#people are much more interesting than we give them credit for

[penroseparticle]

Nothing annoys me more lately than "Going to the gym isn't a personality" like yes??? it is???

People talk about the things they care about, that they spend time on, that they put effort into. That includes their bodies?

I work with a lot of athletes. Like more than your typical amount. And they will happily debate protein powders, tell you they're doing a new training regimen, talk about Lat Pulls like having opinions on them is something obviously I have as well. Going to the gym is exciting for them- they tell me they hit a new personal best bench press, or are trying to hit a specific weight class, or are working on knee strength after their surgery. They compare times they threw up or got too dizzy.

The same way when I talk to MTG players they tell me about their new EDH deck, or talk about that one wombo combo they pulled in Draft, or this asshole at FNM. It's all just nuts and bolts for a thing they care about. I don't know much of anything about Knitting but a lot of my friends do, and I would NEVER tell them that "Knitting isn't a personality" just because I personally find it boring or whatever. Because I would be an asshole.

Going to the gym is a ~personality~, it's just not one you want to talk about. You don't care about machine vs. free weights. You don't want to know how long they spent working out this morning. Frankly, you want them to do the work at the gym and not give you a peek behind the curtain. You want people to look good, look fit, look how you want to, but not talk about how much work and effort it takes to do so. Working out to you is a chore, and an unpleasant one at that, so you'd rather they not remind you of it.

But exercising your body shouldn't be a chore, it should be something you enjoy- your favorite rock climbing place, the dance class you and your friends take, etc. These people LIKE going to the gym. They would gladly tell you about it. And if for some reason you are talking to someone who works out religiously but hates every second of it- first of all, yikes, buddy you don't have to live that way- but second of all, that person will not talk to you about the gym. They will talk to you about what they are actually passionate about.

You don't have to enjoy their hobby! You can think the gym is boring, or exercise isn't interesting. But like. say that. The gym can be a personality. Anything can be a personality.

#9 times out of ten when someone says Oh I workout when you ask what they do for fun #they are prepared for you to not want to talk about it #but if you give like. a couple followup questions to them to show you really mean it #boy oh boy I hope you're ready to hear about the draconian gym policy against stringers and whey vs. pea protein #people are much more interesting than we give them credit for #anyways I almost made a dating profile again and got mad and made this post instead after snooping around #I'm yelling at an imaginary person here for the record #or rather a real person but not a person I actually want to confront

[curseofpower]

"It'd be super interesting to hear these counterarguments 👀."

@goopi-e Well let's see… where should I start? The mass assumption that Ganondorf just sort of left his kingdom for dead and stayed holed up in Hyrule Castle for seven entire years, (lolwut???) no longer caring about his fellow gerudos or even letting them know what the hell was going on?

Or something else? Maybe something a little dicier? Like the existence of gibdos? Or the fact he didn't save Nabooru after his moms decided her punishment? ... That last one might be a little self explanatory, though, if you understand his mindset.

Ganondorf is a man with a very strong sense of justice and a very skewed sense of morality. I think it's actually because he cared that he'd ever punish or let his people be punished like she was. Twinrova were his mothers too, so, it's likely he trusted their judgement more than anyone else's. A lower ranking pair of gerudo might not have gotten away with dealing justice in his name like that.

But I digress. I know I have to be missing something. I'm just very tired today and have a lot on my mind. Do feel free to let me know, though, if any of that interests you or if there's another thing I forgot to address that you want me to go into.

#q&a #personal hc #thank you for showing interest though. I sometimes feel like my ideas and opinions do little but make me a pariah. #haha... I say 'sometimes' like it's not actually 'always' #anyway when you factor in the fact Ganondorf can teleport/see and speak over long distances the whole 'leaving his people for dead' thing #becomes even MORE ridiculous. Like... come on people. Use your noggin. WHY would they worship someone who abandoned them for seven years??? #Especially when it was clear they had a lot of conflict with the Hylians during those years. but that's just my 2 cents. #And yes I'm aware there was a small group that were likely either anti war or pro hylian and those are who we see at the end credits of OoT #But with any group of people with strong opinions there will always be some with opposing views so I do not take that as a significant #sign of 'abandonment'. if he truly had abandoned them we would have actually heard about it. #(The fact the end-credit gerudos were all wearing white too denotes to me some kind of shared relation or belief system between them.) #Instead we hear them sing his praises and even gossip stones will tell you how much the gerudos love their king. #All of which I think deserves more attention than we give it credit for. #He wasn't just a hero to his people in totk he was that and MORE to them in OoT. #ANYWAYS I'M DONE WITH MY TAG NOVEL. #*SLAMS BEER ON TABLE* *IT TIPS OVER AND SPILLS EVERYWHERE* #BYE

[lowkeychenle]

And Then It Was [ZCL] (M)

Description: After your marriage with Chenle was arranged by your parents for a company merger, things with him aren't quite like you expect. In your life full of obligations, he's determined to finally give you the ability to make your own choices. Genre: Smut/Fluff/Angst (arranged marriage!au, rich families using their children as business mergers yk) Content Warnings: Rich, generational family trauma, family secrets, reader in her men suck era, explicit, protected sex, mentions of pregnancy (no actual pregnancy in the fic), reader feels obligated to have children, explicit, unprotected sex, use of the pet names 'baby' and 'darling', dirty talk, oral (f receiving) Word Count: 28.2k Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!Reader (features Jeno, Jisung, Jaemin, and Mark, but mostly Jeno and Jisung! (sorry idk where Renjun and Haechan are in this fic?????)) A/N: Y'all tumblr really f'in hates me because it was so difficult to format this fic? like it did not want to let me put the whole thing on here. So if the last section is oddly formatted, that's why and I'msosorry :'( (p.s. thank you so much for 700 followers!!!)

Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :) Taglist: @midmourn @nominsgirl @winwinscvnt @bugcattie @sleepyvic @chenlesfeetpic @tolerable-tears @yutaswh0re @bitchzitschimi @velvtcherie @leefullsun @pnkified @valerieluvsyu @defzcl

Chenle’s hand grips yours loosely, resting between the two of you right on the crack between the couch cushions. All of this is a formality, down to the smile plastered on your face. It started out simple, like something out of a movie, honestly, but even movies have to roll the end credits at some point.

“So, tell us the story of how you met,” the interviewer begins, crossing her legs as she looks at you in complete interest.

“We’ve known each other for ages,” Chenle says.

Lie. You’ve known of each other for ages. You’re only here with an oversized ring on your finger to complete your family’s merger with Chenle’s. What big news that was, two heirs of two of the biggest companies around the world falling in love. If only that were true in the slightest.

“Wow, way to make it sound romantic.” You laugh, reaching across to push his arm—gently, of course. “He makes it so lackluster. But to be completely transparent, it wasn’t…anything crazy. We did meet years ago, and we’ve been friends since then. Gosh, probably since we were sixteen?”

“Fifteen,” Chenle corrects you and sends an award winning smile your way. You’d be inclined to believe him if everything wasn’t scripted.

“He always has been a little more detail-oriented than me.”

The interview drags. You and Chenle were officially married just over a month ago, and while you know it’s your owed duty to your family, you wish optics weren’t so important. After all, legally binding yourself to secure a company was one thing, but physically binding yourself to a man you barely know? You wouldn’t dream of it. Even holding his hand feels odd, not to mention his palms are sweaty.

Your honeymoon had ended shortly before the interview. You’d been gone for four weeks, and it was the last bit of privacy you’d have when it comes to your ‘relationship’ with Chenle. You got to know him enough to where you’d be comfortable sharing an oversized house with him, but there were still a lot of mysteries between you two—mysteries you were sure would never get solved. There are a lot of good things about Chenle. He’s smarter than most people you’ve met, he knows how to make jokes and take them, he’s nice to look at, to hold a conversation with, but you don’t love him. You’d been of the mind that you wanted to marry for love since you were young, but some things are overshadowed by your duties. By money.

“There aren’t many people in this world that don’t just…immediately bow down to powerful men. It was…interesting to say the least, because throughout my entire life I’d always just been given respect. From the moment I met (Y/N), I knew I’d have to work for it. For her respect, I mean. She’s just as confident and much more intelligent than any other man I’ve ever worked with.” Chenle squeezes your hand.

That wasn’t in the script. It’s almost enough to have you break character and forget your next line. “Is that so?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he chuckles.

“Tried and true,” he replies with ease. “You really are extraordinary, you know.”

Can’t script a blush rising to your cheeks. It’s something about the way he makes direct eye contact with you that has your face burning.

Grinning, he turns back to the interviewer. “I have a lot of things to be grateful for in life. Truly, I do. I’m very fortunate for all of the good my family has done for me and for having things set up for me from the start. One thing I never could’ve imagined was that it could get better. Meeting her changed my life, and if I had to, I’d give everything else to keep her next to me.”

That time, your smile does fall, but you quickly catch yourself. Your heart picks up its pace in your chest, but you know it’s all part of the script. It has to be. He’d never give up his money, his family, his lifestyle for something as simple as you. You desperately want to pull your hand away, but you’ll wait until the cameras stop rolling.

As soon as you and Chenle are behind the tinted windows of his car, you drop his hand and scoot all the way over to have some semblance of peace. None of this truly makes sense to you. You’re much too young to be worried about your marriage to another person equally as young as you, yet you can’t help but mull over each word that left his mouth today.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“Of course.” You pull your phone out of your purse and scroll through your social media with a sigh.

The driver pulls away from the spot, and after a few minutes, you look over to find Chenle watching you.

“What?”

“Is that it?” He clasps his hands together in his lap.

You scoff. “Oh, I’m sorry. Are we to keep acting while we’re alone, too? It’s exhausting.”

“You don’t even want to…try to keep getting to know each other? You’re just done?” He pauses, tongue wetting his lips. “We’re here for the long haul, (Y/N). We signed a legally binding contract. Divorce isn’t an option ever. We may as well try and—”

“All due respect, Chenle, I’d rather not know you. What happens if I do, and then I hate everything about you? Ignorance is bliss. Why risk hating you when I can just tolerate you instead?”

“Is it the hate you don’t want to risk?” His question catches you off guard, the confidence laced in his tone sending sparks of irritation through you.

“Are you insinuating that you think I could fall in love with you?”

“There’s no insinuation. I’ll tell you with full certainty that you would.” Chenle’s dark eyes narrow, and he shifts in his seat. “You fear failure. But a marriage failure would be easier if you’re not in love, right? No feelings to cloud your logical judgment.”

“For such a smart man, that was an incredibly stupid statement.” You scoff, setting your phone in your lap. “This is a job, not a marriage.”

“Not according to our sealed certificate.”

“Burn it for all I care. I’m not here for you. I’m here for my family, so I could’ve been married off to anyone. Don’t think that means I’ll allow you to control me. What’s mine is still mine. If I choose to see someone outside the marriage, that’s my own choice.”

“Ah.” He inhales slowly. “You’re already in love.”

“Wrong again.”

“Then why is that the first thing you say?”

“Because I have a duty to you. An obligation. But that does not mean you’re obligated to my heart.” You look straight forward, refusing to acknowledge the heat of his stare boring into your side.

“At least make sure you’re using protection.” He clicks his tongue.

“That was also in the contract. Didn’t you read it?” You tap your foot. “‘Extramarital relations require usage of effective birth control methods, and I may not bear another man’s child.’”

“I’m sorry, what?” He gapes at you. “Are you serious right now?”

When you laugh, his eyebrows furrow deeply.

“What’s funny?”

“No, no, I just forgot. You’re the man. You’re expected to stray from the marriage because you obviously don’t have everything life can offer. It’s okay for you to get someone else pregnant because you don’t have to physically have the child. Ridiculous.”

“And you think that’s my intention? Seriously?”

“It’s an expectation in every arranged marriage, I assume.” You cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t care what you do, Chenle. Just act like you respect me at least.”

“Okay, now hold on.” He scratches his forehead, his thought process basically written out across his face. “You were the one that mentioned extramarital relationships. I was never going to suggest it because I’d never do something like that. I don’t care what our…relationship is like, it’s still a marriage. You’re my wife, whether we like it or not, and I’m not going to do anything that would undermine you or the legacy you’ve already created. Regardless of what you believe, I do respect you. Honestly.”

“I…” you trail off, swallowing roughly. “I’d prefer silence for the rest of the drive.”

Chenle runs his tongue over his teeth, but he nods.

“Do we have to share a room?” you ask as you take your earrings out. Placing them on the vanity in front of you, you stare at Chenle through the mirror, watching as he removes his suit jacket and tie.

“We don’t have to do anything.” Chenle shakes his head and untucks his shirt from his pants. “If that’s what you want, I’ll stay in another room.”

“What?” You frown. “This is your house. You should keep the master bedroom.”

“Stop thinking like that,” he says, working on his buttons. “It’s yours now, too.”

He stops halfway down, grabbing his shirt and sweatpants to change into.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” His voice seems different, almost cold. Distant.

“Chenle,” you call out, turning in your chair to face him directly.

He sighs, stops, and looks back at you. “Yeah?”

“Before you go, can we…get something out of the way?”

“More things.” He presses his lips together in a thin line, but eventually nods and takes a few steps closer. “By all means.”

This time, it’s your palms that are sweating. You grip the armrest and flounder for the words you want to say. It’s rare for you to get flustered or shy with anyone, so acting this way in front of him has heat rising to your cheeks.

“We’re expected to have children,” you finally spit out. “Heirs. We carry two legacies on our backs.”

He shifts on his feet, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he glances away from you. “This is what you want to get out of the way?”

“I…I just think it’s a good idea for us to put our…expectations out there early.”

“About sex or babies?”

“The only reason we’d ever…is to have babies.” You try to maintain your strong facade, but the conversation makes you more nervous than you’d care to admit.

“Right, because thinking that you’re sleeping with me out of obligation is incredibly sexy.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “We don’t even have to have sex to get you pregnant, you know. There are other options. Do you even actually want children? Or is that purely out of obligation as well?”

“Everything I do is out of obligation.”

“Not anymore.” He walks closer, resting his hand on the edge of the vanity. “You’re my wife now. You do what you want, and you do it for you. No one else. Understood?”

You stand up, obliterating the minuscule distance between the two of you. Your chest almost brushes his, and you’re nearly distracted by his half-unbuttoned shirt. Tilting your head, you scan over his face.

“You’re saying there’s not anything you want from me?”

“Wanting and demanding are two very different things.” He doesn’t back down, his impenetrable gaze locked on yours.

“And what is it that you want?”

“For someone who doesn’t care, you sure are inquisitive,” Chenle remarks.

“Don’t let my level of interest stop you.”

His eyes narrow. “How long have we known each other?”

“I can tell you our first real conversation was just over six months ago. We were informed of this…situation.” You sigh. “Why?”

“I was relieved to find out it was you.” He gulps. “To know that you are someone I’m…attracted to. That we could maybe one day have something real in the wake of this…joke of an arrangement.”

“Relieved?”

“Yes.” He nods without hesitation. “And that is what I want. A real life, real love, real family. And while everything else may not be ideal, I’d never force you to give me any of those things. As I’ve said, you’re free to make your own choices. Whether they include me or not.”

His voice is soft, barely carrying over to you from his spot mere inches away. Your heart pounds in your chest from his proximity, his words, him. You don’t want to risk anything, and the consequences far outweigh the rewards of a relationship like this.

“Good.” You nod. “I’ll remember that.”

“I expect nothing less.” He takes a step back, unintentionally shattering the tension between the two of you. “Have a good night, (Y/N).”

But for some reason, once he closes the door behind him and leaves you alone in this giant, extravagant bedroom, you truly wonder what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into.

“I mean, is that a bad thing?” Jisung’s voice carries through the phone, shuffling around with documents in the background.

Your cousin always did have trouble seeing things from your side. You sigh. “It is a bad thing. Why can’t he just be a normal man? I’m not going to beg anyone to impregnate me, if that’s what he’s waiting for—”

“(Y/N),” he says, tone laced with disbelief. “After that whole conversation, that’s what you got out of that? That he wants you to beg him?”

“What else am I supposed to get?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you study yourself in the mirror. Despite the stress as of late, you still seem miraculously put together.

“That he actually cares about you. And wants something real.”

“Then his family picked his wife incorrectly,” you insist. “I’m here because I was told to be. And why risk a lifetime of unhappiness and hate when we could just…tolerate each other?”

“Not everything has to be—”

“You were supposed to be on my side for this.” Your chest deflates, and you put him on speaker to apply your lipstick and put your earrings in.

“I’m always on your side, even if you think I’m not. I’ve met Chenle, too. You could’ve been much worse off for a company merger.”

“Right, so I should be grateful?” You snort. “Grateful that my husband doesn’t want to have—”

“Insufferable,” your cousin cuts you off. “You’re insufferable. The whole world is not out to get you. In the position you’re in, you need every single ally you can get. Chenle especially. He’s one of the most powerful men in the country. Imagine what that could do for you.”

“Yes, because powerful men are so enticing for me.” You roll your eyes.

“You don’t have to love him. Nobody expects that of you, but you can at least be friends with him.” Jisung clicks his tongue. “Give him a shot, okay? He’s not an asshole, and from what you’ve told me, he seems to be trying with you.”

You tap your fingers on the vanity. “I have a business meeting with him and his board. Guess I’ll see you in a few.”

“That you will. Talk to you soon.”

As the line cuts, you head out of Chenle’s—your—room, and head down the hall and out the door. Today is a new day, and the first way to present your dominance to your husband is to talk business. You’ve always been good at keeping your composure. While the buildings for your family’s company and Chenle’s were on opposite sides of town, the merger gave you unlimited access to both. Chenle was his own respective CEO, while your father still held the technical title at yours.

COO had been sitting in your pocket for years, and your father told you the only way he’d relinquish his CEO title onto you is if you married. And produced an heir without any public miscommunication. Essentially, your heir would, under no uncertain circumstances, be conceived and birthed in a conventional way.

You’re the last one to arrive in the conference room. The walls are mostly windows, overlooking the bustling city below you. You inhale deeply at the sight, and Chenle looks up at you, standing as soon as he finds you in the room. The rest of the board follows suit, and you almost scowl at the realization that the only open seat is right next to your husband. You don’t recognize any of them since this is solely for Chenle, but he insisted you were to be included on all business discussions from the moment you were married.

You stand next to Chenle, staring down at the five men around you. “Sit. Standing on my behalf is a waste of time.”

All of them listen to you, Chenle included, leaving you the lone pillar in a room full of money.

“Thank you for waiting for me.”

You don’t ever apologize for being late. Some things are out of your control. Sitting, you move your chair closer to the table. Chenle leans in, close enough for his lips to brush your ear. “I told you to just drive with me.”

You turn to him, unintentionally scanning over his face while he’s so close, and give him a small, fake smile. “And I told you I travel alone.”

It’s the first time you see annoyance pull at his brows. The only thing it does for you is make you give yourself a mental tally mark. Winning is your strong suit.

“Late on the first day isn’t a good look,” the man in the back on the right says. “It’s almost as if it’s not important to you.”

“First day?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Bold of you to assume I haven’t been involved from the moment I signed a wedding certificate.”

“That’s hardly an excuse—”

“Jaemin,” Chenle interrupts him. “It won’t happen again. Leave it alone.”

Anger bubbles in your stomach as you watch the man at the end—Jaemin—immediately back down. Your words weren’t enough, but the second Chenle opens his mouth, the argument’s over? With the group of men, you talk financials from last quarter. You follow along easily thanks to the binder of data Chenle provided you with. Stopping on the fourth page, you frown.

Leaning over to Chenle, you nudge his shoulder. When you point at the page, his eyes follow. You turn your head to whisper in his ear, “This charge isn’t itemized. Little amounts may be fine, but a $143,000 charge with no itemization from one of your departments can’t be normal.”

“You’ve got sharp eyes,” he mutters, almost appreciatively.

“Obligations make you that way,” you return, brushing your hair back as you lean against your chair. Chenle’s button-up sleeves are rolled to his elbows, the tip of his pen tapping on the table as he listens to Jisung talk.

Chenle’s smart not to bring anything up just yet, as he’s likely to do more research before asking his team what is going on with something like that. You cross your legs and listen intently, but most of it is beyond your scope in his company, anyway.

“You’ll also have to decide on new positions as well.” Another man speaks up from beside your cousin.

“And what positions are those, Mark?” Chenle asks.

“COO and CFO nominations for the board to vote.”

“There isn’t any need for nominations for COO.” Chenle frowns.

“Why’s that?” One of the men, Jeno, follows up.

“Isn’t it obvious? The only person qualified for such a role is my wife.” Chenle crosses his arms over his chest, but this time, you can’t stop your outward reaction. Your jaw drops as all eyes fall on you, and you give him an incredulous look.

“Are you serious?”

“Why is this a surprise?” he inquires, gaze meeting yours.

It’s a surprise because nowhere in your signed contract did it say you were entitled to a position of power at his company.

“(Y/N) is an excellent candidate. She’s done great things at my uncle’s company,” Jisung butts in, nodding at you. “If it were up to a vote, she’d have mine.”

“We’ll reconvene for the vote. I have several candidates for CFO listed in the binders you received today, so you may vote on those as well.” Chenle pauses. 

You don’t realize your leg bouncing up and down until his palm presses against your knee. The movement is undetectable to everyone else, but it makes every ounce of air dissipate from your lungs. You calm down in an instant, no matter how much you hate to say it, and you clench your fists together in your lap.

“For now, my wife and I are going home,” he continues. “Have a good and productive day today.”

Everyone stands as he does, and you stare at him briefly when he extends his arm out to you. In that split second, you make eye contact with Jisung, who nods in encouragement. You let out a nearly invisible sigh, but you wrap your fingers around the crook of his elbow and allow him to lead you from the room. Once you’re far enough away from everyone, he still doesn’t let you go, a somewhat proud half-smile on his face. “After you pointed out that discrepancy, I almost switched gears and made you CFO instead.”

“You’ll learn quite fast that numbers aren’t really my strong suit.” You don’t even attempt to remove your grip on him. “My attention to detail makes up for the…lack of numerical intelligence.”

“I hope I didn’t take you too off-guard.” He opens the door to the building, disconnecting your arms to place his hand on the small of your back to guide you.

“Please.” You chuckle and shake your head. “You? Take me off-guard?”

“Competitive, too, huh?” He raises an eyebrow at you as he glances around at the different people with cameras surrounding you. Whether to keep you away from them or to keep up appearances, his hand slides from your back to your hip, gently pulling you closer to his side.

“Let’s just say I stopped being invited to family game night,” you admit.

Once the two of you make it to the car, you barely realize you’re disobeying your own rule of traveling alone. He grasps your hand to help you into the backseat, ignoring the flashing lights behind him as he watches you slide over.

He gets in after you, closing the door with a huff. “That’ll be a headline tomorrow.”

“You helping me into the car?”

“You smiled at me.”

“We’re married.”

“Nobody believes it.” He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair.

After a moment of your silence, he reaches over to grab your hand. You surprise even yourself when you allow him.

“I’m sorry. It’s not your problem. And it doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks.”

“Don’t apologize.” You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter, Chenle. We’ll get our…obligations out of the way, and then you can find the love you claim you want.”

His jaw tightens as he looks forward, his grip on you loosening. “Right.”

“Why?” you ask. “Why is that what you want? With me, or with anyone.”

“Love is good for you.” He shrugs. “To have someone who actually cares for you more than themselves just because they want to. Ever since I was young, I wanted to marry for love, but I’d always understood it wasn’t in the cards for me. But I figured I’d at least be able to try. With whoever it was, at least I’d be able to try to be a proper husband.”

There’s much more complexity behind Chenle than what you initially gave him credit for. You figured he’d be the typical CEO, a man high on power who will do everything and anything to not only keep it, but to grow his influence. The version of him you see now doesn’t support that original thought, but you have a hard time believing it.

“Life is already dull and loveless as it is. Rich families don’t exactly enjoy time with their relatives. I figured you, of all people, would understand where I’m coming from in that aspect.” He fidgets with his wedding band. “I don’t want to bring children into a world where they won’t be loved.”

“You think I wouldn’t love my own children?” you ask.

“That’s not what I said.” He glances at you. “Children deserve a complete family. One with parents who not only love them, but each other. I didn’t have that growing up, and I refuse to put anyone else through it.”

“I see.” You understand his point all too well, but you don’t see the big deal. Even if you two were in love and had children, wouldn’t you still have nannies and cooks and all of the things that you had as a child?

“Again, I’m not forcing you into anything. So, you don’t have to try with me if you don’t want to. But I’m not searching for it somewhere else. Since we…are obligated to have children, I wouldn’t put them through a situation where they view their father as a cheater. When I signed that contract and the marriage certificate, I signed my life away to you. Sure, it wasn’t in a traditional way or necessarily…by choice, but we’re here.”

“Wow, you sure know how to woo a woman.”

“You’ve made your stance clear. All I ask is that whoever you…” he trails off and scoffs. “Whoever you decide to be with, you keep them away from any future children. And we’ll never force them into a marriage like this.”

“You want our children to marry for love?”

“Of course, I do.” He nods.

“Chenle, I…”

This time, you reach over to him to stop his excessive movement. The second your fingers wrap around his wrist, he stops.

“I think the same way you do. Hopefully, we respect each other enough not to be caught. Publicly or by children.”

“So, you really…There’s no chance? Of anything real between us?”

Your heart comes to a dead-stop in your chest, and the word ‘no’ hangs on the tip of your tongue, but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to actually say it. It’s one simple syllable, but it’s so heavy in your mouth, you fear opening it will wreak havoc.

“I…I don’t know,” you reply, gulping.

He turns his hand so your palms are touching, and then he squeezes you gently. “All I ask is that you keep an open mind. It’s okay to let yourself have things you want, too. Not everything has to be an obligation.”

Before you can speak, the driver is opening the door for you and Chenle to get out. The two of you make your way into the house, but you’re honestly not sure where to go from here. You head upstairs toward the master bedroom to take off your dress.

“(Y/N),” Chenle calls, stopping you in your tracks. He continues, “I have to get clothes to change into. They’re still all in the master, but I’ll have the staff move them by the end of the week.”

You wet your lips. Standing on the third stair makes you taller than him, and he looks up at you with only kindness behind his brown eyes. You want to hate him. Or to only tolerate him. But through the moments of kindness, you know he’s the type of man you could be friends with. You could—

You stop that thought before it completes. “It’s your house. Do whatever you need to.”

He joins you on the third step and leans closer to you. “Wrong.”

“Wrong?” You tilt your head.

“Remember that everything I have is yours, too. This house belongs to you just as much as it belongs to me. As much as you hate to think so, I know you, (Y/N). The ball is in your court. You make the decisions around here, whether it’s what color the walls are or twenty kids running around the hallways. Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen.”

You gape at him, face red as he leans away from you and continues up the stairs without looking back at you. Once he’s far enough away, you clear your throat and pat your cheeks. Regaining your composure, you follow him up and find him working on the buttons of his shirt, his tie discarded on the bed.

“Does this bother you?” he asks. “I can go.”

“What makes you think it bothers me?”

“You’re staring.”

You head over to the closet instead of responding to him, more than ready to put pants on instead of the dress that’s much too tight for comfort. Once you’ve picked out your new clothes, you stay where you’re at and reach behind you for the zipper. After a few moments of struggling with it, you finally give up and decide to use your resources.

“Chenle?” you call out.

When he appears in the doorway, his shirt is absent, and you were pretty sure he’d been wearing a belt before. His arms are crossed over his chest as he leans against the frame, awaiting you to tell him what you need. You don’t have to actually speak. Instead, you turn your back to him and pull your hair over your shoulder. He hums behind you, keeping a respectable amount of distance before he grips the zipper.

“What did you do before me?” he asks, hesitant to pull it down.

“Staff.” You shrug. “But I mostly wore things I knew I’d be able to—”

The familiar sound and the rush of cool air against your heated skin as he reveals more of you has your breath catching in your throat. You cut yourself off, immediately reaching up to hold the dress to your chest.

“I’m a very accommodating man, (Y/N).” His voice sinks into every inch of you. “If you need something, tell me. I’m your husband. It’s quite literally my job to ensure you’re happy, darling.”

The heat radiating from his bare skin so close to yours has every thought in your brain flying away. Logically, there’d be nothing wrong with giving in to your temptation. It’d been a long time since anyone had touched you, and the man behind you is your husband. Physical attraction had nothing to do with emotions or feelings, so it was okay. One thing you’d never be able to deny is how he’s one of the most beautiful men you’d ever met. Your parents could’ve chosen much, much worse for you.

His voice centimeters from your ear startles you out of your trance. He says, “I wonder what you’re thinking about. You seem a bit distracted.”

