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#she's much smarter than she's given credit for
dogroseberry · 1 year
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Sunny may be ditzy, giddy, and even childish, but she is not that naive. She is emotionally intelligent, observant, and picks up on Blister's manipulative nature immediately.
The fact even someone as friendly and open as Sunny gets so cold and stubborn over distrusting someone suggests she sees through Blister even more.
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She is not amused.
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lowkeychenle · 5 days
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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
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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.
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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.
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“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.
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“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.”
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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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.”
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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.”
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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.
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libertyybellls · 3 months
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BELIEVE ME NOW ?
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pairing; mentor!finnick odair x reader
summary: finnick odair, to love you- to protect you, battles it out with tough love that you can’t quite see.
contains; ENEMIES TO LOVERS, fluff/tad bit of angst, finnick nearly breaking readers door down, ONE singular kiss is shared 😇, unspoken feelings, death/typical hunger games violence, comfort.
☾⋆。𖦹 °✩
you didn’t know why you hated finnick odair, but you know when it started. you knew it the minute he was assigned you mentor, the minute he put on an act and thought of himself to be better than you, and the second that he wouldn’t give you any reasonable advice before your games.
it was only when you’d won your games, did finnick finally feel for you, it ate him up inside- guilt, fear, shame, it all sickened him.
he sought death in his games, not of the other kids- but himself. but when you’re forced into that arena- when someone stronger, faster, smarter than you starts running towards you- desperate to hear that cannon sound, you fight. and he hated everything about how he fought- only to end up a possession to the republic, a slave to his own mind.
so when he saw you, wide eyed- sitting on that train- scared, unsuspecting, unprepared- he saw himself. he saw that fourteen year old boy stripped from his home, to end the game with blood on his hands.
you were older than he was then, but it didn’t matter if he was nineteen, thirty, even eighty- he’d give anything to have been lucky enough to die in that arena.
you’d arrived from your games a few days ago, only having seen mags. mags who had helped you before your games, signing to you how to find food and water, how to not get sick or hypothermic, die of heatstroke. mags, who brushed your hair after your first shower when all you wanted to do was curl in a ball and disappear, who sent you off to rest knowing if she hadn’t given you medicine you’d stay up- stuck in your head.
being in that hotel after your games was like a ghost town. all the other mentors and stylist sent home- only your own had been there. all the other kids were gone- quite frankly dead. the room next to yours vacant- your district partner, a boy you’d gotten to know quite well- someone you’d even call a friend, dead. just you left.
you’d just finished your interview, faking a smile, plastering on a look of faux happiness- preaching about how grateful you were to have made it out. dressed so extravagantly, so see-through, so indecent, your makeup so dissimilar to you- you couldn’t even recognize yourself.
you’d been rushing back to your room- rushing to hide away until you’d once more get back on the train and give a ‘victory’ tour.
finnick had been waiting for you, he had so many things he needed to say, to tell you- no, warn you about.
but as you strided towards him from the elevator, and let out a sharp; “what? here to take the credit from all the advice you gave me?” and slammed your door without batting an eye- the words were lost in his throat.
he started with knocking, simply calling your name, “can i please just speak to you?” then the knocks got harder, less distance in time between each one, then he was pounded on the white door incessantly. “y/n, open this door.”
your head was pounding, and you could care less for what glorious speech he was going to spew at you, “i don’t want your fucking pity story, finnick.” you tell back from the other side of the door- at this he pushes, and pushes the door until the lock gives.
when he sees you, your sitting on the edge of your bed- your heads in your hands, the lamp beside you is dim.
“what? what’s so important you had to force yourself into my room? do you think anything you say is going to change how you left me? you left me to die.” you were glaring at him. with so much hate behind your eyes he couldn’t take it anymore.
you thought you’d been nothing but kind to him, respectful, even after he’d won his games you still treated him normally once he’d gone back to district four- worst of all, you thought you deserved some type of help from him. but all you ended up being was dirt on his shoe?
“i was trying to protect you-“
you laugh incredulously at this, “trying to protect me? no, finnick. you wanted to protect malik-“ you waved your hand in the direction of the very empty, lifeless room of your district partner, “and look where your ‘help’ got him.”
“i mean, you made no effort to do so much as look my way, and now you want to talk? you’re of no use to me now. i already got through the worst of it- without you.” you continued rambling as you took of your necklace, your rings, your bracelets.
“trust me y/n you’ll realize victory isn’t the better option. so if you’d just fucking-“ he sighed, running his hand over his face and looking down. “if you’d just listen to me- you’ll see i’m trying to be your friend- to help you for what’s coming next.”
there’s a few beats of silence as he waits for your response, it’s deafening- you’ve completely paused in your action of taking out your earrings. “my friend?” you laugh, hair falling over your shoulders. “i don’t really like you, finnick.”
this perplexes finnick, shaking his head. “and i don’t really believe you, y/n.” he takes a step closer, breaking your imaginary bubble. “you know you were the only person who didn’t hover around me in our town after my games? the only person who never looked up to me? like i was this spectacle? waiting to see my next move?”
you take one step closer to him now, you can smell him- it’s of salt air and expensive cologne- and it’s unbearable. there’s heat emitting from his body.
“that’s called caring, finnick.” you look into his eyes now, for the first time. “and i’d only wish you’d have that same respect for me.”
there’s something he can’t understand about you, you’re constantly trying to fight back- you won’t admit defeat or accept help- just continuing your fight for survival. but he prays you know you don’t have to fight him, he only wants to help you.
“why do you think i’m here?” his eyes are pulling you in, his smell is suffocating you. it’s all a paradox. “you think im here to torment you further, y/n?”
truth be told, you don’t know why he’s here. you don’t know why he’s caring so much. but you’re here, standing inches away from him in your hotel room and admiring him- for reasons you can’t quite explain.
“snows going to do everything he can to make you feel small. he’s going to make you the capitols dream girl. he’s going to objectify you, and show you off like you’re a prize.” he takes a breath, you’re driven to further confusion- why does it look like this is hurting him too? “and you can’t fight it, because it will only have him sway more control over you. only more pain for you. and i won’t have that y/n.”
finnicks closer to you now, “i won’t-i cant have him take more of you.” from me, he wants to say, he wants to tell you that all he’s tried to do from the moment he met you as a boy, is protect you.
there it is again, that glint in his eyes- the utter, pure concern and passion, and you can’t take it. “don’t do that. don’t look at me like you care about me.”
finnicks face is not even an inch away from yours now, you can see the birthmarks on his neck- the freckles the sun has blessed him with that are so faint you wouldn’t have seen them before.
“i do.” he says like it’s the last words he’ll ever say. the air has left both of your lungs.
you keep this eye contact with him, like he can see your heart, and like you’re trying to read his mind. “i don’t believe you.” you mock his words from earlier.
he angles his head at these words, moving closer so your lips are touching-and your eyes flutter shut- but he hasn’t kissed you, not yet.
“i want to protect you until i can’t anymore. until im gone.” he doesn’t let you speak now, his lips stealing your words when they crash into yours. the movement is natural, fluid, soft.
he expects you to pull away, shove him off of you, tell him that you hate him- but you deepen the kiss much to his surprise.
you kiss him, pull him impossibly close to you until you can’t anymore- until your lungs now beg for oxygen- but all you want to do is breath him in. you pull away, and your eyes open, nearly in shock, but more in amusement.
“believe me now?”
-
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gojhoes · 2 months
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Bleed Me Dry
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*art from nerdreamer | *divider from benkeibearnever written anything like this before but yolo (also this art is PHENOMENAL)
- contents: sfw, college au, no jujutsu sorcerers/cursed spirits au, jumping on the vampire au train, gojo x reader (ofc), fem!reader, characters in their early 20s, mutual pining - warnings: stalking, bodily fluids, drugs and alcohol. - wc: ~4.3k
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Have you ever met someone and felt that you knew them in the past life?
You'd never much cared for religion, nor did you think much about the possibility of an afterlife. There were too many denominations for a single one to be correct. Not at all worth the millennia of wars waged in the name of someone's God. How was a god supposed to be benevolent and holy when they inspire such violence? Yes, you were a cynic through and through, remaining skeptical of all things damned and divine.
But then you met Satoru Gojo, and all that stubborn disbelief fell to pieces.
It was the weekend before the beginning of your final year of college. You'd been dragged along to some party being thrown by a friend-of-a-friend's-friend to kick off the start of the semester. Shoko, your roommate and impromptu best friend, was crushing hard on one of the boys in some club of hers, and she'd asked you to join her as moral support.
Just like the venue, the party itself was nothing special. In someone's parents' house that was already well on its way to being trashed, the room smelled of marijuana and faintly of unpleasantly scented air freshener. You recognized a few people, as the university that you attended was a rather small private technical school. Everybody seemed to know everybody even if you considered yourself an introvert.
You and Shoko found yourselves sitting around a card table with several others amid a very serious drinking game. Shoko was trying her best, but the poor girl was already three shots in while you sat back and observed.
"Aren't you going to talk to him?" you encouraged, following Shoko's line of sight until it landed on a tall blonde leaning against the wall. He was good-looking with his broad shoulders and neatly groomed hair that complemented the glasses hanging from the bridge of his nose. You could easily see why Shoko was interested in him.
"He's tall," you commented.
Shoko was beaming, her eyes practically heart-shaped while she talked about him. "He goes by Nanami- we were in the same research group last semester. And he plays rugby."
Shoko was a Microbio major carving her path to medical school. If this mystery classmate took the same courses as her, then he must've been smarter than you'd originally given him credit for.
You grinned mischievously. “Go,” you said.
She gaped at you, her brown eyes wide with fear. “I can’t!”
You pushed her bodily with your hand on her back, urging her to go to talk to this Nanami. She stumbled a bit, already tipsy, and shot you a glare.
“Go," you insisted. "I'm going to find food.”
Ignoring Shoko's frustrated groan, you trickled over to the kitchen adjacent to the living room. You couldn't deny that you were bored, but leaving simply was not an option with how obsessed Shoko was with this guy. The kitchen was void of people, but someone had mercifully left out a fruit tray that appeared untouched in comparison to the picked-over coolers of beer. Working as a bartender had diminished your cravings for the stuff, so you avoided it wholly.
Just as you turned to re-enter the living room, you slammed right into something solid, a person, and let out a yelp. Your plate fell to the ground, the carefully chosen grapes bouncing in a thousand different directions. To your dismay, a good portion of them rolled underneath the fridge, out of reach and surely to rot later.
"Shit- I'm so sorry!" you cried, ducking down to immediately retrieve your fallen mess.
The victim of your attack kneeled beside you to help, which was a kind gesture, but it only helped to embarrass you further. You glanced up to apologize again, silently regretting every choice you'd made in your life thus far.
"You didn't have to-"
But the words stopped dead in your throat. Your victim was beautiful, breathtakingly so. Crystalline blue eyes that met yours, snow white hair brushing just above matching eyebrows. Ivory skin and pink lips that looked so soft and perfect it made your mouth go dry.
And then he smiled. "It's okay- I move quietly." He dropped a grape onto the half-crushed plate in your hand while you forced yourself to rise back to your full height. He followed suit, towering over you so much that you had to tilt your head to view his face.
But it wasn’t just his striking features that threw you so much- it was the familiarity, the nostalgia that flowed through you when you properly looked at him. In the moments that followed, you were able only to stare while you tried to recall just where you'd seen him before.
"Oh," he said, plucking the plate from your grasp. He turned and reached behind him to toss it into the trash with ease. His periwinkle button-up stretched across the expanse of his shoulders as he did so. You made yourself look away.
"Um," you cleared your throat. "Thanks."
He chuckled at that and extended his hand for you to shake. You couldn’t help but to notice the delicate nature of his long, pale fingers, reminding you much of a pianist’s. Your hands connected in the briefest handshake you’d ever participated in. His touch was cold, so much so that you couldn’t help but to jerk your hand away when the skin made contact.
Your eyes flicked up to his, illuminated blue in the dim light of the kitchen. You blinked as he held your gaze steadily, unable to shake that feeling that you’d seen him before. You were aware that you were staring at this point, but you were determined to recall this man's identity.
"Satoru," he said greeting. Not familiar, you thought.
You relayed your own name before asking, "Do I know you?"
Satoru tilted his head to the side, smirking as though he was in on some joke that you wouldn’t get. “I never forget a face, and I certainly wouldn’t forget yours.”
Even though the comment made you blush, you hummed. “Smooth. But seriously, weren't you in Dr. Kusakabe's organic chem class, like, last spring?"
