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lowkeychenle · 4 months

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See My Sea [ZCL] (M)

Description: You never expected your lab partner to be the captain of the basketball team...or a decent human being, but you get proved wrong twice. Despite a rocky past of your own, you find yourself falling for him faster than you thought. Maybe, with his help, you can finally find your way home and see your sea.

A/N: this is inspired by Marine Turtle sort of ??? it just gave me these vibes oops. HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!! I hope u take this fic with u into 2024 lol

Genre: Fluff/Smut/Angst (College AU where Chenle is captain of the basketball team like he DESERVES)

Content Warnings: SLOW BURN! Drinking, alcohol, intoxication, some instances of friends being shitty, verbally abusive ex-boyfriend appearances, mentions/instances of anxiety and insecurity, a panic attack Smut warnings: This might be some of my mildest smut omg, usage of pet names 'baby' and 'sunshine,' oral (f & m receiving), slight dirty talk? there's not much rip

Word Count: 20,040

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!Reader (feat. Mark & Jisung, a male OC named Woojin, and three female OCs, Soobin, Jiyoon, & Heewon)

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

Taglist: @carelessshootanonymous @thisisnotjacinta @soberhani @fullsunstrawberry @midmourn

“I think your answer’s wrong,” the boy next to you says, leaning over your shoulder to look.

You blink in frustration, already hating the new seating arrangement your college professor forced upon you. When you turn to give him your best glare, you hesitate for a brief moment when you see the genuine concern on his face.

His black hair is draped like a curtain over his forehead, just a bit too long. Soft brown eyes stare back at you, unblinking for several seconds as he scans over your expression. His lips are slightly parted as if he wants to continue, but isn’t sure what to say.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “It’s just…if you get it wrong, it kind of affects me now, too.”

“Why would it affect you?” You recoil and slide your paper farther from him.

“This…is a lab.” He frowns. “And that makes us lab partners for the foreseeable future.”

“Ah, great.” You close your eyes and drop your head into your hands.

“I’m trying to help,” he replies.

“Well, I actually prefer to work alone.”

You don’t know exactly where your snippiness is coming from, but you don’t appreciate this random ass guy trying to correct your work. He could’ve at least introduced himself first instead of immediately selecting the douchebag category.

“I don’t think we really have a choice.” He taps his fingers on top of the table. “Sorry if I pissed you off, I was just…”

He clicks his tongue, presses his lips into a thin line, and his eyebrows jolt up quickly before he turns away from you and back to his own work. You take a deep breath, your heart sinking at the idea of snapping at him when he didn’t deserve it.

It’s taken you a long time to get used to people genuinely trying to help you, and your brain sometimes doesn’t get the memo that not everything is a derogatory comment.

“Sorry,” you say softly, inhaling deeply. “You were being nice. And I’m being a bitch.”

“I wouldn’t use that word.” He snorts as he scribbles down some words on his paper.

“Seriously?”

“I don’t like using it in a bad way.” He sets his pencil down and runs his fingers through his hair to push it back.

You laugh. “Don’t men find things like that funny?”

“What kind of guys are you talking to?” The boy scrunches up his nose and shakes his head.

“I…” You pause, pursing your lips. That’s a good question. “But really, I am sorry. I hope we can rewind and work together.”

“Luckily for you, I don’t hold grudges.” He grins and holds his hand out to you. “I’m Chenle. I’m a senior getting a degree in music theory and I’m the captain of the basketball team.”

You think about the information for a second—he seems like a nice person from what you’ve seen thus far, but the basketball team makes him lose a couple points. Most boys in college sports don’t have the best reputations.

Your palm meets his as you take his greeting. “I’m (Y/N). I’m also a senior, but my degree is in Fine Arts. And I’m the captain of embarrassing myself and my friends.”

He chuckles at that one before brandishing his paper over to you.

“What?” you ask.

“I’m gonna help you figure out the right answer.” Chenle beckons you closer.

You hesitate for a moment, but eventually decide nothing will happen in the middle of your science lab. Scooting your chair over to his, you allow him to lean toward you. You ignore the nervousness gathering as the scent of his cologne invades your nostrils. It smells smoky, but in an artificial way. You doubt the man has ever touched anything bad for him in his entire life.

“This one is easy to fuck up,” he murmurs, his pencil scratching against the paper as he leads you through it.

You attempt to pay attention, but as much as you hate to admit it, the smell of him is intoxicating and him being near you has every single one of your senses on edge. Sweat starts to form on your skin, and you almost curse under your breath.

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, looks back at the paper, and then his gaze rests back on you, like whatever he saw during his first sweep caught his attention.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

You blink, frowning at him. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Uh.” He wets his lips, his cheeks reddening slightly beneath fluorescent lighting. “You’re staring at me instead of the answer I’m giving you.”

Embarrassment rushes through you like a wildfire in a dry forest, and you immediately snatch the assignment away from him and move your chair away. Disbelief wracks your body, because you only realize at that moment that he’s right—you were much more interested in his facial features and the softness of his skin instead of the only reason you let him around you in the first place.

It’s been a long time since anyone has distracted you in that way. All it does is make you want to run away at full speed, but there’s still a few minutes of class left.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to offend you or anything.”

“Just…forget it.” You shake your head. “I’ll figure this out so you don’t lose points.”

“And then what?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Huh?”

“It’s not only this assignment.” Chenle taps his fingers against the desk. “It’s all of them. And I don’t want to be a dick, but I’m kind of used to people staring at me.”

You laugh incredulously, dropping your head into your palms. “The universe has fucked me.”

He doesn’t respond, seemingly waiting for you to continue whatever’s on your mind.

“That was kinda douchey.” You fidget with your pencil.

“It’s not douchey if it’s true.” He scoffs. “And I haven’t even done anything to you, so I don’t understand where this hostility has come from after being around me for ten minutes.”

“I just don’t like—”

“Men?” he interjects.

“You.”

“Okay, well.” He rolls his eyes, inhaling deeply. “I don’t know what your problem is. Did I breathe incorrectly in your direction? I’m trying to help you and you’re not being nice at all. You were the one staring at me, I feel like I should remind you of that.”

“I was not star—”

“Alright, class, your lab assignments have been finalized. You’ll be working with your partner for the rest of the semester, and if there are any issues, you’re adults. Figure it out. The first set of problems will be due tomorrow at the start of class,” the teacher interrupts your thoughts, and leaves both you and Chenle gaping.

“Professor, I have a basketball game tonight—”

“Well, then you’d better finish the worksheet early, Mr. Zhong,” she insists.

“For fuck’s sake,” Chenle murmurs under his breath, running his fingers through his hair. Stress melds through his expression as his brows pinch together, and it almost makes you feel bad for him.

You know next to nothing about basketball. In fact, you weren’t 100% aware your school even had a team.

After he takes a second to calm down, he turns to you. “What are you doing for lunch?”

“I meet my friends every day.” You shrug.

“Oh, great. I’m coming with you.” He starts shoving things into his bag, not giving you a second to comprehend what he’s saying.

“It wasn’t an invitation,” you say.

“I’m not failing because of you.” Chenle sets his bag down on the table. “I don’t know what I did to give you such a bad impression, but you haven’t done much better yourself, okay? The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can worry about getting to practice on time.”

“Practice? I thought it was a game.”

He stares at you blankly, blinking slowly. “I…I practice before my games.” His tone is sharp, as if he expects you to know that already.

“You’re the captain.”

“No shit.” Irritation sparks in his gaze. “Which means I have to be good. And prepared.”

“Now who’s being a dick?” you shoot back. “Am I supposed to just know everything about you already?”

“This…is going to be fucking impossible.” He massages his forehead and takes a deep breath. “We’ll try to finish it in the next ten minutes before class ends, then.”

Spoiler alert, you don’t finish by the end of class, which means, unfortunately for you, you drag Chenle in tow with you to lunch, where your three friends wait for you. The girls are distracted in their conversation as you approach, and you already know what their reaction will be.

“(Y/N), you’re finally here—who’s this?” Alarm flares in Jiyoon’s brown eyes as she glances back behind you at Chenle as if you don’t know he’s there.

“You don’t know him?” Heewon asks. “Pretty sure that’s Zhong Chenle, you know, the captain of the basketball team. He’s friends with your boyfriend.”

“I’ve never seen him before.”

“Yeah, he’s right here.” You nudge Soobin’s arm so she’ll scoot over. “So if you could maybe not act like he’s not.”

“Why is he with you?” Soobin asks.

“It’s not by choice,” you grumble, dramatically gesturing to the seat next to you. “Did you guys eat yet?”

“I’m invading,” Chenle says. “I’ll go buy lunch, alright? Pizza good for everyone?”

“What? You don’t have to—”

“Just answer the question,” he says.

“Pizza’s good.” Jiyoon grins. “Thanks, Chenle.”

He presses his lips together, grabs his wallet out of his backpack, nods at you, and then heads in the opposite direction. You know the second he’s out of earshot, the girls won’t let this go. They apparently know more about him than you do, which isn’t all that surprising.

Jiyoon started dating Jisung a few weeks back, and while you’re happy for your friend (and the fact her boyfriend isn’t the worst man ever), you could never justify wasting your valuable time on anyone else right now.

“Yeah, just walk in with Zhong Chenle and don’t warn us first—”

“I didn’t even know he was a big deal. Or that he’d be coming for lunch,” you defend yourself. “We’re lab partners, and apparently, we’re being forced to work together.”

“He’s not a bad guy,” Jiyoon says. “From what I’ve heard from Jisung, he’s really passionate about basketball and stuff. So like, he takes it seriously. He’s not an ass.”

“That’s not what I’ve experienced.” You roll your eyes, wishing more than anything they would stop before they’re ahead.

“I get you’re in your ‘I hate men era’ or whatever, and I respect it, but you’re allowed to be friends with good guys. You’ll be hanging out around the team soon, anyway. Jisung wants to get our friend groups together.”

“Maybe Jisung isn’t awful, but you know how sports guys are.” You almost shiver involuntarily at the thought.

“Jisung wouldn’t hang around assholes, (Y/N),” Heewon interjects. “You haven’t met him. The kid’s an angel. You morph into the people you’re around, and if he was around dicks, he’d act like one. Or have a single red flag, at least.”

“And, to be honest, some of the team has been mentioned in some sketchy situations, but I’ve heard good things about Chenle, Jisung, and Mark. They’re not man-whores, and they—”

“Glad to hear that’s a criteria for being a good guy.” Chenle’s voice nearly sends Soobin’s soul out of her body.

Her cheeks and the tips of her ears turn bright red, and she quickly mutters out an apology.

He puts the box in the middle of the table, a small chuckle passing by his full lips as he takes a seat next to you. “No worries. I’ll pass the message to Mark. He’ll get a good laugh out of it, considering he’s probably got the highest body count on the team.”

You shift away from him slightly, this topic of conversation not entirely helping your situation with him.

“Mark?” Jiyoon snorts. “Mark Lee?”

“Surprisingly, I don’t know any other Mark.” Chenle grins. “But not every guy is vocal about how much he gets laid. Girls throw themselves at him—”

You tense, wanting nothing more than for the conversation to stop. Chenle cuts himself off, a minuscule glance in your direction making his eyebrows pinch before his poker face returns.

“Anyway, pizza.” He clears his throat, gesturing to the box.

“Wow. Mark Lee.” Heewon runs her tongue over her teeth. “And what does a girl have to do to get on that donation list?”

Jiyoon elbows her, nodding in your direction. An odd silence fills the table before Soobin opens the box and grabs the first slice. Your appetite has oddly disappeared, and none of your friends seem to realize it.

Chenle continues his conversation with Jiyoon—something about Jisung and the practice dates—but while he does that, his pen scratches across the paper on the table in front of you, and when he slides it in your direction, it’s almost unnoticeable.

you should eat

You nearly scoff, grabbing a pencil out of your bag to write your response while your friends still cluelessly converse.

not hungry

“You know, we’re having a party after the game,” Chenle mentions. “You guys should come. Assuming we win, it’ll be time for celebration.”

“Oh, you’ll win.” Jiyoon’s eyes widen. “I’ve seen clips of games online and stuff. Mostly Jisung’s. But if you’re all that good, I can’t imagine you’d lose.”

“Glad to see you’re as obsessed with him as he is with you.” He chuckles and runs his fingers through his hair. “You should all go.”

His gaze rests on you, and Soobin laughs outwardly.

“(Y/N) doesn’t go to parties.”

“Why not?” He frowns.

“It’s a long story,” you interject before any of your friends can spill your secrets. “But maybe it’s time for a change. I’ll go. If Jiyoon is going and if she promises not to ditch me for Jisung.”

“Oh, please, you haven’t been to a party since before Wooj—” Heewon stops herself with a hand over her mouth. She cringes as your chest deflates.

Leave it to your friends to rehash old wounds. You already had a shitty day between your random argument with Chenle, him tagging along with you for lunch, and now Heewon is basically telling him your secrets buried deep.

“Um,” you say, sighing. “We have an assignment to do. Do you want to go to the library or something?” When you turn to look at Chenle, he’s already gathering his things and shoving his materials in his bag.

“Yeah, sure.” His eyes scan over the table. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“(Y/N), I didn’t—”

“Not now, Heewon.” You shake your head, slinging your bag over your shoulder and heading off without another word.

It’s been many, many months since Woojin was in your life. The man who essentially tore your life apart little by little until there wasn’t anything of the real you left. You were a shell of who you used to be, and it took you much too long to realize it. Hell, you’re not 100% sure if you’ve even brought yourself back from that brink. It’s hard to figure out who you are when the person who’s supposed to love you not only drags you down to the bottom of the ocean, but buries you beneath the sand.

But none of your friends get it. They see who you are now—a mask of confidence shielding the gaping open wound—and assume you’re normal again.

Healing isn’t a straight line. You don’t wake up one day and decide to be okay, and admittedly, there are some mornings that are better than others. For most, you find it hard to come up with a reason to pull yourself out of bed.

Chenle follows you silently as you walk across campus for the library. He walks side-by-side with you and stops once he sees the cafe come into view.

“Hey, I’m gonna get some coffee,” he says. “Come with?”

“Uh, yeah. We can just do the work in there, if that’s okay.”

He gives you a half smile and nods, gesturing toward the building for you to lead the way. Once you make it to the door, he opens it for you. You frown, but walk in regardless.

“I’ll get it. What do you usually order?” he asks.

“Oh, no, that’s okay.” You wave him off. “I can get my own—”

“Tell me.” His tone is soft, yet firm, as if you don’t really have any other option but to tell him what coffee you want.

With a sigh, you tell him your order and he walks off with a smug smile on his face. You set all of your stuff up on one of the tables, deciding which questions you need to work on first while you wait for Chenle.

He places a cup in front of you before clasping both hands around his own. Standing there, he doesn’t move until you look up at him, wondering why the hell he isn’t sitting down.

“Can we start over?” he asks. “We clearly got off on the wrong foot, and I don’t want you to hate the entire semester if you’ve got to work with me.”

You pause, clearing your throat. “I’d prefer it that way, I think. If we started over, I mean. I was kind of a bitch, and it wasn’t even your fault, I just…have some issues with trusting people.”

“I noticed.” He chuckles, a grin plastering on his face as he takes his seat across from you. “And I still don’t like that word.”

“Sorry. I was being an ass. Is that better?”

“Yeah, it is. You were an ass.” He sips his drink.

You press your lips together to stop your laugh, but it doesn’t prevent your eyes from rolling.

“And I’m sorry, too. If I made you uncomfortable earlier. Or if I did, indeed, do something to make you hate me randomly.” His fingertips tap against the table. “It really wasn’t my intention.”

“It’s not you. At all.” You scoff to yourself, flipping through the stack of papers before you. “I don’t want to talk about it. But I’ll try to remind myself people are innocent until proven guilty.”

“So…you’ll come tonight?” Chenle hesitates briefly, wetting his lips. “You could come to the game, too. I’m sure Jiyoon would like someone to sit with besides Jisung’s parents.”

“I know nothing about basketball,” you reply, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Well, yeah, but you could always learn. And now you have friends on the team, so it doesn’t matter if you know or not.” He grabs the first assignment to look at it, pretending as if your answer doesn’t impact him.

You think about it for a moment. After all, maybe you were wrong about him—maybe he’s not some awful guy, and you were wrong to assume that after knowing him for five minutes. The longer you spend time with him, the more genuine he seems. You could use more friends, but you can’t help but wonder if Chenle is the type of guy you should entertain.

Woojin had you fucked up. Between the sports teams and friend groups and everything that went wrong with him, it was so hard to even imagine being friends with Chenle or any of the other guys on the basketball team.

“I’ll think about it,” you mutter. “Don’t get your hopes up about the game, but I’ll be at the party for sure.”

“Party’s a strong word, by the way. It’s just the team and our close friends, so it won’t be like…a rager or anything.”

You nod, chewing the inside of your cheek. “Alright. We should get started before we run out of time again.”

You weren’t planning on going to the game. Not in the slightest. But when the time got closer and closer to seven, you realized there was an odd urge within you that made you want to go. You made the split second decision to text Jiyoon and tell her to pick you up.

Jiyoon brought you a shirt to wear—a simple school T-shirt that said the basketball team’s name on it—and insisted you change before the two of you left. You did as she said, and by the time you got to the gym, you were almost regretting your decision.

You and Jiyoon sat in the bottom row right in the middle. There goes the opportunity to pretend you weren’t there. Maybe he wouldn’t see you. He’ll be too focused on the game, and he won’t even give you a second glance. You’re not sure why the idea of him knowing you’re here makes you so God damn sweaty, but you choose to ignore it.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jiyoon asks, nudging your arm.

“Huh? Nothing.” You shake your head. “I’m good.”

She clicks her tongue. “I’ve been your friend for years, (Y/N). You look nervous.”

“I don’t think I should really be here, I guess, like…I was an ass to him earlier, and now I’m sitting here like I know what I’m watching and like I belong here when he probably doesn’t even like me at all—”

“Dude, you’re rambling,” she cuts you off, placing her palm on your shoulder. “You said he was the one who told you to come. So I don’t think being unwelcome is your problem. Everything’s gonna be fine! I promise. I give you full permission to stare at Jisung the whole time if you have to.”

“He’s not my type.”

“Is anyone at this point?”

“I…” You purse your lips. “I guess you’re right.”

You’re surprised to see the seats fill up quickly, and despite Jiyoon only dating Jisung for a few weeks, she seems really friendly with both of his parents as they sit down in the two spots next to her. Jiyoon leans close to you.

“The couple that just sat down next to Jisung’s parents are Chenle’s parents. Ji and Chenle have been friends since they were really young, I guess,” Jiyoon explains.

Curiosity gets the best of you, and when you look at them, you try to figure out which one he resembles the most. His mother turns and meets your gaze, and you quickly avert it as your face burns. What the hell are you doing?

You wait in anxious silence with Jiyoon until the game begins, and your eyes immediately seek out Chenle. At first, you think you’re looking for Jisung so you can point him out to Jiyoon, but you’re still watching the boys enter the court long after Jisung is already out.

When Chenle makes it out on the court, the wide smile on his face takes you off-guard. There’s no denying the truth—he’s attractive. That’s the extent of what you know about him at this point, but you see plenty of attractive men every day. It’s not like they’ve ever garnered your attention in a way that made you want to watch them.

Unlike earlier, his hair is part down the middle now, probably from running around in practice and preparing for the game. He runs his fingers through it as he walks up to Jisung. The taller man was already standing with their other friend, who you can only assume is Mark. Chenle’s jersey has his last name printed in big letters on the back, along with the number 30.

You try not to study him, but somehow he’s like a damn magnet. No wonder he said he was used to people staring at him.

Jisung glances once in your direction, and then he nudges Chenle and gives him a nearly non-existent nod. He turns, and the second he sees you, his brows jump up in some sort of surprise. Then he grins at you.

“You’re being weird,” Jiyoon mentions, breaking you out of your trance.

“Huh? How am I being weird? He looked at me.”

“Yeah…because he invited you. And you’re here.” She snorts, running her fingers through her hair. “Speaking of which, I think he’s coming over here.”

Your eyes widen, and your head shoots up just in time to see Chenle jogging over to you. You have to crane your neck upward to look at him when he’s right in front of you, and you’re sure the shock on your face is what causes laughter to drop past his lips.

He pulls a simple bracelet off his wrist—one made with blue and gold thread—and holds it out to you. “Wear this for me?”

You blink up at him. “Why?”

“If you wear it and we win, you’re our good luck charm,” he states simply.

Your cheeks burn (hopefully unnoticeably) as you gently take it out of his palm. Your fingertips brush against his skin despite how hard you tried to avoid touching him, and once it’s completely in your hand, he backs away from you as Jiyoon helps you tighten it around your wrist.

“Are we gonna—” Jiyoon starts.

“Say nothing,” you cut her off. “Not a single word about that.”

She giggles to herself. When the game is about to begin, Jiyoon leans forward, hyperfocused on Jisung and the way he carries himself. You want to make fun of her for it, but you know she’ll come back tenfold with jokes about Chenle.

“Also,” Jiyoon whispers, getting closer to you without removing her gaze from the court. “He was totally fucking with you. He just wanted you to wear it. They haven’t lost a game this entire season, so.”

“Why would he do that?” you ask.

This time, she does look at you. She clasps her hands together and stares expectantly.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be ridiculous.” You scoff.

“Dude. His parents are five feet away and he just asked you to be his good luck charm. For a game everyone already knows they’re going to win.” She shakes her head. “Maybe he’ll be good for you.”

“It’s been a day. One day. And I didn’t like him at all for most of it.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t usually like any man on the first meeting, so cut him some slack.” She pats your knee. “But also, the game’s starting, so watch.”

Honestly, you’re not sure what you were expecting. It’s been a long time since you’ve been to a sporting event—especially so for a man, but you try to convince yourself you’re here to spend time with Jiyoon.

But you have to admit, watching Chenle weave around the court is intriguing. He moves with unmatched grace. It looks effortless despite the amount of work you know goes into it. You fiddle with the bracelet on your wrist, chewing on your bottom lip as you concentrate on the way he blocks shots from guys much taller or how he never misses when he passes the ball.

“Told you he was good,” Jiyoon says.

“Sh.” You wave her off.

At one point, Chenle attempts a shot from the middle of the court. You’re hanging onto the details like a lifeline, afraid to even blink and miss something. Much to your surprise, your heart thuds in your chest.

And when the ball goes straight into the net, something launches you to your feet next to Jiyoon as you cheer. Thankfully, the entire section stood, so you didn’t look ridiculous by yourself, but Chenle looks over at you, almost like he’s checking if you saw the points he scored.

You didn’t realize how wide the smile on your face was until you made eye contact with him. Clearing your throat, you brush off your jeans and sit back down in your seat.

“Come on,” Jiyoon whispers. “He’s like…ugh. You should see where it goes.”

Your face burns. “I just like sports, Ji, okay?”

“You dirty liar.” She snorts. “You guys are lab partners anyway, so good luck trying to avoid him. He’s a good guy, he plays sports, he’s smart as hell, and I heard he can sing, actually—”

“I get it,” you grumble. “I’m not interested.”

“You just screamed and cheered when he made the half-court shot. You’re interested.” Jiyoon laughs. “Whatever happens…just let yourself have it, okay? Have a good time. You deserve it.”

Chenle’s team absolutely dominated the other one. They barely scored a couple points the entirety of the game. He didn’t have time to talk to you right when the game finished, as he went back to the locker rooms with the team, but you figured you’d see him at the party anyway.

Mark, Chenle, and Jisung rent a house together near the school, so that’s where their get-togethers take place. He didn’t lie when he said it was more of an intimate get together—only a handful of people were there when you arrived. As much as you would deny looking for Chenle, you spent half an hour doing so, scanning the room back and forth to find his presence, and you were completely lost. On the bright side, Jisung was also MIA, meaning Jiyoon stuck by your side in the kitchen as you made yourself a drink.

You sigh quietly to yourself, the sound almost lost in the music from the living room as you brace your palm on the counter.

“You good?” Jiyoon asks.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been to a party,” you remind her. “You know what happened last time. It just feels…out of place, I guess.”

“Yeah, well, nothing’s gonna happen like last time,” your friend reassures you. “Regardless of who it could be, the guys would never be okay with something like that.”

You tap your fingers, resuming your scan of the room. “They’re not even here.”

“(Y/N).” Jiyoon’s tone catches you off-guard, almost like it’s a bit sharp and pricking at your skin. “I know you don’t know them, but they’re good, okay? They’d never let anything happen to anyone. Let alone someone like you.”

You tilt your cup to your lips, taking a big sip of the fruit punch. When you set it back down, you make eye contact with Chenle, his back pressed against the door frame with his arms over his chest. Your breath hitches at the sight of him. His hair is damp, forehead exposed as the strands stick to the sides of his face. He wears a simple black T-shirt, but something about the way it fits him has every logical thought racing out of your head.

You hated feeling this way. Like you were intimidated by him and the softness of his presence. He made your palms sweat and your mind whirl.

“I’m gonna go find Jisung,” Jiyoon speaks up, bolting past Chenle before you can stop her.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” Chenle pushes himself off the wall, walking over to the counter opposite of you, gaze soft as he looks you over. He hones in on the bracelet on your wrist before flicking his eyes back to yours.

“I probably won’t stay long.” You wet your lips and sigh. “I just feel off.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks.

“With you?” You blink at him.

He chuckles, running his fingers through his damp hair. “Yeah, with me. There’s a swing out on the patio if you’d feel better away from people. It’s kinda stuffy in here.”

“It’s your party, though,” you remind him. “You just won a game, Captain. That’s a big deal.”

“My lucky charm was there.” He glances down at your wrist again.

Your cheeks burn, and you clasp your hands together behind your back. “The patio sounds nice.”

He gives a small, satisfied grin, and makes his way toward the door to your left. He opens it and waits. You get the hint, shuffling past him to the backyard. His scent—a graceful blend of vanilla and sandalwood—wafts toward you, fresh and strong. Once again, your face reddens at the realization of how much attention you’re giving him.

The porch is wooden, the slats beneath your feet slightly creaking as you walk to the swing. You watch Chenle closely as he follows you, equally relieved and disappointed by how much distance he leaves between the two of you.

You sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, you crossing your legs and Chenle using his feet to propel forward and backward without ever leaving the ground.

Breathing in the night air, you relish in how fresh it feels filling your lungs. Inside, your worries swarmed you, but out here, you’re alright.

Chenle closes his eyes and leans his head back, allowing you a moment or two to appreciate more of him. Your gaze sweeps down his face and over his neck, and you wonder why you’re even paying attention to such things.

“Why don’t you like parties?” he asks.

“It’s not that I don’t like them.” You shrug and pick at the seams on your jeans. “A couple bad experiences just…makes you weary, you know?”

“Sure.” He pauses. “Thanks for coming, by the way. To the game. And the party, too. We didn’t really start off on the right foot, but I’m glad we didn’t leave it there.”

