#I hate this story more that you could ever know | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

813ths · 1 day ago

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not me going into this story thinking, here we go again with jeno being the biggest asshole ever and "would yani finally make jeno somehow nice?" in a way. YES. but still no lmaooo but. I LOVED EVERY BIT OF IT i think i needed a really hot shower that it could practically burn me after. only YOU could make me hate his character with every fiber of my being AND be so horny for him all at the same time it hurts. i love how you didn't go l with the usual stereotypical trope as this just became sooooo much more interesting. the mc was such a bitch but so are the rest of the people around her that i even thought jeno's more tolerable.... in a way. DEEP SIGHS I WANT HIM. STILL. fuck him or fuck him up idek how different that is but PLS. i would actually like to know how things would go on with them after all the events... (although i kinda already know but yk)

see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader

pairing ↠ """nerd!"""jeno x (f) cheerleader!reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, dubcon, oral (m receiving), male face sitting, face fucking, unprotected sex, blackmail, choking, hitting, virgin!reader

summary ↠ ever since forever, you have always gotten your way with people by whatever means necessary. a wink and a smile is all it takes to make a boy drop to your feet and worship you. no one told you to think that lee jeno would be any different. as it turns out, actions do have consequences.

wc ↠ 14.9k

a/n ↠ lowkey i think i subconsciously drew inspo from the fact that finals week made me consider both suicide and homicide. no jungwoo’s were hurt in the making of this fic. merry christmas! as always, feedback is appreciated!

don’t like it, don’t read.

▸ short, sweet, sometimes sticky

it was supposed to be like everybody else.

short, sweet, maybe sticky if you considered that one time you’d shaken that jisung boy’s sweat-coated hands and watched the pale of his face burn the same fierce rose as the lens he saw you through.

you’d laughed lightheartedly to spare him the embarrassment, telling him that everybody got a little sweaty every now and then, especially you. after all, cheerleading was more than skipping around and twirling. and at those words, you’d watched his eyes haze with the image of you damp with sweat, drenched head to toe.

hook, line, and sinker.

far too easy, exactly how you liked them. smart, easy, and utterly unable to resist you.

no one told you to expect something different from lee jeno. and why would you? he knew all the right answers, had some of the best marks, and practically lived in the library. he perfectly fit the bill of your standard victim.

which was why you had no qualms about approaching him in the library while he was typing away at his laptop, occasionally sipping from some kind of coffee.

as if he could sense he was in imminent danger and needed to evacuate immediately, jeno turned around before you could even make it completely to the table and saw you advancing on him with a pretty, practiced smile. “hi,” you greeted, waving at him. falling, your hands gripped the rear of the chair beside him. “is someone sitting here?”

jeno raised a brow at you, but shook his head. “no, no one’s sitting there.”

“perfect,” you replied, pulling out the chair and taking a seat. you turned so that you were facing him. “jeno, right?”

jeno nodded slowly, wondering where this was going. he got plenty girls, sure, but none ever approached him in the library. “that’s me,” he said, curious. “do i know you?”

“well, probably not,” you replied, giggling as if something was funny. “but, you know… i’m a cheerleader.”

jeno hummed. “are you now?”

you bobbed your head expectantly. “yeah, and i’ve heard about how smart you are. i’m impressed, to be honest. i mean, every time i’m in the library, i see you sitting here. i could never spend so much time here. you must have a lot of resolve to do something like that.”

“you think so?” jeno asked, pretending to be flattered just to see where you were leading him.

“i do. like, really do,” you replied, brushing your fingers against his forearm. “i just have so many other,” better, “things to do, you know. with cheer, i’m either practicing or resting so that i’ll have energy for practice. it’s really hard on me, you know?”

jeno stifled a chuckle and glanced back at his laptop screen. “you poor thing.”

your brows stitched. he wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to you. it was almost like he was uninterested. “and that’s why i was wondering if you could help me. i mean, you’re such a genius. you could probably do it in half the time it would take me,” you continued, lowering your hand onto his denim-clad thigh, and becoming surprised by how sturdy it felt.

jeno spared a fleeting glance at your hand on his left thigh before his eyes flitted to your face, watching you wink at him and throw him a smile. “let me get this straight,” he started, slowly caressing the back of your hand with his thumb as it sat on his thigh. “you want me to… do your work for you?”

“hey, your hard work wouldn’t go unrewarded,” you insisted, ignoring the unexpected motions of his thumb. “you’d have my attention. i mean, like i said, i don’t have a lot of time to give away. but i’m willing to spend some of it on you.”

jeno snickered, unable to help himself anymore. “are you this patronizing to everyone you meet?” he asked.

your eyes flickered. “p-patronizing?”

jeno smiled, patting your hand before setting it on your own thigh. “sorry, was that a big word for you? you know, when you think you’re too good for something, but you don’t want to say it, so you play sweet and act like you’re helping me, when really, it’s the other way around.”

switching on a dime, you narrowed your eyes at him. for such a pretty boy, he had quite the attitude. “i know what patronizing means. and right now, i think you’re the one being patronizing.”

“am i?” jeno asked, feigning obliviousness. “how’s it taste, cheerleader? doesn’t feel good, does it?”

your face was set in a scowl. sometimes it hurt you to play nice with people, and now was one of those times. “are you gonna help me or not?” you snapped.

