken a certain interest in you.

One, Tae Oh, Jungkook’s maternal cousin.

Two, Jeon Baek Hyeon, Jungook’s father.

There are a total of three cars. The one in which you’re currently seated in has you in the passenger seat, with Tae Oh and Jungkook’s mother in the middle row.

Jungkook takes a peek inside the car and sees that his mother is on the phone with someone while Tae Oh is listening to some music with his earbuds plugged in. He takes this opportunity to speak to you.

“Listen,” he whispers. “Please don’t let them know who you are.”

You look at him, over the rim of your sunglasses, which rest on the bridge of your nose. “Who am I?”

Jungkook looks at you as if the answer to that question should be obvious. “You’re Riya’s sister.”

You nod at him and with a click of a button, pull the windows of your seat up.

“I-Wha?—”, Jungkook knocks on the window, asking you to pull it back down.

You look at Jungkook and then look at the driver who is currently in the process of turning the engine on. Then you look back at Jungkook and shoot him a two-finger salute as a way of bidding him goodbye as the car takes off.

Jungkook stares at the now moving car and wonders as to what turn of events will this shopping day-out take.

In the fifteen minutes that the car has been on the road, you have finished an entire bottle of water. A fact that Jungkook’s mother finds concerning.

“Dear, are you okay?” she asks wondering if you’re drinking so much water because you’re not feeling well. With the sunglasses that you have on, she cannot even read your expressions properly.  

You look at her through the rearview mirror. “I’m as okay as a squirrel with an acorn stash for winter.”

Jungkook’s mother is confused by your choice of words but decides that you must be intending to convey that you’re alright. She nods, although the worried frown on her face refuses to go away.

Tae Oh on the other hand, keeps stealing glances at you, through the rearview mirror. You’re the prettiest girl he has ever seen. When he realizes that  you’re humming some song to yourself, he decides it’s his time to shine.

He clears his throat. “Auntie, you know right I was about to be the next big music idol?”

“Is it so?” Jungkook’s mother queries. As someone who is trained in classical music, she finds herself interested in this conversation.

“Yes,” Tae Oh confirms. “Unfortunately, the judges didn’t have the depth to understand my style of singing.”

“What song did you sing?” You ask, now looking back at him through the rearview.

“Wannabe,” he replies, feeling shy now that you’re directly speaking to him.

“By spice girls?”

“Yes,” he replies, sounding proud and confident about his ong choice. “Would you like a demo?”

“Sure.”

The clearing of his throat is the only warning Jungkook’s mother gets.

"Ha ha ha ha ha—YO, I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want!"

He starts aggressively beatboxing, but it’s not beatboxing so much as random noises that sound like a train derailing. He keeps going anyway, hands waving like he's orchestrating a symphony.

Suddenly, you join and start "beatboxing" along—by loudly spitting sounds that vaguely resemble a wet cat sneezing."Pfffsh—tch-tch—PFFFssh-tch-tch!"

Tae Oh, not realizing the absolute disaster unfolding, presses on, getting  way too into the song. He sings the next line, stomping his foot like he’s a rockstar who just broke out his big hit. "So tell me what you want, what you really, really want!"

You are nodding along aggressively.  "I’ll tell you what I want—what I really, really want!"

You both are absolutely butchering the rhythm, singing in completely different beats. Tae Oh continues dramatically, as if he’s hitting the high note of a power ballad. You are adding extra "ha’s" where they don’t belong. "I WANNA, (ha), I WANNA, (ha), I WANNA, (ha)!" 

You try to match him but totally miss. "PFFFT—ha ha—PFFT—zigazig ahhhhh!" 

Jungkook’s mother watches in utter disbelief, frozen in shock. Nothing could have ever prepared her for this. It's like a car wash you just have to see through to the end.

You both try to keep the song going, but at this point, you both are so off-key and off-beat that it’s devolved into a chaotic mix of random noises and misplaced beats.

"If you wanna be my lover—YOU GOTTA GET WITH MY FRIENDS!"

“Because—“

"FRIENDSHIP NEVER ENDS!" You both belt out, together.

“Nice try.” You give Tae Oh a nod of approval as the duet comes to an end, who smiles back shyly at you.

Jungkook’s mother reminds herself to close her mouth which was wide open during the entirety of your performance.

On a brighter side, at least now she’s assured that you aren’t feeling sick.

Jungkook sits in a sleek, modern reception area, fidgeting with a notepad in his hands. Dressed in a crisp suit, his leg bounces nervously as he mentally revises his speech for the upcoming meeting. His lips move slightly as he murmurs the rehearsed lines to himself.

"Right. I just need to be clear, confident... just ask directly, no big deal..."

The door to the office opens. A tall, authoritative man, Mr. Han, steps in, his eyes scanning the room before landing on Jungkook. Jungkook stands, straightening his jacket and putting on his best business smile.

"Jungkook, I presume?"

Jungkook bows slightly. "Yes, sir. It’s an honour to meet you."

They exchange firm handshakes. Jungkook gestures toward the chairs, and they both sit down. Just as Mr. Han opens his mouth to begin, Jungkook’s phone buzzes loudly. He glances at it – and realizes it's Riya. His brow furrows. He hesitates, then looks at Mr. Han.

"Sir, if you could please excuse me for a minute."

"Oh yes, absolutely."

Jungkook receives the call and speaks in a hushed tone. "Hey, Riya, I’m in the middle of—"

"Which guesthouse did you drop Y/N at?"

Both Riya and Jungkook speak at the same time, although somehow, Jungkook’s words get drowned out.

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard. "Uh... I brought her to my place."

A beat of stunned silence follows on the other end, as Riya waits for Jungkook to add that he's joking. When he doesn’t, she loses her cool.

"What?! You brought her home?! She’s a drug addict, Jungkook, you cannot trust her with anything!" she exclaims. "Where is she now?"

"Relax!" Jungkook speaks calmly, even though the revelation of you being a drug addict shocks him. But he can’t sound panicked, not while sitting right in front of Mr. Han. "She’s just taken my family shopping at your dad’s showroom in Amy Avenue."

Riya gasps sharply, followed by a barrage of words. "Shopping?! Jungkook, you idiot! Alpesh Uncle is at the shop today—if he sees her, we’re in serious trouble!"

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he realizes the gravity of the situation. Panic begins to creep in as he nervously rubs the back of his neck.

"Alpesh Uncle... oh no. Okay, okay, don’t worry! I’ll fix this."

"You better fix it."

He quickly ends the call, his heart racing, and looks back at Mr. Han, who’s been politely waiting. His expression has shifted from professional to slightly puzzled.

"Is everything alright?" Mr. Han asks.

"Sure, sir," Jungkook forces a tight smile, though his mind is racing. "How is Mrs. Han?"

"Mrs. Han?" Mr. Han looks perplexed by the sudden change of topic but answers anyway. "There’s some medical issue, you know, with her gall bladder. But the doctor was also wondering if it’s related to her knee—"

Jungkook nods, trying to seem interested as Mr. Han goes on.

"—there’s a lot of pus that's collected there—"

"Sir, can I meet you after two hours?" Jungkook suddenly blurts out, unable to hide the stress building inside him.

"Today? I’m sorry, Jungkook, but I’m really busy today."

"Sir, can you give me six million dollars?" Jungkook cuts to the chase, knowing why he's really there. But before Mr. Han can respond, Jungkook starts gathering his files and stands up. "I’m sorry, sir, I have to leave. It’s an emergency."

Mr. Han stares at him in utter confusion as Jungkook rushes out of the room, his footsteps echoing in the hallway. 

Jungkook bursts through the hotel doors, adjusting his suit jacket as he hails a taxi. He jumps inside, running a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of the chaos he's just unleashed.

The sun hangs high over Amy Avenue, casting a warm glow on the busy street. Lively storefronts line the avenue, and the air is filled with the sounds of chatter and laughter. In the midst of the hustle, is you, who leads Jungkook’s family in a single-file line, a colorful chain of chaos and utter confusion.

You stand at the front, a beacon of energy and casual confidence. Your dark hair sways as you turn back to check on the group, your hands raised to maintain the chain. The family follows your lead, though not without fair share of difficulties.

"Come on, everyone! Let’s stick together! Hold hands tight!" You shout.

Behind you, Jungkook’s family members talk animatedly among themselves. The line weaves slightly, and a few members begin to pull away from the chain.

"Hey, don’t pull so hard! I’m not made of rubber!" Aunt Young grumbles.

"Watch out! We’re going to bump into a car!" Uncle Choi says, nervously.

The street is bustling, and the noise only adds to the jovial confusion. You glance over your shoulder, your eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

"Just a little further! We’re almost at the showroom! You’re all doing great!"

You look at the entrance of the showroom which although is now visible, still remains a few meters away. You turn around and face your followers and address them. “You see that? That’s our destination. A few steps more and we will get there. Don’t stop now.”

You speak like a coach motivating their team on how to win a champion’s trophy.

As you all approach the entrance of the showroom, Alpesh Uncle steps out. Adjusting his glasses he squints at the screen of his mobile. “Lord knows, what happens to the tower.”

“C’mon, c’mon. Just a few steps more.” With the volume at which you’re speaking, it’s all thanks to the hustle of the market that your voice doesn’t reach Alpesh uncle.

“Hello? Hello? Is my voice audible?” Alpesh uncle speaks loudly into the phone but when he is met with silence, he removes the phone from his ear and waves it in the air in a zig-zag motion, hoping that it will catch the tower.