“Oh, speaking of which.” You push your wrist toward him, the blue and gold thread wrapped around it reflecting the light from the opposite side of the window. “You can have this back now.”

“What’ll I do without my good luck charm?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

You chuckle quietly and roll your eyes. “Jiyoon told me you guys don’t lose either way. I don’t think you need me.”

He tentatively wraps his fingers around your arm. Your gaze darts to his, the breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t expected the warmth from his touch, or the way you swore sparks just whizzed through your skin.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, giving you a gentle tug. “I’ll take it off if that’s what you want.”

You shuffle closer, and without much thought behind it, you’re nearly pressing against him, with your feet planted on the opposite side of his lap. You’re somehow not touching him still, but you’re engulfed in the body heat radiating off of him and the smell of his cologne.

He places your hand on top of your knee and twirls the bracelet around until he finds the knot. “Was it someone I know?” he asks, concentration taking over his tone.

“Who?”

“The guy that somehow convinced you not to go to parties anymore.” Chenle doesn’t look at you when he says it, he continues working away at the thread on your wrist.

“I don’t think so,” you reply, gulping as you pull away until the bracelet is out of his reach. “Not sure you really hang out with that crowd.”

He rests his hand on your knee, his face scrunched as he debates with himself what he should say. “I don’t know the full story, but nobody should control you. Especially not some dude who clearly is a prick. Whatever habits you picked up from him, I really hope you’re able to forget them and be who you want to be.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, not expecting the surge of emotions to hit you until your eyes start welling. You laugh at yourself, shaking your head and taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. For class today. I’ve learned it’s always better to assume the worst.”

“I noticed.” He smiles, tapping his fingers.

His feet keep the swing moving even with you positioned over him like this. You try to pretend you don’t feel the movement of his sweats against your jeans. What the hell’s gotten into you today?

“Keep the bracelet,” he says. “Can I give you my number? In case you ever need anything?”

You grab your phone out of your back pocket, unlock it, and hand it to him. “Just send yourself a text.” You lean closer while you watch his thumbs dance over the keyboard. His shoulder brushes yours, and when he finishes his text, he looks over at you.

You’re much nearer to him than you anticipated, gulping once you see the swirls of brown in his irises. He wets his lips, fingers splaying out further around your knee. Shifting toward you, he turns ever-so-slightly, his face only inches away from yours.

You’ve known him for less than twenty-four hours, but somehow, you find yourself wanting to kiss him. Maybe it’s from the way his full lips are parted, fresh mint on his breath, or perhaps it’s that odd craving of intimacy you’ve missed since you left Woojin in the first place.

“If you need anything,” he whispers. “Anything at all. Call me, okay?”

You nod, entranced by the little details of him that come together to make him who he is. The cologne. His finally-dried hair parted in the middle. The softness of his touch. His sympathetic stare that doesn’t feel at all like pity, but you can’t place how someone you just met could actually care about you.

“Sorry, for some reason, I just really, really want to—” He’s interrupted by the door opening, the music loud enough to make both of you freeze as if you’re doing something wrong.

“(Y/N), are you out here? Jiyoon said she left you alo—oh.” Soobin halts as soon as she sees you and Chenle. She blinks a few times, like that’ll change the sight in front of her.

“Where’s Heewon?” you ask.

“She went upstairs with Mark.”

Chenle snorts, scratching his forehead. “Girl knows what she wants, huh?”

“She’s not shy,” you reply.

“Are you ready to go?” Soobin asks. “Pretty sure Jiyoon plans on staying with Jisung, so I’m ready if you are.”

Disappointment floods your chest at the thought of cutting your conversation with Chenle short. You look at him to ask what he’d prefer.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow?”

He smiles softly. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

You not-so-gracefully swing your legs over his lap to reach the ground, stopping once you’re on your feet to glance back at him. “You sure you don’t want the bracelet back?”

“I like how it looks on you,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s all yours.”

You give him one last smile, and then you walk past Soobin inside. She leads you through the house to the front door, and it’s only when you’re in her car that she looks at you expectantly.

“What was that?” she asks you.

“What was what?”

She glares at you. “Oh, come on. You were on top of him. Your faces were so close I thought I was about to witness you kissing a man.”

“I was not about to kiss Chenle.” You give her a pointed look.

“Oh, my God, and now the man has a name?” Soobin’s face scrunches up. “First, Jiyoon starts dating Jisung, second, Heewon is hopping on Mark’s dick, and I really thought I’d be safe with you, but Chenle?”

“There’s nothing going on between me and him,” you remind her. “He’s my lab partner. And I’m allowed to have friends.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but your phone dings obnoxiously in your lap. You look at it, and when you see the contact name Chenle gave himself, you chuckle.

“Who is it?” Soobin asks.

“Oh, it’s…” you trail off, annoyance creeping in when you realize the reaction you just had to him. “It’s Chenle.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” She lets out an exasperated groan. “I’ve already lost the war.”

The next few weeks pass by. You see Chenle in class every day, and he somehow convinced you to go to the games he had over that span of time. Jiyoon hadn’t lied to you—they simply do win every game they have.

It became normal for not only Chenle to eat lunch with you, Heewon, Jiyoon, and Soobin, but Mark and Jisung, too. Seeing Mark actively talking to and hanging out with Heewon shocked you, but you were pleasantly surprised.

You’d grown quite accustomed to Chenle and his friendship, to the point where he always sat next to you, so close that your legs touched. His bracelet was still latched around your wrist. You rarely took it off, and when you did, the second you were able to put it back on, you did.

Jiyoon rests her head on Jisung’s shoulder, and his arm loops around her waist and pulls her tight. Mark whispers something to Heewon, who giggles and pushes his shoulder gently. Soobin sits next to you and Heewon, but the more the latter giggles, the closer to you Soobin scoots.

“(Y/N), you’re coming to the game tonight, right?” Mark asks from across the table.

“Unfortunately, you’ll be without me tonight,” you tell him, bumping your knee against Chenle’s. “I have a big test on Friday. But I’ll be at the party.”

Mark salutes you and gives you an apparent nod of approval. “Don’t know what Chenle will do without his good luck charm.”

“He’ll do just as well as he did before he knew I existed.” You laugh and run your fingers through your hair.

Chenle grabs your hand to look at the thread, gaze darting over to yours as a tiny smirk forms on his lips. “As long as you don’t take this off, I’ll be fine.”

“Right, because if I do, you’ll be so sad you can’t play.” You fake a pout, and his smirk turns into a full-blown grin.

“Broken hearts kill people, (Y/N). Be considerate.”

“Wow, they’re flirting in real time,” Jiyoon says, nodding.

“Weird, because Chenle doesn’t do that in front of us usually,” Jisung mutters back to her.

You crumple up one of the papers in front of you and throw it at your friends, and it bounces right off Jiyoon’s forehead.

“Nice.” Chenle high fives you, and you laugh at Jiyoon’s narrowed eyes.

Neither of you deny what’s happening, and it makes your stomach twist and turn with something you can’t recognize. Whatever’s happening to you, you don’t hate it, but it makes you nervous. Your heart races in his presence, and any time you’re alone with him, you want to kiss him.

Soobin and Heewon have another class to attend, so Mark offers to walk them there. The three of them stand and say their goodbyes. Mark loops his arm through Heewon’s and watches her fondly as he walks away with her.

“I thought he was a player,” you muse. “Now he’s all over her.”

“No, no,” Chenle replies. “I said he has the highest body count. But when he likes someone, he takes it seriously. He’s not a player or anything, he just happens to like sex.”

You nod in understanding and shrug. “I guess I didn’t think that was possible.”

“I mean, no offense to Heewon at all, but we were surprised he wanted more. Not anything to do with her, but he was just planning on going with the flow for the last couple semesters,” Jisung adds, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“Surprised on behalf of Mark, I get it.” You hold your hands up before dropping them back in your lap. Grabbing your bottle of water, you sip from it.

“And what about you two? You seem awfully close lately. Anything happening behind closed doors?” Jiyoon wiggles her eyebrows, and you full-on choke on your drink.

“Classy,” Chenle says to her, putting his hand on your lower back. “Are you okay?”

“Yep.” You try to clear your throat, your face burning at the realization he hasn’t vehemently denied or confirmed anything. Like he’s not going to answer until you’ve made yours clear.

“It’s a pretty simple question,” Jiyoon replies. “And you guys have been hanging out a lot. And I don’t really think he can say he doesn’t want to—”

His touch is now burning a hole right through the small of your back, and when you tense up, he’s quick to remove it.

“I don’t think we should talk about this,” Chenle interjects, resting his elbows on the table.

“See? That wasn’t a denial.” Jiyoon grins widely as if she’s proud of herself.

Your friend seems acutely aware you haven’t said anything either, and you know this is her way of trying to push you out of your shell. Chenle’s not denying his attraction to you, and you almost prefer it this way. Most people would jump to the ‘no, we’re just friends’ much too quickly for comfort, but it’s clear he’s not going to do anything to confuse you.

“I’ll see you after the game, right?” he asks, gaze soft despite the topic Jiyoon brought up.

You smile at him. “Yeah, of course. If I finish my homework at a decent time, I’ll try to make the game.”

“Cool.” He nods and stands up. “Jisung and I have a class, so I’ll see you later.”

Jisung kisses Jiyoon, placing his hand on the back of her neck. It lasts too long for comfort, which leaves you and Chenle to exchange awkward looks. Jisung pulls away first, pressing another quick peck to her cheek before he stands up and walks away with Chenle.

“I feel like that wasn’t really necessary.” You scrunch your face at her.

“The second you kiss Chenle, you’ll realize how necessary it really is.” Jiyoon grins, reaching into her backpack for a bag of chips. “It’s been a while for you. Live a little. Not that you’ve ever really…had a good experience with that kind of stuff.”

“Ah yes, thank you for the reminder.” You snort, looking over your shoulder to see Chenle and Jisung in the distance. “I will not be kissing Chenle.”

“Why not?”

“Why would I?” you counter.

“Uh, because you like him?”

“Kissing requires both parties wanting it, Ji.” You shuffle through your notebook, absentmindedly looking at your notes.

She frowns at you in silence.

“What?”

“You think that man doesn’t want to kiss you? Or get you undressed?”

“Okay, maybe. But just because we want to doesn’t mean we should. Or that we will.” You close your book and sigh as you look at your friend. “I’m not ready for something like that.”

“Not ready? That’s such a sad excuse and you know it. He’d never treat you like Woojin did.”

“It’s really only been a few months, okay? If he really likes me, he’ll give me time. If not, he’ll move on, and we’ll be the same way we have been for the past few weeks. We’re friends, Ji.” You gather your things to put them in your bag.

“I think you’re just scared he doesn’t want you.” Jiyoon narrows her eyes at you. “Try it. Literally try to kiss him tonight and see what happens.”

“You’re crazy. I will see you at the party.” But as you finally move away from your friend, images of kissing Chenle flash in front of your brain, and you realize how much that really is everything you want.

You were gonna kiss him. After the rest of the afternoon debating with yourself, you decided that was the best course of action. The past be damned, you deserve good things—and if Chenle is one of those things, then so be it.

You’ve been at his house for an hour, hanging out with him, Jisung, Mark, and a handful of other people you didn’t really know. You sat next to him on the couch, his arm loosely thrown over the cushion behind you.

Shifting closer to him, you rest your head on his shoulder, and his grip tightens naturally, his fingertips brushing the skin of your forearm. There’s no way you’ll kiss him in front of a group of people, but you’re not sure how to pull him away. He talks animatedly with his friends, laughing and celebrating their most recent win.

After a few moments, he leans close to whisper in your ear. “You okay?”

“Hm?” You blink at him, turning and nearly forgetting how to breathe when you see how easy it would be to press your lips to his. “Yeah, I’m good.” You lift your drink, but as soon as you do, someone hits Chenle’s arm behind you, and it makes you jolt as well, half of your alcohol pouring down your front. You gasp at the chill, gaping as you stand up.

“What the fuck?” Chenle sits up to put his drink down, throwing a glare over his shoulder to whoever ran into him.

Before you say anything, he’s right next to you with his hand on the small of your back. You allow him to lead you to the stairs, your face hot with embarrassment.

“Sorry, Chenle, I should go home and change—”

“You can just put something of mine on,” he says, opening the first door on the right and allowing you to walk in first.

The room is somewhat bare, beige walls and dark flooring. There’s nothing really showing someone lives here despite the sweatshirt haphazardly thrown over the desk chair. His bed isn’t made, the gray comforter bunched in the middle.

The music fades to background noise when he closes the door behind him. He goes into his dresser and pulls out a black T-shirt. When he hands it to you, you timidly take it from him.

“You can change, I’ll wait for you downstairs,” he tells you, already turning.

“Chenle, wait,” you call out, cringing at how quickly you said it. “Stay. Just…close your eyes or something.”

“Okay.” He frowns in confusion, but nods, facing the opposite direction.

Without wasting any more time, you pull your ruined shirt over your head and exchange it for his. It’s the school’s logo on the front, and even though you don’t look, you know his jersey number and last name are on the back.

Nerves eat away at your stomach as you approach him. Logically, you know he won’t reject you. He likes you just as much as you like him, but something still has you choking on the thought.

You put a hand on one of his shoulders. “Chenle.”

He gulps as he turns back to face you, but you don’t give him the time to say anything. Your hands move from his shoulders up to his face, cupping his cheeks and pulling him toward you. He allows it, gaze meeting yours once before his eyes flutter shut and your mouths meet.

His lips fit so perfectly with yours, it has you sighing against him. He wraps his arms around you, fisting your shirt as if he needs to ground himself. The pace is slow, his body flush to yours as your touch slides into his hair. It’s softer than you imagined it to be, and you just can’t get enough of him.

“Fuck, wait.” Chenle pulls away. “You’re not drunk, are you?”

You slap a hand over your mouth, face on fire as you turn away from him without an answer.

“Don’t go,” he says, reaching out for you. “Look at me and tell me you’re sober so I can kiss you again.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you allow him to pull you back until your chest bumps into his. You put your hands flat on his chest, surprised to find his heart thumping just as hard as your own beneath your palm.

“I think you forgot you made me the one drink I had…half of.” You peer at him through your lashes, the shine of your lip gloss reflecting off his lips.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he groans, his hand finding the back of your neck.

As soon as his mouth is on yours, your body arches into his, molding into him like you’re an extension of him. You’re not sure exactly what you’re doing, but you know you’ve never felt so comfortable with anyone else before. You move him backward until the backs of his knees press against his bed.

“(Y/N),” he whispers as you push him down until he sits on the mattress.

“Is this okay?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” he mutters breathlessly, pulling at you. “C’mere, Sunshine.”

A shiver runs down your spine as you climb onto his lap, staring right into his eyes while you crave his kiss. You reach up and swipe your thumb across his bottom lip, entranced. “Call me that again.”

“Sunshine.” He presses you as close as possible by the small of your back. “My Sunshine.”

You kiss him, and when you shift on top of him, you gasp at the feeling of him hardening beneath his sweatpants.

“‘M sorry,” he murmurs. “We can stop—”

“Is that what you want?” you ask him, leaning back to look at his face.

He shakes his head, and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him so nervous. For the most part, Chenle’s a confident man, so seeing him with even the slightest bit of hesitation warms your heart. His vulnerable side is on full display for you, and you’ll be damned if you’re the one who stops this moment.

“But, (Y/N), I need you to know that—”

“Chenle, can you come help? This fucking guy won’t—Oh, shit. My bad.” Mark stands in the doorway, and instead of flying off Chenle’s lap, you bury your head in his neck. He cradles the back of your head as he looks at his friend.

“What’s going on?” Chenle asks.

“Some dude is refusing to leave but he’s been making a couple girls uncomfortable, and I have no idea where Jisung is.”

“Probably in his room with his girlfriend.” His chest rumbles as he narrows his eyes at Mark. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

You move off his lap and sit next to him on his bed. He presses a quick kiss to your cheek.

“I’ll be right back.” And then he’s gone, following Mark downstairs.

You lie flat on his bed, patting your cheeks and fighting off a smile at the thought of what you just did. Amidst your happiness cloud, you don’t realize your phone is vibrating in your pocket until it’s on the last ring. You grab for it, unsure of who would be calling you at a time like this when all of your friends are downstairs.

When you see the screen, you immediately shrink in on yourself. The contact name has been labeled as “don’t answer,” and by that logic, you already know who it is. As soon as you see it, the call stops, and it turns into a notification instead. You anxiously wait for the second call, knowing Woojin better than you’d like to.

Your breath catches in your throat and anxiety sprouts at the base of your spine, and sudden guilt smashes into you when you process what you’ve done with Chenle. Your hands shake as you get a second notification, one that notifies you that you’ve received a voicemail.

You unlock your phone and immediately play the message.

“How fucking stupid do you think I am? Like I haven’t heard what’s going on with you and Chenle. Seriously, (Y/N)? You gonna let the whole basketball team get in your pants, too? He’s not as good as me. I bet every time you’re on his dick, you wish you were with me. You’ll come back when you realize he doesn’t really want you. The second you stop putting out, he’ll drop you so fast, just wait. The thought of you with him makes me so fucking—wait ‘til I fucking see him, and you’ll see. Do you know what you’ve done? You’re such a bitch, you’re pitting people against each other. I’ll get you back.”

The voicemail ends abruptly, and bile rises in your throat. Your eyes well with tears, and you cradle your knees up to your chest, your phone falling onto Chenle’s mattress. You become acutely aware of the way his shirt feels on your skin, and your guilt rages on. You’re not sure how long you’re sitting there before Chenle comes back.

But it doesn’t matter, because you’re hysterical—you can’t understand a word of what he’s saying, and you fight against his grasp like he’s suddenly not the same man you know.

“Hey.” He cups your cheeks, stopping your abrupt movements and forcing you to look into his eyes. “Breathe, talk to me. What the hell just happened?”

Your chest heaves and you stare at him in shock. You’re sure anyone else would have sent you away at the sight of the mess you became in seconds.

“Was it me? Did I do this?” he asks, thumbs stroking your skin.

Your heart pangs in your chest, and you quickly shake your head, unable to open your mouth to explain. Chenle’s face scrunches in relief as his chest deflates.

“Come here.” He tugs at you until you practically fall into his lap. You curl into him, and he lets you cry on his shoulder.

“Sorry,” you choke out, gripping onto his sleeve. “I wanted tonight to—”

“Don’t do that,” he says. “You don’t need to apologize to me. Can you…please tell me what happened?”

You’re almost too embarrassed to tell him about the message. He’d find out things about your past, and it might change his opinion of you. Although, the concern in his gaze as he wipes your tears away becomes enough convincing. This is Chenle. You trust him, inexplicably.

“Voicemail,” you whisper, jaw quivering all over again.

Chenle kisses your forehead and reaches for your phone. You feel queasy as he finds what he’s looking for and puts the device up to his ear. Faintly, you hear it play. You watch Chenle’s face closely, waiting for the disgust to show like you expect.

Instead, as the recording finishes, his jaw clenches, fire raging in his brown eyes. He tosses your phone to the side and tugs you closer to his chest. You sniffle, and his grip tightens on you. He’s rigid, unmoving except for his hand that runs through your hair.

“Chenle, I haven’t said anything about you to anyone.” You look up at him. “I don’t know where he heard any of that from, ‘cause I’d never spread rumors.”

“I didn’t think you did,” he says, tone soft. “I don’t think any part of that is your fault.”

“You’re not mad?”

“At you?” he asks incredulously. “Of course, I’m not mad at you. His actions can’t be blamed on you.”

For the first time since you received that call, your heart calms. You stare at him, lips parted in shock, and wait for the other shoe to drop. Wiping the rest of your tears, you clear your throat. Fear creeps up your spine, and the only thing on your mind is not scaring him off. Not doing anything to rock the boat so you can keep him, because you’ve already unknowingly fallen for him.

You sniffle, readjusting yourself on his lap so you’re straddling him again. He looks at you in confusion, but his hands find purchase on your hips. You tangle your fingers in his hair, swallowing the reproach you feel toward this situation, and kiss him like the past half an hour doesn’t exist. He returns the gesture, but it’s not like it was earlier. The passion has all but drained, and his touches are tentative.

He pulls away, eyes scanning over your face. “What are you doing?”

“What we were supposed to do in the first place,” you mention, grinding down on him.

He opens his mouth to speak, but a quiet curse comes out instead. Your hands shake as you reach down to the hem of your shirt and tug it over your head. Like Woojin said, as long as you’re giving Chenle what he wants, he won’t leave you.

“Stop,” Chenle breathes out, making you freeze above him.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this right now.” He drops his head into his palms. “Is this about the voicemail? You think you have to do this for me?”

Your silence is the only answer he needs.

“God, what the hell?” He removes you from his lap and stands up, tugging his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“Don’t go. Please.” Your voice is so small, you barely recognize it. “I’ll do better. Whatever you—”

“No.” He strides over to you and helps you to your feet, hands cupping your face as he kisses your forehead. “No, baby, I’m not going anywhere, promise. I just need a second, okay?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Let’s get your shirt back on.” He leans down to grab the black fabric off the floor and helps you pull it back on.

“Chenle,” you whisper.

“Yeah?” His eyebrows pinch together as he looks at you.

“Did you…want to?” You cringe at how small you sound. “Earlier, at least. You wanted me?”

“I did. I do. But I want you to want it, too,” he explains. “You shouldn’t ever feel like you have to do something you don’t want to, especially not things like that. No real man would ever ask you for that.”

“Thank you,” you say, taking a deep breath. “Can I stay with you tonight? Please?”

“I’d prefer it that way, actually.” He chuckles. “I’m gonna be right back, okay? Gonna tell Mark to end the party now, and I’ll be right back. You’ll be okay by yourself?”

You nod, and surprisingly, you actually mean it.

“If you don’t want to sleep in your jeans, you can get a pair of sweats from my dresser.” He kisses your cheek before heading downstairs.

While he’s gone, you change out of your jeans, a dull ache in your head from the sobbing. After you have his sweats on, you climb into bed and slide beneath his comforter. You’re surrounded by his scent like this. You want to melt into the sheets and never leave, surrounded by everything he has to offer all the time.

When he comes back, he locks his door behind him and lays down next to you. He doesn’t make any moves to pull you close, so you take the initiative and bury your head in his chest, wrapping an arm around his middle.

“Get some rest,” he whispers. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that piece of shit.”

“I’ll be okay,” you tell him, sighing. “I have you now.”

His grip is firm on you when you wake up, the steady rising and falling of his chest telling you he’s fast asleep. You sigh in content. You’d never really understood what people meant before, when they said things about not being able to get close enough. He’s pressed flush against you, but you feel as if it’s not enough.

You have no idea if your friends are here, but you carefully crawl out of bed so as to not disturb Chenle. Rubbing your eyes, you grab your phone to check your notifications. Jiyoon texted you a few times to ask if you’d gotten home okay. She’d been upstairs long before you, so it doesn’t surprise you she has no idea you stayed with Chenle.

He stirs with a short groan, but doesn’t open his eyes. You bite back a smile at the softness of his face. His cheek is smooshed into the pillow, and you’re surprised by the odd urge to kiss all over him. Instead, you opt to go into the kitchen for some water.

When you walk in the room, you’re met with Jisung, Jiyoon, and Heewon. Your friends blink at you in surprise, and Jisung laughs to himself.

“Think we found her.” He nudges Jiyoon.

“You could’ve just responded to my text and told me you got dick last night.” Jiyoon throws her hands up in exasperation.

“Nothing happened.” You shrug. “Jisung, water bottles?”

He points to the fridge, you give him a thumbs up, and then you grab one, twisting the cap off and sipping from it.

“You dirty liar, you’re in his clothes.” Heewon narrows her eyes at you. “His last name is on your back.”

“I spilled alcohol on my clothes,” you reply. “Mark was there, ask him.”

“Nothing happened?” Jiyoon asks. “Nothing at all? Not even some light petting or you know, head?”

You glare at her. “You’re such a perv.”

“Mark said he saw something last night,” Heewon blurts out. “And then I said, what? My sweet, innocent (Y/N) would never do something like that. But then I thought about it, and it obviously had to be you because Chenle wouldn’t randomly take another girl in his room.”

“Oh, my God.” Your face heats up. “Yeah, we kissed, but that’s it. Let me breathe before you start interrogating me.”

Jiyoon exclaims in excitement, shaking Jisung’s arm. “They finally fucking kissed!”

You grab a second bottle for Chenle, and then you make your way back toward the stairs.

“Wait!” Jiyoon calls. “You have to give me the details. You can’t just drop that on us and then leave!”

You turn toward her, giving her a pointed look. “Not telling you anything. I’m going back upstairs.”

“Yeah, go kiss Chenle again.” Jiyoon snickers.

“Maybe I will.” You whirl around, gasping mid-laugh when you smack right into Chenle’s chest. Embarrassment shoots through you as one of the water bottles tumbles from your hand. “Oh, I was just about to—”

“Kiss me again?” His lips form the tiniest smirk.

“Water. For you. But—”

“It’s okay, I’ll do it for you.” His palm finds the back of your neck, pushing you closer to him so he can connect your lips. You immediately melt into him, the other bottle falling as you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

The only thing that pulls you away from him in that moment is the obnoxious sound of Jiyoon and Heewon cheering behind the two of you. Your face burns, and you put your palms flat on his chest.

“Good morning.” You clear your throat.

“Would’ve been better with you in my bed instead of the kitchen,” he whispers in your ear.

“Hey, hey! No secrets.” Jiyoon pouts.

“Sorry, she’s very convinced we’re…you know.” You purse your lips. “Did you want to stay down here?”

“Came to see if you were still here,” he admits. “I’d much rather be upstairs with you right now.”

You glance over your shoulder at your friends and Jisung, glaring at them before returning your attention back to Chenle. “My peaceful attempt to get water was thwarted by my loser friends assuming we had sex.”

“You’ve got some nosy friends.” He grabs the water bottles from the floor and gestures back up the stairs. “Exactly why we lock doors in this house.”

When you get to class the next day, you’re surprised that Chenle’s nowhere to be found. He hadn’t mentioned anything to you, so you grab your phone and send him a quick text. Half of the class passes by before you start to worry. He hasn’t messaged you back, and he’s still not here.

You walk up to your professor, fidgeting with your hands. “Excuse me, sorry if this is weird, but did Chenle email or anything about not being here?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” she replies. “But I do think the basketball team had something planned for today. If you’re looking for him, he may be in the gym.”

You nod at her to thank her, and then you do exactly as she says. It’s unlike him to be MIA all day, and you’re sure he wouldn’t be upset seeing you, so why not?

You’re not expecting the room to be so full when you walk in. You don’t see him immediately, but you see Jiyoon and Jisung, so you approach them.

Jiyoon spots you first, confusion sprouting on her features. “(Y/N)? What are you doing here?”