“there it is,” jeno sang, chuckling to himself. he put his hand on your thigh now, squeezing the flesh gently. for now. “there’s the real you.”

you swallowed, glaring over at him with a hint of defiance despite the disgusting, foreign feeling rotting in your chest. it had never gone like this before. every situation predating this one had been somewhat predictable, to the point where you’d come to expect certain reactions. this was not that.

“i’ll help you,” jeno said after a pause.

you forced a smile. “great, so…”

jeno interjected, “on one condition.”

smile faltering, you trailed off, processing his words. now he was making some kind of deal with you? who in the hell did this man think he was?

“on one condition?” you echoed, as if you’d somehow misheard him. your brows scrunched in suspicion. “what condition?”

jeno grinned, the look on his face sly as hell and a stark contrast from the disgruntled glower on yours. “give me something in return,” was all he said, the tightening hold on your thigh giving away more than his words had.

you gawked, as if you were offended, and quickly swat at his hand. “i’m not having sex with you, you pervert!”

“sure, you’re not,” jeno answered with a chuckle, eyes twinkling with amusement. everything about you was alluring to him for mostly all the reasons unintended. “but you said i’d have your attention. i guess you think it’s not often a poor, busy nerd like myself gets anyone’s attention, yeah? but nerds get tired too, don’t they? they need to de-stress…”

“that’s not my problem,” you spat.

“you getting an F isn’t my problem, either,” jeno retorted, shrugging his shoulders. “so what it’s gonna be, cheerleader?”

something about this situation isn’t right to you. maybe it’s the lack of power you currently wielded over him, despite the fact that you had gotten used to having your way with academically competent boys like himself. if he weren’t taller than you and stronger than you, you’d resort to other, more familiar methods.

but jeno had changed the entire trajectory of this interaction for the worse, and now you had to determine whether or not it was beneath you to let him treat you as if you were some kind of object. you sulkily mulled it over, arms folded, trying to think of a way to maintain some semblance of power. “fine,” you finally replied, relenting. “but i’m not doing anything that requires me taking my clothes off.”

“you never seen a good porno, cheerleader?” jeno asked, a stupid, taunting smile blemishing his lips. “that cute little uniform of yours is the whole appeal to some people.”

“my name is…,” you huffed irritably, tired of being referred to by your title.

“frankly, cheerleader, i don’t care what your name is,” jeno told you with brutal honesty. “you’re the one that introduced yourself as a cheerleader, like that’s your whole personality or something. thinking it would make me fold. you can’t be stupid and demanding.”

you gaped, affronted by the sheer audacity of him to even utter those words to you, like you were some dumb bimbo. “i’m not stupid! i’m just too busy.”

“right. too busy,” jeno echoed, obviously none too convinced. “sorry for assuming.”

with a roll of your eyes, you stood up from the table chair, feeling utterly disrespected. “yeah, you should be,” you said, despite knowing his apology was completely inauthentic. “where’s your phone?”

jeno arched a brow and glanced over to his phone, sitting face down against the table on the other side of him. before he could even respond, you reached over him to grab it and pointed it at his face, unlocking it as if you’d done it a million times before.

then, you started typing away, all the while jeno watched you with an amused expression on his face. he had to admit, you were surely something. and though he found you entertaining, he couldn’t shake the thought that you desperately needed someone to put you in your place.

“reach me here,” you said after a moment, handing him his phone back. the screen was on his messages, a fresh contact with you. “pleasure doing business with you.”

with that, you walked away.

jeno shook his head, scoffing. who the hell did you think you were?

over the next few days or so, you met with jeno to better construct exactly what your expectations were pertaining to your work. or at least, those were the words he’d used. most of those limited encounters had ended with his hands sealing around your breasts.

you let it slide, deciding that a little over-the-clothes stuff was relatively harmless. after all, this was the busiest you’d been all year long, and you were far too exhausted when you got home to be burdened with stupid assignments and pesky discussion posts. the next two months, if not the next two weeks, were going to kill you if you didn’t have someone to carry at least half the workload on your behalf.

it was okay. jeno’s inability to keep his hands to himself was fine. it wasn’t like anybody was going to know, or that this arrangement would last long enough for them to find out. you would get to keep your dignity and your grades, without saving one at the expense of the other.

short, sweet, and sticky, remember? maybe the latter was simply manifesting in the way jeno’s hands were stuck to you. not that anything about him was sweet.

more like sacrifice.

▸ gilded age

“guess who just made the list of this week’s top ten trending sluts,” jennie said as she walked up beside you and roseanne.

roseanne perked up that, though she couldn’t help but mischievously quip, “you?”

jennie narrowed her eyes. “hoe, as if,” she spat. “i know how to keep my legs closed.”

you snickered. “god, what happened now?”

“a sex tape got leaked. hyeri, and apparently johnny.”

your nose scrunched, as if disgusted. “always knew she was a slut. i mean, you should have been there to see the way she acted around the jocks in high school. her eyes were practically screaming, ‘pick me, choose me, fuck me,’” you mocked.

roseanne burst into giggles, downing the rest of what was left in her red cup. “i don’t think that’s how that goes,” she chimed. “but johnny? is she crazy? i hope they didn’t do it raw. i heard rumors that he’s got the clap.”

