#pencil! for the first time in. at least a year?! lol

[running-in-the-dark]

a quick little sketch of Jenkins, made on my (luckily not broken) iPad

[suhkusa]

HELL OF A WOMAN.

PAIRING. Bakugou Katsuki x f!Reader

CW. slight enemies-to-lovers, some angst but not heavy, fluff, you're both snarky (romantic), ~4k words, slice of life, reader has a healing quirk

A/N. i'd say slowburn but it's only slowburn because i barely ever write fics this long lol

Throughout your time in the nurse’s office as Recovery Girl’s student apprentice, you’ve met many different students. They all varied– whether it be their quirk, their grade, or even the injury they had come in for. 

Students from the general education, support and management departments rarely ever made their rounds to the nurse’s office, only coming in for a simple cut or bruise. 

That left you with those in the hero department.

You got along well with nearly all of them, even going as far as becoming friends with a few. And while that was true, of course there were gonna be some who you couldn’t get along with. But, there was specifically one student you could not stand. And he’d probably say the same thing for you as well. 

It was none other than Bakugou Katsuki.

———

The first time you really interacted with Bakugou Katsuki was within the first month of your apprenticeship. It was in your 3rd year, and you had already been managing well. 

Your day had started off fantastic. Recovery Girl had left you to run the office by yourself, thoroughly trusting your working and communication skills, so that she could run errands out of town. 

The office hadn’t been too busy, allowing you time to finish a bit of your homework at your own little desk next to hers. A few people came and left, just needing a simple healing of their arm or leg. 

You had been lost in thought when he slammed the door open, practically huffing as he walked in. Putting your pencil down, your wide eyes looked up and met his own. It felt as though he was burning a hole straight through your skull with the way he stared you down.

You didn’t even have to ask to know who he was. In your first and second year, his face was plastered nearly everywhere throughout the media. Bakugou Katsuki. But you’d never talked to him. Well, until now.

Assuming he’d be like every other person who walked through that door, stating their business then quietly leaving, you broke the deafening silence.

“Uh, yes?” you let out, cringing internally at the way the words came out.

Bakugou looked around the room before back at you, “Where the hell is the old woman at?” he spat.

You were seemingly surprised at his not-so-subtle entrance and dirty language. 

“If you meant Recovery Lady by “old woman”, then she’s out of town for some errands. I can help you if–”

“And who the hell are you?” he snapped before you finished, impatience laced in the way he spoke and stood before you.

You could practically feel how your jaw dropped and eyebrows furrowed at his blunt question. If he didn’t hold back, then why should you?

“I’m Y/N L/N, I’m Recovery Lady’s helper. Now,” you put on the most calm and collected voice you could manage, “what the hell do you want?”

The day was going well, before now at least, and you were not going to let some egoistic, cocky guy ruin it for you. Tug of war is a game with two different sides, and you weren’t gonna let him win victoriously. 

Bakugou’s face scrunched up at the words you spat right back at him, opening his mouth to retort something– probably an insult– before letting it fall shut with a grunt. 

“What the– Just put a bandage on this shit,” he held his arm out for you to see a scrape wound running up the length of it.

You raised an eyebrow as you glanced between the injury and his eyes that looked down at you expectantly. And waited.

“The fuck you staring at?” he spoke– yelled, really– before stepping a bit closer.

A smirk tugged up at the corner of your lips before you sat back in your spinning chair, crossing a leg over the other. Like you were the one expecting something.

“You–”

“Please.” you cut him off, lifting a hand to inspect your nails nonchalantly. Hm, maybe you should get them done.

“Like hell I’m saying that, do something about–”

“Please.”  you repeated, emphasizing the word in a louder tone. You looked at him from behind your lifted hand, the smirk that once teased at your mouth now sitting there fully– mocking him.

“Fine! Fuckin’ fine!”  Bakugou snarled, his pearly whites peeking from under his lips. “Will you please do something about this?”

Satisfied, you responded, “‘Kay,”

———

Perhaps you should’ve bit your tongue before you spoke to the oh so great Bakugou Katsuki. In your defense, you didn’t know he’d hold it against you. You were joking, obviously. It was obvious. Right?

And so, everytime he walked into the nurse’s office, he’d send you the same nasty glare, practically seething through his teeth as he made eye contact with you. You knew exactly why he did the gesture every time he came in, but how long did this guy hold grudges for? It wasn’t like you publicly humiliated him or anything. 

“Why are you always looking at me like that?” you asked him one day as the Recovery Lady escorted him to one of the vacant cots, leg stretched out as you leaned back in your chair. 

“Hah? Like what?” he grunted in your direction as he took a seat, an eyebrow raised in curiosity? Irritation? Probably both.

“Mm,” you looked up to the roof as if you were thinking, “Like you like me or something, I mean it’s really flattering but you don’t have to sta—”

“As if. I’d rather watch an elephant take a dump than stare at your face any day,” Bakugou inputted as he lifted his arm to allow Recovery Lady to heal the injury along his bicep.

“Oh really? I didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff, Bakugou,” 

You fidgeted with the pen in your hand as you watched his face scrunch up. 

“You know what—”

Just as he was about to rise and stand from his spot, Recovery Lady quickly and gently pushed him to sit back down. 

“Y/N,” she emphasized your name with a familiar tone, “I think we’re running low on bandages, could you go get some from the storage room?” 

Even though her words were anything but hostile, you and Bakugou could tell she was scolding you. You let out a sigh. 

“Yeah, I can,” 

Getting up from your seat, you set your things down before making your way to the door. Not before stealing one more glance at Bakugou. He was also staring back at you, but this time there was a bit of cockiness in his eyes. Getting the last word never hurt anybody.

You slid the door open, eyes still locked with his, “You know, you’d probably look cute as well if you didn’t look like you were constipated 24/7,” 

“The fuck—”

Quickly sticking your tongue out at him, you shut the door before he was able to finish his sentence.

———

The nurse’s office had been particularly quiet today. The slow day in the office gave you more free time to yourself, which allowed you to catch up on a couple past assignments. Only two or three people came in before the lunch bell rang. After packing your bag, you waved off Recovery Lady as you excused yourself to the cafeteria.

And when you returned, it was still quiet. You quickly noticed that it was also void of Recovery Lady, the short woman nowhere to be seen. As you slid the door shut behind you, you heard a hushed groan come from one of the beds. Your head snapped to the source of the noise, quietly stepping closer to the person. 

Almost naturally, you recognized the disheveled blonde hair. Bakugou. 

But this was different. New. He was quiet for once, and the eyes that almost always were glaring at you were closed shut. Your body relaxed at the unusual sight of him. And maybe if you were crazy, you would’ve thought he was cute. 

As you got closer, you noticed the slight crease in his eyebrows, as well as the bandage that was wrapped around his torso. 

Perhaps you got too caught up in the moment, though. Too caught up in the way his chest slowly rose with each breath, the way his skin seemed to glow under the sun’s filtered light. So caught up that you didn’t realize those familiar crimson eyes were staring back up at you.

“You a pervert now?” his voice cut through silence, causing you to tense and step back. “The hell are you looking at?”

For a moment, it felt like your voice was caught in your throat. You caught yourself trying to find something to look at. Something other than him.

“Looks like you’re in quite a predicament,” you commented with a breathy laugh, not really knowing what else to say. Stupid joke.

“No, really?” sarcasm was laced in his tone, but you could hear the struggle as he grunted quietly afterwards.

Maybe you’d spare him for the day.

“Recovery Lady hasn’t gotten to you, yet?” you asked as you slowly made your way to your desk, setting down your bag.

“Nah,” he let out a huff as he sat up, “Shit— she wasn’t here when I got here,”

Letting out a hum in response, “Do… Do you want me to help you then?” you asked, even though you already knew the likely answer.

“What the hell do you think—” 

“You know, on second thought I have some homework—”

He let out an exasperated sigh before surrendering once again, “Yes. Yes, please. Help me,”

Biting back a small smile, you turned back around to make your way back to the injured man. You pulled up a chair next to the bed, sliding in closer. After gesturing him to lay back down, your hands carefully peeled back the bandages that covered the wound. You’d never get used to the sight of blood. 

You could feel the way his body tensed every time your hand neared his injury, though you tried your best not to touch it at all. 

“Sorry if it hurts a little,” you said, lifting your hands over the gash, “Just do your best to relax,”

“Whatever,” Bakugou responded as he turned his head away from you. 

It happened in a flash. From his peripheral view, he saw your hands glow, and the next thing he knew: he was fine again. Not a scar, scratch, or wound in sight. Like it wasn’t even there. 

Though you enjoyed the perplexed look in his eyes, you could feel yourself becoming rather light-headed. You took a deep breath before standing up and going back to your desk to get your water bottle. 

As you took a sip of your water, you watched as he sat up in the cot, lifting up his shirt to examine the skin. 

“Never seen a quirk before?” you laughed at his amusement.

His face quickly snapped back to his normal grouchy look, “No, just didn’t know you had a quirk at all, you usually just bandage my injuries up. Plus healing quirks are rare,”

“Mm, I get that a lot,” you mused, twisting the cap back onto your water, “It’s just a normal healing quirk though. I’ve been working with Recovery Lady to train it’s capabilities,”

Bakugou grunted in response. Silence filled the room for a moment before he decided to speak up. 

“Gonna head back to class,” he stated curtly, swiftly putting his blazer back on before stepping towards the door, “Thanks, I guess,” 

With one last glance back at you, he was gone. Leaving you and the rapid thumping of your heart alone in the room once again. 

———

“Is anyone sitting here?” a gruff voice came from above.

With the rest of the noise in the cafeteria, you nearly didn’t hear him. Your eyes gazed up from your food toward him, eyebrow shooting up in question.

“Uhm,” you swallowed the food in your mouth before responding, “what does it look like to you?” 

You gestured to the empty seats around you before going back to poking at your lunch.

“Tch, just asking,” Bakugou murmured under his breath as he tugged a chair out from under the table and took a seat.

As you ate, you couldn’t help but sneak a couple of glances his way. Just why was he sitting with you? Was this his own silent way of tormenting you?

“So,” you started before clearing your throat, “what do you want?”

You could see him freeze mid-bite, eyes shooting up to you.

“To eat? What else?” he grunted nonchalantly.

Well no shit.

“Oh really? Didn’t know that,” you rolled your eyes, “why not eat with your friends?”

“Don’t wanna,”

Your lips pulled into a thin line before you gave up. You dismissed him as you continued to finish your lunch. After this you’d probably have enough time to take a nap in the nurse’s office. In an attempt to finish your food without starting some random argument with the blonde next to you, you kept the interactions to a minimum.

After you finished, you debated your options. Did you say goodbye or just… leave? Just leaving would be rude, wouldn’t it? Well who cares, you sure don’t–

“Hold on,” he called out, catching your attention.

You watched as he quickly finished the rest of his lunch, gathering his stuff before standing up. 

“What–”

“Alright, let’s go,” he said as he walked past you towards the garbage can.

“Uh,” you followed shortly after him with your trash, “go where?”

Stacking his tray with the others, he sent you a glare with a rough, “Where else?” 

When you didn’t respond with a word but instead with a confused look, Bakugou sighed and continued. 

“The nurse’s office,” 

Your mouth dropped open in a silent “Ohh”. You tugged your bag over your shoulder as you walked up next to him.

 The walk through the halls was rather silent other than the couple of students that walked past the two of you. But not a word was said between the two of you. At least until he opened his mouth. 

“So, what are your plans after graduating?” he asked, hands in his pocket as he continued to walk by you. 

You let your eyes scan the exterior through the wide UA windows when you responded, “Hm, I think I’ll find a job in a hospital? I think I wanna work in some field with heroes, but I’m not quite sure yet… And you?”

“Obviously I’m gonna a hero,” Bakugou scoffed with a smirk, “Gonna be the best one, at that,” 

“I see,” you let a light laugh slip out at his confidence.

“What’s funny, huh?” he asked, voice suddenly scarily serious. 

Your eyes widened, “Nothing, nothing– It’s just we barely have normal conversations like this. I guess,” you quickly added.

Bakugou hummed in response, coming to a quick stop as the two of you reached the nurse’s office’s door. 

“Well,” you step closer to the door, “Thank you for walking me here, Bakugou,” you smiled.

“Katsuki,”

“Hm?”

He rolled his eyes, “Just call me Katsuki,” he turned the other way quickly before waving you off, “Later, nerd,” 

A laugh escaped you as you watched him walk away, waiting a couple of more moments before walking into the office.

Maybe if you stared for a little longer you would’ve seen the way his ears reddened at your smile.

———

“Oh! Good afternoon Bakugou and Kirishima!” the voice of the elderly woman snapped you awake, causing you to jump in your seat.

You could hear a snicker come from a certain person as you turned to see the two who entered the room.

Your eyes were met with a seemingly beaten up Kirishima and Bakugou, the two having scruffs, scratches and bruises on their skin.

“What were you guys doing this time?” Recovery Lady escorted the two to their own beds, tending to Bakugou’s injuries and gesturing to you to help Kirishima.

“Ah, just training, same as always,” the red head responded with a smile, “Oh, hey Y/N,”

You could feel the ends of your mouth tug upwards at his greeting, “Hey,”

“How’s everything been?” 

As you continued your chatter with Kirishima and helped him with his injuries, you didn’t seem to see or feel the daggers of stares that Bakugou sent in your direction.

On the other hand, Bakugou didn’t even know why he felt like this. 

What was he pissed about? It’s not like the two of you are friends. Did you consider him a friend? Yet why did it feel so utterly annoying to watch you interact with some other guy? 

That was beyond Bakugou. 

Maybe he already knew the answer. And maybe he didn’t want to come to terms with what that answer held.

Either way he couldn’t take another second of this.

“Bakugou? Where are you going—”

The sound of Recovery Lady’s frantic voice caught the attention of you and Kirishima. Your eyebrow raised in confusion as the blonde made his way to the door with the little lady following him.

“You’re not fully healed yet,” the old woman claimed.

“It’s fine,” 

“Let him,” Kirishima said after Bakugou slammed the door shut. “He’s been a little off lately,”

You wrapped a bandage around Kirishima’s elbow, “Off? How?”

Kirishima’s eyes looked up in thought, “He’s been kinda closed off lately; barely comes to our hangouts,”

“Ooh,” you sighed as you continued helping the guy in front of you.

There was a seedling of worry planted in your stomach, and you barely had any clue why. It’s not like you guys were close. He was just some guy who came to the nurse’s office like every other student. Maybe those late nights staying up were finally catching up to you. 

After cleaning up and sending Kirishima off, you were finally left alone. Recovery Lady had left a while ago to fetch some supplies from the storage room. And so that left you and your thoughts alone in the office.

———

A week had gone by.

A week had gone by, and there had been radio silence from Bakugou.

Either training had slowed down or he was completely avoiding you. And either way, it still made you a bit sad. Only a bit. 

Days in the nurse’s office were slow and lonely. You never made a real connection with anyone. People came and people left. They come to get healed and leave. No side talk, albeit a few exceptions. Bakugou being one of those.

 There were times where you thought you saw him entering the nurse’s office when you were leaving, but the glimpses were so small that you chalked it up to your imagination.

It felt like he was consuming your every thought, so you had no choice but to accept the fact that maybe you had a crush on Bakugou. Maybe.

But so what? That was normal, everyone had a crush on him at one point. Too bad you fell victim along with the rest of them, though.

Admitting to yourself that you liked Bakugou was hard, but having to actually deal with the feelings you had was harder. One, because you’ve never really had a serious crush. And two, he was nowhere to be seen. Having a crush on him made your heart beat so quick that you’d use your quirk on yourself to make sure you weren’t having heart problems.

Soon, one week turned into two.

And it seemed like the office was only getting busier as the third years prepared for their finals. Everyone was in and out as they practiced their hand to hand combat more vigorously and more often.

The first couple of days, it was easy. But towards the end of the week, you began to fatigue. Having to balance your own finals and running around the office having to use your quirk over and over was doing a number on you. 

The injuries were becoming worse, the amount was increasing. At times, you were dizzy with how many times you’d have to keep turning around from bed to bed to help someone new. 

Then there was a calm. You barely noticed a full week of finals had swung by, leaving the clinic empty and quiet. 

“Is it alright if I nap during the passing period?” you turn in your chair to Recovery Lady, who is stocking up the medicine cabinets.

“Of course, you should be fine, if anything I can handle anyone who comes in,” she tells you.

You sigh in relief as you walk to the nearest bed on weak legs, basically melting into it as soon as your body hits the cushion. You knock out on the spot, letting your well-deserved slumber overcome you.

———

 Your slumber is interrupted by a slight jolt to the bed frame you’re lying on. You groan as you flip onto your other side. The light escapes through your lashes, creating a blurred light illusion with a silhouette. Your eyes shot open, a silhouette? 

You become conscious of yourself as soon as you realize the one before you is none other than Bakugou Katsuki. There’s a stupid grin on his face which makes you want to slap it right off of him. You sneakily nudge at the drool on the side of your mouth and adjust your clothing and appearance.

“Finally awake, sleeping beauty?” he says from the seat beside you, and it feels like forever since you’ve last heard that voice of his.

“Yeah, because of someone,” you grumbled, eyebrows scrunching up. He laughs, laughs, as his eyes focus on you.

“It’s getting late,” is all he says.

You have half a mind to respond, until you remember that he’s been avoiding you. Your eyebrows tighten together impossibly closer, as you flip to face away from him.

“You’re a dick,” you say matter-of-factly. “You’ve been avoiding me, I’m not stupid,”

Your eyes are jittery as they look everywhere. Trying to focus on something in the room to distract yourself from all of the possibilities of what might come out of his mouth.

“Why do you care?”

His words cause you to sit up, facing him once more. “What do you even mean, why? I used to see you everyday, then suddenly you just walked out and I never saw you again,”

Bakugou’s eyes slightly roll at your words, and it kind of hurts.

“I just thought maybe we were…” your words trail off causing Bakugou to stare at you more intently.

“Were what?”

“I don’t know, friends, or some shit,” you bury your head in your hands out of embarrassment.

“Did I say we weren’t?”

“Well, you never said we were,”

“Didn’t think I had to,” he says, “Thought you were smarter than that, doc,”

You smile at the nickname. “You can leave now, I’m awake, I just have to close up the clinic. Why were you here in the first place?”

“Had to make sure you weren’t dead or something,”

Laughing, you get up to fix the bed sheets. The words that fly out of your mouth come out on their own. 

“What, do you like me or something?”

“Probably,”

His careless response didn’t register in your mind at first, but when it did, you could feel the heat rush from the back of your neck up to the tips of your ears. 

“W-What? You can’t just say that… weirdo,” your eyes flick up at him then back down to the sheets, fluffing up the already neat pillows. 

Silence filters through the room, the only noise filling your ears being the noise of cotton and linen being moved around. Along with the sound of your heartbeat thumping in your ears. It felt so loud, that you swear he could probably hear it as well. You didn’t know what to do, was this real life?

Did those words really just come out of his mouth?

His head tilted and you could feel his gaze on you. It was nerve-wracking, and you were just hoping and praying he’d say something that’d clear your mind. A small, “just kidding,” would be nice right about now. The hurt you’d feel from that would be better than the anxiety you felt at this instant. 

“Say what?” he mocks, and it causes your eye to twitch.

You decide you’re not playing these games with Katsuki Bakugou today, “Oh nothing, must’ve been the wind,” you flutter your eyes before turning the other direction to fix up another bed that looks like it’d been used.

A hand on your wrist puts a stop to your motions, and it immediately makes your head turn back to meet his eyes. 

“B- Katsuki–”

You’d usually be able to come up with something snarky, but right now all your words were caught in your throat. You were actually scared to say the wrong thing for once.

“You were joking right?” you ask him, nervous for what his answer might be.

Bakugou is quick to retort, “Depends, were you?”

You gulp down your anxiety before giving him a response, “N-No,”

“Then? Use that smart little brain of yours, doc,”

“Say it,” you demand, “I’m not playing this little game with you, so say it,”

His ruby eyes roll before connecting gazes with yours once again, “I like you, or something,” he mimics your words from earlier.

You can feel yourself fluster. The dizziness in your head almost made you convince yourself that you were dreaming. If this was a dream, you wanted All Might himself to pop out and punch you across the face.

“Why don’t you say something now, hm?” his grip around your wrist loosens to a more gentle grasp.

His face closens to yours, the distance between the two of you is only breaths-length. 

“Since you’re so smart, you tell me,” you sass, “Take a guess, smartass,” 

A smile quirks at the corner of his mouth, “You’re such a dick,” he whispers under his breath before closing the distance completely, his lips locking with yours. 

Your eyes widen at the pure shock, but you ultimately melt into the kiss. It’s sweet and you can feel the two of you smiling into it. 

When the two of you part, you can feel slight embarrassment wash over you. “You’re an ass, you didn’t even let me confess, my high school sweetheart experience is ruined forever, 

Bakugou lets out a breathy laugh at your words, “Thought you wanted me to take a guess,” 

“And if you were wrong?” 

“Hah, as if,”

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[lowkeychenle]

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.

[mysteria157]

Equinox

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Black!Fem Reader

Summary: As Fall whispers its approach, you find yourself tangled in Toji's sheets and the remnants of a summer that was never meant to last.

CW: mild intoxication, explicit sexual content, slight angst, mentions of oral (f! receiving), missionary, vaginal sex, fluff and comfort. As always, reader is a black fem.

WC: 4.8K

Author notes: I had an idea for an 'end of summer' fic with Toji that I really needed to write. and I can't focus on anything else until this leaves my mind lol. Inspired by @absoluteindulgence 💕

As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated.

Happy reading!

Header: myself | Divider: @saradika @cafekitsune | @pixelcafe-network💕

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

The end of summer carries a unique weight, a bittersweet finality that hits everyone differently. For children, it’s the last wind of freedom—of the final days of sunkissed adventures with each other and nights that never seem to end, before the school bell calls them back to structure and routine. 

For the workforce, it’s a time of transition marked by the ticking clock of fiscal calendars. The not-so-busy days of August give way to a rush of activity—reports to file, budgets to review and close, plans to make for the coming year. Pencil skirts and a turned eye to open-toed shoes slowly shift back to crisp shirts and ironed slacks, polished and prepared for the productivity of fall.

For you, the shift is more powerful. It’s a sign of change that you’ve rehearsed but now find yourself forgetting the lines. It’s of saying goodbye to dalliances and an easy fling, of turning the page and embracing a new part of yourself. A new job. A new relationship status (single). A new outlook on life.

Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself it would be.

That’s what you tell yourself when you say ‘fuck it’ to monotony on your 30th birthday and decide to let your friends drag you around town. ‘Just try it,’ they giggle as you eye the horse races with a raised eyebrow, the announcer blaring in your ears over the roar of the crowd around you. It’s a place you would never imagine finding yourself. But you say ‘fuck it’ and go along for the ride. Tipsy and smiling from ear to ear as you yell to the wind when the #1 Happy Days crosses the finish line and puts three grand in your pocket.

‘Fuck it’ is what you tell yourself when nonchalant emerald eyes met yours, a scarred pair of lips smirking down as you slide your ticket to the attendee to collect your winnings. Nonchalant but mysterious emerald eyes that trace over your form without grace, eyeing the block sandals and too-tight shimmery silver dress that hugs your curves and shows the smooth brown skin of your thighs.

“Who gave you a heads up about Lucky Days? No way you won on your first try.” His voice is smooth, like fine velvet that ghosts over you.

“The disbelief in your voice tells me you lose often.”

Don’t encourage this.

That’s what you tell yourself when a heavily muscled arm drapes across the collections counter, a whiff of outdoors and mint and man wafting up your nose as his smirk deepens. “I don’t lose.”

The attendant mutters you a kind ‘Happy Birthday’ and slides a modest stack across the counter; your winnings twinkling up at you in crispy green. The large man next to you hasn’t moved, and unfortunately, you are tipsy enough to linger. Tipsy enough to drag your gaze over him with equal disgrace, catching the pale collarbone, angular jaw, and midnight hair that kisses his cheeks.

“Birthday magic then?” he inquires to keep your attention, taking a step closer with a confidence that makes your thighs clench. To you, he’s a tall man…a rugged, tall, and handsome man who lives in an untouched part of your mind. The kind of man that you always fantasize about doing the nastiest things with.

“I don’t know what that means.” You tuck your winnings against your chest, the deep cut of your dress pressing your breasts up against your arms, and his heavy gaze that falls upon them only makes something tingle in your core. “Now, go away before you ruin the rest of my day.” 

Go away before I make a bad decision.

He chuckles, a sound from deep in his chest, rattling the thick fabric of his black sweater. He gestures to your friends who are definitely drunk, downing another shot at the makeshift bar a few yards away. “You’ve got time.” 

“Not for you, I don’t,” you lie through your teeth, trying and failing to hold your breath when he takes another step. 

“You wanna bet, baby?”

Your reply catches in the back of your throat. Words that you know you should say right now. Words that you’ve had to speak to men countless times whenever you decide to go out and have fun and show any sort of skin past your ankle. Your bodies brush together, and you can’t tell if he wants you or the nice stack of cash resting on your tits.

But you don’t care.

“Something tells me, you’re not very good at gambling,” is what you retort, eyes locked on his, intention and desire radiating from you both as the little voice inside your head drowns in your arousal.

He’s bad news. This is a bad idea.

That’s what you tell yourself when you spend half your winnings with him on Takoyaki and a lost race. That’s what you tell yourself when you straddle his thick waist later that night, the frazzled ends of your dress pushed up over your ribs, panties shoved to the side with little fanfare. Taking a cock thicker than what you were used to, oozing an attachment you know won’t be good for you, finally asking for his name an hour later after he has you panting on your stomach from another orgasm.

“Toji Fushiguro,” he chuckles against the nape of your neck, nipping at the thin skin with sharp teeth that trail down your back, hiking your hips up before you gasp at the feel of his tongue between your sensitive folds as he eats you out from the back.

This is a bad idea.

That’s what you tell yourself when you wake up the next morning, sunlight streaming through unfamiliar curtains, your body pleasantly sore, your dress on the floor across the room, and your mind hazy with memories of the night before. You slip out before he wakes up, phone already pressed to your ear and prepared to get an earful from your friends for disappearing, now more determined than ever to make sure this was a one-time thing.

But summer has other plans.

Your plan to pick up fresh fruit from the farmer’s market is ruined when you run into his broad shoulders and easy grin, a stark contrast to the colorful produce around him. Your plan to enjoy the beach is gone with the salty wind when you see him again days later, droplets of seawater clinging to his muscled skin, making him glisten in the sunlight. Each encounter leads to another night of passion, another afternoon of embracing a sexual side of yourself you never knew was there, another morning of promises to yourself that this will be the last time.

Until eventually, something has to give. 

Just for the summer. No strings. No awkward conversations. Just sex. Because once the summer is over, you’ll be in a new office across town, too busy to entertain a relationship, let alone anything else in your life.

Just for the summer.

But as the weeks pass, something shifts. Stolen mornings of Toji’s head between your thighs because he was ‘in the neighborhood’ begin to stretch into lazy afternoons, you teaching him to cook fried green tomatoes and showing him the steps of your hair care routine. Hurried encounters in bathroom stalls with your legs wrapped around his waist and his filthy words in your ear give way to lingering touches and shared laughter at the absurdity of it all.

You find yourself opening up to him, sharing parts of yourself over ice cream cones he swears he can’t stand but eats anyway, the edges of his favorite—but won’t admit—Rocky Road melting too quickly in the summer heat over his pale hands. He starts to let his guard down, revealing glimpses of vulnerability behind those forest-green eyes. Of a harsh past, a complicated present, and a son overseas whom he hopes to see soon.

Maybe it was the Sunday afternoon when a sudden thunderstorm trapped you both in his apartment, leading to hours of conversation punctuated by rumbling thunder. Maybe it was the early evening you found him at the pier, silhouetted against a spectacular sunset, a tension in his shoulders and a quietness you had never seen or felt before.

You try so hard to ignore the changes in Toji’s behavior. The way his hand lingers on the small of your back when you are in public. The sight of your favorite snacks appearing in his kitchen because he is ‘tired of hearing you complain about him not having any food.’ The soft look in his eyes that you catch at odd moments while you both watch movies. 

‘Just for the summer’ has become an agreement that you both have not read the guidelines for in quite some time.