“Very good! Very good!” You encourage with your back facing the showroom, motioning your hands for the line to keep moving forward.

Alpesh uncle is about to go inside his showroom, having given up on trying to find the mobile tower when he spots Jungkook’s mother in the crowd. “Ah! Look who it is!” He exclaims cheerfully, and starts climbing down the small flight of stairs that connects the street to the showroom.

Now, the entire family’s attention has shifted to Alpesh uncle, the line has broken as everyone comes forward to greet him and you’re about to turn around when you feel a firm hand grip your arm and yank you with a swift tug.

Before you can react you come in contact with a hard chest and you look up to realize that it’s Jungkook, whose attention is fixed on his family and Alpesh uncle greeting each other, having totally missed your sudden disappearance.

“Let go!” You snap trying to free yourself from his grasp but his arms only tighten around you.

“Shh,” he looks at you, a sense of urgency in his eyes as he waits for Alpesh uncle to go inside along with his family. “Alpesh uncle is here and you cannot be seen by him.”

“But I need to go and talk to him,” you argue, although Jungkook pays no attention to your words even though you keep squirming in his hold. “Let me go!”

Jungkook watches as one by one everyone starts getting inside. He sees Aunt Young and aunt Shweta discussing among themselves and looking around, most likely searching for you, before they, too go inside.

It is only when he’s sure that it is safe that he releases you.

That was a close call.

Jungkook stands outside Riya's vanity van, his hands gripping the door frame as he leans in slightly. His eyes flicker to you, who sits a few feet away on a folding chair, quietly eating from a plate of food meant for the cast and crew and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of frustration.  “There were full of mosquitoes there, she wasn’t eating—”

“So you could have gotten her food. What was the need for you to bring her home?” Riya argues, from where she’s currently sitting inside the van with her hairstylist brushing her hair.

“She’s your sister, Riya,” Jungkook points out as if that should make it obvious why he brought you home.

“Exactly! She’s my sister,” Riya agrees to Jungkook’s statement but refuses to acknowledge the emotion behind his words. “Just do what you’re told to do.”

Jungkook sighs, knowing there is probably no point in having this conversation. Not to mention the fact that he still remains unaware as to why you were supposed to remain hidden from Alpesh uncle. He somehow figured that no one from your family except for Riya knows about your return, but he has absolutely no idea why Alpesh uncle spotting you would have been such a big deal. 

However, a shooting set is definitely not the place for that kind of conversation.

“Have you managed the funds yet?” Riya asks.

“I’m on it,” Jungkook replies, not mentioning that he left a very crucial meeting like a bride leaving the altar, right after receiving Riya’s call.

“Then please just focus on that.”

Jungkook sighs again and with a nod, takes his leave.

As he’s walking in your direction, he notices that you’re entirely focused on eating and he takes this opportunity to verify something.

He quickly changes his direction of walking and walks towards the parking lot. He unlocks his car and finds your bag lying on the passenger seat. He only has to unzip the first chain to find several small containers filled with pills.

A sick feeling spreads through his body and he quickly zips back your bag and places it exactly where it was before.

Slowly things start making sense to him.

The day when he met you at the hotel; you were completely absentminded and hardly bothered to pay heed to basic social cues. Whereas, when he drove you from the hotel back to his house, you were rather normal. You even remembered the fact that you both had met seven years ago.

Your odd behaviour could all be explained by you being under the influence of these pills.

Jungkook rubs his temples, feeling a headache surfacing.

After a few moments, he takes a deep breath, locks his car and heads back to the shooting set.

“Eat quickly we need to leave,” he takes a seat right next to where you’re sitting. However, now that he knows what he knows, it is like he has started to put the puzzle together and for some reason, a suspicion occurs in his mind when he realizes that you’re wearing your sunglasses. “Can you remove your sunglasses for a second?”

You stop eating and look up at him. “Why should I?”

“Just remove them,” Jungkook deadpans, running thin on patience.

You shrug and remove your glasses. Letting them hang from your shirt, you resume eating.

Jungkook watches you closely, and his suspicion is proven right when he notices that you’re blinking your eyes quite frequently. He does not recall this being the case when you were your normal self.

So, this fast-frequent blinking thing is a characteristic of the Y/N that comes out after popping the pills.

“Do you take drugs?” He asks you.

“Nope,” you reply, popping the ‘p’, not being phased by the question at all.

“Then what are those tablets that you take?” Jungkook refuses to back down.

You look up again, even in your high state looking slightly taken off guard. Although, nothing that derails you. “They are medicines,” you reply matter-of-factly, looking straight into his eyes.

Jungkook stares right back. “What medicines?”

“Dichlorosystrin, zincodestrin and oxidisulphide.”

“Are you ill?” he counters, trying to get you to admit that you do indeed take drugs.

“Nope.” You pop the ‘p’ again. “I feel weird sensations in my body and these pills control them.”

“What kind of sensations?”

“Sensations such as shivering, palpitating, irritability, trembling, sheepishness—”

“Just finish the food and then we will leave,” Jungkook cuts you off with much annoyance, understanding that you’re high and no matter what he says right now, you will always have an answer. You aren’t even in the right state of mind to understand the seriousness of the conversation. 

You and Jungkook walk through the gates of the banquet hall of the hotel, where Jungkook is organising the surprise party for Riya. Jungkook walks a few steps ahead of you, while you follow his trail.

While Jungkook is scrolling through his phone, checking his mail, you rip open a packet of chips. The sound of which annoys Jungkook to no end.

You take a chip out and munch on it loudly. Jungkook turns around and glares at you. You almost collide with him not realising that he has stopped walking. However, upon noticing Jungkook’s glare, you look to your left and right, checking if it’s really you, he’s glaring at.

Before, you can ask him what’s wrong, he is walking again.

You don’t think much of it, resume your munching and follow Jungkook.

However, it couldn’t be more than ten steps before Jungkook is facing you again, causing your steps to halt as well.

“So you are sober now?” Jungkook snaps, unable to hold it in any longer. “Do you have any idea how many side effects those pills have?”

“There are plenty of them,” you reply, without missing a beat. “Memory loss, definitely a gain in appetite which is reduced considerably when you eat, increased thirst and if I pop in a lot of pills, my heart would race to 300 and when so much blood is being pumped, there will be nosebleeds and—“

—“and?” Jungkook waits for your next words with a bated breath, hoping you won’t say what he thinks you’re about to say.

“—and hypoglycemic shock, then coma, then death.”

Jungkook releases a breath, a mix of disbelief and sheer horror coursing through his veins. He looks at you and the look of pure calmness on your face as you say these things astonishes him to no end. How can you know about all of this in great detail and still choose to pop those pills? Most importantly, how can you speak about all of this so casually? You aren’t even high now!

“You’re addicted to those drugs,” he says, as if explaining the seriousness of the situation to you.

“Nope,” you deny. “I have formulated them 15 days ago. It takes 21 days to get addicted.”

Jungkook scoffs. “That’s what all drug addicts say,” he resumes walking, feeling undeniably frustrated that no matter your state, you refuse to take this seriously.

“I’m not a drug addict,” you mumble, voice soft and for the first time since he has met you, vulnerable. “I haven’t touched them in seven years.”

Jungkook looks back at you and some of his annoyance melts at the childlike expression on your face. He huffs and decides it’s for the best to focus on why he’s here.

“Jun!” Jungkook calls for his manager, who comes rushing towards him. “Is everything ready?”

“Almost, sir.” Yeonjun, or Jun as Jungkook likes to call him, replies.”Only the swing is missing it’s seatbelts. That will be organised by this evening. So we cannot make the swing fly yet. Except for that you can test everything out.”

Jungkook nods and stands nervously in front of the crew, his eyes darting from the large red swing (which looks like a loveseat) to the sky, where fireworks were meant to bloom on the big day. This is supposed to be a perfect dry run for Riya’s surprise, and he wants everything to go smoothly. He tugs on his shirt collar, feeling the weight of the moment and takes a seat on the two-seater swing.

“Jun, be Riya for the time being,” Jungkook pats the space next to him, motioning for Jun to take the seat.

“S-Sir, me?” Yeonjun is slightly taken off guard by his boss’ words.

“Yes you, Jun,” Jungkook confirms, with a small flicker of amusement.

Yeonjun follows his instruction and takes the seat. He crosses his legs, places his hands on his lap in a very ladylike manner and looks at Jungkook with a loving look.

“Okay, you didn’t have to go the extra mile,” Jungkook tries to seem stern but the wide grin betrays him.

Yeonjun only looks away and flips his non-existent long hair to the other side.

A loud cackle coming from you grabs both Yeonjun and Jungkook’s attention.

“Ma’am, you’re finding this very funny,” Yeonjun says with a grin of his own, breaking from his character. He also takes this as an opportunity to invite you to be in his place. “Why don’t you come and sit here?” he gets up and offers you the seat.

“There’s no—”                                                                                 

“Sir, it’s better this way,” Yeonjun insists. “Let the lady try.”

You look at Jungkook wondering if it’s okay with him. Only to realize that he’s also looking at you with the same look.

You put aside the chips packet and dust your hands, and make your way to the swing. The moment you’re seated Jungkook explains to the entire crew the planned sequence.

“Listen carefully, the music comes on first, then the drapes, then the flowers, fountains, then the crane will lift the swing up and finally the fireworks. Okay?”

Numerous ‘yes,sir’s are received from the crew.