"I can assure you that I have never seen you before," Satoru insisted. "Are you sure you just haven't been drinking too much?"
You scoffed at the accusation, a small smile tugging at your lips from his teasing. "No, I haven't been drinking, thank you very much. Somebody's got to keep my friend alive."
You glanced back at the fruit tray and immediately thought of those stupid grapes. "Do you see a broom anywhere?"
"I'm afraid those poor grapes are forever lost," Satoru said mournfully.
You let out a melodramatic sigh, smiling a little when you met his gaze once more.
His lashes fluttered, and then you saw him stiffen as though something suddenly pained him. Small, clammy hands landed on your bare shoulders, and you started, though you knew exactly who the offender was.
“Why are you hiding from me?” Shoko whined, her words slurring.
You pried her hands from your shoulders and peered down at her. She was swaying a little and the smell of liquor on her breath was all but apparent. You suddenly remembered your forgotten promise that you’d stick with her throughout the night, feeling a little guilty at the pouty expression on her face.
“Sorry, Shoko,” you said. “I was just looking for a snack.”
Shoko noticed Satoru then, who had taken a full step away while his fingers fluttered wildly by his side. So peculiar, you thought.
"Oh-" she hiccupped. "Hiii. I didn't see that she was talking to you."
Satoru didn’t reach out to shake her hand, you noticed, opting only to nod his head in greeting as he smiled in a way that didn't quite reach his eyes.
“No trouble,” he said fluidly. He then fixated his gaze back to yours, “If you’ll excuse me.”
He stepped out of the kitchen, and at least Shoko waited until he'd walked away to ask, "who was that?"
You shook your head as you watched him disappear into the throng of people scattered about the living room, stopping only when his white locks were no longer visible.
"Satoru."
The next week was spent with thoughts of Satoru scratching at the back of your head. During study breaks, you’d rack your brain trying to figure out where the fuck you knew him from. You were sure that you’d met him in the past; maybe he had been an elementary classmate? Maybe he worked at one of the local grocery stores or the café down the street? The possibilities were endless, but still, the mental search persisted. He even appeared in your dream the very night of the party, standing tall and fair with his back toward you.
Friday night was arguably the busiest at the bar. It was a flurry of drink orders, checking IDs, and straining to hear customers over the cacophony of voices. But you preferred the busy evening shifts– the bustle made the time fly. And it occupied your mind in a way that kept you from thinking about everything else, at least temporarily.
But after the last call for alcohol, a lull finally fell into place, and you began with your housekeeping tasks. Small things such as wiping down the bar and prepping garnishes and the like. Mentally, you’d already clocked out and were at home watching the new episode of your favorite anime. You were distracted, not all the way present, and you had your back to the bar. That’s why you were startled when you turned around to see that Satoru had materialized on the other side.
You flinched and your eyes went wide as your hand flew to your chest as if to steady yourself. “Oh sh– hey, it’s you! You scared me.”
Satoru raised his hands and grinned wickedly. “Boo.”
Never mind that he hadn’t been anywhere near the bar in the five seconds it’d taken you to do a 360. But your heart rate returned to normal, and you drank in his appearance. Still gorgeous, even in the bar’s poor lighting. He wore a collarless black sweater with sleeves that were too long even for him, and a pair of gray slacks. The neutral tones made his blue eyes appear even brighter, seeming almost to glow.
“Aren’t you going to order something?” you asked teasingly. “It’s past last call, but I’m sure I can make an exception.”
Satoru purred, maintaining that wicked smile from before. “You’re too kind to me.”
“Please, I insist.” You cupped your hands around your mouth and leaned over the bar so that your fingers just barely were brushing the shell of his ear.
“It’s on the house,” you faux-whispered, trying to ignore the way his hair tickled your skin for the briefest of moments before you pulled away.
He swallowed, the first sign of hesitation you’d seen since meeting him. Not that you knew him well, but he otherwise moved so confidently and with such intention that the gesture seemed out of place on him.
“I’m afraid I don’t drink.”
“I can make you something virgin,” you urged, wiggling your eyebrows. You were being unnecessarily insistent, pushing a little hard, but you felt this inexplicable urge to impress him. To serve him...? It was your job, after all, to make drinks that people would enjoy.
And then he replied, his voice firm but not unkind, “I have to decline, but I deeply appreciate your offer.”
You sighed and made a point of overdramatizing your disappointment. “Some other time, then. I’ll get you something good to drink, just you wait.”
An unnamable expression flashed over his features, quickly replaced by another disarming smile. You weren’t sure if it was the dim lighting of the bar, but his pallor seemed more translucent than before, the color blending in with his pale hair. His eyes were nearly glowing, nearly burning and you found yourself trying to differentiate all the shades of blue within his irises before he cleared his throat, and you realized you had been staring.
“Sorry,” you said quickly, cursing the blush that crept high on your cheeks. “I just.. I swear that I’ve seen you before somewhere. It’s kind of driving me crazy.”
Satoru tilted his head in question, a mannerism of his that you’d picked up on. “Is that right?”
Okay, you were definitely into this guy, no doubt about it. How could you not be? He was insanely, unfairly attractive, and though you’d just met (SUPPOSEDLY), you couldn’t help but to feel that you were connected to him in some way. That was a scary thought, one you shoved down before it could fester along with your other delusions.
The bar where you worked was close to campus and being part of a chain, its main demographic for business was students. It was a simple coincidence for Satoru to be there. Maybe that’s where you knew him from- it wasn’t a total impossibility; you'd served thousands of people since starting there.
“When are you off?”
You glanced down at the small watch face adorning your wrist, pretending to squint as anxiety slithered into your gut. Guys had asked you that same question in the past after mistaking good bartending for flirting. Satoru was charming, but he was still a stranger, and it was already well past 2am. But something about him pulled trust out of you like it was nothing. Like he was luring you in, a moth drawn to a flame.
“30 minutes,” you replied truthfully. “Maybe longer, depending on the crowd.”
"I want to take you to a cafe down the street," he said. "It's open all night, and I'm sure you must be starving after such a long shift."
Your stomach tattled on you before you got the chance to respond, growling loudly at the prospect of eating- you'd neglected to do so before coming in almost eight hours ago.
“I couldn't impose-”
He smiled at you as your words trailed off, and that voice in your head telling you to be careful was far too distant as you felt your resolve falter. “I insist.”
So at exactly three o'clock, standing with his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the wall was Satoru. He lifted his head when he heard the door open, smiling once he realized that it was you. You'd be a fool to deny how pretty he was when he looked at you like that.
“Shall we?” you said once you were standing at his side.
“Of course. It’s only a block or two.”
You turned to your right, moving to take the first step of many, when a large hand wrapped itself around your wrist. It couldn't have been colder than 60 degrees Fahrenheit, but even through your sleeve, you could feel the frigid cold of his fingers. You gasped at the sudden touch, flicking your eyes up to his, which were likely wide with alarm.
“Ah, ah,” Satoru said, releasing you from his grasp. “This way.”
You tried not to let show how freaked out that made you, blaming it on how quickly he’d moved to stop you. But he carried on nonchalantly as though it was something he did with everyone- perhaps, he did, if you thought about it. You focused only on following him dutifully and nothing else as he led the way.
"Do you always work nights?" he asked, breaking through the buzz of your overthinking.
You nodded, grateful for him breaking the silence. "My roommate says I'm crazy, but I prefer it. I take classes in the evenings, too, so I'm usually sleeping during the day."
Satoru held the door for you, gesturing widely as you passed over the threshold. You plucked a menu from the pocket by the door, vaguely recognizing the restaurant's logo; it was a simplified portrait of a dryad.
“Oh!” you exclaimed. “I feel like I’ve been here before. Maybe in high school…”
Satoru chuckled. “It’s only been open for about a year. Maybe you should get those false memories checked out.”
"Ha-ha."
You could feel his eyes on the back of your head like two pinpricks of ultraviolet light as you escorted yourself to an open table. He slid gracefully into the booth across from you, folding his legs in a way that couldn't be comfortable under the too-short table. You laid the menu flat as you peered over it.
"What's good here?" you asked.
Swiftly, he replied, "Everything. Plus, you can never go wrong with chicken tenders."
"This is true."
You decided on a ham and Emmental baguette and a glass of cherry juice -they actually had it!-, opting to keep it simple. You noticed that Satoru hadn't grabbed a menu himself, but thought better than to comment on it. Besides, who were you to pry into the specifics of someone else's eating habits?
You slipped the straw dipped in your drink between two fingers, toying with it nervously. "So, what year are you?"
"Ah, I just graduated," Satoru replied, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "And you're a senior, right?"
Your eyebrows knit together as you tilted your head to the side just slightly. "How'd you know?"
Satoru didn't miss a beat. "You had that look about you at the party. And since you're old enough to bartend, I filled in the blanks."
When he put it that way, the logic seemed sound enough for you to safely dismiss it without a second thought.
"Quite the sleuth, are you?" you teased.
Satoru chuckled breathily. Before either of you could ask any more questions, your food magically appeared before you. Neither of you had indicated that this was a date, but you still wanted to at least try and appear well-mannered, so you ignored the urge to fall upon the sandwich.
"Are you sure you don't want some?" you asked, holding the half out to him.
Satoru raised a hand. "No, thank you, I ate not too long ago. Please, go on."
"I just feel bad."
But you figured it would be more rude to continue pestering him, so you decided just to suck it up and eat. You were starving anyway. You sunk your teeth into the sandwich, but you misjudged the force necessary to bite through the thick bread. Sharp pain lanced through your tongue and a familiar tanginess flooded your mouth.
"Fuck," you muttered. "Bit my tongue."
As politely as you could, you brought a napkin to your mouth and spit into it before folding it neatly to hide the blood. “Sorry.”
Satoru's eyes had grown wide as he stared down at the napkin. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and you suddenly grew more embarrassed. Had you really grossed him out that much? It was just a little blood and it wasn't exactly a Michelin star restaurant.
But as though you imagined it, that discomfort morphed into a smile so radiant you forgot he'd been unsettled in the first place. The bleeding stopped, thankfully, and you slowly but steadily made your way through the sandwich. While you ate, you and Satoru passed questions and answers back and forth like a badminton game.
He'd declined your offer to make him a drink and was refusing to eat anything now, but you thought little of it until you watched as he took the smallest sip from his glass of water. He made a face as though it tasted utterly foul. It was city water, after all, but he looked physically unwell after setting the glass back on the table.
“Are you okay?” you asked. “You look a little pale.”
He shook his head, making the stands of his white hair bounce comically. “Just tired. I didn’t expect to be out so late.”
You couldn’t deny the little stab of disappointment that shot through you, though your watch did read a quarter-to-four. Sure, you were off tomorrow, but that didn't mean that Satoru wasn't.
“Oh,” you said. “Well, I’m ready anytime, then.”
The second you place your dishes at the end of the table, Satoru sprung out of his spot in the booth and started for the door. His height must've been the reason he moved so fast, and you had to scramble out of the booth and run to catch up with him. You grabbed your coat from the rack and shrugged it on before following him through the door.
You turned to look at Satoru to somehow gauge the state of his wellbeing, only to catch him staring at you with stormy eyes and parted lips. Weren't you going to ask him something? But then he blinked away the intensity you'd seen, a placid expression replacing it instantly.
“One second," Satoru quickly added. “Wait here.”
He bolted back inside like a bullet from a gun, furiously jangling the bunch of bells that hung above the inside of the door. So, you waited, poking your head through the window to see just what he was doing. He was standing over the table where you'd both been seated just a minute before, but you couldn't see much more than that. He must've forgotten something, or maybe he just wanted to give his compliments to the chef- or something.
"Forgot my wallet," he said in explanation once he'd joined you at your spot by the curb. You nodded as he confirmed your first theory.
Satoru had both of his hands shoved into his pockets precariously as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. It seemed childish at first, but that quickly turned to endearment when you realized that he was nervous. "Would you want to do this again sometime?"
You smiled at him, touched by how sweetly he'd worded the question. You reached out to touch him in some way so he knew your next words were sincere, but he stood in a way that would've made it painfully awkward to do so, so you let your arm fall limp at your side.
"If you ever want to grab a bite, I'll be awake." you answered before the two of you parted ways for good.
All you knew was that you wanted to see him again, wanted to see this strange man you'd met by chance and break past his walls and excessive smiles. And you wanted him to tell you where you'd seen him before- maybe you were delusional, but you had an inkling that he knew exactly what you'd been talking about.