“he sure clapped something, alright,” jennie retorted, much to your amusement. “it was definitely raw. hope it was worth the itch. you guys wanna see?”

“absolutely not,” you said, shaking your head vigorously. “i bet her parents would love to see it, though. on second thought, send me it.”

roseanne gawked. “are you serious?”

you bobbed your head, grinning deviously. “yeah. you guys have no idea what that bitch was like in high school. i tried teaching her a lesson, but she just never learned. it’s like the bitch is addicted to pain or something.”

jennie shook her head, pretending to disapprove, though she was intrigued to see how far you would your obvious loathing. “just sent it.”

your phone vibrated in your hand a few seconds later. you opened your instagram burner account, scrolling through your main’s following to find hyeri’s mother’s page, and dropped the video in her inbox. your sly giggle alerted your friends to your success and you dropped your phone in your pocket, satisfied.

“oh, you’re sick,” jennie insulted playfully, nudging your arm. “i wonder if she’ll say anything.”

you shrugged your shoulders, feigning nonchalance as if you weren’t excited to see how her mother would respond. “don’t know, but i’m more curious about if she’ll talk to hyeri about it. i’d love to be a fly on the myung’s wall when that happens.”

roseanne tapped your shoulder. “hey, don’t look now, but that jeno guy is staring you.”

your head whirled around, spotting jeno in his own corner of the party, indeed watching your every move as if he wanted to consume you and was waiting for the perfect moment to attack. which, if he was, would not be surprising.

roseanne sighed in annoyance. “i literally just said don’t look now.”

you turned back to face them, shaking your head. “don’t worry about that creep,” you replied, brushing it off. “he’s just begging to get in my pants. didn’t even know he went to parties.”

for whatever reason, jennie laughed. something about what you said tickled her, apparently. “um, yeah. that’s jeno for you, alright. he’s either partying with his friends or grinding in the library, no in between. perfectly balanced lifestyle, i have to admit it.”

your brows furrowed. that was news to you. and probably an important piece of information that you’d conveniently missed when narrowing down your targets. maybe you should have asked around about him more. you just didn’t think that someone who studied as hard as he did could also be the life of the party.

what was he doing here, anyway? shouldn’t he have been off doing your homework? useless fucking nerdy-not.

“do you guys know each other or something?” roseanne pressed, noticing the strange tension in the air despite the fact that you and jeno were feet apart. which was honestly admirable. “do you think you could get him to put me on with jungwoo?”

jennie’s laughter rang out again, only this time, it was much louder, and much more mocking. “please. jungwoo isn’t gonna touch any of us after how she broke his heart. you’d have better luck with jaehyun,” she sneered.

roseanne glared, a snarl on her face. “fuck jaehyun.”

“yeah, i bet you want to. i bet you’re still dreaming of that big, thick, meaty dick you wouldn’t shut up about, like, two months ago.”

“a lot can change in two months.”

“oh, it sure can,” jennie replied, humming. “it sure can.”

▸ takes two to tango

jeno: come over

you: no

jeno: that wasn’t a request

you: no where in our agreement does it say you get to boss me around

jeno: not even for an A?

you: that’s what your grabby hands are for

jeno: i don’t have to do this, you know. i can let you be a grown up and fiend for yourself like the rest of us

you: i’m otw, chill. jesus

the knock of your fist against jeno’s door was incessant, more than likely enough to exasperate his neighbors, given that it was particularly late at night and a good number of them had to have been sleeping.

jeno threw the door open with a scowl, obviously irritated. “you are so fucking annoying,” he hissed, dragging you inside and shutting the door behind you.

“ow!” you cried out, snatching your arm away. “stop that, i’m sore.”

jeno shook his head, his discontent frown disappearing in favor of an entertained, idiotic smile. “sore, huh? from doing what?”

you rolled your eyes. “if it isn’t obvious, i’m a cheerleader,” you reminded, gesturing down to your uniform. “meaning, i cheer.”

ignoring your snarky attitude, jeno glanced you up in down, taking in the sight of you in that tight, short cheer uniform that clung to you rather snugly. sweat still beaded at your damp legs and likely gathered between your breasts and down your back, as jeno was imagining. “yeah, you cheer. you won’t let me forget,” he said, amused.

“well, i’m busy,” you said, crossing your arms.

busy, my fucking ass, jeno thought to himself. “yeah, you won’t let me forget that, either. and yet, i saw you giggling with your friends at a party two weeks ago, looking completely fine. your poor, exhausted legs seemed to be working perfectly.”

“what, so i can’t have hobbies now?”

“sure, you can,” jeno replied, shrugging his shoulders. “i just have to ask, do you ever do anything productive with your time?”

“of course, i do,” you hissed, before quickly deflecting, “but we both know that’s not why you made me come all the way over here. so, what do you want?”