“Cool. Let’s go. ‘Riya’,” Jungkook looks at you and only then does he realizes that you’re not listening to any of this. Instead you’re examining the ropes that attach the swing to the crane very carefully. “Y/N?”

“Huh?”

“We’re about to start.”

“Oh, Okay,” you nod and get ready for whatever it is that is about to happen.

Now Yeonjun takes over as he addresses the crew working under him. “First play the music,” he instructs, to which the guy inside the crane, who’s responsible for all the buttons and keeping things in sync, shoots a thumbs up.

You look around and notice the two large speakers that remain hidden from the party section and expect them to blast any second now. However, moments pass and nothing happens. You look at Jungkook who with each passing second looks more and more impatient and give him a reassuring nod.

The guy inside the crane repeatedly presses the button that is supposed to be connected to the speakers but the speakers remain dead.

Jungkook loses his patience and yells at the guy to be heard over the distance. “What is wrong? Start the music!”

At that very moment, a strange metallic groan echoes from the crane above.

“Why is the swing…?” Jungkook begins, but before he can finish, the swing lurches upwards, leaving the ground behind.

“Whoa, wait!” Jungkook yelps, one hand tightly gripping the rope of the seat as it lifts into the air. While the other instinctually comes in front of you, in a protective manner, trying to work as a makeshift belt. You do not notice that however, as you burst into laughter, your head thrown back in sheer joy.

“This wasn’t part of the plan!” Jungkook panics, eyes wide as he sees the ground getting smaller beneath them.

“This is awesome!” You exclaim between giggles, your hair flying in the breeze. “This is awesome!”

Jungkook isn’t listening. His breath quickens, as the swing refuses to be still. One moment it moves to the right. The other, it moves to the left. “Get us down!” he shouts.

Oh you don’t remember the last time you had so much fun.

Now the music starts to play.

“A little unsaid, a little undone,”

The swing rotates a complete three-sixty and you holler in excitement.

“Fleetingly it stays, in a twinkle it’s gone”

The crew starts putting a blanket underneath just in case either of you fall.

 “Such a silly feeling.”

Just as Jungkook thought things couldn’t get worse, one of the drapes that is supposed to cover whoever is sitting on the swing from getting wet by the fountain, comes loose. It gets caught in the wind and wraps itself around his face. Blinded, he flailed his arms. “Help! I can’t see! I can’t see!”

 “Hold still, hold still!” You say, unwrapping the cloth with care. As you peel it away, you notice the look of panic and distraught on his face. “You’re okay. Look at me. You won’t fall”

Jungkook, heart pounding, blinked rapidly, his vision clearing as your calm yet excited face came into view.  

“There, better?” you query, your voice steady now.

Jungkook nods, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. He leaned back into the swing, still slightly nervous but trusting your calmness. “You’re way too comfortable with this,” he mutters.

“Well yeah, I wasn’t expecting this,” you express, the laughter in your eyes contagious.

By now, although the swing is in the air, thankfully it has stopped moving.

“Well, are we getting down anytime soon?” Jungkook hollers to the crew below.

“Sir, we are trying,” comes Yeonjun’s  reply. “The machine malfunctioned.”

You two hang in air in silence, both carrying two completely different moods. The quiet however gets disrupted when the fountains start, which is then followed by confetti of petals. With no drapes to cover the both of you, you two get wet.

You enjoy the flower petals falling on you, whereas Jungkook only feels cranky at his entire plan turning out to be a major disaster.

When the fireworks take off, you gasp and look behind you where the sky is lit with all sorts of beautiful colors.

The gasp catches Jungkook’s attention and he looks at you. You’re grinning wide, with your mouth parted and your eyes reflecting the fireworks. Although, he thinks the sparkle in your eyes might have everything to do with the joy you feel inside.

You notice Jungkook looking at you and can’t help but explain the rush of emotions you’re feeling. “I feel new sensations, as if fountains of cool water are breaking out underneath while fireworks are going off above, while we are swinging through it all.”

“I’m glad you had fun,” he smiles at you reluctantly. “But this whole thing is a mess. Nothing went according to plan.”

“Isn’t that the best part though?” You quip. “Had everything gone to plan, it wouldn’t have been much of a surprise. You too got a surprise, thanks to this mess.”

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth tug upwards and you can’t help but grin wider in response.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” He says but the tension in his voice has melted, replaced by something much lighter.

“Not as impossible as the chances of this being a success on the day of the party,” you say in a low voice, as if the words are not meant for Jungkook’s ears and look around innocently.

Jungkook lets out a laugh, this one free and genuine. In this moment, for some reason, the thought of all his efforts of impressing Riya, going down the drain doesn’t scare or disappoint him.

One thing he’s slowly learning about you; high or sober, you always have an answer .

A/N: *clears throat* just note the line about her mentioning this sensation about fountains of water underneath and fireworks above. Will come in handy later 🤭💓.

Also, I'm dropping my new fic "All that Sparkles" (Ceo Tae, Arranged marriage au) on my Patreon tomorrow! So if you'd like to check it out, you're most welcome 🤗❤️.

[kairoot]

SCREAM FOR ME ─── NRK

西村力 + 𝑓． reader suggestive, established relationship, comedy, thriller ✉️ : hi so I’ve been convinced to make ghostface riki fic by my 3ki girlies (doin this for yall) @elysianiki + @nshmuras .. also, please don’t take the title out of context bro omg 😭 the ghostface movie is literally called scream .. and special thanks to sia for picking out these photos for me :p — 𝐌𝐒𝐅.

entering you apartment in a hurry, you closed the door and locked it behind you, trying to avoid the cool air from entering your home.

it had been a hectic day at uni with trying to finish up any missing assignments before the semester ended and studying for upcoming tests. the only thing you wanted was to curl up on the couch and watch all the slasher movies you could find.

you wished you could start the weekend with your boyfriend, riki, but he had sent you a quick text saying that he was sick and you didn’t hear from him for the rest of the day. which you thought was weird but didn’t really pay it any mind. he probably just needed his rest.

you dropped your bags at the door, walking over to the kitchen to look for any snacks you could bring along with you to the couch.

as you shuffled through the space, your apartment seemed eerily silent, making you feel a bit out of place. the stillness wasn’t something you were used to, normally riki would be playing his game or you’d play some music. but tonight was different.

you shrugged the uneasy feeling off, trying to let yourself get used to having no noise around. you grabbed your bowl of the snack that you had craved so badly, heading to the living room and turning the television on.

you began eating your snack, becoming immersed in the movie you were watching. the tv’s volume was turned up enough so that you could hear it but not enough to miss the sound of something brushing against the hallway wall.

your brows furrowed as you turned your head in the direction, seeing nothing but the darkness of your empty corridor. the thought of something down there made you shutter but you tried ignoring it. maybe it was wind?

just then, your phone rang loudly, prompting you to turn away from the noise and pick it up.

“hello?” you answered.

“‘evenin’, pretty. alone again, i see.” the voice was one you’d never recognized before. but for whatever reason, the person’s words sent shivers through your body.

“who’s this?”

“whoever you want me to be, baby.” they let out a twisted chuckle, their voice dripping with something sinister.

you couldn’t reply, too confused and in shock.

“let’s play a game, shall w—“

“how do you know i’m alone?” you cut the person off, which sounded like a male’s voice but you didn’t pay much attention to it.

he laughed once again, “a little birdie told me.”

he paused for a moment, as if he was going to say something else.

“actually, your window was open.”

you sat up straight on your couch, eyes widening as you looked around frantically. you heard the unknown laugh on the other line, as if he could see the fear on your face.

you hung up, throwing your phone to the side before placing your bowl on the table in front of you.

now you were really worried and way too uncomfortable to continue watching tv.

your phone began to shriek again, the ringtone going off. you were hesitant about answering, but what would happen if you didn’t? would this stranger hurt you?

too afraid of the consequences, you pick the phone up with a trembling hand, clicking the answer button and bringing it to your ear.

“you keep answering me.. it’s almost like you wanna hear my voice.”

your breathing was unsteady as you listened to the stranger, too afraid to speak.

“what’s wrong? cat got your tongue, hm?” he said, faux sympathy in his voice. he could hear the way your breathed, how shaky you were.

“what do you want from me?” you mumbled into the phone.

“i just wanna have fun, sweetheart. that’s what halloween is all about.. right?”

you didn’t respond, too busy looking around the room, studying any corner and window to see where this man was or how he got into your home.

“why don’t we play a game, huh?”

there was another small noise in your hallway, causing you to turn around quickly, seeing nothing but pitch black but still hearing the sound.

it sounded like an object dragging against the wall.

“what kind of game?” you shuttered, backing into the table as you kept your eyes on the hallway.

“how about a game of.. tag?”

the dragging noise became louder and sounded as if it was getting closer.

“wh-what do you mean..?”

“you’ve never played tag before, silly? it’s easy,”

his voice grew more mischievous as the noise intensified, your ears ringing with fear as you let out a small whimper.

“i’m it… and now, all you have to do is scream.”

the call ended abruptly, the scraping noise fading with it. In the darkness of the hallway, you could make out the faint outline of a white mask. it moved closer, as a figure in a Ghostface mask emerged from the shadows.

you dropped your phone to the floor as the figure drew closer. paralyzed, you tried to move, but the shock held you in place— frozen in fear.

the mask tilted, as if studying you— relishing the fear in your eyes. as he headed toward you, the dim light had caught on the sharp edge of a blade in his hand.

suddenly, you didn’t feel so frozen anymore. the glimpse of the knife had knocked you out of your paralysis, causing you to dash into the direction of the kitchen.

the stranger didn’t run— it only took a few strides across the room for him to have a hold around your waist, pulling you into him tightly.