“Um.” You blush, suddenly embarrassed that you came all this way to find Chenle. “Have you heard from Chenle? He wasn’t in class and he wasn’t responding, so…”

“You’re so cute when you worry,” Jiyoon says, nudging your shoulder. “Yeah, the captains of the sports teams do this once a year or whatever. He’s been here all day.”

“Oh, okay, well, I’m gonna head to lunch. Are you coming?” You tilt your head and adjust your bag.

“Heewon’s here, too. You didn’t know about this?”

You frown, taken aback by everyone knowing what’s going on but you. It gives you an uneasy feeling, your stomach twisting.

The door on the far end opens, and Chenle walks through, clearly frustrated at whatever he just witnessed back there. His anger melts the second he sees you, and he makes his way over.

He pulls you into a hug. “What’re you doing here?”

“I…” You pause, throwing one of your arms around him. “You weren’t in class, and our professor said you might be here. I’m a little confused.”

Chenle glances around before he gestures toward the door. “C’mon, I’ll explain.”

You let him lead you away from Jiyoon and Jisung. Once you’re far enough from the crowd, he grabs your hand.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this,” he tells you. “I just…I figured you knew, but this is a schoolwide event. Which means everyone on a sports team is here, and I didn’t want you to feel pressured to come knowing—”

“Zhong, not inviting your girlfriend to things? Isn’t that frowned upon?”

You freeze at the sound of that voice, and suddenly, everything makes sense. Chenle runs his tongue over his teeth, immediate irritation sparking on his face.

“Didn’t we just have a conversation about you being around her, Woojin?” His body tenses as he turns toward the other man. “Don’t make me get us both in trouble before such an important week.”

He stands directly in front of you, blocking your view of the man. You hold onto the back of his T-shirt and tug gently to tell him it’s not worth it.

“Well, if she’s over me, what does it matter if she sees me? Are you scared you’ll lose out to a better man?” Woojin’s tone seeps with misplaced confidence. “C’mon, she’s not that good to where you have to get so defensive.”

Chenle quickly moves forward, making you lose your grip on him. Fortunately, Jisung and Mark jump in, hands on his shoulders to push him back.

“Hey, calm down,” Mark says in his ear. “We can’t play without our captain.”

Jiyoon and Heewon shuffle past the boys over to you, but you’re focused more on Chenle than yourself at this point.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Jiyoon says, tugging at your arm. “Let Chenle handle it.”

“What? No, he’s clearly not handling it. I’m okay.” You move around Mark to stand in front of Chenle, not sparing Woojin a glance. Despite the uneasiness you feel, you care more about calming him down than giving Woojin the satisfaction of a response from you.

You put your hand on his chest, and his anger all but dissipates when he looks at you. His eyes soften, and he nods at his friends so they’ll let him go.

“I’ll be back,” Chenle says. “I’m gonna take her home.”

“You don’t have to leave for me.” You grin up at him. “I’ll make it fine by myself. I shouldn’t have come.”

“Trust me, I need a walk.” He brushes his pants off and puts his arm around you, guiding you in the opposite direction. The glare he throws at Woojin would be enough to send chills down your spine if it was directed at you.

Once you’re out in the fresh air, you finally feel like you can breathe. Chenle’s still tense as he walks you through the courtyard.

“Are you okay?” you ask him. “I’m sorry, I should’ve just waited to hear from you, but I was worried.”

“Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for, you’re not the one who’s an asshole.” He pulls you tighter and kisses the side of your head. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” You nod, looking down at your feet as you walk.

He pauses, fingers tapping against your skin. “I’m really not mad at you. I wanted you there, but I didn’t want you to be in a situation like that. So, if anything, I should’ve told you about what I was doing today. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

You stop, frowning at him. He tilts his head at you and raises his eyebrows in confusion.

“You did that for me?”

He gives you a small smile. “It definitely wasn’t for me. If I was being selfish, I would’ve brought you.”

Instead of responding, you tangle your fingers in his hair and kiss him. He finally relaxes and rests his hand on the small of your back.

He drops his head on your shoulder, sighing. “Don’t wanna go back. Do you care if I just stay with you for the day?”

“Well, you missed our assignment directions, so I think you probably should.” You intertwine your fingers with his and resume your journey.

You and Chenle end up in your room, and he sits next to you on your bed while you shuffle through your papers from today. He shifts, spreading his legs to pull you between them, his arms squeezing around your middle.

“He makes me want to commit murder. I can only imagine how you feel.” He breathes you in.

You chuckle, leaning back on his chest. “Honestly? I just wanted you. I didn’t care about him or whatever he was saying. Plus, he has no idea what he’s talking about. He sucks.”

“Oh, that’s working,” he murmurs. “Tell me all about how he sucks, please.”

“He never let me go to parties. Couldn’t have a simple conversation with any man that wasn’t him. Always hung out with his friends instead of me. I had to ask permission if I wanted to do anything. Even if it was with Jiyoon or Heewon.” Your face heats up, and you’re glad he can’t see you. “He talks about being this great man but he never actually…took care of me.”

Chenle tenses all over again. “What?”

“Uh.” You clear your throat and shake your head. “Nothing.”

“No, no, sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he says. “I’m just…I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised, huh? Any man that talks like that probably doesn’t even know how to use his parts.”

“Yeah, he kinda sucks.”

“I’m stuck between wanting to kick his ass or showing you what it feels like.” He kisses where your neck meets your shoulder. “Is he the only guy you’ve been with?”

Your thighs clench together at the sudden heat you feel, and you gulp, nodding. “I mean, I’ve…done things to myself. But yeah. He’s the only one.”

“I…” His eyelashes flutter against your skin. “God, I could kill him.”

You turn your head until you meet his gaze, heart pounding in your chest as you work up the courage to say what you want. His eyes dart down to your mouth before he wets his lips.

You trace your finger over his cheekbone, shifting back against him. “Why don’t you stop thinking about him and show me?”

He kisses you hard, hands clenching at the fabric of your shirt. You try to move so you can straddle his lap, but he tightens his grip instead.

“Relax, baby,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to do anything. Just lay back and let me take care of you, yeah?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Do you want me to touch you?” Chenle’s hand slides down to the button of your jeans, and your breath catches in your throat.

“If you want—”

“Do you want me to touch you?” he repeats. “I’m not doing it if you don’t want it.”

“Yes.” You look into his eyes. “Please.”

“There you go.” He gives you a small smile as he pops the button and unzips the zipper. “Lift up for me for a second? Wanna get these off of you.”

You do as he asks, and he pushes the fabric down to your knees. With anyone else, you’d feel embarrassed to be seen this way, but Chenle’s lips against your neck and fingertips exploring your bare thighs has you forgetting all about it.

You lean back on him, already panting at the thought of him so close to where you want him. He traces along the hem of your panties before tracing down to your core, ghosting from your entrance to your clit. You bite your lip to stop yourself from making a sound.

“You can stop me whenever if you want to, okay? Don’t think you have to do this because you already said yes.” He rubs tentative circles on you with just enough pressure to have you squirming.

“I want it,” you tell him. “I want you.”

“I know, baby. I’m letting you know it’s okay if you change your mind.” His cock is hard already, digging into you back as he presses a little harder.

This time, you can’t hold back the moan fluttering past your lips. You put your hand over your mouth, and he uses his other hand to pull at your wrist.

“Let me hear you.” His voice is deeper than you’re used to, thick with want for you. “Tells me if I’m doing a good job.”

He stops his movements to slide his hand beneath your panties. His fingers move to your entrance, and he curses under his breath and the feeling of your wetness. You cry out when he slips them inside you, not sure what to do with your hands as your eyes roll.

“Good?” he asks, kissing along your neck. His body radiates heat. It pours into you, your chest heaving while you reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair and kiss him hard.

“More,” you whimper.

His tongue enters your mouth, delicately wrestling with yours. He pumps his hand faster, his palm finding your clit with every thrust. You’re embarrassed by the way your legs shake, but you don’t break the kiss. Your hips buck up, a knot forming in your stomach that you’ve only ever felt by yourself. It’s more intense when it’s Chenle, the butterflies swarming around the closer you get.

He curls his fingers, finding your spot. You squirm and moan as your high takes you, your grip on his hair tightens while you grind down. While you float on the cloud he created for you, he moves slowly to bring you back down to earth, and he kisses all over your face. He gently removes his fingers and wipes them on his shirt.

“God, I wanna fucking eat you out so bad,” he pants. “Fuck.”

You push your jeans off the rest of the way and turn around to straddle his lap. His hands find your hips, holding you away from the noticeable bulge in his shorts.

You frown. “What about you?”

“Baby, I’m good. I’m just gonna go take care of it in the bathroom.”

“You don’t want me to—” Your chest deflates.

“That’s not it.” He chuckles breathlessly. “I promise you, the only thing I want more than being inside you right now is making sure you know that me doing things for you doesn’t mean you have to for me, too.”

You’re silent for a moment, blinking at him as he traces shapes on your hips.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I—I think I’m in love with you,” you say it so quietly, you barely hear the words yourself.

His eyes widen, and within seconds, he’s pulling you in for another kiss. He cradles the back of your head as he flips you over. Resting between your legs, his lips work on yours like he’s never kissed you before.

When he pulls away, your face is still on fire from your confession.

“I’m so sorry,” you tell him. “I don’t know why I’d say something like that, and you don’t have to—”

“I love you, too,” he cuts you off, smiling. “Give me, like, five minutes, Sunshine. I’ll be right back.”

Before you protest, he’s jumping away from you and heading into the bathroom. You splay out on your bed, giggling to yourself as you replay what happened in your head. The thought of him taking care of himself in there has your imagination wandering dangerously. You start to wonder what would happen if you offered to help him.

You finally decide to get up and grab a pair of sweatpants from your dresser. As soon as you have them secured on you, Chenle comes out of the bathroom. He wraps his arms around you, pulling your back to his chest.

“Sorry you had to do that,” you murmur, taking a deep breath.

“It’s not the first time,” he admits, chuckling.

Your jaw drops and you turn to look at him. “Seriously?”

“The world will fall to its knees when you finally accept how fucking perfect you are.” He kisses the tip of your nose. “Come lay down with me. We’ll worry about homework later, yeah?”

You curl into his chest when you join him on your bed, legs tangling with his. He runs his fingers through your hair, pressing his lips to the top of your head. A giddy feeling runs rampant in your chest, and all you want is to stay here forever with him.

“Thank you,” you whisper to him, squeezing his waist.

“You don’t have to do that.” His reply makes his chest rumble. “I promise I’ll always treat you the way you deserve.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” you hum, closing your eyes.

His heart thrums in his chest, the sound filling your ears and calming you despite how fast it is. You make him as nervous as he makes you, and that thought alone puts a smile on your face.

He gives you a sense of calm you haven’t felt in a long time—you’re safe.

For a week, you don’t see Chenle except in class. It disappoints you, but as his championships approach, he’s been practicing nonstop. He offered to come over after his practices, but he’d be stumbling in past midnight, so you declined.

You’re getting ready for bed when you hear a knock on your door. Hesitating, you’re not sure who would be at your place, let alone knocking. You check your phone to make sure you didn’t miss any texts, and then you look out the peephole.

You recoil at the sight of Woojin, stumbling back until you bump into your table. What the hell was he doing at your house.

“(Y/N), open the door.” He has to be shouting. His voice is much too clear. “I just wanna talk to you. I know Chenle’s not here, babe, let me in.”

Your first instinct is to grab your phone out of your pocket, but you’re not sure what you plan on doing.

“Let me in or I’ll find a way in without your help,” Woojin warns.

You turn away and bolt back to your room, closing it and locking it before your first instinct is to dial Chenle’s number.

“I was just about to call you,” he answers. “We got out early so I was gonna see if—”

“Woojin’s outside.” Your voice warbles as you try to stand steady, tugging your fingers through your hair. “He said he’s gonna find a way in, and I don’t remember if all the windows are locked or—”

“Hey, hey, listen to me, okay? I’m on my way. Go to your room and lock the door. I’ll be before you know it. He’s not going to get to you.” His tone switches from lighthearted to dead serious, but somehow still comforting despite the situation.

“Chenle—”

“I know, baby. Make sure your door is locked.”

Woojin pounds on the front door more, and you drop your phone.

“If you think he’ll make it before I get to you, you’re wrong. This could’ve been fucking easy, (Y/N)!” A cold edge takes over Woojin, and tears well in your eyes.

This man was forcing his way into your house, and fear paralyzes you from head to toe. You can’t move, no matter how much you try. At least the noise alerts you to where he is, but when the silence sets in, you feel bile in your throat.

You sit on the floor, cradling your knees to your chest as you rock back and forth as your only option for response. Nothing changes, and suddenly, you hear a familiar voice through your bedroom door.

“(Y/N)? It’s Mark, are you okay? Chenle’s outside.”

It’s not enough. You can’t speak or move to unlock the door, and you don’t want Mark.

“He’s taking care of it,” Mark continues.

After more silence, he seems to get that you’re not going to respond to anyone but Chenle.

A few more minutes pass, and a light knock sounds.

“(Y/N), open the door,” Chenle says softly. “I’m here, Sunshine. Come see me.”

You pick yourself up off the floor and make your way over to the door, unlocking it but not having enough energy to open it. As soon as he hears it, he’s in your room and wrapping you up in his arms.

“Are you okay?” He kisses the top of your head, his heart pounding in his chest. Pulling back, he grabs your face, wiping away the tears you don’t recall shedding.

“He tried to—” You choke on your words, opting to bury yourself in his grasp instead.

And then you see his hands, some of his knuckles split and bleeding. You gasp and grab his wrists, gaping at his injuries.

“Chenle, what did you do?”

“Just taught him a lesson is all,” he tells you, shaking his head. “I want you to come stay with us for a little while, okay?”

“Huh?”

“I want you to pack a bag and come stay with me, Sungs, and Mark for a while.”

“I can’t do that.” You put your hands on his shoulders. “You said you handled it, right?”

“Please?” He cups both your cheeks. “It’ll make me feel better. I know he won’t try anything there.”

Reluctantly, you agree, and he helps you gather your things. He insists on carrying it for you, and he leads you through your house. When you make it outside, you see a handful of people you don’t know and Mark and Jisung. You turn to look at Chenle.

“Is…is this the whole basketball team?” you ask.

“We were all leaving when you called. They offered to help.” He shrugs.

You’re exhausted by the time you make it to Chenle’s. Jiyoon and Heewon are already there, and when they see you, the looks on their faces tell you everything you need to know. Chenle guides you upstairs without a word.

“Chenle,” you mutter after he closes the door.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it, okay?” You fight your tears and grab his hands. “Let me help you clean up, and then I just want to go to bed.”

“Anything you need.” He kisses your forehead.

“Do you have a first-aid kit?” You sniffle and wipe at your eyes.

He leads you into his bathroom and grabs a plastic case from under the sink and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. Sliding onto his counter, you spread your legs to allow him room close to you. You don’t say another word, you just get to work. He flinches when you wipe his wounds, and you sigh at the amount of damage done. All of it for you? It didn’t make sense.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you, staring down at your movements. “It just makes me…so mad that he thinks he can get away with trying to hurt you. So, I’m sorry if I hurt you by doing that, but I’m not sorry for protecting you.”

“You brought the whole team.” You chuckle and kiss his cheek.

“You’re important to me, and by definition, that makes you important to them, too.” He shrugs and pulls his hands away from you to grip the edge of the counter. “You’re safe with them.”

“I wasn’t done,” you scold him, but you enjoy his warmth anyway.

Chenle shakes his head. “Just let me look at you for a sec.”

You’re sure your face is puffy, eyes bloodshot from tears you barely remember, but he stares at you so fondly you forget all about it. He gives you the faintest smile.

“Come to bed with me?” His voice is so soft, like he’s afraid of any louder octave breaking you into pieces.

You cup his cheeks, stroking his skin with your thumbs. “What if it gets infected?”

“It won’t,” Chenle reassures you. “I’m exhausted. And I have class in the morning.”

You nod, and he takes a step back to allow you to get down. Following him into his bedroom, you feel how heavily sleep tugs on you, too. You sit on the edge of his bed as he moves his comforter so he can get under it. Watching him over your shoulder, you appreciate how soft he looks. All you want is to be close to him at all times. Whenever he’s away from you, the air is so much colder.

Chenle wraps his arm around you and pulls you to his chest so you can curl into him. “I love you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“I love you, too. And you got to me in time, that’s all that matters.” Your mouth brushes his gently at first, and then you allow him to part your lips with his tongue.

Despite that and the way he holds you so tightly, there’s no real heat behind this. You wrap your leg around his waist, and his hand moves down to your ass. Sighing, you shuffle again, getting lost in his kiss and the feeling of his hands all over you.

He squeezes you, making a short moan escape your lips. Resting his forehead against yours, he closes his eyes.

“We should stop.”

“You’re the one touching me,” you point out, tracing your thumb along his bottom lip. “We can stop if you want to, but I want it. So, don’t stop on my behalf.”

He rolls his hips toward you, pressing his hardening cock against your clothed entrance. “Does it feel like I want to stop?”

“I want you so bad.” You sigh as you grind on him. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since—” Your face heats up at your confession, but he smiles.

“I let you cum one time, and now this,” he teases you, biting back a wider grin.

You smack his shoulder. “It felt good.”

“It’s supposed to,” he retorts. “And if you’re ever with me and you don’t finish, you’d better tell me. Because I’ll make it happen.”

“I haven’t finished yet.” You continue grinding on him, his hardness sliding perfectly against you.

He massages your ass, the pressure of it slotting him firmly between your legs. You kiss him hard and let out a shuddering breath at the stimulation of your clit through your pants and underwear. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, and he tugs until you let out a short whine.

“God, I don’t wanna have you for the first time while Mark and Jisung can hear,” he groans, burying his head in your neck. “Need to hear how I’m making you feel.”

“So let me just take care of you.” You move your hand down his body until you squeeze his bulge.

“You don’t have to,” he says, voice strained.

“If I want to?” you ask.

He inhales sharply, but doesn’t exhale. “Whatever you want, Sunshine.”

“Close your eyes and relax.” You kiss him gently before moving beneath the blanket.

He shifts onto his back, and you pull his pants down enough to palm him over his boxers. A short gasp leaves his lips. That’s enough for you to decide to slide your hand inside and grip his length. He throbs as your thumb rubs over the tip.

You're more nervous than you’d care to admit, but when you put the head in your mouth and suck, his low curse is all you need. You sink down further, attempting to relax your throat to take him deeper. He struggles to keep quiet, his moans sending bursts of wetness to your core.

You grab his hand, finding it fisted into the sheets, and bring it to your hair, hoping he’ll get the message. He immediately starts guiding your head up and down on his cock, and the slight sting from his movements has you moaning around him.

“Gonna cum,” he warns you. “Fuck, baby, your mouth is so good.”

You dig your nails into his thigh, sinking all the way down until your eyes water from gagging on him. With one last groan, he spills down your throat. You swallow what you can, climbing out from under the blanket while he readjusts himself in his pants.

“You’re fucking killing me,” he groans, reaching up to wipe the corner of your mouth. Before he moves away from you, you take his thumb in your mouth and suck.

“Feel better?” You quirk an eyebrow at him.

He shifts, laying you on your back so he can settle between your legs. You’re a little surprised when he kisses you hard, tongue and all, considering you swallowed his load, but he doesn’t seem to care about that.

“Your turn,” he mutters, kissing and nipping along your neck.

“You shouldn’t.” You run your fingers through his hair. “Your hands are—”

“Oh, baby.” He chuckles. “I don’t need my hands for what I’m about to do to you.”

“What happened to not having to do things just because the other person did?” You chuckle as he plays with the hem of your pants.

“You fucking earned it.” He nips your collarbone. “Plus I’ve wanted to taste you for so long. So, really, this is for me, too.”

“That feels backwards.”

He lifts your shirt up so his lips can graze your skin on the way down, tongue dancing along. Your breathing becomes uneven from the anticipation. With him between your legs, you can’t move to create the friction you crave.

“Is this okay?” he asks you.

You nod, helping him remove your panties. His gaze darkens as he sees your core, surely slick with your arousal. The pause he takes is minimal, and within seconds, he’s licking a broad stripe up your core. Your hand flies to his hair, whining as your back arches. He sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking it fast. His arms wrap around your thighs to stop them from clenching around his head, and his nails digging into your skin amplifies your pleasure.

You squirm beneath him, moaning as he dips into your entrance. His nose nudges your sensitive bud, and you wonder how you’ve gone this long without feeling this kind of pleasure. Lewd sounds emanate from where he’s attached to you as he works your entrance like he’s done it a hundred times.

You look at him, at the sight between your legs, and feel a whole new burst of heat between your legs. It feels like a rubber band is being pulled tight in your stomach, and you know damn well how soon it’ll snap.

The second his gaze flicks up to yours while his mouth is attached to your core, your orgasm hits you hard. Your back arches as your hips buck, and you tug hard on his hair until he’s moaning against you.

He doesn’t let up, helping you ride out your high before he starts to slow his pace. When you’ve come down from it, he separates from you, sitting up on his knees to get a good look. His lips glisten with your arousal, and you wet your lips at the thought of the evident bulge in his pants.

“Not tonight, baby.” He wipes his face with the back of his hand. “Not with them in the house, and not after everything.”

He grabs you a clean pair of panties, sliding them up your legs before he kisses you deeply. You moan at the taste of yourself.

Once you nod, he practically collapses on top of you, his head resting on your chest. You like feeling the weight of him and his warmth, so you wrap your arms around him and hold him while you will your heart to calm down.

In the morning, Chenle kisses all over your face to wake you. You groan, pushing at him despite only wanting him closer.

“I have to get to class,” he tells you. “And I have practice later, but I’m gonna leave a little early.” His lips trail to a sensitive spot below your ear.

“Leave practice early?” You fake disappointment. “Why would the captain leave early?”

“Because the captain is tired of his roommates being home when all he wants is alone time with his girlfriend. So, he’s gonna take some time to do the things he’s been dreaming of the past few weeks.” He drops his weight on top of you, resting his head on your chest. “If that’s okay with her, of course.”

“Oh? What things?”

He smirks up at you. “I’m gonna take you on a date, and then, if you’re up for it, I really, really wanna be inside you all fucking night.”

Your face heats up at the bluntness of his confession, but you nod.

“Just for bonus points, I’ll tell Mark and Jisung not to come home tonight, yeah?” He lifts himself up on his palms until he’s hovering over you.

“Why don’t you stay here, and we can be without them all day?”

“I have a test.” He sighs, placing one last kiss on your collarbone. “If that were an option, I’d’ve already picked it.”

Chenle pats your hip before rolling out of bed. He’s already changed into jeans and a T-shirt, but you admire him anyway. You turn to your side and curl into the blanket, planning on staying in that very spot until he comes back.

“I’ll see you later.” He grabs his backpack and heads for the door, glancing once more over his shoulder before he disappears. Even though he closes the door behind him, it doesn’t take long for it to open again, Jiyoon poking her head through.

“Hey.” She gives you a nervous smile. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been worse,” you reply, sitting up. Pursing your lips, you remember your pants are on the other side of the room. Jiyoon notices at the same time you do.

“Y’know, I thought I heard something last night,” Jiyoon jokes, sitting at the foot of the bed. “But then I was like, no way. (Y/N) is celibate.”

“Oh, come on. Celibate?” You glare at her.

She holds her hands up in mock surrender. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me the second it happened.”

“It hasn’t. That’s why you haven’t heard about it.” You shrug.

“That explains why it’s only your pants.” She frowns. “Why’s it taking so long?”

“It’s only been a couple months, Ji.”

“Yeah. That’s like six years in guy time.”

“We’ve done…stuff. Just not that.”

“Oh, my God, wait! I have to get Heewon before you spill.” Jiyoon squeals in excitement and runs out of the room.

You fall back against the pillow and sigh. As much as you want to tell them, you also want to keep it to yourself. It feels…private. Magical. Something only shared between you and Chenle.

They’ll ask you questions about him—and you’ll only ever be able to answer in one way. He’s perfect, and every second you spend with him makes you want more.

You end up in the living room with them after changing your clothes for the day. Jiyoon ordered pizza, and shortly after Chenle left, Mark and Jisung head out for practice.

But Chenle comes back a lot earlier than you expected. You, Jiyoon, and Heewon share an awkward glance. It must be right after his class, considering it’s only been an hour and a half.

“I thought he said he was still going to practice?” Jiyoon whispers.

You shrug. “Yeah, he did.”

He exchanges a look with you, and you realize immediately that he’s not happy. Shaking his head, he turns and immediately heads upstairs.

“Did he look upset to you guys?” you whisper.

“I think he wants you to go with him,” Jiyoon replies, pushing your arm.

“I’ll be right back.” You wipe your hands off on your napkin before following him to his bedroom. He’s on his way back out when you make it up there.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Checking on you,” you tell him. “You’re back early and you don’t seem happy, so I wanted to make sure you’re good. Why aren’t you going to practice?”

“Why would I practice if I can’t play in the game?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

“What do you mean you can’t play?” you shoot back, eyes widening. “Is this because of me?”

“No, it’s not your fault.” He wets his lips. “I don’t really wanna talk about it right now. Let’s just go downstairs, yeah? If I don’t get to hold you, I might go crazy after everything today.”

You nod and intertwine your fingers with his. “Yeah, of course.”

When the two of you take your seats, you motion at Jiyoon to tell her not to ask him any questions. You sit next to him with your legs over his lap, and his thumb rubs your thigh through your jeans.

You rest your head on his shoulder, listening to whatever story Heewon is telling. When you look over at him, he’s relaxed back on the cushion, eyes closed. You know something’s bothering him, but you don’t want to push or make him feel uncomfortable by prying. Instead, you shuffle closer to him.

He pulls you onto his lap, squeezing his arms around you and letting out a long sigh. It worries you more than you’ll admit, and when you glance over at your friends, they’re talking to each other in hushed voices.

“We’ve got a class,” Jiyoon says, standing up with Heewon. “We’re gonna head out. Talk to you later?”

“Yeah, of course.” You smile at her, and then quickly mouth ‘sorry’ before she waves you off like it’s no big deal.

Once they’re out of the door, you look back at Chenle, shifting so you’re straddling his lap to allow you a good view of him.

He runs his fingers through his hair, gaze traveling over you. “Would you hate me if we took a rain check on the date day?”

“I could never hate you.” You frown at him. “Whatever you need. Just tell me and I’ll make it happen.”

“Come take a nap with me?” he whispers, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “All I want is to hold you and forget today exists.”

You give him a soft smile. “Of course.”

You’re not sure what it is exactly that has him so upset, but he said he didn’t want to talk about it. He guides you upstairs, fingers intertwined, and closes his bedroom door behind you once you’re both in.

Rummaging through his drawers, he grabs a shirt and hands it to you. You take it without question before going to your bag to get a pair of shorts. Without a second thought, you take your own shirt off and drop it on his floor, glancing over your shoulder at him to see him changing into a pair of sweatpants. You secure his shirt on before unbuttoning your jeans, pushing them down your legs until you can kick them off.