What you didn't know was that Satoru had followed you for the entirety of your walk home, slipping in and out of the shadows as he debated whether to reach for you. Sitting across from you in the booth had been torturous, especially once you'd bitten your tongue. The napkin that now sat in his pocket seemed to burn a hole straight through to the bone. Any of your blood would have long since dried, but it was yours, and for now, it would have to do.
His hand hovered over the doorknob- hadn't anyone taught you to always lock your door? He heard you shuffling around inside, the clinking of drinking glasses and silverware being put away. The mundanity of you tidying your kitchen was a slap in his face. You were still living, still warm-bodied and radiant. Not cursed, as he was, with a full life ahead of you that would end peacefully. There would come a day when you would close your eyes and they would not again open. It would be completely and utterly selfish of him to do something as stupid as tampering with something as precious as your life.
But the urge persisted, as it had for months, inspiring the most selfish ideals he’d ever before been plagued with. And that selfishness was what made him believe that he truly was a monster deserving of his fate. That selfishness made him into who he was.
If he'd never seen you that night just a few short months before, he would've long since left this forsaken city. He wouldn't be trapped here by the longing he felt for you. He wouldn't be such a damned mess, going to parties and putting himself directly into situations he should be avoiding at all costs. All the lies and the hiding started to add up after a while; soon he’d be so deeply intwined in a wreck of a story that would be too much to keep up with. He’d slip up eventually; he always did.
The party had been the absolute last straw. Suguru had advised him not to go, but Satoru was a social creature, and he still enjoyed bantering and foolishness as he had during his waking life. And as was commonplace as of late, anywhere you went, so would Satoru, because that's just the type he was.
He had not planned on getting as close as he did though. Quite literally, you’d been on top of him even if it was for only a second. But it had been enough to break through the delicate semblance of control he’d had hanging by a thread. The sheer pleasure he got from your scent alone was something he’d learned he needed; it was more than a want. Even now, the bits of you he could pick up on through the door had some kind of trancelike effect on him.
But as Satoru turned his back to your apartment, fists clenched by his sides from the sheer amount of effort it took, he admitted to himself that Suguru had been right. He shouldn't have gone, because it sealed the fact that his every moment would be consumed by thoughts of you.
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Confession: I ship Shoko and Nanami SO HARD. They're both water signs, too. I love symbolism and foreshadowing more than anything else in this world.
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torukmaktoskxawng · 10 months
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can u make a enemies to lovers with neteyam or jake? x fem!reader? xx!!
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(Gifs not mine)
Pairing: Jake Sully/fem!reader
Summary: Y/n doesn't like being outranked by Corporal Jake Sully, and Jake doesn't like Corporal Y/n's attitude. This rivalry eventually stretches past their human existence.
Warnings: Military attitude, one-way thinking, implied brutal death, enemies to tolerated allies to lovers, alien prejudice/racism? (that one's a little tough to word I guess), swearing, etc.
Word Count: 2k+
A/N: Thank you for your patience, and sorry it took so long!
Also, Jake and Neytiri don't end up getting together and having kids in this one. I couldn't bear to do my Mama dirty like that.
~~~~~~~~~
Corporal Y/n L/n was many things. Tough, capable, determined, and loyal. The RDA was lucky to have her... at least that's what she tells people. No task was impossible and no mission was too dangerous. Y/n followed her orders down to a tee, so you could imagine the anger she felt when her loyalty was shoved aside in exchange for wheelchair-bound Corporal Jake Sully.
There's no such thing as an ex-marine, and yet Y/n has never met the next closest thing until she met Jake. Honorably discharged after the loss of his legs in Venezuela, Jake was only in Pandora for the sake of the RDA not having to waste millions of dollars on an avatar whose rider, Jake's twin, is dead. Technically, Jake shouldn't have been mingling with the war dogs at Hell's Gate and should've stuck to the scientists. But Selfridge and Quaritch had other plans and had asked Jake to go undercover as their eyes and ears among the Na'vi.
Y/n didn't think Jake deserved all the credit he had been given after he managed to insert himself with the Omatikaya, and she voiced her opinion to him, "What'd you have to do? Bat your cat eyes at them?"
Jake knew when he was being mocked, clenching his jaw and narrowing his eyes back at her, "They accepted me after I told them I was a warrior from a neighboring clan."
"Seriously? What clan?"
He had the gall to look bashful in front of her, the tips of his ears turning pink while muttering under his breath, "The Jarhead Clan?"
She laughed in disbelief and likely disgust, "Are you kidding me? 'They fell for that? If it's that easy, maybe Quaritch doesn't need you after all. I bet we could just walk in there claiming we're all from the Jarhead Clan."
"They're smarter than they look, and I don't see you volunteering yourself to communicate with them." The marine sassed back, his attitude getting the better of him.
"They're not worth my time," Y/n shrugged, nonchalantly, "They're clearly not smart enough to handle me if they ate up your punk ass lies."
"You don't exactly have anything better to do. Other than complaining, I guess."
She snaps her attention back to the man in the wheelchair, eyes glaring into his soul. It wasn't every day someone had the guts to match Y/n's cold exterior, and she didn't appreciate being badmouthed by the rookie who just got a lucky shot of working the same rank as her, "Watch yourself, Sully."
He smiled, the bastard, turning his chair in the direction he wanted to go, wheeling away, "I gotta head out. Unlike some folk, I actually have a mission to accomplish."
~~~
The scientists were moving out. Apparently, Dr. Augustine was spooked at the idea of Parker breathing down the neck of her operation so she's bringing her avatar team up to Site 26 in the mountains, Sully included.
Y/n was strutting down the hall and happened to catch Jake after he left the control room to let Quaritch know what was going on. She noticed a suspicious-looking smile on the marine's face and something didn't sit right with her at the sight of it. Without much thought, she held her foot out and it abruptly stops the wheelchair in its tracks. Jake peered up at her, his smile quickly fading when he realized who it was, his jaw tightening.
"You're smiling." She stated her observation out loud, gracing him with a frown to match, "It's not a good look, much less a normal look for you. Just remember whose side you're on, Sully."
How could she have possibly known what he might be thinking? She couldn't have known he was smiling at the thought of getting away, wanting to forget all about this place in exchange for seeing this world through the eyes of Neytiri.
No. There's no way she could know that. As suspicious as Y/n was, she was blind to everything Jake has experienced out there. He leans close, staring up at her with those hard, daring eyes, "I do. My side."
~~~
It bothered Y/n to learn Jake had betrayed them. Did she expect it? Obviously. So it bothered her all the more that she expected it. She could have prevented this by stopping Jake from leaving or reporting him to Quaritch, so why did she let him go?
She decides that she can fix this mistake by helping blow up Hometree and further help in the battle waiting for them in the Hallelujah Mountains.
Did she feel regret watching the magnificent tree crash down, likely killing hundreds of Na'vi in the process? Only for a moment, her mindset now on her orders to return back to Hell's Gate. Best foot forward, she manned the gun as they flew to the Tree of Souls, only to be ambushed by the Na'vi, astride direhorses, and ikran. Y/n didn't feel regret gunning down as many as she could after watching the bastards kill her friends and acquaintances, people she worked with for years and formed bonds with living on a moon so far away from home.
She was thrown from her gunship, however, before she could fully enact her revenge. As she fell to her death, she watched the battle going on above her. She watched her gunship being tossed around by the devil itself, the Great Leonopteryx, larger than any ikran she had ever seen. The beast and its rider, Toruk Makto himself, smashed Y/n's gunship against the side of one of the floating mountains, and she's forced to watch it explode in debris and flame. Her heart drops, however, when the blades of the ship came spiraling through the air and toward her falling form.
That was the last thing she remembered before everything went black.
~~~
FIFTEEN YEARS LATER...
Instead of black, she's blinded by an overly bright hospital light. Only, Y/n wasn't in a hospital and she felt like she was lying on top of a stainless steel dissection table. Disorientated and sore, Y/n focused on the voice of the doctors (were they doctors?) surrounding her field of vision. They instruct her to take it easy and flex her fingers. When she lifts her hand to do so, she's suddenly wide awake and self-aware.
Her hand was blue.
~~~
Following her resurrection came the other Recoms of Project Phoenix. Z-Dog and Wainfleet were next, then Ja, Brown, Fike, Lopez, Prager, Walker, Warren, Mansk, and Zhang. Most of them she knew back at Hell's Gate, or at the very least was acquainted with them. Finally, Quaritch came to and Y/n couldn't lie how entertaining it was to watch the colonel wake up and immediately kick in his fight or flight mode. It didn't help that Lyle thought it would be a great idea to greet Quaritch with his new ugly avatar mug. Later on, Wainfleet admitted that he already forgot about his new body and didn't think how the colonel would react, and in response, Y/n laughed and called him an idiot.
~~~
Their temporary resurrection and reunion were cut short when they arrived back on Pandora. Quaritch gets them to work immediately after receiving his orders from Ardmore and the Recoms are sent out into the wild to test out and see if the moon would react to their presence. So far, they hadn't triggered any immune response. No animal attacked them and the plant life kept still. The new and improved avatars track down the old shack where Quaritch breathed his last breaths, locating his remains and extracting the old footage from the AMP suit.
What they didn't expect to find there was a human boy, running around, acting like one of the Na'vi, apart from his breathing mask and exo-pack. He was about sixteen and clearly someone who had been left behind in the initial evacuation when the humans were driven off Pandora. When they captured him, he introduced himself as Spider Socorro, none other than Paz and Quaritch's son. But Spider wasn't very adamant at the idea of the colonel standing over him being his sperm donor.
"You're not my father! My Dad is Toruk Makto! He's on his way to save me! He knows I'm here, and he's going to kill every single one of you!"
That bit of information only enraged Quaritch even further, and Y/n couldn't exactly blame him. First, Jake betrayed his own kind, killed many humans, forced them to go home with tails tucked between their legs, and now he's raised Quaritch's son up and brainwashed him to be an animal.
The Recoms take Spider's threat to heart and secure him, keeping him tied up in the center of their circle as they wait for Ardmore to come and pick them up. It was dark and it had started to rain. They kept their backs to each other and kept their eyes peeled on the jungle line. And yet, they never saw him coming.
It was all a blur. Due to the darkness and the rain, Y/n was one second too late to realize that she had been separated from the group as the Recoms were getting picked off, one by one. There was the familiar sound of a grenade launcher being triggered before Y/n had the time to dive down and cover herself to the best of her ability. The explosion goes off somewhere nearby and her ears begin to ring, debris of dirt sprinkling down on top of her. The shouts from her team slowly die away, following the sound of Ardmore's ship picking them up. She tries catching her breath, her mind not yet realizing what had happened just as hands began to grab at her shoulders, her instincts driving her to fight or flight mode.
She kicks them away and scrambles to put a distance between herself and the stranger, lifting her AR in her arms and pointing in their direction. In front of her stood a tall Na'vi man, only he had the traits of an avatar-- a very familiar avatar.
The snarl she let out wasn't as human as she was used to. It was more feral and she tried not to let it surprise her, "Shit. Sully."
Jake Sully's eyebrows furrow at the voice, eyes frantically scanning her form. Definitely an avatar but dressed in camo and currently pointing an AR at his face. The voice sounded strangely familiar, but it wasn't until he noticed the name patch on her bulletproof vest did his eyes widen in recognition. He peered back up at her eyes, tilting his head, "L/n?"
She cursed again, rage pooling through her eyes as she gnashed her sharp teeth at him, "Traitor!"
Y/n goes to pull the trigger, but something from behind had clubbed her in the crook of her leg, forcing the limb to give in and collapse against her will. She shouts and the trigger slips, the gunfire missing Jake by an inch as he barrels forward when the moment of opportunity strikes. He wrestles the rifle out of Y/n's hands and pushes her to the ground, using the orange slap-cuffs she possessed and using them against her, restraining her hands behind her back. Y/n snarls and hisses like a wild animal caught in a trap, her ears and tail lashing violently as she's forced face down into the mud, the whole front side of her wet and cold with the rainfall still pouring like nobody's business. With her head tilted off to the side, she realized her attacker was none other than Spider with a large branch still heavy in his hands. With his captive secure, Jake stood up and stepped toward the human boy, kneeling down to meet his height and checking him over for injuries or cracks in his mask.
"You alright, kiddo?"
"Yeah," Spider breathes, smiling faintly when Jake gently knocks his knuckles against the glass of his mask affectionately. 