“Wouldn’t you love to know.”

“Truly.”

“I need to change.”

“Do you?” He trails a finger up your spine. “You’re so soft. What an odd comparison to that steel wall you’re forcing yourself to keep up.”

“I think you’re forgetting your own boundaries.” You clench your fist into the fabric of your dress. “This wouldn’t be real.”

“What even is this?” His breath fans across your neck, and you’re sure you feel the sublest brush of his lips on your skin. “Tell me where you think this is going. After all, I’m helping you with your dress like a good husband.”

“My dress was dealt with minutes ago.”

“Darling.” He tsks. “If your dress was dealt with already, it would be long, long gone.”

Even like this, you refuse to let him win. If this were to be the extent of your relationship with Chenle, you’d be fine with that. You crave satisfaction, and you also know this is a means to an end. This may be the key to giving your family those fucking heirs they want so badly. In a bold move, you release your grip on the fabric and allow it to crumple at your feet.

“What?” You tilt your head, grinning when his breathing halts. “Are you the only one who can deliver?”

He places his hand on your hip. “Can I touch you here?”

“Mhm,” you inhale sharply when he squeezes, trying your best not to roll back against him.

“Here?” he whispers, splaying his fingers out along your stomach.

“What’s your goal?” you ask, looking back at him over your shoulder. “You seem like you want something from me.”

His face is much too close to yours, but for some reason, it does little to bother you. When his lips part, you don’t mean to squirm in his touch. His eyes sweep over your expression, his touch edging just a little further downward until he can play with the lace hem of your panties.

“I’ve told you what I want already.” His gaze locks on your mouth. “Everything. I want it all.”

You gulp, unable to speak for fear of making a fool of yourself.

“What about me makes this hard for you?” he asks.

Despite the softness of his voice, your proximity to him means you see the hint of hurt swimming around in his dark irises. The heat of his bare skin on yours has everything inside you awakening, but you can’t give him what he wants.

“The choice is yours.” He takes a deep breath. “Going forward, the choice is always yours to make. I’m yours in any way you want me.”

The atmosphere around you is so warm, charged, you can’t help the way you struggle to breathe. You lean closer to him, and when your lips brush his, his grip around you tightens. Before he’s able to initiate a real kiss, a knock sounds on the bedroom door.

“Mr. Zhong, you have a visitor.”

“God damn it,” he curses under his breath, annoyance replacing whatever vulnerability you’d just seen. Stepping away from you, he grabs a shirt for you and hands it to you.

You accept it quickly, embarrassment flooding through your system as reality sets in and you realize what you’d done. He stops in the doorway, stealing one more glance at you before he runs his fingers through his hair and walks out.

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself, patting your cheeks.

Your skin where he touched you suddenly feels much too cold, and you give yourself a few moments to calm down as you search for a pair of pants to put on. You pick your dress up off the floor and put it with your dirty laundry. You tie your hair up to get yourself to cool down, and then you follow Chenle out to see who saved you from making a decision you wouldn’t be able to come back from.

“You came all the way here to deliver a report?” Chenle’s voice cuts through the air before you’re able to see him, and you hear the agitation flooding through it.

You round the corner and stop at the top of the stairs, finding Chenle in the foyer with one of the men from the meeting earlier standing right inside the doorway with a binder. He’d slipped his shirt back on, retucked it, and even rolled his sleeves up. His hands are deep in his pockets.

“It couldn’t wait,” the man says.

“There are plenty of things that can’t wait in this world, and they wait anyway, Jeno.” Chenle shifts on his feet. “But you’re here, so give it to me.”

Jeno hands Chenle the binder, and he opens it. At the realization of what it is, the latter’s eyes close.

“You’re telling me that this has been going on for years?”

“Before you were even CEO, yes.” Jeno nods.

“My father knows about this?”

“I’m not sure.”

“What is your father supposed to know about?” you ask, finally making your presence known as you make your way down the stairs.

Chenle turns to you, his jaw clenching as his gaze travels on its own accord. “The amount you pointed out earlier. It’s not just one payment. There’s…an entire binder full of payments to someone that aren’t accounted for. That’s $143,000 a quarter, for longer than I’ve even been able to—”

“Should she really be involved in this?” Jeno grabs Chenle’s arm.

“She’s the COO of the company.” Chenle frowns at the other man. “And she’s my wife. If this is going on, it affects her, too.”

The other man releases him, and you join Chenle at his side. At this point, even pressing your arm against his is far too much contact for you, yet you crave it all the same.

“It’s new for them,” you remind your husband. “They’re not used to me yet. They’ll learn in due time.”

“Right.”

You hold your hand out for the reports, and he gives it to you. You flip through, noting the dates corresponding with the payments.

“I wouldn’t bring it up to your father,” you mention.

“What?” Chenle recoils. “Why not?”

“These charges have been happening for years,” you point out. “There’s a chance he might know about them. That he could be the one—”

“That’s impossible,” Chenle interrupts you, his posture immediately straightening out as he stands rigid.

“It’s not.” You keep your voice soft in an attempt to neutralize the situation, and you reach for his wrist. “All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t rule anyone out. We need to keep this within a circle while we do research. No one else can know that this has even been caught.”

As soon as your fingers wrap around him, the tension in his body melts away. He lets out a sigh, wets his lips, and nods. “You’re right. We’ll look into it.” He turns to Jeno. “No one can know about this. This stays between the three of us.”

“Of course,” Jeno confirms. “I’ll leave you with that information now. Have a good night, you two.”

“Thanks,” Chenle says.

Jeno leaves, the echo of the door closing behind him leaving you and Chenle draped in an awkward silence. You place the binder on the table on the glass table, turning to face your husband.

“Are you alright?” Chenle asks.

“Me?” You raise your eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He gives you a pointed look, one that tells you he’s in no way wanting to beat around the bush. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m…okay, yes. Maybe a little flustered, but I didn’t…hate what happened, if that’s what you’re asking.” You avoid his gaze, rolling your eyes as you stare off past him to the ornate details of the front door.

“We’re married,” he points out.

“Yes, I’m acutely aware of that fact, thank you.” Your fingers find the band of your wedding ring.

He pauses, but his gaze leaves goosebumps all over your body as he trails over you. “It’s clear we’re…attracted to each other. And you’re still sure you’d rather not attempt a real relationship.”

“We’ve talked about this.” You glance around, like the staff overhearing is the most embarrassing thing you’ll deal with.

“Not enough.”

“What else could we possibly add to that?”

“I don’t want us to tolerate each other, (Y/N). At the very least, we should try to be friends.” He takes a step closer to you.

You’ve been confronted by a lot of men in your life. There have been even more men who doubted your abilities, but none of them had ever intimidated you. Chenle, standing in front of you with a determined look on his face, intimidates you. A part of you—no matter how small it may be—knows he’s everything he says he is and more. He could give you the life you’ve always wanted, but you’re sure you don’t deserve it. Not until you’ve fulfilled your portion of the contract and take your place as CEO. Only then can you allow yourself to let go.

“Do you want me?” he asks. “In any way?”

“I don’t want to,” you tell him honestly. “But I do.”

“When we were on our honeymoon, or the semblance of whatever that was, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how we were forced into this arrangement, yet none of it…None of it feels wrong. You may not have paid me much attention beforehand, but for years before we were ever to be married, I’ve admired you. Your willpower and the way you hold your own. The independence you have. Your autonomy. I envy you.”

“Why? Why envy me?”

“Look at yourself.” Chenle puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you to look into the floor-length mirrors against the wall. “I’m not talking about how beautiful you are, even though that’s definitely an added bonus. I mean the utter tenacity you have flowing through your veins. The way you can command attention the second you walk into a room. How you’re unafraid to put men with decades of more experience in their places. You are…unapologetically yourself. This life, one of business, is significantly easier for me as a man, yet you’ve absolutely bulldozed everyone in your way.”

“Chenle—”

“I’m not done.” He taps his fingers against you.

Seeing him standing behind you in these mirrors is making your heart race, your brain jolting with electricity, and inexplicable thoughts running around your mind. He looks good like this. He watches you fondly, the admiration in his gaze evident.

“But you’re honest, too. With your intentions and with the way you want to live your life. I wish you’d give me the chance to prove how things could be, but like I said before, these choices are yours alone. Don’t get that confused with me not wanting to try. Because I’ll keep trying as long as you want me in…whatever way.”

You turn to him, craning your neck to look at him with your hands flat on his chest. “I’m beginning to think you’re crazy.”

“If trying to give my wife the life she deserves is crazy, then I’ll gladly claim that title.” A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Something tells me you might come around someday.”

“I wish you saw things the way I do,” you mutter.

“I think the same way. But as much as I understand your fears, they shouldn’t hinder you in your life. You’re allowed to explore all aspects. Business. Joy. Intimacy. Love.”

“And you’re an expert on intimacy?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Expert might be a strong word, but I won’t ever lie to you. I’ve been in love in the past and gotten hurt because of it. But every heartbreak is worth it if it leads you to the person you were made for.” His hands slide to your hips, fingertips barely applying any pressure. “If we find we’re not good for each other, I’d let you go. You’re bound to me in a legal sense only. Paper. It means nothing unless we make it mean something.”

“You…scare me,” you breathe out. “This scares me.”

“We’re doing something right, then.” He lets out a short chuckle. “But I like this. Being close to you. Knowing that we’d be so much better as a team than as roommates.”

“I’ve always worked alone.”

“Does that mean you’ve never been in love?”

You shake your head. “Never. I don’t give myself the time to feel things like that.”

“So, feel.” His finger brushes below your chin, angling you so your eyes meet his. “Tell me what you’re feeling right now.”

“I—”

“Don’t think. Feel.”

“I…I’m nervous. You can’t be real. I’ve only been burned in the past, but it feels like you’d…just keep me warm. I don’t know if I want that.” You gulp past the unexplainable lump in your throat. “It’s…overwhelming.”

“What can I do to help you?” Chenle asks. “Whatever you need. Tell me, and I’ll make it happen.”

“You.” Your voice almost refuses to work. “I want you, but I…I need time to see if that’s really it or if I’m tricking myself in order to fulfill these stupid obligations set for me.”

“Which obligations?”

“Heirs.” You avert your gaze, but he gently pulls you right back.

“Take whatever time you need. I mean it. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not going to push you into any situations like that.” He reaches up and plays with a strand of your hair. “But there are…plenty of ways to explore that side of our relationship without pregnancy being a risk. Or a reward, if that’s what you view it as.”

Your face burns. Never before has a man made you blush.

“With that in the open, does removing the pregnancy factor make you want me any less?”

You contemplate. While you’d love to say that portion of your contract was the last thing on your mind, you thought of it frequently. But thoughts of what he’s mentioning has your insides twisting and turning in every way, with or without heirs being involved. When he touched you earlier, his hands on your bare skin, that genuinely wasn’t a thought. You want him for personal gain, but not in the way you originally assumed.

“Never less,” you murmur. The warmth around you becomes unbearable, yet you still find yourself shivering. “I think we need to come back to this at a different time.”

“Of course.” He takes a step back, allowing cool air to rush over you. Grabbing the binder from the table, he gestures for you to follow him into his office. “Shall we move on to some numbers, then?”

Finally, you laugh shortly. “Yeah. Yes, that sounds good.”

After two hours of studying the documents, spreadsheets, and all the other information Jeno brought for Chenle, the two of you have gotten as far as discovering the payments were sent to the same bank account. Stress is written across his face, and eventually, you slide the binder away from him.

“You’re going to run yourself into the ground,” you scold him. “It’s time for a break.”

“What time is it?” he asks, massaging his forehead.

“Almost 8pm.” You lean back in your chair and cross your legs.

His lips part in shock, and he checks his watch. “Fuck. I’m sorry, I didn’t even…you haven’t eaten yet.”

“Neither have you,” you point out.

“We’ve already established that you’re more important.” He lets out a sigh, partially filled with frustration. “You know what? Why don’t you get changed and we’ll go out?”

“Together?” Your eyes widen.

“We’re married. It’d be weird if we went by ourselves.”

“Right, of course. Um, anything in particular I should wear?”

“The choice is yours.” He grins, and like it’s the easiest thing in the world, robs all of the oxygen from your lungs. You realize then that you don’t see him smile much, but the pang in your heart can only mean you want to see it over and over again.

“Okay.” You nod and stand. “Give me ten minutes.”

“Take your time. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“You sure you don’t want to pick?” you offer one last time.

“While that would honestly be an honor, darling, I’m trying to prove a point here.” He lifts himself to his feet and reaches across the desk to close the binder. “I could use a drink.”

You give him a small smile before you exit his office. Once he’s out of sight, you practically bound up the stairs. You’d been on dates before, sure, but this feels different. You know better than to let yourself look too far ahead, so once you’re in your closet, you want to make sure you wear something nice. You pick a dress you’re sure you can get yourself out of. Unlike your outfit from earlier, this one isn’t as tight to your figure, and the soft color matches you well. For business meetings, you only wear black. Wearing bright colors hasn’t ever brought you success, but you figure you can wear the purple for a date with your husband.

A date. Is it a date?

That part of it doesn’t matter. This dress makes you feel good about yourself, truly. Disgust immediately sends a shiver down your spine when you realize you’re beginning to ponder how Chenle will perceive you. He’s a man. You could wear a trash bag and he’d think you did something revolutionary. Brushing the skirt of your dress off, you grab a pair of heels, slide them on, and head back down the stairs. He waits by the door, his suit jacket back on and buttoned in the middle. He turns at the sound of your shoes on the floor, and he freezes in his spot.

“What?” you inquire.

“I just…I’ve never seen you in that color before.” He clears his throat, but his cheeks tinge with a light, barely noticeable pink. “You…it suits you well.”

“Thank you.” Before you attempt to leave the door, he grabs your jacket from the rack and drapes it over your shoulders.

“It’s cold, darling,” he mutters, making sure the fabric is secure on your shoulders.

“You don’t think it ruins the outfit?”

“Not a chance. Jacket or not, it’s my favorite of yours.”

“Relax with the compliments. You’re making me blush.” You brush your fingertips against his shoulder and exit the house.

“My hard work is paying off. Good to know.” He closes the door behind him and guides you to the car with his hand on the small of your back. “I’ll stop with the compliments if you ever stop deserving them. Which I doubt will happen, by the way.”

The drive is thirty minutes, and the city is still bustling by the time Chenle is helping you out of the car. His palm against yours makes your stomach flip, and you’re beginning to hate this effect he has on you. It seems like it hit you out of nowhere, and you’d prefer if it were to sink back into the depths of hell where it came from in the first place. But before you know it, you’re a glass and a half deep of wine, you’ve eaten enough pasta to get you through the night, and Chenle’s in the exact same boat you’re in. Between the two of you, you’ve finished a bottle, and it seems as if your husband is debating ordering another one.

You hide a laugh with another sip from your glass and shake your head. “I cannot believe we’re this out of order.”

“The order doesn’t matter as long as the end result is desirable. Isn’t that true?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Mm, I’ve always been an order of operations girl. Everything has to happen in the exact right way.” You set your drink down and rest your head on your palm.

“I just realized I know…nothing about your past. Please, tell me what the younger version of you was like. What kind of trouble did you get into?”

“Wow, what makes you assume I got into trouble?” you tease him, unable to fight your smile.

He sucks in a deep breath and pats his legs. “God, I’m not sure. It couldn’t be the way you never take no for an answer or how you absolutely run over everyone in your way.”

“I’ll have you know that I am a very composed human.” You run your tongue over your teeth.

“I’d expect nothing less, to be honest.” He gives you a soft smile. “And for the record, I enjoy those qualities. There aren’t many people in this world that would be unafraid of calling me out if I’m doing something wrong.”

“You mean earlier.”

“I mean in general, but that does apply, yes.”

“I only want to be a balance for you.” You look down at the red liquid in your cup. “We’re meant to complement each other now, yeah?”

“I think we were the most strategic pair…ever.” Chenle nods.

“Can I be honest with you?” You take another sip.

“Absolutely.”

“You asked me earlier what about you makes this situation hard. Or what about you makes it hard for me to…let go of certain views.” You clear your throat, dreading the conversation more than you’d care to admit. “I feel like it’s…because a part of me knows the greatness we’d be capable of together. But I’ve worked hard to build my own greatness, and I can almost guarantee the second this becomes real, my greatness becomes ours.”

“Ah.” He purses his lips. “I won’t lie to you. There will be people that see it that way. But by being married to me, those people already exist.”

“I’m not talking about other people. I don’t care about them or their opinions.” You finish off your glass.

“You…you mean me?” His eyes widen in shock.

“That is a fear I have.”

He flounders for a second, and he scrambles for words for the first time all day. “I’m sorry, I just…I’m not sure if there’s anything I can say to make this better. I…(Y/N), I know my promises probably don’t mean much to you at this point, but I’d never discount you like that. Or take credit for anything you’ve done. How can I make that clearer?”

“It’s not your issue to correct.” You chew the inside of your cheek. “It’s mine. And I don’t say it to make you feel responsible, but as a forewarning, I guess. Being a woman and working my way to the top just to have…this thrust upon me is a little redundant.”

“You never wanted to marry in the first place.” It’s not a question.

“That’s correct.”

He blows out a long breath and looks down at his hands, twisting the wedding band on his finger. “You never saw this in the cards for you.”

“I knew I’d eventually have to marry for company purposes. My father would never let himself die before he knows I’ve carried on his line.” You snort and shake your head. “But I figured all of these types of marriages were the same. People signed their paperwork and barely acknowledged each other unless it was to reproduce.”

Chenle lets out a laugh. “Your word choice is interesting.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.” You cover your mouth as you join him in laughter. “I just never thought you’d be…you.”

“I live to prove to you that you can have everything. We can be happy, have a real family, and still be at the top of our field. Both independently and together.”

Fortunately for the both of you, Chenle doesn’t order the second bottle of wine. Instead, he pays the bill and leads you from the restaurant with his arm wrapped around your waist. He opens the car door for you, and as you place your hand in his to enter, he squeezes your hand gently. Once you get home, the two of you separate at the top of the stairs, him heading off to a spare room down the hall while you step into the room that technically belongs to him. You change without interrupt, your silk nightgown soft on your skin as you climb into bed.

You stare up at the ceiling, tracing along it with your eyes as if you were drawing a map. Where the destinations were you had yet to figure out, but you imagined a whole new world up there, one where you didn’t have to have this wall up. One where you didn’t have to fight tooth and nail for a shred of respect you more than deserve. One where you didn’t have to be scared of what Chenle was trying to offer you.

You sigh, clutching the blanket to your chest. The wine has since settled in your system, yet your blood still runs warm. The map on the ceiling becomes mountains, oceans, continents. It forms real shapes, real geography in your mind, but you find the destination right in the middle is where you truly want to be. When you look at your phone, the time is already past 2 a.m., and you’re not anywhere near tired. You’re startled by the knock. You shuffle out of bed, crossing your arms over your chest as you crack the door open slightly.

Chenle stands there, hands buried deep in his sweatpants. His eyes sweep over you as you open the door wider.

“You’re up,” he comments.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You shrug. “You’re up. And here.”

“I was hoping I could talk to you.” He pauses. “I can’t stop thinking, and I just really don’t want to be alone right now.”

Your heart skips a beat. As much as you hate it, warmth spreads through your entire being at the thought of his first idea being you.

“This is your room, Chenle. I’m not going to tell you you can’t come in your own bedroom.” You step back to give him space to walk in, but he stays put outside, staring at you as if he’s seeing straight into your soul. You give him a pointed look, but give in. “Yes, it’s okay for you to come in here. I’d prefer company as well.”

He shuffles past you, tiredness clearly weighing down as the bottoms of his feet slide across the hardwood floor. You watch him closely, admiring him. Quickly, you realize that he fits into any room he walks in. He belongs anywhere and everywhere, and within moments, he makes you feel something you’ve only ever been able to provide for yourself until this moment—safe.

“Sorry,” he whispers with a sigh. “I need to stop thinking.”

“Trust me, I get it. Me too.” You stand with your arms still crossed over your chest and you rock back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“I shouldn’t bore you.” He waves you off and sits on the edge of his bed. “How are you adjusting?”

“I’m okay. I’m not complaining about my accommodations.” You move and sit next to him, putting your hand on his knee. “You won’t bore me. If something’s bothering you, I want to try and help.”

His eyes sparkle even in the dark. The landscapes of the map you drew reflect in his gaze, and you swear you see every mountain, every body of water, entire worlds forming in his irises. How have you never seen this before? Why are you seeing it now?

“The payments,” he murmurs. “The idea that my father might know about them. Might be facilitating them. It’s driving me up a fucking wall.”

“When I said that, I didn’t mean to upset you.” You reach over and grab his hand. “We just need to take precaution when it comes to situations like this. If it is him and he knows we’re onto him, it might be…a bigger issue than it needs to be.”

“I know that. I guess it’s the idea that he’d be capable of something like that.” Chenle stares down at the way your thumb traces against his skin.

“You look up to him.”

“I did. I do. A lot, actually, so this seems so…backwards. That’s a lot of money per quarter, you know? I could only imagine what it’s going towards.” He turns his hand around so your palms are touching, and he gently intertwines your fingers. “Sorry, I should’ve asked if this was okay.”

“It’s more than okay. Don’t worry about me. Keep talking.”

“My parents never really loved each other. They grew to love their life together, but not each other. And despite that, I had a decent time growing up. They were good parents to me, and that’s what truly matters at the end of the day, but it makes me wonder if they’re…not these great people I’ve made them out to be in my head.” He lets out a short chuckle. “This sounds pathetic.”

“Hey.” Before you realize what you’re doing, you reach up to cup his cheek and bring his gaze back to yours. “Don’t talk like that. You’re not pathetic. These are valid concerns, and if you’ve been lied to for this long, you have every right to be upset.”

You’re so distracted by him, you barely even recognize the softness of his face. Your thumb runs gently along his cheekbone, and you watch as the frown fades from his features. Something you can’t recognize forms behind his irises, yet it still feels familiar. How do you explain how the normal beat of your heart hurts? How do you tell him that seeing him upset like this feels like needles running along your skin?

“My father would tell me I was foolish for hoping for love,” Chenle whispers. “He said it was a waste of time, since any man as busy as we are just isn't suited for it. For families.”

“If you’d asked me a few weeks ago, I would’ve agreed with him.” You squeeze his hand and give him a small smile.

“Something changed?” he asked.

“I don’t think that way anymore,” you admit. “Now, I’ve realized it’s about the amount of effort someone is willing to put in. It has nothing to do with time. We make time for those we care about.”

He leans into your touch as his eyes flutter shut. You admire the angelic glow the stars leave on his skin, and despite how tired he is, he’s still so fucking beautiful. Your throat dries at the sight, and you hate how it feels like your insides are at war.

“I like this,” he tells you. “Being with you like this.”

“Me, too.” You smile, even though he can’t see you. “You should try and sleep though. You’ll be exhausted tomorrow.”

His chest visibly deflates, and he places his hand on top of yours to pull it away from his face. “Of course. I…I’ll get going.”

You recoil, but you don’t let go of his other hand. “Oh. Is that what you want?” Nerves crawl around in your stomach. You figured he’d stay with you tonight, in his own bed. That maybe the two of you would learn to be better comforted by each other’s presence.

“You’re tired, and I’m keeping you up. I was inconsiderate.” He clears his throat.

“No, no,” you quickly interject. “That’s not what I meant at all. I’m only worried about you, so I was hoping you’d stay with me.”

“In here?” he asks.

You nod. “Yes. If it were my choice, you’d stay.”

“Damn, you got me there.” He delivers a tired grin and ultimately agrees. “I’d love that, (Y/N). Truly.”

You let him settle in beneath the comforter first, and he lifts it to allow you room to slide in next to him. Neither of you say anything else, but things seem to fall together naturally. He opens his arms, you push yourself against his chest, and then he wraps you up tightly in his warm embrace. He smells faintly of cologne, a soft, woody scent that engulfs you pleasantly. Despite the way you failed to fall asleep earlier, you struggle to remember a time you’d ever fallen into your dream world faster.

When you wake without Chenle in the morning, you’re sure you dreamed the last portion of the night. That is, until you see that it’s almost 10 am. You gasp and launch yourself out of bed. You never sleep in this late, so you quickly dress yourself and get ready for the day. Chenle’s side of the bed is mussed, so you determine it was, indeed, not a dream, and you make sure you look as presentable as your normal standard before you go downstairs to find where your husband disappeared to. The smell of breakfast emanates from the kitchen, so you naturally gravitate that way. When you step into the room, you’re taken aback by the company present. Not just your own parents, but Chenle’s as well. Your husband stands at the end of the table, clearly stressed with all of the people in your kitchen. He notices you first and breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of you.

“Wow,” you say as you approach Chenle and stand next to him. “Were we expecting everyone today?”

“Nope.” He chuckles and, much to apparently both of your surprises, he leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Everyone showed up an hour or so ago.”

Through the burning of your cheeks, your gaze shoots up to his and you lower your voice. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You looked really comfortable.” He shrugs.

“(Y/N), Chenle was just telling us that you’re accepting the COO position at his company,” your mother butts in. Of course, business talk immediately.

“Yes, we—”

“Isn’t that a little early? And don’t you have enough responsibilities as COO of my company?” your father grumbles, and you already start to shrink into yourself in his presence.

“She’s more than capable,” Chenle defends you. “If I didn’t think she could handle it, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Don’t interrupt their family discussions, Chenle, that’s rude,” his mother scolds him.

“This marriage was a merger, was it not?” Chenle raises an eyebrow. “Doesn’t that technically make our families interconnected now?”

“We’ll consider them officially connected when she’s had her first child.” Your father points his finger at you. “Speaking of which, what’s taking so long?”

Your jaw drops, and you shift uncomfortably. It’s one thing to talk about your husband getting you pregnant with your own father, but him being so comfortable spitting things out like that in front of Chenle’s parents as well has you feeling queasy.

“We’ve been married for two months.”

“Your mother was pregnant after three weeks.”

“I don’t really want to hear about you impregnating my mother—”

“You’re making excuses, (Y/N), you know what’s on the line here.” Your father tsks at you, sipping from his water glass.

“Sir, all due respect, but it’s not like we knew each other very well. We’re both still getting comfortable with each other. And we’re young. We have plenty of time to have children.” As soon as the words leave Chenle’s mouth, you reach over and grasp his hand. It’s not visible below the table, but he squeezes you in reassurance.

“And what happens if she were to die tomorrow? My bloodline dies with her?” Your father narrows his eyes at Chenle. Your heart sinks in your chest, and you scratch your forehead.

“Even if she were to be pregnant, if she died tomorrow there wouldn’t be an heir either way,” your husband replies.

“Is there a reason we’re having such a lovely family reunion?” you butt in, hoping to curve their conversation.

“Do we need a reason to visit our daughter?” your mother asks.

“Typically, yes.” You shrug. “You never show up unannounced.”

“Oh, I take it they haven’t seen the tabloids,” Chenle’s father mentions.

You stand from your spot and pull your phone out of your pocket to check. You hear Chenle whisper something to the group before he pushes his chair back to join you. Despite the anxiety crawling up your spine, the warmth of him right behind you calms you.

“They came here because there’s a couple articles of people being shocked that we like each other?” you hiss, tossing your phone on the counter.

“Breathe,” Chenle tells you, putting his hands on your shoulders. “They’ll eventually leave us alone, but we’ve got to placate them for now.”

“Placate them?” You turn to him and raise your eyebrow. “You exchanged words with my father.”

“He said stupid things.” Chenle shrugs.

You chuckle. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ah, but you said the people are surprised we like each other, so I’m assuming you enjoy how ridiculous I am.” He bites back a grin when he sees you blush.

“God, you’ve got to stop doing that.” You push gently at his chest and walk back to your parents and your in-laws.

“I’m not sure this is really something that should have blame assigned,” Chenle’s mother says. “I’ve seen married couples go years without children.”

You curse under your breath. Of course, this is still the topic of conversation.

“That’s not how it works in this family. Heirs come first immediately after marriage.” Your mother sips from a champagne flute.

“Well, that’s hardly Chenle’s fault—”

“He’s a man. How hard is it to impregnate a woman?” Your mother scoffs. “Please, she’s not ugly by any means.”

“Mother, dear God,” you snap. “Why in the world are we still talking about this?”

“I’m sorry, are you questioning my son’s…viability?” Chenle’s father narrows his eyes.

You want to combust into flames right then and there. The immediate assumption that the reason behind you not being with child yet is that Chenle simply can’t get it up. How fucking great.

“I’m just saying, there were other men contending for a contract that were more than willing—”

“That’s enough,” you shout.