Now, as the first hints of autumn whisper through the trees outside, you find yourself exactly where you swore you wouldn’t be—tangled in Toji’s sheets that always smell too good and his warm body a solid presence behind you that always feels too safe. The room is covered in the gentle glow of dawn, a midnight blue breaking open for soft auburn, and you’re acutely aware of his arm draped over your waist, a muscled leg lodged between yours, his breath a steady rhythm against the nape of your neck.

You need to get up. Tomorrow is your first day at a new firm and you’ve let Toji keep you distracted from preparing. From shopping for new outfits and getting your hair done. From the inevitable of whatever the hell this is.

Instead, you turn carefully in his arms, the movement doing nothing to rouse him. You study his face in the gentle morning light that’s now gotten a little brighter. The scar at the corner of his mouth, once a symbol of a mysterious allure, is now as familiar as your reflection.

Hair the color of ink splays across his face, disheveled and frizzy, a few strings of silver at the roots above his ear. Before, you could get a good look at him while he slept and smirk to yourself that this would be your ride for so many weeks of summer. A fleeting but appreciative glance before you ducked away and left before he could open his eyes. Now as you look at him, your heart tightens with an emotion you’ve been trying to ignore for just as long.

This was a bad idea.

As if sensing your gaze, Toji’s eyes flutter open. For a heartbeat, two, he simply stares at you. The green in his eyes is deep, mesmerizing in the early morning light, still hazy with sleep but quickly sharpening as he focuses on your face. You can finally see the openness there, a susceptibility you occasionally find when he’s fully awake. You can never maintain eye contact in moments like this. It makes your breath catch in your throat because he’s too close, too intense, too much.

Wordlessly, Toji tightens his hold, pulling you flush against him. Your naked bodies mold together, the warmth of his skin seeps into yours, and you have to bite back a content sigh. There’s so much you’ve had to hold back lately to acclimate yourself to the eventual change. Then, with a gentleness that still surprises you, he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of your shoulder. 

“What time is it?” he mumbles, unfortunate soft lips trailing up to the sensitive spot behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You struggle to focus, his touch already making your heady fuzzy and jumbled. You glance at the nightstand, where the clock face peeks out from behind a summer’s worth of memories. Sun-bleached seashells from lazy beach days rest against crumpled ticket stubs, reminders of nights when you belted out lyrics while Toji pretended not to enjoy himself. 

“Just past seven,” you manage to whisper, somehow getting the words out as Toji’s touch scatters your thoughts further like the trinkets on the nightstand.

Toji hums in response, his chest vibrating against yours. “Too early,” he says, a low rumble that you feel between your thighs, awakening a hunger that only he knows how to satiate. “Stay a bit longer.”

He smells faintly of bonfire smoke from last night—an impromptu farewell to summer party thrown by your friends that ended with you both stumbling back to his apartment, tearing at each other’s clothes, his hands pulling an orgasm from you before your back could even hit the mattress. Last night was different—more intense, more passionate. A mess of sweaty limbs and heavy breathing as you panted against him, trying to wave your own white flag of surrender that never quite made it past your lips each time he gave you more, more, more, unwilling to let the night end.

As Toji shifts to hover above you, you’re struck by the familiar weight of him, how it feels a little too close to home. It’s comfortable when his waist rests against yours, his cock slowly hardening against your thigh. His kisses, once desperate and searing, have softened. They still ignite a fire in you, but it’s a steady burn now, deep and enduring in the core of your stomach.

“I should really get going,” you implore, but your voice wavers, free of the conviction you desperately need right now. “New job tomorrow, remember?”

“Hmm,” he hums again to the column of your throat. He lifts his head, his gaze fierce and penetrating. Outside, the birds begin their morning call, warming their wings to prepare for their journey south. “You’ve got time,” he says softly, echoing words from that first night at the horse track. He goes back into the crook of your neck, chapped lips pressing to your skin with promise. “Stay.” It sounds too much like a demand, punctuated by a thorough roll of his hips. Your own cant towards him without thinking. “I’ll make breakfast.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your chest, remembering the last time he tried to sway you longer in his bed a few weeks ago. You realized when you choked on a too-wet pancake that Toji’s culinary skills were limited at best. “You? Cook?”

A punishing nip to your neck makes you gasp, your fingers sliding up his back to dig into muscled meat. “I can manage eggs. Probably. Might even use those tomatoes we grew.”

The ‘we’ doesn’t escape your notice. The small vegetable patch was your idea, a whim that blurted from your mouth on a sweltering day, eyes bulging and lips ready to backtrack before he agreed and it became a shared project. Like so many things between you, it grew into something more when you weren’t paying attention. 

Toji’s hand traces random patterns on your skin, soft between your breasts and over your navel before brushing folds that are already wet. You shouldn’t widen your legs more, but you do. Shouldn’t bite your lip in that telling sign that you’re wanting, but you do that too. “Got that job site inspection next week,” he says, aiming for casual. “Not far from where you’ll be.”

You swallow a deep-seated mewl that gurgles in the back of your throat when his fingers circle your clit, calloused pads the right amount of rough to ignite that fire in your stomach. Next week is beyond the boundary you both had set, beyond the promise of ‘just this summer.’ Hope, so unwanted in this very moment but also so overwhelming and bright as the early September sun, flares in your chest.

“T-toji,” you choke out to the feel of a thick finger collecting the slick that leaks from you before sliding inside. The heel of his palm brushes against your clit with every thrust of his hand, and your body responds to him quickly. 

You walked into this thinking you would be able to wipe your hands of him and say goodbye when the leaves began to fall. But it didn’t take long for Toji to learn how to take you apart, to open you up and see how you ticked before sewing you back together with a skill that still surprises you. 

Your fingernails press into his back, a practiced demand for more and he rewards you with a stern but satisfied gaze and another finger in your wet cunt. The hand not working your core cards through your curls, twisting at your nape before tilting your head back, exposing more of your neck with a wet gasp from your lips. His tongue glides along your skin, tasting bonfire smoke and ocean salt, a rumble in his chest, and a curl of his wet fingers to show how much he enjoys it. How much he enjoys the taste of you.

“Stay,” he demands again, nipping your earlobe, a third finger sliding into your cunt and you moan sharply at the stretch. You’re a little sore from last night, but your body welcomes the ache and rejoices in the brush against the spongy spot inside of you that he hits with precision. That fire in your belly roils quicker than what you want, bubbling to the surface and ready to burst with an orgasm that’s pressing at your skin. You’re already gasping, already moaning, already fighting the urge to beg him for the thing that’s thicker and heavier between his legs.

“Did you hear me?” he asks, purring low in your ear. You can only nod as you savor the clench of muscles in your stomach from his ministrations below, the sound of his hand sopping wet as he plays with you. “Then answer me.”

You can’t. Even though you’ve rehearsed this exact conversation for the past week. Even though you’ve prepared the right words if he tried to make you sing for him one last time. You can’t speak. Because the realization that Toji is doing what he can to keep you here makes your breath hitch and the fire in your belly finally erupts as a moan falls from your mouth as if you’ve been gutted, your orgasm locking your muscles around him. You turn your head into the pillow beneath you, panting and body trembling, your nape tingling from his grip, the clock on his nightstand blurry because you have to keep your eyes on something besides his steely gaze that spears your skin.

As your orgasm fades into the chilly air around you, you know you’ve given too much, and you can’t let this go on. Reluctantly, you turn your head back to face him, ready to retreat. His crumbling, guarded gaze now holds a mix of desire and something deeper, more vulnerable and raw that’s too much for you right now. Toji’s jaw clenches as if he’s holding back more words. As if he’s frustrated with your unwillingness to give him what he wants.

Instead of speaking, Toji presses his forehead against yours, an intimate gesture that makes you wish he would have used his words instead. But this speaks more than words ever could. His breathing, usually calm and controlled even in the throes of sex, comes in short, ragged bursts, betraying whatever he’s trying to hide. 

It’s a rare sight. You’ve seen it on the nights he convinces you to stay over and he shoots up from his sleep, panting like he’s run a mile, the silver of moonlight kissing the scars on his back and telling you a story without having to ask. You saw it weeks ago when you both screamed at each other for the first time, a joke of you going on a date turned sour, his shoulders heaving in anger and eyes trying and failing to hold his true thoughts back.

It’s the same right now. Black hair swaying over his forehead as he hovers over you, the hand from between your legs now digging into the flesh of your hip with wet fingers. You notice the slight furrow in his brow, the way his lips part as if he wants to say something. They twitch for a fraction of a second, opening and closing just once before he leans in to kiss you, as if he’s suddenly unsure of his welcome.

And you hate how quickly you show just how welcome he is, sighing into his body and wrapping your arms around his neck. You hate how quickly your body reignites, hips arching up to brush against his pulsing cock, the touch producing a low groan from him into your mouth. He ruts against you, rubbing your dripping cunt in rough but practiced circles that make you whine against him. 

The summer is ending, you remind yourself. This has to end, you beg yourself even as you pull away from him, panting against wet lips that somehow always taste of the peppermint candy he refuses to go without. You reach down to wrap your hand around him, swallowing the hiss that shoots from him as you guide him to where you need him most. Toji enters you slowly, deliberately, cataloging the way you arch into him, your bodies fitting together like the last two pieces of a puzzle you’ve been working on all season.

Through the cracked window that Toji refuses to close every night, you hear the world slowly wake up—school buses and more bird calls mixing with your ragged breaths as he moves within you. Deep and with purpose, wanting but with a tinge of frustration. Your fingers dig into his back, leaving crescent moons that some part of you hopes never fade after you’re long gone. 

Each thrust feels like falling—falling into him, falling into feelings you weren’t prepared for, falling like the leaves outside that signal the end of one season and the beginning of another. The pleasure courses through you, building slowly, steadily.

You relax your nails on his back, roaming instead, feeling the flex and ripple of muscles beneath your fingertips. The landscape feels different now, charged with electricity that makes your skin tingle and your heart race.

The pressure builds within you, a warmth spreading from your core outwards, hot and pulsing with every brush of his pubic bone against your clit. It squeezes the sides of your neck, making it harder to breathe, to think, to act. Your breath comes in short, sharp pants, mingling with the crisp morning air.

Toji’s hands leave your hips, reaching up to grab your wrists. He presses them into the pillow, one on each side of your head, opening you up and leaving you exposed while he takes you apart with every roll of his hips.

“Fuck, Toji,” you whine, gasping into the air as you arch into him. “Don’t—”

“You’ve gotta answer me, sweetheart,” Toji’s voice resonates low and insistent as he kisses up your neck, groaning in satisfaction when you clench around him in reflex. “I know you can,” he urges, his rhythm never faltering and his voice strained, “Tell me you’ll stay.”

You want to tell him to shut up. To stop it and give you one last mind-blowing orgasm and leave this alone like you both agreed. But you can’t. Each of Toji’s movements pulls moan after moan from deep within you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head before you squeeze your lids shut so you don’t have to look at him.

Suddenly, one of Toji’s hands releases a wrist, and before you can react, his palm cups the side of your face, his touch unexpectedly gentle. His thumb brushes your cheekbone, a tender gesture that contrasts with the intensity of his thrusts. With careful pressure, he turns your face towards him.

You shouldn’t look at him, but your eyes flutter open to meet his anyway, sharp and powerful. His hand on your face is warm, almost cradling, yet insistent in its silent plea for your attention. You feel exposed under his scrutiny. Your body is bare along with your emotions, raw and unfiltered. “Stay,” he breathes once again, softer this time even though the heavy meaning pounds against you, unrelenting and harsh.

The hand on your cheek slides between your bodies before you feel his fingers on your clit, pleasure rocking through you like lightning, and you tighten around him. 

“Squeeze around me just like that,” he hisses at the feel of you, his breath hot against your skin, and you obey immediately, savoring the sharp grunt from his chest. “So fucking beautiful.” He’s said it so many times before but now it feels different. Dangerous. 

The fingers of your free hand dig into Toji’s shoulders, holding on for dear life as he fucks you with a ferocity that leaves you breathless, your body sliding up and down on the sheets.

“Oh,” you gasp, “Oh fuck Toji—I can’t—” Your body shakes against him, hips rolling with his fingers on your clit. You’re painfully aware of every sensation: the slide of skin on skin, slick with sweat; the subtle creak of the mattress beneath you and the thump of the headboard against the wall; the rustle of the sheets tangled around your legs. 

“Give it all to me, baby,” he encourages and you want to shake your head ‘no’ because you feel like he’s asking you for something else. “Let go for me.”

“I can’t,” you plead against his lips again, shaking your head even as your body speaks differently. Trying to finally tell him without actually telling him. You can’t let him in and get hurt. You can’t be brave enough to take a chance.

But like every challenge Toji has ever been given, he faces it directly, taking in your meaning immediately. The hand on your wrist slides up to your palm, his calloused fingers intertwining with yours. The pleasure intensifies, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly. It’s almost too much, this feeling of fullness, of completeness.

“Look at me,” he demands softly. As your eyes meet his, he whispers, “I need you here. With me.”

It’s the raw emotion in his gaze, the sharp shift from his usual gruff words, the sudden feel of his lips against yours as he kisses you, and the terrifying realization that this man wants more than just your body that pushes you over the edge. Your release crashes over you like a chilling wave, powerful and all-consuming. You cry out, breaking from his lips as your back arches, body shuddering, as intense pleasure radiates through every nerve.

Not even a moment later, the tightening of your body from your release is enough to take Toji with you. He slides a hand beneath you, crushing you up against him, hard muscles against soft brown skin as he tenses and groans low and deep into the air, painting your insides warm with his cum. You both collapse, breathing erratically, his weight a welcome suffocation.

In this moment of ecstasy, suspended between summer and fall, between what was and what could be, you finally acknowledge that something fundamental has shifted. Like the turning of the seasons, there’s no going back. And as you cling to Toji, riding out the aftershocks of your shared passion, you find that the word he’s asking for remains lodged in your throat, your mind a battleground between desire and fear, between staying and leaving. But you know you need to say something.

“Toji,” you start after a few minutes when your breathing has calmed down, uncertainty heavy in your voice. “We said—”

“I know what we said,” he interrupts, rough and frustrated and something else. He lifts his head, jade-green eyes meeting yours, his want clear in their depths. “Just—fuck. Maybe we…can say something different now.”

Toji may be guarded in the things he says, but he has never lied. Not to you. And there’s no lie in his features now. There’s no morning haziness to show you his vision and thoughts are clouded. There’s no sinful smirk that hides true intentions. It’s pure honesty.

And as you search his face, a gust of wind rattles the wind chimes outside that you hung together, carrying with it the scent of sun-warmed grass through his cracked window. You can’t help but think of all the moments that led to this—moments you tried to ignore—the laughter, the lust that burned into something deeper, the quiet understanding that grew between you as the summer days stretched long and golden.

His hand intertwined with yours gives you a firm squeeze, pulling you from your thoughts. “Stay,” Toji says one final time, and the finality of it means more than just this morning. More than just this summer.

The sunlight breaks through the brisk air to hit your cooling skin, warming you from the inside along with him atop you. You want to finally say ‘okay,’ but you’re still too afraid to speak, too afraid to ruin this moment with your words in case you back down at the last minute.

So instead, you give his intertwined fingers a firm squeeze as well, hoping that tells him what he needs to know. Hoping that tells him you have the courage to stay…right now.

Or at least just for the Fall.

Thanks for reading!

[meanbossart]

Another much overdue ask compilation! Some short-ish lore asks (Gale, Gort, DU drow relationships and pet-companion preferences) and a couple of art/advice ones sprinkled in. THIS IS BY NO MEANS ALL OF MY ASKS so as usual I appreciate everyone's patience!

I actually think he'd give them a pass entirely as soon as he noticed. Correct me if I'm mistaken but half-drow get No love from underdark drow and are usually surface babies right? So that fruit is miles away from the tree lol. I think he generally has a bit of a soft spot for mixed kinds since he himself feels like an amalgamation of sorts.

Thank you! They're kind of a pain in the ass to draw at times for that very reason but man I do like the look 😩if other people like it too then that makes it all worth it!

THAT'S TRICKY TO ANSWER BECAUSE OFTEN TIMES I'M NOT... REALLY TRYING. I've draw a ton of horror comics for mine and my partner's series' SAD SACK and SORTIE, so I think it just comes naturally to me 😅 also I do genuinely find expressive and, uh, rugged faces more attractive? (I think they look rugged, again that's what people tell me at least.)

I think the secret might be adding bits of realism in there. I get a lot of comments about the wrinkles and eyelashes I add to my art, as well as the way I draw individual teeth (though I've lately been making an effort to simplify my style in favor of drawing faster, so I haven't done that as much or in as much detail.)

Both symmetry and the lack of it can also add to that effect. I have employed both facial unevenness and almost point-perfect symmetry to achieve something a little frightening or otherworldly in my work. [MORE UNDER THE CUT]

Thank you so much!!! The contrast is very much intentional, that's what DU drow's character is all about ;)

Hahah well I somewhat doubt Bhaal would care that his spawn gets named, but either way he stripped himself of his name as soon as he killed his foster parents and abandoned the Underdark. He had a drow name that I jotted down somewhere but it's completely irrelevant because nobody has used it since he was a child, and he doesn't remember it (even pre-tadpole/having his brain scrambled.) Here's a little write up about his origins that might shed some more light on that: https://meanbossart.tumblr.com/post/739688837431836672/did-drow-ever-have-a-childhood-before-the-temple

And about his original drow-given name and the reason behind it: https://meanbossart.tumblr.com/post/741350986692591616/drow-had-to-have-been-given-a-name-by-his-adoptive

Everyone just referred to him as his supposed race, or as Bhaalspawn or Bhaal's child, and any other similar titles. Orin called him "kin" and "brother" and Gortash likely called him his associate. Post-tadpole the camp grows entirely used to calling him "the drow" and he has no desire to change that or to choose a proper name.

THANK YOU BOTH SO MUCH😭 no reason to be intimidated, I'm just some rando drawing BG3 fan art LOL I've been drawing since I was a child, and started taking it semi-seriously when I was 16 years old, so twelve years ago! That's around the time where I got my first non-display tabled and used that well into my twenties, prior to that I only did stuff on paper and liked to do inks color with pencils. I never really ventured into traditional painting at all except for a little bit of water-coloring in college.

Traditional and Digital art are very much different beasts. Which one you want to start with is, in my opinion, just dependent on what you want to do. Digital art gives you a lot of tools that makes learning easier, but you might find yourself having much steeper of a learning curve if you ever decide to do traditional art instead. If you want to be good at both, you need to practice both, since the skill doesn't entirely translate from one medium to the other.

Naturally you will be able to draw well on either, it's just... Different. I will say though, that I think if you're still learning you should use whatever allows you to look directly at what your hand is doing, so either traditional or display tablet/Ipad. I have no idea what a non-display tablet would do to a beginner, but remembering my experience with it I feel like it might be a huge detriment to developing the skill (feel free to share your experiences in the replies if you disagree, as I would definitely be curious to read them!)

YOU KNOW ME BABY IT WAS MESSY AND COMPLICATED the tldr.: is that they were "buddies", absolutely no romance intended there on either mine or DU drow's part, but due to his nature the friendship was extremely weird.

Here's a couple of replies where I go into more detail about it: https://meanbossart.tumblr.com/post/739191190871818240/i-dont-have-a-particular-question-in-mind-sorry

https://meanbossart.tumblr.com/post/744952815768764416/so-not-sure-if-youve-covered-this-but-i-thought

That's definitely reserved for the vamp LOL DU drow very much enjoys when Astarion teases and fusses over him, and while Astarion probably got a kick out of acting that way around such a big and scary looking guy at first, I think by "now" (later and post-game) he's pretty much immune to DU drow's looks and just enjoys doing it in earnest.

He's not at all averse to being touched (even rather intimately) by close friends, but he wouldn't be quite THAT vulnerable with anyone else.

HE REALLY DISLIKED GALE... He irked him out by seemingly fostering a rather persistent romantic interest in him for at least half the time they spent together (very much based on my interpretation of their in-game interactions at the time, though my Gale might have been a little bugged.)

But also they had a... Fairly in depth relationship still? Gale was a staple in my party, and even though I antagonized him constantly by the end of the game it still felt like they had so much weight in each other's lives, if that makes sense. I might need to do a bit of an "update" on the DU Drow/Gale lore sometime, I feel like I've had some thoughts since that warrant more exploration of their dynamic (you can find a lot of old asks about it if you just search the Gale Dekarios tag in my blog though).

The gist of it is that DU drow found him arrogant and duplicitous, his constant optimist irritated him to no end and felt like it veiled a stream of self-pity (two things DU drow despises) Gale's attempts to get through to him only added insult to injury. By the end of the game he decided to pursue the crown of Karsus and this only lost him even more respect in Drow's eyes, seeing as he doesn't value godly power at all.

I was pretty overwhelmed by the game at the start so I actually missed a lot LOL including Scratch. I did get the owlbear cub though, which DU drow gladly welcomed into camp since it was injured - but I think he would have wished for it to remain a wild animal and to return back to it's home after it had grown up a bit. He didn't really make a "pet" out of it more than he just looked after the little guy in the way it's mother might have, probably with Shadowheart's help.

He wouldn't be opposed to proper pets though if one were to stumble into his life. He'd definitely be more of a cat guy because of their independence and strong little attitudes.

It is very hard to build proper rapport with him. He will be "friendly" to most people who have a good sense of humor about them, but friendSHIP is another thing entirely.

I think it's kind of circumstantial. He's very economical in his relationships and doesn't really seek them out at all - so a situation where he's forced to be in someone's company might be the only way to develop a bond with him, as he doesn't appreciate insistence either and that's more likely to push him away. He doesn't value status or titles either (kind of looks down on them really) so that won't help.

I think he just likes people who are true to themselves and their nature, sometimes even if the nature is one he disagrees with at it's core. This is why he liked Gortash, why he and Shadowheart got along so well, and why him and Astarion fit together so seamlessly despite seeming so different. Likewise I think it's why he didn't jive with people like Gale or Wyll, because they seemed to be rather... Dishonest with themselves and their own end-goals.

[anundyingfidelity]

NO SECOND CHANCES — Brother Day/Cleon XVII

Summary: A lonely space traveler happens to save from a certain death the most annoying person of the entire galaxy, the Emperor.

Pairing: Cleon XVII x female reader.

Word count: 8.1k. (oooops).

Warnings: well, spoilers for whole season 2. Language, angst (the reader wants to die, really). Talks about suicide, talks about suicide attempts, reader having nightmares, PTSD, reader is suffering too. Some hurt/comfort, some fluff? Filthy smut (included but not limited to hand jobs, unprotected sex, oral from both parts, dirty language, etc. etc.), and end of the world sex (to Beki's arsehole bitches yay🥂). Also Cleon refers to the reader as "woman" a couple of times lol. Reader has pierced ears? (wait for it). Bittersweet ending tbh.

Notes: just trying to make slow burn in a one shot because I'm a lazy fucker who doesn't like to write stories with chapters, otherwise I don't finish shit. Uh probably OOC Cleon??? I don't know. Fully inspired by my favorite trope ever: saving the bad guy and making him humble. I don't care we're four people watching Foundation, I need to write about this little piece of shit I love him so much. Cleon XVII is a himbo I said it. Not beta, we die like bitches of the Gossamer court.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

Tagging: @curiouswildi hope you like it 🥺💘

GEN MASTERLIST!

I. BEYOND

The last thing wandering his mind was Bel Riose. Fucking Bel Riose. That idiot. They had won over him; over him, who was Empire and still meant to be for years ahead. Next, the cold feeling of space was embracing him. But he felt he was not floating around anymore.

Cleon was tied to a surface. It felt like harsh, uncomfortable metal under his back. He slowly forced his eyes open, moving his limbs and trying to escape whatever it was restraining him to do so. His wrists and ankles, as his waist, were tied by a light blue particle field preventing the patient to move at all. He was met with the roof of a ship and equipment, but it wasn't any Imperial one. In panic, he moved until he was able to shake the surface he was on, panting and grunting, feeling some pain and sting resurging all over him. The headache was becoming unbearable and the sounds coming from his dry mouth finally transformed into screams. The room doors opened and a strange voice catched his attention.

"Finally, you're awake."

Cleon obliged to follow the shadow moving around, his eyes focusing to try and see who was talking. He heard steps and the sounds of metal and glass clinking around, probably looking for medication and tools as he was know fully concius. The figure finally came to view by his side.

"I will inject this, so don't move," you said, grabbing his bicep. Cleon was about to protest, but the needle was faster and the medicine was welcomed on his vurnerable system, easing the pain and calming down the headache. "Welcome back, Eminence," you smirked to him.

"And just so, who are you?" he asked chuckling to himself, licking his lips. "What have you done to me?"

"First, I saved your life and cleaned all your bloody wounds. You should say thanks at least," you sat down dangerously close by his side, on the same surface he was on.

"I did not ask you for mercy."

"Oh, but I did," you replied, a smirk on your lips. "Perhaps I shouldn't have, right?" you took a small pencil-like device in your hand from the pocket of your pants and used it to scan his vital signs. You touched his face carefully with your fingers, examining his eyes, his heartbeat, and any anomaly that might be on his system from head to toe, but the scanner found none. Cleon watched you doing so until he asked again, his voice softer this time.

"Who are you?"

"Just no one as important as you are," you said, saving the scanner back.

"Where are we?" Cleon asked, looking around. He observed he was placed in a small medical bay.

"In space, in the middle of nowhere I suppose," you shrugged, getting on your feet again. "It seems you're recovering quite well and fast. At least that's what my scanner says. So first, I think you should want some water, which I am leaving right here," you put a flask on the small table next to him. "And before I give you this to drink, I want to make sure you will not restrain or fight back at me."

He laughed, that narcissistic smile on his face. You wanted to punch him.

"You're no match for me, woman."

"Really? Then I could just throw you out there again, you know, it's not difficult. I'm spending resources on you, surely I won't oppose to that idea," you snapped back.

His smile faded slowly, thinking. If it wasn't for you, he would be dead by now, it was true. But he was so used to be immortal and undefeteable that the situation was kind of new. He only had been vulnerable and exposed to his doctors in the palace, and you were a complete stranger. And still, you had the heart to take him in your ship and save his life. He sighed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

"Fuck, fine. What do you want me to do?"

So this was his way of cooperating, you thought.

"After I turn off the restraints, you will have to sit down on the stretcher. I will help you. Do not try to get up yet, you might feel dizzy."

With a nod he said to you the orders were clear. Next, the restraints disappeared in the air with a push on a button and Cleon felt a small relief. As you promised, you helped him to sit and he realized that the clothes he had before were replaced with a set of new pale grey robes that allowed him to move freely. You offered the flask to his lips, but he watched you with a questioning look on his face.

"Is only water, I swear. See?" you had a small sip from the bottle and he looked more at ease after you swallowed the liquid.

You offered the bottle again and helped him to slowly drink. Once he was done, you placed a small tray with fruits and dry seeds on top of the same table beside the stretcher.

"You might want to eat something," you said, breaking the silence under his fixed gaze. Even when he was sitting down and you on your feet it felt rather intimidating. "I'm still collecting supplies and food. You were certainly not part of the plan these days."

"So you travel alone," Cleon said, taking a small red fruit between his fingers and began to eat it.

"I do," you nodded. "Sorry if the taste of the fruit is not pleasant."

"You're doing your best," he said while eating, studying the room around him. You were not sure if he was mocking you or not. "What was your name again?"

You chuckled. "You're very interesting, Empire. Why don't you finish eating and rest before taking a bath?"

The next few hours, you left him to rest and escorted him to your quaters, the only place with a comfortable bed, so he could get proper sleep. Since there were no further questions from him, you got to your business and requested more provisions to the merchants. Traveling alone had made you some contacts and traders, from time to time you would request for food giving in exchange money or rare knick knacks, and within a day you had a small capsule with supplements heading to your coordinates with everything you needed. You just had to wait for now.

After checking the estate of your ship and confirming everything was working correctly, you went back to your quaters to see how the Emperor was doing. You were startled to see him sitting on your bed with a book between his hands. He looked like he just had a bath because his shirt was gone and his hair was wet, some droplets running down his skin. Quickly, you studied him. He was handsome, muscular, his skin had a beautiful tan, and he was tall and heavy as hell, something you noticed when cleaning his wounds and taking him inside your ship. The earring on his left ear was also interesting, you thought, for a member of the most important dinasty of the galaxy. Very rebellious for the emperor.