His arms snake around your waist, pressing his chest to your back. He kisses your cheek. “This was supposed to be a good night. I’m sorry, Sunshine, I’ll figure it out soon, okay?”

“Hey,” you murmur, turning to him. “You don’t have to apologize to me. We have all the time in the world for dates.”

“Thank you. I’m fucking exhausted.” Chenle moves toward his bed, and you follow without hesitation. When you’re both settled beneath the comforter, you curl into him like you can’t get close enough.

You’re not sure who falls asleep first, but you wake up before him. The dim lamp in the corner is now the only lighting, the sun no longer illuminating the walls in orange. A door opening and closing downstairs followed by Mark and Jisung laughing together is what stirs you.

Reluctantly pulling yourself away from Chenle, you grab your shorts from the edge of the bed and slide them on before heading toward Chenle’s friends. You rub your eyes to help you adjust to the brightness of the kitchen, and Jisung and Mark stop their conversation as they notice you.

“Hey,” Jisung says, fingers tapping on the counter.

“Don’t let me interrupt.” You chuckle, your voice still heavy with sleep. “I just wanted to ask you guys something if that’s okay.”

Mark nods. “Yeah, of course.”

“Why wasn’t he at practice today? He said something about not being able to play?”

The two boys share a look, and for some reason, that makes you feel as if you already know the answer.

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?”

“Not you,” Jisung replies. “But…”

“But what?” You cross your arms over your chest. “Come on, if there’s something I can do, I want to help.”

“Woojin reported Chenle for kicking his ass. And Coach asked him why he’d do something like that, but he wouldn’t say anything. He didn’t want to air your business or whatever, and he’s pretty much banned the rest of us from defending him. Honestly, he didn’t even want us to tell you. But we’re gonna lose without him, and this is the last championship before graduation.” Jisung pauses, pressing his lips together. “Not that we blame you, because what happened wasn’t your fault at all, but it’s just…”

“No, I get it,” you tell him. “Don’t tell him I know. I’ll fix it.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant by that, either.”

“I’m not letting myself be an inconvenience to him, Jisung.” You chew on the inside of your cheek, contemplating your next move. “Where is the coach at after mine and Chenle’s lab?”

Jisung and Mark explain to you where to find him, and then you make a mental note of it before you thank them and go back upstairs to Chenle. He’s fast asleep when you make it back, and you already know after all of the things he’s done for you, telling the truth is the least you can do for him.

Like nothing happened, you climb back into bed and resume your place against his chest.

After your lab, you make an excuse as to why you won’t be at lunch that day. You kiss Chenle’s cheek quickly, and then you’re off in the opposite direction to find his coach. Luckily for you, Jisung’s directions were foolproof, and you made your way to the office easily.

You told the truth—everything about your past with Woojin, how he’d been harassing both you and Chenle, and how he was attempting to break into your house when Chenle came to help you. It was hard to get through the story, but you knew he deserved to play in the championships. There wasn’t anything that could convince you otherwise.

You told the coach to verify the story with any of the rest of the team, and they’d corroborate it. Once you left, a weight felt like it’d been lifted from your shoulders, but you could only hope it was enough to get him his spot back.

Soon enough, you're back in Chenle’s room, sitting at his desk doing your part of the assignment from the lab. Practice starts an hour after lunch, which means you weren’t expecting him for a while yet, but when the front door opens downstairs, you’re sure it’s him.

“(Y/N)?” Chenle calls up to you.

“Homework,” you respond, nervous for his reaction.

You stand up as you hear him approaching. He opens the door, and within seconds, he’s right in front of you, tangling his fingers in your hair and smashing his lips to yours. Your surprised gasp gives him the opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth, his other hand finding the small of your back to keep you pressed firmly to him.

He rests his forehead on yours, panting. “As much as I should kill Mark and Jisung for opening their big fucking mouths, I can’t believe you did that.”

“Are you mad at me?” you ask. “I didn’t want you to get in trouble and lose out on your games because of me, and when I—”

“No, baby, I’m not mad at you. I’m just so fucking in love with you.”

“I love you so much,” you tell him. “Are you playing next week?”

He nods, grinning. “Yeah, but I told Coach I’d come back next practice. And I also told Mark and Jisung not to come home tonight.”

You don’t respond, instead kissing him once again. He moves softer this time, his hands moving down to grip your ass. Mind whirling, you sigh into his mouth.

“I like this better than the idea of finishing homework.” You chuckle, gripping his shoulders.

“I want you so bad,” he continues, kissing up your neck. “I can’t believe you did that for me.”

Your body heats at his words, images of the ways he’s made you feel before flash across your mind. “I’d do anything for you.”

His lips are on yours again, walking you backward until the back of your knees hit the edge of his bed. You tug on his hair, and the groan he lets out sends shivers down your spine. This is what you’ve been waiting for—and when he pulls away to ask you if it’s okay, you take your shirt off in response. Both of you pause for a moment, him to look you over and you to gain the courage to keep your confidence up.

Turning the two of you around, you gently push him until he sits on the mattress, and then you climb onto his lap. He immediately grips your hips, fingers digging in hard.

His touch ghosts along your skin, making a shuddering breath escape you as every brief second of contact has you on fire.

“I love you,” he says. “Absolutely fucking everything about you.”

“Lucky me,” you murmur, reaching down for the hem of his shirt. He helps you take it off of him, pulling you closer. You gasp at the feeling of his hardening length against your core, and you start to grind down on him.

His eyes darken as he leans forward until his lips brush yours. “No. I’m the lucky one.”

You lift yourself up to push your shorts down, trying your best not to be too awkward with getting them off your legs in your current position. Chenle uses it to his advantage, kissing along your chest and nipping until marks form on your collarbone.

You pull at his pants, the way you need him so desperately making him chuckle as he moves to assist you. After he kicks them off, you continue moving your hips, his bulge rubbing right on your clit through your thin panties.

“Are you sure?” he asks, palms sliding down to your ass so he can squeeze it. “We can wait, Sunshine.”

“If I wait any longer, I might implode,” you tell him breathlessly. “I need you.”

He watches you closely as he reaches the clasp of your bra. You give him an encouraging nod, and he quickly removes it from you. He guides you on top of him, but he wets his lips before putting his hand on your back and lowering his mouth to your nipple. You groan, feeling the knot forming in your stomach at the stimulation on your clit. Whining, you move faster to reach your high, your grip on his shoulders tightening as you get closer.

His gaze meets yours briefly, and then he kisses you hard. Your pleasure becomes so overwhelming that you can’t focus on kissing him, instead a moan escapes you, and he swallows it. He holds you tightly as you practically spasm on top of him, euphoria spreading through every inch of your body.

“I can already feel how wet you are,” he mutters, inhaling sharply. “Let me make you mine, baby. Let me have you.”

“I’m yours. You’ve had me since day one.” You cup his cheeks and kiss him, heart racing.

You’ve never wanted someone as badly as you want him, but it’s only at this point that nerves start to sweep you up in their whirlwind. Like he can read your mind, he pauses, blinking up at you.

“Just relax,” he says. “Whatever you need, tell me.”

“You.” Sitting up again, you try to push your panties down. He takes the opportunity to lift up as well to take his boxers off.

“Do I need a condom?” Chenle asks, cursing under his breath when you wrap your fingers around his length.

You shake your head. “I’m on birth control.”

He gulps, lining himself up with your entrance. You sigh at the feeling, preparing yourself to sink down on him. As he slides inside, you throw your head back. The moment the two of you really connect, you realize you must’ve never been in love with someone before. There’s something about the way your heart beats for him that increases your pleasure. You’ve never felt this good before.

“Good fucking God,” he groans, grip tightening on you.

Once he’s fully in, you pause to look at him, finding his lips parted and his eyebrows furrowed. He kisses you gently and wraps his arm around you. You don’t waste anymore time and opt to set a steady pace, unafraid to let your sounds escape as his length drags slowly against your walls.

“That’s it.” His voice is strained, like he’s holding something back. He works his hips up gently every time you sink down. “You’re so fucking tight, Sunshine. You feel so good.”

You whimper at his words. The only thing you want is to pleasure him—so you pick up your speed, rolling your hips as you sink back down. When he squeezes your ass, your body jolts.

“How you feeling, baby?” he asks, massaging your butt as you work on top of him.

“Good.” Actually, like you’re on a cloud of pleasure, and every time you take him deep, you think how you want him to be inside you forever. “So good.”

He secures his grasp on you before flipping you over onto your back. You immediately wrap your legs around his waist and lock your ankles together. He moves faster, thrusting at a steady but mind blowing pace. Your eyes roll, and you can barely think coherently with his cock throbbing inside you. His chest presses against yours, the closeness making your body so much hotter.

Sweat forms on your skin, and you tangle your fingers in his hair to lead him down to kiss you. You moan into his mouth when his tip kisses your spot. Every vein in your body is on fire, every thrust brings you closer to Chenle. Sounds of your arousal sound with each movement, joined in harmony with both yours and Chenle’s moans.

He snakes his hand between the two of you, his finger connecting with your sensitive clit. Your pleasured cry is louder than you anticipated, but it pulls a similar sound from Chenle.

“You gonna cum for me?” he mumbles against your mouth. “C’mon, Sunshine, squeeze my cock.”

Your back arches into him, nails digging into his shoulders as your walls clamp down on him like a vice. Euphoria bursts throughout you, and you swear your vision blacks out for a second as Chenle’s thrusts pick up in pace. He fucks you through your orgasm until he lets out a string of curse words.

“Fuck, baby, where do you want it?” he asks, voice tinged with desperation. “I’m so close.”

“Inside. Cum in me.” You lift your hips to match his thrusts, dazed from your own orgasm. All you want is to feel him fill you up.

He drops his head on your shoulder, thrusting one last time before his warm cum coats your walls. Both of you lay there, unmoving. He kisses the base of your neck, panting as he tries to regain his breath.

You pull him up to kiss him, lips working gently on his. He hums against your mouth, nails scratching up and down your thigh.

“Was that worth missing practice?” You grin up at him.

“I’d miss a whole lot more than practice for this.” He smiles, shaking his head as he slowly pulls out of you. “Take a bath with me?”

“Only if you carry me there.” You push his shoulder. “My legs are a little…”

“Just the way they should be.” Chenle winks at you before he gets up to head into the bathroom to start the water.

Once it’s filled, he scoops you up in his arms and places you in the tub, somehow the perfect temperature, and climbs in behind you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you flush to him.

As you relax with him, allowing him to wash your body ever-so-delicately, you realize this is how it always should’ve been. You feel free, like you’ve been unshackled from your past just by loving Chenle and being loved by him.

It’s as if you’ve made it to your destination—like the journey matters just as much as the end. You look at him over your shoulder, and he kisses you so softly, you let out a sigh of content.

The teams were tied—Chenle was visibly irritated by the way the scoreboard had yet to change with minimal time left on the countdown. This has been the closest game all season—most of the others had been clean sweeps—yet here he is, during the last one of his college career, and he’s close to losing for the first time.

You and Jiyoon sit with Jisung’s parents and Chenle’s parents, leaning forward in deep concentration. Playing with the thread bracelet on your wrist, you watch in earnest as you see the time ticking down. Chenle blocks the ball from going into the net, effectively taking it and running across the court til he gets to the middle. The other team basically bombards him, but as he lines up to take his shot, you grab Jiyoon’s arm and squeeze it. The countdown hits three seconds when he throws it, and it’s like the ball moves in slow motion.

Your jaw hangs open, and right as the clock hits zero, the ball sinks into the net, putting Chenle’s team one point over the other. You and Jiyoon both launch up, shouting and cheering. He turns to you, as if to make sure you saw that, and when he finds you grinning at him, he moves toward you like it’s a reflex.

You leave your spot in the bleachers and meet him in the middle. He picks you up as you wrap your arms around him, and you laugh as you hold on tightly. His smile is wide as he sets you back on your feet, kissing you hard. You giggle against his mouth, and an overwhelming sense of pride settles in your chest.

“You did so well,” you praise him and press your lips to his cheek.

“It’s all ‘cause I had my good luck charm.” He squeezes you tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you reply.

The words had never left your mouth so easily, nor have you ever meant them as much as you do now. You’ve only just hatched into the person you’re supposed to be, and with Chenle by your side, you know it’s only going to get better from here.

But you love here, too, because in the distance, finally you see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Finally, you see your sea.

#nct dream #chenle #nct #nct imagines #nct dream smut #chenle smut #nct scenarios #nct smut #nct angst #nct fluff #chenle fluff #chenle angst #nct college au #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #chenle imagines

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farfromstrange · 2 months

Text

Matt Murdock || Masterlist

Find Me On AO3

⤹ NAVIGATION.

🫀 -> comfort for the aching hearts

🔥 -> Smut/explicit sexual content (18+ MINORS DNI)

🌻 -> Fluff

💧 -> Angst

🪐 -> All fics set in the universe of my longest and ongoing work Foreigner's God

⤹ ONE SHOTS:

☽ Sleep [matt murdock x reader] 🫀

✑ she can’t sleep and he’s there to make sure she’s alright.

☽ Costumer Service [matt murdock x afab!reader] 🔥🫀

✑ after a rough day at work, you lash out at your boyfriend. matt being matt, he makes it his mission to give you what you need to relax.

☽ Late Night Talking [matt murdock x fem!oc] 🌻🪐

✑ eliza has the weirdest questions on her mind in the middle of the night. three times she wakes up matt to answer her questions and the one time matt wakes her with an important question.

☽ Spiders [matt murdock x fem!reader] 🌻

✑ matt finds a spider in the house and he refuses to kill it so his girlfriend has to step up to do the job. she hates it as much as he does.

☽ Long-distance [matt murdock x afab!reader] 🔥 🌻

✑ Matt buys you a long-distance remote vibrator so he can play with you while he’s away – but there is a twist! He has one too, and he wants you to play with him while he plays with you. All over the phone, no touching. You can’t say no to that offer.

☽ Gifted Kid Burnout [matt murdock x f!reader] 💧🫀

✑ she’s exhausted, burned out and he wants nothing more than to help her.

☽ Stay Quiet [matt Murdock x f!reader] 🔥

✑ porn without plot in which Matty fucks you in the office (and Foggy gets traumatized for life)

☽ For You [matt murdock x f!reader] 🔥

✑ request: prompt 78 — loss of virginity (exactly what the prompt says it’s gonna be)

☽ Pointless [matt murdock x female!oc / matt x reader] 🌻 🪐

✑ song fic based on Pointless by Lewis Capaldi — a glimpse into how Matt views their relationship. (Part of the FG series, but no names are used)

☽ Ease The Pain [matt murdock x reader] 🔥🌻 🫀

✑ Matt helps to ease your period pains.

☽ Daddy Issues [matt murdock x reader] 💧🫀

✑ you flinch when Matt raises his voice for the first time and he learns about your daddy issues. Not the sexy kind.

☽ Angel On The Roof [matt murdock x reader] 💧 -> TW: SUICIDE

✑ Mental illness is silent until it isn’t, but then it’s often too late. Or, Matt accompanies a troubled stranger home on a couple of occasions, not realizing what he’s truly feeling until she’s already lost the battle against her own mind.

☽ Angel On The Roof (Your Version) -> Request; TW: MENTIONS OF SUICIDE AND SELF-HARM but with a happy ending!

✑ What if Matt’s word did manage to talk you off the edge and you find a way out of the dark hole that is depression? This is ‘Angel On The Roof’ from your POV with a happy ending.

☽ Useless [matt murdock x reader]

✑ Matt finds you during a depressive episode and he takes care of you. 💧🫀

☽ Promise Me [matt murdock x ofc] 🪐

✑ Foreigner’s God One-Shot — tender moments shared at night

☽ Good Boys Deserve To Be Taken Care Of [matt murdock x afab!reader] 🔥

✑ Matt looks good in the mornings. He always looks good, but the object of your attraction lies a bit lower this time, and you want to worship him like he deserves. (Or, an ode to Matt’s beautiful ass and the attention it deserves.)

✑ Part 2 to this can now be read here.

☽ Are You Okay? [matt murdock x reader] 🫀

✑ Sometimes it takes just one question or one person to make your shitty day less shitty.

☽ Back To December [matt murdock x reader] -> Request 💧 TW: DEATH

✑ Everything and everyone eventually slips through Matt Murdock’s fingers, and he doesn’t manage to save you in this one. (Hurt/ no comfort)

☽ Narcissist [matt murdock x reader] -> Request 💧🫀 TW: DOMESTIC ABUSE

✑ Trying to catch a break from your abusive boyfriend, you find yourself seeking refuge and a drink at Josie's in the middle of the night. It's where you bump into Matt Murdock, a charming stranger with the promise of a night of fun. After taking you home with him, it doesn't take him long to discover the dark nature of your need to escape.

☽ Honest Mistake [matt murdock x reader] -> Request 🌻

✑ After a night at Josie's, Foggy spends the night. When Matt wakes up the next day to kiss you good morning, he soon realizes that it's not you who is lying next to him but rather Foggy himself.

☽ Tupperware [matt murdock x f!reader] 🔥

✑ A conversation about kitchen supplies takes an unexpected turn…

☽ Matilda [matt murdock x f!reader] 💧🫀

✑ You tried moving on from your past, but some things still haunt you. Matt is there to comfort you and tell you that sometimes, it’s okay to just let it go, even if it’s your family.

☽ Brother [matt murdock x sister!reader] l -> Request 💧

✑ After an argument with Matt about something that seems so stupid now, you get kidnapped by a human trafficking ring and he has to save you, his sister, before something worse happens. He finds you battered and bruises, but at least you’re alive. (This is solely x sister!reader, nothing more)

☽ WORDLE [matt murdock x ofc] 🌻 🪐

✑ Eliza and Foggy play Wordle, and it soon turns into a very competitive game.

☽ Please, Be Okay [matt murdock x reader] 🫀💧

✑ When Matt doesn’t answer your texts or calls like he usually does, you start to expect the worst…

☽ You’re Losing Me [matt murdock x reader] 💧 -> Request

✑ Based on “You’re Losing Me” by Taylor Swift. You and Matt have a fight and you throw him out of the bedroom with a decision to make. The question is just, is he going to give up on you and prompt you to leave or will you two manage to fix what’s broken?

☽ Feisty [matt murdock x f!reader] 🔥 -> Request

✑ Matt decides he has to show you your place after you two have an argument.

☽ Sub Space [matt murdock x f!reader] 🌻🔥 -> Request

✑ After particularly rough sex with Matt, you find yourself lost in sub space and he takes care of you.

☽ Slipping Through My Fingers [matt murdock x teen!vigilante!reader] 💧 -> Request (Not a ship fic!) TW: Death.

✑ You get caught by yours and Matt’s enemies and he can’t save you.

☽ Naughty Girl [matt murdock x f!reader] 🔥 -> Request

✑ Messing around with Matt at work leads to an unwelcome interruption and your naughty side coming out, which Matt is not happy with…

☽ Cruel Revenge [matt murdock x f!reader] 🔥 -> Request

✑ Matt decides to mess with you at work this time when Foggy and Karen come to visit… (kind of a part 2 to Naughty Girl)

☽ Sweeter Than Fiction [matt murdock x afab!reader] 🔥 -> Request

✑ You decide to learn Braille and buy a rather… unconventional book to put your knowledge to the test, and Matt gets suspicious about why a book gets more attention than he does (and gets you wet)

☽ Just Let Me Love You [matt murdock x f!reader] 💧🫀

✑ You're struggling with your body image. Matt comforts you.

☽ Focus [matt murdock x f!reader] 🔥 -> Request

✑ Matt blindfolds you after you ask him to show you what it feels like to experience an orgasm blind.

☽ Is It Over Now? [matt murdock x neutral!reader] 💧

✑ inspired by “is it over now?” by Taylor Swift. Matt cheats on you and you deal with your thoughts. Slight Frank Castle x Reader and Elektra x Matt. (Warning: Matt slander. This is from the POV of someone who had their heart broken. Beware.)

☽ New Year’s Day [matt murdock x neutral!reader] 🌻

✑ Inspired by many Taylor Swift’s discography. You recount your relationship with Matt as he asks you an important question on New Year’s Eve.

☽ Sensory Deprivation [matt murdock x afab!reader] 🔥 -> Request

✑ You help Matt focus after the world gets just a little too much.

☽ Up Against The Wall [matt murdock x f!reader] 🔥

✑ PWP. You and Matt do it against the window after you pissed him off. That's it.

☽ Unicorns Need Love Too [matt murdock x f!reader] 🌶️ (semi-spice)🌻

✑ You’re ovulating, and your hormones are not taking it easy on you. Matt is there to help. Kind of. He’s a little shit.

☽ S.M.S [matt murdock x f!reader] 🔥

✑ Soft Morning Sex with Matt Murdock.

☽ Interview With The Vampire [matt murdock x f!reader] 🔥🧛💧

✑ You are the first journalist to interview Hell’s Kitchen’s resident vampire vigilante after he requested you personally to tell his story. (…) As it turns out, interviewing a vampire is a lot more complex than you expected it to be, and Matthew Michael Murdock has set his mind on ruining you for any other man to come.

⤹ ON-GOING SERIES:

☽ Foreigner’s God [matt murdock x fem!oc] 🪐 🌻 💧 🔥 ⇛ official tag is #foreigner’s god, if you want to search my profile! you should find all the chapters, previews, snippets, thoughts, etc. listed in chronological order.

☽ Total Eclipse Of The Heart [matt murdock x f!vampire!reader] 🔥🩸 ⇛ Part 1, 2, 3… ⇛ DARK FANTASY (dead dove do not eat) so you know what you’ll sign up for when you click the link. this shit filthy as hell. read at your own risk.

☽ Do No Harm [matt murdock x f!reader] 🌻 💧 🔥 ⇛ Doctor!Reader, slow-burn series

⤹ HEADCANONS:

☽ Going on vacation with Matt Murdock [matt Murdock x afab!reader] 🔥 🌻

✑ what it would be like to go on vacation with our dear Matthew and his heightened senses (he really loves us in this one)

☽ Totally random Matt Murdock headcanons that keep me up at night [matt murdock x reader] 🔥 🌻

✑ some headcanons (6, to be exact) that keep me up at night

⤹ THOTS & BLURBS:

☽ Going to Fogwell’s with Matt… [matt murdock x f!reader] 🔥

☽ Switch!Matt thots [matt murdock x afab!reader] 🔥

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asdfghjklmals · 7 months

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FATED TO LOVE YOU✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff, angst. talks about death and graves. WORD COUNT: 7.9k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, high school lovers.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend and satoru go back to her clan’s estate to meet her family. while they're there, they learn about a famous legend between their clans. AUTHOR'S NOTE: this fic follows 'meet the gojos' click here to read. omg, the two finally say the 'L' word to each other... get ready for more of big brother touya! and you already know who fuckin' stole the inverted spear of heaven in this au... because yes, i'm gonna write my own version of satoru getting his ass beat by toji next. artwork is from furuba anime. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

"are you bringing the gojo kid with you this time?" touya asked in a snide tone.

“first of all, he has a name, touya. it’s satoru.” you barked back at your brother over the phone. the man in question was laying his head in your lap, your fingers running through his soft white hair.

touya huffed, "is he going to use the front door this time?"

you glowered at satoru, who so innocently smiled at you after hearing touya's comment over the speaker. the first time you went back to osaka to visit your clan after moving into the dorms at jujutsu high was the first time you and satoru had been away from each other since you started 'spending more time together', for the lack of better words. satoru had teleported into your room and you didn't tell anyone in your clan that he was there. touya ended up walking in on you sneaking satoru food from the kitchen.

touya chuckled, "—i should've electrocuted his ass for sneaking into the estate. but since he's your only friend, i looked the other way.”

"whatever, touya. i have other friends besides satoru and their names are shoko, suguru, kento, and yu."

"well, we look forward to your visit. gramps is really excited to meet the gojo kid."

you corrected him again, "it's satoru—"

"right, satoru." touya corrected himself, "anyways, i'll talk to you later. sounds like we have a problem going on in the cursed tools storage room."

"wait wh—"

the line disconnected. you scoffed. how could touya just hang up on you like that? you looked down at the white haired sorcerer who's head was still laying in your lap, dozing off peacefully without a care in the world. he probably fell asleep when you started scratching his undercut. a relaxing, soothing gesture you always did for him so he could fall asleep in your arms... and in this case, in your lap.

later that day

"genkei is your grandpa. kanae is your grandma." satoru recited back confidently as he laid next to you on the picnic blanket in the middle of the jujutsu high sparring field.

you turned on your side, elbow propping you up, your palm supporting your head. you corrected him, "kanae is my mom. kanao is my grandma."

satoru face palmed his forehead in defeat, "i thought i was going to get it right this time."

you caressed his cheek with your palm, stroking gently on his cheekbone with your thumb, "it's okay, let's start over. what's my dad's name?"

"fujitaka." satoru answered confidently again.

you smiled at him and ruffled his hair. he was finally starting to remember the names of your family members.

"okay, let me try this again," satoru said as he took a deep breath, "genkei is your grandpa. fujitaka is your dad. kanao is your grandma. kanae is your mom. and touya is your brother."

"you got it!" you exclaimed, flinging your arms around him and kissing his cheek. you felt satoru's arms swing your body on top of his. you hugged him tightly. he started to smile proudly, seeing as you we're so excited about him getting all your family members' names correct.

you looked down at him, brushing your long hair behind your ear, "are you nervous?"

"who wouldn't be nervous? i'm meeting my girlfriend's family." satoru muttered back at you. the always-confident satoru gojo hated to admit his weaknesses, especially in front of you.

you booped his slender nose, "now you now know i felt when i met your family, mr. gojo."

"i don't know what you're talking about miss (l/n)." satoru feigned ignorance. he laughed at the thought of how much his family adored you, "—my family is obsessed with you."

you teased him, poking and pinching at his sides, "are they more obsessed with me than you are?"

"absolutely not!" satoru said in disbelief as he pushed your fingers away and clutched his chest dramatically. you rolled your eyes at the drama queen king named satoru gojo.

he wrapped his arms around you as you laid your head against his chest. you could feel his breath against the top of your head, fanning against your hair, his heart beating quickly.

satoru slyly shot his shot, "can i give you a lil' kiss so i can show you just how obsessed i am with you?"

"nice try." you laughed as you pushed yourself off from his chest and got up from the picnic blanket to start walking back to the dining hall. you had left satoru smiling like a fool behind you.

he got up to lean back on his elbows. he called out to you, "you're just gonna leave me hanging?"

"yup!" you yelled back at him, putting your hand up to wave goodbye. you didn't look back at him so that you could fight against the temptation of his beautiful blue eyes and that charming grin that always captivated you.

"so feisty." he chuckled, watching you walk away from him.

osaka, japan: at the (l/n) estate

your spirit birds few around in the sky above you and satoru. they were happy to be back home in the beautiful city of osaka. you led satoru through a cobblestone walkway where cherry blossom trees and white concrete walls lined the trail to the entrance of your clan’s estate. the entrance to your clan's estate was met with a red, arched hashi bridge.