"Good. Let's get you home. Your sister's probably worried sick."
That was news to Y/n. From what she understood, Quaritch and Paz only had Spider, unless the colonel was getting around. Looking back, Paz could have cozied up to others, but from the few encounters Y/n had with her, she didn't seem like the type. Socorro was high maintenance. 
Still left on the cold, wet ground, Y/n continued to struggle until Sully remembered that she was there, and the bastard had the gall to smile down at her while patting Spider's shoulder proudly, "Well, son... not bad for your first catch."
"Go to Hell!" She screeched back. This had gotta be the worst night of her life.
~~~~~~~~~
Part 2? Lemme know!
Have your own request? Click here for the rules! If you wanna see more of my works, click here for the masterlist. Thank you!
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sublimecatgalaxy · 1 year
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Rafe Cameron x tutor!reader? I know it’s been done a lot but it’s a really fun idea.
This is possibly one of my favorite tropes in this fandom.
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Of course a storm had to hit the minute I wanted to leave after my meeting with Wheezie.
We finished up her math and her history homework in a few hours, Ward paid me and I had all of my stuff ready to go when I heard the booming of thunder over the estate. Rose had mentioned when I got there that there was some nasty weather coming towards us but I definitely was not expecting a tropical storm that's forcing everyone to stay in their homes till it passes- which, of course, would be tomorrow.
It's not the worst placed to be holed up, not in the least. They had plenty of food, plenty of guest bedrooms, Sarah and Wheezie and I already spend so much time together so it wasn't odd. But I'd never been forced to spend so much time under the same roof as Rafe.
I have no personal issues with him, I've just heard things throughout the different pogues that I hang out with, including Sarah's boyfriend who's had a thing against Rafe since they were in primary school- the last time they were in the same social bracket.
He's just the older, best friends brother, who'd go out of his way to mess with me if given the chance- whether than be at parties, during my meetings with Wheezie, or if he happens to be at the beach the same time I'm there, basking in the sun. He's an instigator, he loves the attention and he almost demands it whenever he walks in the room just by the stupid cocky look on his handsome face.
I practically jump out of my skin as the house shakes, rain pounding against the window of the guest room that I've forced myself into after gladly changing into a change of clothes that Sarah had graciously offered me.
"You okay?" My head snaps to the open door where Rafe stands, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. I give him a simple nod before looking back out the window, watching my bike fall over in their driveway with a sigh.
"That was my bike you heard hitting the ground." I huff, biting at the skin around my nails as I tuck my legs under me, heart pounding as I feel the weight of Rafe's gaze.
"I can give you a ride home in the morning- in fact, my dad's insisting I do." He laughs awkwardly, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck, feet shuffling against the carpet.
"Thanks, Rafe." His name feels foreign as it leaves my lips as he steps into the room. "Do you need anything-"
"How's the, uh, sessions been with Wheezie?" He asks suddenly, cheeks blushed in a faint red tint. His question makes my brows tick up in confusion, wondering why on earth he cares- he's never been interested enough to ask. "That was a really poor attempt to try to talk to you." He chuckles bashfully, leaning against the wall only feet away from me.
"You could've just talked to me." I laugh, fisting the sleeves of my long-sleeve shirt, nervously biting at the inside of my cheek. If Wheezie was here, she's ask for some distance between us, constantly joking about my 'hormones' when it comes to her brother. She's way smarter than people give her credit for and you'd be so surprised on the things she's picked up on, even when you don't want her to.
"Yeah?" He asks, brows furrowing cutely. "Can we talk now?" His question makes my stomach flip, more so than the pounding thunder outside the walls as the rain violently hits against the window.
"About?" He shrugs, sliding down the wall to sit. "We've literally never had a substantial conversation. Why now?" I ask, jumping as another crash of thunder hits, lightening lighting the whole room up momentarily.
"In all honesty?" He asks with a sheepish laugh.
"I'd hope so." A few moments pass, Rafe's lips parted in silent words, the smile on his lips not fading as I wait.
"I think you're really hot."
I'm sorry, what?
I blink dumbly at him, jaw slack as he laughs. "That was unexpected." I whisper, reaching up to rub my hands down my face, taking a second to grin like an idiot into my palms. "Just like this storm." I snort, pointing out the window as the house rattles.
"Do you not like storms?" He asks, not phased one bit at chaos.
"I do. But only when I'm tucked in my bed in my trusty trailer and not in a mansion, in clothes and a room that aren't mine." I chuckle nervously, watching his brows settle and his lips tug down into a frown as he looks around the room.
"Well, it's not your bed or your room but I could tuck you in." He flirts, his grin making my head spin especially at the realization that he's openly flirting with me.
"I'll be fine-" I cut myself off with a squeak as another crack of lightening lights up the room, a loud laugh coming from Rafe who claps his hands in amusement.
"Mhm, you look fine." He teases, making his way over to sit beside me, his arm scooting around my waist to pull me into his side. I gawk up at him, taken completely off guard at his forwardness but he just smiles calmly.
"So you've gotten an excuse to talk to me and now what? Touch me?" I ask, finding it humorous that he'd ever take on the stance of a 'knight in shining armor' to protect me from the raging storm outside.
"Yeah, I'd say this is working out in my favor." He shrugs cockily but his soft smile tells a different story, his boyish gaze flickering across my hesitant expression. Reaching out, I press a hand to his chest and he raises his hands in surrender with a laugh.
"Cool it, hot shot. Before I tell your sister you came onto me." He scoffs at my threat, bumping his shoulder with mine before patting my knee as another crack of thunder sounds above us.
"She'd jump for joy."
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imaginefan · 6 months
Text
Not Who I Wanted.
Damon Salvatore X GN!Reader
Word Count: 789
Requested: Anon
Request: Enzo tries to hook you up with Damon, but you like Enzo not Damon. Damon picks up on the fact you like Enzo and tries to get you to admit it even though he is bummed you don't like him, one shot tvd. Reader is a Witch.
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You needed to learn how to express your feelings properly, that was what you were getting from your current situation. You see you were on a date with Damon Salvatore, now it wasn’t like that was a bad thing, he wasn’t unattractive and he was being really nice, that being said he wasn’t your type, the person that you wanted was the one that set you up on the date. Lorenzo, you don’t even know how it happened, you just know that you were talking at one point about people that you would be open to dating, he realised that you had a crush on someone and assumed that it was Damon.
“Hey, are you still with me?” Damon asked from across the table and you blinked as you looked at him. “What?” You asked. “Alright, what are you doing here because you clearly aren’t interested in this date.” He said, you flinched at the accusation but decided that telling the truth was going to hurt less people, you didn’t want to lead him on after all. “I’m sorry that you got caught in the middle of this.” You sighed “I didn’t mean to end up on a date with you.” “What did you mean to happen?” He asked. “Well I don’t know but I didn’t mean for this to happen.” You answered. “I was just trying to-” You stopped yourself before saying what your true intentions were instead and revealing your crush to someone who had a hard time keeping his mouth shut. “You were just trying to hide your crush on Enzo.” He smirked, unfortunately for you Damon was way smarter than anyone gave him credit for and his ability to read emotions was second to none. “You figured it out.” You mumbled. “I figured it out the moment that you got here.” He shrugged. “I’m surprised that you even agreed to go on a date with me, I thought you’d say no.” You answered honestly, it was one of the reasons that you had chosen him as the cover, you thought he’d say no and that would be the end of it. “I don’t think you realise how many people around here would say yes to a date with you.” He smirked as you frowned. “That’s not true. I spent enough time in school to know that.” You waved him off. “School with a bunch of boys, inexperienced idiots who don’t know what they are looking for?” He asked. “Not the best place to judge yourself from.” “That's all I have.” You shrugged. “Well take my word for it there are others who want to take you out, you should talk to Enzo about it, maybe he’ll surprise you.” Damon shrugged. “I’m sure there are other witches that he is interested in far more, I’ll just keep quiet over here.” You answered. “You know he’s right, you should talk to him.” You jumped at the sound of the voice looking up to see Enzo standing over the table. “W-what are you doing here?” You asked. “Me?” He asked “I came to make sure that the date was going well and get a drink. Imagine my surprise when I walked in and you were talking about me and how much you like me.” Enzo smirked as he pulled up a chair from another table sitting a little closer to you then you would have liked given the circumstance. “And then I hear you say that there’s someone better for me than you, don’t you think that should be my choice, gorgeous?” “I… I um.” You couldn’t seem to form a sentence as you played with your sleeves. “Damon, I think I might steal your date.” Enzo smirked. “Sure if she’s okay with it.” Damon shrugged, he was sad about the fact that you weren’t attracted to him but he wanted you to be happy more than anything, plus it looked like Alaric could use a drinking buddy. “What do you think, Darling?” Enzo asked lifting your chin to look at him, you looked at Damon. “Are you sure?” You asked. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll be okay, you deserve to be happy for once and it looks like Alaric could use a drinking buddy.” Damon said and you swallowed before looking back at Enzo. “Okay.” You nodded. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.” He smiled, pulling you up from where you were sitting and leading you out. Damon walked over to Alaric. “That was nice.” Alaric muttered as he pushed a drink over to him. “Well I do have at least one nice bone in my body.” Damon waved him off as he took the drink “and if anyone deserved it, it was (Y/N).”
Requests and general question!
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kindatiredtho · 5 months
Note
Love all the Genma/Hayate content you've been feeding us lately! Can I ask, how do you headcanon they met and became interested in each other?
Okay but you brought this upon yourself. I've been obsessed with them for six years and barely talked.
First of all imagine knowing each other since childhood.
I mean aging logic regarding PRE-big 12 (means nart & friends) generations in Naruto sucks butt but I tried to figure out just how old all of them were when they graduated. Also there’s war and they’re children and Konoha needs more soldiers. Also bigass Fox Demon just burned the village down and the Hokage and his wife are both dead. Also bigass Fox Demon.
Pretty crazy, right?
So I just went ahead and assumed that Kakashi’s generation (tokubetsu jonins and my two absolute fools especially) just bonded through their traumatic experiences and decided to stick together. It’s easier to believe you’re a normal kid if there’s others like you around.
Also a tiny scraggy kid with a big fucking katana is a sight just as hilarious as it’s sad.
So I thought that it’ll be pretty funny to assume that Hayate, being as lanky, always sick and quiet as he is (also being the youngest one of them), just became everyone’s little brother. Or a bad parody of that. Just as good as those war-damaged kids can do.
So just *shrugs* Genma was almost always around and they were on the same chuunin exam, so they sort of got used to each other. They started growing closer together much later, I think.
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Gekkō’s said to be - and I quote - “an individualist and a gentle person”. Gemma’s a “calm and collected, casual” one. I imagine them falling just a little behind their friends and teammates to just walk together, without talking much (I mean bc who tf can survive full day with Gai AND Ebisu in their team???).
Also quiet gossip sharing just between two of them because Hayate hears far more than people think he does. And Genma isn’t as nonchalant as given credit to. Also Hayate has a weird sense of humor and Genma cracks unfunny jokes. Hayate laughs every single time.
If Hayate taught Yūgao how to kenjutsu her way through the bad guys while her being an ANBU (the skillful dudes tm) then it’s logical to assume that - even if not an ANBU - Hayate is cool enough to be considered as skilled in being quiet, observant and fast as those guys are? Right?
And Genma’s an elite bodyguard.
They spar, they train together and fight together sometimes, if given a chance (I believe that Hayate’s often given single missions. Usually stealth ones). It just clicks - they both enjoy their time together, fitting with each other effortlessly. Sharing their stories and experience, tea brewing secrets and badly made bentos. Because shinobi can only have that much.
And well, that’s where Hayate’s condition comes up and the whole bunch of canon events happens. The difference is that I simply refuse to acknowledge the way he died, okay? Okay.
He was damaged, bruised badly, yes. But he’s also smarter than that, so he takes his leave. Man can turn himself invisible and run around so fast his sword leaves a trace, can’t he just poof his way out???
Can’t do much to prevent the whole Invasion Stuff though, but his newfound information is enough to keep the kids and civilians safe. That’s all that matters right now.
Maybe that’s where, stepping up as a new proctor because the first one is unconscious, Genma thinks “Man, am I worried”. Hayate is in a very unstable condition, mostly because of his sickness than his wounds. And he can also be permanently removed from his oh-so-fairly-earned title as a Special jonin and forced to quit being a ninja. That sucks.
Also I’ve decided that the guy - Genma - knows a few healing techniques because he’s cool like that. Tsunade’s first genin team member idk. Something along these lines.