You also knew he heard you steping in but never looked up from the book because he was the first one to talk.

"Never I could imagine you would have books in here," he said, clearly interested on the pages.

"Yeah, not all of us are barbarians as you work so hard to convice yourself we are."

He chuckled to himself, looking at you for the first time since you entered the room.

"Are you from Korell?"

"The book gave it away, didn't it."

"This is very old," he said, closing the book. "You are for sure not allowed to have this in Korell."

"That is one of the reasons I left," you replied, looking around the place. It was obvious to you that he was pearing within your personal stuff because the old myth book was secured down your mattress. At least he didn't leave a mess and everything seemed in the right place. "I was a threat in my planet so Argo kept looking for me for some conspiracy shit and terrorism when all I did was oppose myself to his repression and freakshow," you continued, his eyes drew back to you. "They wanted me dead in Korell, but I am the only one to decide that, even when and where will it happen."

Cleon shifted on his seat, wondering why you were sharing a piece of your life to him when he didn't even know your name yet. Words and thoughts wandered his head on how would he answer to your words, compassion or empathy sometimes were difficult things to feel. But before he was able to speak, you interrupted his thoughts.

"I will leave you alone to rest for a while and will come back when it's around supper. I follow Kornell cycle of time, so you know... Just don't poke around my underwear, Empire," you dragged his title mockingly.

He laughed softly, going back to his reading.

"Thank you for the idea."

That was the first time you would hear him expressing gratitude.

II. GHOSTS FROM THE PAST

Around more than a week passed, and Cleon was healing and his wounds were not so visible now. You made sure to inject him every day and gave your quaters and bed for him to sleep and recover. He had took a pad you had in the room so he could count the cycle of days in Trantor. Hardly to admit, he found himself missing home rather than hatred. Sometimes the rage mixed with sorrow, but he forced himself to try and understand that it was a normal feeling due to the sudden lose of everything he once had.

Cleon had been up from some time now as he counted the end of the eighth day on the pad, and wondered why your daily visit was taking so long. It was a habit you had, to come in and wake him up with the medicine, and after it was done, you would tell him to eat some of the fruits and food on the tray you brought for him. He got on his feet and put a shirt on before leaving the room to search for you. On the pilot cabin, you had an improvised, small stickable mattress on the wall that had saved your life before, so you used it to sleep and rest the past few days while he cured. Cleon observed your figure lying down on the mattress, walking slowly and sensing something was not right. He found you shaking and trembling, eyes still closed and chest heavily breathing as your hand held onto dear life what he realised it was a gun.

He felt somehow frightened and confused. If you wanted to kill him, you would already have done it. You had made yourself clear on that. The tremor of your body seemed it was increasing and Cleon, with a gentless he did not know he possesed, tried to soothe you with his voice, removing the gun from your embrace.

"Shh... everything is fine," he mumbled, not sure of his words, his other hand touching your shoulder in soft circles. He was able to withdraw the gun from your hands and placed it on the floating shelf near by.

Your eyes squeezed and some tears flowed down your face as you sobbed still in your sleep. Cleon hesitated on what to do next to wake you up. He leaned again, his hand slowly tracing the skin of your arm, like he did when his brother Dawn was a child.

"Woman? Wake up," he whispered, shaking you a little bit and pating your arm softly, and when he talked again, his voice was a little bit louder. "You're having a nightmare, wake up."

And as he repeated his words over and over, your eyes opened wide, feeling your lungs able to breath again. But your senses still were coming to awareness, and automatically you slapped the face of whoever it was touching your arm. You heard him groan in pain and you rolled over the mattres, until you hit the floor, taking out a small blade from below the makeshift pillow of fabrics you used. The blade pointing at him as you looked around the cabin to find out it was only both of you.

"What- are you okay?!" Cleon questioned with a frown, rubbing his hurting cheek as he remained on the other side of your bed, the only thing separating you from him was the mattress.

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine!"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Of course you are not."

"Then why the fuck would you ask that?! It's obvious I'm not fine!" you yelled. Your body was tense and ready to attack. You felt a knot on your throat, like if you were to cry again. Silence envolved you, trying to calm down. That inner voice in your head began saying it was just a dream, and you wanted to believe it. It was all in your head. It was not real...

"Do you want to kill me?" Cleon's gloomy voice echoed.

"What? No! I would never-"

"Then why are you sleeping with a damn blaster shot and a blade on your bed?!" he confronted, screaming at you, but not daring to move as you also remained standing in the same place.

"Because I wanted to kill myself!" you yelled back, pointing the sharp of the knife to you instead. His face became stern and you realised what you had said, and what was happening. Ashamed, you threw the blade back under the pillow. "Sorry, I don't want you to know that. Forget it."

You wiped the tears on your face under his piercing and concerning eyes. You forced your head to compose and burry your nightmares and memories deep inside before talking.

"I have to inject you," you said and walked back to the room, sure he would follow behind. Once you crossed the doors, you prepared the needle but Cleon remained standing near the exit of your room the whole time, arms crossed over his chest, observing you with utter worry on his face. Why? He really did not know. Probably because you were the only human and intelligent contact he had for days now, and you had the decency to keep him alive. Though he was not going to let that in his head - yet.

"Why don't you seat?" you most likely ordered. Cleon slowly made his way to you and remained standing, tall and kind of threatening. He was Emperor, after all.

"What is wrong with you?" he asked with a careful tone.

"Nothing, Empire. Just sit," you said, coldly, waiting for him to do as you requested.

"No, I need to know," he demanded, coming closer to you, jaw clenching. Anger started taking over your being and held his gaze as you replied.

"I have the right to decide whether or not speak about my personal life, I am not one of your subjects, so sit the fuck down so I can give you the last dosis of this shit."

"I need to know if I can fucking trust you after what I just heard coming from your mouth," his voice boomed around the place.

"You really want to know?! Fine, back in Korell I lost my family, my brother, my parents, my home - everything I had they took it from me! I was the last one alive and I escaped after they killed my brother in front of me and that day is still haunting me," you muttered and felt the tears forming on your eyes, but this time, of rage. "So if it concerns your own well being, like it always has been, no, I will not kill you. But you are no Emperor here, so stop that game. Some of us never gave a fuck about you or the Empire, or the Foundation and Hari Seldon, or the Church of the Galactic Spirit -I don't care! I'm tired, I just want to be free and live peacefully!"

You had not noticed you stepped closer to him, feeling the heat radiating from his body. His face was blank, as if he had been slapped again, but this time to reality. A reality he was not familiar with on his own bubble.

Quickly you grabbed his bicep and injected the dosis with him standing up. He whined in surprise. It was fast. So fast that you just removed the needle from his flesh and left the room.

III. WHAT YOU REALLY KNOW

According to the Trantor cycle, evening should be now. When you left him alone in the room, Cleon spent the next hours by himself, and since he watched you looking up for garments and food around the ship before, he made sure to get those without speaking to you. Not that you wanted to talk either. He noticed you sitting on the main pilot seat, looking at the stars and the void through the glass the whole day. He got concerned for a moment, but decided to let you be as he, also, understood that some time alone was necessary.

However, Cleon thought to talk to you finally and say something. Anything to get you back to reality and forget your bad dreams. So he found himself making his way to sit on the other chair of the ship. He prepared the words to say inside his head, but it was more difficult to speak out loud.

"I think I owe you an apology," he finally said, taking in the view of space. You nodded slowly your head. Nobody turned to see each other.

"It's nothing. But apology accepted I guess."

"It's not nothing. I rarely thought about what other citizens and planets are going through... I'm so sorry it happened to you."

"I would like to say that was not your fault, but since the Empire withdrawal from Korell, living there definitely became so much worse," you confessed, very aware of the genetic dinasty and some of the things previous emperors did, which did not change much. They were the same man after all. Cloning again and again...

"Probably should apologise for that as well," he said.

"Yeah, it's too late, but thank you."

Cleon could still sense a feeling of resentment in your voice. He thought you were right to feel that way, but he was also going to try and make you understand him.

"I never had a mother, or a father, and my brothers are the same man as me, so it's hard to understand that some people lose their family and loved ones. I was born with that loss already... That's why I wanted to end the genetic dinasty."

"You are the eighteenth?" you asked, not knowing exactly why he was opening to you.

"The seventeenth."

"That's a lot of you though. Do you remember anything from the past?"

"I do not. But our memories are always saved. Everything that happens in Trantor is recorded and kept as data. If I want to know something about a previous Cleon, I would just request it."

You turned your gaze to finally see him, he looked in awe with space as he spoke.

"So what was your motive to destroy a planet?"

He turned his eyes to you. "I believe you didn't care about Empire or the Foundation."

"That doesn't mean I want to see a genocide, your Eminence."

Cleon stirred on his seat, with a strange feeling of guilt, sadness and regret. For some reason, the title falling off your lips made everything worse.

"You saw it," he said. "How? You're no part of the Foundation, at least you're lying to me."

"No, I am not! I did a stupid space jump without course and I ended here, unfortunately." You were growing tired of the conversation. "I don't know why we keep talking. We're both shitty people anyway."

Cleon chuckled, not to mock you, but because of the whole situation you were in together.

"I know you are. Brave enough to kill yourself, taking another life is nothing compared to your own."

You locked your gaze with his, thinking if he was he judging you or flattering you.

"And have you, like, tried to end with your life at some point? You must feel lonely, under the shadow of a clone, not allowing you to be, well, you."

He let out a deep breath, avoiding your eyes.

"I have not, but my genes are already compromised and adultered. No surprise if any of us dared to commit suicide before," he replied, looking to the void. "In any case, if something out of the ordinary is to happen to my brothers or myself, we have another clone with our same memories, same age, everything; prepared to be woken up and take our place. Like if we never existed."

"That's fucked up," you scoffed. "We are never trully free, are we."

You got on your feet to look up for something to eat and forget your small talk. You knew he had searched for fruits and dry food because you heard him moving around and then leaving a couple of times, but you had nothing through the whole day. Cleon followed your steps, leaving enough space between you both as you took a couple of apples, giving one to him.

"The jump, how did you do that?" he asked, taking a bite of the fruit. "You don't have spacers."

"The rebels are smart people. A lot of members of the Foundation replicated your technology."

"I thought you were not involved with them," he insisted.

"I am not, but I would never deny any help. That my support doesn't rely on them doesn't mean I will let a chance slide."

"You're not answering my question."

You pulled the sleeve of your shirt up to show your bare wrist to him. There was the same device Hober Mallow and the Clerics had, inserted on your skin.

"I use this.”

"This is a whisper ship," he mumbled.

"Smart. Yes, sort of."

Cleon scoffed. "So that means we can land somewhere."

"About that, uh, we can't."

He moved to throw the remainings of his fruit with a confused look. "Why?"

He heard your sigh as you covered your wrist again, looking away from his deep eyes.

"I- I threw myself to space because I wanted to kill myself," you started, avoiding his gaze. "I didn't care how long would take me, I just wanted to blow up my ship. Just end everything. But then I saw you, floating, dying... and for some reason I couldn't let you die. I didn't know who you were but I saved you. There's no energy or fuel to make another jump. I don't have that. We are far from what Terminus was now. From any planet, form of life or civilization... plus you are unarmed. You still are weak and anyone could kill you," you finished, and waiting for some reason that he could forgive you for giving him any sort of hope. "I'm sorry, Empire."

Beyond madness, Cleon felt you were worried for him. Not the kind of sentiment his brothers or palace workers would do, but a real one. Because you knew saving him was condemn him to death anyway. But this felt much better than dying alone. He had sins, past despiteful decisions and ghosts hunting him, as so were you. You just addressed your feelings and your life together in less than a day. And you were right, none of you were never trully free, but as crazy as it might be, being lost in space with you felt like freedom to him. Finally, he was far away from everything that was keeping chained to a life and responsibilities he never asked for, living under the shadow of an egotistical emperor.

There was a strong impulse growing inside him and before his rational voice began to scream it was a bad idea to continue, he had cupped your cheeks between his hands and his lips pressing hungrily against yours. You whined, surprised of the warm feeling of his mouth, his tongue hurriedly asking for permission to taste you. When oxygen was not enough you pulled away, shocked and panting. You barely noticed your hand around his forearm, recovering yourself from the best kiss you had in some time.

"Cleon," he whispered, kissing your lips one more time.

"What?"

"Just call me Cleon. I'm not Empire anymore."

You kissed him in response with the same eagerness he had before, heart beating strongly in your chest. His hands caressed every inch of your body, from your neck, breasts, your hips, your soft thighs, your ass... he touched you with desperate fire while you moaned against his mouth, liking where was this leading you, more than you wanted to admit.

That was the first time you gave in to him completely.

IV. TO LOVE AND TO BE LOVED

You moaned against his lips, those that forcefuly broke the heated kiss you shared as he ruts into you desperately to reach his own climax. His flesh hitting against yours made an obscene harmony that echoed the confines the ship, far from civil and coherent noises fell from his lips as he sucked into the skin of your neck.

"Fuck, yes, right there," a broken whimper escaped your throat, your nails scratching his back, your walls clenching around his cock. "Cleon..."

The sound of his name being moaned by your sweet, raspy voice, caused him to slow down his thrusts just a bit.

"I still don't know your name," he whispered, bitting your bottom lip only to kiss you wet again.

"And yet you're fucking me, isn't that enough?" you teased, rolling your hips to meet his own.

He gave you a smirk, that fucking handsome smirk you hated so much. He took you with his strong arms, flipping you around so he was now on his back and you got control on top of him. You sinked down his dick setting a reckless rhythm, his thrusts matching yours every time you went down, his grip hard on your waist, marking and bruising your skin. One of his hands massaged your bouncing breasts, one after the other, pinching and then, you felt his mouth biting your nipples and chest, as he leaned your body to him for easy access, with slow grunts and groans that didn't sound human anymore.

His cock repeatedly hit that sweet spot from the position you were taking him, increasing the tension inside you. The sensation of his hands coming back to your sides and making its way to your ass cheeks to guide your bouncing hips became too much so soon. You cried as you felt drunk and high, muscles tense as you finally came. Cleon held you tight, fucking into you as you reached sweet release. His tongue traveled down your collarbone and breasts.

"Cleon," you moaned, your hands on his chest to support your body better. You felt him twitch inside you, knowing he was dangerously close too. Quickly, you slid off him, taking his girth, slick with your own wetness, between your hand you pumped him hard, easing his own release. His seed coated your palm, sprinkling on his abdomen.

"Shit, you're great," he praised, voice dark from lust. His fingers tangled into your hair, his forehead against yours as you recovered from the intense sex session you had for the second time that day. He kissed you sweetly, like a sweetness he only had discovered in the short time with you. "I wish I could know your name."

"You can call me your savior," you gave him a playful smile.

After a shared lazy kiss, you got on your feet, legs still shaking, and left the bed to clean yourself in the small place you called bathroom right next to the only room of the ship. Once finished, you threw the cloth away, and looked directly the mirror, or poor attempt of it. In the damp glass, you watched Cleon appear to embrace your body against his, your back touching his chest muscles and his hands roamed your abdomen while he left butterfly kisses on your shoulder. His big arms around you, pressing your figure to his own, huge in comparison entrusting protection.

The nineteenth day it was, and you spent it exploring your pleassures, talking nonsense and overall for Cleon, thinking he might love you. The confinement had flourished different kinds of feelings and sentiments inside his heart. He finally learned to feel something else besides hatred, power, or selfishness. The more you spoke to him, the more he grew to like you. You were far from perfect and so was he, and the way you opened your heart to him - the man who was to wed a powerful queen, govern thrillions of people around the galaxy and kill a few others - caused him to feel unworthy of anything coming from you. The man he grew up to be slowly disappeared as long as you had him under your light and spirit; his old self was fading away. And it scared him, but excited him at the same time. Even when he was very aware you were near the end together, he had nothing to ask for but to perish with you.

"What's in your head?" you whispered.

Cleon had no longer been tasting the skin of your neck, his chin pressed on your shoulder instead with his mind running a million thoughts by now. He took a glance at the damp and dirty mirror of how perfect you looked, bare and exposed in body and soul, only for his eyes to witness the true beauty of being alive. Of being human.

"You."

A loving smile curled up on your lips, looking directly into his enamoured gaze through the mirror. He decided he wanted to remember you like this in the afterlife.

You finished marking the last spot with an 'x', a wide grin over your face.

"I won."

"Yet again," Cleon chuckled. His laugh had grew sincere with you as he settled on the floor on the cold floor of the pilot cabin, just giving enough space for the board between you and him. "And what is your question, person-I-not-know-the-name-of?"

You just had finished playing another round of a silly game. It was an old Terran game, and you were surprised it made it this far across the galaxy. It was good to pass the time though. It kept you and Cleon thinking about other things besides dying. The fuel and energy, along with the water, were lowering on their levels. Food on the other hand was not a worry, you knew you could request to the traders as long as energy was functioning to make communication with them. However, the energy of your ship had to be loaded in land, just like fuel. And you had no place to go now to do that.

Being together as long as you had the resources was the main goal now. So many things crossed your mind as you talked about everything and nothing at the same time the past days.

"Have you ever been in love?" you asked after some time thinking.

You thought maybe it was the first time in Cleon's life that he was finally able to think and behave on his own, with no burdens about a dinasty to protect or pleasing his council.

He was taken by surprise as you spoke. He immediately remembered Demerzel, his loyal advisor. His relationship was merely sexual, but there were no feelings that would assimilate to what love is in reality. For sure, his own clone should have been woken up by now with no further consequences. For Cleon, it felt like he was actually erased from existence forever. He was disposable, just like his brothers. But thinking about your question, his answer was no. He never knew what love was. Not from Demerzel, certainly not from Dusk, Dawn was slightly different though, he did love Dawn but not the way you were referring to. He never knew the love from a mother or a father, nor family. Sareth hated him, so even if they got to marry he knew there would be no space for such sentiment. His own future children with the Queen of Cloud Dominion would have grown up without an essential part of being human.

"No," Cleon finally gave an answer, his gaze went soft as he realised what you just became to him in a matter of days. "However I sense something different when I am with you. And I don't recall to know what that is."

You smiled. "Isolation tends to create adjustments in those who suffer it."

"And have you?" Cleon asked back. "Have you ever felt it before?"

"I did... With my parents, my brother, my best friends, and a couple of assholes who broke my heart."

He chuckled, admiring the charm you had to brush off the hardships in your life. You smiled back at him. Gods you loved seeing him like this, like if he was happy and nothing had happened.

"And how is it?" he said.

"It's affection, it's addictive, not everyone can escape from it. You feel like you belong somewhere, that your life is strangely complete," you mumbled, locking your gaze with his own. "And it hurts a lot. But as you go through that path, you get to know the most beautiful kind of pain."

"Does it hurt now?"

You swallowed hard, that familiar knot on your throat. You were not expecting to feel this way. Not for the Emperor, not for the clone, not for Cleon. Yet one does not control love. You don't decide to love someone without a reason. And what else could two lost souls do in the middle of the galaxy with no purpose but to wait and die? You had opened your deepest fears and secrets to him, not expecting Cleon doing exactly the same. He trusted you and you trusted him. You slept in the same bed, ate the same food and fruits, fucked like animals everyday and yet there was an emotional connection in between you thought would never know again after so many years. How could you not fall for him when everything was crumbling? Finally, you nodded your head, feeling the tears burning in your eyes.

"I always have been alone, Cleon, but my soul seems to have a little love to give. In the end, love is what makes us human."

Cleon put the board of the game away and leaned closer to you, his hand caressed your cheek, cleaning the tears falling down your face as he pressed his forehead with yours. He kissed you softly, swallowing your pain, as a way to say he was hurting too.

V. VOYAGE

It was the thirtieth day on the ship.

Your last try to get and land in any planet failed. As much as Cleon told you to stop, that everything was fine, you felt you had to keep trying until your last day. But the ship was basically to zero fuel and soon energy will follow. You used the control panel of the ship, hopefuly to find a near by land, but luck was not on your side. There was nothing. You don't know exactly how many miles you traveled with no course for a month. It was getting beyond bearing.

Frustrated, you pulled away the holo of the map and the calculations you did in the air, throwing a lose screw of your seat directly to the glass. It did nothing, but you were starting to hate the view of the stars and nothingness sorrounding.

"I told you to stop that," you listened to Cleon, who seemed just arrived to the pilot cabin.

"I had to try," you stood up, walking towards him. Your arms embraced his waist and he took you in with the same warmth.

"You're worried."

"I am not," you whined. "I should have sent for help with the merchants."

Cleon broke your hug and cupped your face between his hands, leaning closer to you.

"No, we should end this now," he whispered, his brows furrowed.

"No!"

"Why not? You wanted to do it even before you found me."

"Because now ending me is ending you too!"

Cleon felt your pain, but there was no other option to make than to blow up the ship anyway. Even if you were to land somewhere, what was for him? You were not able to go back home, and Cleon was discarded at this point. The throne could not have two of the same in the middle. Hiding and running away sounded like a good choice, but still, where? There was nothing left, but he found comfort with you.

"I am okay with this," he said. "I told you. You have to do it."

"Cleon-" you plea was cut by his voice.

"How much time do we have?"

"I don't know, a couple of days at last."

"Then do it. You said you were to decide when and how you would die, this is the time," he remembered with a stern voice. "Take it."

You let out a shaky breath and pushed him to press your lips to his own, like saying goodbye. But you still would not accept this fate. Not like this. You kissed him with hunger and need, your tongues tangled up as your mouths danced together.

"I just have- I can't yet," you mumbled once the kiss was over, leaving you both seeking for air. "Can we just fuck each others brains again and pretend none of this happened for a moment?" you asked against his lips, your hand now on his cheek, caressing the stubble on his face. You always remembered to help him shave and that was one of the most normal things you had to do since you found yourself confined with him. The most casual and mundane things to do became

He nodded. "Yes, my love.”

Cleon kissed your lips with the same hunger and desire, his hands caressing every inch of you until he lifted you up, your legs quickly went around his waist. With eyes closed, you let him guide you to the bar fixed against the wall of your ship.

He made sure to throw everything that was on the surface to the ground to place you in there. Once you were sitting, he pulled your legs apart to stand in the middle of them, and full with lust, his lips and teeth marked your neck and collarbone. You moaned sweetly, palming his groin still covered with the fabric of his pants. He traveled down your breasts, kissing over your shirt until he took it off. He was lucky you decided not to wear bra anymore. He sucked on your tits and nipples, grinding his hips against your hand.

You tried to pull his pants away, but he finished the job first, pulling away from your chest. After his pants were discarded, his shirt followed. He also got used to no underwear so he stood exposed all for you. A true god he was, looking perfect and like if every inch of his body was created for you to worship completely.

Cleon hurried in getting you out of your clothes, and in minutes you were naked and feeling his tongue dancing on your belly. His fingers and massive hands teasing your thighs, avoiding the place where you needed them the most. You moaned when he finally used a single digit to rub your slit, collecting your wetness. He rubbed your clit, mouth going slow and dangerously close to your pussy.

You laid your back on the bar and Cleon grabbed your thighs to have you exactly at the edge of the surface, ready to eat from your heat.

"Cleon," you cried out his name, your fingers tangled on his hair as his tongue licked your most sensitive parts.

He kept your hips in place, fucking you with his tongue and licking your folds, going to your clit. You couldn't help but whimper and moan, removing his hair to see just how much he yearned your cunt.

You tried to roll your hips but his grip was too strong. He looked up to lock his dark gaze with you, his humming creating strong vibrations down your core. He played some more, using a finger to tease your entrance. You were about to cum just by watching him.

"Cleon, please-" you gasped when he inserted a finger inside you, thrusting slowly. "Please, I want to taste you too."

He stopped, looking your flushed face for a moment. Your eyes were begging to suck him right now. He released your pussy with an obscene sound, pulling his tongue and hand away, but your wetness still shined on him. You got on the ground with his help and started to kneel down, kissing his skin, from his chest and then abdomen, licking and biting to leave your marks on his sculptured muscles. You made sure to adore and suck the skin of his navel, knowing he was insecure with not having a belly button. Still without it, he was more human than he could ever get to accept because you have seen that on him.

Cleon grunted once your hand wrapped around him, his hand on your scalp. You gave him a far from innocent look from your position before licking the head, rolling your tongue around it, lubing it with your saliva. His desperate groans led you to wrap your lips around him, pumping with your hand what you couldn't reach with your throat yet. You had to learn he was big for you, so a little of warm up for your mouth was a good start.

He cursed under his breath, thrusting his hips a little to go further, slowly, and you welcomed his cock with a small gag once he reached the back of your throat. He moaned darkly, your rubbed your thighs together when he started to fuck your mouth. Both his hands taking the sides of your head as you choked and gagged around his lenght. You felt him throbbing but he quickly pulled out, and left you empty and with drool falling from your lips, your pussy now aching and clenching around nothing.

"So beautiful," he purred, the touch on your scalp soft now. "But I want to finish inside you."

You nodded, obedient. Cleon helped you to sit down on the bar again, he stayed between your legs, spreading them wide, you held onto him, arms around his neck. He entered slowly, the warmth of your walls swallowing his cock, inch by inch, until it disappeared completely inside your dripping cunt.

You shivered, broken moans falling from your lips. Cleon muffled your low cries with kisses, waiting for you to get used to him.

"Fuck me, Cleon," you mumbled against his swollen lips.

He complied happily, thrusting and pounding into your heat, with a frenetic and brutal pace you had learn to love. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, yor nails scratching his arms and back. His cock touched all the right places inside you and he whispered sweet nothings into your skin, fucking you right under the light of the stars and the void of space.

He moaned along with you, wishing heaven or whatever it was after felt exactly like this. Like you, with your arms around him, your sweet voice calling his name lovingly and whimpering for more, giving your soul to him and only him. Your walls started to clench and his hips stuttered, aproaching a craving release. But in between, he heard a word against his ear you never mumbled before, turning his lustful eyes to you and slowing down his thrusts.

You repeated it again, he was visibly confused but kept ruting into you.

"My name," you said, fingers now caressing his hair.

He smiled. He knew it now. The stranger who saved him had a name after all. Cleon kissed you fiercely, repeating your name again and again between wet kisses. You were close to release, feeling one of his digits rubbing your clit as you moaned together. The wave of electricity took your body first, clenching your pussy around his cock. Cleon followed soon after, rhythm slow and tense muscles, until he spilled inside you, coating your sensitive cunt with his seed.

Catching your breath, you remained together. He sucked on your neck softly, your name was the only thought inside his mind. And as much as you loved his touch on you, you remembered there was something to do still.

"Cleon," you called, getting his attention and feeling he was pulling out of you with a low groan. He looked at you with loving eyes and you smiled. You brushed his hair with your fingers pulling him to yet another smooth kiss. "It's time."

He knew it was. In silence his fingers found his earring, twitsting it and pulling it apart. He took it from his ear and placed it on yours carefully. You were always amazed at his touch, how rough and yet soft and gentle he could be.

"So you can remember me," he smiled when he was over. You let out a laugh and curved your llps in a grin. "It suits you."

"Thanks, Cleon."

Cleon leaned down to kiss you one more time before cleaning both of you. You dressed together as if you were not about to meet finally death. For some reason, you saved everything that was not on their cabinets or initial positions, packing all you could, like if you could take those belongings with you, most of which were from your family. One day Cleon asked why you had clothes that could meet his height, being taller than a lot of people around. You told him it was from your best friend. You thought every piece of clothes or souvenirs would help someday, but it never crossed your mind that it was going to be this way.

When everything was was done, you and Cleon settled in front of the control panel, however, before you could start the holo, a loud explosion could be heard. You frowned, turning to Cleon.

"Did you-? Ah!"

The ship almost overturned as something heavy hit the side, making you trip and fall over with Cleon on the ground. Again, an explosion was heard, far from the ship but clear enough to say it was getting closer, and seconds later, the ship got hit but this time on the glass, almost breaking it over. Quickly, you both stood up and saw what was happening.

"A black hole..."

"Look, there are debris around," you pointed a huge piece that looked the size of your ship, but that definitely was part of a much bigger one. You saw the debris and metal being swallowed and destroyed by the black hole. It wasn't pacing fast, but wasn't slow either. It looked like it was talking its time for much bigger things to eat, such as your ship. Cleon called you, taking your hands and pressing his forehead to yours. You could feel he was shaking, and your skin grew cold. You realised it was really happening now.