“your attention,” jeno said without missing a beat. his hands plopped against your bare shoulders and began wandering down your arms, rubbing them back and forth. “i’m in desperate need of a cheerleader’s sweet, precious attention.”

the disgruntled grimace on your face was the most effort you made to express your discomfort, not that he was looking there anyway. to him, at the moment, the sight of your body was much more appetizing. you watched with a repugnant burn simmering in your gaze as his eyes met your long, slender legs.

without warning, jeno grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you into the air, making you cry out in surprise. arms dangling around his neck, you held on for dear life, not an inch of your body feeling safe in his arms. you had been hauled further away from the ground by your cheermates, but this was different; no one wanted to fail, meaning no one would drop you. you had no reason to assume that jeno would handle you delicately.

but his burly arms, however, were not lost on you. though you hadn’t yet seen them in full power, your interactions mostly taking form of him forcing your back flush against the chiseled muscle of his chest as he kneaded yours, you could only imagine what the hands that groped you were capable of.

in a matter of seconds, you landed on your back against his sheets, another shrill screech escaping your throat. “jeno, what the hell?” you exclaimed.

“i’m not getting on my knees for you,” jeno said, the slyest of smiles tugging at his lips. “not unless it’s to fuck you. and you’re just too good to give it up, aren’t you?”

for him, definitely. and you would have said so, but your lips parted in a gasp, surprised and startled. something wet pushed along your sore legs, which were abruptly yanked to pillars far above your head so that they’d be more conveniently within reach of jeno’s tongue as he licked long, hot lines at them.

your eyes were rooted on him, fixed in a shape unlike their natural narrowed, black blaze and it would instead be more apt likening them to the fear and fret of a deer in crossed paths. wide, waiting, almost innocent. too used to circumstance to understand its fabric and too unfamiliar to chance to understand its fate.

unsatisfied, jeno bent your knee and pushed your leg further as he stood over the edge of his bed, and, in turn, over you, a grip on your ankles that you could feel in your bones. “jeno, that hurts,” you whined.

jeno didn’t understand why you were bitching. “but you’re a cheerleader,” he echoed. “aren’t you flexible?”

you writhed uncomfortably as he continued shamelessly, tongue even daring to twist against the bone underneath the bend of your knee, a sensation that itched more than you expected. his lips sealed around your skin, sucking and nibbling.

needless to say, it was unlike anything you had experienced before. “stop, that’s weird!”

“stop complaining,” jeno groaned, pushing your leg even harder. “it’s like all you ever do is complain about how hard your life is.”

your eyes stung now not only with loathing, but the threat of hot tears. it was stupid; it sounded dramatic, but you felt it was warranted when he was the one actively making your life harder. “you’re a fucking weirdo,” you snapped.

jeno heard it. the slight tremble in your voice despite the courage you’d been feigning. that was the sole reason he even bothered to look up at your face, the tears in them stealing his attention away in a heartbeat. he didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed, or maybe even both. “god, now you’re crying,” he pointed out. “i haven’t even done anything to you. do you need me to give you a reason to cry?”

you shook your head. all you needed was to go home and recharge. you were beginning to doubt whether or not he was worth the trouble he carried with him in exchange for a grade that would keep your parents off your back, especially if he was going to make pulling stunts like this a regular habit.

the last thing you expected jeno to do was tug the bottom of your top past the shadow of your breasts, slackening the taut grip on your ankles in favor of your wrists as if he knew you would dare resist him, and burying his face between your chest. you exhaled shakily, mortified by the hot, wet feel of his tongue licking a stripe between your breasts, gathering leftover sweat on its tip.

and you did thrash. but you were getting a taste of that power now; a power that wasn’t your own, a power that you couldn’t reap. a power that grabbed you with its calloused fist with a might so strong you couldn’t move. and it was for the first time that you felt utterly weak. there had to be a word for something as unfathomable as that, but it was so foreign to you that you couldn’t think of it.

to make matters worse, jeno was taking his time, sucking bruises onto the skin of your chest in between his licking, as if he wanted to ensure there was no spot left untouched, no drop of sweat left behind. your face strained with discomfort, wanting more than anything to get away from him and this awful feeling rotting inside of your heart.

maybe your cries for mercy were heard, because no sooner had you hoped for an end than it came. “you can go now,” jeno said, pulling away. he pulled your shirt back down and smoothed out any wrinkles, which was almost kind of him.

even though you were more than eager to be rid of him, you lay there, dumbfounded. it was one thing to be violated, and it was another to be dismissed, but to happen in rapid succession of each other quickly bred some ugly emotion that was only festering.

jeno had expected you to scurry out of his bed, and out of his apartment, so the fact that you were still there bemused him. “what, do you want more?” he teased.

you shook your head, sitting up a little too quickly. your head started to feel lightheaded. you barked, “that isn’t what i agreed to!”

jeno had the audacity to laugh. like you had told a joke of some kind. “isn’t it? your clothes are still technically on. that was what you agreed to. remember?”

you dropped to your feet, pushing past him. “you’re disgusting,” was all you said, making a beeline for the door.

“takes two to tango, baby,” jeno called after you, simpering.

you didn’t look back. you couldn’t. there was an unpleasant stir in your gut - not as easily distinguishable as the loathing - unlike anything you had ever felt and you desperately wanted it to go away, to rid of yourself of anything that even remotely resembled lee jeno.