So poor old Haya-chan suffers a bit from his injuries and coughing fits, healed as much as Genma could offer. And well? Tsunade doesn’t exactly heal him but she helps. Because “Shiranui you’re an adult - and a big one at that - you can’t sulk all the time! For fucks sake!”
And everyone just assumes that they’re together? Yūgao thinks it’s a bad thing because Genma looks and behaves like a typical Casanova. It’s okay, her brother figure slash best friend is going to be fine, so that’s all that matters. Maybe she did threaten Genma once. Or twice. Like it’s a big deal? (Anko finds it incredibly funny).
So one day someone (Gai? Raido, maybe?) just asks Genma “hey, pal, how’s that boyfriend of yours doing?” And Genma just bluescreens. Because who. What.
Later then Hayate (who unknowingly pined for the said guy around ten solid years?) hears Genma complaining about that question and just. Feeling brave as fuck and also a bit offended just goes “But like do you have a problem with that?”
“What”
“With being my partner?”
“What.”
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Nothing really changed much, and I picture them as quiet and relaxed couple. An old married one, with painless jabs and harmless jokes, quiet moments and weird personal stories. Also what do you mean it isn’t okay to discuss conspiracy theories instead of going out with your childhood ninja pals?¿¿???¿
They just hangout with each other, sharing silent touches (not always gentle ones, I like to think that they both can be quite dangerous in hand-to-hand combat). Hayate stays up late after his desk duties when Genma's away, while Genma always makes sure to leave notes and small doodles around Hayate's desk before leaving. They both suck at cooking but it doesn't stop them from trying (it always ends up with takeout), and there's a stray cat named Flip-Flop that not quite a ninneko.
Idk man it just feels right. I love being delusional.
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Also I finished some practice doodles. Just in time, lmao
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A Need For Defensive Weapons
Summary: Sam opens up to Danny about something that happened, something he should really remember.
Author's Note:
My Brain: Hey you should continue that Danny Phantom AU
Me: ...Why?
My Brain: I wanna
Me: ...You're not gonna let me stop until the story's done are you
My Brain: Probably not!
Well anyway that whole "this is a one shot" thing didn't even last four days huh
...
Jazz knowing is… weird.
She’s not the most adept at the mechanics of ghost fighting, but after a straightforward talk about it, she lets Danny do most of the main action and backs him up when he asks for it.  And he’ll admit, it’s nice knowing someone will be there to watch his back if he needs it.  Definitely results in less injuries.
But that’s just the very practical reality of Jazz being able to be there when he’s fighting.  There’s other parts of it that are weird too.  For one thing, Jazz is way too terrible at jokes for someone who’s supposed to be related to him.  They really need to work on her banter.  And her knowing looks across the dinner table are a little too obvious for Danny’s comfort.
But honestly, he’s willing to forgo all of it.  Because the other part of it is that he can look at Jazz and be met with a reassuring smile that actually helps him feel at ease.  Or he can talk about ghost fighting freely, as long as they’re sure no one else is around.  He has someone to bounce ideas off of and strategize with, because it turns out Jazz is so much smarter than he’s given her credit for.
It’s a bizarre shift in his normal, but in the end, Danny decides that it’s more good things than bad.  It’s relaxing, having someone to count on.
But it’s also very new, and he’s not sure he feels like he can tell her everything yet.  Knowing he can open up to someone and knowing he can open up to someone are two different things.
He’s also pretty sure Jazz gets that, though, and she’s kept her promise about not pushing him.  He tells her the few things he knows about what happened with Freakshow in short little bursts, and she tells him the things she knows happened while he was gone when he asks, but not otherwise.
This does have some side effects, though.  Mainly being that he comes up with stories that don’t contradict anything in short bursts too, and tells them to Sam and Tucker about as fast.  And while they’re certainly being less harsh with him than they were when he first got back, he can tell it’s starting to irritate them.  Sam, especially.
He doesn’t feel like he can do anything else, though.  And they don’t say anything to him directly, so they all continue to ignore the problem.  Hopefully they can skirt by on that until the problem stops existing and then all move on.
The ghost fighting is slowly picking up again too, and Danny’s starting to have his usual weekly run-ins with Skulker and Technus and the Box Ghost.  It also becomes more and more clear that Amity Park is no longer a fan of Danny Phantom.
Well, granted, they haven’t been a fan of him for a while, but now it’s significantly worse.  It’s a lot harder to find places to hide and go ghost, and a lot of the times Jazz has to cover for him, especially when he’s with Sam and Tucker.  (Another reason he’s glad he told her, actually.)
On the other hand, one thing that definitely hasn’t gotten easier is hearing how Sam and Tucker talk about Phantom now.
It’s not like they were necessarily huge fans of his ghost half before.  If anything, they seemed indifferent.  They brought him up when ghost fights happened near them, which wasn’t always, and they never really had much to say beyond commenting on how that fight move had been cool, or that ghost had been scary, or something along those lines.
But now…
“Okay it’s lunchtime and not after school in the library so you can’t stop me,” Sam snaps as Danny approaches their usual table, late after a detour to fight some ghosts nearby.
He blinks at Sam, feeling like he’s missed the beginning of a conversation.  “What?”
“I need to vent and you can’t stop me!” Sam snaps.
Danny blinks again, and turns to Tucker, who gives him a ‘don’t mess with her’ look.
“Uh, okay?” Danny says, sitting down next to Sam.
“Great!” Sam says, not seeming at all calmer now that Danny’s agreed, and instead turning back to Tucker with an angry gaze.  “Anyway, I need to talk about Invis-O-Bill.”
Oh, great.
“First of all,” Sam says, pointing at Tucker like they’d had this conversation before.  “He has a really stupid name.”
“Ugh, he wouldn’t if people would just—” Danny stops, takes a deep breath, and gestures at Sam.  “Whatever.”
Sam stares at him for a couple seconds, then seems to brush it off and turns back to Tucker.  “But more importantly, I cannot stand his attitude!  You can’t just flip back and forth on a dime between villain and hero and expect people to roll with the punches!  What’s that all about?”
“What’s up with you being so caught up in it?” Danny asks despite himself, managing to hold himself back from glaring at her.  “You never cared about him before.”
“Yeah well he hasn’t been everywhere before!” Sam snaps, glaring the other way.
“So what, you don’t like him because he’s mainstream now?”
“What?  No!” Sam says, turning to glare at him.
“Okay,” Tucker says, leaning in between them.  “Take a breath.  We’re all friends here.”
Danny sighs and looks away.  “Sorry.”
“Yeah, me too,” Sam mutters, looking down at her food.  “I just— I guess it all just has me a little on edge.”
“There have been a few more ghosts lately,” Danny says, though he hasn’t actually seen too much of an uptick.  “You know, if you want, I might be able to convince my parents to let you come over and I could show you how to use some ecto weapons.”
“I… think I’ll take you up on that,” Sam says, which Danny isn’t expecting.  She’s shown total disinterest in ghost fighting before.
“Uh, sure,” he says anyway, because he’s not going to take it back when he was the one who offered.  “You can ride home with Jazz and I today.”
“You sure your parents will let you do that?” Tucker asks.
Danny laughs a little.  “Sure.  All I have to do is say ‘hey guys Sam wants to learn to fight ghosts’ and they’d practically let her move in.”
“Heh, yeah I could believe that,” Sam says with a small smile of her own.
So, after their hour doing homework in the library (Danny is actually making progress, about halfway caught up now), Sam rides home with him and Jazz.  Just like Danny expected, his folks are totally cool with it, and he takes Sam down to the lab to show her some of the ecto weapons.  He just barely manages to talk his dad out of coming along, with a little help from Jazz.
“Okay,” Danny says, feeling more than a little awkward as he leads Sam down to the lab.  He tends to steer clear of ghost stuff with Sam and Tucker for obvious reasons.  “We’ve got a cabinet full of weapons in the back.”
“Cool,” Sam says, turning immediately to look for it.  Danny walks over and she follows close, seeming more than a little eager.
He gives her a look, and Sam smiles, but there’s nerves there.
“Are… you okay?” he asks hesitantly.
“Nothing!  It’s nothing!  Just ready to get started!”
Danny looks at her for a second longer, then shrugs it off and turns back to the cabinet, unlocking it and pulling it open.  “So, you’ll probably want to stick with blasters if you’re just looking for defensive weapons,” he says.  “A small one you can keep in your pocket would be best.”
“Can they be used as offensive weapons?” Sam asks.
“Well, I guess technically,” Danny says, glancing over at her curiously.  “That’s not how I tend to use them.”
“Since when do you use them?”
“Uh, well you’d be surprised how often ghosts come up on family vacations,” Danny says, turning back to the cabinet.  “Okay, I’ve got some wrist rays, lazer lipstick, and a couple smaller handheld blasters.  Any of those sound good?”
“I’ll take the wrist ray,” Sam says, holding out her hand.
“Sure,” Danny says, picking one up and passing it over.  “Those are pretty simple.  You just aim and shoot by pressing the button.”
Sam straps it to her wrist and immediately turns and aims at the opposite wall, pressing the button.  A green beam shoots across the room and blasts a beaker into bits.
“Woah, watch it Sam!” Danny calls, reaching out and pulling her arm back.  “I have to clean that up, you know!”
Sam seems to shake herself, and turns back to Danny.  “I— sorry.  Just testing it.”
“Well we have a perfectly good backyard to test it in,” Danny says.  “You can shoot at some grass or some dandelion fluff.”
Sam looks down and fidgets with the strap on her wrist.  “Yeah,” she says.  “Okay.”
Danny pauses and takes her in.  She’s tense, and her shoulders are hunched like she’s looking for a threat.
“Hey,” he says, reaching out and putting a hand on her arm.  She relaxes a little and turns to look at him.
“Are you okay?” he asks.  “You seem really nervous.  And since when do you want to learn how to fight ghosts anyway?”
“It’s nothing,” Sam snaps, glaring down at the ground.  “You wouldn’t get it anyway, since you don’t stick around enough to know what’s going on.”
Danny winces.
But a second later, Sam sighs.  “No, I’m sorry, that’s not fair,” she says, turning to him with a guilty look.  “It’s really not your fault, and I should stop talking like it is.  Even if it’s still totally crazy that you’re not telling anyone what actually happened.”
Danny is quiet for a minute.  “Did… did something happen to you?” he asks hesitantly.
Sam fiddles with the strap and doesn’t meet his eyes.
Crud.  Something did happen.  Something happened and he wasn’t here to protect her—
“So uh,” Sam says, still not looking at him.  “You know how the last place you said you were going before you were… well, you know, was Circus Gothica?”
“Uh…” Danny wracks his brain and comes up with a vague blurry memory of ditching Sam and Tucker in the library, finding Lancer waiting outside, and overshadowing him to lock him in a broom closet.  “Yeah?”
“Well, Tucker and I followed you,” Sam says.  “We were trying to find out what your deal was.  We never found you, but we did find Freakshow and that Invis-O-Bill guy.”
“Uh, yeah,” Danny says, looking away.  “Following you so far.”
“Well, um.”  Sam takes a deep breath.  “So Freakshow tells me he hasn’t seen you and leaves the tent, and I’m about to follow when Invis-O-Bill shows up and grabs me.”
Danny’s heart drops into his stomach, and he spins back to Sam.  “What?”
“And he puts me up on the highwire,” Sam says, clenching her hands into shaking fists while still glaring at the floor.  “With no net.  And then cuts the wire. If Freakshow hadn’t caught me when I fell I would have died.  He tried to kill me.”
Danny can’t breathe.  “I di— he did?  I don’t— I don’t remember that.”  Why can’t he remember that?
“No, like I said, you were gone already,” Sam says with a sigh, like it’s not a big deal.  “I just, then he just shows up again last week like nothing’s happened and goes back to fighting that stupid ghost with all the boxes, whatever the heck his name is.  I just… I couldn’t take it.”  She looks down at her wrist.  “So I… I think I’ll feel a lot better if I’ve got something to defend myself with, you know?  If he or any other ghost tries to mess with me again.”
“Sure,” Danny says, trying to talk past the sudden lightheadedness.  He hopes his face looks even marginally appropriate for the situation.
Sam looks up at him, and he tries to focus on her and not his racing heartbeat.  “Hey, I— I’m sorry,” she says.  “I know I’ve been kind of snappy lately.  I think I’m just on edge, you know?”