"Do it," he said. "Destroy the ship."

After a moment of hesitation, you gave a nod. He kissed you deeply again. You turned the holo to activate the ship and program its own destruction.

"Self-destruction mechanism activated," the computer confirmed.

"We have sixty seconds," you mumbled, tears already forming in your eyes. He cut you off with a kiss. You would miss those warm lips on yours.

"That's enough for me," he said. You smiled and he did the same.

"I love you, Cleon," you embraced his body with a hug. "I am happy I met this kind of pain with you."

He cupped your cheeks, pecking your lips, smiling down at you, saying I love you too. You, the one who saved him and gave him a second chance. Or at least a moment of relief. A place and a person who allowed him to be himself and find things he never knew would have.

"We have more in common now," he whispered. "We are both alone and hurting somewhere in the galaxy.”

[junvibing]

Artfully Yours

pairing: art major renjun! x fem!reader; youtuber!renjun

warnings: lots of art and ramen, renjun is very much in love, college

summary: Renjun wants to get you something special for your birthday. He has two problems though: 1. there's not much time left, 2. he's a perfectionist. But hey, at least Chenle gave him the perfect idea. Now, he only has to finish in time and hope you'll love it.

wc: 12.5k

a/n: I've been working on this on and off for around a year lol. Anyways I really like it and I hope you do too! Leave me feedback haha this is my first long fanfic and honestly it's special to me :') <3

song recommendation: Like we just met - nct dream

credit for art inspo: matlagesilke3 on pinterest

The second Renjun got home, he prepared to spend the rest of the day working on a drawing. Since it's due for tomorrow's Drawing II class, he really needs to put his energy into finishing it today. His art projects are often accompanied with him staying up into the nights to perfect them. Sometimes while painting his thoughts drift away and he starts thinking about other things. This tendency surely adds to him staying up late but for today he hopes he’ll be able to finish before midnight. That’s why Renjun starts gathering his materials quickly before sitting down at his desk. His room is a little messy but college is stressful and an art major is no exception. Especially since he is somewhat of a perfectionist but he couldn’t imagine studying anything else other than art. For as long as Renjun can remember, he was always interested in it. The way colors dance on the paper, the way they blend into each other or how he can create anything he wants and get lost in the process - he just loves it. One of his favorite things is to try out different art mediums and see how they work, how comfortable he could get with them and if he’ll resort back to them in the future. Over the years, he discovered that he loves painting with oil paints and watercolors the most as they bring him great joy and the best results. Both mediums can be tricky at the beginning and it wasn’t much different for him when he started out but proper practice helped a lot. However, Renjun also enjoys drawing on his tablet, which is especially useful if he wants to post his work online. 

In his opinion, art is meant to be shared and what better way is there to reach lots of people than sharing it online? That's why he had started to post his art on Twitter when he was still in middle school. Whenever someone retweeted his art, he felt so elated, it pushed him to continue sharing his work. In high school he even started exploring with posting videos on YouTube, all related to art of course. Jisung, his classmate and one of his best friends, had encouraged him to just go for it and soon enough his other friends had joined in. Thinking back to his very first YouTube video, Renjun lets out a chuckle. Dang, I was so nervous. Shaking his head, he continues sketching. The thing is he never used to show his face on Twitter, it was all about his art and creativity but with the encouraging words of Jisung and his other friends, he dared to show his face on YouTube, alongside his art of course. The first video Renjun ever posted was of him drawing Moomin fan art. Over the years, his channel actually gained quite a bit of attraction and while in high school, he would often daydream about making money with his artwork even though he knew his parents wouldn’t really support him in pursuing such a career. As far as Renjun knew, his parents wanted him to get a “real” career. But he spent most of his free time either with his friends or sketching, drawing and painting. 

I still do that. Renjun sits at his desk, room dimly lit and pencil in his right hand. But y/n’s in the picture as well now. He grew up with art and it accompanied him throughout his ups and downs. He loves being creative, that’s why he had decided to go through with applying for a fine arts major when the time came around. However, his parent’s opinion and support was important to him. So at the time, he had a serious talk with them. Renjun knew they only had his best interest at heart. Naturally, they want him to be successful in life and it’s important to his parents that their only child has a good and comfortable life. They imagined for him to pursue a high paying, high status job like being a lawyer. His parents couldn’t picture how studying art would provide him with something like that. To them, pursuing an art career was too unstable, too risky. But Renjun managed to show them different ways in how he actually could be successful with it. He would do internships, could go into graphic design, could become an illustrator or go as far as to become an art instructor. There are different paths he would be able to take that would pay him well and hearing that eventually convinced his parents. Of course, Renjun had been overjoyed about that. He still is actually. All his life, art was one of the things that brought him the most happiness and his parents supported him in pursuing it as a career. What else could he wish for?

Turns out, there really was something else he could have wished for. He only knew it after you entered his life though. Renjun occasionally thinks back to how you two met. Out of nowhere, his mind sometimes drifts to the first time he saw you. Just like right now. The window in his room lets little light shine through, the sun is almost fully set at this point and the only other light source is the lamp on his desk, illuminating a bottle of milk and a few pieces of fruit. Renjun’s project for tomorrow is a still life, an art depiction of inanimate objects. It is pretty normal for him to drift off when he was monotonously sketching away, which is exactly what he is doing right now. His pen glides easily on the paper in front of him while he thinks back to his second semester. Renjun never really used to be a person who obsessed over relationships. His mind was filled with other things like ideas for art videos. In fact, he actually used to be the type who didn’t believe in love at first sight, which Jaemin thought was crazy by the way. But you kinda proved Renjun wrong. 

He still remembers the day clearly. It was fall and Mark invited you to come hang out with the boys. The dreamies, as Haechan likes to call their friend group, were still great friends even if they didn’t see each other everyday like they did back in high school. Mark actually mentioned your name before, it wasn’t your first time hanging out with the boys either but the few times you were with them, Renjun couldn’t make it, so he only officially met you in his second semester. Crazy, almost two and a half years ago. He can still remember exactly how he reacted to seeing you for the first time. The second Renjun’s eyes landed on you, the things and people around him somehow were moving in slow motion. To say he was intrigued by you would’ve been an understatement. You looked so mesmerizing, smiling at whatever Jisung was saying while the evening sun hit your face in the most beautiful way. Renjun felt like he was looking at the prettiest painting he ever laid his eyes on. All the beautiful, intricate art he saw over the years didn't compare to you and he immediately wanted to introduce himself. From that day onwards you joined his dear collection of things he loves to draw the most. 

It actually didn’t take long for Renjun to ask you out as there was no way he would be able to let you slip through his fingers. Over the years, your relationship has been going strong. Just like art you've become a constant in Renjun’s life that he wishes to never lose. With time, he even introduced you on his YouTube channel. It took a little convincing but after a while you were able to put your shyness away and join him in a vlog. Renjun smiles, thinking back to your first video together. Back then, he had decided to participate in the challenge of drawing under a blue light and you tagged along in his vlog at the beginning. It was fun for both of you and Renjun’s subscribers enjoyed seeing you guys together. The comments were flooded with how cute the two of you were and requests for you to join him more on his channel. But for today, Renjun's plans don’t include any art challenge. It’s time to finish this still life. He needs the day tomorrow for something else, something more important. 

The next day, with a fresh mind and his still life finished, Renjun prepares for a different project. There is still a bit of time left before he needs to get to class, so he wants to use it to start before it's time to turn in his still life. Renjun has something special planned for you. Your birthday is just around the corner and he had been unsure on what to get you. Last year he got you a beautiful necklace with a butterfly charm. “To show you my appreciation” is what he had said when putting it on you. Renjun never wanted to stop feeling warm and fuzzy inside when he was with you. For this year’s gift, he was thinking about decor for your dorm room since you moved recently. Yet for some reason, whenever he was strolling through stores, keeping an eye out for a suitable gift, he felt like nothing fit perfectly. You don’t really need a new rug or pillows. Your room is already decorated with various plants. Just getting you a few scented candles like Mark suggested was too plain. Getting a mug was out of the question as it’s not special enough for you. Not to mention a mug technically isn’t decor. Although it could be. However, Renjun wanted to get you something special, something that shows he put thought into it and when speaking to Chenle about it the other day, he suggested the perfect idea: painting you a picture. 

Naturally, Renjun drew small pictures for you over the course of your relationship and you cherished every single one of it but he never created a proper painting for you. Almost outrageous, how come he never did that for his girlfriend? Even Jeno did it at some point for his girlfriend. Or tried at least. Nevertheless, she loved it and Renjun still remembers your reaction actually. You and her go way back, having met during middle school. Naturally, you only ever wished the best for your best friend. So of course, seeing her that happy about Jeno’s gift, had put a smile on your face. You even laughed a little, seeing her show it off to the others. Thinking back, that should’ve been Renjun’s first clue to paint you something for your birthday. But at least he came around now, even if it is a little overdue. As soon as he had decided to paint you something to put on your wall, he had brainstormed for ideas. His still life project got in the way so he couldn’t start earlier but today is finally the day he can turn his draft for your gift into the beginnings of a painting. Last week, Renjun sat down and thought about what he wanted to paint for you and since the painting is supposed to fit your room well, he had decided to go with an enchanted forest. He feels like it would complement the various plants in your room nicely. A dark forest with colorful sparks throughout would be the perfect eye catcher for your plain white dorm wall. He had decided to draw two particular trees to accentuate the centerpiece of his painting: a magical path that’s curving to the right. Renjun feels very confident about the idea, so much so that he had decided to film a YouTube video around it: “Painting for my gf’s birthday”, where he documents the process of his painting and captures your reaction to the present. 

That’s why he sits in his chair right now, camera on his desk and films himself. His subscribers will surely enjoy seeing this. “Hi painters, so my girlfriend’s bday is just around the corner and I’ve been struggling quite a bit with finding a gift. I can’t just get her an ordinary gift, you know me. So I was thinking and searching and man almost gave up but my friend literally saved the day.“ Renjun salutes to the camera. “谢了, 哥们.“ ”So anyway, I decided to go with his idea of painting for her, hence this video. I was brainstorming in advance and already did a vague sketch of my idea.“ Renjun holds his sketchbook into the camera so his viewers can see the enchanted forest. “You can see it’s supposed to be a forest. I wanna add different colored sparks to it and make the path here a blueish white to give it a fairy, enchanted type of feel.” Renjun traced the path with his finger and then mentioned two particular trees. “The big trees in the front that bend over and form a heart accentuate the magical path nicely. I also added a little pond. I really like it and I think y/n will like it as well.” Renjun adjusts the camera to show his canvas and him. For the next thirty minutes, he hunches over his desk, sketching his draft carefully onto the canvas. Since this is supposed to be the centerpiece of your wall, Renjun bought a big canvas last week. It is supposed to be an eye-catcher after all. As the time passes and he finishes sketching, he stands up to look at his work. “Okay that’s good enough.” Renjun looks into the camera. “I’ll stop for now cause I have class in about forty minutes. But I’ll see you later tonight when I continue. Y/n’s bday is literally in 9 days and you know how it goes with oil paints, long drying times. So I need it to be done one day before her bday, meaning there’s no time to slack off.” Renjun takes the camera into his hand and smiles before moving his hand in front of the lens. “Only the best for my babe.” 

Hours later, Renjun is setting up his camera again. After his last class for today, art history, he got some lunch with the boys in the dining hall. Mark and Haechan had class though, so the group wasn’t complete. The boys catched up a little but Renjun didn’t want to spend too much time eating. There was still a project awaiting him at home after all. That’s why he only had a small chicken salad. Jaemin talked about how his professor has been kicking his butt with reading assignments for class and to be fair, Renjun could understand. There was just something unpleasant about having to read two 15 page papers about the causes and consequences of the French revolution. But Jaemin chose to major in history education. Although Renjun knows it’s not Jaemin's fault for having an unpleasant professor. Chenle, however, hadn’t been that interested in his friend’s distress. “Glad I don’t have to deal with that”, is what he had said. “Yeah, you need to deal with statistical models dude, gross” Jaemin really doesn’t like math. But, the boys were all able to agree that college workload is a lot, whether one studies education or economics. “Chill guys”, Jeno had taken a bite of his pizza slice, “Jun, how’s it going with y/n’s gift?” Well, Renjun still has lots to do, which is why he had used that opportunity to briefly explain his progress and bid his friends goodbye to go straight to his dorm.

“I’m back, people. I turned in a project and I had art history today which wasn’t so great. It has the touch of being boring sometimes but it’s okay, let‘s continue.” Renjun turns his camera to show the sketch he made earlier today. “This is what we’re working with. It’s time to bring some color into this. I don’t wanna waste much time, so let’s begin.” He pulls his easel out and places the canvas on it. The camera is pointing at him and the canvas again but this time he is standing in the middle of his room. After opening a window, he starts with mixing light gray and dark brown. Oil paints don’t have the nicest smell, so it’s good to have a window or two open while painting. This way, Renjun can maximize the time he is able to paint before getting a headache. “Since I don’t have much time for this painting, I’ll use a fast drying medium. Hopefully this way the painting will be dry on time for y/n’s bday.” Renjun starts with a medium sized brush to paint a thin layer of light gray on the middle of his canvas, where fog would later shine through the trees. The next step is to use brown to block in the general shape of the trees. The two bend trees forming a heart take up quite a bit of space on the left and right side of his canvas. Later on, he wants to spend time on the details to tie everything in. Renjun, like most artists, finds it better to start with the general shape of things and work himself up to the smaller, more detailed parts of a painting. 

After almost two hours of painting, he takes a small break to get a snack. I should still have a pack of ramen left somewhere. Of course, only if his roommate Jay didn’t eat it. After locating the ramen and preparing it quickly, Renjun places his camera in front of him. “As you can see, I took a break guys. I’m sitting in the kitchen right now since I don’t want to expose myself to the smell of the paint unnecessarily. I only have a little bit of the background left. So, I think I should be able to finish in about twenty minutes or so.” Renjun turns his camera off to continue eating. Conveniently enough for him, you video call him while he's still eating. So, he wasn’t rushed to get out of his room to hide his painting from you. Renjun answers your call while positioning his phone against the fruit bowl on the table. “Hi babe, hold up.” After his phone is stable, he smiles at you. “How was your day?” Seeing Renjun after a long day makes you sigh and smile at him. You just wanted to see him and hear his voice for a while to feel better. “Exhausting, I had so much class today and work was a mess.” You pout. You work at a coffee shop downtown a few days a week to save up some money. Sadly, more often than not, you have to deal with difficult customers. “I’m sorry to hear that, love. Did you just get home?” You nod. It is way past nine in the evening and you were ready to go to sleep in a bit, ideally with Renjun cuddling you but that won’t happen today. “Jun, how come you’re eating at this hour?” You know he doesn’t usually eat this late as he doesn’t like to go to bed with a full stomach. Renjun quickly tries to come up with a plausible answer. He doesn’t want to tell you that he spent a good portion of the day painting your gift. “I had a bit of a light lunch today, went out with the boys but didn’t eat too much.” That technically wasn’t a lie either. During lunch he was eager to go back home to paint your gift but the boys insisted he ate at least something before spending hours on it. Renjun and you spend the next ten minutes talking, before he sents you a kiss through the camera and you hang up for the night. 

After washing his bowl, he goes back to his room. He could feel a headache approaching but was determined to finish the background today. Soon enough, around thirty minutes later, Renjun picks up his camera again. “I’m finished with the background guys. This is how it looks so far.” He turns the camera to show the canvas in detail and zooms in a little. At this point, it looks like a simple foggy forest with tall, leafless trees. Renjun will worry about the details later, for now this is good enough. “Quite simple but that’s fine for today. Hopefully it’ll be dry by tomorrow so I can continue after classes. See you then.” Renjun quickly changes into his pajamas and brushes his teeth to go to bed but not before making sure to keep his window open. 

Wednesday morning comes around and Renjun wakes up in his chilly room. He doesn’t mind it that much since he needs to get to class soon anyway. His Wednesdays are usually packed with classes. But thankfully, they are ones he mostly enjoys, Ceramics, Contemporary Art, Digital Media and lastly Painting II. After quickly eating breakfast and getting dressed, he was ready to start the day. Today, Renjun and you are actually planning to get lunch together. Wednesdays and Fridays were set dates where you would either hang out in between classes and snack on a few things or eat lunch together. Renjun loves doing small, simple things with you like snacking on sandwiches together. Since you’ve been busy lately with your part time job at the coffee shop, he hasn’t been able to spend lots of time with you. He made an effort to show up at your workplace every other day or so but seeing you for fifteen minutes just wasn’t enough, which is why he looked forward to today. As soon as his fourth class finishes, he makes a beeline to the door. 

You were supposed to meet next to the library and just as agreed he sees you standing there, smiling down at your phone. You’re wearing one of his hoodies and jeans, quite simple but you still manage to look great. As if you had a feeling he was coming your way, you look up. Renjun kisses your cheek, “Hi love, missed you.” He holds out his hand for you. Putting your hand in his, you start walking towards a convenience store nearby campus. “Junnie, how was class? Did you manage to finish your charcoal drawing from last week?” A few weeks ago in Painting II, Renjun's professor introduced the topic of shading with paint. His professor gave a deadline of one week to turn in a small charcoal drawing and today they had the first hour of class to finish it. The assignment was only intented to be a supplementary technique though. It would help to understand contrast and value as a basis for shading with paint. Charcoal isn’t a medium Renjun uses often, so he chose a somewhat simple object to draw, a vase full of your favorite flowers, tulips. “Yeah, I managed to finish it within the last ten minutes. The shading was a little tricky though. I’m not too satisfied with it but you know my perfectionist self.” Renjun smiles sheepishly. You know he takes his art seriously and has a tendency to focus a little too much on the details. Sometimes he would ask you to have a look at this work since your input helped him and over time he learned that looking at his art with a fresh set of eyes always worked. Nevertheless, in your opinion, he always manages to create something that was beautifully executed.

On the way to the supermarket you tell him about your day, how boring class was and how your professor gave you tons of reading material for the next class. Renjun knows you have a thing for reading, hence your English literature major but he never understood how you were able to survive reading so much for your degree. He enjoys reading from time to time but having to read pages upon pages of who knows how old literature and analyzing it all in class never had much appeal to him. Nevertheless, he listens attentively to you and after you both get some snacks that Renjun kindly carries, you walk back to campus to your favorite spot near the economics department. Just a few minutes away from the main building were a few benches looking out at the gardening club’s flower field. You and Renjun love to sit on one of them and enjoy the beauty of different flowers together. Thankfully, one of the benches isn’t occupied so you both can sit down and enjoy your break together. Every year, the gardening club arranges their flowers in different themes. A few months ago in summer the theme was “beach sun set”. For this, their flower field basically consisted of flowers in three colors: blue, orange and yellow. Since the season has already changed, a new theme is in place at the moment. This winter, the gardening club focussed on winter themed food by using white and red roses arranged in a way that looked like a candy cane and so on. Renjun likes the idea of different themes, it was nice to see the club have fun with being creative. In a way they're creating their own art. 

An hour later, Renjun walks you to your next class and squeezes your hand lovingly before making his way home. He is happy that he got to spend some quality time with you, even if it wasn’t very long. While walking back, he is mentally preparing a list of what he needs to paint next for your gift. Since the background was finished and hopefully dry, the next step would be to go into more detail by giving the trees more depth, properly outlining their roots and branches. Renjun also wants to add more color accents to the trees by painting green and slightly bluish leaves. He wants to mimic moon light shining through the forest. It would cast onto the leaves of the trees and give them a light blue tint. As soon as Renjun arrives home, he continues filming his painting process. “Hi painters, I’m back for the next round. Right now it's Wednesday afternoon, meaning I have exactly 6 days left for this painting to finish, so it can still dry in time. Let's go!” The next hours of Renjun’s day consisted of his open window, the smell of oil paints and color on his fingers. At one point, he did actually take a small break to eat, even his roommate Jay made an appearance. Renjun gets along just fine with him but both prefer to stay in their respective rooms, meaning they don't see each other often. He literally is just his roommate, still a cool guy though. One time Jay even asked him for some art advice. Renjun didn't really imagine him to be the type of guy to be interested in art, but turns out he wanted to try out something new. Of course, Renjun was happy to help and advise. Maybe this time for his painting he would ask Jay for his opinion. 

Thursday flew by him it seemed. Renjun got in and out of class, worked on another assignment and met up with the dreamies. He didn’t continue to paint on the canvas because it was still too wet. Time is worrying him a little bit since the paint takes longer to dry than he likes and he still needs to do quite a bit. But he'll push through. Renjun is determined to finish your gift one day before your birthday and there's no way he'll give you an unfinished painting.

The next day, your Friday lunch break falls short because of an essay you have to finish. However, this gives Renjun more time to perfect his painting for you, which he feels like he really needs. He spent so much time working on it, yet he still isn’t satisfied with the outcome. In fact, he feels like the painting was nowhere near being finished in time. There is something about the way he placed the sparks that he doesn't like. The thing is, he can’t really pinpoint why exactly he doesn't like it. They just aren't really “flying” in the air well enough. Some are too close together, others too far apart. In a way it doesn't look natural enough, but that in itself doesn't make any sense, cause no normal forest has such sparks flying through it. Renjun was expecting them to deepen the magical feeling of the forest, but for some reason he couldn’t portray that feeling onto the canvas in a satisfactory way. Regardless, a few spots shouldn't be enough to give him the feeling of not liking the placement of the sparks overall, right?

To be frank, he is very frustrated. So, at one point he decides to vent to his camera. “I know I’m too nitpicky. But I just want it to look perfect for y/n. I also know she will like my painting regardless. Heck, she probably wouldn’t mind if I doodled her something as a present. But I want it to be deserving of being in her room. I want her to love my painting and me to like it as well.” Renjun wipes a hand down his face. “Maybe I’ve been on this for too long. It’s already past 7 pm and I’ve been working on this painting since I ate lunch. Or maybe time is just stressing me. There are only a few days left and I still need to work on the details.” Renjun decides he needs a break, a fresh breath of air. Maybe the oil paint smell is messing too much with his ability to create. Whatever the case is, he decides to go by your workplace and see you. Your smile would definitely help him feel better. 

As soon as you see Renjun walking through the door of the coffee shop, you have a smile on your face. Your work day is slowly coming to an end and even though most customers today weren’t that difficult to handle, working a long shift naturally tires your body out, which is why it's a pleasant surprise to see your boyfriend. “Junnie, what are you doing here?” Seeing you standing behind the counter smiling at him, gives Renjun a warm and comfy feeling. It was like all of his worries evaporated into thin air as soon as your beautiful face smiled up at him. “Hi love, came to see you. I needed a fresh breath of air.” You walk around the counter to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, the rag still in your left hand. As expected, his insides are feeling fuzzy again.

You’ve always had that effect on him. Renjun didn’t really mind holding your hand in public or you leaning on him, but kisses, even if only on the cheek, are something intimate to him, so he only really initiates them in public if he really misses you. Otherwise they are kept for when you two are in private. “Trouble with painting again?” Renjun smiles sheepishly. Of course, you would figure him out. But he doesn’t mind and fortunately, you don’t know what exactly he was painting. “Yeah, I think I’ve been on it for a bit too long. You and a nice cup of tea will surely help.” Renjun isn’t a big fan of coffee, he preferred drinking tea over coffee any day. Whenever he comes around the coffee shop you work at, he either orders tea or just some pastry to snack on, sometimes both if he feels like looking at you a little longer. Often Renjun thinks about how pretty you look and about how he could watch you for hours. He realizes that thought might be creepy but you didn’t mind when he told you about it one day. It’s him after all, not some stranger. 

You quickly wipe down the table before going behind the counter again to prepare his drink. Today, Renjun chose to drink lemon tea. Being the nice girlfriend that you are, you gave him a small cookie on the side as well. Sadly, he can’t spend much time talking to you as new customers come in. That‘s why he sits down at a table and enjoys his tea and the cookie. How nice it would be if we could just sit on my bed and talk. Or rather on her bed, can’t have her seeing the painting. Occasionally, he looks over to see you wiping down tables and you wink at him. He was right, a tea and you definitely help to calm his mind. Renjun spends about twenty minutes in the coffee shop before he gets up and gives you a sweet goodbye. It is time to return to the dorm and continue his painting.

For now, he plans to continue with a few details of trees. Maybe having a fresh look at the sparks tomorrow is a better idea. Not counting today, 5 days were left till your birthday, which meant he effectively has 2 to 3 days left to paint since oil paint, even with a quick drying medium, still needs comparatively long to dry. After working for about half an hour on the details of the trees in the back, Renjun feels a little better about his painting. He takes this as an incentive to end the day with a positive feeling and grabs his camera again. “Okay guys, I’m calling it quits for today. It’s about 8 pm already. I think it’s better to tackle the sparks tomorrow. ” Renjun quickly shows the current state of his painting before he turns off the camera. 

The next day is a Saturday, meaning Renjun has all day to paint and he wakes up with a good feeling. He quickly eats breakfast and immediately wants to get to painting, so he sets up his camera to further film his painting process. It’s time to focus on the sparks. The ones he already painted were in different colors, namely pink, yellow, blue and red. But looking at his canvas with a fresh set of eyes, he realizes they were not bright enough for his liking. They aren’t really sparkling. Maybe the feeling he got last evening of them not “flying” in the forest nicely was caused by that. He needs to paint in such a way that they look like they were actually sparkling. Renjun has the revelation that he needs to add highlights to the sparks. Adding highlights to them would ensure that the sparks stand out more against the forest, making them more interesting and giving the painting a more refined look. He likes that approach. Maybe he can even place the highlights in such a way that it would have the effect of letting single sparks look more apart from others. This way his problem of the placement of some sparks would be solved, at least to some extent. 

For the next hour Renjun works on adding enough highlights and blending around the sparks. He also adds a few more sparks to the forest. Taking a few steps back from his canvas, he regards the result. This time, Renjun definitely likes it a lot more. The sparks look nice against the dark forest and shine in different colors. It felt realistic and he was happy with the outcome so far. He grabs his camera, “Finally guys, I managed to paint the sparks in a way I’m satisfied with. I had the realization this morning that I needed to add highlights to them and I'm happy to report that it was a good idea.” Renjun shows his viewers the current state of his painting. “I’m thinking of continuing with the details of the two bent trees in the front. I only have a few days left to paint and I still need to work on the details of the pond.” Renjun puts his camera back on his desk again, before facing the canvas. These two trees still need leaves and defined roots. He wants to make them look like they are quite old.

Basically, Renjun spent the rest of his day painting, except for the occasional toilet and food break. After hours in front of his canvas, his head hurts. His bedroom is cold because of the opened window, yet he still feels the effects of the oil paint. Whatever. I need to continue at least a little bit more. At this point, the two trees forming a heart are finished. Renjun added a few bushes to the forest as well and moss around the pond. Since he had decided to make the path leading to the pond a blueish white, he worked on that as well. This way, it seems like the moon lights it up. Of course, he also needs to add highlights to the crown of the trees. He thinks about whether to make them a different color, but ultimately decides to go with the same blueish white since it ties in better with his concept of the moon shining down on the forest. Renjun wants to finish that part today, before calling it quits for tonight. It should take him under half an hour to finish this detail and then he can enjoy a bowl of ramen before going to bed.

The following day, Renjun can’t really continue working on his painting since it needs to dry, so he mainly spends the day working on his art history essay that is due for Tuesday’s class. He already had planned it ahead, which is why he had mainly focused on his painting for you yesterday. Since it needed to dry for him to continue, Renjun can use today for his assignment. He needs to write an essay about the way leadership and power gets depicted in art. For that he had to choose a picture to analyze and write about. Renjun knows he is pushing it a bit late but since he doesn’t plan to work on anything else today, he figures it’s fine. He’s sure that he can finish the assignment today and if not, he still has a bit of tomorrow left. It is only supposed to be four pages long anyway. How hard can that be, right? Well turns out a little harder than he had thought. Renjun spends around three hours in front of his laptop before he decides to take a break. I really should eat something. After all this writing his brain needs energy and a break. Standing up from his desk, he turns around and his gaze falls on the canvas in his room. Renjun inspects it carefully from a distance and actually likes the result. Of course, it still isn’t finished. He definitely needs to add a few more details. The bend trees need to look more interesting and realistic. A few more details on the trees in the back would be good. Maybe I also should add a few more sparks-– his finger twitches. There is nothing more that Renjun wants in this moment than to grab his brush and continue painting, perfecting your present. But right now is not the time. He shakes his head lightly. Still needs to dry. 