You have four shocked faces staring at you, and you feel Chenle go rigid behind you.

“I am beyond tired of this conversation already. We’ve only been married for two months, and that’s just not enough time. I barely even knew him when I married him, and we’re trying to do this the normal way. As normally as we can.” You pause. “I’m the one that wants to wait. And it is a want, not a necessity, so neither of us are…sexually dysfunctional.”

Chenle holds back a laugh behind you, but four sets of eyes are still on you. And while it’s technically not the truth—as you’ve stated multiple times you’d be okay with having an heir quickly—you’d rather this portion of it fall on you than on him. Your parents would lose their minds.

“And let’s not forget that (Y/N) is a human with a career that’s just as important as mine,” your husband adds. “Having a child at this time could put her back immensely after all the hard work she’s put in. If she wants to wait, nobody should have a say in that other than her.”

With every word coming out of Chenle’s mouth, he gets more and more attractive to you. You wish today had been a simple morning, truly. One where you’d wake up with him next to you and he’d hold you for however long the two of you could stand to stay still for.

“You should be happy we’re trying to do this properly.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Love is a waste of time in a business arrangement.” Your father sets his empty water glass on the table.

“I agree. It’s better to get the obligations out of the way first, and then worry about trying to create something real,” Chenle’s father agrees.

“Right, because that worked out so well for you,” Chenle says.

Today was going to be a long, long day.

Your parents and in-laws stayed for another hour, and then they (thankfully) willingly left on their own accord. As soon as Chenle closes the door behind his parents, you sigh in relief and slump your back against the counter. He approaches you without a word, and almost like it’s instinct, you wrap your arms around him. Running his fingers through your hair, he holds you as close as he can.

“I’m sorry my parents implied you’re impotent,” you mutter, and you and Chenle burst into laughter at the same time.

“Wow. Clearly the only two options for an explanation as to why you’re not pregnant within two months are impotency or your husband not finding you attractive. Which, for the record, neither of those are an issue.”

“Gross. But thanks, I think?” You lean back slightly to look at him and find him smiling at you.

“Just being honest. If I was impotent, I would’ve told you before we married for business purposes. And if you don’t know how attractive you are at this point, that would be one of the world’s biggest mysteries.” He pulls you to him until your chest presses against his. “But, since I was so rudely torn away from my beautiful wife this morning by our nosy, no fucking good parents dropping in like we’re fifteen years old, I wanted to thank you for last night. Since I couldn’t earlier.”

“Thank me?” You frown and tilt your head.

“I needed that. I didn’t even know it, but I needed it,” Chenle tells you.

“Of course,” you murmur. “You never have to be alone for those moments.”

“Just for those moments?” He fakes a pout. “Does that mean I have to go back to my own room?”

You give him a pointed look, and then pretend to be lost in thought momentarily. “Pretty sure that’s only when you make me mad. I guess married couples argue and then the wives send the husbands to the couch. But in this case, there’s an extra bedroom. Or twenty.”

“Can I…can I try something?” he asks, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Yeah.” You nod.

“Close your eyes,” he mutters.

If he was anyone else, you’d be asking a million questions. But this is Chenle, and you’ve grown to realize he’s exactly who he said he is. You trust him inexplicably.

“Wow,” he says. “Not even a sarcastic comment. I think I’m winning you over.”

You open one eye, push at his shoulder, and then close it again. You’re more than tempted to open them again when his hands cup your cheeks. His thumbs caress your skin, and your breath gets caught in your throat. Your heart races in anticipation as you await his next move, craving whatever it is he wants to give you. You gasp quietly when you feel his lips brush yours, and your body tenses.

“Relax,” he whispers. “It’s me.”

You don’t give him the opportunity to finish closing the distance between you two. You do it for him. Pushing yourself forward, you seal the kiss with him quickly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close to you. He curses against you, and you follow suit when he wraps his arm around your waist and lifts you onto the counter. For a brief moment, he pulls away from you, chest heaving as he pants.

“Chenle.” You hate that it comes out as a whimper, but you love the way he reacts to it.

He kisses you again, harder this time while one of his hands tangles in your hair and the other sits on your thigh where the hem of your dress is. Instinctively, to make your dress ride up your legs more, you lift one and hike it up around his waist. The fabric slips past his fingertips, now resting much higher than it was before. You pull him closer until he’s right up against the lace of your panties.

“Fuck,” he curses lowly, digging his nails into your skin. “You’d better think this through, darling.”

A shiver runs down your spine, but heat floods your core. You need him.

“Please,” you whisper to him, watching as his eyes darken right in front of you. When you let your hand travel down his body, you smirk at how his length hardens further beneath your touch.

“Shit.” His hips unintentionally thrust into your hand. “Fuck, we should stop.”

You drop your head against his shoulder, retracting your hand away from him. “Well, impotency definitely won’t be a problem.”

He kisses up your neck. “Sorry. I don’t want to get carried away. Or even more carried away, I guess.”

“Look at me.” You wait for him to listen to you. “You don’t have to hold back if you don’t want to. Your desires are just as important as mine.”

“Before we…do anything, I need to make sure I have condoms.” He clears his throat and removes your leg from around his waist.

“Wait, what?” You frown and lean away from him. “What do we need those for?”

“Are you serious?” He takes a step back.

“Well, yeah. We’re married. We need to have children, why would we use condoms?” You run your fingers through your hair.

He sighs and runs his hands down his face. “We talked about this. I was under the impression that we were figuring this out first and then worrying about how and when we’d have children.”

“We can’t do both at the same time?”

“Did you ever think that maybe I don’t want kids yet?” He tilts his head at you and narrows his eyes. “Yes, I understand that’s part of the deal and why we’re even married in the first place, but I don’t want to even risk having kids if I don’t know it’s really me you want.”

Embarrassment floods through you, and you slide off the counter and send him back a few more paces. You pull your dress down and grimace at the thought of being in a position like that.

“After everything we’ve talked about and the time we’ve spent together, you really think that’s not true? You think I don’t want you?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. All of this is confusing. And then our parents are here pressuring you into having a kid, and you’re—”

“Oh, my God.” Your jaw drops, and you brush off your skirt. “You’re literally the one who kissed me. And then you put me on—God forbid I ask a simple question, right? That must mean I’m trying to jump your bones to get my way.”

“(Y/N), that’s not what I said—”

“Maybe not, but that’s sure as hell what you meant. And here I am, like a fucking idiot, letting you touch me when you think that fucking low of me.” You clench your fists at your side, and you’re unaccustomed to the way your heart twists so hard in your chest. “God, fuck you.”

You turn away from him and stomp off, painfully aware of your over-exaggeration. The logical side of you begs you to calm down, since both of your concerns are valid, but the side of you you’re experiencing for the first time is stronger than what you’re accustomed to. When you make it upstairs and to your room, you sit on the edge of the bed and force yourself to breathe. Chenle’s assumption hurt you. It’s as simple as that. You’ve let yourself like him, and now he has this power over you. With a simple miscommunication, it feels like everything is falling apart before it even begins.

You blink rapidly to stop the tears from welling in your eyes, and eventually, you’re more annoyed by your reaction than by the actual situation. The door creaks open, and Chenle walking in makes relief flood through your veins. He moves over to you and sits down next to you, reaching over to grab your hand.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You nod and lean into his chest, craving his comfort. He sighs, wraps his arms around you tightly, and strokes your hair. With your ear pressed against him, you hear how his heart beats just as hard as yours.

“I think we both got a little carried away there,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” you agree. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I got so upset.”

“I’m sorry, too.” He kisses the top of your head. “It’s never my intention to hurt you. Or to make you regret anything we do.”

You sit there in silence, appreciating the comfort he gives you simply by being next to you.

“I was…I don’t know. Embarrassed, I think.” You chuckle at yourself, but you don’t find it funny at all. “That you would think I’d just…do that without being truthful to you. I’ve had a lot of men assume things about me throughout my entire life. Because of my success, it’s either from my father handing it to me or because I slept my way to the top. So, I’m sure you can see why I had trouble comprehending that as anything else.”

“And I hope you know that’s not what I was thinking at all. I know how much of an influence your parents have had on you. All I ever want to do is make sure you’re making your choices for you. I never communicated that I would want to use condoms if we started sleeping together because I didn’t really assume we’d get there.” He squeezes you closer to him and takes a deep breath.

“I’m also sorry for yelling at you.” You scrunch your nose up and look at him. “That was…really weird.”

“Weird?” A small smile pulls at his lips.

“I’ve never felt anything like that before. And it’s scary that you have that kind of power over me, even if I know you wouldn’t use it against me intentionally.”

“Learning how to manage those feelings will come with the territory. Have some faith in me, alright? I’m not saying things just to bring you down.” He tilts your head up, his gaze scanning over your face. “I want you to be happy. Obviously, bonus points if I’m a part of that happiness.”

“You are.”

“Good. You deserve only good things in life, and I need to make sure you get them.”

He leans down and presses his lips to yours, gently working your mouths together. You sigh into him and tangle your fingers in his hair. Everything about this feels good. It has warmth spreading in your chest from knowing someone in this world cares for you beyond what you can give them. You know he wants you, but you also know he’s going to have your best interest in mind.

He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours. “We’ll learn each other, darling. Everything will work out the way it’s meant to.”

Whether intentionally or not, you and Chenle keep your distance from each other for a couple days. Today, however, you’ve no choice but to be around each other later for the board meeting, where they’ll vote on the CFO position. And your COO position, but Chenle made it very clear that the vote was simply a formality. You choose a black dress, zip it up, put your earrings in, and head downstairs, where your husband waits for you by the door. He looks at you as you stop on the bottom step, a loud clack coming from your heel.

“Yes?” You tilt your head at him.

“Are those earrings new?” He buttons his suit jacket.

“Not new.” You shake your head. “I just haven’t worn them since we married.”

“Right.” He walks over to you and offers you his arm. “Do you like receiving new things?”

You loop yours through his and allow him to guide you toward the door. “I guess that would depend on the context of receiving.”

“If I buy things for you, will they be well received?” he asks.

“You think you know me well enough to buy me things I’d enjoy?” You bite back a smile as he leads you outside and to the car.

With his hand on the small of your back, he helps you into the backseat before following. “I think I’d figure it out fairly quickly. I’m a smart man.”

“They…would be received. Maybe not well, but received nonetheless.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, relaxing against the seat. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I can’t make it too easy for you.” You purse your lips, and without much thought, you scoot closer to him and place your hand on his.

“I don’t think easy is the right word for most things when it comes to you.” He laughs, turning his smile toward you.

“Most things?”

“Being with you is easy. Or around you, I should say. You’re pleasant company. Easy to have an intellectual conversation with, easy to relax around. Those are the easy things.”

“Wow.” You bite back your grin. “You sure know how to woo a woman.”

“Not just any woman,” he interjects. “My wife.”

“Your wife.” It’s the first time you’ve called yourself that out loud, and it has a weird, unrecognizable feeling sprouting in your stomach.

“I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but it seems like you’re coming around a little bit.” He nudges you gently. “I’m not sure how it’s possible, but I’ve missed you the past few days. After the other day, I wanted to give you space in case you didn’t want to see me, but I should’ve thought to ask you.”

He stares down at where your hands are connected, his thumb rubbing against your skin.

You fight the urge to touch his face again. “I…I’ve missed you, too, I think.”

“You think?” Humor laces in his tone.

“I don’t know. I’ve never wanted to be around someone like this before.” You shrug, heat gathering in your cheeks. “Forgive me while I navigate whatever’s going on inside my brain.”

“I want to know everything you’re thinking,” he murmurs, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Every joke, unimportant sentence, emotion, process. I want to know you.”

You lean forward and press your lips to his without a single thought in your head, but he reciprocates with ease. Almost as if he’s not taken off-guard in the slightest.

“I could get used to that,” he says against your lips. “No more silence, okay? I don’t want to be away from you.”

“No more silence,” you agree.

When the two of you pull away from each other, your eyes widen at the sight of your lipstick on his lips. You grab his arm to stop him from getting out of the car and use your thumb to wipe the excess away.

“Made a mess, did you?” He grabs your wrist to stop you. “You don’t want anyone to see that you like me that much?”

A grin follows his words, and he grabs his handkerchief out of his pocket.

“No one can know I actually have a heart,” you interject, watching as he wipes his mouth.

“Alright.” He puts his hand on your knee and squeezes. “Are you ready?”

If there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s the overwhelming attraction you have for Chenle. You take him in for a moment, the dark sweep of his hair parted to reveal his forehead, the way he grips you, the way he watches you as if you’re the only person in the world to exist.

“Before we go,” you start, chuckling quietly at yourself for the question you’re about to ask him. “Did…did you ever get condoms?”

His lips part in shock, and he blinks and flounders for words for a solid few seconds before he clears his throat. “I…I mean, I did, but not because I thought we would—it was just a precaution, you know?”

“Do I make you, Zhong Chenle, so nervous that you’re stuttering right now?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He pats your thigh. “Absolutely, you do.”

You silently thank whoever made this car for the partition between the driver and you and Chenle. “I could do so many other things to you that are so much better.” You gently touch his tie, wrapping your fingers around the fabric and pulling on it to bring him closer to you.

“I truly have no doubt that’s true.” He wets his lips. “If we don’t get out of this car in the next ten seconds, I’m having the driver fucking turn us around. We can’t miss the vote.”

“I guess receiving the title of COO is a little more important than banging my husband.”

“Fuck, I need to get out right now.” He glances up at the ceiling and throws the door open without any more hesitation. Like usual, he turns and offers you his hand.

You take it gratefully, and you loop your arm through his once your feet are safely on the ground. While you follow his lead, you realize something that has the gears in your brain turning. Chenle is the only man you’ve ever accepted guidance from. As miniscule as it seems to allow him to walk you inside, you can’t deny how you’d willingly follow him wherever he may go.

The vote does go off without a hitch, and not even half an hour after you receive your title, you’re in an office plugging away at whatever work needs to be done. Unfortunately, you’re awfully distracted by the thought of Chenle by himself down the hall. A knock on the glass door jolts you out of your thoughts. You see Jeno standing there with a file in his hands. You beckon for him to come in, and he gestures at the seat as if to ask you if he can sit.

“Please.” You nod, folding your hands together. “Did you need something?”

The man hands you the file. “We were able to trace the owner of the bank account, and an address associated with it. I…I figured it’d be best to leave this information with you, given that this could be sensitive information.”

You open it, glancing through the charges. “It started with a different bank account and name.”

“It did. Payments were originally made to a Liu Shuye, and just over two years ago, the bank account switched to a Liu Sujia.” Jeno pauses and takes a deep breath. “I think it’d be better for you to do this portion of it on your own.”

“They have different surnames.” You tap your pen on your desk. “And you’ve never heard of this person before today?”

“Not once.”

“Very well.” You sigh and close the folder, gaze meeting Jeno’s. “Thank you. I’ll look into this further and determine at what point Chenle needs to be involved. For now, Jeno, keep this between us.”

“Of course.” Jeno nods and stands. With a quick bow of his head, he moves to the door. “He’s a good man, (Y/N). Chenle, I mean. But he feels too easily, so tread carefully with whatever you find.”

“I will.”

Once Jeno departs, you cross your arms over your chest and stare down at the information delivered. These payments were made for years, so you’re unsure of how this could relate to Chenle in specific, but you feel an overwhelming resolve to make sure whatever this is doesn’t hurt him.

Chenle came to get you from your office at almost 7pm. He refused to let you work any longer and insisted he had to take you home. Your mind has been turning since Jeno brought you the documents, but you leave them buried in your desk and lay your head on Chenle’s shoulder for the duration of the car ride home. Once you're inside the house, Chenle takes your jacket off your shoulders and hangs it. You turn to him and grab his hand.

“Come to bed with me?” you ask.

“Of course.” He gives you the softest smile, and as you walk up the stairs, he follows closely behind you.

The two of you step inside his room. Chenle closes the door and then wraps his arms around your waist and tugs your back to his chest. He buries his head in your neck, a hum escaping past his lips.

“Are you tired?” you ask him, reaching up to play with his hair.

“No,” he mumbles. “I just want to be close to you. It’s been a long day, and you make me feel better.”

“Is that so?” You face him and tilt your head.

“I was scared to fall for you, too,” he whispers. “For anyone, but especially you. I know the reasons we’re here are vastly different from a conventional marriage, but I already wanted you before all of this.”

Your heart thuds in your chest as you realize his use of past tense. He was scared. Does that mean he already has fallen for you?

“C’mere,” you mutter. “We can be closer.”

“Are you sure?” He cups your cheeks, thumbing your skin. “I know we’ve gone back and forth a couple times, but I need you to know you don’t have to do anything for me. Ever.”

“Kiss me, Chenle.”

All events of the day are forgotten as soon as his lips are on yours. His hands explore along your back, fingers clenching onto the fabric of your dress as he inhales shakily. When he pulls away, it’s only for a second, as if he can’t stop himself from going back for more.

“Please tell me this means something to you.” He gulps, his words punctuated by kisses as he turns you around and walks you backward. “That I’m not crazy for wanting you the way I do.”

As the back of your knees make contact with the bed, you grip onto his shoulders, breathless from the passion behind his kiss. “You’re not crazy. It’s terrifying how fast you’ve become all I think about. Your smile and your laugh and the passion you carry. This means everything to me.”

His eyes sparkle in the lamp-lit room, a warmth dancing around in them you’ve never seen from anyone before. He finds the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down.

“I hope you truly know how fucking exquisite you are,” Chenle murmurs, removing the fabric from your body and returning his touch to your back to explore your bare skin. “I don’t want to fight these feelings anymore.”

“Do something about it, then.”

The heat radiating from him keeps the chill of the air in the room off of your skin, and after he guides your back down on the mattress, he haphazardly tosses his suit jacket away. You scoot back to give him more space, and he climbs on top of you. You part your legs further, nearly gasping when he takes his spot between them, pressing against you as if he were made to fill that space. As he takes your lips with his own, you work on the buttons of his shirt. Your hands shake, making it difficult, but he doesn’t mention it. He keeps kissing you like he’ll die of thirst the second he pulls away.

You finally get the last one, and he sits up briefly to rid himself of the extra material. Before it’s even completely removed, you reach down for his belt. He stares at your hands as you unbuckle it, but you don’t have time to slide it off him. When his mouth crashes into yours again, you lift your hips up.

A quiet, needy sigh passes through his lips. “God, I fucking need you so bad.”

“I’m yours,” you tell him. “Show me how much you need me.”

He grinds down against you, and his hard length slides against the wet spot in your lace panties. That time, you do gasp. It’s been much too long since you allowed yourself pleasure by another’s hand, and you crave that closeness with Chenle.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, voice rough.

“Please.” You nod. “Touch me wherever you want.”

He curses under his breath, but he presses his lips to yours once more, then along your jawline, down your neck, and paying attention to the valley between your breasts. He squeezes the right one, rubbing his thumb against your nipple through the somewhat thick material.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” He nips at your skin, and you already know he’ll leave marks on you. Pausing, he takes a deep breath. “You—you’ve done this before, right?”

“Done what?”

“Sex.”

“I have. Why?”

“No, I just…you said you’d never been in love before and I didn’t want to just assume that you—”

“Just keep going.” You blush, but he listens to your command without hesitation.

When his mouth continues downward, leaving a trail of his saliva on your stomach until he reaches the hem of your panties. He tongues along the band, his eyes flicking up to yours.

“Good God,” you whisper, the urge between your legs becoming far too much for comfort. “What are you doing?”

“Getting my fill.” He leaves open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs.

When his thumb brushes your clit through your panties, your hips jolt. You curse, grasping onto the sheets as you prepare yourself for whatever he has planned. He smirks at your reaction, and as he pulls at your underwear, you lift up to urge him to move faster. He wraps his arms around your legs, his hands pressing your hips down into the mattress. Even though he opens his mouth to speak to you, his eyes don’t leave your glistening core.

“You can stop me if you change your mind. Just tell me.” He gulps, wetting his lips like he’s struggling to hold back.

“I won’t change my mind,” you reassure him.

“But you need to know it’s always an option.” He squeezes you gently, and without awaiting your response, he slides his tongue from your entrance to your clit.

No matter how embarrassing it is, you can’t stop the whimper escaping you. His tongue flicks your clit one, two, three times as he digs his nails into your skin. Pleasure isn’t entirely foreign to you, but you’re sure it’s the way your soul has begun craving Chenle’s that makes this so much better than anything else you’ve experienced. His grip on you keeps you from squirming too much, but you try regardless. As he steadily moves over your clit, your back arches off the mattress. Whines leave your mouth as you run your fingers through Chenle’s hair in encouragement.

He takes your sensitive bud into his mouth, sucking to add pressure, only to release it and start all over again. You lift yourself on your elbows to watch him, all while practically pushing his head further between your legs. His eyes are closed, and seeing his lips work on your core has to be one of the most erotic things you’ve ever witnessed.

“You taste so fucking good,” he groans, the vibrations against your entrance sending shivers up and down your spine.

You feel yourself approaching the edge. Your body tenses, but your high won’t take you. Cursing quietly, you lift your hips in an attempt to figure out why the hell you can’t get out of your head. Chenle pulls away from your core, pressing kisses to your inner thigh. “Relax, darling. It doesn’t matter how long it takes.”

“Please just…” You drop your head back on the mattress and let out a defeated breath. “I want all of you.”

He leans over to the bedside table and grabs a condom, trailing his lips up your body once more until he reaches your neck. His teeth graze your skin. “You can trust me, (Y/N). I’ll take care of you.”

“I do,” you mutter, running your fingers through his hair. “I swear I do.”

“It’s not me you have to convince.” He nips your collarbone. “We don’t have to keep going if you’re not ready.”

You shake your head. “I’m ready. I want you.”

“Okay.” He nods, pulling back to meet your gaze. His features are soft, nothing short of adoration in his eyes. “Try not to think about it too much. Just feel.”

“I’ve never been good at that.” You chuckle and grin at him.

“I’ll show you how, baby. I’ve got you.”

You crane upwards to kiss him, and he meets you in the middle. Tasting yourself on his tongue has you sighing into him, and you push at his pants in hopes that he’ll take the hint. He pauses to rid himself of the rest of his clothing, and then slides his hands beneath you to unclasp your bra. You arch your back to give him more space, and soon enough, nothing separates you from your husband anymore.

“You’re sure?” he asks you again, grabbing the wrapper once more.

“I want you,” you confirm.

Despite the confidence you usually feel, something here feels more…vulnerable than you’ve ever been. Your heart flutters in your chest as he opens the condom and slides it on, and you spread your legs further as he climbs over you again. No man has ever made you nervous before, even in similar situations, but something with him is different. You care about him. You want him to feel good, too, and you crave his promises of taking care of you.

“Need you to relax,” he whispers, peppering kisses on your jawline as he lines himself up with your soaked entrance. “Close your eyes, darling, just let yourself feel.”

You tilt your head back to give him better access to your neck, and you listen to him. Through the darkness, you see the world you drew on his ceiling, the one with beautiful landscapes, overarching mountains, fresh, clean streams, and you sigh in content. The middle of the map, the location you craved to be in, is right here. With him. His breath catches in his throat as he slides inside you, his length stretching you. He gulps and rests his head on your shoulder as he attempts to steady himself. You tangle your fingers in his hair, combing through the midnight strands. After both of you calm down from the initial overwhelming movement, you wrap your legs around his waist and lock your ankles together, tugging him up to kiss you. His lips work softly on yours, and he slowly grinds against you. He pulls out until only the tip is inside, and as he pushes back in, he moans into your mouth. Your body shudders at the sound.

“Tell me how it feels,” he says, chest pressed to yours. “How do I make you feel?”

“Chenle, I—” You blush despite the situation.

“You don’t have to be shy with me, baby. Let me help you.” He repeats his previous movement, and you watch as his eyes flutter from the pleasure. “I can tell you how it feels for me.”

You nod. “Please.”

The pace he sets is slow but has electricity coursing through your veins anyway. He continues to pull out almost all the way, just to allow you to experience the entirety of his length rubbing against your inner walls.

He gulps, pressing his lips to your ear. “You’re divine, darling. You’re squeezing me so tight, I could stay here forever. It’s like you were fucking made for me, soaked and so fucking warm, baby, you take me so well.”

Everything he does is like a lightning strike, every fiber in your muscles breaking down as you yearn for this completion. You know you’ll never be able to stay away from him. Even if you don’t finish, this journey is just as good as the destination.

“Feels like I’m on fire,” you whisper. Thankfully, your eyes are closed, or he’d see them roll back. “You’re everywhere and it’s still not enough.”

He picks up his pace a bit, and a moan tumbles from your lips. He holds himself up on one of his elbows, his other hand gripping your thigh.

“That’s it.” He kisses you, gently biting at your bottom lip as he pulls away. “I could never have enough of you. Need you always. Forever.”

Your heart thuds against your ribcage, and despite the pleasure clouding your brain, you allow those words to sink in through your skin and bones, deeper still until they reach your soul. There, they repeat over and over again until they’re permanently tattooed upon every recognizable piece of yourself. The hand on your thigh skirts downwards, his palm pressing on your abdomen as his thumb brushes your clit. You jolt and whine, digging your nails into his shoulders. He curses, but doesn’t let up. As the knot forms in your stomach, you open your eyes to watch Chenle, his face scrunched in pleasure as your walls flutter around him as your high approaches. He doesn’t look away from you, and as you lift your hips to match his thrusts, his fist clenches the sheets next to your head.

“So fucking wet,” he groans, his thumb never faltering in pace as he rocks his hips against yours. “You’re so perfect, darling. Gonna let me feel you cum?”

Between the slide of his length inside you and the pressure on your sensitive bud, you’re dazed at best. You nod, gripping onto him.

“I’m so close,” you whimper. “God, I want it so bad.”

Chenle adjusts his hips, and the next time he thrusts in, he hits a spot that has you seeing stars. You’ve never unraveled like this before, but your body shakes as overwhelming pleasure takes over, your vision spotting as you cry out and grip onto your husband. Your toes curl as he quickens his pace, and it doesn’t take much longer for him to press himself as deep as he can to finish in the condom. His body slumps on top of yours, his chest heaving as he presses his lips across your hot skin.

“(Y/N)...” he says between pants. “Oh, my God.”

You let out a breathless giggle. “I didn’t do any of the work.”

“Promise you, just you being here is more than enough for me.” He kisses your cheek and gently removes your legs from his waist. “I’ll be right back.”

You stop yourself from whining at the loss of him inside you, but as he goes to dispose of the condom, you get yourself clothes to put on. You slide a new pair of panties on before setting your silk pajama set on the bed.

Chenle’s arm wraps around your waist, and he presses his back to your chest. “What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed.” You chuckle. “What should I be doing?”

“Absolutely nothing.” He presses a kiss to the base of your neck. “Supposed to be naked in bed and waiting for me.”

“Ah, is that so?” You pretend to be in thought, tapping your fingers on his wrist.

“Mhm. Don’t you know bare skin-to-skin contact promotes good bonding?” He pulls you away from the foot of the bed and guides you back to where he left you. “Bet you’ll sleep better, too.”

The two of you climb into bed together, and despite the way your internal temperature is much too high, you still thrive in the extra warmth of his embrace. You rest your head on his chest, his nails gently scratching up and down your back. He falls asleep first, his steady breathing nearly lulling you as well. You adjust your head on the pillow so you can see the softness of his features, and you allow yourself to reach up and trace along his cheekbone. If anyone had asked you at the beginning if you’d ever thought a moment as intimate as this were possible, you’d quickly tell them no. There was no way you’d ever let yourself be so vulnerable with anyone. Especially not someone who has no obligations to you other than legally marrying you.

But this is more. It’s so much more than a business arrangement, and maybe a part of you has always known that. It wasn’t hating him you were scared of, but loving him.

But here you are. And you’re long past falling.

Your morning is unfortunately hectic in the wake of the events of last night. Of course, you should’ve expected moments of relaxation in your marriage to be nearly non-existent, but neither you nor Chenle wanted to get out of bed. Despite that, today you planned on going to the address listed on the bank account. You roped Jisung in, even though he didn’t know all the details. He’s your cousin, after all, and he wasn’t going to let you do anything potentially dangerous on your own. Although, you’re not sure he could do anything in a ‘dangerous’ situation anyway. He may be physically giant, but he truly acted like a teddy bear.

You and Jisung sit in the backseat while the driver takes you to the house, and you’re flipping through a binder of papers while Jisung is on his phone.

“You know.” He pauses, waiting for your attention. “I stopped by your house last night.”

You turn to him and frown. “You did? How come I didn’t see you?”