Then, without any warning, she reaches out and wraps her arms around him.  “But I’m really glad you’re okay,” she says, while Danny goes back to staring at the floor and trying to force his breathing to cooperate.  “And I… I’m sorry I got so mad at you when you first showed up again.  It really wasn’t your fault.  I mean, obviously.  I can’t fault you for actually getting kidnapped.”
“It’s okay,” Danny manages.  “I’m fine.  I uh— I need to go to the bathroom.”
Sam pulls back, seeming slightly surprised.  “Oh, okay.  Meet you in the backyard?”
Danny nods and turns to practically run up the stairs.  He doesn’t stop until he reaches the bathroom, then slams and locks the door.  He leans back against it and slides to the floor, burying his head in his knees.
Breathe, you’re fine, nothing permanent happened, Sam’s fine, everything’s fine.
It’s fine.
“Alright!” Danny calls, opening the back door with a bang that’s maybe a little too loud, but that doesn’t stop Sam from turning to him with a smile.  “So let’s teach you how to shoot some grass with a wrist ray!”
...
Chapter Two
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smartycvnt · 3 months
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Penance*
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Title: Penance
Pairing: Stephanie Brown x Reader
Summary: Stephanie seeks out comfort in Ash.
Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, top Stephanie, bottom reader
Word Count: 671
Stephanie was careful to watch her back as she made her way towards the run-down church. She couldn't risk anybody having followed her, especially not one of the Bats. Stephanie would never be able to live it down if they found out about Ash. Bruce was already just looking for an excuse to disown her, and Ash's services was a pretty great one.
There were unwritten rules to being under Bruce's mentorship. Stephanie knew that she had to follow each one, and Ash had to be a direct violation of one of them. Still, Stephanie didn't care about the rules, not when it came to Ash.
The formation of their arrangement was fuzzy in Stephanie's mind. They had grown up together, a fact that both women tended to ignore. Stephanie had gone the route of trying to claw her way out of the gutter by being a hero, and Ash had fully embraced it. She had garnered a good deal of power for herself that way.
Ash was smarter than most people gave her credit for. In just a few months, she had ousted the man pimping her out and took over his entire operation. Stephanie thought it was impressive, even if it had been a stupidly courageous move. Nobody had dared to move in on the old operation, something that still surprised Stephanie. She was waiting for the day when Ash called on her for help over another turf dispute gone wrong.
"I swear that each time we do this, you come by later and later into the evening. Don't you know it's bad mannered to leave a girl waiting like this?" Ash teased. She looked down at Stephanie from the alter of her own making. Ash felt like she was nothing if she couldn't put on a good show.
"Truth be told, I've been bad." Stephanie wasn't playing along with any games, but Ash didn't need to know the things that Stephanie had been doing to chase down her lead. Ash didn't like knowing the things that Stephanie investigated, and Stephanie thought that it was safer that way. The last thing she wanted was to attract the wrong person to the church.
"Well, come and repent. I am in a very forgiving mood," Ash offered. Stephanie would take whatever peace of mind she could get, and if it was given by spending her night in between Ash's thighs, then Stephanie would count that as a bonus.
"Thank you," Stephanie said as she knelt down and began to crawl towards Ash. The smaller woman's breath hitched as Stephanie moved closer and closer. Once they were close enough, Ash spread her legs and let one come to rest on Stephanie's shoulders.
Stephanie rested her hands on the waistband of Ash's underwear for barely a second before she pulled them down Ash's legs. Stephanie glanced up at Ash, who was holding her breath as she waited for Stephanie to make another move. Ash gasped when Stephanie tore her underwear apart with ease. Hungrily, Stephanie practically dove in between Ash's legs to get to her cunt.
"Oh God, Steph!" Ash cried out into the empty church. The moans escaping her mouth grew louder with each swipe of Stephanie's tongue and stroke of her fingers. Ash's fist balled up around Stephanie's hair, holding Stephanie as close as possible. Stephanie wrapped one hand around Ash's hips to hold her in place as the other came down to fuck her.
The muscles in Stephanie's arms flexed as she held down and fucked Ash. She felt like she was using every bit of her strength, and still, she would find it in herself to give more until Ash was satisfied. Stephanie reminded herself what all of this was for, every little reason that she had made up in her own mind. She hoped and prayed to whatever was out there that Ash needed this just as much as Stephanie did, and just like always, she ran away before Ash had the chance to break her heart.
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rages-ooc · 10 months
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Helpless vs. Useless: Chad Charming
Inspired by a poll on the Descendants subreddit asking who the most USELESS AK was, where Chad has taken a severe lead.
Chad Charming is not useless. He’s a great man to have on your side if you need help in literally anything. Chad is helpless, and the difference is absolutely striking in his character-- let me explain.
Chad is never shown as useless. Bumbling at times, sure, but even in those instances he’s never being shown as someone who’s stopped trying and is just in the way, no help at all, not even attempting to help. He’s thrown his entire self into trying to help.
The problem is, Chad is extremely helpless.
When we read the first Isle of the Lost book, we find out from Ben’s perspective that Aurora raised Audrey to never want for anything-- that Aurora’s mentality is that her daughter should never have to suffer like she did. With that in mind, it’s very reasonable & safe to assume that most of the AKs were likely brought up the same way, especially including Chad. Looking at all of the work Cinderella had to do in her life until she met her prince, I find it HIGHLY unlikely Cinderella would have wanted her son to be forced to work for anything he didn’t want to do. So he probably didn’t learn a lot of useful, relevant skills in life, but he definitely learned things like sports, fencing, etc., because it’s what he wanted and excelled in.
Am I positing this as a good thing, no, of course not! But it’s definitely relevant in the discussion today. We see throughout the movies and books he appears in that Chad is trying extremely hard to do better, and at times proves to be far smarter and more helpful than he’s given credit for.
In D2, Chad is revealed to have 3D printed himself a key to Jay & Carlos’ room so he can use their 3D printer. Reasonably? He’s a prince. Chad could easily ask his parents to buy him one. But we learn in School of Secrets Chad has a problem with, ahem, “losing” his phone and just having his parents pay for a replacement. Between that and some other impulsive, likely expensive choices we see him make in this movie and others... it’s very possible his parents wouldn’t buy him one. And so he found a workaround to access what he wants. Is it good, no, but it does establish one thing: Chad is definitely smart enough to get what he wants when he wants it. He’s not useless, he just needs motivation.
And a primary piece of motivation for Chad is Audrey.
In and before D2/leading up to Cotillion, between the movie and Evie’s fashion book, we come to realize Chad has spent a painstaking amount of time trying to get his Cotillion outfit absolutely perfect-- much to Evie’s chagrin, because she notes how picky & persnickety he is in her book/around his sketch. He’s dedicated ages upon ages (& not to mention how much he probably spent) to getting his outfit perfect-- and he drops everything and misses Cotillion entirely to come to Audrey’s rescue over a phone call.
Once again, he’s Chad. If he wants to do something, he will find a way to make it happen-- re, the key. But instead of finding some way around going himself, he goes to help, even though as discussed, he probably doesn’t have the practical skills to help at all.
In Audrey’s diary, she notes that at some point she was on a walk with him, wherein he noted she seemed down, and Chad decided to try and cheer her up by telling her a funny story about Jaques the mouse. She disregards it, & him, but that doesn’t discount it from the Chad side. He saw her upset, he cares about her, he tried to do something to make her feel better. It’s not much good, but it’s what he had & came up with. He’s still trying.
Which brings us to D3. Oh yes, unarguably his motivation was to protect himself. But that doesn’t mean Chad didn’t try at every turn and, when he knew it wasn’t helping, he just did what he was told and accepted that was what he had to do. Still not useless-- he was doing exactly what he intended the entire time: protecting himself. Just helpless-- doesn’t actually have the practical skills to do anything but achieve his own goal of self-preservation.
There are many things I headcanon and believe about Chad. Helpless, clueless, stubborn as a mule, possibly autistic, but definitely not useless. Never useless. He has proven he can be useful so long as he’s motivated to be.
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boundinparchment · 1 year
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Dream a Little Dream of Me - XXI
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Celestia has a cruel sense of humor. He’s always known this, ever since his days as a student. But a soulmate? Really? Dottore/Female Reader Soulmate AU. Lore speculation, interpretations, etc. AO3 Chapter is Here.
“I was hoping we wouldn’t meet this way.”
The stranger was a small child and her legs dangled from the piano bench.  She looked out of place, lost, too full of life for this space.  And yet, despite her appearance, she had the gaze you only saw from those with long lives who had stories upon stories to tell.  She shook her head as she continued.
“In fact, I was hoping we wouldn’t have to meet at all.  But to say more beyond that would put you in grave danger, both from myself and your own circumstances.  Please forgive me for being obtuse.”
“Then why are you here?” You asked, looking out into the hallway, towards the direction you just came from.
Empty.  Zandik would likely be a while longer and sound didn’t carry down several flights of stairs.  But sometimes he had such a keen sense when something was amiss…as though he could always see you…or at least sense you.
Better to get what answers you could.  You knew this game well enough.  You turned your attention back to the young girl.  The rooms in your private quarters were decorated long before you arrived, dark wood and dark colors with gold accents that made the stranger stand out like a fresh sprout in a dull field.
“No, better question: who are you?” you rephrased.
“You can call me Nahida.  I cannot stay long, not without consequence.  And I believe I would be correct in surmising that you also know that something about this,” the little radish, for you couldn’t help but see her as one, raised her arms and gestured to the room, “is not as it seems.”
Such was the life of a Harbinger’s partner, you wanted to counter.  But the argument never made it to your lips.  You didn’t quite believe it would matter.
“Subtle hints are all I can offer; anything else will cause destabilization.  And my own presence is already spread too thin.  But the Outcast’s soulmate…was someone I had to meet for myself when I realized who you were.”
There it was again, that word.  You’d heard it whispered in the hall of the Akademiya when you first truly laid eyes on your soulmate, on the one who called himself The Doctor.  He must have done something truly horrific to warrant such a name from both the student body and the Sages themselves.  But the child in front of you was neither, that much you could guess.  Your expression shifted and the hairs on the back of your neck rose.
“Don’t call him that,” you spat.
“The two of you are…two sides of the same coin…passionate, dedicated to your work, but you are grounded in your humanity, your emotion, whereas his pursuit of knowledge has no limitations…someone like him would be innately fascinated by such a connection…especially his unique, if understandable, perspective on the Divine…”
Nahida hopped down from the piano bench and crossed her arms.  
This had never happened before.  No one ever managed to get past the security in place in this particular section of the Palace.  There were a few exceptions, of course, but Zandik wouldn’t make one for a tiny child who looked like a newborn tree.  
“Your analysis is poignant but I do not understand, exactly, what it is you’re doing here,” you said.  “I don’t think a child would have managed to slip past the guards, let alone figure out the security system that—”
“What do you call him?” Nahida asked suddenly.  “The Outcast goes by a different name according to you, otherwise the title would not make you so uncomfortable.”
The answer was immediate, your heart providing it for you.
“Zandik.  To me, he is Zandik.”
The name was enough to make the child pause and look at you again, her gaze seeing through you.  No way was she only a mere child.  Children were observant, far smarter than they were ever given credit for, but there was weight to her line of sight, a levity that…
“I see.  And does he remind you of the Zandik of your dreams?  The one you first met?”
You were taken aback, your heart skipping for a moment.  What kind of question was that?  If the mention of his moniker wasn’t bad enough, this child was now questioning you and your perception.
You knew who, precisely, your soulmate was.  The man down in the workshop could be no one else except for Zandik.  You’d spent more than half of your life dreaming of him, dreaming with him, through all of the good and the bad that you’d experienced over the course of your lives.
He’d never told you how he became the Outcast; conversely, you never told him the extent of your suffering at the hands of your patron.  Barriers neither of you touched.
You glared at her, no longer caring whether she was a curious child or something, someone, else.  So many years were spent questioning others’ actions and words, second-guessing yourself at every turn.  Not again.
“Consider it,” Nahida said.  “That is all I ask.  Look again.  When we remember events, we’re really remembering the last time we thought of them.  Distortions happen over time, our minds filling in gaps to make sense of what, at the time, did not.”
You heard your name from down the hall, a joyous song full of teasing promise.  He was finished for the night.  He was all yours.  