"this is wayyy different from my place." satoru said in awe as he looked around at the surroundings, "there's a lot of red here at your clan's estate."

ever since you were young, you were told that red symbolized happiness and auspiciousness and that's why your clan's estate had so much red architecture. after crossing the hashi bridge, cobblestone steps led you and satoru to the front of the estate.

"miss (y/n)!" a familiar voice called out to greet you.

"arisa!" you waved back at the welcoming voice. arisa approached you and satoru, pointing at him and giving you the 'who is this?' look.

you made proper introductions, "arisa. this is my boyfriend—satoru gojo. satoru, this is arisa—she was my nanny growing up. she's the head of the housekeepers here at the estate."

satoru bowed politely, "nice to meet you. i'm satoru gojo of the gojo clan."

"it's nice to meet you too, satoru. let me escort you both to the tea room. i'm afraid it's been pure chaos at the estate today." arisa turned to you and frowned, "i'm sorry we weren't able to welcome you and satoru properly, miss (y/n)."

"does it have to do with the cursed tools storage room?" you asked arisa with concern, thinking about the converastion you had with touya yesterday.

she sighed and looked down at her feet, "i'm afraid so. master touya and grandmaster genkei have been investigating with the wind element users."

the wind element users were (l/n) clan members who were in charge of the estate's security and surveillance. you thought to yourself that it only made sense that touya and grandpa were working with them to find out how someone could get into your estate without being noticed. the security here was impeccable, even you had issues sneaking in and out growing up.

"is there anything we can do to help?" satoru asked, trying to be helpful. he noticed the way your eyebrows furrowed, the way your green eyes darkened to a brunswick green, and the way your lips pursed to the side in a half frown, half pout. that was the specific face you had when you were worried, and you had that face on right now.

arisa smiled at the both of you, "i believe master touya would rather have you and miss (y/n) enjoy your stay with no worries. you can leave the rest to us."

satoru nodded. you grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. you gave him a soft smile and squeezed his hand to show your appreciation, mouthing a quiet ‘thank you’ to him. he'd get brownie points with arisa for that one.

arisa led you and satoru to the tea room. your family used this room as a meeting room to receive guests, but mainly as a living room where everyone could sit down and enjoy tea and snacks. it was the most central room in the estate and it was one of your favorite rooms. during the days, you could open the ceiling up so that sunshine could flood the room. and during the nights, you could see the thousands of stars that filled the night sky.

"madam kanao should be here soon, i have to get back to prepare for dinner and to make sure the guest room is set up for mr. gojo." arisa reported back to you.

"where is grandma anyway?" you asked curiously.

"she's in a meeting with the elders at the moment. i believe master touya and grandmaster genkei should be there as well."

what in the world was happening that both of your grandparents and touya had to get involved? usually it was one or the other, but not both.

"there's fresh green tea in the pot, and i've left your favorite cookies on the tray." arisa said as she bowed. you watched as your old nanny scurried away, leaving you and satoru behind.

satoru tried to lighten the mood, nudging his elbow into your arm, "aren't you going to tell her that i'm sleeping in your room?"

"satoru—" you giggled, "i think this is serious business."

"sleeping accommodations is serious business too." he grinned back at you.

you and satoru sat down on the soft black couch. red throw pillows decorated the u-shaped sectional. satoru leaned forward and grabbed the porcelain teapot that was sitting on the stone coffee table. he poured you a cup of tea while he bit into a cookie. you sipped at your tea, feeling the warmth glide down your throat and into your tummy.

you watched satoru shove more cookies into his mouth, the sun's rays hitting the top of his head. his hair reflected so beautifully in the sun, it was almost a silver in this lighting. he always looked so radiant to you. you kissed the back of your teeth at how annoying it was that satoru looked good in any lighting and at any time of day. you gave yourself a self-satisfied smirk at the sight of the handsome sorcerer sitting next to you... and he was all yours.

moments later, you heard the sliding door to the tea room open. a woman with short grey hair, walked into the room. her eyes a blazing golden yellow. satoru watched as you stood up to bow to her. he followed your lead and got up from his seat to bow as well.

"hi grandma." you greeted the woman warmly. she reached for your arms, patting your shoulders and bringing you into her arms for a hug. she then looked over at satoru.

"is this who i think it is?" she asked. "is this the satoru gojo?"

"it is." you said with a proud smile. "grandma, meet my boyfriend."

"it's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am." satoru greeted your grandmother, bowing in her presence.

"ai! no bowing!" she smacked his shoulder playfully. satoru jumped back in surprise. she reminded him of his own grandmother in that instant. "please call me grandma kanao. the gojo clan and our clan are very good friends. your grandmother has told me a lot about you, satoru.”

"only good things i hope, grandma kanao." satoru chuckled as he emphasized addressing your grandmother. he scratched the back of his head nervously.

"oh, she told me over the phone yesterday all about how you stole my granddaughter's heart." grandma kanao teased the white-haired sorcerer. "are you two comfortable? is the tea still warm? did arisa give you enough cookies?"

you sighed at your grandma's overbearingness and sat back down on the couch. "everything is fine, grandma. what’s going on? where’s grandpa and touya?"

you watched as your grandmother's eyebrows furrowed. she looked concerned. "(y/n). the inverted spear of heaven has been stolen."

the inverted spear of what? you didn't think that you knew of that cursed object... but why did it sound so familiar?

"what does that cursed object do, grandma?"

"the inverted spear of heaven has the power to completely nullify a cursed technique. it can stop any technique that it comes in contact with."

your jaw dropped in surprise. you didn’t know that your clan had a cursed tool so powerful. that meant that this cursed tool could cut through your protective water barrier technique... that also meant that it could completely stop satoru's limitless technique and bypass infinity.

"why do we have a cursed tool like that?" you asked, "shouldn't that be locked away someplace safe?"

"that's the thing, my child. it was locked away someplace safe. the gojo clan entrusted that tool to us 400 years ago."

you had so many questions. why would the gojo clan give such a powerful cursed tool to your clan? especially one that could kill someone from their clan.

"satoru's sobo wanted me to tell you the legend of the six eyes and water technique user." grandma kanao said softly, “the legend also has to do with the inverted spear of heaven.”

satoru was ready to hear the story. he leaned back in his seat and crossed his legs, "finally! everyone keeps talking about this legend!"

"it's not known as public knowledge to the jujutsu society," grandma kanao chuckled, "—but between the gojo clan and the (l/n) clan, it's very important."

you put your hand on top of satoru's. he looked over at you and shot you a grin. "okay, grandma kanao! let’s hear it."

grandma kanao took a deep breath and began the story.

"400 years ago, the gojo clan's six eyes user at the time, fell in love with our clan's last water user. believe it or not, the six eyes user was a woman and the water user was a man, the opposite of you and satoru." she giggled at the realization. “isn’t it such a coincidence?”

"wait. you said they were in love?" you asked, eyes wide with surprise. you had never heard this story before, even when you found out that you were the water user. satoru cocked his head to the side, now he was very intrigued by this story.

"yes. they were. they were set to be married." grandma kanao continued, "they were the reason that the gojo clan and our clan have such a strong alliance. the reason that we have the inverted spear of heaven is because the six eyes gave our water user the spear for safekeeping. she knew that this spear could nullify the gojo clan's limitless and infinity, so consider it an act of trust between the two lovers."

"so my clan gave your clan the spear knowing that your clan would keep it safe from any enemies of the gojo clan..." satoru said out loud, putting 2+2 together.

you looked at him, "that must mean that they meant a lot to each other... to trust each other with a cursed tool like that."

the act of giving your lover the cursed tool that could ultimately lead to your death? you wondered if satoru would ask you to do the same for him if he was in the previous six eyes' shoes.

"since the spear is now missing... we've notified the gojo clan." grandma kanao sighed, "it's dangerous for you and satoru if we do not know the whereabouts of the cursed tool."

"that's probably why my clan elders wanted me to have my infinity on 24/7 now. they wanted me to work on reversed cursed techniques too..." satoru realized. if a cursed tool like that was stolen, that meant that he would always need to be on guard. he would really have to get his shit together now.

"until we find the spear, the both of you will just have to stay alert." grandma kanao warned the both of you.

"do we know who stole it?" you asked.

grandma kanao frowned and shook her head, "all we know is that it's a man with dark hair, possibly from the zen’nin clan."

your grandma knew better than to point fingers without proof. she ended the conversation about who they thought the culprit was. the three of you sat there in silence sipping tea and eating cookies.

"grandma, what else do you know about this couple?" you asked curiously, trying to cut through the awkwardness.

you wanted to know more about this love story. what were the chances that you, the water user of the (l/n) clan, would fall in love with satoru, the six eyes user of the gojo clan, in this lifetime?

grandma kanao pondered, trying to recall any stories of the legendary couple, "i believe your grandfather said that our last water user died trying to protect the six eyes."

you felt gutted hearing that. you wished that they got a happily ever after... but that meant that you wouldn't have met satoru if they did. was death going to be the same fate for you and satoru too? you felt his hands squeeze yours, trying to comfort you and shoo away any negative thoughts in your mind.

"i think i know what that fight was." satoru added to the conversation, "my grandparents told me that the six eyes user and a ten shadows technique user fought to their deaths for the aristocracy. the kamo clan and the zen'nin clan must have worked together on it if a (l/n) clan member died."

satoru remembered the story you told him the night he took you to shibuya for your birthday. the kamo clan was your clan's enemy due to the fact that your last water user could control blood. (read 'love at first fight' here)

"that's exactly right, satoru." grandma kanao said. she sighed, "it's almost too good to be true, seeing you and my granddaughter together. your sensei, masamichi yaga, mentioned that you two could be reincarnations of them. if you believe in reincarnation that is.”

reincarnation. the rebirth of a soul inside a new body. could all of this be true? so many thoughts were racing inside your head about it. you felt sick to your stomach.

"well, that should be enough story telling for now." grandma kanao said as she stood up from her spot on the couch. "i'm sure touya and your grandfather want to see you and satoru."

you and satoru watched as your grandmother turned to walk out of the tea room. you both stood up and looked at each other. would this change the way you and satoru viewed each other and your relationship? satoru didn’t look like he was affected by the information, but you, you looked like you were starting to question your own existence.

as you and satoru stepped into the hallway, two sets of eyes peer over at you. one golden-yellow, and one ruby-red.

"grandpa!" you called out, smiling. you ran into your grandpa's arms, hugging him. you dragged him back to meet satoru, "grandpa, this is my boyfriend, satoru gojo."

you turned to satoru, "satoru, this is my grandpa and legendary fire user, genkei (l/n)."

"it's an honor to meet you!" satoru said out loud, quickly bowing to your grandfather. he turned to touya, "it's nice to see you again as well, touya-san."

you had never heard satoru add honorifics to anyone's name in the couple of months you’ve known the man. he was really trying to put in an effort to impress your family. you coughed, trying to hide your laugh.

"the gojo clan's treasure." grandpa genkei laughed, "let me take a look at you, son!" he put his hands on satoru's shoulders, patting them firmly.

“call me grandpa or grandpa genkei. i’m sure my wife has already told you to call her grandma as well.” your grandfather added. “—how are you ojii and sobo? and your parents?”

“uhhh—”

"awww, gramps, leave the kid alone." touya interrupted your grandfather bombarding satoru with questions, "how about you and (y/n) catch up while i have a chat with the gojo kid."

you shot a stone cold glare at your bother, "his name is satoru."

"right, right. satoru." touya rolled his eyes at you, "hey, satoru! how about we head to the sparring dojo?"

you could see signs of nervousness in satoru's body language. whenever he was nervous, his blue eyes leered and his shoulders tensed. you walked up to him and whispered in his ear, "you’ll be fine, babe."

satoru gulped as you pat his chest, you looked over at your brother, "don't scare my boyfriend off, please."

"wouldn't dream of it." touya shot back with a grin, "i wanna see what the kid can do."

you and your grandparents watched as touya led satoru to the sparring dojo. satoru looked back at you with worried eyes. you blew him a kiss and waved goodbye as they turned down the hallway.

the sparring dojo

behind him, touya shut the door to the dojo. he wiped the dust off his hands and stretched his arms and legs. satoru gulped, he was so nervous right now. the last time he was this nervous was when he took you to shibuya for the first time (he liked to consider that night your first date).

when touya turned to face him, satoru straightened his posture and turned on his infinity, ready to get zapped by touya’s cursed technique at any second.

touya (l/n). the king of close combat. that was his nickname when he was a student at jujutsu high. because touya wielded an electric cursed technique, his close combat was lethal. he could paralyze people and curses when fighting with his cursed technique.

satoru thought that he himself was pretty damn skilled at close combat, but was he on par to be able to spar with your brother?

satoru started to apologize for his last visit, “first off—i’d like to say sor—”

“no need to apologize about sneaking into the estate from your last visit. (y/n) brought you back here for a reason. it's obvious my little sister likes you.” touya brushed satoru off, he was going to ask the million dollar question instead, “satoru gojo! answer this. what do you even like about my sister?”

satoru stood in the middle of the dojo, dumbfounded that touya wasn’t going to fight him to test his strength or his jujutsu. instead, he was going to attack him with questions about his relationship with you. touya had already found out satoru gojo's weakness. it was anything pertaining to you.

"what could the six eyes from the gojo clan like about my stubborn, feisty little sister?" touya curiously asked.

“well,” satoru gulped nervously, “i like her personality.”

satoru shot himself in the foot for the most basic answer he just gave your brother. that was definitely not going to win him over.

“boringggg.” touya sang, “come on, kid. you’re not convincing me that you actually like her. i know for a fact her personality is not that great. i’m her brother, i can say that.”

satoru felt like his chest was going to explode. he couldn’t breathe normally or focus because he was so nervous. he stammered when he tried to answer again, “i—i like how caring she is towards others. i even like how feisty she gets when she’s mad. i like her eyes, how they change to different shades of green depending on her mood. i like her laugh because it’s… cute.”

touya nodded his head and folded his arms. he liked what he heard so far, “—is that all?”

“no, not at all!” satoru shouted as he stepped foward to face your older brother with the little confidence he had left, “—i like that she doesn’t care about how i’m supposed to be the strongest or that i'm the first in 400 years to have the six eyes. she's the only person that has ever looked past all my flaws… and there are a lot of them. she's special to me. and i want to be with her for as long as she'll let me."

"satoru," touya started to say, "you know... me and my sister lost our parents at a young age. i grew up taking care of her. there's nothing in this world that i wouldn't do for my sister. and as her older brother, i'm supposed to protect her—"

satoru interrupted touya, "—i told her i was going to protect her and i swore to my clan elders that i would too. you don't have to worry about that."

satoru thought about his promise he made, how he would protect you from the kamo clan or whatever danger may come your way. he hoped that you knew he would do anything in his power to keep you safe from any harm. he would risk his life for you... and that's what touya wanted to know.

“do you really like her that much?” touya asked satoru. now this was definitely a trick question. touya was waiting for the right answer. there was one more thing he wanted to hear.

satoru scoffed and looked touya straight in his golden-yellow snake-like eyes, “i don’t just like her. i love her.”

“love is a strong word for an 18 year old.” touya grinned, “—if you love her as much as you say you do, you better promise me and my grandparents that you’ll take care of her too.”

“i’d even lay down a binding vow.” satoru said with no fear. he knew that binding vows made with others have a higher penalty than self-made binding vows.

“—and get shot down by the binding vow’s penalty as soon as you make her cry?” touya laughed out loud. “i like you, satoru gojo. i hope you stick around. i’d like to consider you as my brother someday.”

satoru blinked twice, confused on what just happened here, “wait—does this mean—”

“you have my approval.” touya said, “i actually never disapproved of you, kid. i’m just playing ‘big brother’ here. i knew from the moment i saw you and my sister interact for the first time at the jujutsu high that you were gonna be someone special in her life… whether it be her lover or her friend.”

“thank you…” satoru sighed in relief. “i swear i love (y/n). i’d do anything for her.”

“i believe you, kid.” touya said as he attempted to pat satoru’s back, unable to actually pat his back. "—you have your infinity on."

"well… yeah. there's no way in hell i was going to get electrocuted by you." satoru laughed.

“let me rough you up a bit, or my sister is going to say something.” touya laughed. his loud laugh always boomed throughout the estate. your brother gave off hardcore golden retriever energy.

satoru continued to laugh alongside him, bro-hugging touya, “anything but the face. she’ll be devastated if you get the face.”

later that night

satoru noticed at dinner that you were unusually quiet around your family. he watched as you pushed around the food on your plate with your chopsticks, not making eye contact with your family members, and not engaging in any conversation. you barely even looked at him.

he whispered in your ear. "hey. are you okay?"

"i'm fine." you lied, "i'm just tired."

satoru gojo swore he had a phd in (y/n)ology. he could read you like a book. he knew what ticked you off and what made you squeal with delight. but tonight, he wasn't so sure what was bothering you.

you listened as touya and your grandparents got to know satoru on a deeper level. they asked him about his family and what it was like growing up in the gojo clan, what he liked and didn't like. it was like satoru was already a part of the family.

you were happy that satoru finally got the chance to meet your grandparents and touya, but deep down, something felt off. after dinner, you asked touya to entertain satoru so that you could take a shower. and after your shower, you snuck off to your favorite place in the estate, the red pagoda in the lily pad pond.

as a child, you would come to this very pagoda to escape the hellish and tiring training you went through as the clan's water user. you always felt at peace here, that you could gather your thoughts without any interruption. the pagoda had an amazing view of the estate's pond that was filled with lily pads. it wasn't as big as the gojo clan's koi pond, but it was grand enough for you and your clan. (read 'meet the gojos' here)

you started to question if the feelings that you felt for satoru were actually real or if it was because of all this reincarnation bullshit. was it just a coincidence that you and satoru ended up finding each other in this lifetime? were you actually meant to be with him?

you swore that what you felt for him was genuine. you didn’t think you could care about someone so much that it hurt you so deeply inside. that the mere thought of losing them would be so crippling.

the voice that always made your ears perk and your heart race called out to you. "—so this is where you go to run away from your problems."

satoru sat down next to you, locking his arms around his knees. he leaned his head over to watch you. you stared out into the pond, soft yellow lights reflected off the surface of the water from the estate's open windows. crickets chirped in the background, a crisp breeze filled the air around you.

"how did you find me?"

"your brother told me that you like to come here whenever you have a lot on your mind. how about a penny for your thoughts?"

you changed the subject, “are you going to tell me what you and touya talked about in the sparring dojo?”

satoru looked out at the distance in front of him and smirked, “nope. it’s a secret between just us men.”

“does it have to do with me?”

“—i can’t say a word.”

“does it have to do with how much you like me?”

“—not saying anything, sweetheart.”

it was time for a cheap shot, “well… i guess that means no more kisses for satoru ‘i-keep-secrets-from-my-girlfriend’ gojo.”

satoru sat there and stared at you in disbelief, “—that is so unfair.” 'what kind of girlfriend uses no kisses as a threat?' he thought to himself.

you got up from your seat. your hair flowing behind you as a conniving grin spread across your face. he was such a sucker for you.

3... 2... 1...

“wait!” satoru called out to you, grabbing your hand. “i guess i can tell you this much… it wasn’t about how much i like you.”

you turned around to look back at satoru, his face was as red as a tomato.

“—it was about how much i love you.” satoru admitted, “i love you, (y/n).”

this was the first time satoru had ever told you that he loved you.

“i love you too, satoru...”

you felt satoru's arms pull you into his strong embrace. tears filling your eyes. you bit at your bottom lip, swallowing the discomfort in your throat. he let go of you and positioned you in front of him, staring down at you with worried blue eyes. he cupped your cheeks with his hands.

"why are you cry—"

"satoru," you interrupted him, "do you think that we're only together because we're reincarnations of our ancestors from 400 years ago? do you think they did some weird-binding-vow-lifelong-love-spell before they died?"

"is it so wrong if they did?" satoru asked as he brushed your tears away with his thumb, "—it's kinda romantic if you ask me."

"i just want to be 100% sure that my feelings for you are really mine."

"just know that no one gets to tell me what to do or who to love." satoru said, "—so no weird-binding-vow-lifelong-love-spell is going to change my mind on how i feel about you."

you sniffled, thinking of all the negative outcomes and possibilities, "what if it's actually a hidden curse or something...?"

he stared at you for a moment before he started to speak, "grams tells me that there's no curse more twisted than love... and if it's a curse, then i'm pretty sure i'm fated to love you."

and quite frankly, satoru didn’t give a damn if loving you in this lifetime was a curse. he’d live as the cursed one if that was the case.

satoru leaned down to capture your lips with a kiss. you wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling his soft, strawberry flavored lips on yours.

he asked confidently and just a bit smugly as if he already knew the answer to the question he was about to ask, "so what do you want to do now that you know all of this information? you gonna leave me, princess? we gonna break up?"

“satoru—” you muffled his name as he kept kissing you, “there’s one thing i know for sure, and it’s that i want to be with you. even if it’s some weird binding vow.”

satoru stopped kissing you to look back down at you. he chuckled while repeating your words, “even if it's some weird binding vow, huh?”

you looked up at him, running your fingers up his undercut. he melted at the action, sighing in your grasp.

“how much do you think those two loved each other?” you asked satoru. “you think they loved each other more than we do?”

“hmmm, maybe. but there’s no way the previous six eyes had more game than me.” satoru joked.

“you have got to get better jokes, babe.” you giggled as satoru squeezed your hips, pulling you closer to him. he returned to peppering kisses on your cheek, slowly moving to the corner of your lips.

“you think—” he muffled your words by kissing you, on purpose this time, “you think the previous six eyes was the one who made the move?”

“babe.” satoru pleaded, “please stop talking and just kiss me back.”

the next morning

after the conversation you had with satoru last night at the pagoda, you had never felt more sure that your feelings for this white haired, blue eyed, special-grade idiot was real. as you laid next to satoru, you fit perfectly in his arms, just like two puzzle pieces.

"god, i love this custom futon." satoru groaned as he stretched his arms and legs, attempting to wake his body up on this fine morning.

"i thought you slept in my dorm room because you wanted to cuddle with me, not sleep on my custom futon." you teased, pulling the blanket to your side of the bed.

satoru chuckled, rubbing the sleepiness away from his eyes. he fired back at you, "cuddling you is just a plus. the king size futon is totally why i'm there."

one thing that you loved about satoru was that the best parts of him complimented the best parts of you. you made each other better in every way. you were excited for the future together now that you've cleared the air about your true and honest feelings for satoru. your next focus was to help your clan and the gojo clan find the inverted spear of heaven.

you turned back to face him, nuzzling your face in his bare chest. he smelled just like his eucalyptus body wash.

"you know what's nice? no one barging into your room randomly. i swear my grams was soooo not discrete when you visited." satoru said as he rolled his eyes.

"touya already checked on us four times. you were sleeping."

"four?!" satoru choked out, "you weren't laying on top of me or anything were you?"

the last thing he wanted touya to think was that he was getting frisky with his little sister in her childhood bedroom under his roof.

"satoru!" you laughed, "and so what if we were cuddling?"

"i'm trying to make it out of your clan's estate without getting zapped by your brother... don't you know he's called the king of close combat? he can paralyze people!"

you drew circles on his chest with your fingertips, "i guess you better work on that infinity being on 24/7 then."

"sure, babe… anyways what's the agenda today?" satoru asked, putting his arms behind his head. he watched you roll out of the bed to change into your clothes for the day. you took his bag of toiletries out of his suitcase to throw at him.

you smiled softly at him, "get ready to have breakfast cause after that, you’re going to meet my parents."

at the (l/n) clan's family grave

ever since you were little, you and touya made it a routine to visit your parents' graves regularly. touya would tell you stories about your parents so you would never forget them. they had passed away when you were so young, so he wanted to make sure that their memories lived on with you.

since satoru would never be able to meet them physically, you thought this would be the best way to ‘introduce’ him to your parents.

in the japanese tradition, a visit to one’s grave starts by cleaning the grave of your loved one, presenting your offerings, and then praying and lighting incense. you and satoru washed your hands to ‘purify’ them and filled a water pail to head to the area where your parents were laid to rest.

"mom, dad." you started to say as you approached the two headstones, "this is my boyfriend, satoru."

satoru grinned at you and then looked towards your parents' headstones, "mr. (l/n), mrs. (l/n). i'm satoru gojo... and i wanted to tell you both that i love your daughter."

your turned to stare at satoru. you didn't know he was going to say that, nor did you ask him to say that. you were surprised to say the least.

he continued on, "i made a promise to your daughter and myself, and to my clan... and now i'm promising your clan that i will protect her. so this is my promise to you both as well."

you felt tears forming in your eyes. what kind of boyfriend would come to your parents' grave with you to have a conversation with your parents like this? how were you so lucky to have a thoughtful boyfriend like satoru?

you quickly brushed your tears away. "satoru. you didn't have to do that. you're so cheesy."

"that's so rude to say in front of your parents, (y/n)." satoru gasped, teasing you. "why not tell your parents the promise i made to everyone...?"

"i mean… sure... but you didn't have to say you loved me as an introduction for yourself." you giggled. “you can just say, ‘hi, i’m satoru gojo from the gojo clan.’”

satoru smiled at you, "i want everyone to know that i love you though."

he took the pail from your hand, gently pouring water over the two headstones. after cleaning the headstones, you and satoru placed a plate of oranges and apples in front of them. you lit a stick of incense for the both of you, silently bowing and praying. once finished, you stuck the incense stick into the holder.

it was as if time stood still while you and satoru sat around your parents grave to just talk. none of the conversations were about anything important, it was just simple talk about sweet nothings. you were just grateful he wasn’t weirded out by spending time here the way you and touya did when you were younger.

satoru even talked to your parents as if they were still alive and well. he asked your mother, ‘did you know your daughter has the world’s worst attitude in the mornings? god forbid she doesn’t get a full 8 hours of sleep.’ after that, he even said to your father, ‘sir, i wish you were still here so i could show you my techniques. i heard yours were pretty cool too.’

while you watched satoru talk to your parents’ headstones, you wished so badly that your parents could’ve met him so they can see why you loved him so much. your mother would’ve have loved him, probably more than she loved you. and your father? he would’ve loved to have such a strong sorcerer be his daughter’s boyfriend… he’d probably consider satoru as a second son.

satoru could see and feel how your heart ached at any mention of your parents, and he wanted you to know that your family was important to him too. he was going to try his best to win the approval of your entire family. he didn’t have to try hard though, your family wasn’t that hard to please. they just wanted you to be happy.

"ready to go?" you asked satoru after noticing the sun setting. "i'm sure touya is looking for us. it’s almost dinner time."

"sure." satoru smiled back at you, grabbing your hand.

“bye mom and dad.” you waved.

“bye mom and dad!” satoru said with a grin.

you looked up at him, “mom and dad, huh? you guys are already that close?”

