#just as i am also aware that i have probably tagged y'all in this before

[carly-they-jepsen]

@theedgeofnight @untakenbeepun​

if i could turn into an eel. well that'd be ideal.

[lowkeychenle]

Like We Just Met [ZCL] (M)

Description: Everything else about the day is completely normal when Chenle realizes he wants to marry you. It hits him like a tidal wave, and he's itching to tell you just how much he wants to love you forever.

Genre: Fluff (literally SO MUCH FLUFF we love Chenle in this house go away if you don't) // Smut

Content Warnings: Explicit unprotected sex (it's actually sweet this time am I feeling okay), talks about marriage etc etc. Nothing really dark or upsetting in here.

Word Count: 11,292 (y'all I have no idea how this happened...)

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader (feat. the rest of the Dreamies)

ISTJ 7Dream Series Masterlist

Juliet's Masterlist | Requests/Tell me what you think of this plz <3

Tag List (open for ISTJ 7Dream Series): @kunvibing

Author's Note: Lowkey? This was so fun because it's from Chenle's POV...or it's supposed to be haha. This is probably my favorite fic I've ever written catch me crying in the corner...also this gif don't mind the real tears in my eyes

Nobody questioned Renjun when he said he’d invited his friend to dance practice. They brought friends in every now and then, so it wasn’t anything new. Chenle was having a bit of an off day. He kept screwing up the choreography (that he’d done seven hundred times probably in the past week alone) and even accidentally elbowed Jaemin.

Renjun’s friend had yet to show up. Chenle was beyond frustrated with the way things were going, so he let everyone know he was taking a break. He grabbed his water bottle and stomped out of the practice room.

He ended up a bit down the hallway, resting his back on the wall with his eyes closed. All he needed was a break. That had to be it.

“Are you okay?” a soft voice asked.

When he looked at you, he recoiled a bit. He’d never seen you before—he’d definitely remember—but something about you felt familiar. Like a warm aura surrounded you and infiltrated him in the best ways.

“You’re Chenle, right?” You tilted your head at him. “I’m Renjun’s friend, (Y/N). I was supposed to watch practice, but I got lost. This building is pretty big.”

“Yeah, I’m Chenle.” He blinks at you a couple more times. “Um, we’re always in the same practice room. I’ll take you over there.”

“Actually, is there a place to get some water? I forgot mine at home.” You scratched the top of your head and scrunched up your nose. “It was really hot outside.”

“It’s on the way.” He gestured down the hall with his head.

You followed him without hesitation. He was acutely aware of every step you took, of how there was only a few feet between the two of you. Even though he had no clue what to say to you, you didn’t mind walking along in silence. It was unlike him to be shy. Next to impossible for him to be starstruck.

“How long have you known Renjun for?” he asked. And why the hell had you not come around sooner?

“Oh.” You took a deep breath and pursed your lips in thought as Chenle stopped to grab you a water bottle from the kitchen. “Four years now? Five? His family knows mine, so when I came back here, his parents told him he had to help me find my way around.”

“Well, today’s pretty laid back,” Chenle explains. “We’ll probably practice for another hour or two and then go home. We’ve been at it all day.”

You hum in response, opening the cap and taking a sip. “Thank you for this. Sorry to keep you from practice.”

“Don’t be. I’m ready to get the hell out of here.” Chenle chuckles, gaze drinking you in when you’re distracted by your water. “And…they can be a little…much at first. But they’re all great people, so you’ll be fine.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m nervous.” You narrowed your eyes at him playfully.

He bit back a smile, pressing his lips into a thin line instead. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Renjun has given me plenty of warnings,” you tell him.

He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t taken you to the practice room yet. The two of you stood in the kitchen, but he knew the second you were with everyone else, the conversation was over. He didn’t want to stop talking to you, and that odd feeling of warmth settled into his chest.

“Like what?” Chenle raised his eyebrows.

“He said you’re cranky and mean.” You smiled at him, and he swore he was almost knocked off his feet. There was something about you that drew him in.

Chenle made a mental note to scold Renjun later, but he’s not necessarily wrong…he was cranky until he saw you.

“Well, in that case, what he said about everyone else is probably accurate, too.”

“You don’t look cranky,” you interjected. “You’re not mean either. Mean people don’t get strangers water bottles.”

“I’m mean to Renjun. And Jisung.”

“They’re your friends. You get a pass for your friends.” You slid one of your hands into the back pocket of your jeans, rocking on the balls of your feet as silence befell the room.

“They’re waiting for me,” Chenle says. “We should go.”

You nodded in agreement and followed him. He sulked a bit when the other members were introduced to you. They were all nice—because they always were—but when it came time to get back to practice, he found himself gravitating toward you several times.

Nearly every time he looked at you, you were already looking at him, too. Maybe it wasn’t just him that felt the weird tug. He hoped it wasn’t.

After they wrapped everything up, Chenle sat against the back wall, feeling so heavy as if he could fall asleep right there. He was exhausted.

Jaemin, Jeno, Donghyuck, and Mark were already on their way out the door, leaving Jisung to slump next to Chenle and Renjun to talk with you. Jisung noted how he was watching you, but he didn’t say anything right away. He drank his water and stayed quiet.

You said something to Renjun, who smiled at you and nodded. He headed for the door and waited for you outside. When Chenle realized you were coming over to him, he shot a worried glance over at Jisung.

“Would you look at that?” Jisung cleared his throat. “Time for me to go.”

Before Chenle could even grab him, Jisung was halfway to the door. Once you were in front of him, you sat down and crossed your legs.

“You did really well today.”

He chuckled. “I think that’s the worst I’ve done this comeback season.”

“Then you’re in pretty good shape.” You shrugged, picking at the seam of your jeans. “I wanted to thank you. For helping me earlier.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” he said. “You’re Renjun’s friend. Of course, I’d help you.”

“Right.” You brushed your hair over your shoulder and prepared to stand up. “I should go—”

“Will you be coming back?” The question shot out of his mouth, sending a blush to his cheeks in response.

“I’m not sure,” you told him. “That’s up to Renjun I guess. It was really cool to see how passionate you guys are.”

“Let me give you my number.” Chenle grabbed his phone from his pocket. “Um, just in case you get lost again. And need help finding the room.” He cringed at himself, hoping he wasn’t going to get rejected.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You gave him the tiniest smile, but it made his heart flutter anyway.

He handed it to you with the contact app open. You didn’t even hesitate to type in your name and number. After, you sent yourself a text, and Chenle heard it ring in your back pocket. You gave it back to him, grinned, and left him sitting there in shock.

He couldn’t choose between staring at you as you left and looking down at your contact open on his screen. His stomach twisted with nerves, but the second he saw the smiley face emoji you’d put next to your name, he already knew.

You were going to be someone to him.

Mark drops something in the kitchen, snapping Chenle out of it. He looks at you, and you smile back at him. With you pressed into his side and your legs over his lap, he can’t help but grin right back.

His hand rests on your thigh, thumb sliding gently back and forth as he presses a kiss to your temple. He’d never get used to this.

After returning from the kitchen, Mark allows the game to resume. His nose scrunches as he glances between you and Chenle. “That’s a weird ass question.”

“Not weird.” Chenle shakes his head. “Critical thinking, Mark, you should try it.”

“Oh, be nice.” You shove his shoulder.

For a while now, Chenle has felt his feelings growing more than he thought possible. He’s already in love with you (thankfully, since you’ve been together almost a year now), but something about you lately has him on a whole other level. Even then, he’s not sure what it is. He decides he’ll ride it out for a while and see where it takes him.

“Why would you ask your girlfriend what year she’d take a time machine back to? Shouldn’t she be like…happiest now?” Mark asks, sipping on whatever mixed drink he’d prepared in Chenle’s kitchen.

“You’d think.” Chenle snorts, leaning back against the couch and throwing his arm around you.

“He asks me questions like this all the time,” you tell Mark. When you steal a glance at your boyfriend, his breath catches in his chest.

What the hell is going on with him lately? He can’t concentrate around you (even more than usual) and every tiny thing you do has his heart hammering against his ribcage. Soon enough, he’s sure you’ll both hear the bones crack.

“Has anyone, by chance, ever told you two that you’re gross?” Mark chuckles to himself and leans back in the recliner. “Some of us are single and lonely, you know.”

“Some of us will never be that again,” Chenle shoots back.

“Oh, you two are the worst.” Your laugh echoes pleasantly in his ears, and he subconsciously leans closer to you.

“I am curious what your answer is, though,” Mark interjects. “Since Chenle’s so sure.”

Chenle takes a sip of his own drink, nearly cringing at the bitter taste dragging down his throat. He’s not much of a drinker—social at best. But he can still appreciate the buzz and the hazy happiness that comes with it. You take his hand that dangles over your shoulder, twirling the friendship ring wrapped around his middle finger. The action is so, so simple, yet it makes his stomach turn.

If he doesn’t figure out what the hell’s going on with him soon, he’s gonna have to separate himself from you.

“Well, you’re right.” You shrug, shuffling closer to Chenle. “This part of my life has definitely been the best. But if I could go back to any time, it would probably be when we met. You only get to meet Zhong Chenle once in your life, dude. I’d do it over and over again if I could. The second I saw him, I knew he would be important to me.”

Chenle thinks back to the moment he first saw you. The way he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you like an actual child or the way he took in every detail of you to store in his mind forever—just in case he never got to speak to you again. He pauses, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he analyzes your answer.

Mark groans. “That doesn’t count! That was last year.”

Grabbing the pillow next to him, Chenle throws it at his friend. “Leave her alone, it was a good answer.”

But when he contemplates that thought, he’s not sure he understands what you mean. His ears burn, the tips of them turning red as he recalls how embarrassingly nervous he was around you all the time. How awkward all of your firsts together were. Everything now is so much better than back then.

Not to mention he’s looked at you the same way since that first night. His feelings for you have grown, sure, but those butterflies he used to get still torment him just about every time he sees you smile.

“Why?” Chenle finally asks.

“You were so cute,” you hum, shifting closer to him. “Everything made you nervous. You almost keeled over in embarrassment when you asked to hold my hand.”

Mark laughs, and Chenle sends a glare his way. No part of that is even anywhere near funny.

“Okay, it's your turn.” Mark gestures at you.

Chenle resists the urge to reach over and touch your face. Usually, he’s so much better about being so clingy in front of his friends and, while he would prefer Mark not seeing this side of him, he couldn’t care less when his gaze is locked with yours.

“Cool.” You nod, taking a sip of your drink. “Both of you. Hypothetical situation. Let’s say you’re drunk. You walk into a room and everyone you’ve ever loved is in there. Like…loved. Who are you going to?”

“Dude.” Mark’s jaw drops. “That’s such a shitty question for me.”

“You’ll live,” Chenle replies. “Just romantic love?”

“All of it. Platonic, romantic, family.” You purse your lips in thought.

Chenle doesn’t have to think about it. Not really. He’d rather get struck by lightning and then hit by a bus right after before admitting that so easily in front of Mark. In this case, it’s always been you. From the second you spoke to him for the first time, he was irrevocably yours. 

“You.” Chenle watches your eyebrows raise.

“Be serious,” you say. “Your parents are included in that.”

“I’m serious. You.” Chenle chuckles.

You give him a pointed look, but that’s when Mark cuts in.

“No, he’s for real. Like…that legitimately happened.” Mark leans forward, elbows digging into his thighs as he rests his head in his palms. “Do you guys not remember?”

“What are you talking about?” you ask him, frowning.

Chenle remembers. Barely, and it’s a bit foggy, but it comes back like a baseball bat upside the head as Mark starts telling the story.

Chenle’s birthday party last year. The night was barely halfway through and he was drunk enough to be stumbling over his feet. He’d heard you were coming, but he had yet to see you. Even when every other feeling was numbed by the tingling sensation the alcohol left behind, his craving to see you was all that remained. 

Mark walked next to him, having a full conversation with himself since Chenle was so fog-brained. As much as he loved Mark, there was only one person he wanted to see. Everyone he knew and loved was here—his parents, the rest of his group, and Jisung had somehow forgotten to uninvite Chenle’s ex.

He only ever dated one person before you, but he wasn’t sure he ever loved her. Regardless, there she was. Even with her standing across the room from him, he kept waiting like a lost puppy.

When you walked in, he swore the whole world stopped around him. Everyone but you was moving in slow motion before they eventually faded into nothing, darkness that was emphasized by the light you were. His breath caught in his throat, and he stopped walking.

Chenle couldn’t form a coherent thought while he stared at you, drunken stupor making it so much easier to forget the embarrassment. Mark watched him curiously as Chenle made his way over to you. He refused to waste any more time when he knew you were the one he wanted to talk to.

You had always been more confident around him than he was around you. Your face lit up when you saw him, wrapping your arms around him. He secured you in his grasp, breathing in the scent of your hair and the perfume you wore.

“Happy birthday.” Your voice is muffled a bit by his T-shirt. “Sorry I’m late, took a bit longer to get ready than I thought it would.”

He knew he should’ve let you go. People were starting to notice the way he was clinging to you, and not even being drunk could excuse that behavior. He was about ready to tell everyone except you to leave. Nothing else mattered. If he could spend his birthday with you, it would be the best one yet.

It’d been two months since Renjun had introduced you to the rest of them. Which means, he’s only known of your existence for two months, and you already command so much of his brain matter that he can’t think of anyone but you. Great.

He finally (reluctantly) let you go and led you over to the rest of the group. Nobody said anything when he made Mark scoot over so you could sit next to him. Nobody questioned it. His parents would ask him about it later, but until then, there was no reason for him to worry. After all, his crush on you was the most obvious thing in the world, so it was only a matter of time before you found out about it.

By the end of the night, he hadn’t spent enough time with you. People were starting to shuffle out, but you stayed, chatting with Renjun until only four remained. Chenle’s parents had gone to bed long ago. You were almost caught up to him on drinks, your laughs longer and your movements slower.

Under any other circumstances, he wouldn’t have been as brave as to walk up to you and ask you to stay the night. He didn’t mean it in a suggestive way, either. He just didn’t want you to leave yet.

“Chenle,” Renjun scolds, swatting his shoulder. “You can’t ask something like that so casually.”

“You want me to stay here? With you?” Your voice was higher than normal. Chenle accredited it to the alcohol raging in your system.

“I like when you’re here.” Chenle nodded. “You make everything calm.”

Renjun scrunched up his face, slamming his forehead into his palm. “(Y/N), you should probably go home—”

“No, it’s okay.” You brushed him off. “I’m okay with staying.”

Oh, he was in love with you. There was no other explanation for the way his heart skipped a beat when those words came out of your mouth.

Chenle doesn’t remember the rest of that night, but he does recall waking up next to you in the morning and freaking out. Alcohol made him brave, but it didn’t save him from the red-hot embarrassment of the next day.

“I didn’t even realize…” you trailed off, a small smile forming on your face. “You picked me.”

“I’ll always pick you,” Chenle responds easily, like second nature.

Mark decides it’s time for him to leave, but Chenle’s mind is still reeling with memories. With all of the firsts you said you wished you could relive. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t figure out what the fuck this feeling is. As the two of you climb into bed, he’s so distracted, he can’t fall asleep, even with you curled into his chest.

“(Y/N),” Chenle groaned when he saw you in the practice room mirror. “You gotta stop showing up here if you don’t want me to fall in love with you.”

It was a joke. Sort of.

“Right, and let you forget to eat? I think not.” You fought back every time, unphased by the way he so casually admitted he’s starting to fall for you.

At least, that was his idea of admitting it.

You walked over with the bags in your hand, sitting down on the practice room floor next to him. 

“I haven’t even been here that long,” Chenle defended himself. “I would’ve eaten after I left.”

You unloaded the contents, opening boxes. “I can go if that’s what you want.”

“Not what I said.” For some reason, he felt a sudden burst of courage. He’s known you for four months at this point, and something about today felt…right. “I was serious, you know.”

“About what?” You grabbed the drinks from the carrier.

“You.”

“What?” You recoiled, looking at him in confusion.

He contemplated telling you to forget it. That it didn’t matter, and thank you for the food instead. If you didn’t feel the same way for him, he’d be devastated. And then you’d leave him for good and take all the food with you. He was starving.

“If you keep doing nice things for me, I’m gonna fall for you.” As if he hasn’t already.

You paused, but Chenle didn’t miss the blush on your face. Clearing your throat, you looked away from him and took a deep breath. His fists clenched as he awaited your rejection, but the longer the silence stretched, the more he felt you might want him to.

“Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean it,” you finally said and brushed your hair behind your ears. Reaching forward for the food again, you gave Chenle a shocked look when he grabbed your wrist.

“You’re right. I’m not going to fall for you. I already did.”

Your jaw dropped, eyes widening as his words settled in the air around both of you. With his heart racing, he released your wrist and intertwined your fingers instead.

“I really, really like you.”

“You should really eat your food before it gets cold.” You pulled your hand from his and pushed the box closer to him.

He stared blankly at the wall, noting the sudden chill on his skin that you left behind. A sinking feeling encapsulated his chest, and he knew he ruined everything. You looked like you were ready to run.

“Forget I said anything,” he told you. “I’m sorry if that was weird.”

“Eat,” you commanded again. “I’m not talking about this with you until I know you’ve eaten. If you don’t, we’ll go off on a tangent and you’ll be starving all night.”

“Does that mean you—”

“Yes, Chenle.” You interrupted him. “Yes, I really, really like you too, which is why I want to make sure you eat.”

At that moment, Chenle realized that if he walked outside and randomly dropped dead, he’d be okay with it now that he’s gotten that confession out of you. There wasn’t a damn thing that could top that. Everything else in life would be subpar to today, so there was no point in trying.