▸ chess, not checkers

deep, low grunts smacked against the walls and bounced back with almost the same amount of vigor of jeno’s quick, unrelenting hips, the sound nearly as hard and heavy as he was. the only thing rivaling the tightness of the hole he was using was the wince of his closed eyes and the grip of his strong hands.

jeno didn’t want to see. it would be too blatantly obvious that she wasn’t you, and that it wasn’t your blemished hips he was holding. though she sounded nothing like you. he knew that you would have been so much whinier, and despite finding them painfully obnoxious, he found himself longing to hear all your worthless, melodramatic complaints.

instead, he heard soft moans mingling with his own labored sounds as his hips moved with a mind of their own, imagining it was you underneath him where you truly belonged.

the image stained the back of his eyelids, burned behind them every time he closed his eyes; the shortness of your pleated skirt scrunched around your hips, weak legs on his broad shoulders with nicks and bruises scattered here and there, arms swinging aimlessly.

and if he got tired of hearing you, he could simply press his palm squarely against your mouth, muting the sound of your incessant fussing. if he really wanted to put you in your place, he could clasp his hands around your throat and clamp down onto your windpipe till all that escaped you was a pitiful, featherlight squeak.

jeno could tell no one had ever properly put you in your place before, no one had ever stood up to you and reminded you of your level. you were in desperate need of a humbling and didn’t even know it yourself. no one better than jeno for the role, he figured. a little cheerleader parading around in a uniform to feel different from everybody else she met didn’t scare him whatsoever.

the only thing saving you was essentially the fact that you were undeniably pretty and not necessarily to blame for the school’s superficial culture, which elevated girls like you in terms of status despite it having no real meaning or manifestations outside of campus, and put you on top when you were within the bubble.

but outside the bubble, away from the boys who thought of you as this beautiful, unattainable poison and the girls who enabled you with a faux sense of togetherness, you had no real identity, no real power, and no real worth.

and yet, maybe jeno was contributing to the problem. maybe he had inadvertently become one of the people elevating you. because choking in the heat of the moment, he uttered your name, forgetting who he was with and where he was.

hands shoved at him, hard. at least, hard enough for him to be jolted out of his reverie, finally gazing into the eyes that seethed because of him. “did you just call me that evil witch’s name?” seoa barked.

jeno winced. that was a fair reaction, all things considered. he wouldn’t have wanted to have been called your name out of everyone’s, either. he rubbed his nape. “well…”

“unbelievable,” seoa replied, scoffing. she got out of the bed and hurriedly began picking her clothes up from the floor, redressing herself.

jeno exhaled a breath, mostly annoyed that his orgasm had been ruined, but still feeling a hint of sympathy. “seoa, wait,” he said, touching her shoulder.

seoa recoiled, pulling away. jeno had never seen anyone be so ready to put on their pants after being with him, not even with a hell of a schedule after. “never touch me again,” she spat, walking out with her shoes in tow. “fuck you.”

jeno ran a hand through his hair, watching her leave, and murmured under his breath, “god dammit.”

a few days later, while they were attending a festival, jaemin marched over to jeno, draping an arm over his shoulder, and asked, “wanna tell me why seoa blocked all of us and she’s been glaring at me and mark since she got here?”

jeno snickered, shaking his head in slight disbelief. he was over it by now, he figured she would be too. “i let a certain cheerleader’s name slip while i was balls deep inside her,” he confessed. which he wasn’t necessarily proud of, considering the only reason he even knew your name was because you’d saved your own contact on his phone.

jaemin’s brows furrowed, glancing around as if he was trying to spot you in the crowd like a heat-seeking missle. “who?”

rolling his eyes, jeno grabbed the back of jaemin’s head with one hand and turned it in your general direction, hoping it would help. and jeno knew it had when jaemin’s confusion melted into disgust.

“oh, that bitch?” he asked, nose wrinkled.

jeno chuckled, releasing his friend’s head. “she’s a bitch, but she’s pretty.”

jaemin couldn’t argue with that fact even if he’d wanted to. “yeah, i’ll give her that. cute in the face. she’s fake as hell, though. played jungwoo like a fiddle. he did six months worth of her homework because she promised they’d get together.”

that was news to jeno. he knew you were cruel, having had stories from jisung and the like, but he never knew of your history with jungwoo. if it could be called that. “did they fuck?” he couldn’t help but ask.

jaemin shook his head, taking a sip from the bottle in his hand before he answered, “he said she always turned him down. told him she was waiting for ‘the perfect moment.’”

now that was funny as hell. jeno had only known you for a few weeks and yet even he quickly pieced together that you weren’t the romantic type. “well, that’s fucked up,” he said, happily accepting yet another reason to dislike you. “but he’s dumb as fuck if he did her homework for six months without getting a crumb of pussy in return.”

jaemin made a face, nodding. “yeah,” he exhaled, giving the impression that he’d wanted to defend jungwoo. “but man, what possessed you to say her name while fucking the seoa? i need a good excuse. you just blew my shot with her.”

jeno shrugged. “don’t have one. she approached me maybe three weeks ago asking me to do her homework, and i agreed.”

jaemin gawked. that didn’t sound like jeno. like at all. “man, what? is she paying you?”

“oh, dividends,” jeno quipped.