Trying to get his thoughts away from the painting, Renjun decides on what show to watch while he eats something. Surprisingly, he has been enjoying a Chinese drama you recommended lately, but maybe watching the next 40-minutes episode isn’t such a great idea with an unfinished essay sitting on his desk. So he decides to just watch a YouTube video. Twenty minutes later, Renjun sits at his desk again and continues with his essay. That’s basically how he spends his whole afternoon. Around 6 pm he is actually almost finished with the essay. That’s why he decides to get up and go into the kitchen to make some ramen. He knows that he ate a little too much ramen throughout the week but they are really just so convenient when he doesn't have much time to cook. 

However, on the way to the kitchen, his doorbell suddenly rings. Renjun isn’t expecting anyone, his roommate might have but Jay doesn’t come out of his room to open the door. So when the bell rings a second time, Renjun opens the door. To his surprise, it’s you. You stand there, smiling at him, dressed in an oversized jacket and plaid pajama pants, a small handbag on top of your right shoulder and a plastic bag in your left hand. As usual, you look cute and cozy but Renjun can’t really concentrate on that. He only stares at you. Why is she here? Did I miss something? And then it hits him. He curses in his head, you’re here for the movie night you both agreed on last week. Seems like amidst all the painting and college he forgot about it. Good going Renjun. You tilt your head a little to the side, “Baby, are you going to let me in?” Renjun’s mind immediately goes to your gift. Damn it, the painting’s still in my room! He can’t possibly let you see it. In panic, Renjun turns his head back, looking into the flat. He needs to come up with some kind of excuse right now, on the spot, “Love, babe, give me like 2 minutes okay, my room’s kinda messy”, he looks at you, his hand already resting on the door to close it. “Jun, you know I don’t care about that”, you step forward, laughing a little but he holds his ground. “No really, just give me like 5 minutes”, Renjun doesn’t give you any time to properly react and closes the door. 

Quickly jogging into his room, he looks around. He only needs to hide the canvas, his paints and brushes aren’t a problem. But where should he hide it? Behind the closet? No way, too risky. The kitchen, no it’s right next to the front door. And then it hits him. Jay! Carefully grabbing the canvas, Renjun quickly goes across the hall and knocks on his roommate’s door. “Listen dude, my girl’s just outside the door but I can’t have her see this painting. Can I please hide it in your room for a few hours?” Fortunately, Renjun and Jay get along well. “Oh yeah sure” Jay points to the corner next to his dresser, “you can put it there dude” Renjun quickly puts the painting down and thanks Jay like three times before he goes to get you. “Okay love, you can come in.” “Thank you for being so gracious, your highness” You jokingly bow down before entering, Renjun shakes his head, closes the door and grabs your hand. You do sometimes have this amusingly bizarre streak. “How come you suddenly felt the need to tidy up your room for me? Hiding something?”, you tease him. Renjun almost scratches his head. Surely, if he would’ve done that you would be more suspicious of him. “It’s just messy babe. I want you to be comfortable.” Humming, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. It sure seems like he didn’t expect you to come over today though. “Did you forget our movie night, Junnie?” Renjun smiles apologetically and nods, “Sorry love, promise, next time I won’t forget.” He squeezes your hand. Renjun normally isn’t the person to forget your dates. Spending time with you is one of his favorite things to do but even he can sometimes forget. You don’t mind, he’s also just human. Besides, you know Renjun had a couple of deadlines lately. 

Entering his room, the familiar sight of art materials, a few soda cans and an easel greets you. Renjun keeps his room mostly tidy except for whenever exam season hits and he has to deal with many art projects at the same time. Renjun’s habit of spending too much on details leads him to making full use of the deadlines, which in return stresses him out so much that he doesn’t bother a lot with cleaning. To you that’s fine, you aren’t much different in that aspect. Besides, why add more stress to exams by worrying about whether your room is clean or not. You make your way to his bed and put your handbag down, your gaze finding the empty easel in the middle of his room. That usually means he's working on something. “Jun, what have you been working on?” Renjun’s gaze quickly follows yours. Dang, should've put that away! Okay, just say something. Quick! “Ahh love, you know I have a few projects due soon. I’ve been spending a lot of time painting.” Renjun sits down next to you, nodding as if he was trying to reassure himself that he wasn’t caught by you. But technically he didn’t lie. Quickly trying to change the subject, he grabs your plastic bag. Before coming over to Renjun’s place, you quickly got a few snacks at a convenience store. “No movie without snacks right? Oh and I got you some ramen as well, Jun.” He looks inside the plastic bag, it contains chips in two different flavors, some gummy bears, his favorite ramen and pretzel snacks. “Thank you love, I should still have some soda in the fridge for us.” Renjun stands up and takes a step in the direction of the door but halts as you grab his wrist. “Jun, can we prepare the ramen now? I’m actually quite hungry, I haven't had dinner yet.” You’re hoping he agrees as the last thing you ate today was just a piece of toast a couple of hours ago. After your eight hour shift at work today you worked a little on an assignment before buying the snacks for tonight. Renjun immediately agrees, laughing a little. “Sure, I’ve literally wanted to make myself some ramen before you rang the bell.”

After cooking the ramen and grabbing two soda cans, you’re sitting on Renjun’s bed while turns off the lights before he grabs his laptop. Since he knows how much you like to have a few scented candles lit up while watching a movie, Renjun also does that before sitting cross-legged next to you and putting his blanket over you both. Turning on the third Harry Potter movie, you cuddle up to him and enjoy the evening together. Three weeks ago, Renjun and you had decided to rewatch all HP movies and so far you both enjoyed it very much. It’s been years since the last time you watched them, so you figured doing it together would be fun. That’s why you’ve met up with Renjun once a week for movie night, snacking away your worries and college stress for at least the few hours that you spend together with him. Sitting together under the blanket and just spending time together with him is one of your favorite things to do. It doesn't matter if you watch a movie or drink tea together, you just enjoy spending time in Renjun’s arms. How can you not? Renjun is just so good to cuddle. That’s why you always end up putting your head on his shoulder, hugging him and it’s no different today. Your head is resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. 

From time to time Renjun gives your body a little squeeze and feeds you snacks. He also sneaks a few glances at you. Seeing you so comfortable around him, makes his insides feel warm. So cute. He might love you a little more every time he sees you like this. You aren’t wearing any makeup and aren’t dressed up, yet you manage to make him attracted to you nonetheless. There is just something so attractive about you being your true self around him, not caring about how you look in your pajamas or how much you snack. Suddenly, Renjun feels the urge to kiss you. If only you weren’t so focused on the movie, “My love”. You hum as an answer, eyes still glued on the laptop screen. “Look at me please.” You lift your head off his shoulder and Renjun just looks at you lovingly. While you slowly sit up, he can only think about how you really are the most beautiful woman he set his eyes on. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he slowly leans in. Renjun believes there is nothing better in the world than moments like these. Moments where everything fades into the background and only you two seem to exist. Moments where he can be very close to you and his lips can meet yours in a loving and intimate way. Your lips are soft and smooth in such a way it feels like kissing the clouds. Your hand naturally finds its way into Renjun’s hair. His right hand cups your cheek while his lips move slowly against yours. His other hand rests on your waist and after a loving moment, Renjun tilts his head a little more to the side, deepening the kiss. His lips still taste a little of the ramen you two had earlier but you don’t mind. Kissing him is always great. In a sense, kissing him is like drinking a cup of hot cocoa on cold winter days. Renjun’s kisses give you comfort, warmth and a sense of belonging like you’ve never felt before. Even in very passionate moments, where kissing him stole your breath away, Renjun is caring and gentle. Just like now as he holds you a little closer, loving you a little more. His hand, previously on your cheek, moves down, stroking your waist. Slowly he pulls away, hands still on your waist. “I love you.” Truly, you’re one of the people that make him the happiest. Smiling, you lean into him to place your lips on his one more time, portraying your love for him. “I love you too.” Putting your head on his shoulder again, you notice the movie is still playing. Both of you return to watching and enjoying it further. 

Around halfway through the movie, the cozy atmosphere and dim lit room actually make you sleepy. You did have a long day today and after a while, Renjun notices your lack of comments and snacking. Turning his head to look at you, he sees you fast asleep on his shoulder. Not wanting you to be cold, he places the blanket further up your body and tightens his arm around you. Renjun is unsure about waking you. Since you don’t need to work tomorrow morning, you could sleep over today. It’s been quite a while anyway since the last time you slept over at his place. To be honest, he kind of misses falling asleep with you next to him. However, if you are to sleep over, the painting will need to stay in Jay’s room for the night. I guess I could ask him. He probably wouldn’t mind. Renjun decides he would ask. So he slowly begins to move your head from his shoulder, hoping you won't wake up. He really tries to be careful but apparently isn’t careful enough since you slowly start to wake up while he tries to lay your head down onto a pillow. Slowly sitting up, you quietly mumble his name. Your hooded eyes find the laptop screen still playing the movie. “I’m sorry love, didn’t wanna wake you” “It’s okay. When did I fall asleep?” Renjun smiles, “I’m not sure, some time ago.” “Oh”  “Yeah, oh” He laughs a little. “Do you wanna sleep over, love?” You nod, you can just leave in the morning since you don’t need to work until the afternoon shift begins. Renjun and you decide to just wash up and relax in his bed. He doesn’t need to finish the movie and you’re so tired, you probably would’ve fallen asleep again anyways. Closing his laptop, you make your way to the bathroom he shares with his roommate. Renjun always has a toothbrush prepared for you even if you didn’t sleep over most nights. It’s pretty cute and someway along you also started to pick up that habit of his for whenever he would sleep over at your dorm. That didn’t happen so often though since you share your dorm room with another girl. It’s definitely more comfortable to sleep at his place since he has a room to himself. 

While you’re in the bathroom, Renjun quickly makes his way to Jay’s room and knocks quietly. In hindsight, he could’ve also just sent him a text but whatever, Jay already opened the door. “Hey man, y/n’s gonna sleep over. Is it okay if the painting stays with you tonight?” Jay doesn’t have a problem with it. It’s just in a corner anyway, so the painting doesn’t really bother him. Having solved that problem, Renjun makes his way back into his room and starts to put the snacks away before getting you a shirt and sweatpants to wear for the night. Just in case she wants to get out of her pajama pants. Shortly after, you enter. “Here love, you can get changed if you want while I brush my teeth”, Renjun points to the clothes on the bed that he neatly laid out for you. You’ve always liked sleeping in his clothes, somehow it’s another kind of comfy. Maybe it’s because they always smell like him and how is a girl able to resist that? “Thank you Jun”, you quickly kiss his cheek before he leaves the room. Looking around you notice that Renjun already blew out the candles and sorted out his bed. After quickly changing your clothes, you grab a corner of his blanket and slip under it. 

Not even three minutes pass before he opens the door to his room. A soft smile makes its way onto Renjun’s lips as he sees you already comfy and ready in bed, waiting for him. Seems like the tiredness is slowly creeping up on you again. My poor baby. It's not even 9:30 and she’s ready to call it a day. Renjun quickly turns off his light and gets in bed next to you. You turn around to face him and his arm automatically wraps itself around your waist, pulling you a little closer. You place your hand on his chest while your head rests on his arm. Renjun slowly strokes your hair, soft eyes looking at you in the dark. After a few minutes, you snuggle a little closer to him. Cuddling him like this makes you even more sleepy. You nuzzle your face into his chest, giving him the perfect opportunity to lay a sweet kiss on top of your head. Renjun rests his cheek against the top of your head. Little words are exchanged as you welcome the comfortable and sleepy atmosphere. Except for your breathing, your heartbeats and the occasional sound of the blanket shuffling, the room is silent. You love moments like these. You love when Renjun cuddles with you, when you can feel his arms holding your body closely and his soft breath against your hair. You’ve always had a soft spot for his hugs anyway and being so close to him that you can listen to his heartbeat while feeling the warmth radiating from his body gives another level of bliss. You actually want to stay awake a little longer, want to consciously feel his body for some time more but it’s getting progressively harder for you to stay awake and Renjun sees how you struggle to. He murmurs against your hair, “Close your eyes, love. I know you had a long day” You feel another kiss on your hair and mumble an “I love you” to him before closing your eyes and letting sleep take over you. You barely manage to hear him say it back before you fully fall asleep.  

Opening your eyes the next morning, Renjun’s sleeping face greets you. His hair is kind of messy and his shirt got pulled down a bit, exposing part of his collarbones. Renjun’s arm rests on top of your hip and your feet are touching. Watching him for a few minutes, you get lost in your thoughts. There’s just something different about him in this relaxed state. It's like all the world’s stress and pressure can't get to him, like he can truly be undisturbed and there’s nothing in the world less than peace and happiness that you wish for Renjun. You know he has tendencies that make his life, especially his college life, a little more difficult than it needs to be. But honestly who knew an art major could be so demanding? You used to have this picture in your head of an art major being easy. After all, the students only need to paint stuff, right? Yeah, not exactly. Because of Renjun, you were able to glance beyond surface level and it turns out, studying art is harder than it seems. Renjun has written exams, almost weekly mini art projects for his classes, he needs to hold presentations and when exam season comes around his room is piled up with different art materials for his creative projects. It truly seems like you have to love art to study it or else you will drown. Renjun gives his all for college and you love that for him but him being a perfectionist adds another layer of difficulty to his degree. Sometimes he really needs to relax. That’s why you like seeing him resting so much. He can shut the world out and doesn’t fry his brain with details of his unfinished projects. You get to see him recovering from all the work he puts into his passion. 

You regard Renjun‘s sleeping state for a little while longer. The sun falls beautifully on him, partly on his face and hair. It highlights his slightly puffy face that he tends to get in the mornings. Your hand unconsciously reaches out and begins to stroke his hair slowly. Feeling your hand caressing his hair, Renjun stirs a little and sighs. It’s a very cute sight. Slowly opening his eyes after a few minutes, he smiles at you. Tightening his arm around your waist, you exchange a small kiss. Spending the morning with Renjun is usually a calm and loving experience. He likes to take his time in the mornings whenever he can, especially when he’s still a little sleepy. So you both spend a while wrapped in each other's arms with quiet murmurs to not disturb the morning quietness, taking in the warmth of one another before slowly getting out of bed to get ready. After eating breakfast together you need to leave to go home. Since you didn’t plan on spending the night, you plan on making a stop at your dorm, changing into a different outfit and maybe reading a little before going to work today.

As soon as you left, Renjun got his painting from Jay’s room. Today is the last day he can work on it since the painting needs to be dry for your birthday. After spending the last evening with you, Renjun feels quite good this morning. He feels like he can finish the painting in time and that he’ll like the outcome. The painting still needs details to the pond. It hopefully won’t take more than two hours. After that, Renjun still needs to add finishing touches to your gift. He starts with the pond by adding light blue highlights and a few branches that touch the water before letting the paint rest a little. In the meantime, he moves on to the finishing touches of other parts of the painting. Renjun had planned on spending the majority of today to finish your gift. Unfortunately, he can’t varnish it yet because it needs a few months to properly dry before he can put the varnish on top to fully seal it. However, for your birthday it will be enough for the painting to be dry to touch. After adding a little more detail to the trees in the background and defining a few of them a bit more, Renjun continues with the two main trees forming the heart. He decides to add some moss to the tree barks. 

However, after regarding the thin layer of moss he painted, he isn’t really satisfied. It seems a bit too flat for his liking, so he decides to try a different approach and goes to the kitchen to get some coffee. Maybe adding a few sprinkles of ground coffee into the paint will create a more natural finish. After trying it out on a paper and liking it, he uses his mixture of paint and coffee for the moss on the canvas. Looks pretty good. Being satisfied with the moss, Renjun takes a few steps away from his canvas to have a look at the pond. It doesn’t necessarily look bad but there’s still something he doesn’t like. He feels like it's kind of looking boring, which probably is because of a lack of details. That’s why for the next hour or so he spends his time perfecting the pond. In a spur of inspiration, Renjun also decides to add shadows of little fish inside the water.

Just in time for a small food break, Renjun finishes with the painting for now. He decides to come back to it after eating a bowl of ramen to regard it one last time before deciding if it’s really finished or not. Twenty minutes later, after he finished eating, Renjun stands in his room with crossed arms in front of the canvas. The window is open again, still his room very much smells like oil paints. His shirt and hands have paint on them, he truly looks like an artist in this moment. To him, there’s something strangely satisfying whenever he gets lost in painting so much that his hands and clothes show the proof. Renjun is satisfied with the outcome. It looks great. Exactly how I envisioned it. Finally. The forest looks enchanted, mysterious and doesn't have too much or too little detail. It looks like a forest one could stumble upon in a fantasy world and that’s what he was going for. She will surely like it. Smiling, Renjun starts to collect his art materials to clean them.

But suddenly, he gets a thought. I totally forgot to film! He quickly gets his camera and presses record. “Hi painters, it’s the last day of painting. Tomorrow is just for drying and then it’s y/n’s birthday. I actually already finished the painting but forgot to film it. Sorry about that. It's around 5 pm right now. Last night, y/n stayed over so I couldn’t wake up extra early to finish it. But it’s okay, I finished anyway. Have a look at the result.” Renjun turns his camera to show the canvas. “This is the finished product. I added details to the pond and some finishing touches today and I made some spontaneous decisions that turned out really well actually. ” He zooms in on the moss. “For the moss I added ground coffee into my paint. It gives it a more realistic finish, maybe give it a try some time.” Renjun laughs a little, “I think I might use this hack more often.” He turns the camera to show himself again, “I’m super satisfied with the result and actually very happy that I got finished in time. Although I wouldn’t recommend that you guys start a project this size in such a short time frame. Honestly, it was quite stressful. But I’m glad I was able to pull it off and I know for a fact that y/n’s gonna like it. Thank you guys so much for watching!” Turning his camera off, Renjun let out a happy sigh.

He didn’t immediately start editing the video though. It’s really time to take a break. Renjun just finished a big project and wants to celebrate. That’s why he quickly cleans up his room and video calls the dreamies’ group chat. Haechan is the first one to pick up “Look who came back from the dead.” Renjun laughs dryly and right after Mark joins the video chat, “Yo whats up?” Soon enough all the dreamies join and Renjun tells them about how he’s finally finished with the painting. Of course they want to see it, which is why Renjun switches to his phone’s back camera. “Dude, that looks so cool!” “I think she’s definitely gonna like it” “How come you never paint me a pic like that?” “Are you my girlfriend?”, Renjun deadpans. Haechan sulks a bit, “No.” “See. Now anyways, do you guys wanna hang out tonight?” It’s been a while since all of them hung out together anyway. “Yeah, we could try out that new Mexican restaurant near my place.” Renjun likes Jeno’s idea and everyone agrees, except for Jisung. “Guys, I have to finish an assignment by Wednesday. Can I join a bit later?” Mark reassures Jisung that his assignment was more important. “For sure dude, work on your assignment. We’ll save you a spot.” An hour later, the dreamies are sitting in the restaurant, going over the menu. Renjun thinks it’s nice to spend time together again, catching up and joking around. 

After Jisung joins, the whole group is complete and they spend the evening eating delicious food and talking. Renjun knows that he shouldn’t spend too much money there but stressful days of assignments and the painting is coming to an end and he wants to enjoy himself. That’s why he goes for dessert even when he was kinda full already. It’s okay, I deserve it. Soon, the relaxing evening comes to an end and the boys part ways. The day after tomorrow they’ll meet up at Jeno’s place to celebrate your birthday. You know it's a bit strange to celebrate your birthday at Jeno's place and you were a little hesitant at first. Of course you and Jeno are friends because of Junnie and your bestie, but not that close. Originally, you had planned to just hang out somewhere in the park but the weather has been kind of on the colder side lately. But, Jeno assured you that it’s fine. He's living alone, meaning he has enough space to host your small birthday get-together. Having some people over is nice anyway and he knows most of the people you invited. Besides the dreamies and your best friend, only two other friends of yours were expected to come. So it’s really fine for Jeno. Not to mention, his girlfriend, your bestie, would probably be somewhat upset if he said no to you. You were the person to introduce them after all. 

The next day Renjun slept in. His to do list doesn’t include much for today, mainly getting some nice wrapping for your gift. He also plans on visiting you at work again. It’s going to be a pretty simple day but he likes that his day doesn’t include any stress. Tomorrow, the day of your birthday, he’ll buy you some flowers and your favorite chocolate before meeting up with Mark. He was so nice to offer Renjun to put the painting in his car and drive to Jeno’s place together. This way he won’t need to take the painting on the subway. Renjun is pretty excited for you to see his gift. Of course he knows that you would like it but he still looks forward to your reaction. Since Jeno’s place allows for more room, Renjun plans to show up a bit earlier to decorate the place tomorrow. He excluded you from decorating on purpose and had said he was gonna handle it and so you let him. That boy can be stubborn. Renjun wants to keep his painting out of your sight for as long as he can. 

So when he and Mark arrive at Jeno’s place with your gift on the day of your birthday, Renjun puts it in Jeno’s bedroom. He knows you aren't gonna go in there, so it’s a safe spot to hide it. After making sure the painting isn’t gonna slip while he’s away, Renjun starts to prepare snack bowls and places your cake into the fridge, before helping Jeno and Mark with some balloons and a happy birthday sign. There wasn't much to prepare since you just want to spend your birthday relaxing with your friends. So soon enough, the three of them finish and around 6 pm everyone you invited is gathered on the floor around Jeno’s couch table, playing some board games and catching up. Throughout the day, Renjun films a few moments of your get-together. He wants to include your birthday party but especially your reaction to his present in his video. As the evening passes you turn to karaoke, singing songs from ABBA to Little Mix. At one point Renjun even starts to serenade you. He puts on quite a performance, singing Hot by Avril Lavigne and you totally enjoy it. It’s pretty funny actually, he’s pointing in your direction and dancing around. It’s nice seeing him so carefree. You’re kinda tempted to join and serenade him but he won't let you outperform him anyway. Besides, Renjun really has a lot of energy to spend. It’s already 8 pm, gifts still haven't been exchanged and he’s excited but also somewhat nervous for your reaction. He hopes you’ll love the painting as much as he does. However, there’s a part of him that fears he chose the wrong thing to paint but he tries to ignore that voice. You’re gonna love it, he just needs to keep on reminding himself of that.  

To say your reaction didn’t disappoint would’ve been an understatement. Renjun actually managed to hold himself in check till he was the last one left to give his gift. You really like the gifts you got this year. From a new book to new skin care you’ve been eyeing for a while, your friends put thought into them and that’s what counts and makes you happy. Two of your friends left half an hour ago, cause it’s kinda late already. The boys spontaneously had decided to sleep over at Jeno’s place, so it’s only you, your bestie and the dreamies left. “Okay, time for the finale”, for some reason, Haechan is very excited for your reaction to Renjun’s gift as well. He secretly plans to take pictures of you two. Earlier today, he also appointed Jisung to take a video. “Give me a minute, love. I’ll get your gift” Renjun squeezes your hand, giving you a smile. You look over at the boys and they just have smiles on their faces. It’s obvious that you’re gonna like the painting. Really, Renjun doesn’t have anything to worry about. A minute later, he comes back with the painting in wrapping paper. He chose one with a leaf print on it. It looks nice and maybe it could give you a bit of foreshadowing on what the gift entailed. “Happy birthday, love” Renjun sets the painting down, holding it in place and signals for you to open it. “I hope you like it” 

It’s clear that his gift was some kind of painting. Knowing Renjun, you guess that he actually painted it. “You painted for me?”, you place your hand on the gift. There was a certain smoothness to the wrapping paper. Renjun murmurs a small yes and the thought alone that he had painted you something this big was enough to make you tear up. He must’ve spent hours on this, hours just to make you happy. Sometimes you question how you were so blessed to have someone like him love you. Renjun really is giving his all to make you happy. Slowly, you unwrap the painting. Piece by piece different colors shine towards you, greens, some darker and some lighter, brown and little colorful spots. As soon as you unwrap the gift completely, you have a proper look at the painting and almost can’t believe your eyes. It’s so beautiful and perfect. You would’ve never expected such an amazing gift from him. You can’t believe Renjun would spend so much effort just for you. He put so much detail and love into the painting and it feels like you could see that from a mile away. This was the most thoughtful gift anyone ever gave you. You couldn’t possibly describe the meaning this holds for you. It’s so mesmerizing, the way the colors dance on the canvas, how he managed to portray feelings into his painting and really make it come alive. In a way it feels like the gift expresses how much Renjun loves you. 

You’re so overwhelmed and touched by the painting, the hard work and love he must’ve put into it that the only thing you can do is let out a sob. Renjun definitely didn't expect that reaction. His eyes widen and he starts to panic inside. No no no, she hates it? I should’ve chosen something else, damn it! Your hand naturally finds its way onto your mouth, more tears rolling down your cheeks while you admire the painting for a few moments more. You know Renjun has always put thought into the gifts he got you, but this really is on another level. The amount of devotion he put into making this is unbelievable. You've never seen more beautiful art than this painting and he did it with his own two hands.

Renjun’s wide-eyed gaze finds Mark’s but he also doesn’t know what to do. It’s like Renjun’s worst nightmare comes true right in front of his eyes. How could I be so stupid! Damn it! I was so sure she’s gonna like it. “Baby-”, Renjun’s ready to apologize and go buy you a better gift immediately but you don’t even give him time to finish his sentence. Throwing your arms around him, you hug him tight. “Thank you, thank you.” Four simple words and Renjun’s world stopped crumbling. He is beyond relieved. It’s like all his panicky thoughts leave his body instantly. He lets out a small laugh, hugging you back and smiling into your shoulder. You actually like it, like really like it. “It’s so beautiful. Thank you so much” Your heart almost can’t handle the thought of Renjun giving you something so precious, so beautiful. “Baby you almost gave me a heart attack.” You lean back a bit, mumbling a small sorry before placing your lips onto his. Renjun’s lips were soft and smooth like always. His kiss makes your stomach flip. He’s truly yours, not going anywhere and loving you like no other guy ever has. Renjun’s arms tighten around yours before you tilt your head a little, deepening the kiss and soon enough you hear a mixture of complaints from the boys. “Okay, what the heck” “Ew, leave that for later guys” Renjun blushes a bit, pulling away slowly. He really isn’t used to doing that in front of the boys. Pecking his lips one last time, you loosen your grip and just smile at him. “Dang,” Haechan looks at the pictures he took of you two kissing, “I really need to learn how to paint”.

a/n: excuse any painting process parts or art major parts that might be inaccurate haha, oh and if you wanna request something, I'm open to hear your idea :)

[ghost-proofbaby]

I’m so glad you liked the jokes!

(I though they were hilarious because my sense of humor is nothing if not bad dad jokes, puns, and sarcasm. But I can’t even take credit for them because I found them online haha)

For the blurb idk if you intended for me to ask for something specific or not but I kinda just want to see what you’ll come up with if that’s okay? I feel like any idea you had would be better than mine anyway lol. Up to you really on whether or not you already have ideas or need some help. ♥️

the jokes were so so good i loved them truly. my sense of humor is the exact same way. and oh bless your soul for letting my mind run wild. i present to you all an idea that literally sent me feral, in which you've got some new perfumes and eddie is a blind idiot.

warnings: fem!reader, reader is very vaguely described as having hair that is at least shoulder length as well as buying items such as bras perfumes and chapsticks, hints at sexual themes but no actual smut, neck kissing and just good old fashioned kissing happens, eddie is kind of a perv? a little bit? also, not edited (what's new?) minors dni.

wc: 4.1k+ (i got a little carried away)

“Smell this.” 

The demand is paired with a sudden wrist in Eddie’s face that nearly has him falling off the bed. 

“Excuse me?” 

You and Eddie had been best friends for a while now. Since that first week of freshman year. Eddie, in all his awkward glory, had leaned up from his seat behind you in Mrs. Damon’s first hour English class, stabbed you right in the shoulder blade with a dully sharpened pencil just to inform you that he liked your shirt. You, in all your teacher’s pet façade, had only shushed him harshly and glared before turning back around. But some time between the ice breakers and the saving grace of the first bell of what would be a long high school career, you’d decided you would address him before you’d scurried out of that classroom and thank him. But not before you’d informed him that you didn’t even know the band displayed, had just thrifted the shirt for looking cool, and had unknowingly sent Eddie on a mission to educate you in the glory of his favorite band. 