“where you goin’, pretty? the game just started.”

he lifted the blade up, as if he was going to press it against you, but he didn’t. instead, a familiar laugh came from under the mask, as you wriggled around in his arm.

“riki?!”

he continued to cackle as he let you go, lowering the blade. you turned around to back out of his arms, surprised to see that the “stranger” was none other than your boyfriend, who was always playing jokes.

your heart was still racing as you shoved his shoulder, half relieved and half furious. “that wasn’t funny, ki, you could’ve given me a heart attack!”

he just grinned, clearly proud of his scare.

“got your heart racing and i didn’t even have to try. was i that good?” he joked, taking his mask off so it sat on top of his head.

there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead, his face slightly flushed as he grinned at you.

your heart was slowing down now but a different kind of nervousness took over. you looked up at him with a slight pout on your face, playfully shoving his shoulder.

“no, babe, that wasn’t funny..”

he mirrored your pout, teasing you as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“aw, i’m sorry, mamas..”

he gently tilted your chin up, his gloved hand squeezing it gently. his eyes softened as he looked down at you.

“c’mon, don’t be mad,” he murmured, brushing his thumb along your cheek. “i’ll make it up to you… anything you want.”you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, though his warmth and closeness were making it harder to remain annoyed.

“anything, huh?” you replied, crossing your arms but leaning into his embrace.

riki grinned once more, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. “anything.” he repeated, letting his lips linger as he pulled you even closer.

“how about this?” he lowered his face, brushing his nose against yours, before leaning into to capture your lips in a soft, but urgent kiss.

you melted against him as his hand rested on the small of your back, not wanting to let you go. he deepened the kiss, making your heart race, a fluttering excitement coursing through you. your hands came up to rest on the sides of his face as you leaned into him more.

the world around you faded and you nearly forgot all about your scare from moments ago, only focused on the way riki held you so closely.

you pulled back slightly, breathless, look up into his eyes.

“forgive me?” he asked, his voice low and inviting, eyes sparkling with mischief. you smiled up at him, all of your anger gone now.

“do that again and i’ll think about it.”

he chuckled softly, leaning in for another kiss, this one deeper and a bit more passionate. his warm embrace and plush lips had you in a trance, drowning out all thoughts except for the sweet taste of him.

★★★

TAGLIST. @wonsdoll @mimismenu @yourssincerely-mimi @riribelle @nerdimoo @sngleehee @elysianiki — only accepting 40 people.

NETWORKS. @k-films

[luvsfootball]

not much of a girlfriend - jamal musiala.

requested by - anon.

request - holaa again hehehe could you write one for jamal like enemys to lovers??

your brother and jamal were childhood friends, so you were rather familiar with the young german boy.

when you first met, you were twelve and they were fourteen. you still played with barbies and bratz dolls and they made fun of you for it.

you remembered crying to your mother about how mean they were and she told you that ‘boys will be boys’.

growing up, you tried to avoid jamal but it was quite hard to when he was constantly sleeping over at your house and even being invited to family meals.

something inside of you desperately wanted jamal to just treat you with respect, and you didn’t know that’s what he felt too.

he was at your house tonight, eating in the kitchen when you went in to get your dinner. your brother was laughing at your makeup and you ignored him, something that took all of your might.

“will you both move?” you hissed, pushing past them to open the oven and take out your food. when you moved past to go upstairs, your brother stopped you.

“you can’t take that up to your room.”

“i’ll do what i want,” you replied, sticking your finger up and slamming the door shut.

hours went by and you headed downstairs to go for your date with one of your classmates when jamal came into the hallway.

“where are you going dressed like that?”

“like what?”

he didn’t say anything but when he raked his eyes up and down your body, you suddenly felt very self-conscious.

you knew deep down that jamal would never judge you but you couldn’t be so sure of that.

“nothing.”

your brother came out of the living room at the sound of your voice and furrowed his eyebrows. “where are you going?”

“out for a bit with kenzie.”

he seemed to buy the lie but before you could sneak out the front door and get to your date, e stopped you. “wait, jamal can give you a lift.”

immediately, you shouted, “no!” but your brother didn’t like the word no. “she literally lives down the road from jamal, he won’t mind.”

jamal shook his head, a silent agreement that he’d take you but you had to try and get out of it. sittinng in a car with him was the last thing you wanted, and you weren’t even going to kenzie’s.

“we’re actually going out for dinner, hence my outfit.”

“well where is it? i don’t mind, honestly.”

something inside of you was suspicious. why was jamal offering to drive you somewhere? you hated each other. or was it just you who hated him?

+

“it’s the next left.”

he hummed in response, using his indicator to turn around the corner. “this is a bit fancy for you and kenzie.”

for some reason, your throat went dry. why were you so nervous?

you chose not to respond and when he pulled up, you nearly ducked when you saw your date already waiting outside the restaurant. you knew for a fact jamal wasn’t going to leave until he saw you get inside.

“just around the back will be fine.”

“but there’s a parking spot here.”

“park around the back!”

he rolled his eyes at your little outburst but listened and drove around the side, turning his engine off. “could at least say thanks,” he murmured.

“thanks,” you whispered, shutting the car door and looking back a couple of times before walking up to your date as if nothing happened.

your date, ben, smiled when you showed up and he sideways hugged you rather awkwardly before saying, “i thought you weren’t going to come.”

“sorry, traffic was bad. do you want to go inside?”

his eyebrows furrowed at how hurried you were being but he trailed after you nether the less. you turned your head to see if his car was gone.

then you saw it.

jamal was driving past extremely slow, jaw visibly clenched at the sight of you and ben. you were scared he was going to tell your brother because he’d ask a million questions.

but you didn’t want the date to go wrong so you went inside and played everything cool.

+

‘nice date?’

the text message came as a shock and you werw busy drying your hair after a shower when it came through.

‘my love life has nothing to do with you.’

as you awaited a response, drying your hair became the least of your worries. jamal was with your brother downstairs right now.

honestly, you were shocked that he hadn’t already told him.

‘i wouldn’t call it love after one date.’

‘you probably can’t even get a date, jamal.’

downstairs, jamal didn’t understand why his heart fluttered at you using his actual name. it was always ‘musiala’ or ‘idiot’.

he didn’t respond after that and you resumed drying your hair whilst thinking back to the date. ben was really nice but you weren’t sure whether anything was going to happen.

a knock on your door made you finally move from your desk and you nearly slammed it shut when you saw jamal on the other side.

“what?”

“your brother’s gone to get some food.”

“so?”

he smiled a little before handing you a controller. “i need someone to play with while he’s gone.”

“and why should i?”

“you’ll get to rub it in his face when you beat his score. and you might even get to beat me.”

it sounded like a good deal, so you put your slippers on and trailed downstairs, flopping down onto the couch. “you’re so getting destroyed,” you snickered.

jamal rolled his eyes as he unpaused the game.

it ended with you both drawing and you were already demanding a replay.

“how was your date?”

you frowned at how he said the last word. “it was good. not sure about him though.”

“i think you need someone that matches you.”

scoffing, you turned to face him. “you think you’re such an expert on love.”

“i’m better than you at it!”

“when was the last time you even went on a date?”

his cheeks flushed red as he thought back and suddenly became very embarrassed. jamal hadn’t been on a date with anyone in about a year.

“when was the last time you had a boyfriend?”

“probably after you had a-”

you were cut off by his lips connecting with your own and your eyes widened in surprise. at first you didn’t kiss back, but you thought ‘fuck it’.

it was now a heated makeout and before it could go any further, you could both hear the key in the lock turn and you both pulled apart, moving far away from each other to not make it obvious.

“what are you doing down here?”

you discreetly wiped your lips before turning to your brother. “beating your top score.”

jumping off the couch, you passed him the controller and took the food to the kitchen to plate out.

you didn’t notice jamal’s eyes following your body and when you turned, he was facing the screen.

almost as if nothing happened.

[shuuuuush]

I NEED YOU [Sharky]

Summary: 24-hour challenge without Y/N. Simple right? Not for Sharky.

Warnings: none

A/N: This was actually going to be the can I kiss you yet fic, but then I had the other idea, and now here we are 😭 if u want, consider this the alternative for that fic.

*** ***

*** ***

"I hate this already."

Sharky groaned as he was supposed to make a video for his channel. The beta squad members give him a 24 hour challenge to complete and if he completes it, they give him £200.

But what he didn't know was that they all agreed to give him the same challenge. 24 hours without you.

When they told him about the challenge, the look on his face said it all. The boys knew he would lose this challenge and they would gain £200. Their evil smirks convinced Sharky that he would probably lose the money. But he would try anyway.

"Seriously? You do realise this is physically impossible. I contact her on a daily basis." Sharky admitted, after they told him about the challenge.

"Exactly! Meaning easy money for us. Or extra money for you if you do manage to complete it. But we all know you won't." Niko laughed as he had a clear evil plan ahead.

Determined to prove them wrong as he can't lose at his own video, he agreed to the challenge. AJ started explaining the rules to him.

"Ok Sharks, this challenge means no Y/N at ALL for 24 hours. No texts, calls, visiting her, hugs, kisses, all that crap etc. You have to survive 24 hours, got it?" As Aj explained it Sharky was already on his phone trying to text you one last time before it started but then Chunkz snatched his phone out of his hand.