Your head jolted towards the direction of the sound but when you turned your head back towards the piano, the bright sprout was gone, no trace of its presence.  You could have dreamt the entire interaction but your chest tightened at that notion as you doubted yourself.  No.  She wasn’t a hallucination.  You were exhausted but you never…
A hand pressed against the small of your back and you jolted, torn from your thoughts.  Familiar colors and details came into view, gray pants, pinstripe waistcoat, exposed collarbone, aquamarine hair and crimson eyes as deep as the wine you would serve with dinner.  Zandik’s mouth was dipped into a pout, concern etched into his brow.  Worry looked too much like he was trying to solve a problem as of late.
“Noor ‘eini, you shouldn’t hide things from me,” his other hand brushed hair away from your forehead.  “I know when you aren’t feeling alright.  Overworking yourself isn’t the solution.”
“Says the man who spends days in his lab without sleep.”
“Touche,” he pressed a kiss to your temple, his touch lingering.  “But I’m here now, aren’t I?”
You felt yourself melt into the touch, too exhausted to provide a sharp comeback.  So much to do.  At least ten pages still needed to be inked and finalized.  The very notion made your mind protest and you felt yourself being directed away from your music room and towards the bedroom, urging you to take a break.
“You can go back to it after you’ve given your eyes and hands a break,” Zandik compromised.  “But for now…”
You felt soft covers and cool sheets, warmth that was more than just your own, your body craving everything.
All of this…
All of this felt right.
He was Zandik.  Your Zandik.
Nothing was out of place.
Nothing.
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From the Ashes Pt.17
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Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister
Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, Selmy & Tyrion POV
Words: 2262
Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 3.5  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 16 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35
Book Two of Dārilaros hen ōrbar se perzys (Heir of Ash and Fire)
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Lady Ashara Dayne was as beautiful as the day Barristan had first met her. The most beautiful woman in the entire world, at least in his eyes. There was an undeniable flutter in his chest as his palms began to develop a film of sweat. And it wasn’t due to the Dornish heat. Even little Tyrion gazed at the mistress of Starfall with enchanted eyes. Their journey through the Red Mountains had been long and excruciating as the glare of the sun bore down on them. Only to be relieved when they neared the shores of the cooling Summer Sea.
Playful lilac eyes that reminded him of the Targaryens, Ashara welcomes them with open arms. “This is quite the surprise. To what do I owe the honor of this visit? I hope it doesn’t have to do with my brother.” Her smile falls. “Arthur is okay, right?”
Barristan purses his lips in uncertainty. “To be honest I do not know, my lady. I have heard no news on Rhaegar’s front.”
Concern filled her pretty face but she relented with a nod. “I see. Knowing Arthur I can only assume that he is doing okay. . .”
“He is one of the best knights in all of Westeros.” Tyrion happily points out.
“Ah, I see you have acquired yourself a young squire.” Ashara smiles down at Tyrion. Nothing on her face showed displeasure at the sight of the dwarf which surprised Tyrion.
“Yes. This is Vaiko Hill.”
“A strong name.” Her long dark hair falls over her shoulder like a silk curtain. It made Tyrion perk up and shyly blush.
“My lady, I’m afraid this visit isn’t one of leisure.” Solemnly, Barristan breaks the news of their mission and shows Ashara the chest they are to deliver to Essos.
She examines it, running her hands over the worn out wood and metal trim. “You have not mentioned to whom you would be delivering such an important package to. If it were for anyone normal surely you would have just left through Blackwater Bay, yes?”
Barristan became all too aware of Tyrion’s presence. “I have been given instructions not to say the recipient’s name. It’s a rather delicate situation.”
Ashara was smart. Much smarter than Barristan gave her credit for. “You must understand my hesitation to let you board one of my ships. You have still allied yourself to Aerys, the man my brother is trying to overthrow. What if this item is meant to destroy the efforts of Arthur and the rest of Rhaegar’s army? I can’t let that happen. My family comes first, Ser. I will not take part in my own brother’s undoing.” There was no need for a sword to make Ashara fierce. One of many reasons why Starfall was left in her care since her nephew Edric was too young to rule. When she wanted, she could emanate fear. It reminded Selmy of the young Cersei Lannister; lovely yet there was a terrifying aura about them.
It made Barristan swallow back the immediate nerves that had surfaced. “This matter has nothing to do with the war, I swear on it.”
His words do little to convince her as she stands her ground. “Then you won’t mind if I join your company to Essos.”
Gawking now, he stammers over several excuses. “My lady, I assure you-”
“Your assurance means little to me. Not when I know that you are still loyal to the Mad King.”
Tyrion squirmed beside his knight as he felt the storm of tension brewing over head. A fact that Tyrion had forgotten was that Selmy was indeed still loyal to the current crown. If the rumors he heard were true, then Aerys had a hand in (y/n)’s death. He felt the tips of his ears grow warm as anger settled in. The man he had been traveling with for weeks was in charge of protecting a monster. His sister was dead and Barristan was shielding the murderer. How could he have forgotten? Truth be told, Tyrion quite enjoyed traveling with the older knight. They got along fairly well and Tyrion was enthralled by the stories he told. Barristan was the father Tyrion never had. How could he continue to follow this man though when his liege possibly murdered his beloved sister? It would be a dishonor to her memory.
He couldn’t say any of that out loud. At least not in front of Ashara. He wasn’t Tyrion Lannister. He was a bastard with a name of a hero he had read about in a Valyrian story. Even though it pained him, Tyrion kept his mouth shut and glared down at his leather boots.
With a grimace and a reluctant sigh, Barristan agreed. She would find out sooner or later who he’d be traveling to. As would Tyrion.
Satisfied, the smile returns to Ashara’s face. “It’s settled then. We leave for Essos tomorrow morning. Oh! Both of you must have had quite a long journey. Lets get you some food and a comfortable bed.”
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“How long will you be gone for?” Allyria asks her older sister. Young Edric Dayne had attached himself to Vaiko like a lost duckling. Vaiko didn’t seem to mind too much as he entertained the lordling with tales of his journey while his master washed up. The sisters watched them as they spoke quietly to one another.
A few of Starfall’s knights, when hearing Vaiko tell Edris how Selmy was teaching him the art of the blade, wanted to test the dwarf’s skills. Unafraid, he wielded a makeshift sword made of wood. He showed off the stances that Barristan the Great had showed him, earning a stare of admiration from Edric.
“I don’t know. A month possibly.”
That causes Allyria to groan. “Why did you have to insist on going?”
Ashara crosses her arms in front of her chest. “I am doing my part in protecting our brother. We can’t trust him if he still allies himself with Rhaegar’s enemy.” Then in a softer tone she adds “I don’t want to lose another brother, Allyria. I won’t be able to survive. . .”
Allyria’s heart melted and she wrapped her arms around her sister. “I know. Adriyan died too soon.”
Returning her sister’s embrace, Ashara sighs. “I can’t do much, but at least I can keep an eye on Aerys’ most trusted knight. Make sure that he truly won’t do anything that could make the war end in Aerys’ favor.”
She nods, lavender eyes cast to their clasped hands as Allyria ran her thumb over one of Ashara’s rings. A shiny opal in the shape of a multi-pointed star, the same one she had on her pinky. “It can be a dangerous journey.”
That didn’t deter Ashara as she lets go of Allyria’s hands. “The world can be a dangerous place. However, it can also be an exciting one filled with adventure.”
“At least try to be careful. I know you can be reckless at times.”
It makes her older sister laugh. “Of course. I intend on returning to Starfall. Make no mistake about that, Allyria.”
Returning to observing the two young boys, Allyria finds herself frowning. “Is that really Ser Selmy’s squire?”
“Vaiko? Yes.”
“Is he. . .”
Ashara already knew what her sister was thinking. “Yes. That doesn’t seem to stop him though. I quite admire little Vaiko. As far as I know, there has never been a dwarf squire let alone a knight. I’m eager to get to know him better.”
“I hope the boy prospers under Selmy’s tutelage.”
“If anyone can make Vaiko a true knight, it’s Barristan Selmy. The only other man who could possibly beat Arthur in a duel.”
A sly coil of a smile sneaks up on Allyria. “Oh? What about your northern lordling?”
She refuses to meet Allyria’s teasing grin. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Chin atop the back of her hand, Allyria knew she had cornered her. “I suppose you wouldn’t be interested then in Ned’s most recent act of bravery.”
Try as she may, Ashara couldn’t keep up the facade of disinterest. “I’m sure its an enthralling story.”
A handmaid shortly came in to announce that supper was ready.
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Watching the dock hands load the cargo onto the ship, Ashara gazes at the horizon of the Summer Sea. Seagulls wailed above, pestering fish below as they dove into the blue water. A small layer of fog covered the dock in the early morning, bringing a slight chill to Ashara’s bare shoulders. Her intent gaze watched as Selmy carried the chest he had showed her. What was in there? From when she had examined it, there was no latch or even padlock.
An excited Tyrion follows close behind Barristan, the thumping his boots made against the wooden deck sent tremors in his chest. He had never been on a ship before. Whenever he did travel it was always by carriage, to keep him hidden from public view. The vast ocean ahead of him looked daunting at first. Deep breaths soothed any fear he had. Tyrion would prove to his father that he could do this.
A pat on his shoulder startles him and Tyrion quickly turns to find Barristan. Behind him, Ashara is making her way aboard with a few Starfall knights that would be accompanying her for safety.
“Are you sure it’ll be okay that Lady Dayne is accompanying us?”
Not liking the idea much either, Barristan sighs. “It shouldn’t make much of a difference. From here it will be a straight voyage to Volantis. She’s rightfully suspicious.”
The question was out of his mouth before Tyrion could reel it back in. “Why are you still in the Kingsguard?” Aerys is a bad man. Everyone knows how unstable he is.” Resentment was laced in there and looking at Tyrion’s cold eyes made Barristan feel uncomfortable. The real question was ‘why do you still protect my sister’s murderer?’
“I took the oath before Aerys became king. Under his father Jahaerys. A lifelong vow of loyalty. As long as I am alive, I am to defend and protect whoever sits on the Iron Throne. No matter what. . . To do otherwise would be treasonous.” He tried to explain to Tyrion, but even Selmy knew how pathetic it sounded. He resented himself for still serving Aerys, what could he do though? If he were to go back on his oath, Selmy would possibly be stripped of his knighthood; even executed.
“Your vow is more important than your morality.” Flatly claimed Tyrion.
Irked, he glares at the young boy. “What do you know of morality? You’re just a boy.”
“That may be so, but I know the difference between right and wrong.” Briefly he remembers Cersei’s voice talking quietly with another. Scheming and plotting. That is what Tyrion heard throughout Casterly Rock when he was left to his own devices. Supporting a man that killed innocent people on a whim was definitely wrong.
Before Selmy could even come up with a reply, Ashara interrupts them. “The captain says the weather bodes well for us. If the winds are kind we should be there in a week or two.”
Barristan stiffly nods. “Thank you, my lady. We couldn’t do this without you.” From the dock he could make out Allyria Dayne and the pale haired Edric who happily waved at the ship’s passengers. “Will Starfall be okay without you?”
“Do not worry about Starfall. It is in good hands.”
The yelling of the dockhands up to the crew alerts them that the ship is about to set sail. A childish sense of wonder seizes Tyrion as he watches the sailors hurriedly get to work. The hubbub of commands was enthralling as they stood off to the side.
“Is this your first time sailing, Vaiko?”
“Yes my lady.” His glittering eyes are still trained on the busy crew. The joy of a child was infectious as both Ashara and Barristan enjoyed gazing at Tyrion. Another painful reminder to the knight of the boy’s restricted upbringing. He was experiencing so much; things that anyone else at that age had already experienced.
“Why do you look sad?” Her question makes Selmy jump partially as he had been stuck in his own melancholy thoughts.
He tells the partial truth. “Before becoming my squire, Vaiko didn’t have a good life. His father resented him due to his dwarfism and hid him away from the world.”
Brows furrow looking at the happy boy now. “How terrible. Some people are so small minded, especially in Westeros.”
Not disagreeing with that statement, guilt starts to ebb at him; recalling how Tyrion had glared at him accusingly moments ago.
Sailing away from Starfall’s docks, it soon becomes but a small blur behind them. Now for the difficult part of their journey. Sitting and doing nothing for a week. It’ll at least give Tyrion a good opportunity to practice his sword play and maybe Selmy could teach him how to properly utilize that small knife of his as well. In a fight, a knife wasn’t completely useless, just tricky and possibly dangerous if one doesn’t know what they’re doing. The most important thing was adapting to Tyrion’s height and teaching him how to utilize it to his advantage. Barristan prided himself on his patience that helped greatly in figuring out a proper training lesson for Tyrion. He would not fail this boy like his father had. When they returned to Westeros, Tyrion would have everything he needed to survive on his own.