You and Chenle ate in silence. He kept stealing glances at you, catching you doing the same to him. If all he had to do in order to get you to talk about your feelings with him was eat, he’d do it, albeit probably a bit too fast for his own good.

Chenle runs his fingers through his hair, his thumb tracing gentle shapes against the bare skin of your arm. These memories have no business popping up in the middle of the night. He has practice tomorrow. He’ll be so off his game, the other members will want to kill him.

Usually, he has no problem falling asleep, especially with you right beside him. Over the past year, you’ve probably spent more nights with him than you have at your own place. He teases you for it all the time, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Closing his eyes, he listens to the soft sounds of your breathing and allows himself to feel the way your body slots with his so easily. Everything about you is perfect. About the two of you together. He would toss and turn, but no way is he going to disturb you. Even if he can’t sleep, he’d never screw up your schedule on purpose.

“It’s so pretty.” You were in awe, staring at the sunset from Chenle’s backyard. He’d set up a picnic date for the two of you, and afterward, you were watching the sun fade below the treeline while lying on top of a red blanket.

His fingers were intertwined with yours, something that had become so normal for you. Two weeks since his confession, and it was the second date he planned. He wondered, obsessed over, even, what your thought process was on all of this. Were you happy? Did he make you happy?

He wanted to kiss you when he confessed to you. And while he came close to it on your first date, he decided against it. It had to be perfect. Nothing was good enough for you in his mind, especially when all he wanted was to make sure you knew just how he felt about you.

How was he supposed to tell you that?

He’d already said he fell for you, but that didn’t begin to cover it. Not really. You made him want to put in effort, made him crave your happiness like it was the very oxygen he breathed. At the same time, he didn’t want you to think he didn’t want to kiss you. Hell, he’d already dreamed of it, for fuck’s sake, so that definitely wasn’t the issue.

Lost in thought, he’s only snapped out of it by the way you rolled over, lying on your stomach so you can get a good look at his face. You rested your head on your right palm, your left finding his bicep.

“You’re so perfect,” he hummed, twirling your hair with his fingers. “Could look at you forever.”

“Some people might have an issue with that.” You laughed.

“We’re the only ones that matter,” he responded.

Your smile slowly faded, a look of longing replacing it as your gaze softened.

God, he wanted to kiss you. He needed to.

All thoughts of the perfect moment have fled from his brain. Any moment would be perfect as long as it’s you.

He sat up and you leaned forward, and before he knew it, his nose brushed yours. Your eyes fluttered shut in preparation. The heat of the sun sank into his skin. Your perfume wafted from you, intertwining with the air and suffocating him in the best ways. If he could pick one scent to smell for the rest of his life, it would be yours.

Was it normal to have these thoughts so early?

Why was he thinking of that right now? Literally the worst possible time.

“Can I?” he whispered, scared to ruin everything.

“Yes.”

As soon as the word left your mouth, he kissed you. Everything about you was soft, so he shouldn’t have been so surprised to find your lips the same way. His hands shook as he touched your waist.

He was already in big trouble. There wasn’t a single part of him that wanted to stop there. His heart thudded so loud, he was halfway sure you could hear it, too. It felt like sparks flew between you two, absolute electricity coursing through every single one of his veins, heating up his bloodstream and making the thought of pulling away from you the absolute worst case scenario.

You moved away first, gasping for breath. Chenle craved tugging you back to him. His body reacted to you in ways it had never reacted to anyone else. He didn’t want to take it too far, but he sure as hell didn’t want to stop, either.

He couldn’t describe the way you felt. The way you tasted. Everything about you was so heart-achingly perfect, he wanted to experience you all the time. He wanted to rewind time so he could kiss you again for the first time, and he’d do it over and over and over again.

Something about first kisses set him on fire. He was absolutely sure he’d kiss you more. In fact, he was seconds away from it. But the adrenaline coming from the very first brush of your lips on his wasn’t something he’d ever be able to recreate.

“Again.” You leaned in once more.

He met you in the middle eagerly, hand finding the back of your head before he turned you so you were lying on your back. Half of his weight pressed against you, but he did his best to keep himself lifted up so you weren’t uncomfortable.

Unforgettable heat swarmed him, the sun caressing his skin as your fingers gently traced down the back of his neck. Goosebumps formed, but he could hardly pay attention to them. The entire world was gone, and you were everything, the only person remaining in a sea of nothingness. He wanted you. Needed you.

This was technically your second kiss, but in his mind, it was still the first since they happened almost at the same time. He hadn’t stopped to take a breath in much too long, but he’d rather suffocate than separate from you.

He stopped when your breath hitched, completely lost in the sound. When he wasn’t focusing on your mouth anymore, he realized why—his hand had somehow found its way to your upper thigh. His face burned as he removed it.

“I didn’t…” he trailed off, scanning over your face for any hint of what you were feeling. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

You chuckled at him, pushing his shoulder. “You wish that excuse would work on me.”

The sky faded into a beautiful lilac color, the kind that only appeared when the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Clouds drifted effortlessly, stars beginning to shine.

“Should we go inside?” Chenle asked. “It’ll get cold without the sun.”

Whenever he looked at you, he knew you were different. He couldn’t place how, but nobody else had ever made him feel the way you do. Like his heart was going to burst out of his chest while simultaneously stopping and also skipping every other beat. He didn’t even know how he was alive anymore.

In the last two weeks since his confession, the boys had told him how much happier he was. How he was striving with more effort lately and trying his best at any given moment of the day. You were his motivation. You made him want to be the absolute best he could be, and even as new as the relationship was, he’d already known you for months—he was nervous about you deciding you wanted something else. Someone who wasn’t him.

The moment before replayed in his head, and he heard that breath hitch on repeat while he awaited your answer. He did his best to stop thinking about it, but nothing worked. All he wanted to do was kiss you again, over and over and over until the literal end of time.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Let’s go inside.”

His cheeks redden just thinking of that memory. The first time he ever kissed you, and he royally fucked up because his hand didn’t know how to stay put. At this point, it’s clear he’s not going to be able to fall asleep. He hates the idea of leaving you in bed alone, but he’s only going to disturb you if he doesn’t plan on sleeping.

Sliding away from you carefully, he quietly gets up and heads into the kitchen. He runs his fingers through his hair. His hands down his face. He must be sentimental today, because he can’t stop thinking about you for the life of him. Every memory from the last year pokes at his head, and he has no clue how to handle it.

Patting his cheeks, he heads over to the fridge to grab a water bottle. Photos of the two of you are framed up on the wall. There’s one picture in particular he always says is his favorite, but he refuses to tell you why.

The two of you were sitting on the floor, and you had the cutest glare on your face. He sees the adoration gleaming in your gaze even though you look about ready to strangle him. In your defense, you probably were. He lets out a tiny laugh, tracing over the frame. 

There’s even one with Chenle between you and Jisung, and a group picture with you and the boys. Chenle loves his friends dearly, and the way they’ve welcomed you with open arms says a lot about both your relationship with them and his potential future with you. Everyone in his life loves you. You’re the one they call when Chenle’s upset or if he’s off his game, and no matter when or where this is happening, you show up to make him feel better.

He could be having the worst day of his entire existence, and a simple ��I love you’ passing from your lips has him forgetting everything shitty about the world. Looking back at the pictures, he’s drawn back into memory.

He heard the birds outside his window before he saw the gleaming sun. His eyes fluttered open while he groaned quietly at the sudden change of brightness. Your body was like a fireball, your skin searing hot against his, but it did little to bother him. His groan turned into a sigh of content, and he wrapped his arms around you tighter. Fingertips trailing down your bare spine, he kissed your forehead.

Three months together, and every night spent with you made him fall deeper in love. He’d never known peace as he did at that moment. No interruptions, just the two of you basking in each other’s embrace.

He could’ve stayed like that forever—he wanted to, but glancing at the clock, he realized how close it was to noon. Jaemin would be there soon, and the last thing Chenle needed was him in his house when you were naked in his bed.

He reluctantly got up, dressing himself before grabbing some clothes for you. You have a drawer, multiple, actually, but he picked his own T-shirt for you to wear. When he made it over to you, you were stirring.

“You got up.” You pouted at him, staring at him through half-closed eyes. “And you have clothes on.”

Chenle laughed. “Sorry, love. Jaemin will be here soon.”

“It’s that late?” you asked.

Chenle nodded, setting the clothes down next to you. He kissed you softly, gently, a kiss so barely there it left you leaning forward to try to continue it. Cupping your cheek, he brushed his thumb along your skin.

You didn’t need help getting dressed, but he did it anyway. He loved the way you looked in his T-shirts, and even though it’s long enough to cover you, no way he’d risk it. Once you were finished, the two of you got ready for the day. You brushed your teeth together, he watched you brush your hair, and by the time you’re done, Jaemin was walking in the front door.

The three of you sat on the floor around Chenle’s coffee table, playing a game. He can’t remember what the game was anymore, only that you were terrible at it and that he loved winning.

Jaemin teased both of you the whole time, ruffling Chenle’s hair on multiple occasions. As much as he’d love to deny it, Chenle enjoyed that Jaemin liked the two of you together. It was almost like an affirmation, even if he didn’t need one.

Being the professional picture-snapper he was, Jaemin took the picture now hanging up on Chenle’s wall. You, with your arms crossed over your chest and a big pout on your face, and Chenle, smiling widely at you with such adoration in his eyes it should’ve been impossible.

“Lele?” Your soft voice breaks him away from his memory. He turns to you quickly, heart instantly halting in his chest when he sees his shirt on you.

“What are you doing up?” he asks.

“I was gonna ask you that.” You rub your eyes, feet shuffling on the floor as you walk over to him.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he replies and takes you in his arms with ease. “Didn’t want to bug you, sunshine.”

You don’t respond. All you do is bury your head in his chest and breathe him in. He runs his fingers through your hair, kissing the top of your head. With all the lights off, the only illumination is the full moon outside as it casts shadows on the ground. The faint blue makes you that much more ethereal to him.

“You okay?” he whispers.

“Mm,” you hum in response. “This is nice.”

Chenle smiles. “Yeah, it is. Always is.”

After a bit of silence and rocking you gently, an idea sparks. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding the playlist he made specifically for when he thinks about you, and sets it on the counter. You stare at him in tired confusion, but when one of his arms wraps around your waist, you catch on.

“What are you doing?” Humor is laced in your voice, but the sweet look on your face tells him his actions are making you happy. That’s his goal, constantly. All he wants is to make you happy.

“Checking something off the bucket list,” he replies, slowly turning you to the soft beat.

“Something’s missing,” you say as he twirls you.

He steals a glance at the way his shirt rides up your legs, showing just a peek of your panties beneath it.

“What?” he asks, pulling you back to him.

“Sing to me.” You place your hand on his chest.

His heart betrays him at that moment. It rages, and he knows you can feel it. Chenle sings in front of thousands of people all the time, but something about you is different. Something about you right now is different.

“What’s going on up in there?” You run your fingers through his hair. “You’ve been all weird today.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admits. “Everything. From the moment we met up until this…it keeps repeating over and over again.”

“Welcome to my world,” you replied, grasping his shoulders. You massage them gently as you sway along with the music.

The confession from you makes him smile. At least he’s not the only one doing constant circles in his head. He calms a bit, and when a new song plays, he sings to you. Your body immediately relaxes into his, as if every stress you’ve ever had has left you without hesitation.

Chenle loves to sing. He does it all the time, and he only wants to keep getting better. To have someone like you as his partner, someone who supports him endlessly and genuinely loves his voice…it’s unparalleled.

He’s not sure how long the two of you are like this, or how long he’s singing for, but song after song, all he knows is that you’re smiling. You’re looking at him with unmatched adoration in your eyes, pure love. Nobody else has ever looked at him in this way, and he doesn’t want them to.

He wants to stay here with you and watch you love him in ways he’s never been loved before.

He stops. His singing fades out, and he furrows his eyebrows as he finally, finally realizes what’s been happening to him. You tilt your head, able to ask him questions without saying anything. His chest feels like it’s going to burst.

You’re it. 

You’re everything, and he’s going to marry you.

He’s going to spend the rest of his life striving to make sure you love him as much as you do right now, if not more.

It seems like you feel it, too. Your face softens and you reach up to trace along his cheekbone. He leans into your touch, chasing the warmth like it’s the last time he’ll ever feel it.

“I…” He takes a deep breath, shaking his head slowly. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”

“I know.” You grin so wide, Chenle almost thinks it’ll split your face in two.

“Good.” He brushes your hair behind your ear. “I hope I’m doing a good job in showing you that every day.”

You pause, hands trailing down from his cheeks to his shoulders. “I have never once doubted that you love me, Lele. Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“I promise you I’ve never felt better,” he replies. “Just checking in with you.”

“You do so much more than you realize. No matter how busy you are, you text me to tell me you love me or that you’re thinking about me. You practice non-stop with the boys but you still make an effort with me when you could easily use that as an excuse. There is not one thing I could ask for that you don’t already do.” You press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll never doubt you.”

“Sometimes I worry,” he admits. “You make me…want to be better. In every way possible. In my career, in my life, with you. And if I’m not being better every day, then I don’t deserve you.”

“Chenle.” You give him a pointed look. “When I think back to the first day we met, I remember how…how you acted from the first time you spoke to me. At the time, I really thought I was crazy, but I knew you’d be someone to me. You didn’t even know me, but you were so kind. And now that we’re here like this, you haven’t changed. There’s no getting better. You’re already the best.”

“How do you do that?” He chuckles, kissing your forehead.

“Do what?”

“Know exactly what to say.”

“That’s my special talent,” you tell him.

“We should get back to bed,” Chenle says, sleep weighing on him. “Meeting the boys tomorrow.”

He grabs his phone from the counter, his heart full and warm as he leads you back to his bedroom. This time, as he’s lying with you pressed to his chest, he’s able to fall into his dreamland.

Despite his lack of sleep, Chenle is full of energy the next day. He wakes up and makes you coffee just the way you like before sitting on the edge of the bed by your sleeping form. When he sets the cup on the nightstand, you stir, turning over to face him.

“You’re gonna be late,” you mumble, even though you have no idea what time it is.

Chenle chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay? You can stay here if you want. Wanted to tell you I love you before I left.”

“Love you, too,” you say with a tired smile, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Drink your coffee before it gets cold. I’ll grab dinner for us on my way back.”

Walking away from you feels like someone’s trying to rip his heart out of his chest. You’re an extension of him at this point, and after his sudden realization last night, all he wants to do is spend the day curled up with you.

Luckily for him, his day passes by pretty quickly. He got a lot done today, and he was proud of that. You’d be proud of him, too. He’s itching to get home and tell you everything that happened. Staying true to his word, he picks up your favorite takeout.

He’s going to be honest with you about what was going on with him yesterday. It’s the right thing to do—and in a perfect world, you’ll feel the same way he does. He hasn’t felt this nervous since he admitted his feelings for you. Even though that side of him feels worlds away now, he remembers it like it was yesterday.

But the restaurant isn’t the only stop he makes.

He’s shaking by the time he gets back. Is a year really enough time? It is for him, but what if you think he’s insane?

When he arrives, he’s not expecting what you’ve done at all. The main lights are off, but a dim golden glow from the strips along the wall and the candles illuminate the room enough. He sets the bag down on the table, completely forgetting about the food as he searches for you.

“(Y/N)?”

“You’re earlier than I thought you’d be,” you tell him, walking out of his bedroom while still putting in an earring.

His throat dries. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words could ever justify the way you look right now. You put on a dress, one of his favorites, and he’s in jeans and a T-shirt.

You kiss his cheek. “I figured you deserve something nice to come home to.”

“You’re my something nice.” He wraps his arm around your waist. “Should I change?”

“We’re not going anywhere.” You shake your head. “Just relax and enjoy your gorgeous girlfriend.”

“Oh, I can get on board with that.” He allows you to lead him back to the table.

Once he’s taking the food out of the bag, he keeps stealing glances at you. You put in all this effort for him, and he knows how much work it must’ve been to hang up all these lights. The golden glow looks ethereal against your skin.

“Before we eat, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” He clears his throat to stop it from collapsing in on itself, but it doesn’t work.

“What’s up?” You set your elbow on the table and rest your head on your palm. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s perfect, actually.” He takes a deep breath, reaching to grab your free hand. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You bite back a laugh.

“You can’t make fun of me for what I’m about to tell you.” He gives you the most serious look he can muster, and you nod.

“I wouldn’t do that,” you reassure him. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I…I want to love you forever.” He gulps. “And when I think of everything we’ve gone through and been through together, I seriously can’t imagine ever trying to have anyone else fill this spot you hold in my life.”

You perk up a bit, gaze staring into his. God, he loves how interested you are in what he has to say. How you’re listening to him so intently. His thumb rubs over your knuckles as he tries to think of the words he wants to use.

“I want to marry you. Call me crazy if you want, tell me you hate the idea, that’s fine, but I had to tell you. We obviously can’t get married now, or probably any time soon because of my contract, but I want you to know that it’s what I want. It’s what’s going to happen if you want it, too.”

You clear your throat and cover your mouth with your hand, eyes welling. Chenle’s heart aches seeing this reaction, knowing you feel as strongly as he does. He reaches into his pocket and puts a small box on the table in front of you.

“It’s not the real thing. Not yet. But I want you to know how serious I am, because if I was able to marry you, I would’ve done it yesterday.” He opens it, revealing a simple band in it. “Subtle enough where people won’t ask questions, but we’ll know.”

“Chenle, are you being serious right now?” You sniffle. “This is a very cruel prank.”

“The guys and I sat down together today to write a song. I think you’ll love it, so when we record it I’m sneaking you a copy. Anyway, we were there for twenty minutes, and words were just flowing out of me. I wrote about you. About how you make me feel, and I think anyone who knows about us will understand that when they listen to the song.”