“yeah, actually. your mom says she sees me like a son now. and your dad said that he approves of me as a son in law.” satoru said as-a-matter-of-factly, knowing damn well he made that up.

you giggled at his ridiculous statement and clung to his arm. you walked back to the estate more in love with satoru than you were when you first arrived here.

********************************************

once you and satoru were out of sight, two feet stepped out from behind the shadows of your parents' headstones and smiled.

"doesn't she look happy with the gojo kid, mom and dad? he’ll take care of her, don’t you two worry." touya whispered to your parents' as he watched you and satoru walk back to the estate together. he zapped a stick of incense with his cursed technique and quietly bowed and prayed before heading back to the estate as well.

after dinner

"remember how you showed me your family portraits when i went with you to meet your grandparents?" you asked satoru. "want to see ours?"

"yeah. let's see who you resemble the most." satoru wondered as you led him down the hallway where the family portraits were hung.

"is that you?" satoru asked incredulously. he pointed at a little girl with long black hair in pigtails, precious sparkling green eyes smiling back at him. "you looked like a little brat, babe."

"you found me." you laughed and reluctantly admitted, "—and i was a brat growing up."

you hoped that if you ever had kids in the future, they would not inherit the attitude you had as a child. your grandma always said that the way you acted as a child would come back to spite you in the form of your own offspring.

satoru continued to look around in the picture. he could spot your grandparents and touya towards the center. he assumed the woman who was holding you was your mom, kanae.

"my mom had long dark blue hair and the most beautiful green eyes." you started to say, "everyone else usually gets the yellow eyes or red eyes in the family since grandma and grandpa have them, but i was lucky to get her green eyes."

the man standing next to your mother was obviously your father, fujitaka. your father had black hair, and the same leering yellow eyes as touya. touya resembled your father so much growing up that he always heard that he was his father's mini-me.

"well..." satoru sighed as you took his hand to lead him back to the tea room, "i guess i have to go back to your parents and thank them for creating the most perfect human being for me."

you laughed and gently hit his chest with the back of your palm, "you're too much, babe."

satoru continued to spout his nonsense sarcastically. "it was like you were put on this earth for me. it's fate. god's will. the divine decree. destiny some may say."

you rolled your eyes at him. sometimes, satoru could be so cheesy and would say the most ridiculous things. you wondered where your smart-alecky boyfriend was. however, you didn't hate when satoru tried to be romantic, so you figured you'd just listen to his ridiculous comments for now. you held his hand, bringing it towards your lips to plant soft kisses on his palm.

“even if it was fate or destiny.... whatever you want to call it. i’d choose you again in every lifetime, satoru. you’re like... my soulmate.”

“soulmate, huh? look who's being 'too much' now.” satoru smiled cheekily, “—you’re not guaranteed to meet your soulmate in every lifetime though.”

“consider me a lucky girl then.”

“nah, i think i’m the lucky one...” satoru mumbled as he leaned in for a kiss.

EXTRA:

as soon as you got back to the jujutsu high dorms, you asked satoru the same question he asked you when you met his family.

"so..." you started to inquire, "what did you think about my family?"

"your grandma reminds me of my grams. and your grandpa's cursed technique was pretty cool." satoru added. "i met your instructors and trainers. no wonder you hated learning jujutsu. they were intense."

satoru only met your grandparents, touya, and a handful of family members and housekeepers during this visit. a majority of your family members were on vacation or not at the estate during the time of your visit. you were relieved it was a lax visit because you knew your cousins would have been all over satoru. the next holiday back to the estate would be unavoidable though.

satoru said with a sigh, "your brother still scares the shit outta me."

"but he approves of you!" you clung to his uniform sleeve. "are you going to tell me what you and touya talked about in the sparring dojo?"

"i already told you. it was that i loved you." satoru mumbled, wanting to change the subject immediately. he looked like the world’s biggest simp for you in the sparring dojo that day and there was no way he could tell you all the things he said without turning as red as a stop sign.

you huffed and pouted, "babe, you were in there for a good 45 minutes though. how about a kiss for some intel?”

“i don’t kiss and tell.” satoru said with a grin.

you realized that satoru really wasn't going to tell you what touya and him talked about, so you let it slide for now.

and over a decade later, you still won't know what satoru and touya talked about in the sparring dojo.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

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whatdoeseverybodywant · 1 month

Text

Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 1

Here it is, the sequel to All Falls Down

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

All OC Characters belong to me

taglist: @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci1996 @jeyusos-girl @melaninsugababy @baconeggndcheez @bemybabiibish @nbanenefrmdao @jstarr86 @purplehairgawdess @theninthwonder @arination99 @harmshake @alyyaanna @empressdede @m3llowww @jeysbae @badbitchcentralinc @raya-hunter01 @msbigredmachine @dietothemusic @2-muchsauce @tian-monique @leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @allmyn1ghts @woahthatshitfat @paigereeder @mindairy @amandairene88 @reignsboy19 @wrestlingprincess80 @abadbitchblogs @cyberdejos2 @saintaquarius @bebesobrielo @scarlettnoir01 @venusesworld @meanniam

SIX MONTHS AGO

Kiyana closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. “I can’t do this anymore Josh. I can’t even go out with some friends without you accusing me of sleeping around.”

“Whatchu’ want me to think Kiyana? Look at how you about to leave this house.” Kiyana rolled her eyes. She had worked so damn hard to get her body back to the way it was before she had her boys. She was going to show it off every chance she got.

“You never had a problem with how I dressed before!” She responded, raising her voice.

“That was before you decided that your body no longer belonged to me!” Kiyana narrowed her eyes and stomped towards him.

“You have no fucking right. You decided to sleep with that bitch first and when i give you a taste of your own medicine you can’t fucking handle it. You been hounding me since I agreed that we can try to make things work. Why are you so damn paranoid Joshua? I’m here, I’m still here with you after everything you did to me. Get the fuck over what happend with me and Joe and let’s move the fuck on like we agreed.” Josh turned his face up at her before sucking his teeth and stomping up the stairs, slamming the door to their room.

PRESENT DAY

Kiyana had never seen Josh look so defeated as he sat at the other end of the table with his lawyer. He had his hand folded together and would not look up from the table. He hadn’t even spoken since he walked into the room, only giving his lawyer a head nod or shake when asked a question.

It She had tried so damn hard to move forward with her marriage with Josh, but they were always walking on eggshells around each other. It wasn’t like before when they were two people who fell in love in highschool and thought they would be together forever. It was different. For Kiyana, it was like waking up next to a stranger everyday for six months. He was still Josh, he just wasn’t her Josh. He wasn’t the same Josh she fell in love with in highschool. His affair tarnished her image of him and she couldn’t pretend anymore.

“She can keep it.” She heard Josh talk and she blinked, focussing her attention back to Josh and his lawyer. “She can keep the car and the house, she can keep everything.. All I want is to see my kids when I’m off the road.” Kiyana and her lawyer shared a look before she nodded her head in agreement with what Josh wanted.

“Ok, what about spousal support?”

“I don’t need it.” Kiyana said and for the first time in weeks Josh actually looked at her. “I called in a couple of favors and I'll be starting back at my old job on Monday.”

“Kiyana, take the damn support.”

“No.” She said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t need it, Joshua. I can support myself. I don’t want anything from you.”

“Wow.” Josh scoffed, staring Kiyana down. “That’s really how you feel? After twenty-three years -”

“Fuck them twenty-three years.” She scoffed, with a roll of her eyes. “You had an affair for four months! Them twenty three years mean shit now.” She held out her hand to her lawyer and he placed the pen in her hand. “Where do I sign?”

Kiyana let out a sigh as she pulled into the driveway to Trinity and Jon’s house. The last thing she wanted to do was be at a birthday party with her ex-family. She and Josh had only been officially divorced for about 4 hours.

She already had it in her mind that she was only going to drop the boys off, she was not staying at this party. She forced a smile on her face as she and her boys walked into the backyard of Trinity and Jon’s house. The smile faltered a bit as the backyard went quiet with all of Josh’s family members staring at her.

Clearing her throat, she held her head up high as she walked over to where Kamari had run over too.

“Hi.” She said to Josh handing him Kairo who was already trying to jump out her arms to get to his dad. Josh said nothing to her as he took Kairo and Kiyana resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She bent down and placed a kiss on Kaiden’s and then Kamari’s forehead. “Daddy will drop you guys off at home ok.” She said to them, cutting her eyes to Josh who nodded his head in agreement.

“You’re not staying?” Kaiden asked, grabbing her hand with a pout on his face and Kiyana almost folded.. almost.

“No bubba.” Kiyana said softly. “Don’t you wanna spend time with daddy and your cousins?” She pointed over to where Kamari had run off to with their cousins, playing in the bouncy house and Kaiden nodded but still didn’t let go of her hand.

Josh handed Kairo over to his sister and bent down so he was eye level with Kaiden. “It’s okay Kai. You gon see mommy later okay.” Kaiden nodded and gave his mommy a kiss on the cheek before running over to where his cousins were playing.

“Okay you can go now.” Kiyana let out a sigh then chuckled. She knew it was coming. “Nobody wants you here after what you did to my brother.” Kiyana rose back to her full height and turned around to face Josh’s sister Melvania. She smirked as she took in the look on Mel’s face. Melvania never liked Kiyana over some petty cheerleader bullshit that happened back in high school.

“Never said I was staying ,Mel.” Kiyana rolled her eyes. She nodded her head at Josh as went to walk out of the backyard.

“ Good riddance whore.” Kiyana her Melvania whisper and giggle with one of their cousins. Tired of the disrespect, Kiyana turned around to face them.

“I don’t see how I'm the bad guy in this situation. I had my little fling after your brother had his affair for four months and I still stayed with his ass trying to fix our marriage.” Mel scoffed and shrugged her shoulders.

“You still cheated on my brother.” Kiyana had to laugh. Because Mel always made excuses for Josh’s and Jon’s behavior. In Mel’s eyes her brothers could do no wrong.

“After he cheated on me and told the bitch he was planning on divorcing me first!.” Kiyana wanted to smirk at the shocked look on Melvania’s face at the information she just learned.

“Come on Yana. Let me walk you to your car.” Jon had come over to put out the fire between Kiyana and his sister after seeing his twin stand there and watch the whole thing.

Kiyana glared at Josh before storming off from the party. “I’m sorry If i ruined the vibe for Jayla’s party. I know alot of your family doesn’t want me around.” Jon only nodded and watched as she got into her car. He felt bad for Kiyana. Most of her second family had turned their back on her because Josh wasn’t telling the whole truth.

“Listen, you know me and Trin always got your back right.” When Kiyana nodded, Jon continued. “I just don’t think it's a good time to be around right now. Just for the time being.” Kiyana felt her heart drop into her stomach.

“Wow. You know what..” Kiyana couldn’t even get the words out. Jon had basically just told her to stay away from his family.

“Kiyana, I’m just saying -”

“I understand what you’re saying Jonathan.” She said as the tears started coming down her face. “Message received loud and clear.”

SOOO... first chapter of the sequel... y'all feeling it or nah?

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

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songsofadelaide · 5 months

Note

Your Megumi Drabble of him teaching you the hand symbols but ! BUT! Imagine its years later and you both are making shadow puppets with your toddler. ;-;

DONT MIND ME IN MY FEELS

Hello! Thank you so much for all the love for Shadows as one. This idea is so cute and wholesome and I hope you don't mind if I write something about it. 🥺

shadows as one.

cw: female reader, future fic, established marriage, slice of life, child oc (fushiguro mikoto), papa!megumi being a li'l prankster — "you'd expect something like that from gojo-san! Not you!"

~ 20XX

"This is a bunny," you said with a smile as you tenderly moulded the soft little hands in yours to form the shadow puppet of a rabbit, the silhouette on your living room wall amusing your child so much that he didn't even pay attention to the way you gently squeezed his fingers for the form to stay put.

"Bunny!"

"Yes, a bunny!" You happily echoed his statement, trying your best not to engulf him into another embrace.

But you couldn't help it. Mikoto became the light of your world the moment he was born. It was impossible not to fall in love with him at first sight when he looked so much like his father— dark hair, length, feathery lashes that fanned out and framed his deep blue eyes... The nurse couldn't blame you for nearly snatching him off her arms when she was handing him to you.

And when Megumi first cradled your son in his arms, he was completely enamoured, even though it was like he was looking at a mirror. Dispelling the vestiges of his troubled childhood was no easy task— and he even questioned his own capabilities as a father— but he persisted to live in the present in the arms of his wife.

Mikoto beamed as he placed his small hands in his father's own, his cheeky expression never leaving his face as Megumi softly shaped his hands into the snout of a familiar canine.

"And this is a—"

You and your husband nearly fell off your couch when Mikoto just did the unthinkable.

The surprise appearance of the pristine white dog startled him so much that he couldn't help but let out a tearful wail of shock. You swiftly got over your disbelief when you heard him crying, his tiny hands hurriedly clutching onto you once you were within his reach.

"Where on earth—" you started, brows furrowed in confusion. It was too early for Mikoto to sense cursed energy let alone manifest it. And for him to possess his father's inherited technique meant—

"—hgk."

"Wh—" You were startled by the strange noise that sounded like someone being choked. You turned to Megumi, expecting him to be in deep thought, but all you saw was your husband sitting on the couch once more, his quivering lips pursed to a thin line in an attempt to hold his laughter.

"Megumi, I never pegged you as the kind of dad who'd make fun of his own kid," you clicked your tongue at your husband as you gently bounced your son in your arms. "You'd expect something like that from Gojo-san! Not you!"

"I-I'm sorry," he stated with a stifled voice before eventually sighing to himself. "I didn't expect Mikoto to be scared of the Divine Dog..."

"I suppose the rabbits wouldn't have been any different," you said with a sigh as well. "Then again, they're much tinier..."

"Give me," Megumi stated as he got up, gently lifting your son out of your arms and into his. He ran his thumb over Mikoto's warm cheeks. He didn't want to appear insincere, but he couldn't help but smile in delight at how emotive his son was, so different from when he was younger. "Papa's sorry, Mi-kun..."

His tiny version could only blink his blue eyes at him before eventually pointing to the Divine Dog in your living room. "Big dog..."

"Yes, big dog. Big dog is a good dog."

As if sensing it was being talked about, the white wolf got on its feet and circled its master's legs. It placed its snout in Mikoto's outstretched hand, a look of trust in its eyes.

"Try pranking him again when he's a little older," you said with a small laugh. A smile lit the boy's face again as Megumi placed him down on the floor so he could pet the harmless shikigami.

And if he inherits his technique... No. Megumi didn't want to think about that now. He was a father now and he wanted to get this thing right. He didn't want to miss a single thing in Mikoto's life. He wanted to be there right now.

"I don't want him to grow up so fast, though..."

"He won't," you chuckled in response, only for Megumi to take your hand in his. He threaded his fingers into your own, once again calmed by the sight of your three shadows coming together as one.

Author's notes: Happy birthday, Megumi! 🎂 Never imagined you as a papa before, but here's a little glimpse for us yearners hehe. 🥺💙

#songsofadelaidewrites💛#love notes to mari 💌#jujutsu kaisen #jjk megumi #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x y/n #megumi x reader

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kingofbodyrolls · 3 months

Text

Hoseok fic recs 2024 🥳

In honor of Hoseok’s birthday, I want to share my ultimate favorite Hobi stories, that I’ve read this past year (2023-2024) 💜 I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the fic, it might seem like a tiny gesture, but it really means a lot for writers and I can guarantee it will put a smile on their faces💜 Let’s share and give lots of love! Looking for more to read? Check ‘The Library’ or last years recs 🙂

[index] → jan | feb (💜) | mar (myg) | apr | may | jun | jul | aug | sep (jjk)(knj) | oct (pjm) | nov | dec (kth)(ksj) | Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, fantasy = 🪄.

⭐Helping Hands by @m-yg93 [6k] // jhs x f.reader // f2l // 🥵

📝 Between your boyfriend getting into bed with another girl and finals taking all your time a cold rift has emerged between the usually warm movie nights with your best friend. Thankfully exams are over and Hoseok is back on your couch where he belongs. When some shit talking gets a little too close to home and Hoseok finds out you’ve never even had an orgasm he decides to take things into his own hands, and yours.

🗨️ This was so hot, like what 😳🥵 also a bit funny, but mostly smutty 🤭

⭐Flight 18 by @noona-la-la-la [9.5K] // jhs x f. reader // flight!au, idol!au // 🥵😂

📝 Korean Air Flight 18 leaves daily from Los Angeles traveling to Seoul. You’ve taken this flight before, but this time you’ve got an irritating passenger in the neighboring seat. Little did you know that he would end up giving you the ride of your life.

🗨️ This was just really really amazing; utterly funny (like I was laughing at certain points), so much sexual tension that evolves into satisfying smut 😗

⭐Ho Ho Horrible @ugh-yoongi [5.6K] // jhs x f.reader // e2l, neighbor!au, holiday!au // 🥵🥰😂

📝 (or, the one where your neighbor is a relentless christmas caroler and refuses to take a hint, but at least he's really hot.)

🗨️ No– this was just so freaking cute! 😭 Like fluffy cute and also extremely funny, just what I love. I loved this so much 💜 OC’s friendship with Tae, their banter was 💯 and then with Hobi, just so so good! It was so cute and OC’s internal dialogue is just funny 😂A really cute holiday themed Hoseok fic that I can’t recommend enough!!!! Everything was just great. Had me smiling and giggling a few times – please go read it 🥹💜

⭐Started with a Sparkle, now we’re on Fire @the-boy-meets-evil [6.5K] // jhs x f.reader // f2l // 🥵

📝 You're feeling self conscious about your recent break-up and hoseok is more than happy to teach you a thing or two.

🗨️ Really really good! I really liked it 💜 I really loved how both sweet and demanding Hoseok was, guiding oc through everything.

⭐Watch Yourself by @boymeetsweevil [7.7k] // jhs x f.reader // non idol au, pwp // 🥵

📝 It starts with an invitation from your ex. It ends with Hoseok’s hands down your pants in said ex’s kitchen.

🗨️ Oh this was hot alright 🥵

⭐In the Car @floralseokjin [14.7K] // jhs x f.reader // mechanic!hoseok, street racer!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 all you had was a dead car battery, you weren’t looking for romance, regardless if the charming mechanic had other ideas. You’ve heard stories that could put you off… Can he change your misconceptions, or will they prove correct after all…?

🗨️ oh my- really really good 💖 something about mechanic AND street racer Hoseok has me question my sanity 🥵

⭐Two in one @here2bbtstrash [12K] // jhs x f.reader x pjm // best friends!au, threesome // 🥵🥵🥵

📝 you finally have a much-needed smoke session with your best friends, just like old times. you’re also pretty sure they’re gay… right?

🗨️ the chemistry between them, how they have been friends for so long, oc’s assumptions lol, and their humor too! Priceless 👏💖 Gosh! It was pure filth, in the best way possible, so sinful and dirty— and, and—, PLEASE GO READ IT IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY 😭💖

⭐Floored @lavienjin [5.2K] // jhs x f.reader x pjm x jjk // idol!au, established relationship with Hobi, foursome // 🥵🥵🥵

📝 in the midst of your reunion with your boyfriend after not seeing each other for some time, you’re interrupted by two sets of eyes. not wanting to waste the opportunity, hoseok proposes a foursome and hey, “the more, the merrier”, right?

🗨️ what did I even read? 🥵 (it was good!)

⭐Good Morning @ppersonna [2.1K] // jhs x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰

📝 hoseok’s methods of waking you up are … unconventional, but effective.

🗨️ omg I loved it 💖💯

⭐To the Beat of my Heart @jeonggukingdom [7.2K] // jhs x f.reader // dancer!au, sort of e2l // 🥵

📝 when you walk into the studio that Sunday afternoon, all you expect is a lonely and chill practice session but, a few hours later, your programs are shattered in thousand pieces by the unexpected presence of Jung Hoseok. And nothing could have prepared you for what he had in store for you.

🗨️ wow, this was incredibly good! Well written and it was just so freaking hot, I loved it! 💯✨

⭐Holiday Inn @bangtanintotheroom [36.6K] // jhs x f.reader // non-idol!au, rap group!au, s2e2l // 🥵😂

📝 if it’s not the loud music, it’s the constant rapping. If it’s not the constant rapping, it’s the hysterical laughter. And if it’s not the hysterical laughter, it’s the moaning and screaming women. How the hell hasn’t your neighbor been kicked out yet? Oh right; he’s a beloved rapper.

🗨️ I’m just— WOW 🤯💯 This must be one of the best Hoseok fics I’ve ever read. Damn it was fucking amazing 👏 I loved the assertiveness of reader, and how that tension just build so fucking perfectly! Everything was so freaking good. A masterpiece!! 💜✨

⭐Make Me @violetsiren90 [16k] // jhs x f.reader // idol!au, f2fwb, BDSM lifestyle // 🥵🥵🥵

📝 You’ve been friends with Hobi for years, and he’s your comfort zone - but when he gets wind of a dark secret you drunkenly let slip, things between you take a sudden extreme change.

🗨️ Oh. My.Goodness. My soul left my body multiple times when I read this!!! It is incredible!!! Really love this one, and if you like BDSM this is definitely for you, but even if you don’t (like me, this was out of my ‘comfort zone’) you will still enjoy it ✨👏💯

And as a something a little extra, here’s a few fics that I haven’t had the time to read yet, but damn I’m buzzing to get to read them:

Sonic Rain [25k] @jungblue

The Retreat [19.6k] @ugh-yoongi

Fake Love [16.2k] @aquaminwrites

The Night Shift [11k] @prolixitae

The Treasured Thief [16k] @justimajin

Happy birthday HOBI!!!! 🥳💜✨

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auspicioustidings · 8 months

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Intro

Hello from Scotland! You can call me Mhairi, she and they both work for me :)

This is a side blog for me to write nonsense, so if you see an ask or reply from ClumsyDragon, that is me! The content is going to be questionable, I trust that you can read tags and make sensible decisions about your own reading (note the MDNI, no under 18s please).

You can find me on Ao3 and ko-fi.

Asks/requests are open. I write CoD, but if you want to see another fandom just ask, I'll let you know if I can write for it. If I don't answer your ask, it's because I could not think of anything for it!

I tag any of my fics with mhairiwrites to make it easier to find. I tag little ideas and drabbles with mhairidrabbles. If I'm just talking about me or ever posting photos of myself it'll be tagged it'smhairi. If you want to ignore everything but proper fics, this blog only reblogs those and nothing else.

Happy reading! Some easy navigation below the cut.

Ae Fond Kiss - Fake Death Johnny - 1, 2, 3, 4

Blue Blood - Knight/Royalty AU - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Firewatch - Firefighter AU - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

Satin and Lace - Pirate AU - 1

Services/Goods of Equivalent Value - Teashop AU - 1, 2, drabbles labelled mhairidrabblesteashop

Various AUs - 1

Mandatory Dungeons and Dragons- D&D Game AU - 1

Make your own way home - Post MW3 AU (SPOILERS) - 1

Wine Talking - Ghoap Retirement AU - 1

Domming the shit out of Ghoap - 1

Slow Burn oc x tf141 - ao3

*Lost Boys AU - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

*Savage - Warrior Ghoap AU - 1, 2

Bannockburn - CnC with bf Soap - 1

*Catholic Horror nonsense - 1, 2

Genderplay with Soap - 1

The Revelation - Cult Leader!Reader x Ghoap - 1

*content in these ones is darker and leaning more into the characters being monstrous so keep that in mind when you decide what to read

CoD men who just kidnap wives - original & #mhairidrabblescodkidnappers

#mhairiwrites

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bradshawssugarbaby · 6 months

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Career Day Crush - Bob Floyd x Teacher!OC

A/N: I was inspired to write this while prepping pictures of pilots for my class at work today and now, here we are, taking on two multipart fics at once.

pairing: Bob Floyd x Teacher!OC (can easily swap her name for a y/n situation)

warnings/content: Bob being awkward and cute, Hangman's son being just like Hangman, Hangman as a dad, secondhand embarrassment.

word count: 1.8k

“Alright, class, can we all thank Sadie’s dad for coming in to talk to us about being a firefighter? What an interesting career choice we could make!�� You forced a smile as you politely clapped your hands for your guest speaker, the crowd of 7 year olds in front of you following suit, clapping and smiling as they chattered about how cool Sadie’s dad was for driving a fire truck.

You looked down at your agenda for the day and read the hastily handwritten list you’d prepared for yourself earlier that morning to see who, if anyone, would be joining your class next. You nodded your head as you read the name and smiled sweetly at little Boone in the front row of the room, laughing softly.

“Next, we’re going to hear from Boone’s dad, Lieutenant Seresin about what it takes to be a fighter pilot for the US Navy!” You said with a somewhat forced enthusiasm to your voice, tired of trying to be the hype man for each parent as they came in to share what they did for a living to their child’s friends and classmates. You smiled warmly as Boone’s father, Jake walked in, dressed fully in his flight suit, his helmet tucked under his arm for emphasis. You noticed a second man, similar in height to Jake, follow in behind him. This man had lighter hair, worn longer than Jake’s and combed back into a military approved style, wire-framed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and a soft, shy smile as he waved to your class. His cobalt blue eyes were almost breathtaking as they wandered in your direction. As he met your gaze, he gave you a soft smile before folding his hands in front of him as he stood beside Jake.

“Hi guys!” Jake said with a friendly smile, waving to the group of eager faces watching him, “I’m Lieutenant Jake Seresin, and this, is Lieutenant Robert Floyd. We both fly in the US Navy, but we have two different jobs. I’m the pilot, so I actually fly the plane itself, but, my friend Lieutenant Floyd is what we call a Weapons Systems Officer, or WSO for short. He sits in the backseat of a two-seater plane and makes sure the lasers and missiles and all that fun stuff back there is working properly when we need it to.”

Lieutenant Floyd nodded his head in agreement as Jake spoke, before smiling at the children himself and beginning to talk.

“You might be wondering why we have names written on our helmets, these are called our callsigns, callsigns are how we talk to one another in the air when we need to. My callsign is Bob,” Lieutenant Floyd gestured to his helmet as he showed it to the glass, smiling proudly as the children ooh’ed and ahh’ed over it. Jake held up his own helmet as well, gesturing to the font splayed across the top.

“My callsign is Hangman, like the spelling game you guys might play in class sometimes!”, He explained enthusiastically.

You had to hand it to Jake, he had certainly captivated your students better than any other speaker of the day had. Maybe it was his charm and charisma, or the fact that his job was a little more unique than being a firefighter, or a teacher or a truck driver. You couldn’t figure out what it was, but something about him and his friend had completely gained control of your normally somewhat unruly group of children, certainly better than you could have done at this point in a Friday afternoon.