"Nope, no phones, Sharky." Chunkz did his famous laugh, and he could tell they were all having fun with this.

"Wait, so does Y/N know about this challenge?" Sharky asked, and when he saw all their faces, he knew the answer before they replied, causing an eye roll from the Somali.

"Nope." The four all laughed, finding it funny how they'll be able to see their friend in misery for 24 hours.

Sharky sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "You're gonna make me lose my relationship, you know?"

.

.

.

The beta squad boys had taken turns to stay with Sharky and watch him to make sure he doesn't contact you in any way. Or try and escape to visit you.

The first hour, Sharky was fine. "Living life" according to his own words, technically this wasn't the normal amount of time he survives without seeing you.

Walking around the house, munching, playing football with Kenny (even if Kenny wasn't the best at football) as he was the first one over watching him. Doing anything to get his mind off the challenge and make it like a normal day.

Forwarding to the 3rd hour, Niko now was in charge over Sharky and decided to make things a bit more fun compared to the normal routine.

He messed around with Sharky, pretending to call your number to make plans to hang out with everyone but Sharky. Almost grabbing the phone from Niko, he suddenly remembered the challenge and retracted his hand. Laughing in victory Niko teased Sharky as he told him,

"Ohh almost lost the challenge there Sharks!"

"Shut up."

Slightly slouching over in defeat and stomping annoyed back to his room. Maybe a couple of winks will help pass the time, he thought. Not on Niko's watch. He made sure that sleeping was no option to pass time as it was sort of "breaking the rules."

Even though Aj wasn't meant to be helping over to watch Sharky at this hour, since Niko was still in charge, he helped Niko prank Sharky to see if he would lose the challenge. They put a voice recording of your voice from a previous video in one of the rooms.

Aj snickered as he press play on the recorder, hearing your voice throughout the rooms, Sharky stood up. It sounded like you were talking to someone and he almost left his room as quick as possible until he caught Niko and Aj laughing behind the camera.

Rolling his eyes, he said, "I see what you guys were trying to do, you were trying to trick me into going to find her huh? Yeah no."

Seeing as though their plan didn't work, they decided to show Sharky what it was anyway to cure his curiosity. And they went into one of the rooms, and it had the voice recorder with a picture of you on it. That picture was framed and taken from Sharkys desk.

As he looked at your picture, Sharky scratched the back of his neck. Yeah, this challenge is starting to get harder.

Chunkz was watching him now. It had been 5 hours into the challenge currently, and for Sharky, 5 hours is painstakingly long.

They were both in the sitting room, on separate couches though. Taking the camera and focusing it on himself, he spoke quietly so as not to let Chunkz hear him.

"Ok so far, I'll be honest I've done well but I can't take it anymore. 5 hours is too long."

He looked back to make sure Chunkz wasn't listening, he had headphones on and was scrolling through his phone. Sharky was slightly thankful Chunkz really couldn't care less about the challenge as much as Niko and Aj.

"I'm gonna try and sneak out now, hopefully I'll be able to do this." He winked at the camera and slowly got up giving it back to the camera man and walking towards Chunkz as an idea formed in his head.

"Hey man, I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick." Sharky told him, trying to not to look too suspicious.

"Yeah ok, just don't spend the whole video in there." Chunkz replied, waving him off but not taking his eyes off his screen.

Now was Sharkys chance, obviously he couldn't take the camera with him and his phone was still with Chunkz. So he was on his own now.

Going to the bathroom and closing the door, he climbed up the window of the bathroom and out the side of the house. Good thing he brought his car keys because he was about to his car that was parked on the side of the road.

Getting into his car, he thought about the challenge. Losing 200 pounds because he couldn't be away from you for 24 hours? Yeah, he was about to fail that challenge anyway. He needed you right now.

Starting the car and heading down to your house, he was desperate to be in your arms. 5 damn hours he had to suffer without you, he couldn't take it any longer.

Knocking at your door, he took a deep breath. Hopefully, you were at home right now. Hearing the jingling of keys unlocking the door, his worries ceased when he saw your face as you opened the door. He ran up to embrace you in a hug, and he sighed in relief and contentment.

You were confused but hugged him back, slowly closing the door while you were there.

"Sharky, why didn't you answer any of my texts? I was gonna head to your house to see if you wanted to get something to eat together." You asked, still hugging him as you layed your head on his shoulder.

"I was doing a stupid challenge the boys made me do. But it's over now, I'm here with you." He mumbled, closing his eyes as he felt comfortable in your embrace.

Letting go, but still holding his hands, you asked, "What was the challenge about?"

"24 hours without you."

You almost laughed. Of course, they would make Sharky do a challenge like this. You knew they thought that he would fail it, too.

"Well, did you make it?"

"I made it only 5 hours in." Hearing your laughter, he pouted, "Hey! 5 hours is long damn time Y/N."

"And what was the forfeit?" You asked, shaking your head with a small chuckle. You were glad he loved you so much that he didn't want to be away from you for so long.

"£200." He said, annoyed, looking away as he knew that the account money would definitely be gone. "Now, can I kiss you? It's been too long."

"5 hours is not that long but su-"

He didn't care about your answer because he was going to kiss you regardless, and the second he did, you melted into it.

Suddenly, you both heard a knock on the door, and you pulled away, heading towards the door to open it. And you were met with four familiar faces.

"Sharky!" Niko yelled, "You lost the challenge you schmuck, can't even stay away for a day, huh?"

You laughed at Nikos' reaction, and Sharky just placed his hands on his hips and shook his head. The rest of the boys teased Sharky for failing so quickly, but of course, they had to say hello to you and tell you about what a loser Sharky is and how he failed that challenge so badly. (They were joking, but still)

"Alright, alright, that's enough. Get on out of here." Sharky rushed towards the door, got the £200 out of his pocket, and threw it at the lot. They laughed in victory as he just shut the door.

You also laughed and went up to hold him in your arms again.

"You know we could have used that £200 pound for something Sharky, I wouldn't have minded."

He pulled out of your embrace and held your face with both of his hands, looking directly into your eyes,

"I don't need £200. I need you."

Taglist: @b4tasquad, @p3drii , @n1kodl, @elora-k, @slutforpablogavi, @enhacolor

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Open Practice

Pairing: CJ Stroud X Black!FemReader

Description: Football players, in your experience, are either childish, toxic or horrible communicators; your ex just so happened to be all of the above. But it’s been a few years and people can change. Or will a certain qb decide to pick up the pieces your ex left behind?

Warnings: Toxic Ex!Brevin Jordan

Word Count: 800+

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Walking into NRG Park felt odd. You’ve been to a football stadium before but not before noon or because your ex-boyfriend invited you to his open practice. Your relationship was like open practice actually, you practiced being the best girlfriend and he liked being open, for everyone.

Texas was huge, they were right when they said everything’s bigger in Texas. Including egos, you realized when you received a text from Brevin minutes after tagging Houston in your story.

From: No Air Jordan 🏈

Hey baby, heard you were in my city😁 Swing by tmr’s practice and watch me cook then I’ll show ya around 😉

You honestly thought he must’ve taken too many shots to the head, your breakup consisted of a few long texts and pure ignorance so you assumed he got the idea. Yet here you are sitting in the bleachers of the Houston stadium. You wandered around for a total of 15 minutes searching for somewhere to sit. Brevin only sent the one text so you had no idea where to go or where he even was. You almost left and forgot about him but a player in a #7 jersey stopped you.

“Excuse me, are you okay?” Damn dreads, pretty eyes and perfect ass lips.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. I was invited by someone on the team, but he’s not replying to me. So I was just gonna go.” You replied sheepishly.

“That’s cool, but if you want you could come over to my section. We’ll be done in about an hour and the view’s better over here.” He smiled.

He was cute, smooth and nothing like B, exactly your type. “Yea, I think I’d like that..”

“Oh sorry, I’m CJ. Quarterback.” Team leader = good communication. Noted.

“Y/n.” A whistle went off and grabbed CJ’s attention. “I guess that means ‘back to work.”

“Yea, we’ll talk after practice.” He flashed his award-winning smile once more then jogged back to center field. I’m definitely staying.

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Watching CJ- the Texans practice was actually pretty fun, you never could pay attention during their real games because of the boisterous crowd, but here on the secluded practice field you could actually focus on the players and didn’t have large men yelling in your ears.

Truth be told CJ looked electric out there. Everything he did lit up the light crowd, which makes sense with all his clean complete passes. His offense was ten times better than their defense, which sucks when it comes to game time, but what can you do?

Every once in a while he’d look back at our section and smile, just for a moment you let yourself believe it’s you he’s looking at.

Unbeknownst to you and Stroud, Brevin also noticed how he was looking in your direction. His face would tense up and for each play he’d ignore all instructions and go after the quarterback. Since he was on defense it wasn’t that long of a stretch between his duties and his actions, but he got pancaked after every attempt.

By the time practice was over, your ex was even more angered than before thanks to the amount of bruises he accumulated over the last two hours. Then he saw you and CJ talking, suddenly all his anger was justified.

=͟͟͞͞♡

“I really enjoy talking to you Y/n. Is there any way I can persuade you into joining me in getting a bite to eat?” You lightly bit your bottom lip, the corners curling upwards at his question.

“I would love that-

“I hope you know she hates barbecue, and she don’t do relationships especially with athletes.” The voice of your emotionally incompetent egomaniac ex boyfriend interrupts you from afar.

Rolling your eyes you decide to pay him no mind and just turn back to the nice guy in front of you. “As I was saying, lunch sounds great.”