He pauses to swallow past the lump in his throat.

“I want you. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life proving to you why I deserve that. Let me put this ring on you, and this can be the start.”

You quickly wipe your face as you nod. He takes your left hand, grabs the ring out of the box, and slips it on your middle finger.

“One day, this will be real.” Chenle catches another one of your tears. “I love you. There is not one thing in this world that could change that.”

His heart pounds in his chest as he watches your reaction. He wants to touch you and kiss you after pouring his thoughts out to you, but he needs to make sure you’re feeling the same way. The last thing he wants to do is overwhelm you.

His palms are sweaty and he can barely sit still. You groan, giving one last aggressive swipe below your eyes before you launch up from your chair and end up in his lap. You bury your head in his neck, squeezing him tighter than you should. He instinctively wraps his arms around your waist, softly chuckling at your outburst.

“You better not change your mind.” Cupping both of his cheeks, you try your best to look angry. “If you do, I’m marrying you anyway.”

His own vision blurs at the sight of you. You love him as much as he loves you, and you want to be with him forever.

You want to be with him forever.

The emotions rioting inside him surprise even him, and he blinks quickly to try and suppress the tears. It’s no use, because as soon as you notice, you start crying again. He groans and drops his head back on the chair, squeezing you closer to him.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Chenle says.

“Kiss me, you idiot.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His mouth finds yours, both of you falling into each other’s rhythm. Saltiness from your tears lingers on your lips. He weaves his fingers through your hair, but no matter what he does, you’re just not close enough.

Pulling away from you, he rests his forehead on yours. “You should eat, sunshine.”

“You expect me to be able to eat after all of that?” You furrow your eyebrows. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

“You’ll be sad if it gets cold,” he reminds you.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be sad again,” you whisper.

All thoughts escape him. Nothing else exists except for you, wrapped around him like a damn koala bear. He rests his hand on your thigh and lets your words sink deep into him.

Moments like these are hard to explain, he thinks. He’s only like this around you, so lost in his connection with you that he’s got nothing else on his mind. Anything and everything you say to him is tattooed in the darkest ink on his soul, until he’s covered in everything he wants to be for you.

“Promise me you’ll always look at me like that.” You break the silence, running your fingers through his hair and smiling.

“I promise.” He nods, barely realizing how he’s leaning forward.

Your eyes flutter shut as he inches closer. He kisses you softly, almost as if he fears he’ll break you. His fingers splay out across the small of your back and he traces shapes into the soft fabric of your dress. You’re overwhelming. His love for you is, too. So much so, he feels as if he’s going to burst out of his skin. He’s going to wake up and everything will have been a dream, because there’s no way he’d ever done anything in his life to deserve someone like you.

You hum into his mouth, rolling your hips once. His breathing stutters as his first instinct is to lift toward you. At first, he wants to stay like this, you clinging onto him like you’d be lost without him, but when you grind down a second time, he feels a twitch in his pants.

It’s been over a week since the last time he’s been inside you thanks to his schedules. And now you’re on top of him, wearing his favorite dress of yours, and kissing him like you’ll never be able to feel him again after tonight.

He’s tired, but he’s never too tired for you. Brushing your hair away, he leans down to kiss your neck, licking the expanse of your soft skin. Your pulse thunders beneath his tongue, and he has to fight the urge to bite down.

Touching you like this is different when he knows he’ll never lose you. You’re his forever.

His lips press against the sensitive spot below your ear, and the short moan escaping you just about sends him up the wall. When he pulls away to get a good look at you, your eyes are dark, lips already swollen from the way he kissed you.

He tries to catch his breath while he silently asks you if this is what you want. You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Standing, he lifts you up until your legs are secure around his waist, and he grabs your ass with one hand and the back of your head with the other.

Mouths attached, he doesn’t separate from you until he’s setting you down on his bed. He barely has time to appreciate the candles you lit in here, too, the soft scent of vanilla flooding his senses. You already try to push his T-shirt up, anything to feel his skin on yours. He obliges, pulling it over his head before returning to kissing you like his life depended on it. When your hands find the button on his jeans, he grabs your wrist.

“Patience, baby.” Chenle runs his fingers up and down your thigh. “We have the rest of our lives. Let me take my time with you tonight.”

Just like that, you’re putty in his hands. He smirks at the realization. Sneaking his touch up your leg, the hem of the dress moves to accommodate him. He stops when he feels the lace of your panties.

“Did you dress up for me twice, sunshine?” he hums.

“Always,” you say, shamelessly staring at his lips. “Do you love me, Chenle?”

His whole body vibrated from those words. They made him feel at a frequency he hadn’t quite reached yet, and all he wanted to do was rip that damn dress off.

“More than anything.”

He can’t really say it’s ‘like second nature’ anymore. There’s nothing second about it. This is you. Anything to do with you is first nature, no matter what it is. His world revolves around you, everything he does is based on what you want, and he wouldn’t change that in any way.

“Show me,” you whisper, so intoxicating he almost crumbles to his knees right in front of you.

How embarrassing that all it takes is two words to have him give in to you. He’s straining against his pants now, his cock aching to be free and buried inside you.

“Don’t worry. I will.” He kisses you again, soft and sweet like his hand isn’t so, so close to your dripping, eager core. Heat radiates from you, and all he wants is to be consumed by it.

He drags your panties down your legs, nails gently scratching your skin on the way down. Your chest rises and falls quickly as you try to regain your breath, but he loves the way you’re so desperate for him. The way you want him just as much as he wants you.

He doesn’t want to be patient anymore. Every cell in his body is urging him to connect with yours, but he wants to take care of you. That side of him always wins, otherwise both of you would probably be done already.

His finger dances along your entrance. He inhales sharply as your wetness coats his skin. You move your hips toward him, practically begging him for stimulation. He teasingly nudges your clit, pleasantly surprised by the way your body jolts.

Mouth brushing yours, he takes the second of distraction to slide two fingers inside you. As your lips part to release a moan, he mirrors the action, eyes fluttering shut as he slowly, slowly thrusts his hand.

Your walls squeeze so hard, he curses. He could fuck you a thousand times, and you’d still be as tight as you are right now. His heart goes straight into overdrive, but all the blood in his body is shooting down to his cock. He’s painfully hard, rocking back and forth gently.

He kisses you, lips working against yours in a perfect harmony. Your sounds are his favorite. He loves knowing it’s him making you feel this way, that he has the power to make your knees weak and your pussy throb.

He lets out a moan when he scissors his fingers, trying his best to prepare you. God, you’re so warm and wet and tight, he isn’t sure if he’ll be able to last long tonight. His pace quickens, sounds of your slickness filling the room.

You call out his name, back arching as you grasp desperately at his shoulders. He leans in and kisses your cheek, making sure to press his palm into your clit every time he’s knuckle deep. 

“You’re perfect, baby,” he whispers with his lips against your ear, voice rough. “I love you so much. So fucking much.”

You tense, pussy clamping down hard on his fingers as your hips buck. He swears he can see the pleasure running up your spine in the way you arch and shake. Your nails dig into his shoulders, but he’s not in the right mind to care. Your mouth opens, sounds pouring out as you finish. He loves you all the time, but one of his favorite looks on you is when he watches you orgasm—your face so overcome with pleasure he caused…he would never get enough of it.

He keeps moving until he’s sure you’ve come down from your high. When he brings his fingers up to his mouth to suck your juices off, you watch longingly, the dark look in your gaze enough to have his cock twitching in his pants.

You slide off the bed, forcing him to take a couple steps back. He’s not sure what you’re going to do at first. Your struggle to reach your zipper, and as much as he wants to bend you over with the dress still on, he wants to be gentle with you tonight. He doesn’t get to make love to you often, and that’s all he’s going to do tonight.

Instead of watching you attempt to reach it, he turns you around and pulls you to him until your back is against his chest. His hand is splayed out across your stomach, holding you so you feel how hard he is.

“I’m going crazy,” you mutter, dropping your head back. “I need you so bad.”

He moves your hair out of his way, kissing the base of your neck quickly before he unzips you. Moving slowly on purpose, he lets his finger drag along your spine on the way down. You shiver, pushing yourself back into him.

“I’m gonna make love to you.” He finally lets himself bite down on your shoulder as he nudges the straps down. “For the rest of our lives. Nobody but me.”

“Nobody but you,” you respond, allowing the dress to pool at your feet.

He turns you around, hands immediately finding your ass and squeezing it. Within seconds, he has your bra unclasped and across the room. “So beautiful.”

When your hands find his jeans, he doesn’t stop you this time. You push them down his legs, desperate to have him inside you. Once his jeans are off, you palm him through his boxers, and he needs you so badly, that simple touch almost finishes him off. That would’ve been embarrassing.

He takes off the remaining fabric separating you two before leading you over to the bed. You lie in the middle, and he climbs on top of you. He kisses you passionately, tongue already dancing with yours, both of you more than ready. His cock is so hard, he’s only half convinced he won’t cum as soon as he’s in.

He nudges your clit with his leaking tip, moving down to your entrance to apply just enough pressure before pulling away. You whine, desperate for more.

“Chenle, please.”

His head dips down as he continues teasing you, wrapping his lips around your nipple. You whimper, running your fingers through his hair. Having you so desperate for him makes him want to give you everything you’re asking for, but something makes him wait.

“Please,” you cry out, lifting your hips up. “Need you.”

He’s ready to fall apart from you words alone. Pulling away from your chest, he reaches down to line himself up with you. He watches you closely as he pushes his throbbing cock into your quivering pussy. Your eyes roll back as you arch into him.

Your walls swallow him, velvet clamping down on him. He clenches his jaw as he bottoms out and fists the sheets next to your head.

“So perfect,” he whispers, kissing your jawline.

One of his favorite things about you is how unafraid you are to look at him. Pleasure weighs on your eyelids, and you try your best not to close them, but even like this, you never look away.

He’s fully inside you, his cock seated within your fluttering walls. The last thing he wants to do is overwhelm you, so he gently rocks his hips to help you adjust. He kisses you everywhere he can reach.

“You always take me so well,” he praises you, nipping the base of your neck.

He’ll never get over how perfectly he fits between your legs, like this space was made for him.

“Move,” you tell him, smacking his shoulder.

He lets out a soft chuckle, but lowers his mouth to yours as he starts a steady pace. You squeeze him so tight, it’s like your body doesn’t want to let him out of you. He pulls out until his tip is barely inside, and then pushes back in just as slowly. It wreaks havoc on your body, your wetness squelching every time he moves.

He wants you to feel all of him. Feel the entirety of his cock rubbing your walls with every thrust.

Somehow, it’s hotter this way. A thin sheen of sweat covers his skin as he takes his time with you. Sure, he gets sweaty when he fucks you, but nothing compares to the close intimacy of love making—his chest brushing against yours with every thrust, long, sweet moans filling the otherwise quiet bedroom.

“You sing so pretty,” Chenle mutters, tonguing the sensitive spot below your ear. “You like the way I feel?”

Before he can even process what you’re doing, you wrap your legs around his waist and roll until you’re on top of him. He’s flat on his back, eyes flitting along your body like he hasn’t had a real chance to see it yet.

Candle light illuminates your skin, and the sight makes his cock twitch. He runs his hands along your sides, squeezing your hips.

Chenle likes being in control. He likes guiding you in a way that has you both in shambles by the end, and he truly underestimated how beautiful you’d look on top of him. You lift up, teasing him as slow as he was moving with you, but between the sight and the feeling, he feels an all too-familiar tingling sensation at the base of his length.

It’s too soon for him, so he decides to tug you down, holding you there while his eyes close and his head thuds against the mattress. He doesn’t need to say a word to you.

“Chenle.” You stroke a hand down his chest. “It’s okay. You don’t need to hold back for me.”

“Just…need a second.” He gulps.

When he finally catches his breath, he sits up, chest pressing against yours.

“This was supposed to be about you,” he says, moving back slightly to fit his hand between the two of you. “Showing you my love and everything.”

He finds your clit with his thumb, staring at you intently as your wetness makes it easy for him to rub circles. His other hand still firmly grips your waist, which only allows you to squirm instead of bouncing on him like you crave to do.

“I need to move,” you whimper, grinding down. “Please.”

He nods, loosening his grip on you. You brace yourself on his shoulders, finally taking his cock the way you want it. His nails dig into your thigh while he continues his work on your bud, and it only spurs you on. You move faster, no doubt trying to chase your orgasm.

His moans get louder, matching yours. If his hands weren’t so occupied, he’d want to squeeze your ass or tweak your nipples. Anything to bring you higher. He changes the patterns his thumb rubs, and it’s like a jolt of electricity runs through your body.

You curse, dropping your head on his shoulder as you nod. “Don’t stop, Lele.”

With both of you hanging so close to the edge, he waits until you’re sitting back down on his cock to buck his hips up. He doesn’t want to finish first, but he’s so close, all the warning signs of his impending high are getting far too real.

“Gonna cum,” he tells you, releasing your thigh to grab your ass.

Your walls clamp down on him hard, a long, pleasured sound escaping you as you grind down on him. Back arching, your head falls back. Your orgasm hits both you and Chenle like a freight train, and within seconds, everything inside him explodes, and he’s spilling his cum deep inside you while telling you over and over again that he loves you.

You crumple into his chest. He runs his fingers through your hair, whispering praises to you between head kisses.

“I’m gonna lay you down, sunshine,” he says.

You nod, and he turns you so he can put your back on the mattress. He carefully pulls out of you, putting his boxers back on before going into the bathroom to grab you a towel. This is one of his favorite ways to see you. Your eyes are closed, hands on your cheeks. You look like he’s fucked all the energy out of you, and he loves that he has the capability to do that.

He cleans you up, then grabs a clean pair of panties for you and one of his T-shirts.

“I have an idea,” he says.

“What is it?” You wrap your arms around him.

“You pick whatever movie you want, and I’ll go warm up your dinner?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

You fake a gasp. “Are you saying you’re going to feed me in bed?”

“After all of that, I’d agree to just about anything you want.” He chuckles when you shove his shoulder. Grabbing your hand, he twirls the band on your finger. “Wait here for me?”

When he walks out of the room, he stops at the doorway to watch you excitedly lunge for the remote. It doesn’t take long for him to warm up the food, turn off the lights, and blow out the candles in the kitchen.

The rest of the night is spent with the two of you sitting against the headboard, laughing along to your favorite movie while eating your favorite takeout. So many thoughts have come and gone from Chenle’s brain in the past couple days alone, but he’s more than happy he gets to sit here with you every night for the rest of his life.

He’s lost in your laugh and the way you smile at him and how you make his heart race with the simplest things. None of the other members knew about the ring he bought you, but he’ll tell them soon.

After the food is gone, Chenle cleans it up. There’s still half a movie left, so when he gets back, he pulls the comforter back so you can cuddle up to him for the remainder. Even though the candles have long since been put out, vanilla still clouds the air.

“Love you,” Chenle whispers, kissing your temple.

“Love you, too.” You sigh in content, resting your head on his chest.

He knows that means you’re only seconds from sleep, and he rubs your arm soothingly. The movie continues to play, but neither of you are paying attention anymore—you’re asleep, and Chenle’s thinking about what kind of wedding dress you’ll wear.

[cfr749]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by the wonderfully kind and lovely @coraclavia. If you haven't checked out her work, go do it right now!!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 19

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 354,235

3. What fandoms do you write for? The Rookie!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Beneath Your Beautiful... queue Isn't it ironic by Alanis Morissette 😬

Want You to Stay

However Do You Want Me

One Time Thing

Lucy's Little Secret

5. Do you respond to comments?

I absolutely try to, but sometimes I get behind. Tbh I usually want to respond the minute I see one come in, but don't want to scare anyone lmao. But I read every single one, often multiple times. And you might just get a response from me two years later 😂

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh man... I think this has to be We Built Sandcastles, because I have yet to give it an ending and it hurts me too. I'm so sorry. 😭

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I'm gonna go with However Do You Want Me... what's happier than banging on an airplane to save the world?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really... thankfully, 99.9% of the interaction I've had on my fics has been positive and that's a testament to how wonderfully supportive this fandom is of its creators 😭

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yup... the horny kind? Lol... queue Lovin on Me by Jack Harlow. I am pretty vanilla, and I do usually focus a lot on the emotional aspects over the physical. I also generally prefer writing the foreplay over the actual tactics of banging, but I try.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Lol... well... one time when I was 13 I may have written an AU where Justin Timberlake and Nick Carter were normal boys attending the same high school 😂...

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Thankfully, I don't think so!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? 

I don't think so, but any time someone does comment on one of my fics in another language, I am just honored and blown away that they found it entertaining enough to work through the language barrier.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! Want You to Stay with the amazing @poppypickle. I will always be so thankful that the Chenford fandom brought us together, and so grateful for that creative experience. Truly one of the coolest things I've ever done. ❤️

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I think Chenford still holds this crown.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

We Built Sandcastles, but I actually haven't written anything I've truly given up on. I still think about this universe and write down bits and pieces here and there. I'm also still working on Beneath Your Beautiful!

16. What are your writing strengths?

Weird reality TV AUs? Sexual tension? Feelings?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Probably too much exposition / time in the character's heads spelling out their motivations vs. letting readers come to their own conclusions.

I'm not always consciously aware of it in my own writing, but sometimes I suspect I'm a little sappier than what I'd normally I prefer to read.

Also I'm slow and sometimes leave my readers hanging for extremely long periods of time (I'm so sorry).

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Depends on the context, but, for me, I'd have a hard time without a native speaker to consult with. No strong feelings against it though.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

BSB + NSYNC

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I'm going to go with one I haven't mentioned yet, which is Cruel Summer because that fic was utterly batshit, came out of literally nowhere, and was so much fun to write!