“When I arrived, the staff said it would be best not to interrupt you at the time. They didn’t really say why, but I can only imagine. Either you and Chenle were in the process of murdering each other, or you guys are really going all in on the heir making.”

Your face heats up and you scratch your head. “I—I took your advice, is all. We’re kind of trying to figure things out, I think.”

“Uh huh. So the turtleneck isn’t a strategic move?”

“Park Jisung!” You push his shoulder. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“No, of course not.” He bites back his teasing grin. “I’m just saying, it’s good that you’re opening up to him. You guys are pretty much stuck together, so you should at least try to make the best of things.”

“But yes, we are certainly…making the best of things.” You grin to yourself and focus back on your binder.

“So, I can stop hearing your dad complain about no heir news soon?” He rolls his eyes. “That man is truly insufferable.”

You shake your head. “Can’t say the possibility is zero, but we used protection, so probably not. And yes, my father is insufferable. When he came over last time, he implied Chenle was impotent in front of both of his parents.”

“I’m shocked by both—why not try for pregnancy if you’re already sleeping together? And why would you not being pregnant after two months mean Chenle’s impotent?”

“You just live for drama, don’t you?” You quirk an eyebrow at him. “My husband would prefer to only have a family if it’s a real one. Meaning we would love each other. And I don’t question my father’s logic. I’m not sure how he got as far as he has in business when he lacks so much common sense. Like I’m a breeding mule or something.”

“Huh.” Jisung pauses and slumps back against his seat. “Aren’t you lucky?”

“Luck has nothing to do with it, Andy. None of this is short of hard work.”

Your driver opens the door, and before Jisung can respond, you’re stepping onto the sidewalk. The house in front of you is in a suburb, an exact replica of everything else around it. It’s not remarkable by any means. For someone making over half a million dollars every year, they sure do still live modestly.

“Don’t say a word,” you warn Jisung. “I’ll handle this.”

“Considering I have no idea what’s going on, I will happily let that happen.”

You stop at the front door, knocking three times. Standing completely rigid, you wait for anyone to answer. Once it opens, you’re confronted by a surprised woman. Her hair is long and black, reaching the center of her back. Brown eyes widen in shock.

“You can’t be here.” She moves to shut the door, but Jisung stops it over your shoulder.

“I’m—”

“You’re Chenle’s wife. I know who you are.” Her jaw tightens. “You need to go.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not an option. I’m here on company business, because apparently someone decided sending $143,000 a quarter to your bank account was acceptable. You can let me in, or we can make a spectacle out here. It’s your choice.”

The woman, who can’t be too far from your age, blinks through her frustration and opens the door wider for you to step inside. You do, and she gestures to the couch.

“Have a seat. I’ll grab us all some water.” She exits the room, and you and Jisung sit down on the couch.

Despite you being resilient in hiding your nerves from people, Jisung is able to read you like a book. “Don’t jump to conclusions,” Jisung warns you quietly. “You have no idea what’s going on.”

“Right. Only her being familiar enough with my husband to only use his first name. Not a big deal at all.” You clench your fists together.

“You said he had no idea about the payments.”

“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t know her.” You shake your head. “He has no idea I’m here.”

Movement catches your attention, and you see eyes peeking around the corner. Your jaw drops before you can stop yourself, and then the small child steps into the open. You grasp onto Jisung’s sleeve, and those conclusions he told you not to jump to? Yeah, you dive into them.

“Who are you?” he asks. He can’t be more than four, and he looks achingly familiar.

“Jisung,” you whisper.

Jisung leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m Jisung. Who are you?”

“My name is Yichen.” He walks over and sits on the coffee table in front of you and your cousin. “I’m almost five.”

“Wow,” Jisung feigns surprise. “You’re getting so old.”

“That’s what my mommy says, too.” He scrunches up his face.

You’re struggling to breathe at this point, and that’s when Sujia decides to come back. She curses under her breath the second she recognizes her child in the room, and she quickly sets the glasses of water down before shooing him back up the stairs. You’re suddenly, painfully aware of Chenle telling you he’s been in love before. Of knowing there are women out there he’s wanted in the same way he’s sure he wants you.

“I think I’m going to puke,” you whisper to Jisung, careful not to let Sujia hear. “You don’t think…?”

Before Jisung can confirm or deny whether your suspicions are valid, Sujia sits across from you on the couch. The first thing you do is look for a ring on her finger, and when you don’t find one, you feel an unmistakable lump form in your throat.

“Why are you here?” she asks. “I’ve done everything I was supposed to. I haven’t told anyone anything, and my son and I are peacefully living far away from everything.”

“That’s the issue. I haven’t the faintest clue who you struck some sort of deal with for this money, nor do I know why. And if you want the payments to continue, you’ll tell me everything.”

“Is there something in specific you’d like to ask?” She frowns.

“What makes you say that?”

“You suddenly look like you’re ready to rip my throat out,” Sujia retorts.

“The child. Is he Chenle’s?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Sujia visibly recoils, eyes widening as she glances between you and Jisung. “You…Are you joking? Of course not. Chenle—dear God, Chenle’s my brother.”

You swear your life flashed before your eyes, and as you drop your head into your hands, you let out a shaky sigh of relief. Your heart still races, but it starts to slow at the news that your husband doesn’t have a secret child.

“I’m sorry, your brother?” Jisung asks. “I wasn’t aware Chenle had any siblings.”

“No one is. That’s why we’re receiving the payments.” She pauses, wetting her lips. “Chenle’s father—our father—met my mother many years ago. I see him quite often, and he’s aware he has a grandchild. I figured he never told Chenle, and this confirms my suspicions. Considering his parents never divorced, I can only assume it’s because she is also unaware.”

“He recently became aware of the payments.” Because of you. “And quite honestly, I don’t think this news will sit well with him.”

“Don’t.” Sujia shakes her head frantically. “Don’t tell him. We…We need that money, okay? And he has full power to take it away from us.”

“Do you know anything about him?” you ask her.

“Just what our father told me.”

“Chenle is exponentially kind. He’d never simply cut ties and leave you to struggle. It’s not like you lied to him by choice.” You take a deep breath and brush your skirt off. “He’s the best man I know. And for that reason, I could never intentionally keep this from him. I’m sorry.”

“I understand.” Sujia runs her tongue along her teeth.

“And on the off chance he doesn’t continue payments, I will personally make sure you’re okay.”

“You actually care about him.” She tilts her head at you.

“It’s hard not to care for someone like him.” You stand up. “I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time. And for thinking your child was my husband’s. Thank you for talking to me. Can we exchange numbers? I can keep you updated on how things go.”

You make haste of retrieving her number, and then you and Jisung leave the house. Once you're back in the car, you let out a long, pent up breath. You tug your fingers through your hair and curse quietly.

“Are you okay?” Jisung asks.

“Honestly? I’m okay now that I know this isn’t Chenle’s fuck up.” You nod. “I think I need to pay his father a visit.”

“You’re going to confront…his father?”

“I’m going to confirm the story, obviously. And if it’s true, I’m going to tell him what an incredible fuck up he is.” You turn off the emotions switch, your face going stone cold. “Chenle looks up to that prick.”

When you arrive at his parents’ house, you’re greeted by staff and Chenle’s mother. Jisung opts to stay in the car, and his mother rushes to bring you further into the house.

“Ah, (Y/N), what a pleasant surprise.”

Not if she doesn’t know about the secret child.

“What brings you here?” she asks.

“Chenle requested I bring these files for his father. Is he here?” You smile at her.

“Of course. He’s in his office. It’s down the hall, all the way to the back on the right.” She pats your shoulder.

You bow your head to her in thanks, and then you make your way down the hall. Knocking once, you await his confirmation to walk in. He sits behind the giant desk, glasses hanging on the edge of his nose. You note a lot of Chenle’s features come from him, but you can’t believe how vastly different they truly are.

“(Y/N).” He leans back on his chair. “Was I expecting you?”

“No.” You approach him and drop the paper with her bank account information on it. “Liu Sujia.”

His eyes widen, barely noticeably, and he looks at you. “Where did you hear that name?”

“Did you think no one would notice payments that high to a random bank account? From the company?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. A bank account means nothing. You can’t even be sure I was the one facilitating such payments. Chenle has been CEO for years now, so it’s been under his nose, too—”

“I don’t need your excuses. Or your explanations. You’re not my father, and quite frankly, I don’t care about the state of your family.” You glare at the man in front of you. “But I also spoke with Ms. Liu. She has a child. Your grandson, and Chenle’s nephew. You think he doesn’t deserve to know?”

“If you don’t care about the state of my family, why are you doing this now?”

“Because I care about my family. And the second Chenle married me, he became part of it. And while you may not love your son, I do. I won’t let you lie to him.” The words fall right out without a second thought, and you fight the embarrassment of admitting your feelings to his father before Chenle.

“So, why come here? Why not go right to Chenle?”

“I’m sure he will have his own things to say to you later. I wanted the chance to let you know, objectively, what a selfish asshole you are. Your son idolizes you for the life you built for him. For showing him that a man can be loyal to a wife he may not love, if not for his child’s sake. But you weren’t. Everything he respects you for is a lie, and you’re despicable for being okay with that.”

“How dare you come into my home and talk to me this way?” His eyebrows furrow in anger, and he leans forward, but you don’t even flinch.

“I don’t fear you,” you hiss at him. “You are human, just like everyone else. If you deserve to be scolded like a child, I have no problem being the only one with enough balls to do it. If you lose Chenle because of this, I hope you lie in your fucking grave. I’ll pay people to dance on it.”

You turn your back on him, throwing the door open and stomping down the hallway before you give him the opportunity to say anything else. Sending a smile towards Chenle’s mother, you nod once at her before walking back outside to your car.

Gaining the courage to tell Chenle takes much longer than you’d like. You get back to your office, finding Chenle waiting for you. He smiles at you, one of his genuine, happy ones, and presses a quick kiss to your lips as you approach him.

“I never thought I’d find a time where the CEO’s not busy,” you tease him. “What are you doing here?”

“I figured we could take a break and go get some lunch.” He tugs you closer. “It’s been a long day, and all I want is to be with my wife. Is that so wrong?”

You purse your lips and tilt your head. “Wrong? No. Crazy? Maybe a smidge.”

“Wow, you just called me crazy. That hurt.” He chuckles.

“How about we just order something and eat it here?” you ask. “I have a bunch of stuff to do, but I would love for you to be with me.”

“Of course. What did you want to eat? I’ll tell the secretary to order it.”

“Whatever you’re thinking is good,” you tell him, leaning back on your desk. “I’m not too picky.”

“I’ll be right back.” He kisses your cheek, and when he closes the door behind him, you let out a sigh. It feels like you’re lying to him now, but you couldn’t drop something huge like that on him now.

Not when he was looking at you with such affection. What if you telling him this makes him hate you, too?

When he comes back, he sits across from you and rests his head on his palm. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” You frown at him. “What do you mean?”

“You’re just acting…different, I don’t know. Is this about last night? Did I do something wrong?” His forehead creases with worry, and your heart sinks in your chest.

“No, no, last night was good. I really liked last night.” You try to fight off the embarrassment at your words, but it doesn’t work very well. The tips of your ears burn.

“Okay.” He reaches across the desk and grabs your hand. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going on. As long as I’m not the one making you feel that way, I can wait until you want to talk about it.”

“Chenle,” you whisper, squeezing him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being you.” You glance down. “For not being what I expected.”

“I want to take care of you. Not because I think you can’t, but because I want to. I can be a safe space for you, and I’d never do anything to harm that image.”

You stand up and walk over to him, grabbing both of his hands. “I think I might be able to let you do that.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this.” He pulls you closer until you’re straddling his lap. “You amaze me every day.”

“We’re at work,” you scold him.

“I don’t see you trying to move,” he teases, palms exploring your back. “I was kinda sad we had to rush this morning. I would’ve loved to just lay there with you for as long as possible.”

You relax on top of him, fighting a smile as you study him closely. “I need to stop wearing lipstick.”

“Why?” he asks. “Do you wanna kiss me again?”

“I want to kiss you a lot.” You nod.

“I can wipe lipstick off.”

“What if mine gets smudged?”

“Tell people to mind their business. We’re newlyweds.” He watches your expression as his hands dip down to grip your ass through your dress. “I think the newlywed era started yesterday. Because all I want to do is be with you. All over you. Inside you.”

“Jesus Christ, Chenle.” You smack his chest. “Composure.”

He grins. “C’mon. You were thinking it, too.”

“We certainly can’t do it here,” you tell him.

“It’s my building.”

You give him a pointed look. “I’m trying to get your employees to respect me. They won’t if they think I’m here simply because I let you screw me on the desk.”

“I gave you the position before I ever even slept with you.”

“They don’t know that.” You roll your eyes and clamber off his lap. “There actually is something I wanted to talk to you about later at home. Are you leaving at a decent time?”

“I figured we’d leave together whenever you were done. If that’s okay.” Chenle clasps his hands together in his lap.

“Perfect.”

Before you do anything else with him, you need to tell him about his father. You just hope you don’t lose your husband in the process.

You bring the binder home with you. On the car ride home, you loop your arm through Chenle’s and rest your head on his shoulder. He can sense your nervous energy and tries to soothe you with a kiss to your head. You and Chenle go upstairs, and you sit on the edge of the bed. He follows suit despite your nerves transferring into him the longer you stay silent.

“I wanted to talk to you about that charge we found.” You put your hand on his knee. “And it’s a lot, okay? So I just want you to listen to me.”

He frowns but nods in response.

“Jeno and Jisung helped me with it. Jeno found out the account belonged to a woman, and there was an address associated with it. Jisung went with me to the house, and when we got there, I met with the woman.” You pause and scratch the top of your head. “She has a little boy. He’s almost five. And to be honest, it was a possibility in my head that you might’ve…I don’t know, accidentally fathered a child, but thankfully, it wasn’t that.”

“(Y/N), who is she?”

“She’s your sister. Your half-sister, I guess.” You gulp, refusing to make eye contact with him. “And the little boy is your nephew.”

“Oh.” His voice shakes uncharacteristically, and he inhales.

“Your dad has been paying her and her mother off for years so you and your mother didn’t find out.” You close your eyes. “And she begged me not to tell you because she’s scared she’ll stop receiving her money. Which I get, honestly, but I couldn’t keep this from you. Not when I know how—”

“(Y/N), please. I need a second.” He drops his head in his palms. His jaw tightens, and he angles his gaze to the ceiling.

“Come here,” you murmur, opening your arms for him. Immediately, he melts into your grasp, resting on your chest as you stroke the top of his head. “I’m so sorry.”

He grasps the fabric of your dress in his fist as he uses you to ground himself. “The whole time I admired him for being better, he just fucking sucked?”

You can’t tell if it’s anger or sadness that makes his voice shake.

“You’re sure?”

You nod. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that,” he tells you. “You didn’t do this.”

“No, I didn’t, but I love you, Chenle. I hate seeing you like this.” You and Chenle both tense up. He lifts his head to look at you, and your heart nearly shatters at the welled up tears in his eyes. You keep looking at him, more than nervous for his response.

“What?” His voice is hoarse, almost like it’s caught in his throat. “What did you say?”

“It’s not important right now, okay? I wasn’t thinking.” Your own tears form, and you try your best to blink them away. “No thinking, just feeling didn’t really work in this situation, huh?”

“You love me?” He cups your cheek and turns you to him. “Do you mean that?”

“Are you kidding me?” You scoff. “Of course, I do.”

You shouldn’t have done that now, given how overwhelmed he is, but it truly slipped out. He stares at you in shock, and when he parts his lips, a tear slips down his cheek. You shake your head, reaching forward and wiping it away with your thumb.

“Don’t cry,” you say. “This is all so much, I shouldn’t have dropped that on you like this, I’m so sorry—”

“Stop apologizing. Please.”

“I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

“Darling, at this point, you’re the only one who hasn’t.” He rests his forehead on yours. “And you…you loving me makes all of this worth it. Nobody has that power over me when I have you by my side.”

“I do. I love you.” You sniffle and hold him tighter.

“I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you walk into the room. I love you when you’re a thousand steps ahead of me, and I love you when you’re walking my pace. All the time, without fail and without reprieve.”

Every bit of oxygen is stolen right from your lungs, and all you want to do is scream and cry and punch his father in the face. Such a pathetic man doesn’t deserve a son like Chenle.

“Zhong Chenle, you’ve broken me in all the best ways. That terrible wall, the shell around my heart…I don’t want to face the world alone anymore. I need you with me.” You rub your thumbs along his cheeks, swiping up the next couple tears that fall.

“I will be better than my father. Than yours. We’ll do this the right way, okay?” He inhales sharply.

“I don’t doubt that one bit.” You lean forward and kiss his forehead. “What are you thinking? What do you want to do about all of this?”

“I’d like to meet her. My sister. And my nephew.” He chews the inside of his cheek. “She won’t have to worry about money. We’ll have to stop paying her through the company, but it’ll come out of our personal account. If that’s alright with you.”

“Somehow, I had a feeling you’d say that. Of course, that’s okay with me.”

“Can you set that up please?” he asks softly. “I honestly don’t know how, and she already knows you so…”

“You don’t have to explain. I’ll do it.” You run your fingers through his hair. “You’re the bravest person I know. Not everyone would handle it the way you are.”

“We’ll figure this out, yeah?”

“Between the two of us, there’s not a problem in this world we couldn’t solve.” You kiss the tip of his nose and stand from the bed, holding your hand out to him.

“What?”

“I was thinking we could take a bath. Help each other relax.”

He gives you a tired smile and nods. “That sounds amazing.”

You start the water and put a more-than-appropriate amount of the bubble bath liquid in it. Tying your hair up to prevent it from getting wet, you smile to yourself when you feel Chenle’s hands on your waist.

“Need some help getting this off?” He tugs on your dress.

“I might need help with everything,” you hum, letting your eyes flutter shut as he unzips your dress.

Once it's thrown across the room, you unbutton Chenle’s shirt, pushing it from his shoulders. Soon enough, both of you are beneath water and bubbles, and his arms are locked firmly around your waist. You rest against his chest, allowing the lavender scent to soothe your stress.

“Y’know what we’re missing?” you mumble. “Champagne.”

“I can have someone bring it to us. Just say the word.” He kisses your temple.

You shake your head. “We’re naked.”

“They’re professionals.” He laughs and squeezes you. “And I can have them leave it in the bedroom.”

“Right, and make sure there’s a heart made out of flower petals on the bed.” You roll your eyes.

“You can have anything you desire, (Y/N). You’re my wife. The sky’s truly the limit.” He explores your skin out of curiosity, mapping his way around your body.

You sit up and look over your shoulder at him. “You know what I want?”

He raises his eyebrows in response.

“I want it all.” You grab his hand. “I want you. The good days and the bad ones. Whatever trial comes our way, I want us to figure it out together.”

“Do you…Do you actually want children? Or is that something you feel like you have to do?” he asks.

“Honestly, I don’t know. There was a brief moment when I met Sujia and Yichen that I thought…I thought that he could’ve been yours. I mean, he looks like you a little bit, but he’s your nephew so that’s not weird. When that became a possibility in my head, it hurt. Stung, is more like it. I guess I figured that any children you’d have would be mine as well, and to think there were others you might have—”

“Darling,” he coos, tightening his grip on you. “I promise you, I do not have any secret children. Nor will I ever. You will be very, very aware of any child I have. I don’t want them if it’s not with you.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“That’s good.” You nod and lean back against him once more. “We have time to think about it, right?”

“Take as much time as you need.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You hesitated to have Chenle meet Sujia so quickly. A week passes before you consider reaching out to her, and you know Chenle is waiting for it. She has to be too, at this point, probably worried about whether or not her money supply was going to be cut off. He has yet to confront his father, but you assume that will come with time. For now, you’re curled up next to him in bed, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. Finally, it’s a rest day for you both, and you get to spend the whole day with him uninterrupted.

His fingers run through your hair, a deep breath passing by his lips. “Darling.”

“Hm?” You move closer to him, burying your head in his neck.

“Kiss me?”

You don’t hesitate to do as he asks, humming against his lips as the two of you connect. He shifts to his side to get closer to you, his hand trailing from your hip, down your leg, until he finds the back of your knee. Pulling your leg over his waist, he shuffles closer to you, pressing his body to yours.

“What are you doing?” you ask him, smiling.

“Loving you,” he replies easily, sliding his hand back up to your ass. The thin fabric of your shorts does little to hide the sensation of him squeezing you. You don’t mean to gasp, but you attempt to distract him by tangling your fingers in his hair.

“Tell me what you want.” You pull back to get a good look at him.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he admits. “How fucking good you made me feel.”

“More.”

“You’ve been telling me you love me for a week now and I haven’t been able to hear it when I’m inside you. God, I never thought I’d be like this. It’s only been a week.” He squeezes you harder, pushing his hard length against you.

As he grinds himself slowly into your core, you curse and wrap your arms around him. “Why did you wait this long?” you ask him breathlessly.

“Didn’t wanna push you.” He kisses along your neck, nipping wherever he can reach. “Don’t want you to think this is all I want. Fucking been hard all day, darling. Every time you walked into the fucking room all week, instantly ready to bend you over.”

Your body shudders as you process his words. “Why don’t you lay back? Let me take care of you.”

“I need you so bad,” he groans. “I could cum just hearing you talk like that.”

You push him onto his back and quickly straddle him. Rolling your hips, you curse under your breath as you feel his hard length against your clit.

“Chenle,” you mutter, trailing your hands beneath his shirt. “Do you prefer ass or tits?”

“That’s an odd question.”

“You won’t regret answering.”

“Ass.”

“Perfect. Do you have a condom?” You raise your eyebrows at him.

“They’re in the bedside table—darling, I didn’t prep you yet—”

“You’re not the only one who’s needy,” you interrupt him, quickly moving to grab one of the wrappers. Before you climb on top of him again, you kiss his cheek. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want, my love. You don’t have to ask.”

You shove your shorts and panties down, and as you pull at his sweats and boxers, his fists clench at his sides. His length smacks against his stomach, and he wraps his fingers around himself to relieve some of the ache. You didn’t get to see it much the first time, but you take a second to appreciate just how fucking pretty he is. He’s so hard, it’s probably starting to hurt.

He runs his thumb over the tip and gasps. “Baby, please.”

You waste no more time in getting the condom on him, and then you straddle his lap again, but backwards this time. As you quickly sink down on his length, taking him all the way inside, he moans loudly.

“God, you’re so fucking hot.” He drags his nails down your back until he reaches your ass, and then he grips you tightly with both hands. “You needed me, too, huh? Dripping all over me when I haven’t even touched you yet.”

You brace yourself on the mattress between his legs, and set a fast, steady pace. He moans every time you sink all the way down, and your fingers curl into the sheets. You easily ignore the ache beginning in your thighs when you listen to him and how good you’re making him feel. He spurs you on, his moans slowly turning to higher pitched whines.

“Can we—fuck, can we try something?” Chenle asks, gripping your hips to hold you still.

“Whatever you need.” You shakily lift yourself off of him, and he quickly moves from below you. He removes his shirt before aiding you in doing the same.

He guides you to arch your back, your face pressed into the mattress as your walls clench around nothing. His tip catches on your clit, and your body jolts, but you grip onto the sheets instead.

“Gonna fuck you good, darling. Wanna hear you the whole time, got it?” His voice sends needles of pleasure pricking into your spine, and you know you can ignore everything else once he’s buried inside you.

“Yes.” You nod. Your fingers curl into the sheets as he slides in. The angle has you seeing stars, and your mouth falls open at the sensation.

His hands squeeze your ass as he starts slowly, the rub of him against your walls making your legs tremble already. You worry briefly about being too distracted, but as reaches around you to put his hand between your legs, all thoughts besides the way he feels completely obliterate. He rubs your clit in pace with his thrusts, his breathing uneven as he works your body as if he’s touched you for years. You barely recognize yourself when your moans slip past your lips. You’ve never let go like this before, and through your daze, you push yourself back against him. He tentatively smacks your ass, light enough to make you crave the contact. You can’t breathe as you curse.

“Again,” you whine, your entire being on the brink of collapse. “More.”

“Earn it, baby,” he commands. “You know what I want to hear.”

You let out a shuddering breath as his tip nudges that spot inside you. “Fuck, I love you. I need more.”

He smacks you harder this time, and the loud, needy moan that pours from your lips gets distorted by the way he starts to slam his hips against you. His fingers speed up on your clit, and you’re already teetering on the edge. Sounds of your arousal emanate around the room, mixing with both of your moans. His skin clapping against yours has every muscle in your body craving the release you know is so, so close.

As your high smashes into you like a tidal wave, the pleasure is so overwhelming, you cry out and clench onto the sheets. Chenle curses as his thrusts begin to falter, but you barely hear him. You’re much too sensitive, and you whimper as his fingers still work your bud. Without warning, he pulls out of you. You whine at the loss, attempting to push back, but he grips your hips and flips you onto your back. Gasping at the sudden movement, you grab for him as he climbs over you.

“What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly.

“I need to see you, darling.” He inhales sharply as he pushes back inside you. “And kiss you.”

His lips connect with yours as he keeps his steady pace. His chest rubs yours, the heat almost unbearable as your tongues fight for dominance. A groan slipping out of his mouth interrupts your kiss, and next thing you know, he’s as deep as he can get, panting against your collarbone.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “I love you.”

“Me too,” you reply, breathless as you run your fingers through his hair. “I love you, too.”

“That wasn’t too much, was it?” He peppers kisses anywhere he can reach—your neck, your chest, your shoulders.

You shake your head. “No, I’m just a little surprised. You can tell me when you want me, you know. You don’t have to wait for me to initiate.”

“It’s been…an interesting week, you know?” He pulls out of you, kissing you softly one last time before he goes into the bathroom to get rid of the condom. When he comes back, he lays down on top of you again. “I came twice.”

You recoil, angling your head to look at him. “Just now?”

“Yep. Came when you were on top of me, too,” he hums in content. “And I’ll have you know that’s never happened to me before.”

“Had someone on top of you or finished twice?”

“The second one.” He pauses. “But I—”

“You don’t have to explain.” You snort. “I have a past, too.”

“That’s good. Don’t wanna move,” he mumbles, pushing his head further into your neck.

You laugh. “Don’t, then.”

Chenle falls asleep fairly quickly, and you kiss his forehead before wiggling out from under him. You grab a new pair of panties and slide them on before grabbing one of his button-downs. It’s much too late for any of the staff to be out and about, so you grab your phone and head to the kitchen. When you look at the screen, the worry settles back in the pit of your stomach. Sujia had texted you forty-five minutes ago, asking you for an update on the situation. After a week, you think Chenle has probably had at least a little bit of time to come to terms with everything. You text her back to let her know Chenle wants to meet her, and then you get your water. You don’t want Chenle to ever feel hurt like that again, but it’s not going to just disappear. You know better than that. But it doesn’t change how seeing him so upset broke you to pieces, too. If you could, you’d ruin anything that even tried.

He was right all along.

Being in love doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It makes you stronger. Gives you a purpose other than what is required of you when you’re from certain bloodlines. From the beginning, you were sure Chenle would never—could never—mean anything to you, and even though he told you otherwise, you had to find out for yourself. You’d start wars for him. You’d do anything to make sure he was okay, because at the end of the day, he truly is the only person to love you without conditions involved. He cares for you not because he has to, not because he’s forced to, but because he wants to. Because he chooses to. You refill the glass for Chenle and head back upstairs. When you open the door, he stirs, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he turns and sits up.

“Where’d you go?” he asks, running his fingers through his hair.

“Water.” You hold the glass up and set it next to him on the bedside table. Standing at the edge of the bed, you look at him, unable to fight the small smile forming.

“What?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“You’re just…” You chuckle and shake your head. “Shut up. You’re just really cute like this.”

He holds his arm out to you. “Pinch me. I’m pretty sure I’m still dreaming.”

“Oh, you’re hilarious.” You smack at his wrist.

He tugs gently on the bottom hem of the shirt you’re wearing. “I like this on you.”

“It was the first thing I found.” Embarrassment climbs through you. “Sorry, I should’ve asked.”

“What part of that sounded like I wanted you to ask?” He snorts. “You’re always welcome to anything here. You should know that by now. But you’ve been away from me for way too long. C’mere.”

He opens his arms for you, and you chuckle and climb into bed next to him. When he lays on his side, he tugs you to follow suit. You listen to him, staring into his eyes while his thumb rubs on your hip through the white fabric.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“For what?”

“For trying with me. Not running away. Letting me love you. The list is honestly endless.” He kisses your forehead. “Not to mention I really would’ve fucking lost my mind with all of that stuff last week if you hadn’t been there.”