Then Brevin inserts himself again, now only the field barricade separates you. “You should know who you’re getting involved with CJ, they call her Jennifer because she’s a maneater.” He wears a mischievous grin and defensive stance.

You scoff, “a maneater who’s only here because my loser ex boyfriend slid in my DMs the second I got to Texas. A maneater that was thinking about maybe hearing you out after our relationship went wrong. Even better, a maneater that was nothing but faithful to your misogynistic womanizer ass.”

“If I’m such a misogynistic womanizer why did you come?” He smirks thinking he finally got one over you.

“I heard your quarterback was way bigger than you, so I had to come check that out.” He flared his nostrils, and stormed off the field, but not before spiking his helmet.

“Jordan you’re getting fined for that!”

CJ chuckles to himself, impressed at the way you handled him. “Did you mean it?” He smirked.

You lean over the barricade and breathily whisper in his ear. “Every word.”

Then pull back to watch his face as he sucks his plump bottom lip into his mouth.

“Let’s get outta here.”

~

Walking out of NRG Park felt odd. Not because of unsatisfying BJ, but because it was the first time you’ve walked out of a football stadium and enjoyed the outcome of events.

┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ °

A/N: this sat in my drafts for too long, but I’m overcoming my posting anxiety and letting it see the light. Also I hit 100 followers🤭 tysm babes.

Main Masterlist

[tuliptired]

hi! could you write anymore little looks at a humanities ta!reader x egon in college?

Do Wah Diddy Diddy

Pairing: Egon Spengler/Gn!Ta!Reader

Warnings: Reader is drunk for most of it

The egon/reader tag is so barren ;( Why nobody else dressed like a slut tonight?

INSANELY better formatting on Ao3!

 Egon left his lab, surprisingly, stressed. His major didn´t often stretch him too thin, he knew what he was doing and how to do it best, but it was just that time of year. Lots of work, and not a lot of time to do it. He always managed, with lots of coffee and little sleep, it was just a fact of academia.

The outside world reflected the inside ecosystem of his fellow students, buzzing with life and blazingly hot. Plagued by the heated air trying to cling to the classroom, you cracked a few windows open as you taught in place of the absent professor. This wasn't out of the ordinary- the man trusted you enough to run a class, and you ran it like a natural, admittedly. But today was a little strained, your daily seminar not getting to the level of intensity it usually did. Egon would’ve made a comment on it as he got the last word in, but he decided against it. While you were a TA, there was more emphasis on the “A” in times like these, evident in how you scoured through notes for other classes when you had a spare minute.

They worked independently, before you lifted your head out of a notebook, one of many fans blowing some of your hair off of your forehead. You glanced at the clock, before quickly setting up a projector and unboxing a handful of identical, thick books.

“Big assignment,” you started, a few complaints sounding from the students, “it wasn’t even me this time, blame Mr. Coulms.” 

He left the lecture room in a worse mood than he entered it, the thick tome under his arm. A play. He was a great reader- he could read each edition of Tobin's Spirit guide cover to cover in an hour if he was looking to cite something. Scientific journals were light entertainment to him. But plays? You actually had to dissect a play. To dissect it, you had to read it- well. 

He leaned against a bookcase, in the not-leaning-but-leaning way that he does, so as not to disturb the books. He would be searching for something like Ray was, crouched on the ground and investigating the bottom shelf, but he wasn’t in the mood, glaring at the text he was given before placing it on an empty shelf beside him. 

They were tucked away in the basement of the Public Library- it was one of the few places that they could ask for books about harnessing pure protonic energy and campfire stories of the 30’s without being looked at weird. Peter messed with the straps of his bag, ready to go and saying so for the 3rd time.

“In a minute, Peter.” Ray placed a few books next to him, searching for the right one that happened to be inconveniently smaller than the one’s surrounding it. He looked up at Egon sympathetically. 

“I’m sorry, Spengs. But I did this one in high school, and it was a lot of fun!” His optimism was cut short as the rest of the books along the wood fall towards the middle like dominos. 

“It won’t be hard, Egon. Do the voices.’ Peter procured a rubix cube from his bag. Egon seriously didn’t know why he carried it around, as it was never once solved.

Ray fumbled with the books as he tried to Dewey-Decimal their placements in his head. “I’ll help. Just, uh…” He looked around at the mess he made. “Can you look around for ‘Ghastly Apparitions of the Appalachian’? We’re gonna need it, too.” Egon only nodded, eager to clear his head a bit. He remembered the author well enough, weaving through aisles to find the proper section. 

He didn’t make it far, there was a reshelving cart in his way, his feet coming to a halt. As he looked up from the roller, you were standing there, hands on your hips. 

“Doesn’t look like you’re studying very hard.”

He sighed a puff of air out his nose, as you peered over his shoulder. You saw two men on the ground, grabbing handfuls of discarded books. “And your friends are messing up my hard work.”

He glanced back at the men, then back at you. “Is there anywhere you don’t work?” He didn’t intend to be in a confrontational mood this afternoon, but a bad class will do that to you.

You pointed to a pin on your chest, which read your name in small print under ‘BOOKKEEPER’.

 “Nope. How many people do you know have a gold plated name tag?”

“Waste collectors and prison guards.”

“Did you need a book? Because you’re in the library?”

He had his hands resting on the handle of the cart, not noticing until you dragged it to the side, taking away the partition between you. “Ghastly Apparitions of the Appalachian by Gregory Lederer.” He expected you to not know what he was talking about, and stand there dumbfounded. But you pushed past him, making your way to the “L” aisle of the General Knowledge section.

Your eyes scanned the spines of various options. “I don’t remember this play taking place in Appalachia,” you moved on to the next row. He followed you like a dog, unsure of what to do while you helped him.

“It’s personal. Scientific.” 

“The title’s a little oxymoronic, then, no?” You finally found it, examining the covers quizzically.

As he reached out for the book, you pulled your hand back. Egon wanted to be annoyed, but it wasn’t in him.

“Actually read the play. Do the voices.” Your own voice had the tone of someone trying to reason with a child. He reached his hand out, again, and you placed the book into his palm, conceding. 

Though you had a modest smile, Egon couldn’t help notice your tired look, under eyes darkening despite your efforts otherwise. He could understand, this was a hard time for everyone, no matter their field. Before he could show you his commiseration, against his better judgment, you let the book go limp in his grasp, passing by him with a small “see you, Mr. Spengler”.

Peter appeared in his line of sight amongst the maze of shelves, as Egon stood dumbly. A voice told him to “clean up my basement” as he passed by.

“It appears we’re not wanted here. Let’s go, Egon.”

When it was officially late, you sat in your dorm, finally having time to sit and work. You had to skip a proper lunch, mindlessly putting a baby carrot in your mouth every 10 minutes as you snuck a binder under your desk at the Public Library. By the time you were on your bed, feverishly taking notes, checking notes, and reading notes, you were barely halfway done with your studying itinerary. This week was sufficiently kicking your butt, to say the least.

The door opened and shut, revealing your roommate, Christine, setting her bag down on the chair nearby. You barely verbally acknowledged her, looking for a specific page in your textbook. She gave you a once over, before making her way to the fridge, but unable to stop taking you in. 

“Did you hear what I said?” Christine asked you, skeptical.

“Don’t think so-” Page 392.

She poured herself a glass of something, eyeing you as she did. “I said, you need to relax a bit.”

That was easy for her to say. As much as you appreciated her and her companionship, all Christine did was relax. Still, your flow was disturbed, and you reluctantly put your materials down.

She continued now that she had your attention. “You don’t hang out anymore. It’s Friday.” She crosses to stand in front of your spot on the bed, effectively tapping you in the conversation.

“There’s some guys in my advertising class throwing-” You can tell what’s coming next, and you shimmy past her as she exclaims in protest.  

“Come on,” she follows you around, nearly pleading with you. You sighed, stopping as she leaned up behind you. It wasn’t that you didn’t like fun, or being with friends- parties just stopped being your scene a few semesters ago. How’s that for maturity?

“I’m telling you like I’ve told you a million times before. That’s just not my domain.” Christine spun you around, intent on not giving up until you caved.

“You guys always get drunk, then you get pissed, then I’m dragging you home and helping you puke it all up.” She rolled her eyes.

“We’ll only have a little- and,” she pointed an accusatory finger to your chest, “to be fair, you wouldn’t have to do all that if you drank a little yourself.”

You pointed the same finger back at her. “So we can all puke together? What a fun night.”

Christine made the sign of the cross then, pointed her fingers to the sky virtuously. “I swear on my life; we’ll know when to stop.” When she opened her eyes, you still weren’t convinced.

“Pleeeease? If it’s lame, we’ll leave and rent a video and get a pizza. But you might have fun.” She looked at you with those big blue eyes, and it took all of your strength to resist. She pleaded with you again, until you finally broke, covering your ears.

You groaned dramatically. “Alright, fine, fine. I’ll go to your stupid frat party and get smashed on cheap beer.” Christine cheered, making her way over to the phone. 

“I���ll call Dean and Lisa and-” you flopped back onto your bed. Staring at your long forgotten work, you wondered if this was the right choice. 

Egon read the line, waiting patiently for Ray to respond from the copy he borrowed himself, as the man read for all other 11 characters of the play. It was about two rulers from warring countries forced to live together in a dungeon, but he just couldn’t grasp what was so special about that. It was late into the night, the dorm only illuminated by a few lamps and the little bit of light pouring in from under the door. After hours of trying to evade it, both men had only made a small dent in the long drama.