--

Thanks for the tag, Cora!

I am tagging @poppypickle @queseraone @goodgirlssayiloveyoutoo @rememberthismomentx @thisnightissparkling089 @makeitastrength and @summerongrand (apologies if y'all have already done this and I missed it)!

[epickiya722]

I do not know if it was you, or another blogger that made a character analysis of Gojo that made me like the character and discover more about him through the manga.

While I never read the manga before or watched the anime, I had been exposed to it by my friends and some BNHA bloggers. Back then, I found Gojo to be overhyped (discount Kakashi) while liking the animation(?) style, bit still no interest.

BNHA and its Endeavour Redemption arc in the doing was tiring me to the point that I stopped reading it and manga altogether. For mayne six months or so, until now, at least. I randomly found your blog last week , and it got me a new hyper fixation 😃. You got me to start reading JJK (Megan cos playing also helps).

I bought Number 0 and Number 1 of the mangas. Only to remember midway in Number 0 that Walmart Kakashi will be snapped in two like a Kit Kat🥲. I saw that leak in one of the BNHA blogs, and I didn't mind it back then since I wasn't in the fandom, but Lord, now it sucks.

Anyways, all this long rant to say that I like reading your posts.

Gojo, rest in pain, I guess?

Probably was someone else, I don't write much analysis posts about Gojo. I think once or twice I did, I can't recall. Probably reblogged one though you saw!

I don't know, they're really just two different characters to me. Also... I was never really an active reader or watcher of Naruto like that (just very familiar) so when I first saw Gojo, Kakashi didn't register to me at all.

Like, I did not get similar vibes at all. And it actually annoys me that people will be like "He copied Kakashi's flow"! Kakashi ain't the only white haired, face covering character out there with magical eyes, y'all stop. 😆

Even funnier when, by this point, Gojo has probably been unmasked more than he has been wearing something on his face and switches up what he puts on his face. Kakashi been wearing the same mask for...? Also, didn't it take years for Kakashi's whole face to be shown or something? Took like seven episodes for Gojo to show that face.

**

I always been a fan of Megan's music and then when I found out she was into anime I was like "YYYYYEEEEEAAAAH". She cosplayed as Miruko one Halloween and it made my year. I am a former believer that Miruko would vibe to her music.

Just seeing other Black women being unapologetic fans of anime (or anything) does wonders for me and I hate it when people act as if it's such a foreign idea to understand. Honey, we can have interests, too, like everyone else. It's normal.

**

I always try to be careful about spoilers for anything I'm into. Like, I can talk about a chapter that happened two years ago, but I'll still mark as a spoiler because I know some people don't read Mangas or even if they do haven't caught up to that specific part.

That actually what set me off when Usher cosplayed as Gojo because he literally put "rest in peace, Gojo" or something along those lines and the amount of people who weren't even aware of 236... like bro, come on.

I knew it just had to be a marketing tactic because I know damn well Usher ain't seen JJK a day in his life and how convenient it is he comes out with that cosplay around the time when "Daddy's Home" becomes a fairly popular song used in Gojo's edits. I can't go watching one video on YouTube without hearing that song play when Gojo pops up. And even if he has... WHY WOULD YOU TAG IT LIKE THAT?!

Oh, but Megan definitely doesn't know any of the characters she be cosplaying, alright... okay... 🙄

I'm just going off on a whole tangent here, I apologize for that. I've been sick for like three days and just woke up from a nap. 😅

**

Also, thank you! Glad you enjoy my posts!! Anytime anyone says they like reading my posts, I still get shocked. They're really are just random thoughts I been having and really I'm still learning grasping the characters and story myself. And this is just for any. I don't even for them to get read, let alone for anyone to actually agree with me. I guess because, at the end of the day, I really just needed to throw a thought out there before I lose it or keep rethinking about it over and over.

[anincompletelist]

wip wednesday! :D

HELLO !!! happy wednesday (aka my favorite day of the week) and THANK YOU to @kiwiana-writes (I will beat you to the tag one of these days I SWEAR) @rockyroadkylers @heybuddy-drabbles for the tags, I am obsessed with what y'all have been sharing lately !!!!! :')

I'm fully aware that I'm sharing more than I'm probably supposed to but I also don't think there are any rules about that so. enjoy! (?)

xx

--

The last thing Alex remembers is the wedding. A private plane and a briefing on the royal family, a pressure at the back of his neck that made his jaw ache, right between the muscles at the base of his shoulders and up through his skull. He remembers dizzily stepping off the tarmac and being pushed into the back of an SUV, remembers Amy asking if he was okay. He remembers his legs aching worse than the time he nearly broke one of them in lacrosse, remembers panicking when he discovered he was out of painkillers. He remembers leaning halfway on June’s shoulder as they shook hands with all of the important guests, asking Nora if she had any more water and her concerned gaze as they stepped into the ballroom. 

Even now, Alex remembers feeling helpless. His tongue had seemed too thick and dry for his mouth as he was reminded to socialize, recalls that he was pushed toward the front of the room in the direction of Prince Henry and made his way over on stumbling feet. 

Despite how blurry it all was, he remembers Henry’s clear blue eyes and the dip of his brows once Alex approached, the way he’d reached out to steady Alex with a hand on his shoulder. His lips had been moving but Alex couldn’t hear him. He remembers trying to tell him that something was wrong but he’s not sure if anything actually came out of his mouth. 

Just as the ringing in his head soared to an all-time high, he remembers stumbling forward into Henry’s shoulder and Henry’s arms around him as he fell, but it’d been too late. They slammed into the table and then immediately backward, as the massive eight-layered wedding cake toppled and covered them both from head to toe. 

He remembers blinking dazedly and reaching a shaky hand toward the cut on Henry’s cheek and his wide, worried eyes before everything finally went black.

--

bonus points if you can guess which wip this is kjshdkshj

TAGGING THESE BEAUTIFUL FRIENDS if y'all have anything that you'd like to share <3333 @affectionatelyrs @read-and-write- @happiness-of-the-pursuit @firstsprinces @littlemisskittentoes @wordsofhoneydew @magicandarchery @hgejfmw-hgejhsf <333

I hope all of you have been doing well! :D

[bones4thecats]

It is currently 3:54 in the morning where I'm at and I haven't slept one bit.

I have literally been sitting in my bed for over 5 hours reading a bunch of fanfic, listening to music, and watching maybe to much youtube. I need to set up a medical appointment soon, suspecting I have a hormonal issue that is making my 'times of the week' a lot more difficult to bear. By that, I mean by I don't get them for almost 1/2 of a year, and when they return they are a son of a fucking bitch to handle. Basically, cramps have kept me up and I just wanted something to do out of sheer boredom.

Anyways, I have a surprise coming out here soon. It's about requests and my fandoms. So, stay tuned. Y'know what screw it I'll just announce it now.

(I'm literally pouring what I'm thinking onto my keyboard and on this post so bear with the confusion and small rant plz)

Now to the surprise. I am possible

Hint the word

POSSIBLY

adding two previous fandoms back onto this list. While the names are not going to be revealed yet, I will make the post tags lists and the characters as well and have the announcement with their names come out right before posting them.

Also, I am posting a couple things from my Upcoming Pieces List because I have been needing to get that thing trimmed down for a while but have been busy with having requests come through first.

Okay I'm gonna make this quicker because my pelvic area feels like it wants me to suffer the physical amount of pain that I felt after watching Optimus die in the og series' movie.

These parts'll come out here soon and I will end up releasing a monthly schedule that shows days I plan on having requests open and I'll probably have vacation days on there as well. P.S: be aware that I may be posting random shit about 'The Dark Crystal'

Idk why but I watched a video made by TheOdd1sOut and have practically fallen head-over-heals for the movie. I literally saw the puppets and went 'childhood nostalgia: unlocked'. You guys should also go check out TheOdd1sOut, the guy is a boss when it comes to making entertaining content for somebody like me to watch. I watched like 3 minutes of his review of 'The Dark Crystal' movie from 1982 and went;

Just a heads up! Now, enjoy the rest of your morning/nights. Idk where y'all live so pick one ig... I need some goddamn sleep... if anyone has a solution to a comfortable sleeping position when on your period please leave a comment for me to see because I NEED THE REST. MY SLEEP SCHEDULE IS SHITTING BUT THIS IS WORSE THAN NORMAL.

Or if you have another over the counter medication name that helps with periods (other than Midol, I need to get more soon)

Thanks y'all for listening to me half-awake and painfully-not-thought-through announcement!! Love you guys to bits!!!

Btw here's a link to TheOdd1sOut in case you do wanna check his videos out;

[ryehouses]

i was tagged in this by @bobafett, who wants to bring back ask box games! this was really fun and really helped drive home the fact that i am maybe a little too wordy!

y'all know the drill. copy, paste, fill in your own answers! feel free to share!

How many works do you have on AO3? impossible for me to say because i have shed ao3 handles like a particularly robust hermit crab, but if i'm just counting everything under iridan, thirteen!

What’s your total AO3 word count? ......1.3 million, as iridan. if we throw in some of my other psueds and the truly awful eragon fanfiction i wrote when i was fourteen, we're probably loking at 2 - 2.5 mil.

What fandoms do you write for? presently, star wars, jujutsu kaisen, star wars again. i have some witcher fic in my gdocs and older projects in rdr2, dishonored, anything that can catch and hold my attention for long enough for my brain to produce a bit of dopamine,

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? all five of them are in the ast 'verse except for lost country

Do you respond to comments? i try to, but it's really hit or miss! i am painfully shy and usually can only go '!!!!!' in thanks

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? of my completed fics, none! i am not really in to the angst ending. if i ever do get around to finishing it, i started a dishonored/his dark materials au that would have ended with corvo going slowly, gently nuts and taking over the outsider's place in the void

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? i like happy endings, so all of them!

Do you get hate on fics? occasionally. i still think about that one commentor on ast who accused me of blaming the jedi for order 66 like, all the time. mostly no, though, everyone is really nice!

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? i've been told that 'wrestling as nasty foreplay' is something of a signature move of mine, so! 1) yes and 2) whatever kind of smut 'wrestling as nasty foreplay' applies as

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? yes, but almost exclusively his dark materials crossovers. i do have a witcher/temeraire fusion au sitting in my gdocs

Have you ever had a fic stolen? no, not that i'm aware of. i do semi-frequent google searches to see if my shit pops up anywhere.

Have you ever had a fic translated? i don't think so! ast was podfic'd, if that counts.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? i don't think so, because i am a whole idiot and am hard to collaborate with.

What’s your all time favorite ship? of ALL TIME? impossible to say. i am inconsistent and flighty. bobadin hit me pretty good, though

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? haha too many. i started a jedi!din fic and didn't get far. i've had several WIPs on ao3 sit without an update for years. i have drafted, redrafted, and drafted again a novel that will most likely never see the light of day. finishing even one of those would likely water my crops for several years

What are your writing strengths? i take particular pride in my settings! somebody on ao3 told me last week that i have nice turns of phrase, too, and i am proud of those too

What are your writing weaknesses? i have never once said anything in six words when i could say them in six hundred million billion instead

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? obviously i've experimented in various projects, but i am fundamentally kind of lazy and prefer to sprinkle in a few words here and there instead of spending the time to learn about another language's grammar structure

First fandom you wrote for? the first fandom i published anything in was eragon, way back in the day! the first fandom i wrote for was his dark materials, in a composition notebook in like the fifth or sixth grade!

Favorite fic you’ve written? could not possibly pic! they are all like my children and also my therapist.

i'm tagging @meyerlansky and anybody else who wants to participate! consider yourself invited!

[benzgarfield]

Housekeeping Post

I mentioned a while back that I would be splitting the social media updates tag in two, one for staff/official account updates and one for cast updates. I've completed going through the 300-and-some posts that were in the tag at the time and back-updated everything.

I also mentioned that I would was separating the fanmeet tag by each tour stop. This is done, I just need to go through and add each fanmeet to the timeline. (The general fanmeet tag is still there)

Speaking of the timeline, I reached the limit in number of bullet points allowed per post segment (which I was not aware existed until now), so I had to split it up by year, which is probably more legible anyways. It's likely only a matter of time before it grows long enough to need to be behind a cut, but I'm loathe to do so bc I use it as reference on a regular basis when tagging or dating old events, and I'd rather not have to add an extra click. But it is getting to be a long post.

Y'all may have noticed that I've started tagging posts by month and year. This is to provide a more cohesive idea of the timeline that includes social media posts that aren't tied to a particular event, and to allow people to look at everything from a particular month rather than clicking through individual event tags. Of course, this means I have the work of back-updating the tags, which is easy to do in bulk for event tags, but more time consuming for the social media posts bc I have to do those manually.

As far as archiving goes, I am making more targeted progress on archiving old 2023 posts and have made it through at least half of the year on twitter.

I've come across a lot of IG stories from the Pit Babe workshop last year that I will wait to post, since we're at a point rn where it will jumpscare anyone that does not see this post into thinking that Pit Babe 2 workshops have started. But I've gone ahead and drafted all of it so that it's at least saved. I'm trying to outpace the rate at which things are disappearing off twitter, but we'll see how far I get.

A note on future posts:

As previously mentioned, I will be tagging any Pit Babe 2 Workshop or Filming posts as "#pit babe 2 workshop" and "#pit babe 2 filming"

Any Pit Babe 2 posts will be tagged pit babe 2.

It usually takes me a day or two to get into a new tagging habit, so whenever s2 does start filming, please bear with me if I miss a few posts. I will try my best to keep from spoiling people who don't want it, but I do mess up sometimes.

[letkirillfight]

15 people 15 questions

thanks for the tag @babygirlspurgeon, @masonshaws, @giveemgreef, and @babygirlboberrey

1. are you named after anyone?

I share my middle name with my mom.

2. when was the last time you cried?

A couple days ago. The last month has been a bit rough.

3. do you have kids?

No and never will.

4. what sports do you play/have you played?

I played soccer when I in like elementary school and then did a season of tennis in like high school. Low-key hated doing both of them. I'm not really one for playing sports unless it's the sort of casual pick up game with friends. I much prefer to watch.

5. do you use sarcasm?

Yes, religiously.

6. what's the first thing you notice about people?

I'm going to be honest I am not self aware enough to know the answer to this one. But probably their outfit if I had to guess.

7. what's your eye color?

I always say gray.

8. scary movies or happy endings?

To my endless annoyance my brain is absolutely the worst while watching scary movies, like the most obviously built up jump scare will still spook me, so happy endings I guess.

9. any talents?

Uh, I'm really good at packing? And I'm pretty good with horses? I don't know, my mind kind of blanked on anything I have ever been good at when I read this.

10. where were you born?

Michigan

11. what are your hobbies?

I am a huge nerd and also a grandmother (this is not a slight towards grandmothers). I love watching movies and binging tv shows and have an extensive dvd collection because they will tear physical media from my cold dead hands. I also love playing video games and really want to build my own desktop one of these days towards that end. I will read anything that looks half interesting and have also lost many an hour to writing whatever idea pops into my head. I crochet, can technically knit, and am learning how to spin yarn and sew beyond basic mending. I also play sudoku, solitaire (spider specifically), and do puzzles. Plus like hiking and traveling to occasionally get out of the house. Oh and hockey.

12. do you have any pets?

Nope. I grew up with a wide variety of animals but have yet to get one of my own. Someday I'm considering getting a cat or two but we'll see.

13. how tall are you?

I am 5'5".

14. favorite subject in school?

History, followed closely by English. This probably has just as much to do with my teachers as the actual subject material as those classes were really fun.

15. dream job?

None lol. I dream of financial stability not working. If I had to pick something though it would probably be something physical. I like being able to say "I made that" or something with horses. I loved working with them before. Most realistically though it wouldn't be one thing. I like the idea of being a jack of all trades type and bouncing around learning how to do a bunch of things.

tagging: @wildrangers, @eis-hockey,@kirill-kaprizovs-curls,@cecishockeyblogging, @jonassiegenthighler, @lindholmline, @carpehistoryandthepens, @stanleyoffseventh, @couthbbg, @dwisp, @devils-wild, @thecardiackids, @wehaveagathering, @flaticeball, @oetter if y'all want to do it and haven't already done so. Plus anyone else who sees this and is interested consider yourself tagged.

[luckylolabug]

Tagged by the lovely @starwritingbri <3 <3 1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently 17, after I yoinked some down. We won't talk about how many WIPs I have that aren't posted haha.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 150,958

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Uhh, multifandom girlie here so. Lockwood & Co, the DCU, Yuri on Ice, I currently have a folder of Six of Crows stuff getting ready for Whumptober but they're not posted yet, sometimes I one off and write stuff for Star Wars or TAZ: Balance. Ive got a big project going for Heartstopper that isnt posted yet, and I have a secondary account for MHA stuff lol. Also some joint stuff for FMA with Bri eventually!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

In So Many Words- Yuri!!! on Ice

Sorry, This Page Cannot Be Reached- Yuri!!! on Ice

Slow Dancing in the Dark- Lockwood and Co

Barrels and Bootlegging- Lockwood and Co

Shimmer in the Haze of Winter Lawns- Lockwood and Co

5. Do you respond to comments?

For the most part, yes! I can get behind on them a bit, but I do try and keep up with them because the support is important to me.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't write a TON of angst??? But I want to say Heaven is Not Fit to House a Love Like You and I just for the context. Ask me again once I get my Whumptober stuff up in October and that's going to change, though.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of the stuff I write has happy endings! It's hard to pick just one?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Unfortunately. Weirdly, most of the fandoms I've dabbled in that have reps for being "the worst" have been the nicest to me as far as fics go, but I've gotten some very nasty comments on things for certain fandoms that don't have that kind of reputation. Fan culture is weird. I wish I could say it doesnt affect me buuuuut. There's a reason I stepped back from writing so much L&C and tend to drift with other fandoms more now.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have a few times, and I'm not like. Directly opposed to it? But it's not really my Jam a good 99% of the time and honestly I prefer just keeping most of my stuff Fade to Black or vague and not in depth if it comes up. I like focusing more on other stuff, but I don't think smut is bad either!