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dragoneyes618 · 2 years
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Theory: The other Isle children encouraged Mal and Uma’s rivalry
Because seriously, eternal hatred because of a bucket of shrimp is kind of extreme, isn’t it?
But the other Isle children would have had what to benefit if they were no longer friends.
Think about it. Mal and her group of friends: Mal, the half-fae, the daughter of Maleficent who rules the Isle. Jay, half-djinn - and even besides for that, since it didn’t matter on the Isle, master thief and liar, who could find his way into and talk his way out of anything, and steal everything you had on you while he was at it. Evie, who like Jay could charm her way out of anything, except instead of glib lies she uses her beautiful looks. Carlos, who was terrified of everything, especially his mother, but who’s a tech whiz and a lot smarter than he was given credit for.
Then there’s Uma and her friends. Uma herself - daughter of the sea witch Ursula - on an island surrounded by the ocean, she was probably able to draw on some residue of power. Not to mention she became a pirate captain for a reason. Harry, only son of Captain James Hook, with his father’s rage and madness and a hook to boot. Gil, Gaston’s youngest son, with his father’s brawn and willing to follow orders to the letter.
Imagine if all of them joined forces. They would be unstoppable. The Isle would be theirs.
...Which the other Isle kids would not have been so happy about.
Together, they are a threat.
Divided, they are...well, not weak, certainly, but not as strong of a threat either. Mal’s busy with her thing, and Uma’s busy with her thing, and they’re too busy sniping at each other to think of uniting, combining their territories, and then advancing on the rest of the Isle.
So the other Isle kids encouraged their rivalry. It wouldn’t have had to be much; just a couple of pirate kids stopping by Ursula’s Fish and Chips and telling Uma, “No way you’re going to let her get away with that!” or some of the witches telling Mal, “Serves Uma right, what you did to her hair.”
Enough of these comments for long enough, every so often...
They were driven apart, any chance at reconciling their childhood friendship long gone.
And everyone knows how the story ended.
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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 2 years
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Don't Worry Darling: Baby Review/Theories!
I have so many thoughts after the pre-screening. THIS MIGHT HAVE DWD SPOILERS (barely) BUT I’M SEEING TOO MANY MISINTERPRETATIONS OF THE CONCEPTS AND WANT TO ADDRESS IT SO…
READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
Review/Plot & PR Theories...
Olivia Wilde talks about “female pleasure” being at the forefront of this film. And because of the trailer and snippets we got I think we all took that as a statement of female pleasure sexually. And again, the marketing eluded to this as well. But I genuinely think that was all intentional and we all ran with it.
When Florence then shared that people were just focusing on Harry eating 🐱 I don't think it was a dig at Olivia, but more of a statement that we were focusing on the wrong thing as an audience (and maybe even as a fandom).
I think the concept and perception of female pleasure was certainly at the forefront of the film as was promised. It's about what we as females are groomed to believe our pleasure should be. Not just sexually, but the pleasures of life we are encouraged to believe we deserve. Deserving is very key to the film (as you may have seen or will see). The idea of men being the providers and keeping us safe, taking care of us, being obsessed and in love with us, doing the most for us. Making women feel that men being in control is an act of kindness & chivalry. This film sheds a light on how society expects women to accept & applaud benevolent sexism as men doing “the most” to please women.
At the beginning I said that it was intentional for the statement of "female pleasure" to be misconstrued as just being about sexual pleasure. And just the reactions people are having to the statement after watching the film proves that point. Yes, there was female focused sexual pleasure, but because that's what needed to happen in the story to keep Alice "happy", or so that's what Jack thinks is a key part of Alice's happiness. And Olivia making that statement and everyone thinking that she was just talking about sex just proves how much we (even women) are trained to accept something as basic as sexual pleasure to be what encapsulates what female pleasure actually means. And then we get this whole view of what is actually happening (in the film) and it is upsetting to think back on that statement made by a woman and then think that our pleasure can be watered down to just that. I'm telling you, this was intentional, and I think she's way smarter than people give her credit for.
I do wish there was more of a backstory as to how our MC's fell into their situation. But the montage of clips re: Alice & Jack's backstory are certainly enough to clue you in as to how they ended up where they did. The film can't address everything (though I would've watched a 4hour film if it had been that because it was just so beautiful) and the plot was certainly more watered down than the original script (this is an adaption by Katie Silberman), but I think it did it's job in getting you to think about the reality we are in and just how much we might still be controlled or influenced by a male-serving society.
Also, it touches on the dangers of toxic masculinity and really gets you thinking about incel culture and gender roles/expectation. I think the point was to bring awareness and not to give answers or address it. Just to pique one's interest enough to investigate for ourselves and understand that things like that exist! Obvs not to the extent of the film, but that people out there think this way and that the opportunity would be seized by some if it were given. In light of that, this film is certainly about female power and claiming back their lives! And the cherry on top is that the ending was perfect. Just giving you that glimpse of hope that what comes next for Alice is only up to Alice to decide. Not even the audience is privy to the next steps.
It was super well done and twisted and I can't wait to see what else Olivia and Katie can produce if they continue working together.
HARR'YS ACTING...
people are still saying he was awkward, seems uncomfortable to be there, is trying too hard and YES, he was but that's exactly how it's supposed to come across. In my opinion he understood the assignment 100%. After seeing the full film it's clear that Jack really is trying to believe and convince himself that what he is doing isn't wrong. He's acting his ass off to Alice & himself, not to the audience. He is trying to be the absolute best and do the absolute most before it all goes to shit. Because really, it is just a matter of time before something goes wrong and he knows that.
I think that Harry replacing Shia was practically a blessing in disguise. I think Shia is an incredible actor, but he would have been far too convincing from the start and would have lacked that naiveté that Harry brought to the role of Jack. Because, really from the get go you know that something is wrong and I think that's the point?
Like the era the film is set in is one that we often associate with optimism and ease, but even just historically we know that this isn't the fact - so I think it's important that from the beginning you understood that just because it looks good, it doesn't mean that it is good. In a sense, it's about trusting your gut; when something feels off, it often is. And honestly, that's all female hysteria is about! Being gaslit into believing that your gut is wrong! And everyone in Victory is there to make life so easy for the women that they don't need to be concerned for anything or even to think. And again, I think it's supposed to be quick and obvious that something is off about Victory.
THE PLANE...
I think this was Alice's first "hallucination" or sign of her waking up. The plane crash wasn't real - she didn't see any debris when she got to HQ, remember. Also, it can't be real unless it was something that was done on purpose in the simulation, which wasn't the vibe I was getting from it. I believe that scene happens after Bunny, Peg, & Alice experience that earthquake together and have talked about what happened to Margaret and her son, also they were neighbors and she'd seen Margaret with the red toy plane. So obviously, that stuck in Alice's mind and I saw it as her subconscious trying to clue to her that something was wrong beyond Victory. I think the plane is just an omen/metaphor that represents this "perfect world" they're in and how it's all about to come crashing down. Red is a color associated with warnings and danger, which is also why I think it isn't any other color and it stands out so much in comparison to all of the other colors used in the palette in the film. I'm of the belief that directors deliberately use symbols and objects like that as an element of foreshadowing in films, so in my opinion the plane was a lot more meaningful symbolically than literally.
SHELLEY (Gemma Chan)...
I didn't read too much into Shelley & Frank when I saw the film. But from what I saw in the film she clearly was in on the whole thing! She knows it's a simulation and how it works. This is proved by her killing Frank, like Bunny explained to Alice, if he dies in Victory, he dies in real life and homegirl knew that! She certainly was complacent in the idea of what he was doing because she was training the women to be more submissive and organized and then when she kills him she says "you stupid boy" or something like that, like he had gotten too arrogant and fucked it up. So maybe it was her intention to continue running the sim but better? Or maybe she was just acting that way to survive and took her chance to get rid of him and get out when it came? Maybe I'll rewatch it again and pay more attention to their dynamic because I really was just focused on Alice x Jack & Bunny x Dean. I also say Bunny & Dean because from the beginning I was suspish about Bunny & Dean!
THE LULLABY...
I found it very interesting how everything that triggered Alice's "awakening" was that song Jack sang to Alice. As we saw, he'd sing it to her while she was in the sim and that was planting her subconscious to reality. Jack didn't even know it, but he was bleeding the two worlds together and ultimately he was the reason she was able to go free as he also taught her how to drive (they said at the start that none of the other wives knew how). I made that connection because in Stranger Things this season they referred to same psychological phenomenon to tie victims in to their reality and escape Vecna.
I think during the whole film Jack was acting weird because he knows that what he's doing is fucked up and I think he does want to be honest with her and have her accept to be in the sim with him. He clearly loved Alice, but he was so insecure and twisted. But in a way, it's like he was kind of hoping she'd figure it out and I think he thought that like Bunny & Dean, they could be that couple that were both on board with it and made that alternate universe their ultimate happy ending.
THE EGGS!
I just realized that the eggs are empty because she’s not really eating. This was another little “wake up call” moment while she was in the sim! Like they’re not actually eating. Their brain thinks they are eating real food - that’s why Jack is like “no tuna for me, thanks!” - because it still feels like they’re eating BUT ITS NOT REAL FOOD!
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asjjohnson · 1 year
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Part 12 of my poll adventure fic. Links: the beginning, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11.
---
It wasn't like he had to stay in the dark on this secret. He could just eavesdrop on the class and figure out why they wanted him gone.
The only reason Dan could think of was his disguise failing. They knew he was a ghost.
But... a look at his distorted reflection in the waxed hallway floor under his feet showed a normal human. Hair and eye colors purposefully unlike Dan himself or Danny Fenton. Green eyes instead of red or blue. Light blond hair instead of flames or black hair.
And the humans couldn't have sensed him. He had successfully blended in back when he'd disguised himself as his past self before.
So what was it?
With a quick glance around to make sure the hallway was completely empty, he turned invisible and intangible, and flew through the wall.
Over half of the kids were gathered around the windows. A loud murmur of conversation filled the room, making it harder to hear individual sentences.
'Phantom' was said a lot. Phantom being cool. Phantom fighting. Phantom being dreamy.
He did not need to hear that last one.
"Settle down, class. Settle down," Lancer said over the hum of conversation. "The ghost is being dealt with, and Mr. Fantom can catch up on classwork when he returns."
Dash raised his hand as he turned from the window, saying, "Can I help him catch up?!"
"No, he doesn't need any of your h—!" Sam began.
"Shut up, Manson!" Paulina said. "I should get to help him, too—right Mr. Lancer?"
The rest of the class started talking at once.
"The Comedy of Errors! Everyone sit down," Lancer ordered.
The sound of talking transitioned to footsteps and scraping chair legs as the children returned to their seats.
Once it was quiet, Lancer said, "You may catch him up, Mr. Baxter. But only if there is something to catch him up on. Now, let's return to the lesson."
Still hovering near the ceiling, Dan thought on the confusing mess he'd just overheard.
It had been hard to tell when someone was talking about Phantom or when they were talking about Fantom, or about Fenton.
He'd assumed they were all talking about his past self's ghost persona when they had been at the window.
And Lancer must have been talking about Dan when he'd mentioned catching up on class, but the sudden change in subject between Phantom and Fantom was strange.
But the following argument didn't seem to be about Dan. But it also didn't make sense for his past self's human side or ghost side.
Sam must have been thinking of his past self. Her and Tucker's earlier suspicion toward Dan proved she wouldn't feel protective toward him.
But Dash and Paulina wouldn't have volunteered to help Danny Fenton, and they had shared barely a few words with Dan's disguise so far. But they couldn't have been talking about Danny Phantom because he wasn't a student!
It would be so much easier to tell who was talking about who if the three personas didn't all have nearly the same name!
...Wait.
Dan had decided on going by 'Dan Fantom' because 'Phantom' resonated with him. Phantom was the name he had gone by ever since the portal accident, and it had followed him faithfully through the following decade.
Like when he had first decided on going by 'Danny Phantom' after the accident, when he decided to finish school, he'd wanted a name similar enough to his own to recognize easily. He hadn't wanted to get used to a meaningless, completely random new name.
And, since Jazz had been the only exception to people not noticing the similarity between 'Fenton' and 'Phantom', he figured he would also remain unknown.
But perhaps he had been mistaken.
Maybe the humans were smarter than he had given them credit for.
...Maybe the entire class thought of him and his past self as a singular being.
---
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