Ray pushed his reading glasses up. “You need more conviction, Egon, I don’t feel like your wife right now.” Egon closed his copy, putting his forehead in his hand against his desk.

“I don’t think this is working.”

“Are you doing improv? ‘Of course it’s not working, you-”

“No, Raymond. This book isn’t working.” Egon slid it away from him, the bright red cover hurting his eyes, and his pride.

Ray looked sad for his friend, taking off his glasses. “The only way to do it is to read. I’m sorry.” He tossed his book onto his bed. “But we can take a break. Whaddya wanna do?”

Egon remembered it was Friday, the day most young adults would use to unwind. He reached into the drawer beneath him, emerging with a miniature Tesla coil Ray had fashioned.

“You read my mind, Spenges!”

The two men were engrossed with messing around with it, placing numerous objects on and around the transformer- granted that any other flammable or conducive thing they owned was moved out of the way. As Ray teased the sparks with a pencil, he suddenly recalled something, eyes flashing and wide as he dropped the writing utensil.

“Peter has my car!” He grabbed each side of his head, almost comically as he could picture it- a nice, clean Camaro being trashed by beer and bodily fluids.

Ray was just short of spiraling, stuck on either racing down to the party himself or bawling in the spinny chair. “I’d go there myself- and strangle the life out of him,” he nearly wept, covering his eyes.

Egon let his eyes shut, before willinging himself to his feet. He’d never, ever associate with any sort of party, let alone one at a fraternity. But Ray loved that car, his dad’s graduation gift to him that’s been his pride and joy since freshman year. His friend barely even drove it around, afraid to raise the mileage too much. He didn’t doubt Ray’s conviction, or ability, to show it to Peter for going against his wishes, but the engineer was in hot water with the hosting students. One complicated party trick gone wrong, and the front lawn was ablaze quicker than he could control the little ball of plasma. It was their sophomore year, but he still wasn’t welcome near the block of brownstones he managed to devalue.

“Thank you, Egon, I promise I’ll repay you,” Ray’s eyes were glossy with tears as he pressed his face impossibly close to the glass of the window, trying to spot his baby driving somewhere down the street.

Time lessened the heat, Egon thought to himself. It was dark, but not a long walk off campus and a block or two away from the party. It wasn’t hard to find it, either- the music was loud and the bacchanal activities spilled out onto the street and into neighboring yards. No sign of the car. He wrinkled his nose. In the last stretch of freshman year, Peter tried convincing him and Ray to join a fraternity, rattling off a laundry list of reasons that it’d be a thrilling experience for the trio. He was obviously unsuccessful, and dropped the idea when he realized that it’d be hard to make friends in the already tight knit community. 

Egon didn’t dare touch the doorknob, evading people lounging on the stoop as he entered the large house after someone, using his foot to keep the door open. It smelt strongly of booze in the hot, dimly lit apartment, music still blaring from an unknown source. Not to mention the hazy smoke that was billowing through the air, hard to avoid with his height, much like the sounds of two people making out behind the couch. Infection central. How were all these people still going this late? He had to step over the passed out body of some guy without a shirt to get to the kitchen. 

As he stepped from the carpeted area to the tiled floor, arms quickly wrapped around his middle. His head snapped down, and there you were, head buried in his chest.

“Hi, Egon,” you smiled sweetly up at him, eyes glazed over and voice syrupy, not as precise as you made sure it was. He blinked a few times, noticing not only your shoes standing on his, but the fact you called him by his first name.

“Hi.” He reveled in the confusion, before pulling you away from him, gently. “Have you seen Peter? Peter Venkman?”

You thought about it, before the memory flashed back into your recollection. “Dr. Love? He left with my friend Christine.” Your voice slurred the words “left” and “with”, the same way Ray did when he was so smashed he couldn’t stand. Junior year was a sight to behold. 

He remembered how he handled drunken Ray, noting how warm your shoulders were under his fingers. “You’ve been drinking?” He asked despite himself. Being a gentleman was above personal vendetta. It was odd, seeing you dressed like this, out of the professional attire you took pride in every day. Your ability to pick clothes with an anal retentiveness rivals even him- the only college student in a pressed dress shirt, a sweater vest, and slacks. 

“Like, one or five. Itsfine, I’mfine,” you waved your hands around dismissively, before placing them over Egon’s. “I didn’t know you could party, Egie.” He ignored the heat that stung the muscles in his cheeks.

“I don’t.” He went along with it as you started swaying the two of you back and forth lightly. “Did you come with any other friends?”

You went silent, thinking again. It was evidently hard to think and sway, and you eventually fell back into him, unable to keep your balance. “DeanandLisa went to get…food. And they told me to stay here. So I took’a nap.” You nodded to yourself.

“When?”

You couldn’t answer. He peeked sideways at the clock- 3:19. Wherever your friends went, they weren’t going to be back for a long time. 

Your arms were still around him, head back on his chest as his hands hovered over you, awkwardly. It was barely audible, but you were mumbling along to the song playing throughout the rest of the house. He should’ve felt a smug pride, watching you who were once so confident drool on yourself, stumble over your words, and paw at him, but he couldn’t. Egon felt a lash of guilt at the idea of leaving you behind, telling Ray that Peter was long gone, and going to bed. You were obviously inebriated- with no friends and too juiced to know not to sleep on the floor, he couldn’t just let you stay in this dump. 

That’s how he ended up herding you out the door, but not before you stumbled about the apartment, saying good night to everyone. He was on your heels as you banged on a socked-bedroom door, bidding whoever was on the other side farewell, but he wasn’t quick enough before you were shouting your goodbyes down the stairwell of the basement. For being wasted, you were surprisingly fast. He finally got you outside, the skin under his fingers actually cooling as you left the cramped party.

“I didn’t take you to be a party-person,” he confessed, hand on the small of your back to stop you from running across the street to greet the cat staring you down.

“I’m- wait,” you did in fact run, having to kick off your shoes for efficiency before bending down rather ungracefully to pet the feline like a child would, fingers splayed and pushing its ears back unintentionally. He watched on as you skipped back to the sidewalk, grabbing a street sign for stability when you reached him.

“I’m not,” you resumed as he steered you on. “But- it was Christine! She showed me her’fake eyelash…es and convinced me!” You looked to him to share your disbelief as you told the story, shoes waving around as you moved your hands. “I’couldn’t say no!”

Egon found himself smiling. “I have a roommate very similar.” You were surprisingly easier to talk to when drunk. He wasn’t burning up, or scrambling for his words like he normally did when you teased him, making the scientist detest you more and more for your ability to confuse him. His thoughts ceased, as you got closer to campus, but walking with increasing difficulty.

It was when he had to catch you before tripping over yourself that he swallowed his inhibitions, wrapping a hand under you. He wasn’t the strongest out there, maybe even a little weak, but he could support your weight until you reached home. As you let out a small noise of surprise though, he felt a primitive sense of manliness, your figure pressed to his in a bridal carry.

“Soooo strong.” You praised him, voice trailing off as you let your head hit his shoulder. He had to remind himself that you were drunk, none of this really meant anything. You’d wake up, and decide to torment him after taking an aspirin. His grip weakened as his smile did.

“Don’t drop’me,” your hands clawed at the fabric of his shirt, and he adjusted his hold.

“I won’t,” he watched you close your eyes, face content. “I won’t.”

 You were halfway back to the dormitory. He could feel you stirring, looking down and finding your eyes fixed on the night sky. 

“What’s up there?”

“Ursa Major.” You pointed lazily.

“That’s a plane.”

You stiffened in his arms. “No, it’s’not. I know this. It’s the bear.” You managed to cross your arms over yourself while in his hold. He felt bad, provoking you while inebriated. 

“Then it’s the bear.”

“Put me down,” you hit him on the chest a few times, willing him to reluctantly place you on your own two feet. You shook off his attempts at still holding you, intent on trying to make it home on your own. You stormed off along the path, nearly veering off into the grass.

“Where are you going?” He couldn’t hide the concern behind his voice, trying to keep up with you as you took on a sudden irritation towards him.

“Home.” You kept your pace, before slowing, battling something in behind your eyes in your drunken state. “You think I’m dumb.” Egon stopped in his tracks in a moment, before walking behind you again.

“That’s not true,” he said simply, throwing away his feud with you when sober. He thought of you as one of the smartest people he knew. And you managed to make him look like a mere child while baring your smile at him.

“Maybe I’like being drunk,” you retorted to no one in front of you. As you slowed, so did Egon, watching on as you looked on down the dim, street lamp lit path. When he followed your gaze, he saw nothing but the darkness of night ahead of him. Suddenly, you fell forward, uncaring and weightless. He wasn’t quick enough to catch you, heart dropping to his toes before you simply rolled over onto your back. Your knees were scraped, rapidly drying blood mixing with the gravel and dust of the ground over your lacerated skin. Before he could worry too much about it, you merely laughed, full of glee as your eyes were transfixed on the stars, arms out like you were a star yourself. 

You passed out pretty quick after that, a little heavier in his arms. To say Egon was uneasy was an understatement, but at least you were out for a bit. He struggled to get the door to the building open, and even more so getting up to your dormitory floor, only narrowly avoiding hitting your head against a door frame every so often. Taking a quick look at the plates on each door, he was relieved at finding your surname printed on one. After a few discreet knocks, however, no one opened up, either passed out themselves or simply not home. Searching for solutions, he sighed, again, gently laying you against the baseboards. It wasn’t his most elegant idea, but it’d have to do as he reached in his pocket for a pad and paper. He simply scribbled the words “Passed out, sleeping in 244. Please pick up when you get home.” Pressing it in the space between the room number and the wood, he picked you up for the third time and made the trek back to his own place.