“Speaking of.” You shuffle closer to him. “She wants to meet you. And I really think you should do it, because at the end of the day, she’s your sister, you know?”

Chenle hesitates, thousands of emotions crossing through his gaze like a storm. “You’re right. You can set it up for whenever, and I’ll be there.”

“I’m sorry this happened, Chenle.” You intertwine your fingers with his. “And I want you to know that, no matter how you’re feeling, you can tell me. I want to help you process.”

“I’ll be okay, darling. Truly. It’ll just take some time getting used to it. I do think it’ll be nice to have a sibling, although she’ll probably hate me for…I don’t know. Being legitimate?”

You laugh, burying your head in his neck. “You’re not taking her money away, so I doubt she’ll hate you.”

He hums quietly, sleep still heavy in his voice as he pulls you flush against him. “I shouldn’t be able to love you this much yet. Slow down, would you?”

“You, of all people, should know that those words do not exist in my vocabulary.” You close your eyes and breathe him in. “I love you, too.”

Sujia sets the day for the upcoming Saturday, and so while the days pass, you witness Chenle slowly lose his mind. He’s not upset at Sujia at all, but he obviously is with his father. It’s an incredibly large secret to keep from your family, so he has every right to those feelings. The entire car ride to her house, he’s squeezing your hand so hard, you fear he’ll cut the circulation off. His leg bounces restlessly, and the frown hasn’t left his face once today. The driver opens the door, and you get out first to at least attempt to lessen your husband’s nerves. You’re unfortunately aware of the straggle of photographers waiting for the two of you. While you’re not sure how they found out about this, you’re not worried about them in the slightest.

Once Chenle’s on his feet, you loop your arm in his. “Be calm. There are cameras, so at least wait until we get inside to freak out.” “Yes, ma’am.” He sends you a sly grin. The two of you approach the door, and you knock. Sujia opens the door quickly, ushering the two of you inside to prevent herself from being seen. Chenle removes his sunglasses, and you take them from him to put in your purse.

“(Y/N), it’s nice to see you again,” Sujia greets you. You nod at her. “Likewise.” “Chenle, you’re a little more intimidating in person.” She clasps her hands together. “Are you guys thirsty? I’ll get some water.” “Actually,” you say, patting Chenle’s arm. “Why don’t you two get your sibling introductions out of the way, and I’ll just play with Yichen. He’s my nephew, too, after all. And I’m pretty sure I scared him last time.” The two of them both flounder for words, neither of them wanting to be without you in a moment like this.

“It’ll be okay. Seriously. Neither of you bite, and Sujia, he’s actually really sweet. He just looks like he hates everything.” “As you can see, my wife is my biggest fan.” He presses his lips into a thin line as he fakes a glare. “Anyway.” You smile at Sujia. “I assume the child is upstairs?” “Yes, but if you want him to not be scared of you, you may want to refer to him by his name or something other than ‘the child.’” She scratches the top of her head.

“God, there is so much I could learn from you.” You separate from Chenle’s side and head for the stairs. Much to your pleasant surprise, your nephew…in-law? is already stomping down the stairs. “Oh.” The kid purses his lips. “You’re back.” “I am.” You nod and scrunch your nose up. “I figured while your mommy talks to my husband, we could…I don’t know. Play a game or something? Do kids do that?” “You’re weird.” Yichen grimaces. “But you’re nicer this time than you were last time. So yeah, we can play with the Switch.” You don’t end up actually playing, but you do watch Yichen’s game with interest. Leaning forward with your elbows on your knees, you analyze the process he uses when he plays every round.

“You’re smart,” you comment. “My mommy tells me that, too.” He nods, seemingly unaffected by your compliment. You pause for a moment. “Does your mom…compliment you a lot?” “Uh, I don’t know.” Yichen doesn’t start the next round, but turns to look at you. “Does your mommy compliment you a lot?” You laugh. “Yeah, no. Definitely not." “Are you—”

“Yichen,” Sujia calls out. “Can you turn the game off please? There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Without a second thought, he turns the Switch off and yells to his mom to tell her he’s ready. He sits next to you on the couch, folding his hands together in his lap. You’ve met a lot of children in your day, but you never imagined one could be so well-behaved. You see the panicked look on Chenle’s face as he walks in. A laugh almost erupts from you, but you hold it back. The man is meeting his nephew for the first time and can’t seem to shake the nerves away. You can only imagine what it’ll be like when he meets his own child. You tense the second that thought crosses your mind.

When?

A legitimate chill runs down your spine, and then you realize how close Chenle has gotten. He squats down in front of Yichen, and Sujia leans against the archway into the kitchen.

“Hey,” Chenle starts. “I’m your uncle. And you’re my nephew.” “Oh, wow.” You really didn’t think it could get any worse than you. “Do you know her?” Yichen nods his head towards you. Chenle smiles. “Yeah. That’s my wife. So that makes her your aunt.” “She said her mommy doesn’t compliment her.” His eyes widen. “Is she a bad person?” Your husband lets out an exaggerated gasp. “No way. She’s the best person I know.” “How?” “Well, she told me about you and your mommy when nobody else did. She’s really, really smart and, c’mon, she’s gorgeous. What else could I want in a wife?” Chenle grins, sending a quick glance your way. “I guess you’re right.” Yichen shrugs. “Do you wanna play a game with me?” “Absolutely.” He nods in response. You stand to give Chenle room, touching his shoulder lightly as you go to stand by Sujia. Leaning on the wall next to her, you quickly realize attempting to take your eyes off of your husband is futile. “He likes kids, huh?” Sujia asks. “He really likes family,” you reply.

“Do you want children?” “Oh.” You chuckle to yourself and fold your arms over your chest. “I’m not sure. But we…don’t really have a choice. We signed a contract and heirs are part of the deal.” “I’m sorry, but I really don’t envy you,” she tells you. “At the end of the day, it’s not that bad, though.” “So, you and Chenle actually love each other.” She hums, tapping her foot. “I feel like that’s rare for people in your positions.” “It is,” you agree. “And honestly, had it been up to me at the beginning, we wouldn’t even be…friendly. We’d be tolerating each other.” "Wow, he fought for you.” Humor laces in Sujia’s voice. “Well, I told him that I’d rather tolerate him than learn one day that I might hate him instead. He was entirely right when he said it wasn’t the hate I was scared of. It was love. Of relying on someone else.” “At least you can rest assured that he would be a good father.”

You don’t respond for a moment, watching Chenle interact with his nephew. They must win something in the game, because they dramatically high five each other. The smile on Chenle’s face is wide, and your heart flutters as a result.

“Yeah.” You fight your own grin. “Yeah, he really will.”

You and Chenle are at Sujia’s for hours. It’s clear the two of them are similar, and thankfully, your husband seems to enjoy having a family member other than the ones who have disappointed him. Yichen warms up to you both, and by the time you’re leaving, he’s hugging you both goodbye and asking when you’ll be back. Chenle is still smiling as he leads you back to the car.

“That went a lot better than you thought, huh?” You ask as he helps you into the backseat.

“I don’t know what I thought.” He shakes his head. “But it’s cool not to be an only child. Even if it’s unconventional, you know? And that little kid is freakin’ cool.”

You lean on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re making the best out of this situation.”

“Actually, do you mind if we make one more stop?”

“Of course not. Where to?”

“I think it’s time I had a conversation with my father.” He pats your leg. “And I could really use your support.”

“Chenle.” You tilt your head at him. “If you don’t know by now that I would follow you anywhere, you’re not as smart as I originally thought. We may have to reconsider this whole thing.”

He sucks in a deep breath through his teeth, holding back his laugh. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that contract is pretty air tight.”

“Damn.” You roll your eyes and kiss his cheek. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

“The luckiest.” He lifts your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles. “Can’t even joke about that one.”

Chenle isn’t even nervous as the two of you approach his father’s office. He grips your hand tightly, but his resolve has never been stronger. Despite him doing this on his own, you feel an odd swell of pride deep in your chest. You’re so proud of the man he’s always been, and how he only ever wants to be better. His father already knows what’s going on the second he sees you both. At that point, Chenle releases your hand and drops his folder on the desk.

“What’s this?” his father inquires.

“A lawsuit,” Chenle replies nonchalantly.

You almost gasp in shock. And while you shouldn’t be enjoying the awkward tinge in the atmosphere, you feel like you need a bag of popcorn right now.

“I’m sorry?” He recoils in shock.

“You seem to forget that when I became CEO, you no longer had any claim to the company’s profits. And if I did my math correctly, which I did, $143,000 a quarter is roughly $572,000 a year, which is a grand total of $2,288,000 from the four years I’ve been seated in the CEO position.”

“Chenle, you have no right—”

“You don’t tell me what I have the right to do, actually.” Chenle buttons up his suit jacket. “So, you’ll be paying me back the money you owe me. That you stole from me to protect your little secret from getting out. But that must really suck, because you actually delivered a handwritten apology letter to Sujia and to your wife and your mistress and me and the employees at the company that’ll be announced in about ten minutes. To the whole world.”

“Your mother cannot know about this. Whatever you’ve done, you reverse it immediately.” The angry expression on his face does nothing but make Chenle grin.

“Your secret’s out, Dad. Crazy how you had two children and never learned how to be an actual father.” Chenle brushes himself out and points at the folder on the desk. “I’d read that. You might wanna think twice before fighting it.”

“You’ll understand one day,” his father replies. “There’s more to life than marriage, and it’s only a matter of time before you—”

“I will never be like you.” The smile immediately falls from his face. “I love my wife, and I’m not a fucking coward. I don’t need a second family because the first one wasn’t good enough for me. This is the last time you’ll hear from me. And you won’t be receiving any money from my company again. I hope you’re happy with yourself.” 

Your heart pounds in your chest, your lips parted in shock as you realize what’s happening. Your husband turns his back on his father, gently holds out his hand to you, and shoots one last ice cold glare over his shoulder as he leads you out of the room.

As soon as the door shuts behind you, you laugh in disbelief. “Chenle, holy shit.”

“Dude, my adrenaline is fucking crazy right now.” He chuckles and blows out a deep breath. “That was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done in my life.”

“This might be terrible to say, but I am…so attracted to you right now.” You blush as you squeeze his arm.

“So, nothing but good things today.” He helps you into the car.

Once he shuts the door behind him, you climb onto his lap and kiss him. He groans in surprise, his hands immediately finding their place on your ass.

“What? You like when I put people in their places?” he teases you, leaning forward to barely brush his lips on yours.

“There were a lot of things I liked from today.” You unbutton the first button on his shirt. “It was…very hot of you to absolutely destroy a man like that. You held your ground and…I don’t know. The tone of your voice was sexy.”

“My God, am I learning things about you today.”

“If it helps you, I’m also learning things about myself, so.”

“Mm, please tell me what else you’ve got hidden up your sleeve.” He squeezes your ass gently, pushing you closer so you feel him hardening in his pants.

“I think…we should throw every single condom away. Permanently. We’ll have an endless amount of babies for you to play games with. Of course, you’ll also have to tell them I’m gorgeous, but—”

“You’re serious.” His jaw drops, hope sparking behind his eyes. “Darling, you better not be joking about something like that.”

You shake your head. “I’m not joking. You were on to something when you said you wanted everything. A real life, a real love, a real family. Why don’t we have it all?”

“Right now? You want kids now?”

“If we’re gonna have twenty, we really have to start now, otherwise I’m gonna be too old—”

He cuts you off with an earth-shattering kiss as he pulls you flush against him. His fingers tangle in your hair, and you giggle into his mouth. The only thing that separates the two of you is the door opening.You gasp and climb off his lap, clearing your throat and fanning your cheeks from the embarrassment of getting caught. Your husband grips your hand and pulls you towards the house, and you can’t stop the profuse laughter escaping you as he apparently decides you’re walking too slowly and hoists you over his shoulder.

“Oh my God, Chenle, put me down.” You can barely speak through your laughs.

He only listens to you once the two of you are inside and he’s able to set you on the kitchen island.

“If you’re doubting it even a little bit, darling, you’d better tell me now.” He kisses down your neck. “Because I don’t care how fucking long it takes, we’re not stopping tonight until I get you pregnant.”

“You’re crazy.” You push his shoulder. “You have no way of knowing if you’ll—”

“Baby, don’t ruin my fun. Tell me if you really want this.”

“I do, Chenle.” You cup his cheeks, smiling at him. “I want it with you. They all need to look like you. I want at least one boy and one girl, and they’ll be best friends because—”

He kisses you again, groaning as he slides his hand beneath the skirt of your dress. “Keep talking.”

“Um, I just really think you’d be a good dad,” you say, lifting your hips so he can pull your panties down. “And, uh, you’ve proven how much family means to you, so it makes me feel safe. I—shit.”

He presses two fingers to your clit, and your body jolts. Chuckling, he traces along your pulse with his lips. “How are you so wet already?”

“Well.” You let out another breathless laugh as you grind your hips to match his pace. “It so helps that my husband is the hottest fucking man in this universe.”

“You think so highly of me,” he hums, teeth grazing your ear lobe.

“You’re cruel for this, you know.” You rock upward, and your head lolls forward. “Teasing after you clearly feel how badly I want you is just…so rude.”

“I’m sorry, baby. Please forgive me.” He moves down to your entrance and thrusts two of his fingers inside you.

You cry out, holding onto his shoulders. With a frustrated groan, you push his jacket off of him. He curls his fingers and pumps faster, thumb returning to your clit.

“Fuck, Chenle, wait.” You smack at his wrist. Even though you don’t want him to stop, you want more. He stops immediately, pulling back to look at you.

“What? Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay.” You kiss him hard. “I need you inside me right fucking now.”

“First of all, you just scared me.” He tsks as he unbuttons his pants. “You need my cock so bad you can’t fucking take what I give you?”

Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing. You shudder at his tone, shuffling closer to the edge of the counter. He pushes his pants and boxers down to the middle of his thighs, and your mouth waters at the sight of him. He’s hard, tip leaking precum as he spreads your legs further. The fabric of your skirt prevents him from having enough room, and the dark look in his eyes sends another burst of wetness to your core.

“Love how these skirts look on you but fucking hate how I can’t fuck you in it.” He taps your hip, and you lift yourself up so he can unzip it and tug it down quickly.

You barely even pay attention to what his doing when he pulls your ankles up to the edge of the counter and spreads your thighs apart until they begin to ache.

“Now, isn’t that a fucking view.” He wets his lips as he wraps his fingers around his cock. Thrusting into his fist a couple times, he uses his other hand to tease your clit.

“Chenle, please.” You gasp, tugging him closer.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby, I can see it.” He drags his tip along your entrance, pushing in just enough to watch the head of his cock stretch you open. He’s entranced by the way you take him so easily, his eyes focused on where the two of you connect.

Your pleasure intensifies simply by watching him so drunk on you, just appreciating the way you take him. You feel every vein in your body buzzing, and you can’t help it but to push your hand between your legs and rub your throbbing bud while he’s entranced.

“You have no fucking patience,” he hisses, grabbing your wrist and pushing it away. You whine at the loss, but his glare stops you. “I’m trying to enjoy my wife’s pussy, but she’s just so fucking needy, isn’t she?”

“Oh, God.” You grip onto the edge of the counter.

“Watch how easily you take me.” He flicks your clit. “Look.”

You let your gaze travel downward until you see his cock positioned outside your hole. Instantly, the room gets much hotter. You struggle to breathe, anticipating the stretch he gives you. His tip is covered in your arousal, but the rest of his cock has yet to feel you.

“Fuck me, Chenle,” you mutter almost incoherently. “I wanna watch.”

He finally obliges, nudging the tip between your folds again before sinking inside. He moves so slowly, you want to cry. You need more, and the stretch wreaks havoc on you when you’re watching. Every time he’d fill you up another inch, he’d pull out until his tip is barely caught inside you, and then sink in just one more inch. You’re losing your fucking mind, but you can’t take your eyes away from where he pleasures you. Finally, he bottoms out, the position of your thighs allowing him to press all the way against you, his pelvis hitting your overly sensitive clit.

“Are you ready?” he asks. “I need to fuck you.”

“You know I’m ready,” you reply, dazed from the pleasure of him seated so deeply in you.

He starts a steady pace, both of you still staring at the way you stretch to accommodate him.

“You feel so fucking good like this, darling.” He thrusts harder. “Nothing between us this time.”

You cry out when his tip hits your cervix. Your legs start to shake from how far they’re spread, but all you’re focusing on is the way your arousal shines on his cock when he’s pulling out of you. You feel every inch of him, and the way he rubs against your walls is so different without the condom. You’re fucking delirious, and every time he presses all the way inside you, the pressure on your clit has you getting closer and closer.

“You’re squeezing me so tight, baby,” he groans, moving his hand down between the two of you quickly. His thumb glides over your most sensitive area, and you can no longer hold back your sounds.

“Fuck,” you cry out, legs shaking as your orgasm lingers so, so close.

“Cum for me.” He slams into you. “Not gonna fill you up ‘til you cum, darling.”

You tip and tilt over the edge, convulsing as your high hits you hard. Chenle keeps rubbing you, thrusts picking up speed as he fucks you through your euphoria. He crashes his lips to yours as he spurts inside you, covering your inner walls with white as he pants. Your whole body shakes as you hold onto him tightly. Both of you are covered in sweat, but it does little to bother either of you.

“How does it keep getting better?” you ask. “You have that effect on me.” He shrugs, chuckling as he guides your legs around his waist. “And I wasn’t kidding. We’re not done yet.” “My insides are gonna be mush.” “What if I’m gentle next time?” He kisses along your neck. “If I fuck you with your legs up, apparently it’s more likely to happen that way.” “Insatiable.” You pull back to kiss his lips. “You’re lucky I am, too. Take me upstairs.”

You don’t make it all the way upstairs. Not at first. He decides he has to take you on the couch, up against the wall next to the staircase, the desk in his office, and then your bed. By the end of the night, you’re absolutely exhausted, but you’ve never felt so fucking good in your life. And for someone who thought you could never have it all, you realize just how damn close you are to having a perfect life when you have Chenle by your side.

#nct dream #chenle #nct #nct dream smut #lowkeyjaemle #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut #chenle smut #chenle au #nct au #nct dream au #kpop au #kpop x reader #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #nct dream x reader #nct dream x y/n #nct dream chenle #zhong chenle

[brookheimer]

not sure why people don't seem to understand that shiv being the victim of misogyny and vitriol from all the men in her life can and does coexist with the fact that she is not a feminist liberal hero fighting to save democracy. why is it that we never afford her any nuance? she's either the only good person on the show and deserves to kill every man in a ten foot radius (twitter) or a uniquely evil cruel sociopath with no heart fueled entirely by spite (reddit). is it not just so much more interesting for her to be a fascism aiding and abetting character like the rest of them who also views herself as more progressive in spite of everything else about her and who undergoes horrific treatment at the hands of the men around her yet has no interest in undoing the system that allows them to do so, only in ruling it herself? shiv is not any better than the others nor is she any worse than them. there's no Evil Olympics here guys, nor should there be. snook said it herself in the after credits sequence -- shiv was just lucky that her interests aligned with her sympathies. who knows what she would've done had mencken been her best personal option? yes she cares infinitely more about politics than roman, yes she is still very much interested in maintaining the capitalist, fascist structure and even strengthening it, so long as it ends with her on top (which either way would be a win for liberal causes bc Woman). fascism isn't one-size-fits-all. it's not just mencken and trump. it's also mattson. it's also logan. it's also roman and shiv and kendall. that's... kind of one of the main points of succession? but even so, that does not negate the fact that as a woman it is so hard to watch some of the scenes with her and tom/roman/kendall -- of course that misogyny will resonate with female viewers, as it should!!! but that resonance needs to coexist with a deeper understanding of her character -- if you want to root for a bad bitch fighting against misogyny go watch, i don't know, captain marvel or whatever. what makes shiv interesting is that she's so so so much more than that -- she is the product, victim, and perpetrator of misogyny and fascism, two concepts so heavily intertwined they're virtually inextricable from each other. tl;dr it's one thing to be like my god someone give shiv a gun and it's another entirely to say, entirely seriously, that shiv is the Good Liberal Feminist One and the rest are all evil. like i absolutely adore shiv but i would honest to god find her so fucking boring if she were actually the person these tweets make her out to be i'm sorry

#me: shiv isn't evil! \ everyone: oh so she's the only good one? #me: shiv isn't good! \ everyone: oh so she's the only evil one? #NUANCE GUYS. IT EXISTS. #honestly i just don't get it. how are you all not just like bored by the versions of these characters you've created #all this being said. every man that called shiv hysterical tonight should be shot and killed. #<3 #succession #succession spoilers #casey shut the fuck up about shiv roy #shiv roy #long post #100 #500 #1000 #dude if i thought this would get notes i would’ve proofread it first. LMAO #like this is literally a word vomit ramble that i didn’t even read before posting . embarrassing 4 me #this time on posts i didn’t expect to get notes

[itsjusthockey]

Hey hun!! Could u write about something about Jack getting injured pretty bad with him being his clumsy self and catching his edge or something. Reader feels obligated to pamper him every second of everyday and is just so gentle with him it gets to the point where Jack is like “babe just because I hurt my leg doesn’t mean we can’t make out or do it” cause reader is like so scared of hurting him but Jack is just super needy

Smooth - Jack Hughes

Summer Series Open Now

This was a request, keep sending them I love them (if I get more than five new request, I drop a new fic tomorrow)

I changed a few little things but I love how this turned out

Much longer than expected, whoops

w.c 1,516 (credit to gif maker) (slight suggestive content)

You’re honestly surprised Jack has lived to see the grand age of 22. He may think he’s agile, smooth even, but you know better. In fact, you’d dare even to say that your boyfriend is one of the clumsiest people you know. It’s honestly a miracle he hasn’t broken anything, especially since this summer; he’s really been pushing his limits.

“Babe, Babe! Look.”

You turn your head up from the book you are currently devouring to stare at your boyfriend. You watch as he does a cute little flip on the wave and throws you a couple of peace signs. You smile, give him a thumbs up, and not a second later, he dives off the board and into the lake.

He quickly gets into the boat, grabs a towel, and shakes out his hair. As soon as he’s only a little wet, he walks toward you, sitting right next to you and placing your legs on top of his.

“That must be a damn good book. Usually, you can’t take your eyes off me.”

You roll your eyes at him, gently placing the book down. “Well, if you must know, it is very interesting. Lots of murder, lots of mayhem.”

As soon as the sentence leaves your lips, he snatches the book from your lap, reading the back insert. After a couple of seconds, he hums.

“Looks kinda good.”

You smile and snatch it back. “I’ll add it to your list.”

Jack nods, smiling again at you, and leans over to kiss your forehead. When he pulls back, he nods toward Luke, who is currently surfing at the back of the boat.

“I think I’m gonna go again; try that thing Luke saw on TikTok.”

Once he says that, you narrow your eyes at him.

“The last time you tried something like that, both of you almost drowned.”

This time Jack rolls his eyes, shaking his head wildly.

“Please (Y/N), your lack of faith is insulting. We’re experts.”

You shrug your shoulders at your boyfriend; you honestly don’t care; you know that sometimes their little tricks can become problems.

Mere minutes later, the two of them are hooked up and gliding effortlessly on the water. Quinn is driving the boat, and you’re watching, realizing this may be something you want to see. You’re also sitting beside Trevor, who’s filming the entire thing.

It’s starting great; they do a few little tricks while you and Trev cheer them on. You also catch when Jack does another turn a throws a wink your way, dragging his hand through his hair which he knows you love.

You’re honestly pretty impressed at the pair, not that you’d ever let them know that, but they look good. Everything seems to be going great until it’s not.

You’re all still cheering them on when they reach their final move. One second they’re both good, then in a blink, they both go down, but not before you hear a slight yelp from your boyfriend as he hits the water.

As soon as they fall, Trevor’s eyes dart to you, both of you sharing the “oh fuck” look. Quinn notices this, too, and weaves the boat around quickly.

When you finally get to the pair, they both look a little nervous. Trevor moves first, quickly moving to put down the ladder. Seconds later, he’s helping pull Jack up, Luke also helping to push him into the boat. You can’t help but wince yourself as you watch your boyfriend's nose scrunch up in pain.

As soon as he gets into the boat, he swings his leg up, and everyone can see the blood dripping down and a giant purple bruise forming.

Without saying a word, you grab the first aid kit from the front of the boat and swing into action. You sit across from your boyfriend, wordlessly opening a few supplies. You’re not mad, of course; you’re just worried. Injuries aren’t ideal for hockey players, even if they're small.

“Oh, son of a bitch,” Jack hisses as you wipe some alcohol pads over the rather large cut.

You glance up at him to see some tears welling up in his eyes, and as soon as you meet his eyes, he rips them away. You know he’s mad at himself and, obviously, in quite a bit of pain.

“Is he gonna make it?” Luke asks, watching behind you.

“Don’t know, might have to cut it off.”

You look toward Jack as you make the joke, trying to ease the slight tension, but he doesn’t seem very impressed.

Ten minutes later, you’re docked, and Trevor and Luke are tasked with getting Jack to the house. You stay behind, helping Quinn get the boat settled and doing the glamorous job of wiping your boyfriend's blood off the boat floor.

“He’s lucky that wasn’t worse.” Quinn breaks the silence. “I should’ve backed you up more.”

You shake your head, throwing away the bloody paper towels. “They were gonna do it anyway. He’ll be fine.

You both finish up and go to the house, seeing Luke and Trevor in the kitchen, but no sign of Jack.

“He’s upstairs,” Luke says, gesturing toward the stairs.

You walk by and ruffle his hair slightly, to which he wacks your hand gently away, throwing you an uneasy smile.

You head up the stairs to the bedroom, and when you enter, you see your boyfriend lying on the bed, his foot propped up with some ice on it. As soon as you enter, his eyes follow your figure as you move toward the dresser, grabbing some clothes to change into.

Before you go to the bathroom, you stop.

“Do you wanna shower all the lake and sunscreen off you?”

Jack whips his head toward you, and after a bit of silence, he nods. You move to help him, getting him into the bathroom and helping him peel off his shorts.

Soon you’re both in the shower, and you’re making sure he keeps his weight on the good leg. In the bathroom's light, the bruise and the cut look terrible, and your heart breaks everything he winces.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out after minutes of silence.

You give him a confused look. “Why? It’s not like you planned on getting hurt, J.”

You quickly swipe some hair from his face, forcing him to look at you.

“I know. I just should’ve listened. And also, I was being a dick, which you don’t deserve, but I know if I talked to you, I’d start crying.”

His admission makes you even sadder, and you quickly pull your boyfriend down to meet you. Placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

“It’s okay, J.”

You finish the shower, and for the rest of the night, you dote on your boyfriend. You make sure he’s comfy, get you both snacks and turn on his favorite movie. Minutes tick by, and you’re comfortably tucked into his side when you notice he isn’t watching the movie.

“You okay? Tired?”

He shakes his head, and m he pulls you into him, connecting your lips. You smile into the kiss and then pull back away from him. This causes him to pout, and he leans back in, pulling you into him, but you resist.

"Hey now, let's not add more injuries to the list, shall we?" You give him a sweet smile and another quick peck, "How about you settle for snuggling? We don’t need any more dangerous stunts, and we can save that for when you're back to your agile, smooth self.”

Your teasing causes Jack to pout further and rolls his eyes, ducking down the meet your lips again. You slightly let him win, letting him deepen the kiss a bit before you pull back once again. As soon as you do, he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I appreciate the concern, but I still have two legs, babe.”

He raises his eyebrow at his suggestive comment, and you roll your eyes back as far as they can go.

“Gross.”

He snickers, pulling you back in and moving his lips down your neck, stopping at the place you go crazy for. You can’t help but squirm as his lips send tingles down your spine.

“Jack, you're impossible," you laugh, trying to maintain some composure while he continues his teasing assault.

He lifts his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, if I can't be agile on the water, at least I can be smooth here," he winks, earning himself another eye roll from you.

“Smooth, huh?" you quip, a smirk forming on your lips. "I'll believe that when you can walk without limping."

He smiles another big smile, and his eyes grow soft.

“Please, I’m 100% sure you will heal me, and I promise I’ll be careful.”

You stare deep into his eyes, and you feel yourself breaking.

“Fine, but I’ll do most of the work.”

Jack's eyes darken as the words leave your lips, and at record speed, he pulls at your top.

“If that’s the case, I think I want to stay injured forever.”

#hockey #hockey boys #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey fic #nhl hockey #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #quinn hughes #luke hughes #trevor zegras #summerlakehouseseries

[emeraldkniight]

𝓢𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗒 ୨ ໋ ˳ ⊹ eng. . . !

superman, wonder woman and batman x f!reader

WARNINGS: smut drabble, gang bang, some sexual degradation, masturbation, oral sex, p in v. Diana!bisexual.