10. Do you write crossovers?

Not as far as I'm aware. I have like. Some AU type stuff thats "This world but with these characters" but its not a direct crossover where the characters from multiple universes interact. I guess unless youre counting the DCU as a whole but??? Lol?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

To my knowledge, no? But it could have been, I guess.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope! But I'd be cool with it! My mom helps me with Spanish in a few things for the Heartstopper project I have going since she's fluent, but those are just a few lines.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not anything POSTED, but eventually that'll change!

14. What is your all-time favorite ship?

Y'all, I am in too many fandoms for this lol. I don't know that I even HAVE an all-time fav that shoots above the rest? I have favs in fandoms, but not as a whole????

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Uhhhhh. Probably Barrels and Bootlegging??? I hate even putting this out there but fandom politics and the amount of BS just was draining the hell out of me when I was working on stuff so I don't even really have any plans to go back to finishing any of my stuff for L&C at this point. I'm happier writing other places, right now!

16. What are your writing strengths?

uHHHHHH???? Bri says its details, so I guess that? Putting details into everything?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

All of them. LOL. No, but honestly, I struggle with the editing process most because I think I end up re-writing things a good 5 or 6 times before I decide its fine and even then I struggle after stuff is posted just because I want to try so hard to keep things cohesive and correct. I spend way too much time Googling shit that shouldnt even really matter, but the small things matter to ME.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

The only thing I've really done it with is throwing in some stuff in Spanish, and I was only okay with that because my mom is fluent and offered to look it over for me to make sure it was correct. Otherwise I'm like.....Google Translate is inaccurate a lot and the idea of putting something in a fic that could be WRONG freaks the hell out of my OCD and I can't do it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Oh, jeez. Uhh. Honestly it was either ATLA or the Halo games? I don't fucking know, it was pretty mid 2000s. I still have my log in for FF.net and LiveJ but I dont really want to go look because Im sure I'll hate it.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

This feels like a shit answer because it's not POSTED YET. But I really have been eating up everything I've written so far for this "Six of Crows but make it Modern" thing thats sitting at about 40k words right now. So probably that??? If its one that I have POSTED, then I think it's probably one of the 5+1s I did for Yuri on Ice just because those were really fun and light. I'm TERRIBLE at tagging people so uh. @fluffypinkkitties @twiilys and @chibiosaka I guess????

[kiaxet]

20 Questions For Fic Writers

Tagged by @girlwithakiwi

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

5. I had a very long break between my FFN and AO3 days.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

34,086

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, it's all Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, because that's what the brainworms want. My only non-Rise AO3 fic is Voltron, and my FFN has a good amount of Kingdom Hearts on it.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

This is going to just be a list of everything on my AO3, so in order: 1. Making the Rounds 2. Lay Me Down 3. Lethal Measures 4. Siblingquest 202X 5. Site 39

5. Do you respond to comments?

For the most part, yes!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

The first and third fics I wrote for the Cass Apocalyptic Series are very much downer endings, because there was a lot of downer stuff happening in the series at the time!

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

...would it surprise you to learn that that's also a Cass Apocalyptic fic?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nope! I'm sure I will eventually, but I honestly could not care less. That's what the block button is for.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Also Nope! Turns out I'm the wrong flavor of ace for that.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Look. Listen. Kingdom Hearts is a crossover canon by design. It's very easy to go nuts with it. That said, my most consistent crossover well is Discworld, because it's very easy to have Death just roll up when someone passes, or gets very close to it. (So far it's been Red vs Blue, Kingdom Hearts, and RWBY, that I can remember off the top of my head.)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If I have, I'm not aware of it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Again, not that I know of. I'm open to it - just let me know!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Kinda? It's mostly been RP or post/counterpost that gets published as a fic. I dunno, does tumblr collaborative writing count?

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

I hit this question and forgot every ship ever I will probably never let Terra/Aqua from KH:BBS go, though.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have a handful of unpublished ones that probably just aren't going anywhere - I haven't worked on them for too long, and the drive is elsewhere. (Dear everyone looking at this question and going "but Lethal Measures though," I promise you I am trying)

16. What are your writing strengths?

Characterization and voice, dialogue, and I'm told my comedy hits fairly well, which is a good thing when you're mostly writing in a comedic canon.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Description, of both settings and people! What do they look like? How is the living room arranged? Hell if I know! It's not aphantasia so much as it is inconvenient.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I generally don't - my French is too far out of practice, and I'm not going to pretend I know any other languages well enough to go for dialogue.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Earthworm Jim, in third grade. Read it in front of the class. Core memory.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

It's currently Siblingquest 202X, because that's what I've been working on consistently and I cannot wait for y'all to see what I have in store with this behemoth.

No pressure tags: @dandywonderous @talldecafcappuccino @trashquisitor-shirozora @tangledinink @rbtlvr @remedyturtles

[officeobject]

Not sure if this was directed at me ... or, well, what that person was even saying, but anyways, if it's for me, I do wonder why young adults think it's okay to treat me that way, who is the same person with the winner of the age-guess poll being "16", because for all people know, I COULD be 16!

Anyways, again, this is somehow a grown-up, and I'd be sad, if I had any clue what they were saying.

Also, why do they talk like a generic 15-ish year old teenage Tiktokker?

"Glad" to know them, who is also a fecking ADULT, as I've said, is more concerned about me trolling a scammer, than the fact that some scammer is using the situation, to get people to donate, because I guess THAT'S the priority.

Also, I don't think it's "embarrassing myself", to show me purposely being annoying to a scammer, but okay.

As for being called an extreme leftist, well, not that my brain has a comprehension of politics or whatever, but I doubt I am, or at least, I doubt that annoying some person I believe to be a scammer and bringing awareness, would could as extreme leftism.

I also don't do humiliation rituals, so please know that was some TMI, as I do not want my content to be reblogged to your wank-loving account, random 20 year old.

They also posted my screenshots or whatever - I don't even remember, so it probably wasn't a reblog - or maybe it WAS, but of a DIFFERENT post, qhich was a fundraiser post thing, and that means it ain't relevant - as in, that an alleged extreme leftist, trolls a scammer - and don't worry, I blocked this account that still hasn't shed their excess hormones.

Also, the way they use the emojis, make them seem more like a teenager than I fecking do, but okay.

The lack of blurring out my profile, opens me up for public humiliation and harassment, but I guess it's morally good now, just because someone "embarrassed themself" in front of a scammer, as an "extreme leftist" - quite honestly, I don't even know why this person is talking about presumably me, as if I'm a part of some plan or group or whatever - like, I'm just confused AF, but okay.

Really, did they even look at my account? Like, I'm posting about toys and fearing a teenage ghost, who do they think I am, exactly?

Over all, I hoped y'all think this was funny, but, like, trust me, I've had "good" young adults, be like this towards me before, and sometimes ... I just don't feel good enough to ever be an adult, or mature enough, or anything ... and then I think to myself that this might be the standard, and I remember, that 10-12 year old me was more of an adult than this.

I'm tagging this as memes, because it's funny, includes that slang, and throwing random words at a maybe-minor (instead of trying to educate them, block them, or ANYTHING), who, for all you know, could be over-emotional, could have a reason for why they act, and could learn or develop, or just - IS A MINOR, is very weird when you're a random young adult who doesn't know them -

And hey, even if I wasn't even NEAR the teen(-)age, I don't think putting someone out there like that, is very reasonable, but hey, what do I know?

[the-prophesied-disco-gay]

What a beautiful wonderful post! Oh my gosh I'm so happy to have seen this!

I don't talk much about being a system because 1) I'm terrified of real world repercussions if this blog is ever linked back to my real name because the general population is NOT chill *at all* about plurals and 2) because I've dealt with this on my own as long as I can remember and I don't know all the terminology and politics of the community and don't want to accidentally step in it or hurt somebody

So I'm gonna go ahead and throw all that out the window and just be real with y'all on this here tag for a minute. Defenestrate your doubts babes <3

I usually use singular first person pronouns (I/me/my) for the most part, for safety. I don't want to slip in regular conversation and drop a "we" with the wrong person and create a safety issue for myself. However I will use we/us/our for clarity sometimes when specifically discussing this topic.

I have no idea what my system origin is! There is...um...lots of trauma in my background. Including things that go back to before my actual memory (nonconsensual operation to "normalize" my genital configuration as an intersex baby as well as continued supression of those traits and questions as I grew, as well as sexual abuse by a relative when I was very young). In addition to the stuff when I was little there are also several traumas that happened when I could remember them. However! I don't know when my system formed so I don't know if any of that was the cause or if there was a singular cause. I know I have never been able to intentionally create so much as an imaginary friend so probably traumagenic?

But much like snowglobe-system said, the existence of endogenic systems is extremely comforting to me. My headmates exist, that I am very sure of, so it doesn't really matter how they came to be! Love that for us tbh.

Also my mom is also a system! Definitely traumagenic and it didn't manifest until much later in life for her. But it makes me wonder if there is a hereditary element to this. Neither of us knew the other was a system until we had been years established, so it definitely wasn't something influenced by talking to each other about it.

I have no idea what my headmates names are, so I've given them names from characters in media that seemed to fit the closest. They're not those characters made manifest in my psyche, though from what I have read that can happen? Very cool. But for me it's more like that scene in The Last Samuri where the American dude is talking to the Japanese dude despite neither of them speaking each others language, and he goes "how about Bob, can I call you Bob?" because he can't actually ask for the guys name lol. I'm still learning how to directly communicate with my headmates on purpose, so I don't know what to call them other than names I've assigned 😅

There is an assortment of genders among us and at least one anthro in here. That took some serious getting used to because I, the one who fronts the most, used to hate furries and anthros in a very "I am legit afraid of them" sort of irrational way, which I think was me just desperately trying to be what I considered normal at the time.

I also have OCD, which shows up in every single headmate in the same way, very consistently. This is, ironically, very soothing to my OCD. It helps me keep a cohesive sense of self even when someone is fronting who isn't aware they are part of a system. We still know our routines and what we consider the "correct" way of doing things.

I get memory loss/gaps when someone else is fronting, but not when cofronting.

The easiest way to tell when I've switched (is that the right term?) is the change to my word choice and the way I speak. Apparently if you know me well, the shift in mannerisms and expressions is also a clear indicator.

So that's me! I consider the brain an incredible thing, capable of so many things we don't fully understand, and I think that's really cool! I think hating on other systems for how they came to be or how they function as systems is both arrogant to the extreme and morally wrong. I think there are many, many more plurals out there than we are aware of. I think greater acceptance and understanding will go a long way toward making the world a better place.

Thanks @snowglobe-system for starting this conversation!

Hello sysconversation! I'm a massive fan of this tag being coined, I think there's a lot of room for some really great discussion here, so I'm gonna try to kickstart a conversation myself!

I'm a traumagenic DID system. I experience a lot of denial. But you know what really really helps me? The existence of endo systems. No I'm not kidding.

Because I can say oh I must be faking this disorder. It must not be real. But I also believe that intentional systems are 100% real and that they exist, so... even if I don't have DID, I'm still creating my system right now. I'm real. My parts are real. No matter what disorders we do or don't have.

If you're traumagenic you ever been helped in some way by endo systems and/or their resources? If you're endogenic, have you ever been helped in some ways by traumagenic systems and/or their resources? We talk all the time about how we're different, I think it'd be great to have a chat about how we can be alike and how the intersection of our communities can help each other!

[hangmanssunnies]

Ask Me Anything, I'll Give You Everything

Summary: Every morning, you wake up and wonder if today will be the day? The day the love of your life breaks up with you. The only probable solution you can come up with is to force the issue. It seems like a simple plan; after all, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw has never made it a secret that he doesn't like brats.

Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem! Reader

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick 

Word count: 10k (phew, I'm sorry.)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Bradley is a consent king, BDSM dynamics, P in V, Aftercare, talking about feelings, Healthy Relationships, Communication, Daddy Kink but only a tiny bit, gratuitous use of pet names

Authors Note: No use of Y/N. Will I ever be able to write normal smut? Absolutely not. I have been working on this for weeks. I love Bradbrad so much y'all. I hope you enjoy this! My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts and tags are always appreciated as well! I love reading through them. Also, can we please talk about Miles’ hands in this gif ( am losing my mind)?

When you started dating Bradley Bradshaw, you knew he would be gone a lot. He had made that clear early on, so you could never claim it was a surprise. Bradley was also very aware of the realities of what his absences were like for you. It was because of that, that when he was home, he lived by a simple practice; he had to make sure that your relationship was perfect. He had (wanted) to make everything so amazing you would be able to get through whatever next stint you had to go without him present. 

You were perfectly independent when he was gone. However, when you got to be with him and were together, it was like you could finally relax. You could mention something in passing, and Bradley would ensure it gets done. Even better, more often than not, you didn't have to mention anything. Bradley took the initiative; he would just do things you needed without you saying anything, anticipating your needs.  

It was the little things with him. He broke open the crab shells and pulled out the meat for you when the legs were delivered to the table. Your favorite snack would start to run low, and it would be replaced the next time you checked. You couldn't remember the last time you went to Ulta; the bathroom's necessities, lotion, soaps, and moisturizer were always stocked. Bradley would bring home surprise flowers and make you dinner for no reason other than he wanted to. Love letters would show up in your mailbox or under your pillow. None of it was something you had to ask for. 

Bradley was romantic, funny, heartfelt, and genuine, indeed the best man you had ever met. However, something felt different in the last few weeks since he had been home. Bradley still went through all the motions, but you felt something off. It sometimes felt like he was just going through a routine, like there weren't the right emotions behind the actions anymore. 

Even with sex, something didn't feel quite right. While Bradley still made sure that you would always find satisfactory endings, he didn't hold you as long. The way he touched you just didn't feel the same or right. It worked under your skin and into the box of insecurities you kept in your chest. It was an insecurity that ran itself rampant. 

You were not a brat. You simply didn't label yourself that way when it came to your relationship. However, that was mostly because you had never needed to be a brat in your relationship before. You did what you were told, you were a good girl, and it was natural. It was easy because Bradley had always taken care of you. Rooster liked to take care of you. And you not wanting to brat was always fine and dandy because Bradley didn't like brats. That being said, you hadn't been feeling very taken care of lately.

It wasn't that you needed, or really wanted, Bradley to be perfect, but you did want to be taken care of. You had become so worked up about it that you were sensitive to every little thing Bradley did, analyzing it in your head. You had halfway convinced yourself that Bradley was staying with you out of obligation and that he was just waiting for the right time to break it off with you. 

Tonight you are at the bar with some of your friends. Bradley wraps an arm around your waist. It was a natural movement, something he has done hundreds of times. However, you slowly shift until his hand falls off your waistline. He didn't notice at first until a song or two passed. Then there is that weight again. You clench your teeth, trying to not let any frustration show on your face. 

You firmly grip Bradley's wrist, feeling his arm muscles flex tighter under your fingers. The touch makes him angle his head down to look at you. 

"Baby?" He poses it as a soft question, but it just irks you more. How dare he call you any pet names right now? His fingers dug just the slightest bit into your skin. 

"Don't touch me," you mutter angrily, pulling harder on Bradley's hand. His face is so full of hurt and confusion enough that you almost feel bad for your actions. His arm immediately moves away, and he even went as far as taking a step away from you. 

You could tell he was reeling. Your eyes watch as he makes an excuse to the group, none the wiser of the moment that just passed between you. He goes to the bar and waits next to it. Your eyes drift to him occasionally. You catch him taking a tequila shot, something somewhat out of character for him. He liked to stick to old fashions and beers. And his eyes still haven't strayed from you. 

Even as he made his way back to y'all's group from the bar. Bradley's sunglasses once again covering his eyes, like it was the middle of the day on the beach, even though it was the middle of the night in a bar. You feel the weight of his gaze, though, constantly straying to you. 

Two hours later, everyone makes their way out of the bar, calling their various Uber's and rides home. 

Neither of you had drunk much tonight, and after his shot, the only thing you saw Brad drink was water while you sipped a seltzer. You find the Bronco's keys in your purse and start to make your way towards the driver's side. However, Bradley beats you there, leaning against the door. Brad opens his palm, facing up, looking at you expectantly. 

"Keys?"

"I'll drive home," you tell him, closing your hands tighter around the keys. 

"No, I'm going to be driving home," He says, not moving in the slightest, still waiting for his keys. 

You clench your jaw in annoyance and narrow your eyes. "I didn't do any shots tonight. So, I will drive home." 

"I did one shot, had two beers, not even IPAs, and then only drank water. You had several hard seltzers and no water or food. We both know I have a higher tolerance for alcohol, baby," He explains to you. He isn't condescending about it either, just stating it all like facts. One of his eyebrows raised high at your attitude.

"I'm driving," you say again, a harder edge in your voice. 

Bradley stands up to his full height until he is glaring down at you, "I will be driving home, or we are taking an Uber. Your pick, princess." 

You are so tempted to pull out your phone and order an Uber for the both of you. However, after staring into Bradley's eyes and seeing their absolute clarity, you relent, dropping the key in his waiting palm.  

You start walking to the car's passenger side, and Bradley shadows you there. He never touches you, but you can feel his warmth radiating off of him, inches from yourself. He opens the door for you and holds out a hand, offering to help you into the Bronco. 