As the two men wrapped up their career day presentation for your class, fielding any and all questions your curious students had for them for the last thirty minutes, you couldn’t help but notice Lieutenant Floyd catching your eye, as if he was stealing shy glances over at you as he and Jake stood at the front of the room. When the bell rang to dismiss the children, Boone raced up to his dad and Lieutenant Floyd, giving them each a big hug.

“Dad, Uncle Bobby, that was great!” The little boy, a carbon copy of his father in terms of looks and determined, fiery attitude, said with a grin that nearly made his whole face vanish.

“Awesome, buddy, I’m glad we could come talk to you and your friends!” Jake smiled as he put his arms around the boy, ruffling his hair. Lieutenant Floyd knelt down to him and smiled giving him a hug as well.

“Any time, little guy!” he said with a smile.

You approached the two men and smiled, offering your hand out for them to shake, your way of showing thanks to them for taking time out of their Friday to come talk to your class. You smiled as Jake stood up to his feet, shaking your hand firmly as he returned the smile.

“Thank you so much for coming out today, both of you. It really means a lot to the kids. They really enjoyed it! The helmets were a good addition, they’ll be talking about those forever,” A laugh escaped your lips as you shook your head slightly, thinking about how many times you’ll hear about the fighter pilots and their helmets over the course of the next week or so.

“Anytime, Bob and I didn’t have anything going on today for training, so we were able to make the time to come visit! Plus that, I can’t miss an opportunity to be “Boone’s super cool dad” to a bunch of 7 year olds, right pal?” He let out a hearty chuckle as he ruffled Boone’s hair again.

Jake looked to Bob, who was now quietly standing behind Jake, a soft smile on his features as he waitied politely for the two of you to finish your conversation. Jake shook his head and laughed again, gesturing between you and Bob with a nod.

“Sorry, Bob, this is Boone’s teacher, he absolutely loves her to pieces, don’t ya, big guy?” Boone nodded his head, a big grin on his face as he looked between you and Bob, his tiny face seeming to take note of the way Bob was now looking at you.

“Uncle Bobby must like you too, Miss T, his cheeks got all red just now! Dad says that happens sometimes when you think a girl is pretty. D’ya think Miss T is pretty, Uncle Bobby?”

You and Bob exchanged uncomfortable laughs and awkward glances at one another before looking away. You knew Boone was just innocently speaking what he thought was true, but at that moment, you sort of wished the floorboards of the school would open up beneath your feet, the ground swallowing you whole so you could hide and shield your embarrassment. Jake looked down at his son and chuckled, breaking the awkwardly silent tension as Bob stole a glance towards the exit, looking as if he was contemplating whether or not he could just make a run for it and meet up with Jake and Boone later on.

“Bud, we can’t just say stuff like that, sometimes people don’t want other people to know if they find them pretty. Sometimes you gotta keep it a secret so they can tell that person themself, you know?”

“Oh, right, sorry Uncle Bobby, sorry Miss T,” Boone shrugged his shoulders, still not quite understanding why it had to be a secret if his uncle thought his teacher looked nice that day, but in the mind of a child, you supposed nothing about adult dating rituals made a whole ton of sense.

“C’mon bud, let’s get going, ok?” Jake put a hand on his son’s shoulder before giving you a friendly glance and departing the room, leaving Bob to his own devices. You could have sworn as you saw Jake leaving that he gave his friend a wink and a thumbs up, and if you hadn’t caught the mischievous grin on Boone’s face as father and son left together, you would have sworn that this wasn’t intentional.

A look of panic flashed across Bob’s features, shaking his head as he let out an awkward laugh, his hand resting on the back of his neck, scratching at his hairline as he shook his head, looking between the door and you.

“Sorry ‘bout Boone, he’s just like his dad, got a big mouth on that little guy, he’s lucky he’s cuter than Jake is, he can get away with it.”

“It’s ok, I’ve been told more awkward things by small children than hearing that their uncle might think I’m pretty,” You helped, trying to take away some of the tension between the two of you, “Jake didn’t properly introduce me either. My name’s Grace. Grace Taylor. Most people call me Gracie though.”

“Well, he did introduce me, but please, just call me Bob. I don’t even go by Lieutenant Floyd unless it’s a military event or something. Bob is just…more me. Nice to meet you, Gracie.”

He offered you his hand, shaking yours as they met in a handshake that was much more gentle and soft than the one exchanged between you and Jake moments earlier. Bob’s hand practically swallowed yours whole as he shook it, and you couldn’t help but wonder if part of the reason he was so gentle was that he feared he might hurt you if he shook too abruptly, like he simply wasn’t in tune with his own strength yet.

“I should probably get going, Jake’s my ride back to base, it’s a long walk if he leaves without me,” He chuckled before looking towards the door. His eyes landed back on you for a moment, and you couldn’t help but notice how deep a shade of blue they were. They were…indescribably blue. The olive green hue of his flight suit pulled out every hint of tan in his skin, making him appear even more sun-kissed than you imagined he’d look had he worn something else.

“Yeah, you probably don’t want to be left in a school on a Friday night, do you?” You smirked at him playfully as you leaned your behind against your desk as you faced him with your arms folded across your chest.

“It’s not ideal, especially with an 8am training tomorrow.”

Bob politely excused himself again and headed for the door before turning on the heel of his perfectly polished uniform shoe, a wide grin on his features as he pointed his finger in your direction.

“By the way, Boone was right. I do think you’re pretty, Gracie. I may have to come by to pick my honorary nephew up from school more often now.”

And with that, Bob was out the door, leaving you blushing like a schoolgirl with a little crush as you began cleaning up your classroom.

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alwaysonf1 · 6 months

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lewis is doing what?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 3k

Warning: Changes in the timeline for the sake of the story.

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: This is my first F1 fic, which makes me nervous so why not start with a series.

Many Drive to Survive haters like to pretend everything that comes from the show and what it’s about are beneath them. That they couldn’t possibly care, and that the only important thing is the race on Sunday. And yet the day after the latest season drops you can find them amongst the chaos trying to figure out what the hell were all those hints about a new form of content that F1 plans to release.

Interwoven with the usual storylines and mild dramatics there was a lot of talk about how drivers show their families the support they’re given. How they show up for them in their careers and bits of their lives. It was weird at first, but then it sent off alarm bells when an almost fourth wall breaking moment happened where the Netflix team was blatantly dismissed.

“I think we have this one Netflix, but thanks for the help.” Those were the exact words spoken by the head of marketing as she closed the door to a room where you get a glimpse of team paraphernalia but see no faces.

Every social platform that you can find an F1 fan on has it trending and the conversations (and screams into the void) are fast paced. But Twitter is where the real unhinged and brain cell losing behavior is happening.

And the most accurate guessing.

Almost everyone within the community is discussing what that snippet could mean. Is it the end of DTS as they know it? The end of it completely? Are F1 and Netflix severing ties? Will F1 be taking over? Is this some little game they're playing with their viewers to keep them tuned in? Is it something completely different? What the actual fuck is going on?

In the middle of those questions are those who think themselves a genius or are delusional enough that they can’t help but form some wild ideas of what’s to come.

Someone must be retiring. Multiple people are retiring. There’s going to be a reality show ala Keeping Up with the Verstappens, where everyone learns that Max’s little trauma dumpy memories with Jos are just the surface level of how insane that man is. Someone is getting married. Someone is getting married to another driver. A nepo baby is going to become the “voice of the fandom” and host a show about the drivers during race weekends and it’s going to be all the wrong things. A dating show for all the singles. A behind the scenes at the lives of drivers and their families, but like Family Feud. And the penultimate dude bro dream of them getting to spend the season hanging out with drivers and get confirmation that their toxic thoughts that alienate most of the fan base is true.

After about twenty-four hours it all dies down. Everyone is still wondering, but they don’t feel like they’re losing their minds while they try to be the one who can say they were right when they news drops.

As if timed, the second that F1 drops in trends the F1 admin drops a graphic with the faces of six people who are clearly positioned like the thinking face emoji on every platform that they use. In the captions it says: Week in the Life - Sibling Edition.

If Twitter was home to the first wave of screaming, it belongs to Tumblr the second go round. Everyone is so excited for the content that someone must have thrown up from how aggressively happy they feel. Everyone is talking about who they want it to be and what content they’d love to see from which sibling. Those who make gifs are especially excited to get everything they can, though they won’t be outdone by those whose brains and fingers will be entities on their own once they get hold of a singular moment that will inspire the fic of everyone’s dreams.

Those who always have something negative to say are there as usual, but they aren’t as loud or upset as they often are. Being nosy doesn’t stop just because you want to pretend that you only care about the race, as if someone doesn’t have a file of screenshots from all the times, they’ve attacked the character of a driver for something not race related at all.

The reaction to this is the kind that instills faith in what is being done. The kind of thing that tells all the upper management who didn’t like it that it was a good idea, but also puts a certain bit of weight on the content team. They need this to deliver. Need to keep the hype, especially since the first episode doesn’t drop until the start of December and they’ve already recorded half the series so a failure could stop the rest.

So once the Singapore GP ends, Daniel Ricciardo’s face is no longer gray. You get to see that goofy smile and wink. You’d think they told everyone he was getting a permanent seat with a three year contract with the reception to it.

It’s Charles Leclerc for Japan.

Lance Stroll for Qatar.

Carlos Sainz for COTA.

Alex Albon for Mexico.

And coming off his first P1 of the season, Lewis Hamilton for Brazil.

For the next week or so if a tweet isn’t about excitement, disdain, or shock in regard to this new F1 exclusive content, it has a certain main character at its center.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x black!reader #f1 x reader #f1 x black!reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x black!reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fan fiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fan fiction #f1 imagine

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cuckoo-on-a-string · 6 months

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Hello, Mr. Monster (Seven. Sacred)

Summary: Eros and Psyche inspired Soulmate!AU, Morpheus x female OC/reader

Master list

Chapter warnings: emotional distress, anxiety, recall of threat of assault/brainwashing, explicit smut A/N: My treat! Happy Halloween! Only about half this beast is edited, but I gave myself permission to break the no-fic-til-first-draft-is-finished rule if I could complete it by Halloween, soooo... ENJOY! Happy to talk inspo music/plot/scream in harmony in comments and asks.

Chapter 6: Sacred

She wasn’t wearing shoes.

She didn’t entirely realize until she left the palace. The grand castle released her easily, giving her a side door to slip through as she tried escaping herself, and she hesitated when soft dirt replaced smooth stone. The fae’s work stripped a lifetime of callouses. A week ago, she could walk across gravel barefoot. Now… She could go back, admit defeat and finish dressing properly. But she couldn’t deal with any more of Gwen’s concern, and the urge to run boiled from her stomach up the back of her throat. Maybe it would burst out as a scream. Maybe she’d just vomit on her own toes.

No going back.

Something would catch her if she turned around, and she wouldn’t stop until the sensation drained away in sweat, blood, and tears.

Maybe she’d trip and earn herself some new scars.

She didn’t actually run, but she walked quickly, like she had any idea where she was going and had a schedule to keep.

The sunshine welcomed her, wrapping warm as her shawl around her shoulders, but she kept her eyes on the path, looking for loose stones to dodge or signs of other travelers. But she found no footprints. Heard no breaking twigs ahead or behind. No voices carried on the faint breeze. The world felt a little too perfect, as if it froze when she left her room, holding its breath as it waited for her to pass by. Too still. Like it might startle her if the clouds skidded along like normal clouds usually did. The blue overhead felt careful. Intentional.

The path led her to the edge of a river – or a lake – maybe a vast moat around the palace. She couldn’t see a way across, and she hesitated on the bank, toes curling into the grass as fingernails folded into palms. She wasn’t ready to stop. She needed to keep going. This wasn’t where she sat and cried. She had to burn out the panic, and she desperately needed a way across the water so she could escape into the green hills beyond.

Chewing on her lip, tasting blood, she squinted at the flecks of sunlight glinting on the water’s surface and tried to guess how deep it was. Impossible to guess. But it looked placid enough. Her was still wet, after all. A little more water wouldn’t hurt her.

She stepped from the bank, expecting a cold plunge, but she found sand barely an inch below the surface. Looking again, she could just make out a submerged path ready to help her ford the river, and she tried very hard not to question if it was there before she stepped on it. More than a little afraid it would disappear halfway through, she sprinted across the open water, splashing her clean clothes and making a terrible racket in the pristine stillness. Although the water wasn’t perfectly still, her steps left great ripples that carried the secret of her flight to both shores and beyond. Round whispers revealing her route, rolling off like a bell’s peel to tell the invisible something where she’d fled.

Her beautiful skin crawled, and she didn’t stop until she’d hidden herself in the green shadows beyond the far bank. Pine needles cushioned her steps, and she slowed to catch her breath, still moving forward, but only barely as the wood’s sap and moss filled her senses.

Her heart beat so fast it hummed, and the old ache stirred sharp and deep behind her ribs.

She was missing something. She needed something. She’d been hurt in ways her simple human magic couldn’t mend, but if she pulled the shawl even tighter, everything would be fine. The soft knit would hold her together like a bandage. Or a net. That shouldn’t comfort her, but it did, and she had too many battles to choose this one.

Being caught was alright so long as she was the one to trap herself.

She kept going, and her heart stewed in memories she’d hoped to leave on the floor of the bath. Things grew out of her helpless fears. Weedy jolts of terror that came back no matter how much she reasoned them away. Doubt spread like mold over every good thing. Confusion soared tall as a tree, and even the Dreaming’s determined sunlight couldn’t pierce its canopy.

She didn’t understand why Morpheus lied. And because she didn’t know that, the question her safety and future hinged on, she couldn’t banish every creeping dread that fed on its shadow. Everything she thought she knew felt fragile, and she wasn’t willing to test her assumptions’ strength. She’d thought he respected her. She’d thought her dreams could be a haven with him. She’d thought her life had changed for the better. For once.

But the fae took her for him.

Whatever she thought she knew, they clearly knew something else.

She walked on. Searching her thoughts. Wandering a strange land. Not at all ready to ask for answers.

The woods thinned into scrubby trees and thickets, fading from emerald to a yellowed olive green. Low stone walls rose and fell along the sides of the path she chose at random, bordering little fields full of pumpkins and graveyards bristling with angled headstones. Signs of structure beyond wilderness, a long-inhabited corner of a rural land, far removed from the gleaming palace with its lavender bath and magical bed.

But it was still so quiet.

Where were all the people? Dreams, nightmares, stories. The Dreaming may be vast, but it had nearly countless residents. Fin and Gwen spoke of whole villages, towns, homes full of strange, beautiful, and awful creatures crafted or invited into the Dreaming by its king. The silence rang false, and her heart snagged on a terrible idea.

The air in her lungs hardened.

She’d never left the unseelies’ court. She only walked through a vision boiled from poppy juice and desperate hopes. Maybe she still wore her wedding dress. Or maybe this was the truth of Love in Idleness. She could love her monster because she imagined he was better than he was. Her mind had broken and she found herself roving freely, left to convalesce on her own terms while in reality…

She’d come to a stone bridge fording a creek, and she practically fell back against the wall, sliding down, dropping her head to her knees.

Fucking fuck.

She’d walked so far, but the fear still had a literal chokehold.

Breathing. That mattered most. Whatever else was wrong couldn’t be fixed until she could breathe. She couldn’t even keep walking without air. Old lessons battled with her diaphragm as she tried to scold herself calm. Her old breathing exercises helped take the edge off the crushing sense of suffocation, but her nervous system hummed with tension, and she sat locked in place.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the dress, feeling phantom spider silk clinging to her skin, watching the threads stretch and tear with so little effort. Of all the things to focus on, maybe it was easiest. The only change she could easily escape. But also a reminder of the monster the fae believed her soulmate to be. Someone who would callously, willingly…

Her stomach rolled, and she lurched onto her knees. A little stomach bile came on the second, wrenching heave, but nothing followed. Not even water.

Fuck.

How long had it been since she ate? Time was so slippery in the fae realms, and gods knew how long she slept in the Dreaming. Her head pulsed as her stomach finally agreed it was overreacting, and she fell back to sit against the wall of the bridge, panting with her eyes closed against every little pain and discomfort knocking on her thoughts. They each wanted to let her know her body had been abused, and all their good intentions just made the message play on repeat, forcing her to not only face but feel everything that happened.

Sorely used.

An archaic turn of phrase, for sure, but fuck if it didn’t fit.

Her ears rang. A sure sign there was just too much happening inside. Even if she didn’t die at the hands of the fae, a rogue nightmare, or some demon Constantine hooked her into finding, her blood pressure would send her to an early grave. For sure.

Her head hurt. Her belly hurt. Her heart hurt. Now that she wasn’t walking, her feet ached, too.

It seemed like a good time to cry, but she hurt too much to do that, either.

So she sat with the pain instead.

Crossing her arms over her knees, she buried her face and tried to block out this world, her monster’s world, and create her own. Simple and dark and safe. The borders only extended to her fingers and toes. It ended where the air touched her skin. Her goal was to drown out the ringing in her ears with the cycle of her breath, and if she forgot anything else existed, maybe that would be possible.

She buried herself so well in her arms and the chorus of her panic that she didn’t notice the little creature approach until it touched her. Tiny claws pricked her ankle. It felt like a cat, a determined kitten scaling her leg to perch on her knee, and she opened her eyes sluggishly, pulling out of the sticky morass of her own head to find a ruby-eyed gargoyle peering into her face. It chirred, potato-shaped head tilting in wordless question.

Golden with little wings that looked entirely insufficient to keep its pudgy baby body airborne, it lurked happily in the grey area where things so ugly they could only be cute flourished.

“I should probably warn you,” she murmured, “that I’m really shit company right now.”

The little creature warbled, like it understood and disagreed. Its claws pinched the fabric over her knee as its wings pumped, lifting him an inch into the air.

Well.

That would show her for making snap judgements.

The little darling really could fly.

It tugged, trilling louder, and she got the idea it wanted her to come along.

“I don’t have wings.” She felt like she ought to apologize, explain her shortcomings the way she’d reason with a small child. “And I don’t feel so good right now. I’ll stay here. You don’t have to.”

Dissatisfied with her decision, her little companion dropped back to her knee, croaking a long, demanding wail.

“Goldie!”

The voice carried through the fog, rattling over the stones, and her little friend perked and turned to call back. Following the direction of his attention, she realized two whole Tudor mansions stood on the opposite side of the bridge. If she’d stumbled any further, she would’ve run into someone’s front door.

She desperately needed to get out of her own head before she walked face-first into an immoveable object and broke her nose.

“Goldie?”

The creature flexed its claws, essentially making biscuits on her knee.

“I think someone’s calling you,” she suggested. The name and color couldn’t be a coincidence. Not in the Dreaming. Everything made a slanted kind of sense here, if it made any sense at all.

The tiny monster, Goldie apparently, settled belly-down, folding its wings and all in a show of blatant refusal. It wouldn’t give up the new friend. Toy. Guest. Whatever the hell she was to it.

“Goldie.” The voice was nearer. Footsteps crunched on loose stones, and a pleasantly round man, with a pleasantly full beard and a pleasantly wide-eyed face, came along from the direction of the two houses, looking the wrong way. “You’re still awfully small to be wandering off, even if you can fly so well. Now, where did you – ” He turned, saw Goldie sitting on Aisling’s knee, and blinked his wide eyes even wider. She stared back.

He remembered his manners first, rushing to welcome her. “Oh! Hello. I didn’t know we had company.”

He approached with a smile, but he hesitated when he realized her position. She must look at least half as horrible as she felt, after all, and she hadn’t moved from her folded spot against the wall.

“Are you alright?” He grasped for solutions, for answers. “Did Goldie scare you?”

Exhausted as she was by her own terrors, she couldn’t help snorting.

“No.” Hell. Her voice practically creaked. She swallowed, trying to get her dry, aching throat in working order, but she only made the ache worse. Coughing, she spluttered, “He didn’t scare me.”

“But you’re not alright.” Those big eyes flooded with growing concern, and she wondered if it was because he genuinely gave a damn or because of some nebulous rule about guests and hospitality and all that shit.

“I’m not,” she confessed. “But I will be. Eventually. I always am.”

“Well, how about some tea while you wait?” He extended a hand, and Goldie fluttered up to his shoulder, clearing the way for her to rise. Now that the cretin had backup, it seemed confident she’d follow.

And since she had no other plan, she did.

“I’m Abel.” His warm, worker’s callouses rasped along her palm and around her fingers as he helped her to her feet. “It’s been a while since we had a proper dreamer here, I’m afraid. Are you lost?”

Very.

“I don’t know. And I’m a dreamer, but I’m not dreaming.”

He didn’t keep hold of her hand as he led her towards one of the two houses – presumably his – but he hovered. He had a good face for that, and he kept near, like he thought she might fall, which was fair considering how he found her.

“Then how are you here?”

A mirror. Knives, and spiders, and that damned dress.

“It’s a long story.”

“Maybe over tea, then.”

“Maybe.” Probably not, though. She couldn’t stomach that tale in her head yet. She couldn’t hold it in her mouth long enough to taste.

The courtyard between the two houses boasted a half-forgotten kind of charm. It grew in moss over crumbling busts and fogged over the windows with just a little too much dust. Cozy neglect. Cottagecore with fewer fairylights and more fog.

Abel held the door for her, and she found a sitting room as wonderfully cluttered as the landscape outside. Books stacked in towers supported forgotten cups, and old table cloths, rugs, and scarves littered every surface. She sat at the little table where her host gestured and admired the collection of his personal history as he busied himself with the stove.

“I should really tell my brother we have a guest,” he fussed. “He’ll be terribly angry if doesn’t have a chance to meet you, I’m sure, Miss…” His hand flew to his mouth, and he murmured his apology through the gaps between his fingers. “’M so sorry. I never asked your name.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind. I’m – ”

“Let me get Cain. One introduction! Much easier. I’ll be right back.” He rushed out again, and Goldie fluttered to sit on the table, resting between her limp hands and blinking up like he wasn’t responsible for anything ever, at all, in the very least.

She ran a finger over his bumpy little head and sighed. “Aren’t you just proud of yourself?”

Goldie crooned confirmation, and she rubbed her nail along the loose threads in the tablecloth. A hundred tea stains bloomed over and across each other, but she didn’t see any crumbs from dinners past. The candle in the brass stick at the center of the table had dripped down to anchor the whole contraption in place, and she could only just see a faded red paisley pattern beneath it all.

If she were to read Abel’s cards, this would be the place. It had his rhythm: habit and footsteps and care. A place to plan the morning and end an evening.

The door’s ominously friendly groan announced the brothers’ return, and she looked over her shoulder to meet much less open eyes in a much less open face, shielded by spectacles and a mouth prepared to sneer.

But he blinked like his brother as Abel rushed to attend the kettle again, and he marched in with open curiosity.

“Well, you are a puzzle.” He made a little bow. “I’m Cain. You’ve met the dunderhead and Goldie.”

Abel set a steaming pot and three cups around the table, practically shaking with excitement. They really must not get company often. “And now she’s going to introduce herself, and we’ll all have tea while she waits to feel alright.”

Cain’s eye’s narrowed, and Aisling jolted to defuse the poisonous tension.

“I’m Aisling Hunt.”

Abel clapped, and the tension fizzled away as she tried to catch up with whatever connection he’d made. “Fine Gent’s Aisling? The witch from the Waking?”

“You know Fin?” She accepted her cup of tea, hoping for more about her friend. How did they know each other? Did they know where her friend was lurking? Were they at all like him?

Cain nodded, ignoring the cup and saucer his brother set at his elbow. “Better sort of nightmare. Reliable. Sharp. And if you’re really that Aisling, then I suppose we know why you’re in the Dreaming.”

She shuddered, an involuntary reaction she only just saved her tea from disaster by plonking it back on the table. Gossip traveled quickly in all realms, apparently, and while Fin was a considerate asshole most days, the fae hadn’t been subtle in their… gifting. She could ask how much her hosts knew, but then she’d have to listen to it. And she didn’t want to. Cain’s eye pierced her with a knowing glance, but Abel stood there in wide-eyed befuddlement, so she left them to their own assumptions and tried again with her drink.

Under any other situation, the tea would be very nice. Well-steeped, but not bitter, with a nutty note that made her think of toasted barely milk tea. In the moment, it was better than anything she’d ever tasted. Her senses sprang back from the fog of despair and remembered how nice it was to quench her thirst, how the steam opened up her sinuses, and she could smell the dried rosemary over Abel’s kitchen window. One sip was not enough. Tipping her head back, she drained it in one go and immediately decided manners were for losers, desperately holding out her cup for a refill.

Holy hell was she thirsty.

Abel quickly poured more, and Cain’s side-eye grew razor sharp.

Aisling drank another cup. And then a third. But when she lifted a fourth to her lips, a familiar hand settled on her wrist.

“That’s a great way to make yourself sick again.”

Fin.

He hovered at her shoulder, calm and constant as anything, charming as ever. Just looking up at his smirk – always welcoming her into a joke whether she understood it or not – felt like setting foot on solid land after a long boat ride. It surprised her by how steady it was, and she remembered what confidence had always felt like when they went on their adventures, dragged along by his leads and her intuition.

She hadn’t even heard him come in.

Under his guidance, she settled the cup in its saucer, and she winced an apologetic smile for her hosts.

“Sorry.”

Cain scoffed. “For what? Drinking tea? Pah.” He eyed Fin with a considerably less charitable look, hoisting the teapot in a clear invitation for yet another refill when required. “You’re a guest, and a thirsty one.”

“I’m not surprised.” Fin pulled out a chair for himself, settling a wicker hamper on the table. “You sprinted from the castle like a bat out of hell, and you slept for ages before that.”

Abel gawked like her wandering was some great accomplishment. “You’ve wandered a long way from the Heart of the Dreaming. This is the border of Nightmare.”

Although she determinedly didn’t sip the tea, she kept her heads around the cup, letting the fading heat sink into her palms and remind her she was alive. And awake.

Nightmare. That made sense. She’d never entirely trusted dreams. They felt so sweet in her sleep, but they always stung when she woke up. She found nightmares more reliable. But distance was nothing in the Dreaming. Even she knew that. If the realm’s lord and master hadn’t chosen to let her have her head and run, she wouldn’t have reached the river.

Busying himself with the basket, Fin muttered, “This one never did like to keep to one place. Here.”

He pulled out a lump of cheese and a crusty roll, setting them on a plate he magically fished from the delicate chaos of Abel’s living space.

She looked at the food distrustfully, not sure if her belly rumbled in welcome or rebellion yet. But Fin was on a mission, and he fished out a dish of strawberries next, bright as gems and so ripe she could smell them. Plucking one from the top of the pile, he sliced it into three neat pieces, offering her one on the flat of his blade with an expectant expression. He’d done the work. She shouldn’t waste it.

“The tea will settle better with a bit of food,” he advised.

Cain and Abel kept their own counsel, either riddling out what they were seeing or collecting fresh fuel for the gossip engine, she couldn’t say.

She accepted the strawberry.

It tasted like summer. Ice cream in the shade, and the riot of growing things in their prime. Sunshine and sticky hands with her bare feet in a creek.