COPYRIGHT: No copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

LANGUAGE: English is not my first language and I am still studying to master it. It makes me insecure to write by myself in another language, so I used the translator. I apologize in advance for any mistakes. The original version is here.

There was always something strange and unlikely about these three from the moment you met them.

They were all hiding secrets. According to you, hiding secrets was one of the most common parts of human nature. You were not interested in knowing what they were all hiding, but your curious mind was obsessed with knowing what the holy trinity of the Justice League was hiding beneath their sleek and sophisticated veneer of heroes; what no one would dare doubt or question.

The price of your curiosity was more costly than you could have ever imagined, a debt that would have to be repaid. Now you were part of this madness, and no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn't escape.

The good news was that you didn't want to.

You knew that the moment you felt the three of them completely, you were content to belong.

It was just hard to think of anything else when you found yourself tied to a chair, completely naked and unable to move while three pairs of blue eyes analyzed you.

The beautiful princess of Themyscira had no shame in digging into your sweet crotch. Her fingers slid across your sodden vaginal lips with a sound so vulgarly obscene that it caused you to inadvertently stir in your chair.

You looked intently at the two male figures as you tried to get as close to Diana as your body would allow so you could kiss her and feel her fingers go deeper inside you.

But before you could reach her lips, you were brutally pushed away by the man of steel, who had the clear intention of tasting your mouth first. Not that you were complaining; Clark's tongue was heavenly. It had a strange but hot connection to your lips, so it made you a mess right away. Who would have thought that Superman's ultimate power would be to soak his victims so easily?

Still, you didn't deserve them to be nice to you. On the contrary, you should be punished for insubordination. What you did was unforgivable.

In your defense, you didn't know that you were exclusive to the trio and couldn't sleep with other people. The rules weren't very clear when you met them, or when they started their no-strings-attached sex adventures.

Of course, you were not exclusive to anyone, and you planned to make that clear in the future. Right now, you were too busy cumming on Diana's fingers drilling your pussy that you didn't have enough time to think about anything else.

The adoration the Bat had for the way your pussy enveloped him so warmly brought out the most dominant and morbid part of his inner self. The sight of his cock moving in and out of your little hole at the same time your mouth was happily eating Clark's erection and your fingers were eating Diana's clit was enough to bring you to the verge of orgasm.

You gagged as the tip brushed against your uvula. You couldn't even concentrate enough because of how hard he was penetrating you. The pleasure was embracing.

— Look at our little slut. She can't even concentrate on sucking a good cock while she's being fucked. - Wayne commented. He kept going right into her sweet spot; faster and faster, more and more precise.

— She was too bad. Should we give her a prize though? She always takes us so well. - Kent continues, asking. You're beginning to control the rhythm of your mouth, although it's still a little difficult in some ways.

— Oh, Hera! - moans the princess of Themyscira. - That feels so good. - Her fingers can't resist trying to help themselves so she can come on your hand.

This is definitely the best part of the day, the one you enjoyed the most. And of course that was the guilty pleasure that came with keeping a secret. The secret the four of you shared.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne #batman #batman smut #batman x reader #clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent smut #superman #superman smut #superman x reader #wonder woman #wonder woman x reader #wonder woman smut #dc comics #dc universe #dc au

[pomefioredove]

lily of the valley

bonjour et joyeux premier mai! in france and belgium we give our loved ones lily of the valley flowers on may day to wish them luck in the upcoming year. sooo I thought... why not treat a few of my favorite boys?

summary: gifting them a lily of the valley type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, epel, rook, vil, lilia additional info: platonic or romantic, reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, not proofread

𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

"...Oh? And what's this?"

your first "victim" of the day is none other than the strict and formal Heartslabyul housewarden himself

as a man of tradition, and an enjoyer of flowers, you figure Riddle is the perfect place to start

as you're already well aware of the gardening culture in the Queendom of Roses, you even make an effort to read up on botanical facts about the gift ahead of time, if only to impress him

and... well, you didn't have the time to paint these ones red

or is that only for roses...? these rules can be quite confusing...

When you hand him the gift, he's simply surprised. Flowers? But he doesn't remember asking you for these...?

Riddle inspects the sprig of lilies in his hand, rolling the stem between his fingers as you explain their meaning

and, much to your delight, he's pleasantly receptive

"They're not roses, but... I suppose they're very nice. Thank you,"

𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫

"Now, what's all this for?"

if there's one thing Epel Felmier is absolutely tired of, it's flowers

well... it's not that he hates them, it's just... they're a girly thing, right? not to mention that Vil keeps them everywhere- the lounge, the rooms, he'd bet even that creepy basement under the dorm has a pristine porcelain vase full of the seasonal picks

ah, but flowers from you...?

and ones with a special meaning, no less

he'll never admit it aloud, but he's honored you chose him, of all people, to call a loved one

and so, Epel doesn't fuss too much when you take the liberty of putting the sprig in his front pocket, displaying it like a medal of honor

he might even chuckle at the whole thing

this is almost like something an old couple would do... it reminds him a little of his grandparents, even

"Well... alright. Aren't you as sweet as apple pie today?"

𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞

"Ah? A gift for me?"

his immediate reaction? how delightful!

how long it's been since he's received flowers like this... ah, they remind him of his youth!

despite his initial excitement, though, Lilia soon becomes far more invested in the meaning behind the gesture than the gesture itself!

he's fostered quite an interest in other cultures and traditions, after all, and he'll be more than glad to listen to you talk about your own for hours, and hours, and hours...

his curiosity is quite charming, isn't it?

perhaps he and his cuteness can convince you to exchange more stories sometime!

Lilia takes such a liking to the tradition, in fact, that he passes it on to Silver, Sebek, and Malleus, giving each a new sprig of lilies with a brief (and somewhat confusing) explanation

(Malleus may have to ask you about that later)

but, of course, Lilia reserves the bragging rights of getting his own flowers directly from you

"Fufufu, I hope this won't be the last time I get flowers from you, Prefect,"

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

"Oh, my. For me? They're lovely,"

Vil has received wreaths of roses, bouquets of the finest arrangements, even entire rooms full of flowers from devoted fans and management

but... something about the measly little sprig of lilies you're handing him first thing in the morning is all the sweeter

if there's anything he'll give you credit for, it's your taste in flowers. you must have chosen the best of the bunch especially for him, the way it's practically glowing

as soon as he's done admiring your pick, he pins it to his lapel, and keeps it there for the rest of the day

this color just accentuates his uniform so nicely, doesn't it?

and once you're done reciting your knowledge about the flower, he'll be sure to add his own, explaining the symbolism of such a beauty

"Lily of the valley: a return of happiness... Hm, much like yourself, no?"

(he will not elaborate on what he means by that)

but he does have a little spring in his step for the next few hours

"Oh, and, dear? You can be sure to expect ten times as many of these from me at your door next year,"

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭

"Ah, such a lovely shape! you have an incroyable eye for beauty, mon trickster!"

quite frankly, it doesn't matter what day it is; to gift Rook a lovely flower out of the beauty of your heart is enough to send him into a never-ending soliloquy

and now you say these are meant for your loved ones? do you mean to kill him with your thoughtfulness?!

he admires the flower for as long as the day will permit, and then presses it for preservation

he wouldn't want to lose this precious memory, after all!

in fact, he'll frame it riiight next to his bed so he may wake up to the sight of your kindness every morning!

and, just to be sure you know exactly how his heart is overflowing for you, you can expect a poem and dozens of flowers waiting for you on your doorstep the next morning

really... where does he find the time?

if you ask, he'll insist he's only expressing himself to you in the same way you have to him

"I only wish to show my utmost appreciation for your beautiful heart, miel!"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #epel felmier x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #queued

[mulloey]

the new girl • ateez

ateez gets a new pet

warnings: bdsm au. dom!ateez, sub!reader, use of bdsm terms but they’re not hard to figure out, more experienced ateez, rewards and punishments, bdsm training, impact play, pet play, praise and degradation, cocky & patronising ateez, implied bisexual reader, orders, naked female & clothed males, finger blasting, anal play, oral (f receiving), mouth fucking (with fingers), voyeurist ateez at times, taking turns, no penetrative sex. everything you’d expect from a bdsm au tbh

A few days ago you could never have pictured yourself in this situation, or any like it, for that matter. But here you are, in a private room of a bar in Gangnam with eight men who seem genuinely interested in making you their submissive. How their even knew you were into that kind of thing is a mystery — or would be a mystery, were it not for your smug looking best friend behind the bar who’s been talking for months about setting you up with some of the people who patronise these rooms and make little secret (to the staff, at least) of what they use them for. But to your friend’s credit, she’s managed to pick, out of what you’re sure has to be scores of creeps and weirdos, eight extremely attractive, extremely interested men.

“We usually find our partners through matching sites and meet them here for the first time,” they’d explained, “but we’ve been out of luck recently, so we thought we’d try to find someone the old fashioned way. And when your friend behind the bar told us what a natural submissive you are, we knew we had to meet you for ourselves.”

You’d blushed at that, both at their words and the fact that your friend had so wantonly offered you up like that. But it’s true that you’re naturally submissive, and she has reason to know it; in college you’d done casual scenes a few times with her, and though you never ventured much further than whips and chains and yes ma’ams, the little you had explored was enough to show you and her just how submissive you are, and want to be. And if she trusts these strange men, who surround you like predators and stare at you like prey, then so do you.

They seem to have heard the stories too, of just how easily you’d caved when she praised you or ordered you around, and they definitely seem to like those stories. And even though you’re essentially being interrogated for your suitability as what some would call a sex slave, you feel comfortable and at ease with them, which you didn’t even know was possible in a scenario like this. So when they ask if you’d like to meet again to explore this further, you don’t even bother to blame the wine for how quickly you agree.

They offer to squeeze you into their cars to drive you home but you decline, insisting it’s not worth the trouble. With a half-joking you won’t be ordering us around for much longer they call you a cab, bidding you farewell with a quick hug each. The leader, Hongjoong, adds his contact to your phone and slips a black business card into your back pocket.

“I’ll see you soon, puppy,” he smiles.

Over the next few weeks you text and call back and forth with the men. They’re kind, unexpectedly patient and gentle considering the type of relationship you’re quickly moving towards with them. In just your luck, their schedules take them out of the country two days after your first meeting, and by the time they’re back and have enough time off to give you the attention they want to, you’ve known them for a couple of months, and like them, you’re impatient to start.

But ever the careful and responsible dominants, they insist on a few more in-person meetings with each individual member — “for your safety, puppy, and ours,” they say — before you finally get the call you’ve been waiting for.

“Hi, honey,” Hongjoong greets. “Are you ready to start?”

——————

Days later, you meet them again in a cafe in Gangnam. It’s a pretty unique set-up for a cafe, a little darker and more ambient than most, but it suits the purpose of your meeting well. You spot them quickly, huddled around a table in the far corner of the room and they see you too, waving you over. It’s only four of them, you note, not the eight you’d met the last time. They stand to allow you the choice of where to sit and you choose a seat at the edge. You know them fairly well and have no doubts of their intentions, but you know you’ll feel more at-ease knowing you can get up and leave quickly if needed. The others settle in, Yeosang next to you, Seonghwa and Hongjoong opposite, and Jongho at the end. Their gazes are fixed on you and just as intense as you remember them.

“Uh…” you start. “Where are the others?”

“We thought it’d be better if less of us came this time,” Hongjoong explains. “To make it less overwhelming for you.”

“It’s something we should have considered last time,” Seonghwa adds. “We apologise that we didn’t.”

You smile, shaking your head. “No, it’s fine,” you say.

“It’s not,” Jongho says, “but it won’t happen again. Did you bring everything we asked?”

You nod, reaching into your jacket pocket to pull out a crumpled sheet of paper with everything you’d been told to pack. “I think so,” you say as your eyes move down the list. “Yes, I think I remembered it all.”

“We’ll see later,” Seonghwa smiles. “It’s not a problem if you didn’t, though. You tried your best and you’re new to this.”

The others hum in agreement and you smile nervously.

“You even wrote it all out, didn’t you?” Jongho says, gesturing to the list in your hands. “Good girl.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“Would you like me to explain the plan for this week?” Hongjoong asks gently.

You nod, staring down at your hands as they fiddle in your lap. A larger hand comes to rest atop them, holding them still and you look up to meet Yeosang’s firm gaze on you. “Look at him and answer him properly, sweetheart,” he says, gentle but stern.

You nod, feeling stupid and look up at to see Hongjoong staring expectantly at you. “Yes please,” you say and he smiles, easing up.

“Good girl,” he praises. You blush, bowing your head in embarrassment and Yeosang clicks his tongue, wordlessly chastising you. You mumble an apology and meet Hongjoong’s gaze, who praises you again. “Think of it as a trial run, yeah? We want you, we know that, but we need to see how it will work. What kind of arrangement will suit you best.”

You nod in understanding. Yeosang releases your hands from his grip but you grab his arm as he starts to move it away, needing someone to hold onto while you digest it all. He smiles and takes your hand back in his, squeezing it gently. “Good girl,” he mumbles.

“Are you with us so far?” Seonghwa asks.

“Yes,” you say.

“Good,” he smiles. “So for this week, we’ll all be getting to know each other and getting used to our new dynamic. We’ll start figuring out the kind of submissive you are and the kind of training you’ll need. That make sense to you?”

You nod a little dazily, starting to feel overwhelmed. None of these words are new to you, of course, even in this context, but they’ve never been so real to you before. To be spoken about like a pet, a submissive in need of training, is a lot to take in. It’s also strangely, embarrassingly thrilling. “It makes sense,” you confirm. Your voice catches in your throat at first but if they notice, they don’t care. Maybe they enjoy it.

“What, um…” you trail off, feeling awkward, but a nudge from Yeosang encourages you. “What happens at the end of the week?”

The men share a look that you can’t quite decipher. “Well,” Hongjoong says, “it’ll be up to you. If you’re happy with how things are going and want to commit, you can stay with us. You’ll keep your own place, of course, but we’ll move the things that you’ll need to our place and start making it your main residence.”

“But if you want to take it slower,” Jongho continues, “which is always an option, I might add, we’ll take you home and continue getting to know you more casually, just like how you would in a normal relationship.”

“And of course, ending our arrangement entirely is an option too,” Yeosang adds. “At any time.”

The others voice their agreement and you smile gratefully. “Thank you,” you say. “I’ll remember that.”

The oldest two smile, sharing a look before Seonghwa speaks. “If you’re ready,” he says, “there are four people at home waiting very patiently for your arrival.”

—————

Their home is large, in a nice, quiet area of the city where little could disturb — or be disturbed by — you. Your bags are carried by Jongho as Seonghwa leads you by the hand to the front door. Before he can even get the keys out of his pocket, the door swings open, revealing an excited looking San standing eagerly in the doorway. “Hi, baby,” he beams at you.

“Were you watching from the window?” Seonghwa asks. San nods unashamedly and the elder mumbles something that he ignores.

“Come in, baby,” San says. “We’re waiting inside. Can I take her in, Seonghwa?”

“It’s up to her,” Seonghwa says, smiling down at you. “She can make her own decisions. For now.”

For now. His words dizzy you slightly and you can practically see the evil plans forming behind San’s eyes. He offers his hand and you take it, turning to Seonghwa. “Are you coming too?” You ask.

He smiles fondly, shaking his head. “We’re gonna get everything set up in your room for you first, honey. San’ll take care of you.”

You nod with slight uncertainty but allow San to lead you through to the living room. The set up is… interesting, you think. A massive TV, typical for a house of men, surrounded by black leather couches and chairs arranged almost in a circle. The coffee table’s been moved from its spot in the middle, leaving it, or so you have a funny feeling, open for you to be displayed to them. Just the sight of the arrangement has you feeling like prey, but what’s more intimidating is the man on the couch who looks up with interest when you walk in. He smiles kindly as he stands to greet you, but you see the look in his eyes. Without them saying anything to you, it’s clear what your place is just from the way these men look at you. You’re their toy, and they’re your owners.

“There she is,” the man — Wooyoung, you remember — breathes. “Hi, doll.”

You wave shyly at him and he smiles. “Cute,” he says.

“You remember all our names, right?” San asks and you nod. “Good girl.”

“Bring her over here, Sannie,” Wooyoung says. San nods and guides you over to sit on the couch, sandwiched between him and Wooyoung.

“Can I touch you?” Wooyoung asks. You nod and he smiles, pressing a hand to your cheek. Without realising and almost instinctively, you nuzzle into his touch and he coos, stroking your cheek gently. “You’re such a puppy, aren’t you?” He hums. If you’d been confident enough to meet his gaze, you’d have seen the dark, predatory look in his eyes.

“Wooyoung,” you whine, embarrassed. He coos again and you blush deeper, hiding your face from view.

“She’s going under already,” San chuckles. “Such a natural, aren’t you baby?”

“Already toying with her, are we?” Someone interjects. You look up to see Yunho in the doorway, staring amusedly at the scene in front of him. “I thought we agreed to wait.”

“I can’t help it, Yunho,” Wooyoung replies. “She’s so pliant.”

Yunho cocks an eyebrow, taking a few steps towards you. “Is she?”

“Just so easy,” San affirms, running a hand through your hair. “Such a darling puppy.”

You moan softly at the sensations of the men on each side of you running their hands over your body. Yunho chuckles, shaking his head. “I’m sure,” he smiles. “Do you think she’s ready?”

San and Wooyoung share a look and you stare at them quizzically. “Ready for what?” You ask quietly.

Wooyoung smiles down at you fondly. “Don’t worry, baby,” he says. He looks up at Yunho. “I think she is. Where’s Hongjoong?”

“Here,” comes a familiar voice. Hongjoong emerges from behind Yunho, his eyes finding you the moment he walks into the room. “Hey, bunny.”

You like that name. “Hi,” you squeak.

He smiles like you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen before turning his gaze to Wooyoung. “What did you want me for?”

“I didn’t,” Wooyoung says snappily. Hongjoong rolls his eyes. “We were wondering if you think she’s ready yet.”

His older’s eyes widen slightly but he seems to consider it for a second. “If Seonghwa agrees,” he decides. “Then so do I. I thought we’d wait a few more hours, but…”

“Yeah, not happening,” Yunho says. “It’ll be a tall order keeping these two off of her until then.”

The men beside you glare at him but don’t refute his words. You still don’t know exactly what it is you’re meant to be… ready for, but it sounds important. You wonder what it is that Hongjoong won’t agree to without the elder’s assent.

“Do you know where Seonghwa is?” San asks. “And the others?”

“In her room, I think,” Hongjoong says. “Just finishing up. Should we call them down?”

The three share a look, silently deciding before they nod, small smiles on their faces as they give Hongjoong their agreement. He nods, and you can see he’s smiling too, but in a different way than he’d been smiling at you earlier. There’s something behind it, a desire maybe, or an intention, that you can’t decipher. You’re not entirely sure if you want to. But you’ve willingly put yourself into his hands, all of their hands, and you’re desperate to see what they do with it.

When he calls the others down they come separately, but soon enough all eight of them have gathered in the living room with you. Even as they talk to each other about things you don’t understand, their eyes are set on you. You feel tiny and describable but also oddly safe. They stare at you like a toy, sure, but a fragile one. One they want to cherish and protect as much as play with. You already feel comfortable and warm surrounded by them in a way you didn’t know you could.

After a short and indecipherable discussion with Hongjoong, Seonghwa briefly moves his gaze from you to give him one final look. When his eyes return to you they’re even darker than before. Deep down you know that something, or someone, has just flipped the switch.

“She’s ready,” he says. “Let’s start.”

You hear your breath hitch, feeling your heart begin to race and Wooyoung hushes you, stroking your head. “Don’t worry,” he says. “It’s nothing to be scared of.”

“It’s really not,” San assures. He turns his gaze to Seonghwa who keeps it briefly before he shrugs, a small smile on his face. “We’re just gonna play with you. But the first time is always special.”

You nod, a little less nervous but still, your first time playing with them, being their submissive, is no small thing. It’s a moment you’ve been playing in your head for weeks, months — what it would be like, what they’d be like, what they’d expect, how they’d do. In the days leading up to this meeting you’d been kept up with nightmares of failing them, of falling short and being kicked to the curb despite how often they’d reassured you that they’d never, ever do that. And now that moment’s here. Time to prove yourself — or not.

San and Wooyoung stand up, pulling you to your feet by each of your arms. They each press a kiss to each of your cheeks before walking away to join the crowd, leaving you alone and watched, completely surrounded by them. Truly a prey among predators. They regard you silently for a few minutes, eyes running up and down each inch of your body before Hongjoong speaks.

“We’re going to give you a little test, pet,” he says. “It’s not to see if we want you, because you’re already ours, but to see how much training you’ll need.”

You nod in understanding and he clicks his tongue, already displeased. “The first lesson is verbal answers,” he says. “Unless we tell you not to speak, you respond to everything we tell you in words. Yes sir or no sir will do. Do you understand?”

You nod again, but realise your mistake quickly and squeak out a weak “yes sir.” Hongjoong smiles approvingly.

“Strip down to your panties,” he says. “Put them on the chair then come back to stand over here. Do it now.”

You breathe out another “yes sir” and do as he commands. You turn away from the men as you undress, too embarrassed to face them but you can still feel their eyes burning into you. Your hands shake as you unbutton your shirt, folding it neatly before placing it on the chair as instructed. Your bra quickly joins it, then the skirt and tights until all that’s left are your tiny white panties, clinging to your hips as you turn around nervously.

You feel exposed, clad only in one flimsy garment and surrounded by eight fully-clothed men. Their gazes are dark and intense on you and you’ve never felt more vulnerable. But they look pleased, which eases your nerves slightly.

“Very good,” Hongjoong says approvingly, gaze fixed on your chest. You blush, hands instinctively reaching to cover your chest but you think better of it before it’s covered. Just in the nick of time, you think, if the scowl on Yeosang’s face is anything to go by.

“Smart girl,” Seonghwa chuckles. “Are you ready to start?”

“Yes, sir,” you say. He smiles gently and beckons you towards him. As you approach him, the others move to form a circle around you. You gulp, somehow feeling even smaller than before. You’re truly trapped now.

“Right then,” Seonghwa says, clapping his hands together. You flinch at the sudden sound and you hear a few of them chuckle. With your eyes cast down, you miss the glint that crosses each of their eyes at your obvious fear. “We’ll start by seeing which commands you already know. We’ll teach you the ones you don’t.”

“Yes, sir,” you say.

“Look at me,” he says. You look up, meeting his gaze nervously and he smiles.

“Down,” he says.

It takes you a moment to register the command, and by the time you do it’s clearly too late. Seonghwa sighs, looking disappointed. He nods to a man behind you and before you can register it, five hard slaps are delivered to your ass. You yelp and try to lean away but the man snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you backwards into him.

“Disobeying already,” he breathes and you recognise the voice as Wooyoung. You whine and he slaps you again, this time reaching around to hit the front of your thigh.

“Don’t complain,” he grumbles.You breathe out an apology and he hums, rubbing the pink mark on your thigh with momentary tenderness. “And no more talking. You’re a puppy now”

You nod, and your first instinct is to apologise but you think better of it, literally biting your tongue to keep your words in your mouth. Wooyoung notices, chucking lowly before he steps back from you.

Jongho steps forwards, commanding your attention as he approaches you. He gets close enough to kiss you, close enough for you see the small details of his face, but that face is emotionless. Focused.

“This is your second lesson,” he says. His voice is even lower now, with a new quality you don’t recognise. But you know exactly what it is — dominance. Control “When we say ‘down’,” he says, “you get on your knees. Instantly and without question. If you don’t, you’ll be punished. So let’s try that again. Down.”

Desperate to obey, you let your legs give out, falling to your knees with hopeful eyes on him.He smiles, pressing a hand to your cheek and letting you nuzzle into it. “Good dog,” he says. “Up now.”

You spring to your feet without thinking, basking in the pleased looks on their faces. “Clever girl,” San praises. You smile shyly at him and he smiles back. For the first time since you’ve met him, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Then Jongho steps away, leaving you alone and surrounded again. You do your best to stay still, figuring that’s your best bet to avoid Wooyoung’s heavy hand for now.

They let you stand there, exposed and vulnerable, for a few minutes before moving on.

“Come,” Yeosang says. You start to walk towards him but he stops you with a raised hand. “Crawl.”

You gulp, shakily lowering yourself to your knees and crawling towards him. It’s only a few feet, but the thick silence and the feeling of their stares on you makes it feel like miles. It barely registers with you exactly what’s happening right now; you’re naked except your skimpy panties, surrounded by eight fully clothed men, crawling towards one of them at his command. You can’t think of anything more humiliating. Or arousing.

When you reach Yeosang he reaches to stroke your hair. “Sit,” he orders. You sit back up onto your knees and he smiles. “She’s learning fast,” he says.

The others hum in agreement. “She’s clever,” Mingi says, sounding proud.

“She is,” Yeosang agrees. “ Alright, pet. The next commands are easy. Eyes up.”

This time they give you a second to figure it out and you do, meeting Yeosang’s gaze with hopeful eyes. He nods. “Eyes down.” This one is much easier to figure out — you drop your eyes to your lap, contrite and humble. “Good girl,” he says. “Isn’t she good?”

“The best,” Yunho purrs. You don’t notice him creeping up behind you until you feel his big hands wrap gently around your throat. After a few more commands, properly obeyed depute your shaky start, he speaks again. “Shouldn’t we reward her now, Joong? She’s done well.”

A few others chime in their agreement and Hongjoong hums. “You’re right,” he agrees. “Come here, baby.”

You crawl to him, slightly faster as you begin to get to the feeling of it, and Hongjoong crouched down to your level, holding his arms out for you to crawl into. He lets you snuggle into his chest for a moment before pulling away, moving his hands to gently hold your face.

“Tell me,” he whispers. “How do you want to be rewarded?”

The answer slips out before you can consider it. “Fuck me,” you say. At his raised eyebrow, you tack on a whispered, “please, sir.”

Hongjoong smiles, running his thumb over your lips. When they part slightly he slips it into your mouth, letting you suckle at it. He looks enamoured by the sight. “No, honey,” he smiles. “You’re not ready for that yet.”

“I am,” you insist, nodding fervently.

Silence briefly abounds before Hongjoong slaps you across the face, quick and wordless, like this is a normal way for him to express his displeasure — which, when it comes to you, it probably will be. “Don’t disagree with us,” he snaps. “What you think doesn’t matter anymore. You’re not ready.”

You bow your head. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m not ready.”

Hongjoong nods. “Turn around and show me your ass.”

You obey, turning slowly on your fours until your ass faces him, leaving you facing the rest of the men. They stare at you with fascination and scrutiny. Hongjoong runs a hand down your ass cheek with feather-light touches. You feel electricity prickle up your spine, fearful. You’ve displeased him and spoken out of turn and you worry about the consequences. His hands aren’t the largest in the group but he mentioned he works out and he’s still much larger and stronger than you, so you don’t doubt that he could cause you a lot of pain if he wanted to. A few cracks of his hand against your ass would no doubt leave it stinging and you shiver at the thought.

But the harsh, punishing strikes you’re expecting don’t come. Instead he runs a long finger down the centre of your ass until it lightly grazes across your pussy. You squirm at the feeling. The others smile at the sight as their leader pushes your panties to the side to press a finger into your heat. “How does she feel, Joong?” Seonghwa asks.

“She’s perfect,” comes Hongjoong’s voice from behind you. It’s slightly strained and raspier than before. He’s clearly just as affected and you feel proud. “Tight and warm like we thought she’d be.”

You make a noise of surprise and he shushes you. You knew they’d have talked about you in your absence, but you hadn’t considered that they’d have talked about…this specifically. And the way they talk about you like a thing, like you’re not even there, is objectifying in the best way. Everything about this is hotter than you could have imagined. Even the slightest touches set your skin alight and they know it.

Hongjoong curls his finger slightly and you jolt forward a bit but he quickly pulls you back, wrapping an arm around your neck to put you in a near headlock. “Easy, baby,” he whispers. “Easy.”

You look up to see the others have inched towards you, surrounding you completely. They each look thrilled in a different way, and you’re desperate for their touch — any of them. All of them.

“Please,” you gasp. You can barely speak through Hongjoong’s grip on your neck but they hear you.

Seonghwa comes to kneel in front of you, cradling your face in his palms. “Oh baby, baby,” he whispers melodiously. “So pretty like this.”