You ignore his offered hand, pulling yourself up into the seat by yourself. Not even looking at Bradley as he pulls your seat belt and hands it to you to buckle up. He didn't move from his spot until he heard the click of the belt. He waits for the kiss you usually press to his lips or cheek after getting in the car. He must have noticed that it wasn't coming because he was closing the door a few moments later and making his way back to the driver's side.  

You watch Bradley walk in front of the hood of the car. He pulls his hand through that sandy brown hair so it is all askew. You don't shift your gaze from looking forward when he rounds the edge of the hood. You are tempted to look, though, when he takes an abnormally long time before he opens the door and slides into the driver's seat.  

The silence in the cab is reverberating between you. Bradley reaches to adjust the volume on the radio at the exact moment you do. Your hands almost brush, but he quickly jerks his hand back before it touches yours. It seems he is taking your words to heart about not touching you. 

"Are you feeling okay, princess?" His deep voice asks you. 

And there is the obvious answer, that you are not okay. That everything in you is screaming a little bit. How you feel like Bradley is days away from leaving you, not just to fly his planes. That he doesn't love you anymore, that you are too much work to take care of, that he will ask you to leave. 

And it must be taxing. It must be a lot of work for someone like him to have to take care of you, with all of his own problems. Shouldn't you step up and take better care of him so that he doesn't ask you to go? Take care of him by driving home from the bar or not bothering him with your problems when you are burning for some of his attention. But you feel like you are on thin ice already. Telling him you aren't okay is too high of a risk when it could just push him further away from you. 

"I'm fine."

His fingers drum against the steering wheel at your response. You take a moment to study his side profile. Bradley is visibly agitated. He has a look of concentration on his face like a complex problem is laid out before him. 

"Since when do you lie to me?" Bradley asks you. 

"I'm not lying to you! I'm fine."

"Okay, then hold my hand." He pronounces the words slowly and clearly, before presenting his right hand. His thick, calloused fingers are spread slightly, waiting. 

"No." You snap your eyes away from him and his hand, back to the road in front of you. 

"Hold my hand," Bradley repeats, his voice dropping even lower. It's a tone you know; this isn't a request but a demand. 

"You can't make me," You stubbornly say back to him. 

Bradley audibly gasps. You haven't ever dared challenge him like that before. 

"You aren't being a very good girl right now, princess." 

"Maybe I'm not. Maybe you don't deserve a good girl right now." The words fall out of your mouth before you know what you're saying. 

"I don't like brats, baby," 

"Oh, good to know you don't like me," you say, heart clenching in your chest. It was a sort of a setup, but right now, it seemed like an undeniable reality that Bradley didn't like you anymore. 

"Don't you dare put words in my mouth like that," Bradley's voice has a thinly veiled fury that you have never heard before. It causes gooseflesh to erupt along your skin. 

"That is what you said!" Part of you stinging. What you really wanted from him right now was reassurances. Instead, you feel the only option is to keep pushing the point. 

"So you are being a brat on purpose." He muses. The anger is a little less present in his voice but still there.  

"Why?" He asks you when you don't say anything. You cross your arms over your chest and chew on your lip, bouncing your leg. 

"I asked you a question." He reminds you. Then he rephrases the question for you. "Why are you being a bad girl, princess?" 

"You don't deserve a good girl," you remind him as if there is an important distinction. 

"I see," he says slowly. "And why don't I deserve a good girl?"

The words you want to say die on your tongue about how he hasn't been taking care of you. That you feel like maybe you aren't enough for him. That if you were enough, he would take care of you like he used to. It's some fragile emotion in you, one you don't entirely know how to voice. 

The why plagues you. You suddenly realize that Bradley does deserve a good girl. You just can't be that person. This isn't even a him problem. It's a you problem that you are trying to make him fix. It isn't his responsibility to fix, though. 

"You do deserve a good girl Bradley. That someone just isn't me," you finally say. 

"What the fuck does that mean?" The anger is back again. 

"I think it's pretty self-explanatory."

"Well, it's not. So, how about you spell it out for me?"

If you try to explain anything to him right now, you will burst into tears, so you bite your tongue instead. Silently begging for the drive and this conversation to end. You are only a few blocks away from your home. 

You hear Bradley take a deep, measured breath and your eyes snap to him again. Even in the dark of the cab, you can see the light flush up his neck and face that he gets when he is angry, making his scars stand out more prominently. 

You are unbuckling your seat belt before Rooster fully parks the car in the driveway. 

"Do not get out of this car until we finish this conversation," Bradley warns you in that same low voice. 

You are not listening, though, and isn't that the whole point of being a brat? The door is popped open seconds after his warning. You make a mad dash towards the front door. 

You hear the Bronco's door slamming and Bradley growling out your name behind you. 

You have only just passed the entryway threshold when he catches up with you. His frame seems extra tall and intimidating when he looms over you like this. 

"So you don't want to have a conversation, and you don't want to listen. Is that right, princess?"

He still respects your wish to not be touched, but his hands are on either side of your head. He has you caged against the entry hallway. Nowhere is his body brushing yours, but the heat radiating off him almost feels like he is. The smell of his cologne wafts around you. You are so surrounded by him that it's hard for you to remember that he asked another question. Finally, you shake your head slowly.

"If you keep acting like a brat and don't use your words, I'm going to treat you like a brat." Bradley is telling you this as a warning. His words light something in you, though, and you push roughly against his chest, trying to get him away from you. 

"I'm not in the mood, Bradley." You growl out. You duck under one of his arms, needing space to think and breath.

"You don't get to not be in the mood," Bradley growls back. That has you rounding back at him, fury filling you.

"I don't get to say no?" You ask. Your voice is equally as upset as his. He seems to calm down a bit at your words. You watch him take a deep breath, following the motions of his inhale and a heavy audible sigh on the exhale. 

"Of course, you can. I am not a fan of how you are twisting my words tonight. I meant it as. You don't get to say no to talking to me." His eyes don't stray from yours, and you see the concern in their depths. 

"I deserve to know why you are not fine, and you are acting like a brat." 

There was the phrasing again, deserve. It rubbed you all the wrong ways, and you set your stance, bringing yourself up to your full height, glaring into Bradley's eyes. 

"If you don't want me, and can't handle me as a brat, maybe you just aren't cut out to be my Dom, Brad."

What was that TikTok sound that was popular for a while? Something about how people who can raise a single eyebrow are automatically brat tamers. The moment you saw the eyebrow raise Bradley is giving you. You knew you were fucked. 

"You have two choices: go to our room and lock the door, and I will see you in the morning. Or you better be naked and on our bed by the time I make my way to our room, princess. If I find you any other way, you will be in more trouble than you already are."

He grabs the purse that dropped to the ground without you even noticing. Then Bradley hangs it on the proper hook before he digs in his pocket, pulling out his keys and wallet. He glances at you and once again raises that eyebrow. 

"You want to go to bed willingly before I make you." You are speed walking through the house to the master bedroom moments later. 

You strip mostly naked before perching on the edge of the bed, waiting for him. Only leaving on your panties. 

Bradley takes his sweet time getting to you. You hear him walking throughout the house: in the laundry room, swapping loads of laundry, and briefly in the kitchen, the fridge opening and closing. 

When he finally gets to the bedroom, he doesn’t even acknowledge you at first. You lift your eyes, watching him set a tumbler of water on your side of the bed. Then making his way to his side and putting down his own water bottle he liked to take to bed. 

You quickly lower your eyes when you see him glance towards where you are sitting. Bradley is standing in front of you a second later.  

“Are you going to let me touch you now, baby?” He asks you playfully, teasingly. 

You think about it for a moment, and you are surprised that he is patiently waiting for your answer. Finally, you nod slowly. Bradley’s hand lifts your chin, so you look up at him. His touch is surprisingly gentle and light. 

“Use your words. I have heard this mouth throw around all kinds of things tonight. I think you can manage a yes or no.” He squeezes your chin in between his fingers, then just slightly. 

“Yes.” You whisper.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, you can touch me.”

His hand slips lower and wraps around your throat. It’s a loose hold but serves as an anchor point. Your breath catches when he gives your throat the tiniest squeeze. More a twitch of his hand than anything else. 

With his hand directing you, he pushes you back until you are arching and angled to still hold eye contact. He holds you there for a long moment, his eyes tracing your face, then lower to take in your whole body. 

He lets go of your neck, and without his steady hand, you find yourself falling back on the bed. Brad doesn’t make any move after that. He just stares down at you, taking you in. 

“What am I going to do with you, princess?” He finally asks you in that rough voice. 

“I think you need a reminder of why you should be a good girl for me. And why you don’t want to be a brat.” His fingers ghosted over your thighs in a slow motion. Then, when they reach your hip, they drag back down to your knees again. 

“But,” he continues on, dragging out the word. “You are just so damn pretty almost makes me want to forgive you.” When his hands reach your hips for the second time, he grips them and flips you over. 

You gasp in surprise at the action with your face and belly pressed into the bed. You try to lift yourself further up, but one of Bradley’s hands is pressing down on your back. 

“Brats get punished, baby. Is that what you want from me? To punish you?” He asks you. You slowly shake your head no into the mattress but don’t say anything otherwise.

Bradley tsks at you, and in the same breath, the hand that wasn’t holding you down smacks your ass. It isn’t the hardest Bradley has ever spanked you, but it was hard for the first one. It makes your skin instantly sting, and your whole body jolts forward.  

You flex your legs that are still hanging off the side of the bed, trying to find purchase on the ground. 

One of the many beautiful things about Bradley Bradshaw was that he could manhandle you any which way as if you were no more than a rag doll. It is something you never really had the experience of with any partner before him. Bradley repositions you so you are sprawled in his lap over his thighs. 

He is still fully dressed from the bar. Your knees are pressed into the ground, and your ass is on display. 

He gently rubs where he has already smacked you. You stare down at the ground in front of you, examining the grain in the hardwood floor. Bradley’s hand comes down and smacks your ass again. You groan in response. 

“How are you doing, baby?” He asks you, rubbing soothing circles again. His hand feels cool against the skin that is already inflamed. 

You continue refusing to answer him though, preferring to take whatever punishment he will give you in silence. Bradley’s hand comes down hard a moment later, the slap it makes against your skin echoing in the room. 

“Not talking to me is not an option. I thought we already established that,” Rooster growls out. 

You receive retribution with another spank when you keep your mouth closed tight. You can’t help but let out the barest of whimpers after that one. 

“What was that, baby?” He asks you, his tone soft again.  

“How many?” You whisper. You half expect another spank at the action and tense your body waiting for the impact. Instead, Bradly stays steady, rubbing your cheeks. His other hand comes forward to push your hair behind your ear, so he has a better view of your face.

“How many do you think you deserve, princess?” 

“I don’t know,” you tell him.

He hums, looking down the bridge of his nose at you while deliberating. 

“How many have you had already?” he asks. 

Hesitantly, you raise your hand and show him four fingers. You immediately receive another spank. This time lower on your cheek cresting the back top of your thighs. It is significantly softer than the other ones you have received tonight.  

“This is your last warning, baby. I won’t ask you to use your words again.” 

You take a few shallow breaths, trying to even out your body that is going haywire. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. Bradley nods his head, approving your words. 

“How many are you at, baby?”

“Five,” you supply, still unable to get out more than a whisper. 

“And how many do you think you deserve? How many does my little brat need to learn her place?”

“I don’t know.”

Bradley sighs at your response like he has some great burden. 

“That’s not up to bratty princesses to decide, is it?”

“No, Sir,” you whimper back. 

“No,” he agrees. “That’s for me to decide. I get to decide because I’m in charge.” He punctuates the sentence with a spank.

“I am your Dom, Princess.” Spank. 

“If you want to be a brat or a baby, then I am your Daddy,” He gives you another spank, so hard this time that you jolt forward, sighing an odd mix between a whimper and hiss. 

“But any way you want to look at it, any way you behave. You are mine.” Spank. 

“Do you understand?” Bradley asks you slowly. His hand that is pressed into the center of your back drifts down lower, tracing soothing circles. 

“Yes. I understand.” 

“Good,” he whispers and spanks you again. 

You do whimper this time, loudly. You let one of your hands grip the edge of the Hawaiian shirt Rooster is still is wearing, working it in-between your fingers. 

“How many was that?”

“Ten,” you tell him shakily. 

“Five more.” He says then. 

“Five?” You gasp, clutching the fabric in your hands tighter. You turn to look at him, abandoning the floor in front of you. 

“Yes, because I told you to be naked. And you still have these lacy little panties on. Don’t you?”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I forgot them.”

“No, you are smarter than to forget something like that. Aren’t you, baby?” He coos the question to you. “You were choosing to be bratty.”

Rooster's eyes are more black than any other color with how wide his pupils are blown. That flush of anger, more lust than anything now, staining his skin. His eyes meet yours, and his tongue darts to wet his lips, dragging a little on his mustache. You break eye contact with him and stare at the floor again, ready to accept the punishment. 

“I want you to count them.” He tells you 

Smack, your ass stings again, but it’s mainly from the flesh already being abused. “Eleven.”

Smack. It is intentional, you know; these blows are significantly less painful than the previous ones.

“Twelve,” you choke out. 

Thirteen and fourteen come in rapid succession. You almost aren’t able to get the numbers out in-between. 

“Only one more princess, you are taking it so well. Can you do one more?” He asks you. 

“Yes,” you confirm. 

When Bradley smacks your ass for the final time, you gasp and clench your thighs together. 

He leaves you there for a moment to calm down, but it’s not long until he pulls you back up and stares at your face, searching. 

“You took that like a very good girl,” he praises you. 

He leans forward, ready to ghost his lips over yours. However, you are still too raw and in your head. So, you turn your face just enough to the side that Bradley’s lips catch the edge of your mouth instead. 

He pulls back from you and narrows his eyes. You only blink back, your tongue darting out to lick your lips. He leans in to kiss you again, and you once again turn away. A rumble of displeasure falls from his chest at your actions. 

“You still haven’t learned your lesson, baby?” Bradley questions you. 

Bradley pushes you down onto your knees, then. He starts to shrug off his Hawaiian over shirt, but you risk raising from your knees to stop him. 

You lean into his space and ghost your lips over the edge of one of his ears. Even with you standing and him sitting on the edge of the bed, he feels so tall. Your hands trace over his arms and down his chest slightly to catch the shirt’s open edge and push it back off his shoulders.

Maybe there were ways you could take care of Bradley, too, at least in the bedroom. 

You drag your hands down his chest to start lifting his wife beater, and you briefly let your nails run along his abs and shoulders. As soon as it pulls free, you throw it away from the bed, vaguely in the direction of the laundry hamper. 

Bradley is watching you with wide eyes, his mouth just slightly ajar. You graze your lower lip with your teeth, feasting on the sight of him shirtless. 

“So handsome,” you utter. You are rewarded for the compliment with the small pleased smile that splits his face. 

It inspires you to lean forward, kissing the scar on his chin, then the ones on his neck. Lower you nibble in random places and trace the lines of his chest with your tongue. 

“Do not tease me,” he growls at you. 

So, you shift back on your heels for him. Then audibly whining as your still raw skin makes contact with your calves. You bounce forward, so you are more upright, the weight more on your knees than on your ass and calves.

Bradley unbuckles his pants, and you help pull them down his legs. Your hands get lost along the way again, tracing his muscular thighs. You circle his knee caps slowly before shoving the jeans and boxers out of the way. Tracing back up his calves to pull off the graphic socks with little roosters and planes on them, a gift from his last birthday.

And there is Bradley’s hard cock; he is the perfect size. You simply admire him for a moment as he situates himself on the edge of the bed again.

“Maybe your mouth will want to do more talking once I fuck it.” Bradley muses out loud. He is cupping your jaw, lifting your eyes to look at him instead of his cock.

His thick thumb presses to your lips, and you open your mouth for it. Sucking on it, your tongue tracing the pad of the digit.

Bradley groans and withdraws his thumb. You don’t let it go easily, though, sucking harder as he tries to retreat and just barely grazing it with your teeth. He cups the side of your head to steady you then.

You lean forward, kitty licking the tip of his dick. Lapping it a few times, you are tempted to continue on the teasing path. As you start to consider it, though, Bradley’s hand is heavy on the back of your head, pressing you forward the tiniest bit. It reminds you that this was supposed to be a punishment.

You open your mouth more, taking him into your mouth.

Bradley groans and you wrap one hand tight around his ankle, grounding yourself. Your other hand settles on his thigh. He lets you start at your own pace, slowly sliding more of him into your mouth. You build a rhythm, relaxing your throat. When he reaches the back of your throat, you start to pull back, but Bradley lightly bucks his hips forward as you do.

You can’t help but gag slightly since you aren’t prepared for it. You instinctually try and draw back and are stopped. Bradley’s hand threads into your hair, giving it a tug. That makes a moan vibrate in your throat. Your moan reverberates right through him, ringing up his spine until it’s echoed out of his own mouth.

He holds you there in place, mouth full, not moving and not letting you move either. So you wait, anticipation sitting in your stomach. He is heavy and hot in your mouth as you wait.

You lift your eyes to meet his. Bradley’s eyes are molten, and his jaw is set. When your gazes meet, and he raises that same eyebrow again. As he smirks down at you, he shifts his hips in a small movement. The thrusts get longer until he is fucking into your mouth.

He keeps up until he has a steady rhythm. Your jaw starts to ache slightly, and not for the first time, you curse Bradley’s stamina and sex drive. Of course, there were many explanations for it: being a pilot, his diet, being a sex god, genetics, how often he fucks you, just because he was Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw. Whatever the explanation, it doesn’t matter as he abuses your mouth.

You finally start to see signs that tell you he is close. The way his thighs start to quiver a little more than normal. How he is just a little too far gone to have consistency in how hard he is pulling your hair; almost slack for one thrust, and then your roots are stinging a thrust or two later.