Food really wasn’t supposed to taste like that. It took her breath away, and she hesitated, balanced on the edge of Fin’s knife between enjoying the little gift and careening back into her overwhelmed panic. Everything was a step further than she expected, or a little too perfect, or grand in ways that made her feel so, so small…

Goldie, sitting by her elbow, trilled. She looked into his ruddy eyes and held out her hand in a silent demand for another bit of strawberry, even though she hadn’t finished chewing.

Fin tipped the next slice into her waiting palm, and she offered it to the baby… whatever. Goldie seized it with a delighted gurgle and crammed it in its mouth. The sliver of berry filled much more of his mouth than Aisling’s, and his cheeks ballooned with the treat.

“What do you say, Goldie?” Abel asked.

His – pet? Child? – offered a gulp, a belch, and a croak, which was enough to satisfy Abel.

Fin shoved the third slice of berry directly in her face.

And she nearly choked. Nearly laughed. It startled her, but she put her hand to her mouth and kept everything in – chewing and swallowing emotion and food. They saying went that laughter was the best medicine, and while she was a firm proponent of the wonders of antibiotics, her inner sky cleared just the tiniest bit. The cracks were still there. Her world was still more than a little broken. But the fog of war began to lift, and she could see some of what was left. What was alright. What might be alright with a little more time.

Moss would grow on the ruins, and rain would fill the holes into ponds for frogs and water lilies.

What couldn’t be repaired could be made new.

And if she ever cleared all the clouds from that inner sky, maybe she’d find another watercolor sunset waiting for her.

Fin, watching her very carefully, cut another strawberry, and she ate it all with more confidence than the first two mouthfuls. He sliced open a roll and spread soft cheese on the two halves, giving them to her one at a time. When she reached for her tea to wash the bread down, he didn’t protest.

His posture softened until he slouched in his seat, shoulders back against the wood and one ankle propped across his knee. The little wrinkles that forecast a frown smoothed back to the edge of a smirk. All his anxiety appeared in the hollow shapes left behind as it melted.

She was sorry to have worried him, but watching him relaxed helped her more than all the tea and food in the Dreaming could. He’d decided she was safe, and in this wonky wonderland, she trusted his judgement. Fin may not betray his maker for her, but he would never be ease if he wasn’t sure all was – or would be – well.

Rapid tapping interrupted the scene a few minutes after she refused more food from Fin. Sated, pleasantly full, and breathing easily, she didn’t jump at the sound, but her heart jumped when she saw the raven on the other side of Abel’s window. She’d bet anything it was…

“Matthew.” Fin nodded to the bird but didn’t move to let him in. Instead, he turned to Aisling and asked, “Feel up for a walk?”

“Back? That’s…” The best idea. The worst idea. She thought of the castle and the entity who ruled it. He needed to be stitched back into her story. She had too many frayed ends left in the wake of the latest tear, and she couldn’t begin any real work until she saw the pattern. All her questions and accusations coiled into a lump in her throat. “A long way.”

“Oh, I doubt it.” Since his question hadn’t really been one at all, he stood up, put the basket on his arm, and pulled out her chair.

It was time to go.

Cain and Abel stood, too, and Goldie bobbed up to Abel’s shoulder, sighing like a tired toddler.

“Thank you.” She hesitated in the doorway and wondered what the rules were in the Dreaming. Did she owe them something? Did they expect a token, or a boon, or some specific words? Should she start planning a thank you card? Was there a ritual, or – no. She was overthinking it. “It was… You helped. A lot. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” Abel beamed. Goldie warbled in agreement.

“Of course, she’s welcome,” Cain snapped, finding some unknowable annoyance in his brother’s manners. He looked back to his departing guests and nodded, slowly, almost like he was bowing. “Fine Gent. Lady.”

“Oh, I’m not-”

Fin looped his free arm through hers and tugged her off balance, moving through the door. Her confusion of thought was lost in the chaos of stumbling sideways to keep up.

“Thank you, Cain,” Fin said.

The door closed. The sounds, smells, and sensations of the outdoors crashed over her fragile senses like a wave, and she was very glad for Fin’s arm. She was… better. But still not well. The ground stayed firm under her feet, but the back of her mind whispered it would melt into quicksand at any second.

Fluttering wings and a familiar croak warned her just before Matthew came flapping in her face. “You’re awake! You’re alive! Thought you were gone forever when you didn’t come back to your van, and the boss-”

“Will explain his thoughts himself,” Fin interjected. He gave the bird a look, a suggestion or a reminder. Once upon a time he threw those her way in the Waking. When she was young and overeager to test her limits. When she ought to know better.

Matthew landed in a chaos of black feathers and clattering talons, hopping alongside as Fin led the way across the bridge. Back to forests, fields, and strange moats. Back to the Heart of the Dreaming. Whatever that meant for her. There was no rush, but Fin clearly had a direction in mind, and while he was willing to go slow, ambling rather than marching, he was on a mission.

She didn’t like the heavy feeling that realization left in her gut, full of the food he’d so carefully and considerately brought. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, but there was a new authority overshadowing their old dynamic, and she just didn’t like it.

Chastised, Matthew actually held his tongue for a few minutes. But every few steps, she caught him peeping up with sharp swings of the beak to glance at her, like he was waiting for a signal to talk again. He looked so awkward, fumbling along at their pace. And earnest.

And none of this was his fault. It wasn’t Fin’s. It wasn’t the raven’s. It… probably wasn’t their master’s, either.

She offered a wan, tired kind of smile that she hoped would ease the tension. He snapped it up.

The raven cleared his throat. “You look nice?”

And she always would. No matter how sick, or exhausted, or miserable, or – The phantom tingle of the fae’s thick salve gleaming with unicorn horn rolled down her arms, and she shuddered.

“Don’t.”

Matthew immediately dropped his head. “Sorry.”

Well shit.

“It’s fine. Just – yeah.”

And with that eloquent excuse of a non-apology, the three fell into a deeper silence.

The trees swallowed the two houses and the bridge that led to them. The path unspooled ahead, under darker boughs, and after a corner or two, the edge of the forest thinned. Too quickly. A slowly as she’d run. Impossible and sensical, because what else could it have ever been.

As the castle came into view, she fought against the dream-fall sensation demanding she wake up. She knew she couldn’t, because she was already, but that didn’t stop of her mind from spinning with the alien logic of this world. She was still looking for an escape, even if she didn’t feel the need to run for one.

A bridge – which she knew for sure wasn’t there before – connected the edge of the forest to the castle’s island. A low, discreet construction entirely unlike the arching causeway she could spy towards the front gates. The Dreaming hadn’t made it a challenge to leave, but it made returning even easier.

It invited her to come home.

Fin huffed, and she caught a smirk twisting his lips before he schooled it into a more dignified expression.

“You’re expected, it seems.”

Her hand spasmed on his arm, and he patted it almost condescendingly.

“Of course,” she murmured, demanding her stomach settle and her feet move.

Fin stayed with her across the bridge, through the garden, to the door that let her out. She felt like a stray dog being returned by a neighbor after a jaunt around the neighborhood, and it took conscious effort not to let her hackles rise. Inside, the castle was as quiet as it had been before, and she wondered again if people were being kept away from her on purpose, and if so, for whose benefit.

They stopped in the first crossroads between hallways. “This is where we leave you.”

“What?” Panic fluttered like butterflies through her gut. Fin settled (most of) them with another one of his looks – teasing, mocking her just enough to assure her this wasn’t anything like she feared. It made her feel stupid. It gave her courage. “I mean – fine. Okay. Why?”

“Why do you think?” Fin pointed to the left. “If you head that way, you’ll find yourself back in the room you woke in. Gwen and Jeff will take care of you.” He pointed to the right. “If you go that way, you’ll find him. If you’re ready to talk.”

He delicately peeled her fingers off his arm, stepped back, and performed a tidy bow. Duty performed, he left her with a wink and walked back the way they’d come in, a way that now offered many more doors and turns than she remembered.

“Good seeing you, Aisling. I’ll see you around?” Matthew didn’t wait for an answer. He launched into the air and flapped after Fin. A last caw caught and echoed through the branching halls, fading until she stood alone with her decision.

The still air pulsed with her thoughts, and her bare soles stuck to the polished floor, rooting her in a whirlpool of feelings she couldn’t face long enough to name. A crossroads. Her crossroads. Another gift from the entity she’d always feared would take away her choice. Was it respect or apology?

He’d lied to her, and even if he wasn’t responsible for… everything else, how could she trust he’d finished with masks? Kindness made for a clever veil, and he’d already surprised her with the face behind one helm.

But he hadn’t destroyed her. Hadn’t let others strip her will when it could’ve suited his purposes.

Romances between gods and mortals rarely ended well, and he was beyond a god. How could she ever hope to understand that? There was no world in which she could be his equal, where he could stoop low enough to grasp her human fears. Holding hands across a chasm like that always ended in a fall. Hadn’t she been enough of a fool already?

She remembered her first dream with him. He was more honest with her then than he’d been since, and the first thing he wanted to show her was the place where he held her the way she’d always held him. For that night at least, everything made sense. Maybe not the pain, but the agonies she’d suffered almost seemed worth it.

She didn’t know what to think. If she never faced their tangled wyrd, the potential bond she’d tasted so briefly, she’d never know how to feel, either. Maybe all this would kill her, but she couldn’t live without knowing.

So, she turned right.

Maybe it was her imagination, but the coolly lit hall seemed a little brighter as she made her way from the crossroads, looking for Morpheus.

She didn’t have to go far. The hall stretched straight ahead. No side passages to distract her. No doors to tempt her curiosity. Dream of the Endless wasn’t hiding, and as he reached out to guide her steps, he shaped the world to his intent.

The hall ended, rounding a little bend and opening into a high-ceilinged room that couldn’t decide what it wanted to be. A gallery. A meeting place. Something old and new and hollow. One wall bristled with shapes emerging from grey-veined marble. Windows stretched from floor to roof, bathing the sculptures of vines, trees, rolling waves, and writhing figures with soft light at odds with the relief’s high drama. There was no furniture. Only space waiting to be filled. And a lone figure. Waiting for her.

No obstacles. No games or tests.

It could all be so, so simple.

Morpheus wore his regal grace with the same ease as his long black coat. But it failed to shroud his melancholy, and his longing wafted through the room in perfumed spirals of burning incense. She breathed it in; it stung her eyes and plucked on the frayed tatters in her chest. Sympathetic pain bloomed, and she rubbed along her sternum automatically, blinking back tears so she could trade them for words.

He broke the silence first. “I welcome you to the Dreaming, Aisling Hunt.”

Without his helm, his voice sounded so different. Incredibly. Even more beautiful, like looking up into a night sky with stars that looked back, but less like a force of the cosmos, more a man who traded in the dust that made worlds. He regarded her, and her intuition thrummed, trying to answer in ways her human body physically couldn’t.

He paused, lips parted on a thought, and the formal weight evaporated, replaced with aching strain that curled his shoulders towards her, even across the room, like a plant bending towards the sun. Strange. Unsettling. She didn’t feel like something bright in his world, but at least he wasn’t hiding behind his grotesque helm again.

“I am, despite everything, glad to have you here.”

Oh.

It shocked her back into her body. Into feet just a little cold and still bare on the floor. Into flesh she was afraid to look at in case she started crying again. The hope and horror bridged, and the most urgent question grew like a weed up her throat.

Well. If he was going to bring it up, then…

“I need to know something.” She rubbed her chest, hoping to pry loose a scrap of courage. None lingered in her heart, but a few tatters could’ve gotten caught in her ribs, and even a slip would do her. “Before this – I need to ask you something. I think I already know, but I need –” She knew how quickly words and oaths could twist under desire’s pressure, and even if she’d committed to playing the fool, even clowns had their limits, and she wouldn’t dance into another lying mirror. “You said you wouldn’t steal me away to hide in shadows, but you could send others to take me, and this place is very bright.”

His shoulders drew back, and his chin lifted. He’d offered her formal welcome and she asked for formal confirmation that he hadn’t betrayed her. She wasn’t ready to burn for him as his sun. She had to know he wouldn’t snuff her out first.

“I did not ask for you to be taken. I did not ask for you to be changed against your will. I did not ask other hands to commit such sins in my name, nor will I in future.” Angling his face down again, he offered her a glimpse at the wrath hidden there. He had not forgotten her suffering. It would not go unpunished. And just as quickly as he revealed his rage, he buried it again, stowing the knives and earthquakes for the villains who’d driven her to ask for proof in the first place. He watched her absorb what he’d said, and his voice turned feather soft. “You are my most cherished guest, and though I ask that you stay until word has spread and it is safe for you to walk the Waking world, you are no prisoner.”

Blinking, she took a deep breath. It rattled all the way down to her fingers, and she shook out her hands to banish the trembling.

“Thank you.” He gave, and he gave, and he gave. Time, space, reassurance. Her gaze roved the complicated mass of imagery covering the wall, looking for a theme. A hint. Frozen sailors reached for the land, tying sails against a wind determined to keep them at sea. Trees bloomed. Flowers fell. Fruit swelled, and snakes crept through their own shed skins as seeds burst from fallen, rotting apples. Time, loss, and rebirth without aim.

“What do you want, Morpheus?”

Had she ever actually asked him? She desperately wanted the truth. The whole thing.

“You were right.” Her own truth. An olive branch. An invitation and a plea. “Others shaped my view of you. So, now’s your chance. Tell me, so I can it from your own mouth. What do you want?”

In this moment, she was judge, jury, and executioner. No one would decide who or what she loved, and she would know the entity whose name she carried before she gave him anything else.

The air turned sharp. It cut the light like a prism, glittering in her monster’s eyes, a focus so sharp it broke sunbeams into their constituent parts. For all the black he wore, he practically glowed, a king in all ways, an open heart in more. Only here. In private. For her.

His eyebrows lifted, pinched. “I want you.” His voice was a song, weaving everything that could be beautiful between them into the simplest terms. “I want to be near you. I want to comfort you.” He approached, drawing his words out with cautious steps, hands hanging stiff at his sides. He halted, just far enough for her to feel safe, even when he spoke again, letting his lust drip into his tone, scenting his song with night-blooming jasmine. “I want to love you and make love to you.”

That was… honest. Heat rushed over her face, and she dropped eye contact like it was the source of the fire.

Fuck.

It was, actually.

When she first saw him, locked away in the cage beneath Fawney Rig, she thought his beauty was a warning, a good reason to look away and avoid him. Beautiful things were almost always cruel, but now… Well, things were different, weren’t they?

“I want you to know me.” He glanced out the window, and she instinctively did the same, looking over distant mountains and glittering bridges. World beyond worlds. “The Dreaming is a part of me. Simply by walking it, I feel you’re exploring me.”

They looked at each other again, just a little closer than before, and the hope in her monster’s eyes made him almost boyish. He was older than her planet, probably. But even an Endless must be reborn sometimes, in some ways, like the snake winding through the rotting fruit.

So, she’d met him when the water splashed over her toes. She let him comfort her when she drank the tea and ate the food of the Dreaming. Even if she hadn’t held his hand or looked in his eyes, and he was reaching for her in all but body now.

Fine.

Alright then.

She wouldn’t be anxious over a project she’d already begun.

“May I touch you?”

His smile bloomed soft and sweet. “Yes.”

Having the permission she needed from his strange eyes, his lips, the face she still didn’t know, she looked at his hands. She drew the tips of her fingers along his knuckles, a whispered touch asking for an answer, and he lifted the hand for her inspection, turning it over so she could see the creases of his palms. Invitation and vulnerability. Her touch wandered the lines, trying to read the silky flesh like a book. Palmistry had never been her forte, though, and she only found her own memories in his life and love lines.

“I know these better than your face,” she admitted. They felt safer, something secure to hold when his galaxy eyes threatened to sweep her away.

She found her courage in inches, lifting her eyes to his shoulders. His neck, his skin pale and untouchable as a reflection of the moon. Would she find the same strength in the rest of him as she did in his hands? The same possessive tenderness? The same call that felt like a puzzle coming together when she stroked his fingers, demanding and comforting as a deep breath after a dive?

Gingerly, like one or both of them was made of glass, she pressed an index finger to either side of his jaw. The barest caress drew along the edge of his face, not just feeling him, but listening to the hushed drag of skin on skin, until her two hands met, fingertip to fingertip, over the point of his chin. A sigh gusted down her wrists, along her elbows, and a rebel army of goosebumps sprang to life at his summons.

Without entirely meaning to, she looked up and met his eyes, and once she found them, they snared her.

It was entirely unfair for anyone to have actual stars in their eyes, and she read her doom in them as easily as she read her cards.

“I’d like to kiss you.”

His eyes flicked to her lips, and he shifted closer, keeping his hands to his side despite the way his want curled out to close the distance like a physical force. Well. It was his world. Perhaps it was. It found her heart and tugged.

Her own gaze dropped to his mouth, waiting to read his answer. “May I?”

“Yes.” His voice rumbled so low and strong she felt it like thunder. No hesitation.

She wondered if she’d have to rise onto her toes to reach him, but he swept down to meet her, giving rather than waiting for her to cautiously claim what she’d asked for. Her eyes fluttered shut at the first caress. A soft touch expressing and savoring everything she’d allow. There was no demand, but as she pressed into the kiss, chasing the delicate friction, he answered in kind.

Little sparks carried through her blood. Through her mind. Urging something to life. Drops of sunshine calling up flowers in springtime. He tasted like traces of smoke from a campfire on a cold night. Vellum and lignin. The last breath before a jump.

When she broke away to breathe, she peered into his face, and she felt the trembling rush of standing in a high place. In the Dreaming, were the butterflies in her stomach real, too?

His hands hovered, framing her face with restrained yearning.

“May I touch you?” Gravel thickened his voice until it nearly broke, and he searched her expression with bared desperation. “May I hold you so I may feel you are well? May I love you, my little hero?”

She settled her hands over his, kissed his palm, and guided his fingers to her cheek, closing the gap he’d left for her to decide in. “You may touch me.”

He accepted her permission with open wonder, taking a full moment to rest where she’d led him, moving just enough to stroke the line of her cheekbone with his thumb. When he freed himself of the spell she’d so innocently cast, he let his touch wander – sweeping over her brow, tracing her nose, cradling her jaw. But when he came to her mouth, he lost his focus. He replaced hand with lips, jolting back after the briefest, most chaste contact when he realized he hadn’t asked permission.

She grabbed the lapels of his long coat, shaking the fear from his expression. “You can kiss me. Please. You don’t need to ask. Not tonight.”

The worried frown he’d grown melted. A smirk washed up his face, dark with promise. But he didn’t tease her. He claimed another, proper kiss instead. Free to touch her, he angled her face with careful pressure, showing her how best to deepen the pleasure of lips, and teeth, and tongues, until she was equally breathless and reluctant to breathe.

Resting forehead-to-forehead as she recovered – as she gathered air to take the plunge again – he asked, “May I hold you?”

“Yes.” Her turn to answer quickly, for an ache to strain her voice.

Long limbs twined around her, drawing her close with a hand on her back and another on his him as her monster once again set to work trying to consume her. She did finally rise onto her toes, begging for more with eager hands slipping up his shoulders to comb into his hair. He gave her too much to feel, and she couldn’t give each piece its due. His lips gliding over hers. The secure warmth of his arms. Smooth skin and soft hair. The pressure of his chest against hers.

She knew pains like this. Sensations too overwhelming and complicated to make sense of. But she’d never felt pleasure the same way, and it swept her away faster than a riptide. She’d given the sea permission to drown her, though, so it was alright. More than alright. Wonderful.

He wasn’t as cool as he’d been when she first touched him. The rosy heat didn’t blush over his skin, but it pressed out to meet her, as if he was taking inspiration from the pulse and flush of mortality. Her blood warmed her because it must. He only warmed from a desire to be near.

“And may I love you?” A kiss to her cheek. “May I?” Another just below her ear. Withdrawing to lift her gathered hands to his lips, holding her gaze, he brushed a third kiss over her knuckles. “May I?”

Almost too disoriented to answer, she nodded, running her palms over his clothed chest. “Yes. Please, Morpheus – ”

His name on her lips tore through the last of his self-control. Finally. Finally given permission. Finally near enough to touch, and taste, and take. He crushed her closer with tender, rabid affection, kisses wandering to her cheek, down her neck, and back to her lips to share her sighs.

Maybe she wasn’t the sun, but how she burned for him.

Lovely as it was, she wanted his coat off. With their lips tangled together, she struggled to ask, but she pushed at it, and he wordlessly agreed, helping her peel it away from his shoulders to drop, abandoned, somewhere behind him. Her monster’s greatest frustration with the act was the time he spent with his hands otherwise occupied, and he grabbed her back to him like they’d been separated for years, not seconds.

His hand slipped beneath the soft shirt he so thoughtfully provided when she woke, and she whimpered into his mouth, caught off guard by how good this new wave of sensation felt. Fragments of control washed away with each graze of a knuckle or press of his palm along her back, pulled away as sand in the surf.

When she released her hold on his shoulders, he left her break the kiss, his eyes somehow even darker as he watched her reach for the hem of the garment. He helped her – carefully, reverently – guiding her arms and head out of the fabric. His lips parted as he looked her over, and he reached for the bottom of his own shirt. She mirrored his performance, helping him with the simplest chore of escaping his clothes, and when he emerged from the black shirt’s depths, he reappeared with a smile. A little amused. Deeply fond.

More kisses. Cautious hands mapping new spaces. Enjoying each other slowly so the heat could grow. Shared breaths, every shudder and shift pressed into the other’s flesh. Wrapped up in each other entirely. There wasn’t room for fear or doubt; they stood much too close.

Even when Dream pulled back again, something as fiendish as it was loving in his expression, she couldn’t remember there was a room or a world beyond him.

He spread his palm wide over the center of her chest, covering the flesh between him and his mark, and he pressed down. Gravity bent to his will, an intractable urge. She fell to his desire and found herself sprawled flat on something comfortable that wasn’t a bed. But he left her no time to wonder, following her with a rain of kisses that left her dizzy. As his hands crept down, he hovered, watching for her to revoke her permission, or even the slightest hint of discomfort. But by the time he’d reached the rest of her clothes, her hands fluttered around his, trying to slip multiple layers off in one go. She wanted her pants gone as much as she’d wanted rid of his coat, and he chuckled as she kicked them off the last inch.

Once she’d escaped the last fabric keeping her from his touch, she drew him back for a kiss, this one so soft it spoke his thanks. His care.

Although he rested between her legs, he didn’t rush. He attended her breasts, plucking yelps and giggles from hidden ticklish spots, rising back to her lips again and again as she grew hotter and more desperate under his hands. They might’ve spent a hundred years hovering on the threshold, finding each other in grazes and kneading grips.

At last, he roved lower, and even as he brushed his lips over hers, his thumb rolled over her bud. Slowly, tortuously almost, he fluttered over the nub, refusing to explore further until she whimpered and writhed. He traced down her folds and groaned. She could feel how wet he’d made her, and the mortification would’ve swamped her if she couldn’t feel how excited it left him. The bulge pressing against her hip left no doubt.

His fingers sank inside, curling to pull something out of her. She gave him a moan, a fluttering thing, unsure on new wings, and he hovered with his mouth hanging open in awe, like he could catch it. Keep it. Cage it in his ribs to keep. Before, when he’d pleasured her in the dream, he had plenty to say, even when his mouth was on her. That was worship. This was communion. A true meeting, a joining without words.

He worked her open diligently. And all the while, he held her gaze, feasting on it.

Every nerve sang for him, and he coaxed her to the very edge before she grabbed his wrist. He froze, looking for pain in her expression, and she kissed the worried line between his eyebrows.

“I want you.”

She didn’t need to explain. With a look so vulnerable he almost looked hurt, he said, “You have me.”

When he pulled back this time, he took her with him, and she sat astride his lap as he worked a mark into her neck, giving her time to change her mind. His pants had magically disappeared. She wasn’t at all surprised, though she’d wanted to help take them off herself. Next time, maybe.

Next time? There would be a next time. And another next time. And all the next times she wanted.

Elated by her revelation, she all but yanked his face from her neck so she could kiss him properly. He laughed, and it tasted like elderflower cordial, rich and sweet enough to make her drunk with one sip. She ground down on his length, and his hands spasmed on her waist.

“I’m ready,” she assured him with an eager peck. “I want this.”

He shifted, arranging himself to brush her entrance, but he didn’t press. Even here, he waited for her. She sank to meet him, her grip on his shoulders seizing as she stretched. His hold moved to her back, her neck, cradling her near instead of exerting any kind of control. And she was glad. She needed it as her eyes all but rolled back into her skull.

As light kisses rained over her face, she fought to relax, to take him entirely. She only opened her eyes once she had him. Once he had her. And once she saw him, she wondered how she could ever turn away again.

It was the way he looked at her. Fathomless patience meeting desperation. All of it honed by time. He’d craved her company before she was born, and he’d wrestled back his yearning until it cut into his soul to keep from scaring her away.

He wanted to be seen, and held, and cared for, too.

A thousand adoring words bubbled up her throat, but it wasn’t the right time, so she peppered them soundlessly down his neck and along his collarbones instead.

And she moved.

The drag was almost too much. The pressure brought stars to her own eyes, and although she refused to close them, sometimes she thought they’d fluttered shut, because the push and pull of their lovemaking really was blinding. He stroked up to meet each roll of her hips, crooning as she kissed and petted and squeezed him.

They were the turn of stars, the draw of ancient voids too vast for names, and all the voiceless songs strung between worlds.

She forgot the pain in her chest. She forgot she’d ever done anything but burn for her monster. Her Morpheus.

If she wasn’t the sun, she must’ve swallowed one.

The inferno melted her from the inside out, and she all but fell apart, wrapped around him, and cheek-to-cheek, he groaned in her ear. She panted, open-mouthed, fighting for air and sense as he kept his slow, deliberate pace. He hadn’t even begun to have his fill yet, and he held her all the tighter as her quaking limbs refused to play.

When feeling eventually returned to her legs, she pulled them around his waist, anchoring herself and refusing to release him as adamantly as he clung to her. The otherworldly sensations lingered, but she remembered herself a little more, found the cognizance to appreciate who held her, who she’d accepted. Who stoked the flame, sheathed inside.

Even as he worked her up to another orgasm, a painfully soft part of her heart burst open, and affection flooded her system. It bled open and free, forcing tears to her eyes.

She was safe, and he was hers, and she –

She really had to tell him somehow. She couldn’t bear to say it, though.

She’d be worthy of his face. She’d break him out of a thousand cages. If only he’d keep her so close and secure and warm.

This time when she trembled to pieces, there was no putting her back together, and her monster graciously followed her release. He kissed her as he came, holding her still so they could feel every shudder of the end. And when he’d finished, as their breathing steadied, he tumbled with her back into something soft, never once letting her slip from his arms.

#fic: hello mr. monster #morpheus x reader #sandman x reader #morpheus x oc #dream of the endless x reader

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