And nearly six years later, he was still on that mission. You were stubborn and had sworn loyalty to Fleetwood Mac before Eddie and Metallica had ever even stood a chance. 

He doesn’t mind. He’d listen to the Rumors album on repeat for the rest of his days if it meant he always ended up in this position at the end of the day — in his room, on his bed, lounging with you to pass the time. 

Your wrist is still held up dangerously close to Eddie’s face in the present day, a look of determination and contemplation overtaking you, “Smell. My. Wrist.” 

Six years is a long time to grow comfortable with someone. And, in Eddie’s case, fall in love with your best friend. 

“I’m not smelling your wrist, weirdo,” he mumbles as he swats your hand away, squinting at the way you were perched on your knees as they sunk into his mattress. He had been halfway to a much needed nap before you had lost interest in whatever magazine you’d been reading, “Why do you even need me to? What didja do to it?” 

His words are still half slurring from fatigue. If he cuts off your pestering strategically enough, he might still achieve that nap his heavy bones so desperately yearned for. 

You readjust yourself, flopping down to sit beside Eddie with your legs stretched out as he lifts himself up. Shoulder to shoulder, calf along calf, the two of you prop your backs against his warm bedroom wall, “I went to Starcourt yesterday with Nancy and bought some new perfumes-“

“Perfumes?” he wrinkles his nose, “Plural?” 

He would have sworn he’d have noticed a new perfume, but these days, he’d been trying to put some restraint on his pathetic crush. Tried to tame the yearning inside of him, which meant less indulging in things like sniffing the air like a freakish dog whenever you entered a room just to drink in the smell of you that had brought him so much comfort over the years. Less letting his eyes linger on the straps of the bras you’d started wearing more of since you’d begun to hang out more with the likes of Nancy Wheeler, who had been single-handedly teaching you how to be a girl in a way Eddie had never witnessed from you. 

You’d wasted most of your critical youth surrounded by boys, by Eddie. Go figure that Wheeler was jumping at the opportunity to mold a blank canvas.

“Yes, I bought perfumes, plural, as in multiple- oh, don’t give me that look, Munson,” you scowl when he makes a face, wrinkles forming adorably between your brows. (Brows he was pretty sure Nancy had plucked for you last weekend, but again — Eddie wasn’t supposed to notice those things anymore. Tampering the crush, or whatever idiotic goal he had set for himself.), “They were on a BOGO sale. Bite me. Anyways, I got these new perfumes, and one of the ladies was telling me and Nance how you should layer your scents. Which, God, doesn’t that sound ridiculous?”

Eddie hums, eyebrows raised skeptically at where this rambling was going.

“So I bought these scents that she said might pair well together. But then, she was talking about body chemistry and-“ you cut yourself off, clearly realizing how boring this topic might be to someone like Eddie who hadn’t even picked out his own drugstore cologne (you had), “Listen, just… just stop questioning it and smell my wrist.” 

Once again, you hold your arm out in front of Eddie’s now softening face. He’s holding his breath, which he hopes you don’t notice, as he weighs his options.

Smell your wrist, probably subjecting himself to a terrible sort of pain when he realizes he'd much rather be placing feathery kisses there before moving onto your knuckles as he holds your hand. Or deny you, possibly hurt your feelings or offend you as he brushes this off as another girly thing he wanted nothing to do with. 

The fleeting image of your face if he were to reject you in this moment is enough to make his choice for him.

He never could say no to you.

“What am I even supposed to be smelling it for?” he grumbles as he reaches out and grabs your forearm, opting that safer territory than your hand as he guided your skin closer to him, “Like, I’m not a scents expert, sweet-“

Oh. 

Eddie’s brain short circuits as the tip of his nose brushes your soft skin. The pet name dies on his tongue, the inhale through his nose cutting off just as suddenly. 

Oh, God. Oh, fuck. 

He already knows he's a sucker for you, a dog with a bone when it comes to your presence and attention. He already relished in your old perfume's scent and the way it would cling to a room, lingering on his sheets when you’d sleep over after a movie night gone too late. When you’d borrow his Hellfire shirt and return it without washing it, leaving the collar tainted with sweetness and enough undertones of vanilla to make a chasm within him yearn terribly. 

But this new perfume, perfumes technically, were something different. They weren’t the same as the body spray you’d been using every day since freshman year. They were deeper, more complicated, more womanly than he had prepared himself for.

“Does it… does it smell good?” you meekly ask him, suddenly going shy at his frozen state, “Like, is it working with my… my own smell? Sometimes perfumes smell good on their own but don’t work with your body’s chemistry, that’s what the lady had been explaining to me and Nan-“

“It’s working.” 

It’s all he can manage to choke out as he lets go of your arm so that it falls away and takes the sweet smells with it. 

God, it was working.

Eddie felt more embarrassed than he had that first month of puberty, when he was just discovering girls and noticing the stretch of t-shirts over chests. He felt even more affected than the first time he’d let his eyes wander over the back of Cheryl T’s thighs the last day of eighth grade, and discovered the wonders of an ass’ curve. 

All his blood would not be rushing south. No. Absolutely not. He wouldn’t allow it, not when he was fully grown and should have some self-control, and certainly not when he was wearing his thinnest pair of boxers with grey fucking sweatpants. 

Your eyes are wide with innocence, or at least what he hopes is innocence, “Really? It smells good?”

He has to clear his throat before he can properly reply, “‘s good, yeah. It, uh, yeah. Smells good.” 

Think of naked grandmas. Think of kicked puppies. Think of literally anything except her soft ski-

“Awesome!” you’re suddenly sitting crisscross beside him, facing him fully, “Okay, that’s- awesome. Cool. Cool, cool, cool,” were you just as flustered as he was? Was he reading this wrong? “The lady actually told us - okay, I know it’s stupid and boring so bear with me - but she told us to put them on all our pulse points. So that way, it… uh… it makes the perfume last longer.” 

He can’t get the smell out of his nose. Something so sweet, something so enticing, something so… you. The perfumes were fancy, but somehow, they were you. Smells of summer and spring and tooth-aching sweetness that was driving Eddie mad.

He’ll never be able to let you sleep in his bed again. He doesn’t want to consider what shameful, hormone-fueled decisions he would make if he had to experience his pillow smelling like that even when you were long gone. 

Get it together, Munson. 

“Makes sense,” he lies, still struggling to get his tongue to function properly. All he’s thinking about is trailing it over that sweet spot on your wrist now, lips sucking on every inch of skin you currently had exposed- Naked grandmas. Kicked puppies, “Is that all you needed? Can I take a nap now?” 

Hell, he’s torn between wanting you to stay and ushering you out of his trailer so he can have a few moments alone. Weighing the risks of escaping to the bathroom for a few minutes too long just to get his problem under control. 

He’s twenty, not fifteen. A girl’s perfume should not be affecting him this way. 

Your face falls ever so slightly, “Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry. Like I said, I know it’s boring-“

“It’s not boring,” he interrupts, realizing that he’s mere seconds away from genuinely hurting your feelings. Or perhaps he’s already there, having been a complete idiot. He still remembers your face the day he’d contained his reaction to your new bra — how he’d gone into autopilot and snapped the strap like some little boy on the playground just to play off how flustered it made him. You hadn’t admitted it to him, but his reaction had hurt you. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice, “The whole science behind it — it sounds pretty cool, honestly.” 

Nothing that made you so excited, so giddy, could ever be boring to him. He loved seeing you buzz with your emotions and expectancy. He just didn’t love the way his heart and mind seemed to run with every single, little, goddamn bone you tossed him. 

You were his best friend. He shouldn’t think of you like that. He couldn’t. 

“It is,” you light back up in the slightest, saucer eyes boring into his again. Not quite as animated as before, but not quite as deflated as you had been heading, “Actually- Can I ask another favor?”

Anything. 

“Sure, sweetheart,” his heart had finally slowed its pace, the reigns back in his control as the perfume lingered in the air but didn’t overwhelm him, “What’s up?” 

“So… the wrists aren’t the only pulse points you’re supposed to wear perfume on.” 

Oh, God. Where were you going with this?

“No?” he tries to tease, tries to smile at you. It’s fruitless — his heart has begun to pound again, “I sure hope it wouldn’t be. I mean, blood kind of rushes everywhere, isn’t that the point-“ 

“The neck,” you blurt out, making the rest of Eddie’s sentence disappear into the air, “The, uh, the neck is the other place. Well, not just the neck, it’s…” you trail off, twiddling with your thumbs for a second before you lift a hand to gather away any stray hairs from curtaining the side of your neck. You even go so far as to secure the hand behind your ear, “Behind the ears. You’re supposed to spray it behind your ears, too.”

“Okay…” he enunciates slowly, resisting the urge to bite his lip as he starts to catch up with where you’re going with this, and desperately hoping that he’s wrong. 

“Can you… Would you…” you pause and take a deep breath, eyes shutting for a second. When you open the back up, a new wave of determination is set around your pupils, “Eddie, can you smell my neck?” 

What sort of sick, twisted, wet dream am I living in right now? 

Eddie is suddenly convinced you never interrupted his attempt at a nap. He’s asleep right now, soundly curled into himself, and you’re still lounging casually with your magazine on the other side of his bed. That must be it, because there’s no way you’re actually offering him to press himself so closely into your vicinity as he’s only ever dreamed of. 

“What?” he weakly questions. 

If this is a dream, dear God, don’t let me wake up. 

“Can you smell my neck?” you repeat yourself with a little more confidence before pulling your best puppy dog eyes, “I just- I want to make sure it smells good. Everywhere.”  

Damn Nancy Wheeler for whatever journey of self-discovery she’d sent you on. Damn her, and damn the perfume lady, and damn Eddie for reaping such benefits. 

He should say no. He should really, really say no. 

He’s wearing goddamn grey sweatpants, he should say no. 

“S-Sure.” 

Famous last words. 

Your hair has already been moved, making it easier for Eddie when he leans forward at his waist. You lean in as well, jutting out your chin and angling your neck for his taking. 

It’s such a bad idea. 

The tip of his nose is bumping your skin again as his eyes flutter shut. He’s trying so hard to contain himself, to not make a fool of himself. But when he feels that softness again, when he’s being unraveled by warm notes of vanilla and patchouli, deep breaths of apple blossom of blackberry – he just breaks. 

He doesn’t realize that his lips have joined his nose in brushing up against your sweet spot until he hears you let out a shaky gasp, one that almost resembles a whine. 

His reaction should be to pull back. He should remove himself, apologize for going too far, stop before he’s fallen off the cliff himself. He doesn’t. 

Instead, he takes a moment of stillness as his head reels, overcome in the smell of your new perfume again and ears straining relentlessly to seek out another one of those pretty sounds. 

He wants to hear it again. He needs to know if it was a moan or a gasp, or nothing more than a ticklish breath. 

His lips pucker with intention this time. His nose trails up behind your ear, taking in the full bodied scent of the perfume on the skin as he places another chaste kiss against your pulse.

It’s racing. Your heartbeat is goddamn racing. 

The moment his lips connect, another gasp sounds. A sharp intake of breath that whistles so sweetly to his ears before you’re exhaling with a proper, albeit quiet, whimper. 

No amount of naked grandmas or kicked puppies can save him now. He’s a goner – he’s been a goner – and he leaps off that cliff full force now as he leans back and out of your space. 

Your eyes are shut. Eyelashes fluttering prettily, just barely brushing the skin beneath your eyes. 

He almost whispers out a gentle sweetheart as he stays close enough for you to feel his breath on that very same cheek, but when your eyes finally do open to meet his, he can’t get a single word out before his body moves to its own accord. 

His lips press to yours before he can overthink it.

He waits for the inevitable – for you to freeze up against him, for you to shove him off, for you to curse him out. He shouldn’t have done that. He should’ve asked for permission, he should have had more self-control. 

But you don’t. Instead, you take him by surprise and you kiss him back.

Instantly, without an inch of hesitation, your lips work in tangent with his. Parting and welcoming him as if they had been waiting for this moment longer than he could comprehend. Pressing back with just as much, if not more fervency as his do. You match his desperation every step of the way until you’ve both exhausted all the breath inside your lungs. He has no choice but to pull back, to part from you and gulp in oxygen before he makes any more bad decisions. 

Lord know he’s full of them when he’s suddenly gazing into your glossy eyes. 

“I’m sorry-” he immediately rushes out to apologize, but a sharp shake of your head halts him. 

“Don’t be,” you whisper, “I… Do it again.”

“What?” 

“Kiss me again. Please.”

Eddie isn’t in the business of making you beg; he never really can say no to you. 

He kisses you again. And again. And again. A collage of pecks and soft slipping, tasting your chapstick and somehow moving the two of you so that he’s back to his original position with his back against the wall, and you now straddling his lap. You hover, completely unaware of how much you’re affecting him. When you let his tongue slip into your mouth without any bartering, he ends up letting out a moan that slips right down your throat. His hands are still so hesitant, but when you reach down and encourage his palms to engulf wherever they please, he’s on a mission of exploration. Soft caresses to your thighs, from the ditch of your bent knees to the skin hardly hidden beneath the hem of your lounge shorts. They wind their way up the pathways of your hips, squeezing at the soft give of the flesh there before he continues upwards. Up, up, up – until they find home in the curve of your waist, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you impossibly close. 

That damn perfume doesn’t just linger, not anymore. With you pressed against him, with the way he’s wound so tightly around you, it drowns him. Vanilla, coffee, blackberry, apple blossoms. A multitude of scents he’s sure his plain nose can’t even pick up on, and that he doesn’t really care to name. All he cares about is the smell of you. Something new and something fancy, but so very you. 

“I-” you break from the kiss, “Can’t-” you smack another one on him, beginning to take initiative, “Believe-” the next one misses his mouth, hardly landing against the upturned corner, “It took-” your final kiss lands on his dimple before you pull back fully and cup his hands within your palms, still hovering and straddling his waist, “A stupid fucking perfume ruse to get you to kiss me.”

He’s lovedrunk, all slow blinks and dumb-founded smile as he looks up at you, hardly processing the words, “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” you squeeze his cheeks a little tighter in your touch, “I can’t believe I had to pull that whole stupid act of fluttering my lashes and oh, Eddie, can you smell my perfume for me? To make sure it smells good? To finally get you to just do something.” 

His head clears a little as the ghost of your kiss still buzzes on his lips, “Wait- what?” 

Your palms slide away, scratching at what scruff has gathered across his jaw line before your hands fully fall away, “You made me act like a damn fool, Eddie Munson.”

“It was all just an act?” 

“I can’t believe you were so oblivious.”

“You only made me do that so I’d kiss you?” 

“That,” you shrug, curling your hands into fists and gingerly placing them on his chest as his arms untangle from you slightly, only his knuckles resting on your waist now, “And the bra thing. And the whole thing when I bought all those chapsticks and couldn’t pick a favorite flavor.”

“They all tasted good,” he says, confused as he peers up at your faux annoyance, “I even tried them on for you-”

“I didn’t want you to try them on,” you whine, letting a few breathy laughs slip as you sit back, resting your weight entirely on his thighs and narrowly missing his boner you surely hadn’t noticed yet, “I wanted you to taste them off of me. I wanted you to make me put each one on, and kiss me stupid before you’d demand that I move onto the next one. I wanted to be the one to get your lips all sticky, not the fucking chapstick tubes themselves.”

“You-” Eddie’s mouth drops wide open, nearly wider than his eyes, “Hold on, you only brought that up so I’d fucking kiss you?” 

You nod as if it had been obvious, grinning wildly now, “God, you’re dense, Munson. I kept telling Nancy you’d figure it out eventually-”

“What does Nancy have to do with this?” 

“Nancy has been trying to help me concoct ways to get you to grow the balls and kiss me for months now. Although, to be fair, the bra thing had been Steve’s idea.” 

“Harrington?” Eddie gasps out in disbelief as you only throw your head back in laughter. It’s a beautiful sound, one that makes Eddie’s heart race even more painfully than the perfume had, “You went to Harrington for advice about me?”

When you lift your head back up to look at him, you’re all soft smiles and delighted eyes as you quietly admit, “I was getting kind of desperate here.” 

His chest heaves, finger unfurling from around your waist. 

“I was starting to think maybe you just didn’t like me bac-”

Without warning, Eddie’s hands are gripping your hips and he’s flipping positions, pinning you beneath him. He can’t wrap his head around it. You’d been wanting him to kiss you all this time. And he’d been a blind idiot. Snapping your bra straps, stealing away chapsticks and applying them himself when this entire time, he could have been living out his wildest fantasies. 

He doesn’t give you a chance to say anything more as he begins to attack you with kisses. One for every missed opportunity. No expanse of skin goes untouched as they graze over your lips, your cheeks, your chin, your neck – anywhere Eddie can access feels the pressure of his eagerness. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he curses himself over your giggles, coming up for air just to stare at you, “I could have- Oh my God. Sweetheart, I’m such a fucking idiot.” 

“You are,” you agree breathlessly with aching cheeks, “God, you are.” 

He balances himself on his forearms as he stays lifted above you, his hair forming a curtain to cut the two of you off from the rest of the world. 

You’re beautiful. Even more beautiful than that first day he’d met you in class, when you’d shushed him and all he did in return was make absolute heart eyes at you. 

His best friend. The person he’d be yearning and pining for for six long years. Who had been trying to get him to kiss her for over six months now. 

“I like you,” you confess, not breaking eye contact as a hand comes up to his cheek. He’s quick to turn his head, to let your palm press against him as he presses a kiss to your inner wrist, the perfume engulfing him again, “In case that wasn’t obvious.” 

He swallows hard, letting his lips remove themselves slowly from your skin and his nose to linger as it presses into the smooth skin, “I like you, too. Have for a few years now.”

“A few?”

“Okay, yeah- the whole time,” his words pull a wider grin from you, “Don’t look so smug. I’m not letting you live down this whole perfume bullshit scheme.” 

“And I’m not letting you live down going feral over some overpriced scented oils,” you retort, your cute snort cut short as your breath catches when he kisses your wrist again, “In all seriousness, though… Do you really think it smells good?” 

He takes the opportunity to finally lower his hips. Just enough so that his crotch is brushing against your inner thigh, “Yeah, I think you could say I think they smell very good.” 

Your hand travels back, caressing at his ear and sending a shiver down his spine before both of them latch behind his neck, prepared to pull him down into a kiss, “You got hard over some new perfumes, Munson? God, you’re easy.” 

“I am,” he doesn’t fight it as he lets you, not gravity, tug him downwards, “I am so easy when it comes to you, baby.” 

“Good thing I’m wearing one of those new bras, then,” you muse, placing far too quick of a kiss for his liking onto his lips before you tug him a bit lower, burying his face back in the side of your neck as you whisper in his ear, “Prove it.” 

Eddie should probably send a thank you card to Nancy Wheeler and the mall’s perfume lady. Not Harrington, though. Never Steve Harrington.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar

ghost's taglist: @emmaisgonnacry @figmentofquinn @bebe07011 @barbedwirebats @ayooooo0 @neverlearnedcivility @munson-enthusiast @digwhatudug @wow-cam @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @cancankiki @gothmingguk @nix-rose @thesesuggestedblognamesbegreat @chevelle724 @madaboutjoe @take-everything-you-can @josephquinnsfreckles @thebanisheddreamer @water-loos @dailyobsession @whenshelanded @happy-and-alone

join my taglist!

[natalie668]

Chapter 2 - Lost Girl

Warnings: will contain smut in future chapters, MFM, FM, sometimes more than 3 people lol. Violence (hello they’re vampires), mentions of drugs. (Paul smoking weed)

This story is going to be at least 30+ chapters. It’s still in its planning stages for the future but I love Lost boys (have since I was little) i need to let you all know that I’m a mother to 2 autistic children and a lot of my time is spent looking after them, but I will try and post at least weekly. Hope that’s ok with you all ❤️❤️ please feel free to post comments I’ll reply to every single one 🖤🖤

As we make our way through the crowds lingering across the boardwalk i can't help but to follow like a lost sheep. I have no clue where we're going but, but surely my soulmate can't be leading me to danger? That's why my legs willingly follow him as he makes his way towards a motorbike.

He gets on, and holds his hand out to me to take hold of, "come on, jump on." He says his eyes baring into my own.

I take a deep breath and pulling my pencil skirt upwards feeling rather self conscious, I get my leg over and secure my arms around his waist. This is my first time on a motorbike and my heart is in my throat. We begin to take off, he goes at a careful speed, we'd been driving for around 15 minutes before we came to a wooden looking house. We pull up the dirt path leading to the front of the home.

He kicks out the stand and slides off, his arms help me get off the bike, a smile now taking over his beautiful features. "This is my home, come on," he says as he leads me through the front door. "My mum should be home soon."

We make our way into what looks like a living room, there's a teenage boy sat on the sofa reading a Batman comic. I can't help but smile seeing a youngster reading.

He looks up from his comic, a frown marring his features, "why have you bought a girl home Mikey, moms not going to be happy." He practically finishes in sing song with a grin on his face.

He pushes his little brother by the shoulder, "Mom will be happy for me. Sammy; meet my soulmate - y/n."

Who i now know as Sam, his mouth opens wide like a gawping fish. He stutters, "Oh my god! Mikeys found his soulmate!?" He says practically vibrating on the spot with excitement. I can't help but to grin and smile at the kid. He seems so happy bless him.

I lean forward extending my hand, "it's nice to meet you Sammy,". We shake hands both of us grinning.

Michael wraps an arm around my shoulders, "well, I'm going to go get to know y/n some more, shout us when mums home." He says as we make our way up the stairs to what I can only assume is his bedroom.

We step into his bedroom and I take in the posters around jotted around on the walls. A single bed is the only thing to sit on in there. He sits himself down making himself comfy, I make my way over slipping my shoes off before climbing onto the bed.

We look at each other taking one another in, “So, what were you doing at the Board walk, you looked a bit lost. And I know I’ve never seen you there.” He says to me as I press my fingers to my lips, I can’t get over how good looking my soulmate is, he’s so handsome.

I look down at my hands, trying to think of what to say, whether to risk telling the truth and scaring my soulmate away or risking him getting me sent to a nut house. Oh sod it, what’s the worst that can happen.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” i say as i look up to him, “This morning I was in the year 2024, and I was on my way home from work, and I got hit by lightning and woke up on the sand in 1987.”

I peer up at, him waiting to see his reaction, peering up at him he seems shocked, obviously what else would you expect. “I promise I’m telling the truth, I know it sounds absolutely bonkers but it’s true.” I say as I look into his eyes, they seem to be taking in what I just said.

He leans forward, his fingers pressing to my cheek, he leans in and kisses my forehead, pulling me towards him. "I believe you, why would you lie about something like that." his chin is resting on the top of my head.

I lean in taking in his scent, I can't help but to feel safe in his embrace, snuggling against his chest. He smells me, I can hear his intake of breath breathing me in.

"You'll be ok love, I promise I'll take care of you forever." he says to me, nuzzling his face against me.

"Forever is a long time Michael, are you sure you can promise forever." i say to him grinning against his chest. I feel his chest vibrate with laughter.

"You'll find, we'll all be able to promise you forever, sweetheart." his fingers caress my hair, his fingers running through it.

I pull away from him, confused. "What do you mean we?," i say to him, does he know my other soulmates?

Michael is just about to speak when theres a knock against his bedroom door, "Come in," he says to the person at the door.

A beautiful blonde lady walks in, you hazard a guess that this woman is his mother. "Hi sweetie, it's lovely to finally meet my Michaels soulmate." she says as she rushes over and pulls me into a loving embrace. her warmness and nurturing nature reminds you of your own mother, a mother who would be in her 20s like yourself in 1987, the thought makes your head spin.

I lean into her hug, "Its lovely to meet you too," i say as she pulls back a huge loving smile on her face.

chapter 3

[hoejosatoru]

Crush

“Can you read my mind, I've been watching you.” 

Pairing: Fem!reader x Bonten! Mikey

Summary: You’re the secretary of Bonten and Mikey gets very jealous when Ran tries to take you out on a date.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Jealousy, Mikey fantasizes about shooting Ran lol, drinking, scratches/blood, bruising, possessiveness/jealousy, fingering, cream pie, squirting, sorta voyeurism if you stand on your head and squint, pet names like baby, angel, etc

You sat at your desk, a rich, dark mahogany, thumbing through the paperwork you would have to complete by the end of the day. Being a secretary at Bonten was unlike any other job you had. Paid a hell of lot better, too. You knew, though it was not what it seemed. When you were hired, you were told it was an office supply company. Well, you’ve been working there for nearly a year and you haven’t seen so much as a pencil being delivered. You kept your mouth shut, which kept the direct deposits coming every 2 weeks. That’s all that mattered.

Your lack of concern for what the men you worked for did was exactly why you still had the job. Mikey, the boss, never really bothered to learn the names of the secretaries. They came and went like the changing of tides. By the time he learned a name they were gone. He didn’t care enough to keep up. But your name he knew.

No secretary has lasted this long. They usually start asking too many questions, which leads to a very large severance package and a detailed description of what would happen to them if they ever shared about their time working there. So far it has proven to be a very effective method.

The second, and frankly more annoying, reason secretaries left was because of his asshole subordinates fucked around with them and broke their hearts. No matter how many times he’s told them not to shit where they eat, they can’t help themselves. Dogs, all of them. Sometimes Mikey felt like the only one who thought with his head instead of his dick. And the girls were all too eager to fall all over themselves for these shit men. It was all so high school and predictably pathetic.

And, predictably, Takeomi and Mochi had been the first to approach you. The age gap between them and the girls who worked there never seemed to phase them. Mikey rolled his eyes at how utterly shameless they were. But you said no to both of them. That was the first day Mikey bothered to read the nameplate on your desk. Y/n, he tucked it away in his brain.

Next was Sanzu. He asked you to come over to his place and test out some “product.” You politely declined. Smart girl, Mikey remembers thinking. The next was Rindou, another rejection. Then Koko, which was particularly unique since he rarely ever got involved with women at work. Mikey respected that about him. Yet it was still no.

Mikey’s interest in you was thoroughly piqued at this point. No woman has ever lasted this long, nor turned down so many of his subordinates. He chuckled each time one of them walked into the board room with a dejected face. The only ones who had not taken a crack at it were Ran and Kaku and as Mikey listened to Ran chat you up, he realized that was about to change.

Mikey swirled the whiskey in his glass, rolling his eyes at how Ran tried to flirt. He was so sleazy. Out of all his subordinates, Mikey liked Ran the least. He was smug, obnoxious, and loved walking the line of insubordination. Mikey could always feel his eyes on him during meetings and knew he wished he could take him place. Over my dead fucking body, Mikey thought. At times Mikey wished he could just toss Ran out, but he and Rindou were a package deal. Regrettably, he could not stand to lose both of them. So he grit his teeth and beared it.

“So when can I take you out?” Ran asked.

“Oh, I don’t know…” Mikey smiled, sipping his drink. He couldn’t wait to see Ran’s stupid fucking face after you rejected him.

Ran pressed on, “A pretty girl like you deserves to be taken out somewhere nice. Bet you look even better all dressed up.”

“You don’t think I look nice now?” you countered. Mikey leaned forward in his seat, loving that you were giving him an attitude. He didn’t wanna miss a second of it. He downed the last drop of whiskey.

“‘Course you do darling.” Mikey could practically hear Ran’s slick grin. “That’s why I’d love to see you this Saturday. It’s torture waiting the whole weekend to see you again.” Mikey braced for your answer.

“Okay.” The air escaped his lungs in a rush. Okay? Okay?! How could you have said no to everyone, but yes to Ran. Mikey didn’t realize he was gripping his glass so tight until it shattered in his hand. He didn’t bother to clean the glass shards off the table even as the other members started to file into the board room. They gave him a quizzical look, but knew better than to ask.

Ran filed in last, the smuggest smile on his face. Hatred burned through Mikey more than the whiskey did. “Looks like I’ll be keeping y/n company Saturday,” he announced after shutting the door behind him.

“No fucking way,” Takeomi replied. Sanzu groaned and passed money to Rindou. Rindou had known better than to bet against Ran when it came to women.

“Why the fuck did she say yes to you?” Koko asked exactly what Mikey was thinking. The thought of promoting Koko passed vaguely through the storm of Mikey’s mind.