Mingi and San join Hongjoong behind you, running their hands over your ass and their fingers through your wet folds as Hongjoong adds a second finger to your hole. With the two fingers inside you he spreads you open, allowing the other two a perfect view of your stretched out pussy. “Fuck,” they both breathe. “The prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen,” Mingi says and San agrees.

Jongho and Wooyoung and Yunho and Yeosang take their places on either side of you. Wooyoung reaches to play with your tits, grabbing and squeezing them and slapping them where they hang below you. His hits are hard like the ones he’d delivered to your ass earlier, and soon your pretty tits are decorated with red marks. The other three seem content to watch and palm themselves as Hongjoong works you open and Wooyoung abuses your sensitive tits, while Seonghwa pushes finger after finger into your mouth, lazily fucking your throat with his long digits. You gag and choke when he pushes them deeper but you do your best to suck them. Seonghwa tuts when you choke particularly violently but he seems pleased with your efforts. “You’ll make such a perfect cock sucker,” he muses. “You’re such a natural already.”

You whine around his fingers, stuffed into your throat and covered in your drool. He presses a kiss to your forehead before he pushes them in deeper. You choke but keep them in your throat and you hear Yunho whistle. “She’s dedicated,” he says admiringly.

“She was born for this.” Seonghwa speaks through gritted teeth and you look down to see his hard cock straining against his pants. You’re not sure what you were expecting exactly, but you’re surprised by its thickness. You’re not quite certain how it will fit inside you.

Returning your gaze to his, you’re met with total, almost feral darkness in his eyes. “Don’t tempt me,” he grunts. “I’ll ruin you.”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, slapping you across the cheek a couple of times until your face is red and covered in your saliva. Hongjoong’s keeping a steady pace as his fingers pump into your pussy, but there’s so many sensations, so many strong hands on you, that you can’t quite process it all. Your awareness of each man goes up and down with each movement they make and you’re completely overwhelmed.

Painfully quickly, Hongjoong pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty for one merciful moment until the men next to him take their turn. Mingi presses a finger to the edge of your asshole, not penetrating it, just gently and softly teasing the rim, but the feeling is enough to make you buck against him. His other hand grabs your waist, holding in place. “Have you never played with this hole before, baby?” He asks.

You whine, shaking your head and he laughs. “You’ll be used to it soon enough,” he says. “It’s Jongho’s favourite hole, isn’t it?”

Jongho laughs and though you know he’s right next to you, he sounds distant and out of reach. You gasp at the feeling of another, thicker finger on your asshole. Unlike Mingi, Jongho doesn’t hesitate, pushing his finger into you. It’s a completely foreign feeling, much different to the feeling of your pussy being penetrated, but in some weird way it almost feels… better. Maybe it’s the resistance your tight hole puts up against him, stretching around him then sucking him in; or maybe it’s the degrading, humiliating feeling of knowing every one of your holes is being used and explored by these men. Either way, you’ve never felt like this before and you don’t want it to stop.

While the two men play with your asshole, San dives into your pussy, latching his mouth onto it and exploring it with his tongue. You’re fairly certain Hongjoong’s fingers have already made you cream but if San notices, it clearly only spurs him on as he eats you relentlessly, pushing you quickly towards the edge.

“Fuck, San!” You scream and he growls, landing a hard slap against your already red cheeks.

“That’s not my name,” he snarls. His voice is muffled by your pussy like he couldn’t bear to pull himself away from it even for a second. You must taste good, you think with pride, but another harsh slap reminds you to respond.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you say.

You feel San smile against your pussy, large hand soothingly rubbing the red mark where he’d slapped you.

While you were distracted by the three men playing with your holes, the other five have stood up, retreating to the surrounding couches where they’ve somehow even served themselves wine without you noticing. You look up to see them watching you intently, small smiles on their face as they lounge around, taking in the sight in front of them. You must look pathetic, you think; face covered in your own sweat and drool, entire body littered with red handprints and three men stretching and playing with your holes. But you can see from the faces, and bulges of the men on the couches, that they love it as much as you do.

San pulls his mouth off of you, replacing it with his fingers before you can complain or even register the absence. He works you open a little more gently than Hongjoong, but the pumps of his fingers are strong and precise. On their side of him, the other two have started a game of how many fingers they can fit in your asshole. They do it carefully, wetting their fingers and inserting them slowly, with each finger they add you’re stretched a little more and it burns. Deliciously.

Your mouth hangs open, breaths strangled as you lose yourself in the feeling. You feel your eyes roll back as San speeds up, pumping three fingers in and out of you. Mingi and Jongho pull theirs out, rubbing your loosened asshole almost soothingly as San keeps going, faster, harder, deeper, until all it takes is for him to press this thumb firmly against your clit for you to let go, coming all over his fingers.

As soon as you’re done you collapse, letting your body fall to the floor in exhaustion. Mingi and Jongho pull their fingers out of you with moaned praises, gently stroking your back. With his fingers still inside you San lifts you up, pulling you back to lie against his chest. His fingers don’t move inside you, just sitting there like a comforting presence as he adjusts you to a comfortable position. He pulls them out slowly, hushing you when you whine softly at the loss, and settles you so your head is resting on his chest, just under his neck and chin so he can easily lean down to whisper to you. “Didn’t know you were such a squirter, baby,” he mumbles.

Too fucked out to respond, you just groan and he chuckles. “I’ve got you, honey,” he says. He starts to sway, rocking you back and forth soothingly. You hear him say something to someone else, you think Jongho, who laughs and hands him something. You look up to see San wiping his hand, wet with you slick, onto a towel. He sees you watching and smiles down at you, pressing a kiss to your head before reaching down to move your panties, still bunched to the side to expose your dripping hole, back into place.

You hear other voices around you as your eyelids start to droop. With San’s hand rubbing comfortingly up and down your back, you let yourself fall asleep, snoring softly against his chest. He watched you with a fond smile. “She’s asleep,” he announces to the others.

“Good,” Yeosang says, “she deserves it. She did well.”

Hongjoong hums. “Better than I thought. I’m so glad we found her.”

“I’m gonna take her upstairs,” San says. The others agree and he slowly stands, holding you carefully in his arms as he carries up to your new bedroom. They watch as he leaves before turning to face each other. It’s silent for a few long seconds before Wooyoung speaks.

“This is going to be so much fun.”

—————

hi! thank you for reading my first full-group fic! if people enjoy it i plan to make it into a series, but i deliberately wrote it so it can be left as a standalone as well. so please comment and let me know what you’d like! i really appreciate seeing everyone’s feedback or thoughts on my writing, and it encourages me to write more too. so please let me know. if you want this to continue, i’m also happy to accept requests for it as well as my regular requests. just specify☺️! thank you for reading as always! please reblog & comment, i can’t wait to see everyone’s thoughts on this! my seonghwa fic will be coming soon as well. please forgive any errors, i have proofread but things may have slipped through. love🖤🖤🖤

#ateez smut #ateez hard hours #ateez x reader #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #yeosang smut #yunho smut #jeong yunho smut #jongho smut #san smut #choi san smut #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #poly ateez x reader #dom ateez

[galedekarios]

waterdeep's festivities & celebrations

(credit: midnightfriday)

in contrast to baldur's gate, which has few festivals and gatherings, waterdeep in contrast has a great variety of them, prompting volo to write the following about waterdeep in his chapbook about the city:

"At many times of year, hardly a tenday can pass in Waterdeep without the staging of some rite, race, or rousing ceremony of civic pride." (from: Volo's Waterdeep Enchiridion)

in this post, i want to give an overview of these holidays and festivals. some of them are mentioned in the game, like fleetswake in a banter between gale, lae'zel and wyll, but most of them are not. they give an interesting insight in the city, its history and its people.

the most used calendar in faerûn is the calendar of harptos. it's pictured above to give you an overview of how the months and seasons work in faerûn.

The days making up a tenday did not have formal names. If precision was required, the number of the day and the number of the tenday were used, as in, "the fourth day of the first tenday of Flamerule". Days of the month were typically written as the numerical date followed by the month name, for example, "15 Hammer" or "15th Hammer". Informally or poetically this could be spoken or written as "the 15th of Deepwinter". [x]

the names of the months in faerûn are:

hammer (deepwinter)

alturiak (the claw of winter, the claw of cold)

ches (the claw of sunsets)

tarsakh (the claw of storms)

mirtul (the melting)

kythorn (the time of flowers)

flamerule (summertide)

eleasis (highsun)

eleint (the fading)

marpenoth (leaffall)

uktar (the rotting)

nightal (the drawing down)

hammer 1: wintershield

Marking the start of the new year, this observance is a widely recognized day off work, when folk sip warmed ciders and broths (often laced with herbs for health and to bring on visions) and stay inside. They tell tales of what interested them or was important in the year just done, and discuss what they intend to do or should deal with — or things that everyone “should keep a hawk’s clear eye on” — in the year ahead. Such talk inevitably leads to discussions of politics, wars, and the intentions of rulers. Maps are usually consulted, and it’s widely considered lucky to possess and examine a map on Wintershield. Map sales are brisk in the tenday preceding this holiday.

alturiak 14: the grand revel

Led by the clergy of Sune, Sharess, and Lliira, the Grand Revel is a day of dancing, music, and the consumption of sweet treats of all kinds, from chocolate to red firemint candies. Although some of the dancing is wanton and performed for show, large-scale ring dances in the street for all ages are also popular. All the dancing ends at dusk, after which bards and minstrels perform at “love feasts” for families. Couples — or those desiring to become couples — slip away together to kiss, exchange promises, and trade small tokens of affection (often rings blessed by clergy with prayers of faithfulness). Even if you have no paramour, indulge a little in the dance and food of this fine tradition. The night might be cold, but your heart will be warmed.

we learn in the game about sharess, we hear a bit about sune, the goddess of beauty and her temple of beauty in waterdeep in a banter between gale and shadowheart, but lliira is mentioned only in passing: llira is a minor goddess in the faerûnian pantheon. she's called the joybringer and is the embodiment of freedom and happiness, inspiring many poets and musicians. gale does mention her in game - or at least the llirian suites that his piano is enchanted to play.

ches 1: rhyestertide

This holiday is named in honor of Lathander’s first prophet, Rhyester, a young blind boy who was cured of that blindness by the dawn’s light on this day more than seven centuries ago. That holy event occurred in the vicinity of Silverymoon, but Lathander has long had a much larger temple in Waterdeep, and a following to match. Each of the faithful dons bright garb of sunrise hues and keeps one eye covered until the next dawn in honor of Rhyester. If you want to feel like a local, catch the eye of any celebrant you see and wink. Fine friendships have grown from far less.

ches 19: fey day

The veil between this world and the faerie realm of the Feywild is thought to be weak on this day. Though this phenomenon provokes caution in rural areas (with folk avoiding woodlands, putting offerings of food on doorsteps, and the like), it is an occasion of much drinking, singing, and dancing in Waterdeep. The wealthy host elaborate masked balls, while poorer folk don costumes of their own make and travel door to door, gaining brief entry into the celebrations in exchange for performing a song or a short play. All adopt the guises of fey beings and the supposed rulers of the Feywild, such as Queen Titania, Oberon, and Hyrsam, the Prince of Fools. Those inclined to remain sullen in the face of such frivolity had best stay home, for celebrants do their utmost to evoke a smile from those they meet.

chest 21 - 30: fleetswake

This festival celebrates the sea, maritime trade, and the gods of the sea, navigation, and weather. It spans the last tenday of Ches, and includes a series of boat races, the Shipwrights’ Ball at the Shipwrights’ House, and guild-sponsored galas at the Copper Cup festhall. According to custom, the winners of the various competitions don’t keep their trophies and earnings, but deliver them to the priests of Umberlee at the Queenspire, her temple on the beach by the east entrance to the Great Harbor, at the conclusion of the festival. The last two days of Fleetswake are the occasion of the Fair Seas Festival. During this time, there is much feasting on seafood, the harbor is strewn with flower petals, and City Guards go from tavern to tavern collecting offerings for Umberlee. Collection boxes also appear at large festival gatherings. Upon sunset of the final day, the collected coin is placed in chests and dumped into the deepest part of the harbor. This festival has existed in a number of forms since the first trade-meets occurred here more than two millennia ago, and an uncountable amount of wealth remains sunken in what has long been known as Umberlee’s Cache. The area is closely watched by merfolk guardians, whose standing orders are to kill anyone attempting to disturb it. Rumors abound that the chests have magical protections; one story tells of thieves who stole some of the collection years ago and tried to leave the city under false pretenses, only to see a squall spring up as soon as their ship left the harbor. A huge wave shaped like a hand swept the thieves overboard, but spared the ship and its crew.

this festival is one of the few mentioned in baldur's gate. as stated previously gale, wyll and lae'zel mention it in one of the banters between them in act 1:

Lae'zel notes that Gale knows a lot about mind flayers. He responds with information about his training. If there, Wyll chimes in as well. Lae'zel: You strike me cleverer than most istiki, Gale. Multiple tutors, I should guess.devnote Gale: Many a wise man and woman indeed. Waterdeep is the home of myriad scholars. Wyll: Ah, the City of Splendours. Spent a whole Fleetswake there with my father. What a delight.

tarsak 1 - 10: waukeentide

This festival has long gathered a number of older holidays under one name, stretching those celebrations into a holiday season that lasts a tenday. Among the rituals in homage to the goddess of wealth and trade are these: Caravance (Tarsahk 1). This gift-giving holiday commemorates the traditional arrival of the first caravans of the season into the city. Many parents hide gifts for their offspring in their homes, telling the children that they were left by Old Carvas — a mythical peddler who arrived with the first caravan to reach Waterdeep, his wagon loaded down with toys for children to enjoy. Goldenight (Tarsahk 5). This festival celebrates coin and gold, with many businesses staying open all night, offering midnight sales and other promotions. Some celebrants and customers decorate themselves with gold dust and wear coins as jewelry. Guildsmeet (Tarsahk 7). On this holiday, guild members gather in their halls for the announcement of new policies and a celebration of business concluded for the year. These gatherings culminate in a gala festival and dance sponsored by several guilds, which lasts from dusk till dawn and overruns the Market, the Cynosure, the Field of Triumph, and all areas in between. Leiruin (Tarsahk 10). In times long past, Waukeen caught Leira, the goddess of illusions and deception, attempting to cheat her in a deal, and buried her under a mountain of molten gold as punishment. A commemoration of that event, Leiruin is the day for guild members to pay their annual dues and for guildmasters to meet with the Lords of Waterdeep and renew their charters for another year.

waukeen is a goddess and her domain is trade and wealth.

mirtul 6 - 9: the plowing and running

Rural areas around the city observe this holiday in the traditional sense of shared activities of plowing fields and moving (or “running”) livestock. But within the city, the holiday is celebrated with a series of races. Foot, horse, and chariot races are run through courses in each ward, and the winners from each ward compete at the Field of Triumph. If you really want to see the wards come to life, this is the time. Pick your favorite, wear its colors, and cheer alongside its residents. Better yet, if you’re of an adventuresome bent, register in your favored ward and compete! Who knows? Your name or visage might soon have a place in the House of Heroes.

kythorn 1: trolltide

On this day commemorating Waterdeep’s victory in the Second Trollwar, children run through the city acting like trolls, banging on doors and growling, from highsun till dusk. Home and shop owners are expected to give the children candy, fruits, or small items. Those who give no treat can expect to become the target of a trick at sundown. This mischief typically takes the form of “troll scratchings” at doors and windows. Those with more malicious intent sing screechingly in the wee hours, and hurl raw eggs at windows, signs, and the heads of those who try to stop them. Have some candy on hand or some sweet rolls, and all will be calm where you live.

kythorn 14: guildhall day

This day is a time of trade fairs. Most shops are closed, and street sales are suspended for all but walking food peddlers. Guildhall Day celebrates the fruits of everyone’s labor with revelations of new products, innovations, fashions, and signage extolling the extent and quality of guild members’ services and wares. These offerings usually take the form of glittering displays, but guilds sometimes also sponsor brief plays or other hired entertainments (jugglers, singers, magic shows put on by hedge wizards and professional raconteurs) at which prizes or free samples are distributed. Many guilds try to recruit during this time. Guildhall Day is an excellent time to browse the city’s merchandise — and it doesn’t matter if you can’t afford what you see, because you can’t buy it that day anyway.

kythorn 20: dragondown

This day in Kythorn is celebrated with bonfires and rituals to “tame” or “drive down” dragons. In Waterdeep, the celebrations take the form of parades that center around effigies built of wood and cloth and filled with straw. Each effigy is named and has a traditional depiction, for it represents one of a handful of dragons the city has faced in its history. After being paraded to a square near where the dragon was defeated or driven off, the enormous effigy is burned. The height of the celebration comes when the effigy of Kistarianth the Red is burned on the slopes of Mount Waterdeep. A dracolich version of Kistarianth is then carried up the slopes and burned as well. These proceedings symbolize the defeat of Kistarianth first by the paladin Athar, and again decades later by his son, Piergeiron. Tradition dictates that the winners of the races run during the Plowing and Running take the role of the dragons’ slayers, with the champion of the chariot race representing Athar and the champion of the horse race playing Piergeiron.

flamerule 1: the founders' day

This day commemorates the birth of the city. The Field of Triumph is the site of illusory displays that chronicle the history of Waterdeep, as well as martial exhibitions by the Guard and other worthies. Many festhalls sponsor Founders’ Day costume contests, with prizes going to those who wear the best recreations of the garb of historical personages. Once banned as frivolous and distracting, the practice of veiling Castle Waterdeep with an illusion has been reinstated. Several mages come together to produce the effect, which seemingly transforms the castle into the ancient log fortress of Nimoar. The illusion typically lasts from midday to sunset (unless someone has the audacity and magical might to dispel it) and is regarded as a stunning work of magical art.

flamerule 3 - 5: sornyn

Sornyn is a festival of both Waukeen and Lathander, and is used for planning business, making treaties and agreements, and receiving envoys from unknown lands and traditional foes. Much wine is drunk over this three-day occasion when, as the saying goes, “My enemy is like family to me.” If you are a newcomer to the city, this time is an excellent opportunity for you to engage with new partners in business or to gain financial support for some endeavor. My agreement to write Volo’s Guide to Waterdeep was signed on a warm Sornyn evening many years ago, so who knows where your own initiative will take you?

flamerule 7: llira's night

Originally a celebration held only in Waterdeep, this holiday has since spread up and down the Sword Coast. It has received a recent boost in popularity from the custom started in Baldur’s Gate of lighting celebratory smokepowder fireworks — all purchased from Felogyr’s Fireworks of that city, and utilized only by the City Guard, of course. This nightlong festival honors the Lady of Joy with dances and balls throughout the city. Pink beverages, ranging from healthy juices to deadly strong intoxicants, are imbibed. The boom and crackle of smokepowder explosions go off all night long, so you might as well stay up with the locals and enjoy the show.

eleasis 1: ahghairon's day

Many small rituals are held throughout this day, dedicated to honoring the first Open Lord. The Lords of Waterdeep toast Ahghairon and the Watchful Order, and guildmasters toast the Lords in Ahghairon’s name. Commoners leave violets (Ahghairon’s favorite flower) around Ahghairon’s Tower, on his statue in the City of the Dead, and atop the altars of the House of Wonder. Bards perform songs in honor of the wizard all over the city. The Open Lord visits taverns and inns throughout Waterdeep to wish the people well — giving short speeches, offering toasts to Ahghairon’s memory, buying rounds of drinks, or paying for meals or accommodation. Needless to say, establishments of those sorts are generally full throughout the day.

if you are interested to learn more about ahghairon - who is mentioned too by gale in passing - or rather his lost nose - you can do so here: i've written a more extensive meta about him in this post.

eleint 21: brightswords

On this day, the City Guard, the City Navy, and the City Watch — all in glittering array — conduct parades, give demonstrations of martial skill, and stage mock battles. Those desiring to join their ranks are given a chance to demonstrate their prowess, usually with wooden practice weapons in contests against veteran soldiers. Makers and vendors of weapons sell their wares openly in the markets, experts who can hurl or juggle weapons show off their skills, and the wards compete in wrestling and boxing matches. The most anticipated part of the day is when horses are cleared from the Field of Triumph and the surrounding streets so that the Griffon Cavalry can perform aerial displays over the crowds in the stadium. Members of the Watchful Order present the cavalry with illusory foes to fight, allowing the griffon riders to engage in thrilling battles as the people watch.

marpenoth 3: day of wonders

The imaginative inventions of the Gondar are revealed on this day and paraded through the city. These devices range from something as humble as new cabinet hinges to massive mechanical constructs that walk or roll about. Failure is the paramour of invention, though, meaning it is a rare year when there isn’t some notable disruption of the celebration. The flying chair of Marchell was one such recent oddity — a device that worked marvelously on the way up but was incapable of descending. Marchell was rescued by the Griffon Cavalry, but his flying chair drifted away and was never seen again.

marpenoth 7: stoneshar

Stoneshar is an all-faiths day during which folk strive not to be idle. Even children at play are encouraged to dig holes, build sand castles, or construct crude models. Waterdavians consider Stoneshar the best day of the year to begin construction of a building, either by digging out a cellar or laying a foundation. The common wisdom is that folk who undertake new projects on Stoneshar can expect blessings upon their works in the coming year, whereas individuals who do nothing constructive on this day can expect all manner of misfortune to rain down on them in the year ahead.

marpenoth 10: reign of misrule

Swift on the heels of Stoneshar comes the Reign of Misrule. This day honors Beshaba, goddess of misfortune. People of the city are expected to break trust, belie oaths, and disobey the normal order — as long as no laws are actually broken and no rift is made that can’t be later bridged. During the Reign of Misrule, nobles serve meals to their servants, children take control of schools, priests give worship to their god’s foes, and any who wish to may participate in a guild’s trade. Pranks are played by and on many, from simple tricks to those requiring elaborate planning. Sundown brings an end to the festivities, and most folk spend much of the night cleaning and reordering things for the following day. Many visitors decline to participate, but doing so often inspires misfortune rather than avoiding it. For fear of catching the bad luck of cynics, citizens do their best to avoid talking to anyone known to not have played along, or dealing with them in any way until Gods’ Day.

marpenoth 15: gods' day

This holiday observes the anniversary of the end of the Godswar in 1358 DR, when the gods of Faerûn returned to the heavens. Private shrines are brought out into the open, and many people wear holy symbols of their favored deities. A Gods’ Day tradition in Waterdeep strictly limits the use of magic, in remembrance of the wild magic wrought during the Time of Troubles. Though not outlawed fully, spellcasting is allowable only in self-defense or in cases of extreme need. At night, this holiday becomes solemn and serious, as many Waterdavians offer prayers in thanks for the lives they have under their gods. The Griffon Cavalry sets up an immense bonfire at the peak of Mount Waterdeep, honoring the fallen and the risen gods Myrkul, Cyric, Kelemvor, Mystra, Helm, and Ao who appeared here. In thanks for their defense during Myrkul’s invasion and the resulting fires that raged through the Southern, Dock, and Castle Wards, Gods’ Day is also a semiofficial “Be Kind to the Guard and Watch Day” in Waterdeep. Feel free to participate by handing out small gifts and kind words, but be aware that any gift of greater value than a few nibs might be interpreted as a bribe.

marpenoth 30: liar's night

This holy day pays tribute to Leira and Mask. To placate those deities and ward away their attention, folk of all walks of life don masks and costumes (magical or mundane) to disguise themselves and play at being other than what they are. Commonly seen mask styles include the black mask symbol of Mask and the mirror face of the priests of Leira. But there are no bounds on the disguise you don, and the more elaborate and outlandish it is, the more celebrated the wearer. The festivities begin in the evening, when people place candles in hollowed-out gourds or pumpkins carved with faces. Each pumpkin represents a person donning a mask, while the light inside represents the truth of the soul. For as long as the candle remains lit, lies told and embarrassing things done don’t sully a person’s reputation, so celebrations often descend briefly into anarchic hedonism. Misfortune is said to come to anyone who returns to their pumpkin after celebrating to find it unlit, so buy a candle of good quality and put your gourd beyond reach of the wind. Intentionally blowing out someone else’s candle or smashing someone else’s pumpkin is taboo, and risks the wrath of both gods — yet it does occur. Tricks and pranks of all kinds are common on this night, and folk expect lies and foolishness. Pickpockets are rife on this day, so few carry much coin with them, having secreted it away somewhere the previous evening. Instead, people fill their pockets and belt pouches with candies. Traditionally, a pickpocket is meant to take the candy and leave a token in return (a tiny toy, a colorful paper folded into a shape, or the like), but this has changed over the years into adults exchanging candies among themselves and simply giving candy to children who ask for it. By custom, no deals are made nor contracts signed on Liar’s Night, because no one trusts that parties will abide by them. Illusionists and stage magicians (whether through magical or practical abilities) make the rounds to entertain private parties (having been paid in advance the previous day) or to perform in public spaces, in the hopes that a good show will earn them a meal, and perhaps a place at a private party in the future.

uktar: selûne's hallowing

On whatever night in Uktar the moon is fullest, Waterdavians celebrate Selûne’s Hallowing. The goddess is the focus of worship throughout the full phase, of course, but the major ceremony on this night is a parade of worshipers leaving the House of the Moon at moonrise and moving down to the harbor, where the high priestess wields the Wand of the Four Moons in a ceremony blessing all navigators. This holy relic is said to be the mace wielded by Selûne in her first battle against Shar, and again in a fight with her sister during the Time of Troubles. It miraculously appeared in Waterdeep after the Godswar, and has since been the focus of many divine signs. You can view it in the House of the Moon at other times of the year, but only from a well-guarded distance. If you’re lucky, you might see the Wand of the Four Moons weep. Droplets said to be the tears of Selûne manifest on the mace from time to time, and are collected by the priestesses for use in potions that can heal, cure lycanthropy, and be used as holy water.

uktar 20: last sheaf

Sometimes called “The Small Feast,” this day of residential feasting is held in celebration of the year’s bounty. Small gifts (traditionally hand kegs of ale, jars of preserves, or smoked fish and meats) are exchanged among neighbors, and “last letters” are gathered for carriage by ship captains and caravan merchants — so called because they are the last to leave the city before travel becomes difficult. Of Waterdeep’s many celebrations, this one is perhaps the most relaxed and relaxing. Plan to spend a little extra on good food and enjoy a meal with those nearest you, be they dearest hearts or the folk across the hall in the inn.

nightal 11: howldown

In honor of Malar, members of the City Guard leave the city in groups on this day to hunt down known threats to farmers and travelers, including brigands, wolves, owlbears, ogres, and trolls that haunt the roads and wilderness. These hunts typically last no longer than a tenday. During the same span of time, the City Watch engages in its own rigorous hunt for malefactors within the city walls. If you’ve any reason to doubt your standing in the eyes of the law, avoid Waterdeep for at least a tenday after Howldown. With no real hunting to do of their own, the children of Waterdeep spend Howldown engaging in mock hunts of adults dressed up as monsters, and play at the killing of these predators.

nightal 20: simril

When dusk comes on this day, folk go outside to locate particular stars that were lucky for their ancestors, or that were associated with their own births. They then attempt to stay up through the night, celebrating outside with bonfires, song, and warmed drinks. Cloudy nights often draw larger crowds than clear ones, since glimpsing your star through the haze is thought to be a blessing from Tymora. Inside buildings, service folk keep roaring fires and engage in making food to keep celebrants fed throughout the long night and into morning of the next day. If you have no particular star of your own, you’ll find many vendors of star maps willing to divine which is yours — based upon your place and date of birth — and to point you in the right direction for a shard or two.

all information is taken from volo's waterdeep enchiridion.

i hope this was helpful and information to some of you!

🖤

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 meta #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3

[anghraine]

This is unnecessarily long, but: I was just thinking about Wickham's predation on fifteen-year-old Georgiana Darcy and then, almost exactly a year later, Wickham's predation on sixteen-year-old Lydia Bennet.

There are obvious parallels between the two incidents. In fact, they're so obvious that I think the incidents are sometimes treated as equivalent, with the consequences only differing by happenstance. I don't think that's true, personally.

There are some mechanistic sort of differences—Wickham put a lot more effort and planning into the Georgiana situation. He wanted to marry her for her money and to make her brother suffer. She had to be isolated from people who would look out for her interests, he had Mrs Younge in place, he had known Georgiana as a child and was able to exploit his own previous kindness to her as her father's godson, etc.

And Georgiana, despite all of this, and despite being swept away by a teenage infatuation with an extremely attractive man, was still uncomfortable with it. She was worried about disappointing a brother who raised her and whom she deeply loves and admires. When her brother actually showed up by surprise, she decided to tell him everything; Darcy takes pains to give her credit for this. Adaptations generally downplay Georgiana's active decision-making here, but the only element of chance is Darcy deciding to go to Ramsgate at all. He insists that he was only able to act because Georgiana chose to tell him what was going on.