You trace the hand you have on his thigh, gliding it over his fine leg hair until you’re cupping his balls.

“Fuck,” he hisses into the air, and you flash your eyes upward again to try and glance at his face. His eyes are squeezed closed, and a bead of sweat is sliding down his neck.

You gently start to massage his balls and squeeze your hand still wrapped around his ankle tightly. Dirty praise falls from his mouth.

“My little bratty slut.” He tells you, hitting the back of your throat and drawing back again.

“Are you going to be good? Can you take it all?” Bradley asks you, his voice low and ragged, broken up slightly by panting.

You moan in your throat and squeeze his ankle tight in a way of telling him yes. When he next hits the back of your throat, he pushes further, drawing you down to the base of his dick. Then, moaning loudly, he cums down your throat. You swallow it down in gulps, well acquainted with the taste.

“So good, princess.” He tells you, pulling out of your mouth. You open and close your jaw a few times before resting your head on Bradley’s thigh. His fingers pull through your hair, working through the knots he finds and massaging your scalp.

“So good,” you repeat back to him, turning your head enough to mouth a soft kiss against his leg and close your eyes for a minute.

“How are you doing, princess?” He asks, checking in with you. You hum contently at first while you decide.

“I’m wet.” You decide to tell him.

“Show me how wet, princess,” He responds. His hands grip your arms, helping pull you up into the bed, and getting you situated in the middle.

You reach out and adjust the pillows to your liking before leaning back against them. Bradley opens your legs and traces his thumb across the seam of your panties. You roll your hips forward into his thumb when he starts tracing your clit. Then he pulls them off you, exposing your pussy to him.

He brings your panties up to his nose, inhaling deeply, before throwing them over his shoulder. The sight makes you moan and clench around nothing. Bradley leans forward, and you finally allow him to kiss you.

His lips move slowly against yours. His tongue licks into your mouth, tasting himself there. You wrap one of your legs against Bradley’s hip, trying to urge him close to you. However, he reaches to the side of the bed and starts rummaging.

You break the kiss to see what he is reaching for. When his hand emerges with a vibrator. He pressed it in between your thighs. You jerk, The toy feeling cold against your heated skin.

He leaves it there while drawing you into another kiss. Bradley’s teeth sink into your lower lip, making you inhale through your nose sharply. He clicks the power button, and the vibrator comes alive on the lowest setting.

The room fills with the sound of muffled buzzing, kissing, and the breaths you manage to steal. While you sloppily make out, Bradley doesn’t move or adjust the vibrator once.

Giving you a hard kiss Bradley pulls away, trailing kisses down your neck. He sucks hard on your collarbone, biting it to solidify the hickey. His mustache only tickles a little bit going down your chest, where he latches onto one of your nipples.

He moves the vibrator so that it is pressed against your clit. You sigh at the stimulation and grip the sheets on either side of you in each hand. Next, Bradley moves to your other nipple, nibbling at it.

He eventually pulls away from you, leaning back, turning up the vibrator to a higher setting, and working it against you. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” Bradley says, eyes trained on the motion of the toy.

"Please, Brad," you beg him, grinding your hips into the toy. 

"Brad?" He pulls the toy away from you, and you groan at the loss. 

"Sir," you correct yourself. Bradley rewards you by allowing the vibrator to touch you again but doesn't put any pressure on it. Heat is burning at your core, and you feel raw want for him seeping out of yourself. You toss your head back in frustration with him. 

"Sir, please," you beg again, but don't get results this time. 

"Sir," you pant out when Bradley's hand holds your hips still, forcing you to just endure his teasing. 

"I need you, Daddy," You say next, and that does inspire something in him. He smirks and squeezes your hips.

"Pretty words, princess. Tell Daddy what you need."

And fuck, what didn't you need from Bradley Bradshaw? You need everything from him. You need his cock inside you. You need his body sweaty and sticky against yours. You need to have bruises in the shape of his mouth and fingers tomorrow. You need him to fuck your brains out. You need him to hold you and love you. You need him to make you his. 

You whine, not sure how to put it into words. Bradley always knew what you wanted and needed from him, so now that he wanted you to say it, you weren't sure what to actually ask for. 

"Fuck me," you tell him. Bradley pushes the vibrator into you then, and you clench around the intrusion. He slowly starts pumping it into you, but it isn't enough. 

"Like this?" He sweetly asks you. 

The vibrations from the toy radiate through your cunt, making you cry out. Bradley makes sure to angle it just right, and when your moans get a little too much, he starts to pull it out of you. Then repeating the maddening process over again. Finally, you dig your nails into the forearm holding the vibrator. 

"No, please. You know what I need." You tell him, sticking out your lip and meeting his eyes with your own, giving him a pleading look. 

"That's right," he nods to your words. "I do know what you need, baby. You need me to pound the brat out of your pussy too," he declares. 

He pulls the toy out of you, turning it off and setting it to the side. He lines you up with his cock. Bradley pushes into you slowly, then not stopping the motion until you are stretched around him, groins pressing flush together. 

He splays his hand wide across on your lower belly, pressing down, which makes you clench around him. You drop a knee to the side and wrap the other leg around his waist. Bradley uses the additional room you provide him to push himself deeper into you. 

"You are so tight," he moans. He angles his thumb so that it presses against your clit. Bradley swirls it in a slow circle while pulling his cock out of you at almost the same pace. You feel like you might lose your mind at this rate. 

"You fill me up so good," you groan out. 

"You like it when I touch you, baby?" He asks you.

"Yes," you pant out in quick response. You hope it will get him to touch you more. Bradley doesn't disappoint. He starts to mouth at your skin and speeds up his rhythm. 

"Don't forget it," Bradley tells you, following the statement with a hard bite. 

He fucks you harder until you are both dripping with sweat. Your hips are canting up, meeting his every thrust. You feel the muscles in your legs and abdomen quivering right on the edge, waiting to come. 

Then, the blunt edge of his nail catches your clit where he is rubbing you. The gentle scrape is enough to send you creeping over the edge and coming. You spasm around Bradley, gasping, a moan catching and breaking in the back of your throat.  

He keeps fucking you but slows down to short deep thrusts until you are less blissed out. You focus your gaze on him, admiring the concentration set in his features. The heavy weight of his body pressing into yours. 

You smash your mouth against Bradley's. You thread a hand into his short curls pulling him as close to you as you can. His thumb retreats from touching your clit, but he is still balls deep in you. 

The kissing starts to get dirtier. His tongue teasing yours, dominating your mouth. You are still sensitive from your orgasm and actually, pull your hips back from his so he isn't pressed so deeply in you. Bradley follows your lead and pulls even further out, so just the head of his dick is inside you. 

When your mouths separate for breath, you pant into his mouth, only centimeters apart. You flick your tongue out, licking your bottom lip and letting it graze against the texture of his mustache and plush upper lip. Moans spill from his throat, making you feel a little proud of what you have accomplished. 

You feel the burn inside you growing again, already so much closer after the last orgasm. Bradley's cock remains shallow, thrusting into you at a leisurely pace like he is in no hurry to do anything else. 

"I thought you were going to fuck me with your fat cock, Sir," you whine to him. His rhythm stutters, and he comes to a grinding halt in you. Bradley's eyes snap open. He is clearly shocked to hear your little taunt. 

He pulls out of you entirely, making you whimper at the loss. He flips you on your belly again, pulling your hips up to meet his. He slides back into you in a long hard stroke. Bradley presses you firmly into the bed, the side of your face smashing into the pillows. 

"Take it then," Bradley says, not relenting for even a moment to speak the words. At this angle, the head of his cock repeatedly hits your cervix. It punches the breath out of you each time.

Your legs are shaking, and you rut against him. You are desperate with the build up of your second orgasm, but it feels too far out of reach. You whine and resist the hold of his hand, pinning you down. That prompts him to push you harder into the mattress. 

"Just like that, princess," He moans loudly for you, his pace faltering just slightly, letting you know he is close. You are close too. You feel like you are on fire. Your skin feels like it's attached to you too tight. 

"Need more, need you," you beg him. Bradley listens. He doesn't go faster, but he thrusts into you harder. Each snap of his hips brings you closer to ecstasy. Wrapping his hand around your throat, he pulls you back against his chest. 

Bradley is the only thing you can process now. How his chest feels with its quick rise and falls against your back. How his large hand grips your throat, a steady, reassuring hold. How hot his breath is against your ear in short puffs and grunts. The way his hips grind into yours with a slight twist every time he bottoms out. How his other hand grips your waist hard, fingertips pressed into you, making indented flesh, like you might slip away from him. 

"How's that, princess?" He asks. 

"So good, you're so good." You chant for him as much as you can with your oxygen restricted. Desperate for something to grip, you dig your nails into the side of his thigh. 

Bradley groans, lowering his head where he bites into your shoulder. The tinge of pain and how he snaps his hips is all it takes. You are falling over the edge again. The tension wound tight in your core, flooding out of you and into your body.

Bradley spills into you a few thrusts later. Your body still shaking and your walls still occasionally fluttering around him in you. He rolls his hips into you a few more times and relaxes the tight hold he had on your hips and neck. He is praising you and pressing soft open mouth kisses anywhere he can reach. 

He gently pulls out of you. It's an immediately empty feeling that your body wasn't prepared for after spending so much time stuffed full of him. You collapse forward into the mattress again with jelly legs. You are exhausted. 

Bradley gives you water that he brought earlier. He presses yet another gentle kiss to your forehead before getting up from the bed. You hear him mutter something, but your brain is too fried to process it. 

The moment Bradley is out of the room, though, you start to panic. The emotions rise from deep in your chest and feel like they are going to strangle you, making it hard to breathe. 

You take a few shaky breaths before all of it bubbles to a boil, and tears stream down your face. Then, it only takes a few more breaths before they become full on sobs wracking your whole body. 

You wrap your arms around yourself and hiccup, trying desperately to stop the tears and the emotions flooding your system, but nothing seems to be working. 

You had only been crying a minute or two before Bradley was back in the doorway. Seeing the state you are in, he rushes over to your side, tossing the pajamas, towels, and sheets he had stacked in his arms to the side. 

"Baby, what's wrong?" He asks you. His voice is steady and slow, still raw from moaning your name. Bradley does so well in situations like this; he always keeps a level head. A source of steadiness and care. You briefly start to consider if that's one of the reasons he is such a fantastic pilot. 

Bradley repeats the question to you, and you flinch. Not a small flinch but a whole body flinch, expecting another spank to be delivered. It doesn't come; there is only Bradley, slowly rubbing your arms in an up and down motion trying to soothe you. He is making small shushing noises. 

You shift closer to him. Wrapping your arms around his neck and cling to him tight. You were almost in a fetal position with your legs pressed close to your chest. Bradley was quick on the uptake. He shifts, so he is leaning back against y'all's headboard. 

His arms wrap around your naked body, holding you close to his chest. 

"Tighter, please," you finally managed to request. Your fingers dig just a little bit into the skin of his neck. Bradley instantly flexes his arms, squeezing you a little tighter and a little closer to him. 

"Take your breaths with me, baby." You hear him mutter, but you can't do it. The sobs wracking your body are still too much. 

At least this time, you don't flinch waiting for punishment when you can't follow directions. Bradley starts to rock you back and forth, still making soothing noises, reminding you to breathe or following his own deep breaths. 

"I can't," you finally manage to gasp out between sobs. One of Bradley's arms unwraps from you to cradle your head, his thumb tracing smooth lines over your jaw and occasionally sweeping down your neck. 

"I got you, princess," he says, and you know it's true. 

You adjust your grip on him so that your arms wrap around his narrow waist, and you press your face almost harshly into the juncture of his shoulder and neck. You just breathe him in then, finally feeling some of the panic that had a vice grip on your throat release. The heavy feeling in your chest eases, allowing you to take deeper breaths. 

After too much effort, you can finally match his breathing. The moment you start to praise fills your ears from the deep rumble in his chest. 

"That's it, baby. You are so good for me." You process what he is saying, and the tears streaming down your face subside until they are only occasional, not constant. 

"Bradley," you whisper, mouthing the words into his neck more than anything else. 

"Yes, baby? What do you need?"

"Do you love me?"

"Of course," his answer is instantaneous, without doubt, or hesitancy. 

"Am I not good to you?" You ask him, closing your eyes and pressing your face into his neck again, unwilling to see any kind of reaction he might have to your words. 

"You are good to me, princess," he reassures you, but you feel the muscles in his arms tense where he is holding you.  

"Is this because I called you a brat?" He asks. 

"I didn't mean to be a brat." You defend yourself slightly. You release one of the arms holding him to you desperately and instead bring it closer so that you can trace the scars littering his neck and chest within reach for you. 

"I know you didn't mean to be a brat."

"I know you don't like brats."

"I don't," he agrees. "But I love you, so it's okay." 

More tears leak out of your eyes hearing him say that, and you have to suck in another ragged deep breath so you don't sob again. 

"If you love me, and I'm good to you. Then why don't you like taking care of me anymore?" You finally manage to push out. The motive behind all your actions and your insecurities is laid out in-between you. 

The words sit there in the tiny space you've left between you. They taste like when you forget to brush your teeth after going out drinking, sitting sour heavy in your mouth. You cringe at how they almost sound like an accusation against Bradley, against the most amazing man you have ever met. You instantly want to take them back, wishing you had kept them inside, put them into the lock box, and left them there. 

It's Bradley's breath that catches this time. You hear it as much as you feel it under you. His muscles freeze under and around you. You wait. Wait for his exhale. Wait for his muscles to relax, for him to unwind, and reassurances and excuses to follow. 

You are waiting too long. Bradley is completely frozen. You resist his hold on you, only willing and able to move away far enough from his grasp to scan his face. He is looking forward towards the far wall of your room. His eyes dart back and forth rapidly like he is reading a document. 

"Bradley?" His name inspires a reaction, which is somewhat of a comfort. He sucks in a few rapid breaths. His gaze flashes down to meet yours, and you are briefly consumed by the depths of it before he looks away back to the far wall. 

Bradley slowly relaxes, except for his arms around you. He crushes you close to his chest, not tighter than when you started crying, but nearly. 

"I haven't been taking care of you?" He finally asks you. It's a detached, distant tone of voice that you don't recognize from Bradley. 

You can't say anything now. You already regret the words and don't want to dig into them further. If you could rewind and go back to just a few minutes ago before you said them, you would. Bradley waits; he doesn't push you for an answer and doesn't punish you for not giving him one this time. He doesn't let go of you either. 

You decide to lie to him and shove your raw feelings into a box. You prepare to tell him how, of course, you've felt taken care of. You didn't know what you were even saying. They were just more bratty words, but he beats you to the punch. 

"You're right. I don't deserve a good girl like you."

"You do. You are amazing, Bradley."

"Please don't lie to me, princess." He gruffly tells you. Your heart clenches hard in your chest.

"It's not a lie." You stroke the side of his neck, trying to provide comfort. "You are the best man I've ever met."

He scoffs hearing that. "Not if I haven't been taking care of you. Then I hardly even deserve to be called a man at all." 

"I'm a grown woman. I don't need a man to take care of me. My hormones are probably just out of wack. That's where all this came from. Can we chalk it up to that and leave it?" 

"I know you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. You have to do it every time I leave. But you shouldn't have to when I am here. Plus, I'm not just any man."

"Please, Bradley. I promise it doesn't matter."

"Of course, it matters! How you feel will always matter to me." 

You sigh into his neck. The emotions in you pull so tight you know that if this conversation continues, you will likely break into tears again. 

"What do you need to hear for this to be better?"

"I need what I always need. I need honesty and the truth."

"You won't let me take it back, will you?" 

"No. I need you to tell me how you feel."

"I feel like you don't enjoy taking care of me anymore." You start, repeating what you already had said. You wait for him to say something, but he stays quietly listening, so you continue. 

"I feel like you are days away from breaking up with me. Sometimes, I feel like you would rather be anywhere but dealing with me. I feel like I'm a chore. I feel like I won't be your girlfriend by the time you next ship off. It feels like you are just waiting for the right moment, doing what you must until it's the right time or convenient to end it." 

You pause to take a deep breath. Waiting for him to say something now. 

"Fuck," Bradley sighs the word. It is under his breath, and you hear it only because you are cuddled so close to him. "That couldn't be further from the truth for me, baby. But you are right about something. I have no intention for you to be my girlfriend by the time I have to go again. I'm hoping you will be much more than that."

You have never felt your heart plummet and then rise again within such a short span of time. You are consumed with the need to see his face. You struggle against Bradley's arms holding you, wiggling until he lets you go. You climb out of his embrace and lie down on your side, motioning for him to do the same. Bradley lowers himself down on the bed until he is lying parallel to you. 

You pull him closer until various parts of you are still brushing, but you can stare at his face now. You reach up, cupping his cheek, and stare into his eyes like they hold the answers to the universe. You briefly consider that maybe they do. 

"I need examples," Bradley utters as his arm slings across your waist. 

"It's stupid, Bradley. My own made up insecurities over tiny things that aren't real." 

"It's not stupid. I want to know. We can only put these insecurities to rest if we acknowledge them. And, so, I can make sure I'm not hurting you. I would never intentionally hurt you," Bradley says with conviction. 

You sigh and trace the scar on his chin for a long moment trying to think of examples. "Last week, you didn't kiss me when you got home from the store. And sometimes you talk about our house like, it's just a temporary place, not our home."

"Baby, this is just a temporary place. I could get restationed any day."

"It's not about the actual house Bradley. It's about me. I know you'll get restationed at some point, or we will finally buy our own place. But when you talk about it like that, I sometimes feel like I'm not your home." The final sentence comes out in a broken whisper. 

Bradley's hand that is on your hip digs into the flesh hard. It makes you whine a little bit, more from the surprise of the grip than anything else. 