“You all ever consider I might just be better than you?” Ran asked, hands collapsed behind his head like an asshole. He caught Mikey’s eye, picking up on the contempt rolling off of him. “Except you of course, boss.”

“Of course,” Mikey replied icily. He nodded to Sanzu to start taking over the meeting because he frankly couldn’t think straight. Ran looked so fucking smug it made him sick to his stomach. He fantasized about pulling the gun he had under the table out and blowing his brains out. Even he knew that would be a bit drastic.

He had to look away from Ran, or he knew his anger would consume him. Yet he couldn’t shut his thoughts off. He knew what a womanizing sleaze Ran was, knew that on Monday he would come back to this very room and tell them all, in detail, what he did to you. What you looked like, how you felt, how you tasted. Ran always shared the sordid details of his conquests in bed. Mikey found this habit irritating on most days, but with you? Oh, he would definitely put a bullet in him. He could not have Ran defile you.

It dawned on Mikey, through his haze of hatred, that he was jealous. That he wanted you for himself. Somehow he had let his interest in you develop into a crush. He was going to make you his. He sat back in his chair and started planning.

***

A knock came at your apartment door about an hour earlier than expected. Funny, you didn’t expect Ran to be the type of man to be early. You were about half ready. Your makeup was done, but your hair was unstyled . You were in the process of trying on different dresses when you heard him at the door. Leave it to Ran to arrive when you had on the most revealing dress of them all.

But when you open the door, it was not a tall lilac-haired man who greeted you it was-

“Mikey?” You were too surprised to address him properly. “What are you doing here?”

“May I?” He ignored your question, gesturing to the inside of your place. You stepped aside, allowing him in. A million questions popped up in your mind that you couldn’t focus on because he looked so fucking good. He was dressed in sleek black pants and a silky black button down. A gold chain glistened against his chest. It was simple, but you reckoned it cost more than most of your wardrobe.

He sat down comfortably on one of your living room chairs. It was strange seeing him here. Out of place like when it rains, but the sun is still shining. He looked at you, eyes unreadable.

“I’m going to get us some drinks,” you announced, disappearing into the kitchen. There was a flutter in your stomach, one you weren’t entirely sure was excitement or fear. You knew Mikey was here for a reason and until you knew why, you’d have to settle for being somewhere in the middle.

Mikey observed you coolly as you placed a glass of whiskey, neat, in front of him. He noticed your glass was the same. He took a sip. It was his favorite.

The quizzical look he gave you did not go unnoticed. “I saw you drink it and was curious.” You took a sip and smiled, settling into the seat across from him. “You have good taste.”

Mikey secretly loved that you’d been observing him. He was impressed that he hadn’t even picked up on it. But he loved most the idea of you thinking of him when he wasn’t around. That you went to the store, bought a bottle just because of him, and drank here, in your own space. He became a part of your life outside of work without even trying. He took another sip of the whiskey, suddenly loving it even more.

“What do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

Mikey looked you and down, really taking you in for the first time since he got here. The dress you had on left little to the imagination, yet he found himself wanting to rip it off, needing to see what was underneath. He loathed the idea of Ran seeing you dressed like this, knowing he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you. Your lips were lacquered, making them look exceptionally plush. He wanted to bite into them, wanted to hear you gasp when he did.

“Do you like Ran?” No point in dragging things out. He wasn’t a very patient man, especially not with you looking like that.

You blinked, but did not seem shocked by the question. “Is this some sort of test?”

Mikey considered that. There was an answer he was hoping for, surely, but he also knew he wasn’t going to hurt you if he didn’t get it. A luxury he rarely afforded others. He would just be very, very disappointed. “It’s just a question.”

“Any woman who likes Ran is an idiot,” you answered. The twitch up at the corner of Mikey’s mouth told you that you answered correctly. “You don’t like him, either.” That was not a question

“Not particularly, no,” Mikey replied, sipping, “but I’m more interested in your thoughts of him.” The more he spoke with you, the more he felt drawn to you. You were smart and observant. If you were afraid or uncomfortable with his presence, you didn’t show it. Not many people were so calm around him. He wondered briefly if your talents were being wasted as a secretary, but he lost the thought as you began to speak again.

“Ran is not very…” you took a sip, letting the whiskey roll around your tongue as you considered your words, “interesting.”

“No?” Mikey could hardly hide his amusement. Any prickles of fear you felt were melting away. You played this exactly right.

“No,” you confirmed, “men like him are a dime a dozen. All sweet talk and full of shit. I know the second I gave him what he wanted he’d leave.” You finished, draining your glass, setting it down on the coffee table between the two of you. There was a hint of challenge in your eyes as you looked at Mikey. “You, on the other hand, are very interesting.”

Mikey finishedhis  drink, relishing your words. He loved that he intrinsically had something Ran did not, something that sparked desire in you. He could practically feel it coming off you in waves. He knew if he slid his hands between your thighs you’d be soaked. Still he wanted to hear you say it. Savor this moment a little longer. “How so?” He set his glass down, looking at you. Challenge accepted.

You stretched lazily, your dress riding up impossibly higher. Mikey was dying to know what your thighs felt like wrapped around him. “Well for starters you didn’t descend on me like a starved animal,” you said. “Either everyone who works for you gets no pussy or they’re terminally horny. I’m not sure which is worse.”

Mikey smiled at your assessment of his subordinates. You certainly were not wrong.

“But really what I found most fascinating is how they treat you. Most men aren’t afraid of someone of your… stature.” You paused, making sure you weren’t stepping on any land mines.

Typically, Mikey hated when someone commented on his size. They always came with the implication that he was inferior. However, he did not think that was the direction you were going. He nodded, allowing you to continue.

“Men love their pissing contests. They’re such visual creatures that they end up blinding themselves,” you explained. “Men think size is everything.” You smiled coyly. “Yet all these men fear you. You command their respect and unequivocal loyalty without even having to try. That tells me there is so much more to you than meets the eye. And that is very interesting.”

Your appraisal of him made Mikey’s whole body buzz with desire. His cock throbbed wanting to be buried inside you; his fingers twitched wanting to squeeze your flesh. But he still needed to know. “So why did you say yes to Ran?”

Your head fell back as you laughed, as if you shared an inside joke. “Oh, Manjiro,” you sighed, “Because no man is immune to jealousy.”

If he hadn’t been so turned on by the way you said his name - his real name - it wouldn’t have taken him the extra second to process what you meant. You knew he’d be jealous if you went out with Ran. You used his subordinate like a pawn. It was never Ran you were interested in, it was alway him. Oh, he might just be in love.

“Come here.” You obeyed him immediately, much to his delight, crossing the small space between the two of you. When you were just a half step away Mikey sprung up, unable to wait another second without touching you. His lips found yours, loving how his favorite whiskey tasted on you. He bit into your soft lower lip, savoring the little moan that escaped. Even better than he imagined. Your thigh inched up his side and he gripped it tight, squeezing the plush flesh. He pulled away for a second to breathlessly state, “Jump.”

You wrapped your legs around him easily. Your dress fully hiked up, revealing burgundy lace panties. He smiled; it’s his favorite color. Your clothed pussy was pressed against his hard on, making him damn near feral. He carried you with ease to your bedroom. He was small, sure, but he was strong.

Mikey dropped you on bed, immediately climbing on top of you. You heard the tearing of fabric as he, quite literally, ripped the dress off your body. “Mikey!” you huffed.

He was unphased by your vexation. “I’ll buy you another one.” His lips were on yours again, preventing any further complaint. He squeezed your exposed breast, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You gasped, pressing into his touch. “So sensitive.” A bemused smile played at his lips as he kissed down your neck.

You slid your hands under his shirt, feeling the toned muscles of his torso. You yanked open the shirt from the inside, causing the top two buttons to fly off. Mikey chuckled. “Desperate too, huh? If you want my shirt off, baby all you gotta do is ask.” He reached back with one hand pulling the shirt off with ease and tossing it to the floor by your tattered dress. While he was at it, he undid the button of his pants, revealing the waistband of his boxers. You hooked your finger into them, pulling him closer to you. He kicked off the pants without missing a beat.

You reached down to squeeze his cock, but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head. “And greedy? Someone’s gotta teach you to behave.” He nipped at your clavicle. Mikey’s free hand slid down beneath your underwear. He let his fingers slip through your slick, loving how wet you got for him already. He teased your clit before pumping his fingers inside you, then repeated it. You squirmed beneath him, unable to break the vice grip he had on your wrists.

“Mikey - fuck, wanna t-touch-nngh.” He rubbed on your clit as you tried to speak, making it impossible to get the words out.

“What was that angel? Couldn’t understand you,” he feigned confusion.

“Wanna- oh-” he rubbed your g-spot. “Touch you please. Let me.” You babbled, breathless. You tried grinding your hips against him, but Mikey leaned his weight against you, immobilizing you.

“You can touch me once you’ve cum all over my fingers.” His middle two fingers were fucking you deep and fast. He curled his fingers, pressing the spot that made you go dumb. He marveled at the way you squirmed and gasped, loving that he could get you like that with just his fingers. The base of his palm brushed against your clit with each thrust of his fingers inside you. The coil in your stomach snapped, your pussy clenching around his fingers as you moaned his name. “Good fucking girl.”

Mikey released your wrists and your hands flew to his neck, pulling him for a deep, sloppy kiss. One of your hands went down, stroking his rock-hard cock through his underwear. Mikey groaned into your lips. “Fuck me, Mikey, want all of you.” You felt him throb at your words.

Mikey’s eyes were dark with lust as he took in the sight of you: flushed cheeks, hair a mess on the pillow, makeup smudged, begging for him. How could he deny you? “Gonna fuck you so good, baby.” He kicked off his boxers. He took his cock in his hand, pumping a few times. “And you’re going to scream my name. My real name. Got it?” You nodded, earning a slap on your clit. You yelped. “You speak when I ask you a question.”

“Yes, Manjiro,” you purred, running a finger along the tattoo you knew he had on the back of his neck. Mikey ran his cock through your soaked lips, letting his precum mix with your arousal. Each time his cock nudged your clit you jumped. He’d tease you all day if his balls weren’t aching so bad.

Your nails dug into his back as his cock pressed into you. “Fuck Mi-Manjiro, ‘s so big.”  You weren’t expecting such a stretch, but god were you wrong.

“Pussy so tight for me.” Mikey gripped the sheets next to your head to steady himself. He bottom out with a low groan. Mikey rocked his hips into you slow, feeling each little clench of your pussy. “So needy squeezing me like that. Never had dick like this, huh?”

“No, never,” you babble, “So fucking good.” Mikey quickened his pace, needing to see come undone again, to feel your pussy cum all over his cock. He hooked a hand under your knee, pressing it up to your chest. The deeper angle had you gasping. “Oh, Manjiro.”

“That’s right, y/n, who’s making you feel this good?” His grip tightened around your thigh, surely to leave a bruise.

“You Manjiro, only you,” you responded. So obedient, he thought. He silently rewarded that by rubbing circles over your sensitive clit. The unexpected sensation pushed you over the edge again, your pussy clenching against his cock. The pleasure spreading through your body was white hot. Mikey didn’t let up on your clit, making the pleasure borderline unbearable. You felt a strange sensation, gasping. “Wait too muc-ohh fuck.” Your nails dug into his pack, drawing blood as your pussy gushed, soaking Mikey.

“Fucking hell,” Mikey moaned, losing his composure. He let his head fall back as he came, filling your aching pussy with his release. Your pussy was fucking heavenly, making him cum harder than he has in a long time.

“What the fuck?” A voice made you jump. You peaked over Mikey's shoulder, eyes widening as you found Ran standing in your doorway. Through the fog in your brain you realized Mikey never locked the door after coming. This was purposeful on his part, of course. He knew Ran couldn’t resist a pretty girl’s unlocked door. Mikey was smug and beaming. He hoped Ran got to see you squirting for him. It would be the first and only time he’d allow him to see you like this. The look on his face was so worth it.

“Oh? Did you have plans?” Mikey asked meanly.

“Asshole,” Ran stormed off. Normally, Mikey would never let Ran get away with speaking to him like that, but he was too high on fucking you and his plan working perfectly. Plus, he knew when Ran didn’t have much to say it meant he was really upset. Mission accomplished.

But of course, Mikey can never leave well enough alone. That Monday you found a little gift wrapped box on your desk. It contained a gold necklace with “Manjiro” in script and a note telling you to join the board meeting at 1pm. Mikey sat you on his lap, name shining around your throat, claiming you for all his subordinates to see. He’s never seen Ran look so pissed. He gave your ass a squeeze, thinking of everything he was going to do to you on that table the second the meeting ended.

[flowerui]

♫ three little words (dedicate them to me), cyj

fluff, 4.8k words ୨୧ oh my god they were roommates :0 sorry to any academic weapons reading, im projecting a bit as an academic failure lol

wherein it only takes you about twenty-nine years to realize you're in love with your best friend... at least you got there!

꒰ requested. gender neutral reader (no pronouns or gendered terms used), reader is younger, unspecified age difference (but its implied that theyre very close in age), childhood friends to lovers, nonidol au, roommates, idiots in love, time skips, aging up, alcohol/drinking, a bit dialogue heavy, vomit is mentioned a few times, friend group ot4 ꒱

It’s hard to recall a time without Yeonjun; he appeared one day and stuck to you, almost as if he were a stubborn thorn in your side (said endearingly, of course).

It must’ve been when you were still in kindergarten—right, Yeonjun and his parents had moved in next door, and your moms both became friends and arranged a play date. Yeonjun had brought his PlayStation over and let you play it with him, so, obviously, to five-year-old you, that made the two of you best friends right away.

“Are you almost done?” Yeonjun bemoans from your bedroom floor, urging you to look up from your piles of textbooks and worksheets finally.

“No, I told you I needed to study and that you should go to your own house, you bum. Just ‘cause you don’t give a shit about your education doesn't mean I don’t.”

“You almost flunked last year. And you’re only studying because your mom saw you got a three out of a hundred on your algebra test,” Yeonjun deadpans, “how do you even score that bad?” Ugh, lucky, naturally academically gifted asshole. You roll your eyes and toss a pencil at his stupid face.

“Whatever,” you grumble, it’s not your fault you can’t be an academic weapon, and that school is whooping your ass instead with academics as a weapon. “I feel like my brain is about to start leaking out of my ears anyway, wanna go to yours?”

Yeonjun grins, sitting up from your floor with a start, finally regaining some of his earlier excitement before he had to wait nearly four hours (all of which were spent pestering you) while you attempted to study. “I ditched school yesterday to get a copy of Resident Evil 4 from GameStop.”

“What the hell—and you didn’t invite me?” you whine, “That’s cold, you better let me try it first.”

It’s hours later into the evening when you’re watching Yeonjun attempt to get through the wretched cabin section that you died approximately… thirteen times trying to get through, that he says, “You remember that guy, Taehyun, right? In my AP History class.”

“Mhm,” you hum, blinking your bleary eyes at Yeonjun’s TV screen from your very comfortable spot on his couch.

“He doesn’t usually talk a whole lot to me, but today, I couldn’t get him to shut up,” Yeonjun huffs a laugh as he maneuvers the character, Leon, up the stairs on screen, seemingly making it farther than you could. “He was complaining though, ‘cause he was partnered with this person who was into me. He couldn’t get any work done, they were just bugging him about me.”

You tear your focus from the TV to look at the side of Yeonjun’s face, you can see part of his furrowed brow and pursed lips. “Oh.”

It doesn’t surprise you that a lot of people seem to be interested in Yeonjun at school. In middle school, people started coming up to you, asking if you’d put in a good word for them with Yeonjun, because they ‘like-liked’ him, and you were his best friend. Then, it was at the end of eighth grade that you started telling those people to grow a pair and talk to him themselves.

You suppose you kind of understand. Yeonjun’s nice when he’s not being a little shit… and he’s not horrible to look at, one might even say he’s good-looking.

“Are you into them?” The question seems to roll off your tongue easily, but you’re not even sure why you asked, you don’t think you want to know. For some reason, thinking about it churns your stomach a bit.

“...No, I mean, they’re pretty, but,” Yeonjun sighs, tossing his controller to the side as he dies a second time. “they seem kinda… much. I dunno, Taehyun said they literally wouldn’t talk to him about anything besides me the entire class. It kinda weirded me out.”

“Hm, yeah.” You hum, a weird feeling of… relief washing over you. Yeonjun’s mom comes in to ask if you’re staying for dinner before you can think about it too hard.

Later that night, when you’re stuck staring blankly at your ceiling, you decide you were just relieved that Yeonjun wasn’t going to end up with some overly possessive weirdo. It’d suck to lose your best friend that way.

“Please do not throw up, because if you throw up, then I’m gonna throw up.”

“I’m not gonna throw up,” Yeonjun insists, but it doesn’t sound all too credible with the way he slurs his words, maybe you’ve also had too much to drink, but you swear he looks a little green. “I… am perfectly fine, thank you very much.”

“Uhuh.”

“Don’t ‘uhuh’ me,” Yeonjun grumbles with an attempted glare, you find that you can’t take him all too seriously, though; the flush on his cheeks, his inability to keep his eyes open for more than five seconds, and his perpetual pout make it all too difficult. “Oh, I—I think I’m gonna hurl.” He braces himself against the bar, eyes suddenly more awake.

That would be the reason you end up in a grimy bathroom on your twenty-first, making sure your best friend’s hair is out of the way as he empties the contents of his stomach into a toilet bowl.

“Why’d you drink so much, you know you’re a lightweight.” You ask when Yeonjun seems to be done, frowning as you wipe off his mouth with a paper towel.

“Am not,” he protests petulantly. “I was just—I just felt like it ‘cause I thought it’d make me feel better ‘nd I could stop thinking about other shit.”

“Did something happen?”

“...I stopped seeing that person I told you about.”

“Why? I thought it was going well?” ‘Well’ might be a bit of an overstatement. Like most of Yeonjun’s partners, you didn’t hear a whole lot about this new one, met them once for a brief moment, then didn’t hear of them again. It seems to be a common theme in Yeonjun’s relationships—his fleeting interest, you haven’t figured out if you should say anything about it.

“It was just, um. ‘M not over someone…. I didn’t feel right staying in a relationship knowing I’m still not over someone else.”

Oddly enough, that felt rather sobering to hear. You hum, stomach feeling a little off—you hope you aren’t going to throw up next… “You haven’t told me about that, wanna talk about it? It might feel better than drinking too much and throwing up in a disgusting bathroom. Don’t quote me on that, though.”

Yeonjun blinks slowly, then chuckles, “I’ll tell you about it some other time, I just really want to be in bed right now.”

Instead of getting an Uber or something, you trudge down the sidewalk with a clingier-than-usual Yeonjun, who barely manages to walk in a straight line. You internally celebrate when your apartment building comes into view; one of you seriously needs to get a car.

You have to convince Yeonjun to shower before you, almost like a petulant child. 

And apparently, wanting to be in bed means taking up most of your mattress and hogging your blankets for the night, because when you finish showering, you return to your room to find your bed occupied. You could just steal Yeonjun’s bed for the night… but you end up just crawling into bed beside him, listlessly trying to reclaim your covers.

He never ended up telling you about this mystery person he’s not over.

“I just don’t think it’s going to work out.” You sigh.

“But why? I thought things between us were going great, I—”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t see this relationship progressing any further.”

“But, I—I told my mom about you! You can’t leave me, I love you!”

“Ugh, you asshole,” you cry out as Yeonjun pretends to cry hysterically and shakes you by your shoulders, “You’re supposed to be taking this seriously and helping me!”

Yeonjun cackles as you shove him away, “I mean he could react like that, couldn’t he?” Then, he sighs and places his hands on your shoulders—not shaking you this time. “Okay, seriously, it’s going to be fine, you’ll be in a public space, so worst case scenario, he embarrasses himself.”

“You’re right… ugh, I’m gonna be late.”

“You’re the one who wanted to rehearse the conversation again.”

Before sending you off, Yeonjun smushes your face, cooing, “Okay, go dump your boyfriend, my duckling, I’ll be waiting here with takeout and beer.”

“You are a grown-ass man.” You deadpan before you’re finally off.

It’s been a good few months since you started seeing this new guy—his name’s Mark, you realized you liked him enough to make things more official after several good dates. But, you’ve already been considering breaking things off with him for a while now; you seem to have this recurring issue when it comes to relationships… You just can’t seem to envision a future that includes your partner, even when it’s going well you ultimately lose interest.

Mark seems like a good guy, too, which makes you feel worse, but it’d be even worse to just lead him on, right? That’s what you continue reminding yourself as you trudge into a nice café that will be tainted by the memory of you dumping a nice guy for the rest of your life. You’ll never be able to enjoy the sweet treats of ‘Arcadia’ ever again.

“Hey, there you are,” Mark smiles as you take the seat across from him.

“Yeah, uh, sorry, I had to help my roommate out.” A fib, even though your mother tells you honesty is the best policy. Well, she lied about Santa and the tooth fairy; besides, your fib sounds nicer than ‘I was rehearsing how to break up with you with my best friend’.

“No worries.”

“Um,” it’s better to just get it over with, you remind yourself, just rip the bandaid off, “so, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Uh oh, that doesn’t sound too good,” Mark chuckles, then clears his throat and continues when you don’t laugh, “What’s up?”

With a deep breath, you let it spill out all at once, “I don’t think this is going to work out, I just don’t see us—this relationship going any further. I’m sorry and I hope you can understand.” Okay, that wasn’t too scary, if you’re ignoring your shaky, clammy palms against your knees.

Mark nods, then looks down at his lap, then back at you, “I guess I should’ve seen it coming, I mean, I’ve seen the way you and your roommate look at each other.”

“Uh… you what?”

“You don’t have to play dumb about it, it’s obvious the both of you are in love. Guess I just liked you so much I hoped I could change your mind.” Mark sighs, “I think I’m gonna… go, sorry.” He says, then leaves you to spiral.

‘Obvious the both of you are in love’? You and Yeonjun? That’s ridiculous, right?

Leaving what was once your favorite café in a daze, you’re suddenly glad that you’d decided to walk instead of drive; you barely register entering your apartment complex, and unlocking your door.

“Hey,” Yeonjun is on the couch, takeout and a pack of beer spread on the coffee table as promised, “how’d it go?”

“It went fine,” you say with a smile that doesn’t quite make its way to your eyes, “he took it as well as he could have.” It’s weird, that you don’t just word vomit out every small detail, like you tend to with Yeonjun. But somehow, something about divulging everything feels weirder, so in a rare twist of events, you keep quiet.

Seemingly taking the hint that that’s going to be all you say for the time being, Yeonjun changes the topic, “Go change so we can eat, the new episode of The Vampire Diaries is literally about to start in like two seconds.”

“What the hell! I didn’t think I was gone for that long!” You shriek and make a run for it to your room to change out of your outside clothes.

Yeonjun snorts when you return, plopping onto the couch while trying to catch your breath. “I lied, there’s still like half an hour.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you hiss, and pummel him with the nearest throw pillow.

“I’m starting to think I’m gonna end up alone,” with a grunt, you tug your blanket up higher, “why’re we both so bad at relationships?”

“Rude,” Yeonjun flicks your forehead, and if you weren’t so cozy, full of food, and three cans of beer drunker, you might’ve sat up to take your revenge. But alas, moving even a mere inch feels like a herculean effort.

“You’re rude,” you stick your tongue out at him childishly. “Y’know I didn’t mean it like that, though, right?”

“I know.”

“Mm. Maybe…” You focus your bleary eyes on Yeonjun’s face above you. Even from this unfortunate angle, from where your head rests on his lap, he looks so… “If we’re not… If we’re still single by the time we’re thirty-four, I think we should just marry each other.”

Yeonjun laughs, “Okay, I think it’s bedtime, don’t you have work in the morning?”

If you hadn’t fallen asleep right then, you might’ve clapped back with a witty response, or you might’ve sat up, and looked at Yeonjun dead in the eyes and told him that you were serious.

“No, Mom, I am still not in a relationship,” you pause, then sigh, “Yes, I know I’m not getting any younger. And, no, I’m not gonna—wait, what?”

“You heard me, I asked when you’re going to give in and just marry Yeonjun. I like him, he’d be a nice son-in-law, he practically already is at this point!”

Only mothers would have the audacity. You have to pull your phone away from your ear to stare at the outgoing call screen in astonishment. “What… are you talking about?” You ask when you bring your phone back to your ear.

“Oh, c’mon. You’ve been living together since you were what, nineteen? Neither of you dates anymore, you spend all your free time together…You may as well get hitched at this point, instead of denying your poor mother the opportunity of watching her child get married any longer.”

You perk up at the call of your name, seeing two of your coworkers rush over, “Hey—random question—how early do you think is too early to get engaged? Lia’s only been with her partner for like three months, and they’re already engaged! You’ve been with your boyfriend for years, right? And neither of you has proposed?”

“Uh? My… boyfriend?”

“Yeah? Your boyfriend, his name’s Yeonjun, right?”

“Oh, he’s not my… He’s just my best friend.” You’re not sure what’s more embarrassing, the fact that all this time, it seemed like you and Yeonjun were dating, or having to tell two of your coworkers that you are actually painfully single. It doesn’t make it any better that the majority of your coworkers, while nice, are known for gossiping—all mostly harmless.

You expect your mother to make you feel bad about your relationship status (out of love), but not your coworkers.

“It’s weird, lately, I’ve realized that people think me and Yeonjun are together…? My mom even told me to just go and marry him, like?”

“Oh, you poor sweet summer child…”

“Have you still seriously not realized?” Taehyun pipes up beside Kai who regards you with a pitiful look. What’s up with everyone lately? You’re starting to feel like you’re the only one missing something.

“Realized what?”

“Oh, you’re hopeless.” Taehyun laments, looking as if he’s about ready to tear his hair out or reach across the dining table to knock some sense into you.

Ideally, you’d like to think you’re not at all oblivious. But, after many strange occurrences, you can’t help but consider: that you’ve never properly thought of Yeonjun that way—in a romantic sense. He’s always just been Yeonjun; the only person who you know for a fact you can trust with anything, and the only person who will stick with you despite all of your bullshit, like a stubborn thorn you can’t seem to be rid of (not that that’s an issue). He’s your everything, really.

When you imagine your future, you always see him fit in there somehow—but it occurs to you that as someone who’s never had a complete interest in marriage, or any romantic relationships for a long time for that matter, you could imagine walking down the aisle with Yeonjun, and more. Not only that, but you like imagining it.

Oh.

How dense can one be to fail to realize they’ve been in love with their best friend all this time? After nearly three decades of friendship, it’s seriously taken you this long to get to this conclusion? All those failed relationships you tried so hard to make work, it was all for nothing, because you couldn’t realize what you felt for what you already had! So much time wasted…

“Are you feeling okay?” Yeonjun apparates beside you, a palm carefully tracing circles over your upper back.

You feel bad for how you jolt away from him, seeing the surprise and mild hurt pass over his features in a split second. If you didn’t know Yeonjun like the back of your hand, you might’ve missed it. “...Sorry, I dunno—I’ve been kind of out of it lately, I think I just need to relax.”

“You haven’t been overworking yourself again, have you?”

“No…”

Yeonjun gives you a look as though he doesn’t quite believe you, but drops it. This time, you don’t jump away like frightened prey when he touches you—wraps around your side. “Let’s watch something tonight? I’ve been hearing about this new Kdrama called ‘My Demon’.”

“That sounds straight out of Wattpad… I’ll order the food.”

“Happy birthday,” Yeonjun sings as he saunters into your bedroom at… way too early in the morning. But all’s forgiven with the realization he comes bearing gifts—food. “What’s that, thirty-four punches I’m gonna have to give you, now? Fuck, you’re old,” he says as he sets down a delectable-looking plate of your favorite breakfast on your nightstand.

“Shut up, you’re older than me.” You narrow your eyes, sitting up to reach for your birthday breakfast.

“And if you punch me thirty-four times, you will not live to see another day, Choi.”

Getting older has meant that your birthdays have become a lot less eventful, but you haven’t quite minded it. They’re spent with your favorite person, anyway, so no complaints on your end.

Yet, somehow, you end up on a beach on the night of your birthday, sitting on a beach towel Yeonjun had neatly spread out and admiring the night sky. You’d had a simple plan to laze around at home all day, eat something good for dinner, drink a little more than you should, and then sleep like the dead. However, Yeonjun had other plans when he’d announced the night before that he was taking you on a day trip the next morning. ‘It’s only a six-hour drive’, he’d said, because he’s insane.