“oh, and in what? pussy?”

“nope.”

jaemin looked horrified. he was so damn dramatic. “then, why the hell are you doing her bidding? that doesn’t sound like you.”

it didn’t, not immediately, but jeno had his reasons. “entertainment purposes,” he replied curtly.

jaemin shook his head, taking another swig of his drink. certainly, he was drinking, not smoking. “you’re becoming her pawn for entertainment purposes? unbelievable, bro.”

“chess, not checkers, jaem.” jeno smirked, putting a hand on jaemin’s shoulder. “you’ll see.”

▸ things good guys do

“you’re lucky i was already out,” jeno told you when you let him into your apartment. “it’s the middle of the night for fuck’s sake. what do you want?”

“oh, please,” you spat, damn near rolling your eyes. your arms were folded. “you get to call me over at the ungodly hour, but when i do it, it’s a problem?”

jeno exhaled through his nose and ran a hand through his hair, wondering why he bothered to come here when he had no obligation to do your bidding, as jaemin had put it. but something told him that he wouldn’t have any regrets. “yeah, it is. now, what do you want?”

you were silent for a few moments, somewhat ashamed of the request you would ultimately make. you sighed, surrendering. “i need help with calculus,” you finally said.

jeno’s shoulders drooped, eyes shrinking in a contemptuous disbelief. “seriously?”

“seriously,” you repeated, sitting down on your couch as your laptop screen glared back at you from the coffee table.

jeno groaned, “i seriously don’t know how you even got into this school. can’t you do anything by yourself?”

you gawked, affronted. he made you sound like some incompetent, immature dickhead. “contrary to a weirdly popular belief, i’m actually really smart,” you insisted, having the transcripts to prove it. “but my professor sucks and i need an eighty-nine on my final to keep my A. and it’s not like you can walk in and take it for me because it’s proctored.”

jeno shook his head and reminded, “you know this little agreement we have doesn’t include me tutoring you, right?”

“it didn’t include you assaulting me, either,” you retorted.

“you think that was assault?” jeno asked, scoffing. he dropped beside you on your couch, the proximity instinctively making you suck in a breath. “if i wasn’t a good guy, i’d show you assault.”

scooting over to ensure maximum distance between your bodies, you argued, “good guys don’t call themselves good guys.”

“good guys have self-control,” jeno replied matter-of-factly, resisting a chuckle. he didn’t make a move to touch you, but he noticed how tense you looked now that he was sitting beside you. “i’ll tutor you, but we’ll have to up the terms of our agreement.”

you swallowed sharply, throat bobbing. you had a feeling you weren’t going to enjoy these new terms. “what do you want?”

“a blowjob.”

“that’s disgusting,” you spat without a second thought, features contorting with repugnance.

jeno quipped, “and so is your inability to do your school work without using and depending on every intelligent boy you meet, but hey, i’m sure you can’t help that.”

you sighed, exasperated, and cradled your face in your hands. was this seriously what your life had come to? giving a boy a blowjob in exchange for a pretty transcript?

jeno grinned, appreciating the sight of you in distress. it was a sign, a good sign, and he intended to bring it out of you more and more, bleeding you absolutely dry. lowering a hand onto your thigh, he urged, “come on, bruise those little knees for me. don’t you bruise ‘em for cheer?”

“that’s not the same!” you whined.

“of course, it’s not,” jeno said, squeezing your thigh as his shoulders trembled with laughter. “cheer isn’t helping you graduate with flying colors.”

you desperately wanted him to be wrong, you were begging for him to be wrong, but you both knew that if he was, he wouldn’t have been here with you at the moment. not now, not three weeks ago, not ever. so you sucked it up, slamming down your laptop lid, and grumbled, “fine.”

maybe he didn’t come here for nothing, after all. grateful he’d trusted his gut, jeno stood up and clutched your arm to pull you along with him. “come on, let’s go to your room. i like my blowjobs a little messy and i’m sure you don’t want to mess up your nice carpet.”

you snatched your arm away from him, hating his insistence on touching you for every little reason whenever he possibly could, even if it was insignificant. your mouth was taut as you begrudgingly headed for your bedroom.

it was obvious that you were sour. walking behind you, jeno couldn’t help but chime, “glad to see that you can at least walk by yourself!”

you bristled in annoyance, wishing you could just get rid of him, but you knew it wouldn’t be wise to discard him so quickly. at least for now, he still held some kind of value.

jeno walked in behind you, looking particularly radiant, and you hated that you knew why. hell, you hated the reason itself. “get on your knees,” he commanded.

normally, you would complain about him giving you orders as if you were his lap dog or something, but you just wanted to get this over with. you were already so over this entire week. you slowly dropped to your knees, trying to ignore how demeaning it felt.