This isn't meant to be an indictment of Lydia, though. Does she admire the parents who raised her? No. But why would she? Especially why would she admire a father who treats her mother and sisters and herself with profound contempt and no sense of responsibility? Why would she ever confide in him?

It's not like Lydia doesn't confide in anyone. In fact, she too confides in an older sibling, her sister Kitty. And in one sense, her trust in Kitty is not undeserved. Kitty does keep the secret. Presumably, she does this because, despite her occasional annoyance with Lydia, she is very much under her influence and goes along with whatever Lydia does. Regardless, she is trustworthy in that sense. Moreover, we see at the end of the book that Kitty is easily improved by being placed in better environments and taught how to behave. She just didn't know better.

How was she going to judge Lydia's situation correctly? Who was teaching her to judge anything correctly? Certainly not their parents.

If Mr Bennet had bothered to interest himself in his younger daughters and try and influence them for the better, impressionable Kitty is probably the one who would have benefited the most. The whole Lydia/Wickham thing would have fallen apart before it went anywhere if all the girls had been been properly raised, even if Lydia did exactly the same things.

And Lydia likely wouldn't do the same things if she'd been brought up properly and, you know, treated with a baseline of respect rather than being openly mocked by her father, the person most able to affect her development. Instead, at barely sixteen, she's been continually rejected by her father, over-indulged by her mother, and flattered by adult men (28-y-o Darcy says he and Wickham are nearly the same age). And she still tells someone what's going on, even though she doesn't care about her parents' opinions or the consequences of her actions. And she was under the protection of a colonel and his wife at the time, who also could have told someone or acted, and didn't.

It's not that nobody could have done anything about the Lydia/Wickham situation. It's that nobody did until Darcy found out and tried to extract her. But it was, in one sense, too late. To Lydia, he's just some unfun acquaintance who says boring things like "go home to your family and I'll do what I can to cover for you." That is, he tries to do what he did for Georgiana.

But Lydia is not Georgiana—she did not choose to tell him about any of this. She did not want to be extracted because she didn't know and couldn't be quickly made to understand what marriage to Wickham would mean in the long term. And she didn't care what her family thought because she had no reason to, pragmatically or psychologically.

Georgiana, otoh, did care about her family's welfare and the good opinion and affection of the head of her family. But despite their radical differences in personality, the most fundamental difference between the girls IMO is that Georgiana had every reason to believe that disappointing Darcy and losing his respect would be a change from the norm.

Normally he is affectionate and attentive towards her. They write each other long letters, he defends her to other family members, and praises her frequently. Georgiana, quiet and intimidated though she may be, talks more when he's around. Disappointing him had actual stakes for her.

Put another way, the potential loss of his good opinion mattered to her because he's gone to the trouble of raising her as well as he can and forming a good relationship with her. She chose to tell Darcy the whole thing because he had earned her affection and trust in a way that Mr Bennet has utterly failed to do. Even Darcy happening to visit Georgiana at Ramsgate comes from his affection and attention to Georgiana's welfare, even if he couldn't have known what would follow from checking on his sister at that particular moment.

Chance is always part of life, and it's part of the novel and these situations. But a lot of how these scenarios wound out was not determined by chance but by long-existing patterns in these girls' educations and relationships.

#this actually spun off from a different post about the contrast between darcy and mr bennet #they're alike in some ways but it only makes the differences all the more glaring #and i don't think we see that more than in how they conduct themselves towards the young girls in their care #and in the drastic consequences of how they educate and relate to those girls #georgiana and lydia made choices but there's a point at which harping on choice!!! and personal responsibility!! doesn't have much value #and the contributing factors and context of those choices matter so much more #anghraine babbles #long post #austen blogging #austen fanwank #georgiana darcy #lydia bennet #fitzwilliam darcy #george wickham #mr bennet #catherine bennet #some unflattering references to mrs bennet but this is more of a mr bennet hate post :)

[geopsych]

re: the tumblr ai stuff, please don’t wipe your blog!! your blog has been so important to me and many others as a place of authentic light and beauty and i would hate to lose it forever 💕

there is a way to download the contents of a tumblr blog (it’s in settings, i don’t remember rn, but i’ll find it if you need it) maybe you could upload to another site or a personal site?

i know this is very serious, and i hate how we are unwillingly contributing to synthetic art, but the world would be poorer for me without your pictures <3

Thank you. Your words mean a lot to me.

This is a dilemma for me. I have loved doing this blog and going out to look for pictures and interesting things to bring here has given me motivation and meaning through years of struggle with depression and several kinds of grief. Going out to look for pictures has put me in situations where I have seen incredible beauty, much of which I never really managed to capture. Also, the many warm and kind messages I've received from people all over the world have given me heart and made me feel less meaningless as a person and more connected. Sometimes I've been criticized for buying the checkmarks and giving money to Tumblr but I wanted to do what I could because Tumblr has been my one happy and safe place online. But now this. To me AI in relation to creativity is just a way for well-to-do but untalented people, the proverbial tech bros, to profit from other people's hard work and creativity. It has no redeeming value in relation to creativity and is actively harmful to artists of all kinds. <trying to figure out how to put a read more link here> I don't even count myself among the real creatives, artists and writers and others who have worked hard and put years into honing their crafts, into learning to translate their hearts and unique spirits into their creative expression. I just see beautiful things and take pictures of them. But it would still make me sick to see AI works based on my pictures, on these times and places that have meant so much to me. Recently I saw a set of cat 'photos' on here that everyone was reblogging and exclaiming over but that to me seemed to just be AI art that was more convincing than most. As time goes on more and more output of AI is going to be almost indistinguishable from real works and unscrupulous people will pass them off as real, getting credit for what was actually created by others. Whether they profit from them becomes almost irrelevant at that point because what's worse is that we will have less and less sense of what is real. And as some have pointed out AI will now also be scraping from AI, muddying the waters further from here on in. This is an apocalypse of sorts, an apocalypse of creativity, ultimately likely to kill the joy of artistic endeavor for many who would otherwise produced brilliant, beautiful, funny, and/or shockingly original things. I'm still parsing and dissecting my thoughts and feelings about what Tumblr has done and how to react. Staying and leaving my blog up feels like consent. I am not confident in the integrity of anyone connected with scraping sites for AI. I'm not convinced that a little toggle in settings is going to make much of a difference in the long run. On the other hand I like posting here and I have received enough messages over the years to know that my blog is a positive influence on some lives. I was looking forward to May and June and posting pictures of the incredible beauty of eastern Pennsylvania in those months. And I was planning on making a side blog for posting some poetry I've been working on. It will break my heart to leave.

I haven't decided yet. Believe it or not this whole thing has given me awful physical symptoms. I'll let you know when I decide. Thank you again for your kind and lovely note!

#ask #ai #tumblr #thank you #sigh #the whole you’ve already been assaulted so you may as well stay and be assaulted more isn’t the great argument you think it is

[lordoftherazzles]

My takeaway from the past 24+ hours...

There are so many of us that rely on ao3, whether you're a reader or writer. It brings us joy, it gives us an escape from the real world, and it lets us come together as a community to share stories and scenarios about our favorite fandoms and characters. The amount of posts I have seen on multiple platforms lamenting over the DDoS attacks is overwhelming - but with most of them comes a delightful cheer to the volunteers working to resolve this issue.

I've seen so many statements of praise for those volunteers, which is exactly what they deserve, and more. Can you imagine working for over 24 hours straight, on a volunteer basis, against something like this? They're the real MVPs, and I think our appreciation for them gets lost until moments like this rise.

With that said, here is my first real takeaway...

Don't bitch when ao3 does a donation drive. They work hard to keep the archive up and running, and with that costs money. Every server, every new addition or feature you want to see added to help make the site better, it costs money. The legal team that is defending fanfic authors??? MONEY. SO! DON'T! COMPLAIN!

I'm not saying you have to go out and donate your paycheck to ao3 - but I will say that, especially with this situation, if you can donate even a little bit to show your support, it means more than you probably realize, and even if you can't donate (which is totally okay), be kind to those who work on the archive. Send them kind words of encouragement, rather than flaming the archive because it's under attack - because yeah, I've seen people bitching AT ao3 for not working fast enough, or for it still being down. STOP IT.

My second takeaway...

Don't believe everything you see on the internet. Ao3 themselves have advised that the group claiming to take credit for this attack is to be treated with skepticism. And not only that, let's NOT automatically make assumptions about who is responsible just because of an organization's name. It's just a NAME, it doesn't identify a person's origin, background, etc. But I'm not here to dive into that much further. Point: I better not see any Sudanese hatred on my dash, or I will bite you.

My third takeaway...

Treat your fanfic writers with respect. We all now see first hand how much we depend on these stories. As I said above, for some it's an escape, a creative release, and a way to communicate with other people through similar interests. It's a beautiful creation, neither above nor below any other kind of literature.

Consider commenting, reblogging, kudos, anything you can to let the authors know you enjoyed and appreciate their works. Everyone is free to communicate in the way that suits them best, but every little bit is appreciated - as a fanfic writer myself, I can tell you that even a little heart emoji has made my day. It's like receiving a second kudos, and tells me that someone appreciated my efforts enough to give me a double thumbs up.

Any form of communication with the authors is appreciated. It lets them know that people are genuinely interested. We live in a world where INSTANT GRATIFICATION is taking over, but creations such as this take time. Talk with the authors, ask them about their wips, tell them they're doing a great job. Do NOT pester about "when are you updating next?" or the dreaded AI option - again, I will BITE PEOPLE if I see you doing this. Just...have some respect, show your appreciation, it's more than JUST FANFIC.

At the end of the day I guess this post is about being kind. Not pointing fingers or slandering people due to a name. It's about appreciating the things we do have, and not taking them for granted. Whether it's the brave cyber warriors currently fighting these DDoS attacks on the frontline, or the authors writing for not only their enjoyment, but for others too. Let's all respect one another, and show our support when and where we can.

HUGE THANK YOU TO THE VOLUNTEERS AT AO3, YOU ARE THE REAL MVPS!!!

#ao3 #archive of our own #fanfiction #razzy's rambles

[pencileraser1]

things i noticed/thoughts about most recent rewatches of dps (plus laserdisk deleted scenes):

whenever theres a group scene i've started watching the characters that the story isn't focusing on to see what they do and i've been having a fun time with that. pitts and cameron specifically seem to almost always be doing something interesting in the background.

hopkins!!!! my favorite minor character who somehow got character development despite having like 2 lines!!!! the last guy to stand on the desk but he did it!!!

sometimes i do like to think about what the rest of the students thought about the dead poets society, esp in alternate timeline neil lives dps keeps meeting universe. like yeah theres this guy in their class whose one of the most credited students in the school and we think he maybe started a cult. idk though. but that group runs out into the woods every few days to do god knows what and one of them keeps talking about "dead poets honor" whatever that means and holy shit welton star student neil perry started a cult.

i watched the movie with headphones. and maybe it's because ive seen this movie Far too many times and mabe i'm listening too hard but it was Really obvious sometimes when audio was added in post production. llke in the sweaty toothed madman scene when you can hear laughing and to be fair the camera is behind their heads. but it does Not look like anyone's laughing. my favorite is at the end of the phone call to chris scene where knox is like i'm gonna seize the day!! and runs up the stairs and the poets are cheering him on and neil is sort of yelling "carpe!!!!" and i could be wrong but i'm like 75% certain that the person singing is Also rsl so now neil is just speaking two times at once somehow. anyways it didn't ruin the experience for me or anything it was maybe just a little bit funny to notice but very sorry if this did ruin anyone's viewing.

people talk a lot about how rsl and ethan hawke really made their characters what they are but i have to add dylan kussman to that list. I get the impression that older versions of the movie didn't really give as much depth to cameron and watching dylan kussmans performance is like. he Knew who his character was so fucking well and it shows!! like the deleted scene of them getting clubs assigned. like i could tell So Much about cameron from that scene

for how little she actually appeared, there is an emphasis put on the fact that neil's mom smokes pretty frequently. and i think that's interesting considering neil is one of two poets shown actively smoking. neil's mom doesn't appear for very long in the movie but during that time it definitely seems like the movie is intentionally making parallels between the two, particularly in the last argument with neil's father. neil and his mother are both sitting for almost the whole time, which contrasts with his father who is standing. they are both almost powerless in this scene. they stand up at almost the same time. anyways there's a couple different possibilities for what this could mean? that i've though of? 1. to show that neil's mother is in a similar situation to the one neil is in in regards to neil's father and 2. maybe a stretch here but the theory that neil inherited his mental illness at least partially from his mother. i'm pretty sure 1 was fully intentional on the directors part, not entirely sure about 2 though

unmanned flying desket scene: it's probably cause he and ethan wrote the scene themselves but the way rsl talks in this scene feels more like the way he talks in general than the rest of the script. like briefly neil perry is talking in rsl's voice. one of my absolute favorite scenes though the sarcastic dialogue is so good.

the light of knowledge at the first shot of the film vs. todd standing on his desk at the last shot of the film paralel

#there was a whole additional part of this post that was about knox and charlies relationship with their parents #but it ended up being half of what i wrote here and i still had more to add so i'm making that a separate post #that should be posted in a few days i'm not a fast writer #neil perry #richard cameron #gerard pitts #todd anderson #dead poets society #dps #hopefully coherent

[angrylesbianstereotype]

Because Walter White went out of his way to be the world’s worst father figure to a grown man he had no blood ties to, I feel that we as an audience don’t always take the time to properly acknowledge that he was also pretty shitty as an actual father to his actual son. Flynn does get off easy in comparison to Jesse, but A) who doesn’t, and B) that’s only because Walt, despite all of his waxing poetic ab his love for his family, doesn’t really give Flynn the time of day, or give a shit about him beyond how his role as Walt’s son plays off of Walter’s machoistic vision of himself as a family man and provider. Jesse bears the brunt of Walter’s abuse despite Walt loving him more than Flynn because it doesn’t pay to be the favorite child of an abuser, but as invested in and obsessed with Jesse as Walter is, that’s exactly how little interest he has in cultivating a more substantive relationship with his son. Flynn isn’t a people pleaser like Jesse, but he’s still just a kid who wants his father’s love and approval, and throughout the series we see him make a number of efforts to connect with what he believes to be a benignly distant father, only to be brushed off time and time again. And it’s worth noting that he really only ever succeeds in getting his father’s full attention when Walter is weaponizing him against Skyler or feels his patriarchal status has been threatened by Hank and Flynn’s relationship. Jesse and Walt have this toxic as all fuck Freudian messiness going on that Flynn is Very Thankfully spared from, but only by virtue of not being the son his father wanted. Because Walter is an ableist pos primarily concerned with his own legacy, he has written Flynn off as his successor and subconsciously bestowed that title onto Jesse, though it should be noted that Jesse is not a successor in the traditional sense. Walter’s chauvinism demands a male heir, but his ego can’t reconcile this with letting anyone else take any credit for the building of or carrying on of his legacy, and so Jesse is forever in the process of being built up only to be torn down, never allowed to expand his horizons or leave the nest, and is kept on a very short leash. Walter’s priorities are so jacked that he prefers the legacy of having reduced someone who trusted him to a shell of their former self, of that testament to his power, than the legacy of having raised a kid who will probably go on to do a lot of good in the world, of a kid who recognizes the inherent value of virtues that have been coded as traditionally feminine by society, such as kindness and not exploding people. Ultimately, the reason Walter loves Jesse more than Flynn is because Walter’s love is a narcissist’s crayon drawing of love, always conditional, always contingent on how much that person can do for him, and how best it might serve his interests to love them.

#broke jesse and skyler team up and kill walt #woke jesse and flynn team up kill walt and then become surrogate brothers #not calling him walter jr bc you know he never went by that again #flynn white #walter jr #jesse pinkman #breaking bad #brba #anti walter white #walter white hate blog

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

It’s one in the morning let’s talk Six of Crows analysis - it feels like it’s been ages since I did any analysis, which is like the entire point of this account so sorry about that but here we go: We should talk more about Adem Bajan you guys okay because first of all he effectively comes to represent the vast majority of everyday people in a clear juxtaposition to both Inej and Van Eck, but he also is in a position of far less choice than I think we give him credit for.

As a reminder, Bajan is a young Suli boy (presumably somewhere around 19 but we have no confirmation of that) working in the Van Eck household teaching Alys music. He is highly implied to be having or to have interest in having as affair with Alys, and was Van Eck’s chosen jailer for Inej at the beginning of Crooked Kingdom. Van Eck claims he made this choice because he thought “a Suli boy would be most conspicuous” when he was attempting to lure Kaz into a trap to save Inej, but it was also an inarguably smart decision in that, as Inej even comments herself, Bajan was easy to talk to, made her feel nostalgic, homesick, and alone, and very nearly succeeded in drawing information out of her without having to restore to torture. If anything, resorting to torture was Van Eck’s major mistake at this point but that’s really a conversation for another time. Bajan is a really interesting character because he doesn’t want to hurt Inej and specifically encourages her to tell him things so Van Eck won’t escalate things further, but when Van Eck does escalate things Bajan is unable - or possibly unwilling - to stop him. For this Inej calls him a monster, and when he claims he did nothing replies “no, you’re the man who stands idly by congratulating himself whilst the monster eats its fill”. She draws a Suli phrase on him that effectively means he’ll be rejected by the community forever and his spirit/soul won’t be accepted, and she describes it as the worst fate or something along those lines sorry I can’t remember exactly. But what’s the most interesting thing is that even though he claims not to believe in any of it Bajan gets noticeably upset by this and says “that’s not fair”. Inej is surprised that he’s this soft, and there’s a very clear juxtaposition between the lives they have lived.

BUT - let’s look at this from Bajan’s perspective. And remember - this is important - Bajan is not described as an employee of Van Eck’s, but an indenture. An indenture. So Bajan is a young boy indentured in a foreign country to a man as high up in the country’s government as you can get and who has clearly been illustrated to the reader as a terrible person on several different levels that I won’t dissect in too much detail right now. He appears to have acclimatised himself to Kerch surroundings and acts with elevation above his status, because that’s what he has to do to survive in the upper echelon of a deeply classist society that actively diminishes and disapproves of his culture. (<<if anyone wants references for that let me know and also I’ve written about it quite a bit before so that’s kicking around on my page somewhere) He refuses to speak to Inej in Suli because “it makes me maudlin” and my question to you is: is he rejecting the language to further attempt to fit in and as a product of internalised prejudice, or because it’s so incredibly painful to be half-connected to a culture not only that he has forced himself to reject but also that he feels he can never safely return to? Probably both. He tells Inej he doesn’t believe in Suli superstition, religion, or culture, and yet is deeply upset when she uses it against him. Is this because he actually does believe, or wants to believe, in the Saints and the Suli interpretation of them but has rejected them for survival and the supposed betterment of himself? Possibly.

Bajan strikes me as very similar to Jesper in the way he presents himself as free, flirty, and casual, but had a considerable weight to almost everything he says and considerable pain hidden closer to the surface than he may have realised. I think there are parallels between him and Inej if we want to see them, but also a very stark difference in the way Kerch and Ketterdam have treated them. Bajan may not be privileged but even as an indenture he has - or at least as far as we know has had - a far safer and kinder experience than Inej has. This could be related to gender since the hyper-sexualisation of Suli culture is mostly centred on women - “the Menagerie always stocked a Suli girl” (I’ve intensely analysis this quote before so I won’t now but ugh there’s so much to say) - but we do know there are young boys captive at the pleasure houses as well although less commonly and it’s also possible that this difference is linked to Bajan’s decision to turn his back on Suli culture in order to appeal more to Kerch society whilst Inej continually embraced her culture and arguably became more religious in response to her experiences.

This is complicated because I’m not entirely sure how I feel about Bajan. I understand and support Inej’s perspective and everything she saw whilst in a far more dangerous position that he was, but is it possible that this was a lonely boy who saw someone he thought was like him and tried to communicate with her the only way he thought was safe? You are completely isolated in a foreign culture and hate yourself for having suppressed your own upbringing in order to survive, but now you meet someone else who yes, is in more danger than you, but who you might be able to help so that she can help you in return. You aren’t safe to speak freely and so you subtly tell her that you are an indenture, hoping she acknowledges that none of this is of your free will and because you know that she was indentured too (and remember from a societal pov there is very little understanding of what indentured girls at the pleasure houses actually go through and although that doesn’t excuse ignoring Inej’s trauma it may explain why he doesn’t fully acknowledge that their positions aren’t equal), you tell her that speaking your own shared language makes you feel maudlin, hoping she realises that you desperately miss your homeland and using your language makes you feel even further from your family than you already are because you can’t share it with them. She doesn’t seem to be taking any of it in, your employer has every intention of hurting her and you don’t know what else to do, so you make a last plea: you ask her about home. You think you’ve already made it clear that speaking about home is painful, so you ask her about it to invite that pain, to share it, so you both understand. But it fails, because she only sees your employer puppeteering you. You openly beg her to tell him the truth so that he won’t hurt her but she refuses to comply, and after all of your efforts and your desperate attempts to connect and beg her to help you both go home, her response is to turn your home against you and banish you from it for eternity. So when you see her the next morning, how could you possibly look her in the eye?

Bajan did not make all of the right choices in his brief time on the page. He didn’t. But maybe he was trying really hard, and he had no other options left.

Anyway I’m not saying this is definitive one way or the other it’s just an interpretation but I find him a very interesting and very sad character and I although I support all of Inej’s actions in these scenes from her point of view I do find myself wondering how she appeared to Bajan and how he felt in the aftermath.

#I’m at it again with the hyper analysis of minor characters #I’m so tired and I may have made mistakes in this or misremembered stuff or something idk but sorry if I did #grishaverse #six of crows #crooked kingdom #leigh bardugo #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #nina zenik #wylan van eck #matthias helvar #adem bajan #bajan #kanej #Wesper #helnik #six of crows meta #six of crows analysis #crooked kingdom meta #crooked kingdom analysis #grishaverse analysis #soc analyst #soc analysis #save shadow and bone #save six of crows #Soc #soc inej

[stickyspeckledlight]

Despite Everything, You Still Exist [Yan!Aventurine x Reader]

The short moments when the world remembers you. Hypothetical HSR voice lines based on Sunrise, Sunset, My Destroyed Body In the Onset. Can be read as standalone, though.

Notes: Lol I had some thoughts and doing this right now will mitigate my uncontrollable hype for when 2.1 is out later tonight. (From the future: lol 2.1 is out now ahaha)

Ao3

The air rings with the sound of cranking slots, spinning roulette, fallen chips, and spilled cards. Some visit for reasons outside the sound; the bar's happy hour, a good meal at the buffet, and the venue where musicians of middling to great renown play. They merely chatter amongst themselves, occasionally sparing a look to the many games at play, perhaps spending a few credits if they want to test their luck. But the ones of note are always the ones playing the game. For some, the sound of a shuffling deck of cards is as familiar as the back of their hand, and they cannot stand to be away from it for more than a day lest they live with the emptiness of their soul. Some have already accomplished much, do not know what they want anymore, and are just here to pass the time. Some are fools, believing they can strike a fortune and climb to the heavens. They feel the most, celebrating triumph and wallowing in despair alike.

But those who stand out most are those who decide to test their luck knowing of destiny's inherent unjustness.

Chat: Limits

"Most people do all they can to live within their limits. Whether it be maintaining their mundane routine, keeping to themselves, or turning away from things that pose too much risk to them. When most reach their limit, they tend to completely shut down, and give up—they dread that risk. What most people don’t realize though is that in breaking limits, you go beyond them. My friend, if you ever see someone reach their limit...pushing them past it will yield something truly special or, if you’re lucky, a destructive yet breathtaking beauty."

Chat: Lovely Things

“What do I like? Trying to gauge my weaknesses now are we? …oh? You just want to get me something out of the sheer goodness of your heart? Aw, you’re too sweet; my friend, we’ve already established such a great bond, you and I, so there is no need to exchange gifts between us! And, gift giving always does bring about jealousy; you wouldn’t want to incite that, would you? Besides, I doubt you could gift me anything lovelier than I already have.

Chat: Change

“Change is a wonderful thing! It keeps things from getting stale and predictable and is the prime ingredient for anything unexpected. Change doesn’t necessarily mean massive shifts like how most people envision, and I wholeheartedly believe one’s own self can remain consistent even with change. Speaking of changes to one’s self…heh, no matter how happy they may be as and with their changed self, a part of them will always mourn the person they used to be…even if the person of old runs counter to their changed self. Hm? A distant look in my eye? Nonsense, my friend! Just think of this as some helpful advice, free of charge. I do hope you’ll be able to put it to practice—I think we’d both hate if I were disappointed, after all.”

Casinos are ultimately reprieve, but eventually, one must return to their obligations. One can’t gamble without money, and money must be made from working. Work comes in many different forms—some work aims to increase other’s gains, some to increase its own, others to retrieve the money which is owed. These individuals are not so hard to find at the casino—like moths to a flame they aim to win with the wealth accrued by another, only to find themselves stripped of it unwittingly. It is easy to rig the game when the opponent believes they are the master. Chat: Interesting People

“My work takes me all over the place, so I get a lot of opportunities to meet all sorts of people! Granted, it’s my work that also causes a lot of meetings to not be on especially amicable terms too. And some of the people I have to deal with are…well, there’s a reason I keep a pistol with me. The best meetings though are when you’re off the clock and free to just wander about! Souvenir shopping, trying out local cuisines and experiencing its culture can be pretty nice, and it’s when me and Numby are just out and about where we meet many. I’m sure you Astral Expressers can relate to that. But, as with all things, some particularly stand out even when you don’t expect. Like, a little while ago, I finally finished a project—a big one that had some of us Stonehearts coming together—and I met this rather pleasant individual. Nice, polite, and their sense of humor wasn’t half bad; even gave me some pastries they made! A short but sweet conversation. But…there was just something…off, about them. My instincts are pretty good when it comes to these sort of things; it’s like…they were keeping themselves at a weird distance. Even though I deal with that a ton during negotiations, this time it just felt odd in a particular way, yet quite uncomfortably familiar. But it was after we said our goodbyes and I saw them again. I don’t know what happened, but then I saw the expression on their face, and…I know what that odd feeling is now. Maybe I should reach out, that guy isn’t exactly…o-oh, sorry! I got a little carried away, didn’t I? And I did sort of lead you on with starting things so lightheartedly…here, why don’t I make it up to you? A few Aetherium Wars booster packs, maybe?”

How do people lose money like this, though? Many go into the casino with the belief it is fair and just, not understanding just how rigged the game is. “Shed any and all illusions of outwitting the system,” one is told, left with nothing when they could not draw an ace of spades.

They are here because for many reasons: circumstance, unfortunate luck and their own hubris. And in that last reason lies the penultimate behind their misfortune: ignorance.

Chat: Willful Ignorance

“Ignorance is a horrid malady, but like all forms of malaise there are multiple variations. The most common is unwillful—what most think of when thinking of ignorance. Cures differ from individual to individual of course, but they tend to be the most simple affair; simple pedagogy does wonders in establishing a baseline knowledge, and for matters of great specificity or those already with baseline knowledge, a few thorough lectures are the ultimate vaccine. Willful ignorance, however, is a much different matter. Its cause is not rooted in the absence of knowledge, but of cognitive dissonance—you find it especially amongst those who have aged, already set in their ways and unwilling to engage with anything to broaden their horizons. For this, treatment must be thorough and harsh; it cannot be absolved without stripping down a patient’s worldview, lens, and grip of reality. But this is not the most vexing form. The hardest ignorance to cure is the one taken on fully aware, knowing it is false and knowing of its folly but nevertheless live by it; you look confused, so I’ll put it in simpler terms: a patient who isn’t ignorant, far from it even, but still lives their life as if they were. Curing this places patients in a rather volatile state. This ignorance is often the patient’s way of coping with a situation, when they’ve exhausted all other forms of protection. …But, I am a scholar. Advancements are not made by talking, it is through action, and eventually, I will be the one to make it. …I simply hope I can make it in time.”

But nothing lasts forever. The patrons return home, drunk or penniless, and the sound drowns out. Staff emerge from their shadows and silently do their part in crafting the honey trap, but even they must leave, and the lights are shut.

#yandere #yandere hsr #yandere aventurine #Topaz #Dr Ratio #hsr dr ratio #dr veritas ratio #veritas ratio #dr ratio hsr #hsr aventurine #hsr topaz #topaz hsr #honkai star rail #Destroyed Onset #Yandere aventurine x reader