"You are the only thing I have to come home to. I don't care if we live here, in the back of the Bronco, or in a cardboard box. It wouldn't matter to me. You are my home, baby. I ain't got no one else." He searches your eyes like he is looking for something when he says those words. But, he must eventually find it because the edge of his lip quirks up he relaxes his hand again.

"I'll work on that," he promises you. "And I'll try not to forget any more kisses. If I do, I want you to stop me, no matter what's going on, and ask me if I forgot something. If you ever want kisses, baby, I am always more than happy to oblige."

You take him up on the offer right then and there, leaning forward and sealing your lips against his. It's a slow and tender kiss. The kind that you only have when someone knows you entirely. When Bradley pulls away, he leaves his forehead pressed against yours. 

"What are some other things?" He whispers the question. 

"You let me go to my last doctor's appointment alone," you say, trying to scrounge your mind for more random examples. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't think you would want me to be at your gynecologist appointment."

"You just didn't even offer. It's not like anyone in the world is more acquainted with my vagina than you and me." You laugh even saying the words, the heavy feeling in your chest finally subsiding. Bradley joins you, letting out a few chuckles. You hadn't actually wanted him to come to the appointment, but it was more about the point of him wanting to go. 

"I'll be at the next one," he promises you. 

"I don't actually want you to go," you start to tell him, but he cuts you off. 

"No takes backs, princess. If I am here, I will be at the appointment. Your birth control and uterine health are very important to me." You laugh at him shaking your head at his silliness. 

"What else?" Bradley asks you again. 

"I don't have anything else I can think of right now," you tell him honestly. 

"And when you think of some. What are you going to do?"

"I'll let you know," you say, but it's not in a convincing tone. 

"Thank you. That's all I ever want, is for you to talk to me. I can't help or fix things if I don't know what's wrong."

"You are just so perfect. The thought of bothering you to ask for more... it feels selfish."

"It's not selfish," he reassures you kindly. "I would do anything for you. I want to do everything for you." 

"I love you, Bradley," you tell him, kissing and pulling him close to your body. He kisses you back, his devotion for you bleeding into every movement of his mouth and how his hand starts to caress your side. 

You try to hold him to you when he pulls away this time. But he just tsks his tongue at you, giving you a goofy smile. 

"I need to change the sheets. You need to pee. And we should probably shower."

He moves to lift you up in his arms, but you squirm, pouting until he drops you back on the bed. 

"Princess, I thought we were done with being bratty." He groans out, but there is no real bite in his words, especially not with how he is smiling at you. 

"I think I might like being bratty sometimes." You tease him, spreading your sore body out for him like an invite. 

He scoops you into his arms again, ignoring your wiggles, walking towards the bathroom. "That's okay, princess. I like spanking you to teach you a lesson."

You hide your grin in his neck until he sets you down gently on the bathroom counter. Bradley starts the shower so it can warm up. Then he heads back to the bedroom to change the sheets, but not before giving you a pointed look. 

He is already back in your bedroom when you call after him, your voice still feeling a little horse. "Lieutenant Bradshaw?" 

"Yes, Ma'am?" He calls back. 

"Aren't you forgetting something?" 

He literally sprints back into the bathroom, which makes you giggle. Rooster comes to a little sliding stop on one of the floor mats in front of you. One of his large hands cups the back of your head and the other holds your cheek. You part your mouth in anticipation, but he kisses your forehead first. Then each one of your eyes and nose. 

"My love," he sighs the words, giving you a wide grin before finally kissing your mouth. 

The phrase bounces around your head a few times before making its way into your chest and settling warmly there, starting to blossom. You were his, and he was yours. Sometimes things can just be simple like that. 

[elvisabutler]

beggin' you for mercy

summary: austin knows what happens to good boys when they're bad boys and he hates it. and yet that has stopped him from being bad every once in a while. rating: m word count: 1029. warnings: orgasm control. orgasm denial. oral ( m, receiving ). allusions to oral ( f receiving ) and p in v sex. dom/sub dynamics. bit of mommy kink. author's note: consider this a faint continuation of yesterday's blurb for mommy kink. anyway! welcome to day four of kinktober orgasm control with austin butler. i am aware that some of y'all would have probably liked to see orgasm control with austin controlling the reader's orgasm, however, i was in a sub austin mood for this and i have enough requests for austin for the rest of kinktober that don't worry, y'all will get that exact thing. also please ignore the fact that i mixed up my days earlier this week. i think i'm just really excited to get to tomorrow because i'm a sucker for praise kink. thank you everyone who's read the past three days and had me marveling at the amount of notes because i wasn't sure anyone was going to read some of them. y'all are the best, truly. also tag for @oh-kurva because i did promise last night.

"Please." He groans, his hips bucking up uselessly in an effort to gain some friction, any kind of friction only to be met with air and your cunt so close and yet so far away from his aching cock.

"Please what, baby boy?" You ask, a smirk crossing your features. "What is my baby so needy for? You can tell mama."

"You know what's got me so needy. You've got me so needy. Seeing you has me this way. Just let me touch you, please." Austin's voice is high pitched, practically reedy in tone and you almost break there, but you know you must endure.

"Good boys know better than to come without mommy's permission. And what did you do while I was busy with work?" Your hand moves down Austin's chest, down his torso and right down to the v of his hips before you stop eyeing his reaction as you do. His body shudders just a bit, you note and you can see his muscles tensing so hard to try and not buck his hips up again.

"I played with myself and made a mess. But you were taking so long and you promised tonight would be about us. About me." He whines and a blush covers his face once he realizes it. He would be more put together, less whiny and less needy but it's been an hour and all he wants to do is come. He doesn't care where any more, just that he can.

Your eyebrow quirks up at his tone, noting the way he whines out me like a spoiled toddler and not like the 31 year old he is. You know you're getting there, you know you're getting to the point where he's learning his lesson. Maybe just another ten minutes, a little more teasing and he'll know truly what was wrong about what he did.

"And I told you that work calls for the next couple of months took priority over everything else. You said you understood that, said it was fine and you were patient enough to wait tonight. What changed?"

Austin leans his head back against the pillows and takes a few short heaving breaths before answering. "Your breasts. You- The dress you're wearing, it makes them look so good. Spent all night wanting to bury my face in them. Wanted to mark them up. Wanted you to- God, mama- suffocate me with them."

His words come out in a rush, half slurred once your hand slides down to touch his neglected cock. You said he couldn't come but your hand is right there squeezing and touching him in just the right way. How is he supposed to not. He shuts his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the feel of your hand.

For what it's worth, you clench your thighs together at his words and at how he starts to writhe on the bed his eyes shut like he's trying to escape the sensations of the room and everything else. Maybe- Maybe he's already learned his lesson. maybe you can cut it short this time.

"Austin, open your eyes and look at me." Your voice is soft as you lean over to whisper in his ear, your hand still moving slowly up and down his cock.

Austin forces his eyes open and realizes you're not by his face any more, not by his ear, instead you've slid down to his lap, and your mouth is hovering over his cock. He keens at the sight. "I'm looking. Please mama, please, no more teasing I'll be good. I'll do whatever you want tonight, I'll eat your pussy, I'll fuck you all night please please please."

You blow just a tiny bit of cold air onto his cock, watching his jaw clench so hard you feel he might have almost broken his teeth. "When you ask that nicely, I think I have to. But you have to promise no more touching like you did tonight. Or your punishment will be so much worse."

You don't wait to hear a yes before your mouth envelops his cock and his actual answer gets lost in a should of your name as his hands move to your hair. He's not in charge of the pace, but he needs something other than the sheets to grab at. You hum at the slight tug, your tongue tracing the underside of his cock slowly before playing with the tip. You know this won't last long, Austin's cock was practically drenched in pre-come by the time you even touched him, but still you figure both you and him might as well enjoy it. Your hand moves to his balls, playing with them in your hand as you feel Austin trying not to move his hips too much. Another hum, a longer one leaves your lips again when you move your hand and attempt to relax your throat, grabbing at Austin's hips to give him a cue to try and force his cock in a little more. Your mouth tenses just a tad before you realize he got the message and your head bobs as his hand twists even more into your hair until he's growling and groaning and you feel the first hint of his come before he lets out a choked out cry of your name. He's practically trembling when you pull off of him after you've swallowed, giving his cock little kitten licks as you do. His cock is still interested, twitching in a valiant attempt to get right back into the action when you finally pull up and give Austin a kiss, letting him taste himself on you.

"Good boy." A pause. "Now, what was this about eating my pussy? I think you might have earned it now. Earned all the attention I want to give you tonight."

Austin looks at you fo a moment, his chest heaving as he tries to settle himself before you see a glint in his eye as he slinks off the bed and onto the floor where he can put himself directly at eye level with your cunt.

"I worked up an appetite, mama, I hope you're ready."

[dilucids]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCelebrity crush, Genshin boys idol! au

admitting you're their celebrity crush and their reaction to your reaction

includes: kaeya, diluc, zhongli and xiao

( can't stop thinking about idol! au genshin. any type of celebrity but it's hinted that you're a singer in xiao's. )

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ〔 KAEYA ALBERICH ━━ FROSTWIND SWORDSMAN 〕

━━ this man is sooooo fucking slick with it.

━━ he'll slyly bring it up in an interview or a live with a smirk on his face and then act as if it never happened when someone questions him.

━━ his members just stares at him when he brings you up, knowing, that beneath that sly persona and nonchalant act, there was millions pounds worth of fan merchandise in his room.

━━ he would evade the subject and if it's an interview, the host would have to pry answers from his members instead as he sits there proudly with a smile on his face as his members tell his fan behaviour instead of him.

━━ in a live, he would somehow convince his fans they were hallucinating but someone would post the clip and everyone would just go ballistic, it'd be one of those "top ten things i can't believe kaeya managed to get away with: gaslighting his fans into believing they were crazy."

"Who's your favourite celebrity?" Kaeya reads out from the comments passing quickly through his Instagram live, he pretends to think. A smile forms on his face when he 'decides' on an answer, "probably [Name]."

He watches the comments speed through even quicker before changing the subject, dropping the matter as if it never happened. His fans are all freaking out though, wanting to get more details on his crush on the celebrity but Kaeya ignores all comments about the subject. They never die down though, only ending when Kaeya himself ends the live.

━━ you may have ended on the same show some time after him and the host brings it up ( 100% planned for views ).

━━ it makes you smile because you've already been informed about this topic by your fans and kaeya's.

━━ you'd end up thanking kaeya for the support and say that you've also been lowkey a fan of his group but you've never openly stated that to anyone.

━━ his fans and your fans immediately get to work and start tagging kaeya's insta/twitter, group and personal, under the clip of you shyly admitting you're a fan of his also and he goes mental.

━━ probably sits there watching the entire interview with a huge smile on his face, and it doesn't leave, not even after he finishes the interview ( bonus: diluc is very disturbed ).

━━ HUGE ego boost for the rest of the day. kaeya's normally very confident but he's extra confident, like starts strutting around like he's the shit and even had the balls to nod his head at diluc as if to say "what's up" with the largest shit eating grin on his face.

━━ diluc definitely thought he was picking a fight.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ〔 DILUC RAGNVINDR ━━ DARKNIGHT HERO 〕

━━ more likely to come from one of his members than him.

━━ or he'd be very smooth with it, and brings it up rather subtly. it'd be a small "oh, i ingest their content and enjoy it" and he'd just continue about his day

━━ and his fans will still go insane because diluc actually enjoying something seems weird, especially another celebrity's work

━━ this would obviously reach you, who was an open fan of his group, and you'd freak out when you see it but wouldn't bring it up because he only said he enjoyed your work, not he was a fan.

━━ would definitely get questioned if he was being interviewed on a talk show, he wouldn't evade the question.

━━ he doesn't really see a point in lying, so he simply shrugs and tells the host that he is a fan and owns some merchandise.

"Diluc, a few fans are curious about your statement the other day," the host redirects the questions to Diluc, who raises an eyebrow. "Is it true that you're a fan of [Name]?"

The question makes his heart pick up a little, he leans back on his chair and clears his throat, composing himself before nodding. "I am a fan," the host seems happy by his response. The conversation continues to steer in this direction, asking Diluc if he had attended any fan meetings or merchandise, how he would feel if you two collaborated for a project and then finally ending once the host asks other members if they were fans of anyone.

━━ he thinks nothing of it, continuing with his day as usual but when he gets mentioned by your twitter? the man loses his shit.

━━ he sits there staring at his screen like he was hallucinating and literally tunes everything else out, staring at your little: "i'd love to work with you too!" message with a small smiley face at the end.

━━ he checks the account multiple times just in case it was one of his fans trolling him but clicking on the @ takes him back to your account so he gives in at some point

━━ he types out a normal, professional "thank you, i hope a time comes when we can collaborate" and "i look forward to more of your works" but he's still losing his shit.

━━ stays in his mind for at least a week.

━━ fans always bring up the fact that y'all never did end up collaborating.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ〔 ZHONGLI ━━ VAGO MUNDO 〕

━━ the public is very aware.

━━ he's never made an attempt to hide how he is a fan, not even the massive poster in his room or the little keychain that he hangs on his bag nor the red eyeliner belonging to a makeup brand that you became a brand embassador for, also now one of his favourite brands.

━━ so no one is really surprised when he talks about you or your upcoming work, what is kinda surprising is when he straight up says that he says you're his ideal type.

━━ not because it's shocking that you'd be anyone's ideal type but because they didn't expect the out of the blue question from host and it's even more mind boggling when the man doesn't even stutter nor even think before just saying your name.

━━ members are sat beside him literally losing their shit in both negative ( scandals and shit ) and positive ( it's fucking hilarious ) ways as he just blinks.

━━ he doesn't even look the slightest bit worried as he stares dead straight through the host's head.

━━ obviously scandals emerge, there are positive and negative reactions. some people suddenly realise how good you two would look together and others are mad you "stole" their man because we have delulus in all fandoms.

"So Zhongli," the host starts before clearing his throat, obviously a tad uncomfortable under the eldest member's sudden gaze, "who is your ideal type?" The members also seem curious, as they stop their interactions, staring over at their unusually emotionless member.

One member laughs, waving the question off as a joke and as a way to avoid any possible scandals, knowing that Zhongli wouldn't filter his words due to his lacking understanding of social cues. "C'mon, there's no way that he has an id━━"

"If I had to say, then [Name] suits my preferences." The member who tried to wave it off blinks, staring at Zhongli like he just murdered someone and other members laugh. The host seems pleasantly surprised, peering at the camera with a raised eyebrow and a certain look on his face. The entire studio never gets over it.

━━ it's brought to your attention on twitter because twitter is usually where shit goes down.

━━ you've always been aware that zhongli has been a fan but you've never been able to speak up about it due to your management.

━━ luckily for you, your contract with your previous strict company had ended just a while ago and under your new management, you were more free to do whatever you wanted.

━━ so obviously, you quote tweet the video, tag his account and say in a jokingly way that he should take you out on a date first.

━━ he doesn't publicly reply to your tweet because he already got in trouble with his management for answering such a risky question anyways and your tweet is a little too suggestive.

━━ but he also wants you to know he has seen the tweet. so his solution? to slip into your dms.

━━ and all of a sudden, the next time you're both seen together, you're besties? so people started connecting dots and shit, were they good at connecting them. moral of the story: never underestimate zhongli fans because collectively, they may be able to beat zhongli in an iq test.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ〔 XIAO ━━ CONQUEROR OF DEMONS 〕

━━ best believe this man got death threated or held at gunpoint into admitting you're his celebrity crush.

━━ or he didn't do it at all and his members confessed for him just to tease him.

━━ happens on a group live, members are just vibing.

━━ xiao is sat in the back somewhere, scrolling through his phone with his earphones in so he doesn't notice his members shifting the camera to him or jumps onto him whilst holding the camera.

━━ when he does notice though, he takes out his earbud and your song just blARES through his earphone and it's fucking loud.

━━ he immediately turns it down but his fellow member already has this shit eating grin on his face and jumps onto xiao, successfully grabbing his phone and showing the live of 100k+ people.

━━ his homescreen is one of those "boyfriend/girlfriend/partner material" lockscreens of you and it shows that your song had been playing.

━━ xiao literally attacks his members and grabs his phone back, walking off to escape the embarrassment but can hear the echoing laughter as he walks down the hallway and slams his door closed.

Xiao lets out a sudden 'oompf' when his members glomps right ontop of him, grinning widely as they held up a camera to show off themselves and Xiao. Glancing at the camera, Xiao takes off an earbud, freezing when a loud upbeat tune echoes throughout the open area. Xiao ignores the feeling of his face heating up and turns down the song, ignoring the obvious gleeful stare of his member.

Almost on instinct, he moves his phone away but curse his parents for their genes because all it takes is a little stretching for his member to have his greasy fingers all over his phone, ripping it out of his hands and immediately running away to shield themselves from the wrath of all 5" and a bit of Xiao. When they deem it safe, they click on the home button of the screen, grinning amused at the homescreen.

"Look at fanboy Xiao!" And just like that, Xiao's cold demeanour had been shatteres infront of a plethora of people.

━━ you find it one of the most endearing things ever.

━━ literally how could you not? you find pride in yourself to have such a popular member of an idol group enjoy your work and it helps gain a little more confidence in yourself.

━━ it's brought up on a talk show kinda casually where the host is one of your friends so they are slightly teasing you for it all the whilst remaining on the professional side.

━━ and it's obvious to say that you're embarrassed by the way you chuckle and mess with your fingers and hair, but you hold yourself together anyways and manage a sweet "thank you for the support" to xiao when the host asks if you wanted to say something in case he was watching.

━━ and the very next day, on xiao's official instagram, he has a signed album and poster of yours, tagged and everything.