“good girl,” jeno praised at your compliance. “now, look up at me with those pretty eyes and ask me to help you with calc. ask me nicely.”

you met his eyes, noticing the expectant glimmer in his gaze that you so badly wanted to knock off. but you weren’t dumb enough to incite violence against a grown man that walked around with his bulging muscles on display for all the world to see, and you didn’t doubt that he would hit you back. “jeno, please help me with calculus,” you pleaded, choosing your battles.

jeno hummed, satisfied. “you sound so pretty and sweet when you ask nicely, instead of demanding things. didn’t know you were capable of that,” he told you, running his fingers through your hair. “take it out. get me hard.”

your hands moved to his sweatpants, tugging at them enough to bring them down just shy of his knees, and doing the same with his underwear. he wasn’t hard yet, but that would be an easy fix; witnessing your state of pure anguish, watching you speak and move as if you were totally dejected, always excited him.

not to mention that the sight of you on your knees for him, the more he took it in, was arousing him even more than he thought it would. he had pictured it in his mind before, you serving him, pleasuring him, existing solely for him, but nothing could compare to the sight he beheld now.

at least, nothing other than you actually doing something rather than sitting there like an idiot. he liked taking control, but he figured you would take matters into your own hands, literally, when he gave the order. “do you need me to tell you what to do or something?” he asked, huffing irritably. “put your tongue on it. tease the head.”

your face and ears burned in ways they rarely did, but you nodded wordlessly and did as told, bracing your hands on his thighs and reluctantly pressing your tongue onto his tip, looking anywhere but his eyes as the muscle swirled around.

that amused jeno to no end. at least for now, he would let it slide, not feeling the need to maintain eye contact with you at the moment. if he needed to, he would simply just grab a nice, thick fistful of your hair and yank it back to jolt your head up at him. he could still see your pretty, bare face, hair arranged messily at the top of your head with a few needless strands jutting out here and there.

he liked that. of course, he would have been more than enthusiastic to have you suck him off if you’d been all dolled up, making you ruin your makeup and undo at least an hour of careful, clean work, but he also just took pleasure in seeing this natural, undone part of you. he wanted to see you for what you really were.

it didn’t take long for him to get hard. with all his thoughts revolving around you and the feel of your tongue on the head of his dick, that was a no-brainer. “good, now put it in your mouth. take as much as you can and not an inch less,” jeno instructed.

widening your mouth, you accepted his stout, heavy cock into your mouth, lips forming a tight suction around the head and steadily advancing down his shaft. bit by bit, inch by nightmarishly thick inch. you had made it maybe halfway down his shaft when you quickly discovered your limit.

jeno was surprisingly content, despite the fact that you definitely still had a few more inches to go. “there you go,” he said, giving your head a soft pat of approval. “suck. go slow. and don’t you dare let me feel any teeth.”

your heart was thumping out of something you could only understand as fear, even though jeno hadn’t done anything to warrant it yet. inhaling through your nose, you tried to level your breathing, taking your time to draw in his cock lest you made a mistake. the hint of warning in jeno’s voice, in spite of the calmness, was clear.

jeno, on the other hand, was reaching elysian heights. faint grunts of, “fuck,” escaped his pink lips, large hands at his sides reflexively tensing into tightly clenched fists in need of something to grab, hips just barely stuttering. your mouth was hot and wet, with the added benefit of your torturous tongue pressed against his size.

there was a pinch of desperacy in your actions that overcame the resistance; a desperacy not necessarily to please him, but to appease him. accidents were the last thing you could afford and eliciting his frustration was the last thing you wanted.

“lick,” jeno said, chest undulating. “up and down.”

with a hum, you started drawing long, wet lines back and forth on his veiny shaft, almost as if you were tracing the bold veins with your tongue. jeno’s reaction was instantaneous, deep groans the only thing you could hear other than the wet sound of your mouth on his cock, sucking and licking.

jeno’s eyes fluttered closed. “fuck. yeah, like that.”

you pressed your tongue against the underside of his dick, lingering in each spot for a moment before you continued, mostly because he seemed to like it when you did. which was your north star in an empty, dead night, because you had not a clue what the hell you were doing and you were afraid of making it obvious somehow.

if jeno could tell, he didn’t make it known. he was in a world of his own, all too happily reaping the pleasure from your mouth as if it was a dream come true for him. “kiss my balls. lick it.”

you stifled the sigh you were half tempted to let loose, pulling off his cock with a wet sound and a string of saliva connecting from the sticky tip to your glossy lips. moving your head, you took a moment to steel yourself before peppering tiny, soft kisses along his balls, down to his scrotum.

it wasn’t the most dignifying thing you had ever done, it may have even been the least, but your aching, sore jaw appreciated the break from sucking. you dragged your tongue over his testicles, tasting nothing but rubbery flesh. you were too busy avoiding his eyes to notice, but his face was tensing with pleasure, lips parting in low murmurs.

compared to when you first started, jeno was drastically harder now, massive, monstrous cock nearly bursting at the veins with precum leaking out from the thick tip. had your goal been to take all of him entirely, the sheer size of him would have immediately overwhelmed you.