You suppose you had a little more to your original plan… you guess you also intended to profess your newly realized love for your best friend, and potentially ruin about twenty-nine years of friendship if things happened to go wayward. Well, you still intend on getting that over with.

“Happy birthday,” Yeonjun says once more, as he returns from the car with an unopened bottle of wine and two wine glasses. Huh, you guess that’s why he took so long to grab something to drink from the ‘cooler’, actually... do either of you even own a cooler? “Better appreciate this wine, it was pricey.”

“I distinctly recall telling you not to spend much on me this year,” you sigh, but you’re staring down the bottle, “and you already arranged this impromptu trip.”

“Well, I wanted to, it’s not every day you turn thirty-four.” Yeonjun doesn’t add anything else, as he hands you the bottle of wine; you decide not to call out how he can’t meet your eyes properly.

Cabernet Sauvignon 1999, the bottle reads. You don’t know much about wine—you’re not that old yet—just that it usually tastes good. “Is it good? I don’t think I’ve tried Cabernet Sauvignon, have I?”

“You haven’t, I think you’ll like it. It would’ve gone well with dinner.”

You hum, taking a corkscrew handed to you, as Yeonjun takes a seat beside you.

A couple of glasses later, you blurt, “Thanks. For this—the trip, dinner. And the wine. I like it a lot.” It’s not quite what you’d meant to say, in such a stilted manner. You guess you need a little more liquid courage, as you pour yourself another glass.

“I can tell, that’s like your third glass.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, as Yeonjun snorts into his glass. Cheeks warming, you start internally motivating yourself—if being alive for thirty-four years has taught you anything, it’s that everything’s worth a shot. You miss a hundred of the shots you don’t take… or whatever the saying is. “Do you remember that time I said we should just marry each other if we’re still single by thirty-four?”

After a pause, Yeonjun raises a brow, “Yes?”

“I’m surprised you remember that, considering you passed out right after… Are you saying we should get married, then?” Something passes over his features before he turns to you, and laughs something that isn’t exactly humorous, “I think that might be enough wine for you.”

“I’ve only had two glasses.”

“Two-and-a-half,” you correct after glancing down at your half-full glass. “I’m not drunk, maybe a teensy bit tipsy, but—fuck, that’s not the point.”

“What is the point you’re trying to make then? Yeonjun laughs, it almost looks like that familiar glint has returned to his eyes. You’d appreciate it if you weren’t about to implode.

“I, uh,” you clear your throat. Yeonjun continues to regard you with amusement; you vaguely wonder if he’ll still be amused once you manage to get the words—your confession out, or if you’ll go and ruin everything because of some stupid feelings. “Fuck, this is kinda difficult.”

“Okay, um,” maintaining eye contact is a test of your mental strength, which is why you avert your gaze even though you’ve turned to face Yeonjun, as you utter your next sentence, “So, it’s taken me an embarrassingly long time to realize that I’ve, uh, sort of, kind of been in love with you for probably forever. No, I—”

“I’m in love with you,” you rephrase more confidently, yet you end up shrinking in on yourself when the only response you receive is Yeonjun blinking blankly at you. “So, um, you could say something… right about now. Like, you hate me and are kicking me out? Well, ideally, you could say that you feel the same and—”

“Breathe,” Yeonjun reaches over to squeeze your clammy hand. Taking a breath as instructed, you realize you have not been breathing properly since you began speaking. “I was just—you’re being serious? You aren’t just drunk, and you aren’t fucking with me?”

“Two-and-a-half glasses, I’m tipsy at worst,” you reiterate, “and I’m not fucking with you either.”

“Oh.” Yeonjun breathes, which does nothing to assuage the anxiety that feels like it might have colored your face pallid, as it incessantly knocks against your ribcage.

“Oh? C’mon man, I just confessed my love to you, give me a little more than ‘Oh’, I’m nervous as shit right now.”

“Sorry, I was just…” Yeonjun laughs, the asshole laughs. “We really are best friends, huh? I spent all week trying to figure out how to make your birthday special, and confess my love to you at the end of the night. And here you are, beating me to it.”

“You… oh.”

“C’mon man, give me a little more than ‘Oh’, I just told you your love is reciprocated,” Yeonjun laughs as he repeats your previous words, teasing, “I’m nervous as shit, too.”

So, you down the rest of your glass before setting it aside and scooting too close for comfort, and ask, “Can I kiss you?” Because if thirty-four years of life has taught you anything, it’s to not waste any more time.

“Uh… yes.” Yeonjun’s widened eyes dart from both of your eyes, to your lips, and back.

And, so, you close the distance to kiss him. 

Maybe it’s not magical, maybe you don’t feel any supposed sparks or fireworks. But it feels right, like it’s meant to be as you cup Yeonjun’s cheek and shift to curl your hand around his nape. It feels like caressing the petals of a burgundy rose.

(“Have you just always known you loved me? Even when I threw up on you the first time we got drunk?” You ask, a few hours, and a couple more glasses of wine later.

“Ew, but yes, I knew I loved you even then.”

“...Huh. Would you still love me if a witch cursed me and I turned into a worm tomorrow?”

Yeonjun snorts, “A worm?” then he hums in thought, “I would buy the biggest terrarium, and the nicest dirt I can find, and take care of you. I’d find the witch and make her turn you back into a lovely human, too.”

“Good answer,” you smile, leaning over to kiss Yeonjun again, he tastes a little like remnants of Cabernet Sauvignon, deep and red, urging you to kiss him a little deeper. “I love you,” you whisper against his lips when you part.)

Upon thinking about it, not much changes between you and Yeonjun; apart from the kissing, consistently sharing a bed, sober I love you’s, and the other ‘unnecessary PDA’, as Taehyun so kindly put it, while Soobin had fixed the two of you with a disgusted look (you know that deep down somewhere, he’s happy for you both), and Beomgyu shot a thumbs up before going back to hogging the cookies Soobin baked—Kai was more focused on trying to steal some cookies, which he managed.

Your mother had practically wept out of joy when you told her the news, ‘I’m going to see my baby get married! I thought the day would never come!’ she’d cried out, and rushed to tell anyone that would listen to her. Overdramatic, and a little hurtful, by the way… You didn’t even say anything about marriage, either!

“Hm?” You reluctantly blink your eyes open at the call of your name, to see Yeonjun looking at you with a suspicious grin on his face.

“I love you.”

“...What did you do? I love you too, though, even if I have to become an accomplice.”

“I didn’t do anything bad, I just love you.”

“Mm, you loser. I love you more.”

“Hm, are you sure about that?” Yeonjun hums, your eyes follow him as he sits up and reaches for something from his nightstand, “‘Cause I think I love you more? So much that I’m asking if you’d do me the honor of marrying me.” He says so casually, contrasting how he carefully opens a small, velvety box. It gives a quiet creak as it pops open, revealing a simple silver band. A ring. An engagement ring.

After blinking the fatigue out of your eyes, and confirming that you’re not seeing or hearing things, you sit up with a start, “You—

“You dick, why would you propose to me while I’m half-asleep?!”

“Well, if you said no, I could’ve just written it off as you being tired and mishearing me… I’ll get you a nicer wedding ring, too, if you say yes, that is. Well, I already have one—”

Yeonjun grunts as you throw yourself onto him, “You’re such an idiot, I love you. Yes, I’ll marry you, there’s no question about it.”

You can’t recall the moment you started loving Yeonjun; maybe it was the day you met and he let you play his PlayStation. Maybe it was in middle school when more people started to see him, or maybe it was in high school…

Maybe you can’t pinpoint the exact moment, maybe you’ve just always loved Yeonjun. It’d be hard not to love him; he’s as beautiful as a white rose—inside and out—one that you’d pluck from the dirt with your bare hands, thorns and all, just to keep to yourself, even if for a little while. Maybe that’s selfish, but you think that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.

You part from Yeonjun as your friends and family cheering fills your ears. Feeling like words can’t do your feelings in that moment justice, you kiss him once more, in hopes to convey them a little better.

“I know. I love you,” he says, because he knows you best.

Grinning so happily that your cheeks begin to ache, you properly part from Yeonjun this time, and walk hand-in-hand down the aisle.

[ribbonetteart]

Tribute to one of my favorite movies of all time + the franchise that has me in a death grip 💖

a bit late for Christmas but at least Valentine's day is around the corner ^^;;

Process below if that interests you:

AS I SAID EARLIER, I had been working on this piece as early as December of 2021 😱!!!

This was the original sketch! I was inspired after learning about Blaze's own design inspiration coming from Takarazuka theater, as well as it being the Nutcracker season so this film was in bouncing around in my head.

and this was allllll the way back in 2021 ^^; I had put the idea to paper to capture the image in my head immediately. But the idea in my head was extravagant and beautiful and would certainly take time to complete, as well as the patience and skill to work with watercolor 😔 I've certainly done my share of watercolor, both physical and digital, but I still feel like my physical watercolor work is a fluke, and I was still a novice digital artist at the time of this sketch.

In short, I wasn't confident my skill could live up to the vision.

So I would put this on the back burner. It wouldn't be ready in time for Christmas, and I could use this as an opportunity to hone that digital art experience so it could be ready next year!

2 Years Later...

It's December 5th. Fuck it. Let's crack this open again, I tell myself.

SO starting with the line art, it's actually 2 different brushes layered over one another.

I also changed Sonic's expression to be more love struck-looking, because I'm a sucker for romance.

The image on the left is a watercolor line brush, while the right is a pencil brush. The reason I wanted a water color look was because I thought it would make the illustration look dreamy and fantastical, and I wanted that to extend to the line art as well. However, my usual lines on traditional usually veer more towards thick and cartoony from years of studying the Sonic art style, so I really felt like I was working against myself here. I had also asked friends for their input and they preferred the lines on the right as well. If my followers actually do read these blog posts, I'd love if you could comment which line art style you prefer drawing or looking at.

The happy medium was to just combine the 2. Here's a better look at that:

I like it! I think it combines the solid line with the rustic water color grain. Best of both worlds :]

For the actual painting, The most notable thing I can say is that getting the right pastel-y color was VERY difficult to achieve for someone like me who often loves to use bright and saturated colors in her art. I feel like I really set myself up to do one of those "evil art style" or "opposite art style" challenges I've been seeing around. I had to repaint Sonic at one paint because the blue of his fur was WAY too saturated for the style I was going for:

I started with painting Sonic and Blaze in first and then working on the background. I think that's probably the backwards way of doing it but one of the perks of digital art is you can do stuff any order you want when you have layers.

The background wasn't actually as difficult as I thought it would be. I wasn't going for any difficult perspective, and I was using a reference so that could be it. I'm usually averse to backgrounds but I really wanna tackle more of my weak points in art. I actually had way more fun than I was expecting, painting the sky and adding texture to the grass. I think I had the most fun rendering the water coming from the fountain (which you can't even see too well anyway, lol).

Funny enough, I had just about finished painting the characters and background by early January. So why am I posting this in February?

The Flowers...

In case you don't know. I love flowers. I love looking at them, I love learning about flower languages, I love drawing them. so seeing that my reference image showed flowers circling the fountain, I was excited! I was already having more fun than I expected to be having (working against my usual style, rendering a background), so how could this be a pain in the ass?

Well, I am my own worst enemy 😞I couldn't exactly identify each flower offhand from this screenshot alone. The texture of the flowers is kinda grainy, since I don't think the animators were expecting viewers to look too closely at the set piece to use as reference for my lovingly crafted crossover fanart. If anyone has this in high quality though, please tell me.

(I think I actually got this reference from a tumblr post but I can't find it on my blog for the life of me nor can I find it in the tags I'm so sorry)

I'm a huge stickler for details so I really wanted to be as "accurate" as possible in my illustration. I can hardly identify some of these flowers with confidence. I think there are roses in there? or tulips? I'm not sure if those yellow flowers are roses or some kinda petunia or if I'm way off.

I'm sure these details won't matter to most viewers but it was EATING AWAY AT ME. Eventually I decided to try drawing in flowers that might look similar to the ones in the reference. Or some based on their flower languages. I was certainly overthinking it ;;;; It led me to going "fuck it" and just throwing in whatever I wanted. There are no irises visible in that screenshot but I made it the centerpiece of the flower ring. Who give a shit.

I made some guides for me to follow: The blue ring was so I could make sure the flowers make a half circular border around Sonic and Blaze. I was envisioning how it could look as like an icon or sticker or something, which is why it's framed this way. then the second guide is the sketch of the flowers I made. I always do line art and I'm not great at just improvising with color to paper, or color to screen in this case.

The rest of this process is then just working on each flower piece by piece (with the help of the mirror tool of course) with varying degrees of detail. Some flowers are more abstract than others, and I had debated if that would look jarring and disrupted any kind of harmony I was trying to maintain with the style parameters I set for myself. And then I decided I was overthinking it once again which is why this was taking me nearly 2 months to complete.

At some point during this process, my wifi went out for a whole week! Of course, I could still work on this illustration offline, but I had a lot of tabs open with a bunch of reference images on there (plus I like to listen to music while I draw otherwise I lose focus and I had neglected to download a varied selection on my phone or laptop 😭 Learn from my mistakes).

The most tedious of this process was making each set of gladioluses a unique color.

Was it worth it? You tell me! I think they're pretty, at least.

Along the way, I repainted the grass because it wasn't symmetrical (It didn't need to be but I had been using the mirror tool for a lot at this point and it was bugging me). I made other little final adjustments, like color adjusting the leaves on the flowers, lowering the flower ring border, and so on.

Ultimately, I'm extremely satisfied with the final product. I had my heart set on doing something like this for a long time. I had so much fun just experimenting throwing on color or not worrying about technical stuff. Of course, I did do what I usually do and overthink it at some points, but I'm working on it!

I've wanted to do an extremely indulgent AU illustration and other drawings for a Sonic x The Nutcracker story for a long while. I will be totally honest, I'm still a little embarrassed to share stuff like this, even after years of posting fan art online. It feels like the more self indulgent something is, the more people might judge me for it ^^; But I wanna practice what I preach and kill the thing inside me that cringes at my harmless attempts at joy and whimsy.

I would love to do some more drawings for this AU, but maybe post them around December when it would be more seasonally appropriate. I hope you'll stick around for it!

If you read this whole thing to the end, thank you. Whether you follow my blog or not, I hope you have a lovely day :3💝

[alterhuman-buddies]

Heya, Writer !!!!!

Saw you wanted some random questions, so;; How'd you discover your non-humanity? Can go for any of your 'types :]

(^ nfta)

Have a good day!!

HJBDFDJSVJIE HI I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR SENDING AN ASK!!! /silly /p

This may or may not be a huge rant that may or may not go slightly off topic :3c

I first started questioning my alterhumanity because of my friend, who is a therian. They love talking about its experiences, especially with their therian identity. I related to their psychological and physical experiences (not as much spiritual), which made me wonder if I am nonhuman in any way.

My first awakening or discovered 'type was a domestic black cat, which made a lot of sense. Other than the dream and mental shifts; I love neutral colors, I've always enjoyed meowing as a vocal stim, I've been a black cat for Halloween for two years straight (lol), the thought of having paws and sharp teeth was euphoric, fish has been a favorite food of mine for a while, and I also feel a tail and another set of ears almost constantly (which I realized wasn't something everyone experiences).

My next discovery was both the dragon and red panda 'types. I've been a huge Wings Of Fire fan, and I have way too many dragon figurines on my shelf. Wings and flight have always been fascinating to me; I wanted to do a project on dragon wingspans in fifth grade, but unfortunately, my teacher didn't let me. I don't feel my wings as much as I do the cat or red panda tails, but I know that they're feathery. Also, birds were a huge hyperfixation of mine. Plus, i have a hoard of plushies, figures, (150) rubber ducks, and so many shiny things. I'll have to post some pictures of it one day! I'm really proud of it, especially my nest of plushies. Though, I hate other people touching it without permission. My hoard, not yours.

For the red panda 'type, I think I first labeled it as a hearttype until I realized how much euphoria I got from wearing my paper red panda mask. It's like the others, which is more of a theriotype/kintype, and it took me a while to realize that! I remember when I first saw a red panda at a zoo. It was so amazing, and I just wanted to join them! I feel like that should have been a sign, but I didn't know what alterhumanity was at the time. I love making the high-pitched red panda yips (the ones that humans can hear—my vocals aren't that good) and chewing on pencils as if they're bamboo. Greens and browns are my favorite colors to wear and I absolutely love fruits!!! I feel my ears and tails most of all of the other 'types, I think red panda is my strongest 'type!

And last but not least, the wolf 'type. This is my weakest 'type, but it's still a part of me! I have a feeling it'll be the first of my four to change (if it ever changes). I don't remember how I discovered it, I think it was through a mental shift? I also feel more wolf-y when I feel like I'm in danger or if I need to protect someone/something. The thought of dens and snow are really nice for me, but I'm not too much of a meat eater. However, during my wolf shifts, I do feel cravings for steak and venison, I also feel more masculine?

I like different pronouns and names during my shifts for each 'type.

Black cat: Luci, they/it/purr/paw/meow

Dragon: Talon, they/it

Red panda: Red, it/her/vix

Wolf: [no other name], he/him

I think that's all for me to say! Thank you so much for the ask, anon, and have a good day as well! ദ്ദി（• ˕ •マ.ᐟ

[gemapples]

see you in 2024 💗💗

very personal ramble about my year and experiences, etc. under the cut. kind of neg just a warning but if anyone would be willing to read it the whole way through i'd appreciate it so so much

2023 was certainly... a year for me. had many highs but a Ton of lows, went forward one step but took two steps back. i'd be lying if i said i didnt struggle and know what to do for a lot of it

i did get to meet and even become friends with people i look up to, got to learn new things i didn't know before. and one of the problems i noticed throughout this year is i spent way more time than i needed to focusing on my usefulness for others and what i can do for people rather than prioritizing myself and my mental health. i think a lot of problems i experienced in 2023 was due to me getting too caught up in how i'm perceived by others (especially on social media like tumblr). for 2024 i want to work on this and be sure to put myself first in every situation and be the best person i see myself as -- not overdo it for the sake of others. i'm going to try being more straightforward with myself and how i choose to approach people. i want to be more involved in this fandom and get to know more people who love kirby better rather than just hiding away and watching from the side like i have for many years, waiting for them to approach me first at some point. i made a lot of progress on this a lot in 2023 but i could always be better :')

regardless though, i wouldn't have been nearly as ready to get back on track if it weren't for the support you all have given me throughout this year. august and september were two of the worst months i've ever experienced; i won't get into it (if you know you know), but goddd was it harder than i can even describe. i've never had to go through something that resulted in me questioning my Entire artistic ability, my whole worth, and whether everything i've grown and learned from is just completely fake. i couldn't look at my work and all of my social medias without being completely disgusted and disappointed with myself. i'm in art student too, so you can imagine how fucking hard it was to balance and muscle through that as well lol. it was nothing but hell. if i didn't get the support i did from everyone, i can say with full confidence i wouldn't have been able to pick up my pencil phone and get back to drawing Nearly as quickly as i did. in fact, i probably would still be deeply effected by it and not have the motivation to continue posting for at least a long while. so i seriously can't thank you enough for that. all the words i was told still stick with me to this day and gave me a reason to keep pushing and learn to better understand myself

im tearing up as i write this so i'll have to cut it short LOL but i want to express how deeply it means to me that through all the conflict i've experienced throughout this year, you guys were there for me and were so generous to offer your time to support me and help me out. knowing i make at least one person smile and enjoy what i post is enough for me. hopefully 2024 will be easier on the emotional rollercoasters, i think all of us could use a long break from chaos really lol

thanks for everything and i love you

-mac

[creedslove]

STUDYING

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

A/N: I got the inspiration for this piece during my own spanish class this week, I was supposed to be paying attention but I was thinking of him and my upcoming test and got distracted. Also, it's worth to mention that reader studies Spanish in a language school that teaches adults foreign languages just like I do in real life (and I'm 26) which means there's NOTHING to do with highschool or underage reader at all. If this kind of school isn't a thing in your country then it's too bad, lol!

Summary: Pedro helps you study and get your Spanish essay done on time but you get distracted by your personal tutor at home

Warnings: fluff, sweet boyfriend Pedro and a tiny bit of smut towards the end

1.2k words

It was about your third or fourth sigh that caught Pedro's attention. He knew you were having your moment of studying and he always made sure to give you your space, so you could focus, do your tasks, spread all your pens and papers with endless notes across the table and finish everything on time.

However, this time he could tell by the times you ripped pages off your notebook and crumpled it things weren't going so smoothly. He'd borrowed one of your highlighters to highlight his lines in the new script he was engaging into, being comfortable in the living room when he heard you mumbling something about 'fucking that shit'

He frowned curiously as he knew you absolutely adored studying Spanish, you enjoyed it so much you often spent hours making cute and colorful vocabulary summaries you'd learned in class, and you were nerdy to the point of writing essays without the teacher requesting them, just for fun, writing about random topics you enjoyed.

And Pedro was also aware you didn't study Spanish because of him. You'd been studying it for at least a year before you two met, knowing it had to do with the possibility of getting a better position, or a new job, or a nice trip abroad or even understanding movies and series. As he knew, you loved studying languages and that was one of the things he loved about you. And also the fact he could practice it at home with you, enjoying the fact you very often got his internal jokes or pet names you called each other.

In reality, he knew he wasn't the reason why you started learning Spanish, but he knew he was the reason why you kept studying it and made sure to get good results. And he loved it.

One thing you really enjoyed about Pedro was that he never intruded in your business. He knew you were smart enough to learn it by yourself and only if you needed help he would offer some. You avoided asking him for help as much as you could, you just wanted to do things on your own and you also loved his proud face when you were able to carry full conversations on different topics or understand a whole movie without having to rely on subtitles. But that essay was driving you insane.

Your test was coming up and it made you nervous. For the first time, you began feeling the difficulties in the language as the grammar was becoming harder and harder and you didn't know what else you could do to memorize that. Your essay, or composición as your boyfriend would say, was stressing you out, as nothing seemed good enough, you've written better, hell, even Pedro had told you many times how good your writing was and he wouldn't lie to you, that's for sure. But yet, you weren't convinced and when you finished that piece of shit you called a text you were already exhausted.

You began collecting your pens and pencils and organizing them back into the case and cleaning up the table when Pedro walked towards you. He had a sweet smile on his face and gently stroked your cheek, his curious brown eyes scanned the place until they fell onto your work.

"¿Qué pasa mi amor?" He asked in his beautiful, sexy accent and pulled a chair, sitting next to you. "I know you can do everything, but if you want, I can help you" he offered gently, not really thinking you'd agree with it, but when you handed him your text he grabbed his reading glasses, those black ones you loved and that always distracted you. At that point, you didn't give one single shit about tests, grades or evaluations, you would love to climb his lap and ride your handsome boyfriend while he dirty talked in spanish into your ear until exhaustion.

You barely noticed him talking to you, you were too busy looking at him, his tight sweater looking great on him, his messy soft hair, the way he softly bit his lips unconsciously when he focused on reading and those damn glasses.

"Y/N? Princesa? Are you listening to me?" He raised his brow and stared at you, waiting for you to reply. You swallowed hard and looked at him, feeling your cheeks flushing as you were caught fantasizing about your boyfriend.

"Y-yeah, I am, sorry cariño, I was just thinking of the test" you lied and looked at what he was pointing out in the paper. Pedro had taken a red pen and circled some words, you had either misspelled those or just put them in the wrong place, but overall your text was pretty decent. He gently explained you what you got wrong and how you could fix it better, though he could also tell you weren't really caring about that at the moment and knowing his sweet little puta very well, he knew whatever was on your mind had nothing to do with tests or school.

"Are you having wet dreams about your Spanish teacher, Y/N?" He folded his arms and looked at you "because I can just tell your mind is miles away from your studies and by the way you are clenching your thighs together you are probably very wet now" he smirked and loved how red you got. You knew there was no way you could fight that and lying would be just stupid. You bit your lips and chuckled, placing your hand on his thigh "I would have these if they fired that annoying cunt and hired you instead, though I can't complain about my private tutor" you whispered and leaned into his body, kissing his exposed neck gently and before he had any other action, you got up and immediately sat on his lap, facing him and pecking his soft lips gently, feeling his facial hair tickling you. His hands immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, at the same time you raised your ass lifting your skirt up and feeling the contact of his rough jeans against your thin panties, moving your hips slowly against his, the friction on your core sending shivers down your spine just as Pedro felt his pants tightening at how hard he got.

"I know you want to help me, but we both agree this isn't my best work, so I can even rewrite it later if you want, but now…" you kissed him deeper this time and you felt how Pedro bucked his hips against yours, looking for more touch, more exposure of your skin on his.

"Y/N… you're teasing me" he groaned and only got a smirk as a reply

"Lo que quiero decir és que podríamos hacer otras cosas ahora, papi… ¿Qué te parece?" You whispered against his ear knowing it drove him insane when you spoke with him like that.

Pedro pulled your panties to the side and ran his thumb up and down your hard clit, feeling how wet you were and nodded.

"Sí, pero si no te vayas bien and la prueba, voy a darte un castigo" he whispered back against your lips and slapped your ass hard, making you whimper and feel your cheek burn, as you definitely knew what kind of punishment he'd give you.

______

A/N: this is my first one shot after years of not writing. I hope it wasn't so bad and there might be a second part to it because I still have many Spanish tasks to carry out which means there might be more ideas, hopefully a little bit more smut this time. Also I posted it through the app and it somehow got worse when it comes to editing posts 🤌

Anyway, feedback = life

[rosiethedragongeek]

Because it is officially the same month as the first day of Fall happens,,, it's OFICIALLY Halloween so here are some Fall/Halloween headcanons for the gang <3

okay it got a little long so I'm gonna put a keep reading thing so that it doesn't take up too much space lol

Snotlout is one of those people who REFUSES to admit that he is cold even when he is like, violently shivering

The twins are giving out Thorston sandwiches left and right they cannot be stopped, you WILL find yourself in the middle of a Thorston Sandwich at LEAST once or twice a week

Tuffnut knits sweaters for Chicken, Rooster, and ALL of the chicks

They all cuddle their dragons at night to stay warm <3

When they're all hanging out together, Hooky will flame up and they'll all sit close to him

They toast food on him all the time when they're hanging out like this

They go to carve pumpkins but they get SUPER competetive about it (idk if they realistically could get their hands on pumpkins and idk if they would even be exposed to that tradition but for the sake of this they can and they have lol)

They're all trying to carve pumpkins of their dragons

Hiccup gets super creative about it he calculates things, he's got a ruler, he's got a pencil to make markings beforehand, the whole deal

Fishlegs' is very artistic (he also makes a model meatlug out of like four pumpkins instead of just carving her into one)

The twins actively try to cut each other's fingers off while carving theirs

The twins try to fill hollow pumpkins with zippleback gas and use them like bombs lol

Which leads to them eating a lot of roasted pumpkins

Hiccup always has long sleeves but he is SO cold ALL the time, he gets a thicker tunic and some furs to keep warm

Snotlout makes fun of him for giving into the cold

Astrid does too but it's okay because she is ACTUALLY impervious to the cold

P sure that Fall in Berk comes with a mix of heavy rain and light snow so there's a lot of muddy slush all over

Berk is all decorated with candles and dragons cut out of colored papers and stuff

They have a bonfire in the center of the village that they light at night around this time of year

The twins insist on cooking for the gang using *fall flavors* which goes about as well as expected (there is SO much cinnamon) (once again idk if they have cinnamon on Berk or wtv but it's fun to imagine they do so they do)

The twins knit the LONGEST scarves for Barf and Belch

Fishlegs has a criminal amount of candles in his hut, and has made Meatlug SO many blankets and his hut is so cozy and warm

Fishlegs made them all scarves in their colors

Astrid still does her morning flights with Stormfly even though it's fucking cold she loves it

She's like no you guys you don't get it it keeps you alert

It's good for you

Snotlout absolutely gets sick trying to prove that he is unbothered by the cold and how he actually can swim in the ocean for an hour without getting so cold he has to come out

That's the twins' fault for sure

They honestly all probably get sick flying around in the sky and the clouds and stuff especially during storms and stuff bc despite what the movies and shows show you Berk is notoriously super wet and cold so

Fishlegs is the one to call everyone getting sick EVERY TIME

He also brings them all warm Yak milk with cinnamon at night time