You looked peaceful, as Egon decided on putting you in Ray’s bed, alcohol and cotton pads ready. Ray wasn’t home himself- and it’d be unbecoming of him to put you in his own. He hummed to himself, your current state reminding him of the deuteragonist in the play you gave him. They were affluent and sybaritic, imprisoned while drunk and jovial, to the aggravation of the protagonist, tied to tradition and analytical. He hoped that whoever you were in chains with took the liberty of cleaning your open wounds like he did. 

Apparently, the sting of disinfectant is enough to rouse the unconscious awake, as the liquid being pressed to your skin made you jolt back to the present, sucking in air between your teeth and nearly kneeing him in the nose. You rushed to sit up as properly as you could, bringing your legs to your chest.

“What’re you doing?” The pain must’ve been worse in this state. He suddenly felt very, very bad about not waiting until you were awake to take care of it, but he remembered that you couldn’t make proper decisions for yourself like this. He wet another pad, though warily. Who was Egon to say that he could make proper decisions for you, sober or otherwise?

He approached you gently, showing you his materials. “Sanitizing. It could get infected.” Maybe that was a bit overzealous, but germs love untreated, open flesh.

You calmed, letting your legs dangle over the bedside again, the exaggerated idea of losing a leg scarier than the cleaning agent in his hand. “Oh.” He figured you were sobering up, even by a bit, from the way your words slurred less and you clung Ray’s blanket to yourself, night’s activities catching up with your tired body. You looked around as he worked quickly, taking in the room.

“You’re messy.” Egon raised his eyebrows once at that, prepping another pad.

“We’re scientists. And Peter.” He could hear you laugh weakly above him. It felt nice, to make you feel nice. Egon felt oddly at ease, on his knees, cleaning you up- as dubious as it sounded. He moved on to your other leg, remembering your situation. “Would you like to stay here? Your friends aren’t home.”

Silence as he wiped away the grime. Your voice sounded again. “A sleepover.”

He resisted a yawn, letting it escape through his nose before catching sight of the clock. “Sure.”

You didn’t say anything else. Better for him- he was sure you didn’t have a key and he was a terrible locksmith. You were leaning back on your hands.

“My doctor.”

He bit back the smile and blush that spread over his face with a clench of his jaw. You were still drunk, no matter how coherent. And wrong. “Not yet a doctor.” He was done bandaging both your injuries some time ago.

“Doctor Egon,” you drew out the word, giggling to yourself. He’d let it slide, this time. Misused titles were disdainful in academia. But he supposed being a stickler didn’t matter so much, now.

Eventually, he rose to his feet, eyes honing in to a surface level scratch on your cheek from the fall. He held your jaw lighty, thumb careful to not graze too much over it. It wasn’t severe, but he assumed you’d prefer to not have a deep scar there for the entirety of the summer to come. He thought about summer. He’d be here, on an internship, while you’d be away, probably away with your friends again. You’d get drunk, seemingly trusting the people around you far too much until you’re hurt- worse than you are now. Whatever meathead you’d spent the night with wouldn’t know first aid if it was thrown at him. Egon soaked in his jealousy, eyebrows falling over his eyes, before coming back to his senses, soaking one more piece of cotton and gently tapping it to your face, a small adhesive placed to protect it. 

“Kiss to make it better?” He let go of your face, moving to the kitchen sink to wash his hands as you giggled to yourself again. It was awfully late, now.

“You should get some sleep,” he dried his hands off. He would miss you, but time was the only fool-proof remedy- and daylight was quickly approaching.

“No fun,” you complained, but you still settled into Ray’s bed, pulling the comforter around yourself. He contemplated what to do, get into his own bed or just wait for you to sleep instead. You rolled over to face him.

“Are you sure you don’t want my help with the play? I’m not supposed to, though. But I can do the voices.” Right. The play. He eyed the book, forgotten about in the corner of his desk.

“I’d rather you rest.” 

“You should sleep, too.” He could tell you were fighting your own exhaustion. He pulled out his chair, moving Ray’s coil to the side to make work of his assignment again. 

“I’d rather you did, first.” He opened to the page he left off on.

“Egon.” You sounded scarily sober. He turned in his seat to face you.

You freed yourself from the blanket a bit. “You’re tired. You always look tired.” Another state of inebriation was taking hold of you. Maudlin. You were drunk. It didn’t mean anything.

He chewed at the inner part of his bottom lip before speaking again. “You’re very stressed. And you’re going to wake up feeling like hell.” He searched for the right words to convince you to let yourself go. “I’ll sleep too, and we can talk to each other in our dreams.” A little ridiculous, but it’s not the craziest thing he’s said to a tippler.

The hammered part of you was contemplating it, before you smiled and nodded. Before he went back to his work, you called for him one more time.

“Egon?”

“Yes?”

“I need a lullaby.” You had the same devilish, teasing look in your eye as you did when you were sober. He looked around in confusion as you looked towards him expectantly, before he surrendered, winding up a small snow globe that Peter kept out, even in Spring. As it played, you shook your head.

“No, sing the one by Manfred Mann.” He grabbed the edge of the blanket, pulling it over your head as you laughed uncontrollably to yourself.

“Goodnight.”

Egon had fallen asleep over his book some time later. As he came to, he looked back, hopeful to still see you, sleeping soundly. His hope faltered as he took in the empty space, neither his roommates returned or your spot on Ray’s bed filled in by your shape. There was a strange emptiness in his chest, knowing you were gone in a matter of hours. The only proof of your presence was the used bottle of isopropyl in the corner of his desk.

His breath slowed, light of the early morning burning into his eyes as he slowly rose out of his chair. Walking off, not sure if he was going to shower, or eat, or what, he noticed a small paper on the pillow. He picked it up, wondering if it would disappear in his hands.

“Thank you, Doctor.” He folded it back. You were drunk. It didn’t mean anything. But he still smiled.

[agaypanic]

could you please do a chase davenport x musical reader ?? she’s constantly asking him “how does this sound” and blessing his ears with her voice. sometimes even asking him to help her play something only for his intelligence to shine and play every instrument perfectly much to her surprise. thanks a bunch !!

His Little Songbird (Chase Davenport X Singer!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Chase is the first person you go to for thoughts on something new you’ve written. He’ll do anything to keep hearing your voice.

A/N: i feel like if chase was dating a musical person/singer, hed totally call them his songbird or something equally as cheesy and everyone would think it’s cringey but his s/o would be giggling and shit. Made reader like semi-famous (she’s going on a tour) bc i think thats fun

***

Bringing Chase along on your first tour was probably the best decision you ever made. Being the smartest man in the world, he could handle any technical problem you were having in a flash. He was so supportive, always making sure you took care of yourself and watching every show without ever getting tired of hearing the same set over and over again. Plus, having your boyfriend with you while you traveled around the country was way better than having to text or call whenever you wanted to talk to him.

But one of the coolest things about having Chase with you was that he absolutely loved being the first person you went to when a new song popped into your head.

“Hey, Chase?” You called out, scribbling notes and words in your little notebook. You were hanging out backstage before a sound check and decided to do some writing.

“Yeah?” He answered, appearing by your side almost instantly. He crouched down next to you, glancing at your notes before looking up at you curiously.

“What do you think of this?” You asked, tilting the notebook so he could get a better look. Being a fast reader, he looked at the page briefly before looking back at you.

“Good rhymes.” He said. “Wanna try it?” You nodded, and Chase left, coming back with a guitar and chair. He got settled, and you held the book out for both of you to see. Having bionic super smarts, Chase could easily play any instrument. So whenever you wanted to see how something would sound, he quickly volunteered to grab whatever you had in mind to play along. It sort of made you wish that he would be on stage with you, but Chase insisted that he was better helping you behind the scenes.

Chase started strumming the chords you had written down, waiting for you to start singing. When you did, he had to power through his playing. Chase was always taken aback by your beautiful voice. If you had to take a shot for every time he fawned over your singing, you’d probably get alcohol poisoning in a day.

When you were finished, you and Chase had a small conversation about things to fix, playing the song over and over until you were satisfied. Then, when you were called over to do a sound check, you kissed Chase and gave him the notebook to put in your bag.

Hours later, your concert was in full swing. Chase watched your performance from backstage like he did every show, phone recording the entire time despite it being the same songs. And then, when you were finished, you ran to him like you did every show, and he picked you up and swung you around while telling you how great you did. You knew he actually paid attention because every time, he talked about a different moment that he deemed his favorite of your performance.

While you got changed into something more comfortable in your dressing room, your phone buzzed. Seeing it was a post notification from Chase, you opened it and smiled.

He had posted pictures that he had taken in the past couple of days. It was all mainly you. The two of you at a cute little local cafe. You posing next to your vinyls and CDs being sold at a store you went to to pick up some snacks. Doing your sound check and performance.

The last picture might’ve been your favorite. You were alone on stage, doing an acoustic version of a song you had written for Chase for your first anniversary. Although all of your songs were amazing in his eyes, this one would forever be his favorite. In the picture, you were looking to the side. Not at the camera, but at Chase, giving him a big, loving smile.

You liked the picture and then looked down at the caption.

chase.davenport: my little songbird <3