“switch to your hand and go back to sucking me off,” jeno said, firm yet quiet. it sounded like he was trying to restrain himself, barely holding it together.

at least you were a fast learner. teasing the head of his cock, you gave it a few slow, tentative licks before you began to take him into your mouth again, all the while gently fondling his balls with your fingers. jeno groaned, arching into your touch. he couldn’t help himself.

you could taste the vicious amount of precum staining your tongue and you didn’t know how to describe it, other than slightly tart. the flavor blended with that of your own saliva, lingering on the roof of your mouth and the warm flesh underneath the flap of your tongue, mild as could be.

at least it wasn’t downright awful. you had heard stories before, not that you’d ever known what to make of them, or even pictured yourself being inside of them. if a month ago, someone had told you that you’d be on your knees for a man - for anyone - you would have said they were delusional.

jeno’s patience had worn thin and when you least expected it, he hauled you into the air, making you cry out in surprise just as you had the first time he’d lifted you into his buff, meaty arms. he tossed you onto the bed, just shy of the headboard, and suddenly straddled your chest. you gasped out a breath.

“open up,” jeno said, cock positioned right in front of your mouth.

not that he gave you the time to obey him, because he pressed himself against your slightly parted lips and forced them wider, entering your mouth on his own. your face strained, perfectly threaded brows tugging down into a discontented arch.

when you tried to pull away, jeno grabbed the sides of your face and pushed you onto his shaft with trembling hands, making you take him and leaving no room for escape, not until he decided he was done with you. there was only one concern present in his mind and that was getting himself off.

tears stung your eyes, that same implacable feeling you had when he’d dragged his tongue over the expanse of your soft, shaved legs and bare, sweaty chest finding you again in the most of unwanted company. jeno scoffed, spitefully tugging at your hair. “you know what’s funny? you’re such a fucking crybaby. you can’t take even half of what you give to others.”

chin flush against his scrotum and your nose not even an inch away from his bush, you almost gagged. the slurping sounds were humiliating, loud, wet squelching with every other big gulp making you want to shrink. however, jeno loved it, obsessing over the idea of making a mess out of you. the sound went straight to his dick.

jeno held your face in that low position, deeper than you’d ever taken him so far. “i’m really not that bad of a guy, you know,” jeno said, sounding like he truly believed it. you could have scoffed, if not for obvious reasons. “you just bring it out of me. i’m really just treating you like how you treat everybody else.”

he made you sound like something straight out of hell and you couldn’t help but think it was an unfair justification for something that felt too close to punishment. he obviously thought he knew you better than he did and it made you aggravated. that, or he somehow thought he was better than you.

there was a fleeting second of relief when jeno unmounted your chest and let you breathe, only to be crushed again when he dragged you by your wrists to the edge of your mattress, leaving you in the deep end. your eyes struggled to grasp with the flipped image of him nearing you, cock back down your throat before you could even blink.

though his hips thankfully had been moving at a calmer, steady pace before, despite forcing himself deeper than you could handle, he began to thrust more urgently into your mouth with the new change, embedding himself even further into your throat than you knew was possible.

you cried harder, hating every second of it. the salty, bitter tang of your tears mingled with the tainted taste of spit and sharp bite of precum that had come to stain your chin and cupid’s bow. the vigor of his movements was overwhelming, overpowering.

“that’s it, cheerleader. cry harder,” jeno taunted, tracing his thumb over your face to swipe at the trail of tears. all the while his hips were moving faster, harder.

it felt like such a mockery, him doing that. a feigned act of sympathy while perpetuating the torment that was reducing you to tears as a selfish means of achieving pleasure of his own.

then, his hands wandered down to your breasts, slipping inside your night shirt and mauling your chest. running his hands in a circle, his thumb brushed the erect, colored nipples and he clasped his hands around your chest, squeezing your breasts. “fuck, i’m close,” he grunted, grip tightening, pace hastening, force increasing.

with how close he was, your nose was squarely against his the flesh of his balls, effectively cutting off your exhale. your heart thudded, racing and pounding. tensing with panic, your hands frantically moved, striking at his navel and thighs. even your legs were in alarm, unstill towards the other end of the bed.

jeno groaned, smacking your cheek. another slap followed the sizzle, straight against your chest. “calm the fuck down,” he hissed, raising his arm in preparation to hit you again. “i’ll let you breathe as soon as i come, so you better not get in the way, if you know what’s good for you.”

even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stay calm. your body physically couldn’t handle it, responding the only way it knew how, trying to protect you. somebody had to. you closed your eyes, face warm with tears and panic, and you tried to brace your hands on the sheets, anything to comfort and stabilize yourself.

it got to a point where jeno couldn’t hold back anymore and he climaxed with a prolonged, guttural groan, hips still brutally smacking into your mouth as he painted your tongue and the back of your throat with his cum. he went as far as to grab your head again, forcing himself onto you as deep as he could go, and demanding, “swallow it.”

like hell you would. you pushed him away, coughing and choking as soon as you did, drops of cum pooling from your mouth and some of it flying here and there in the midst of your coughing fit.

irritated, jeno pressed his tongue against the roof his mouth. “you’re so fucking useless,” he groaned, grabbing his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants and quickly turning on the camera. “look at you. sitting here choking on my cum. you want it again, don’t you?”

you sat up, nearly tumbling over the edge of your bed from the intense convulsing, and turned to face the other way as you hunched over, tightly clasping your sheets. “fuck off, you got what you wanted!” you rasped.

jeno laughed. you sounded so gravelly. “you’re right. i did,” he replied, putting back on his pants and pocketing his phone. “so, tutoring. i’ll see you tomorrow. nighty night, cheerleader.”

he gave you a pat on the head and turned, heading straight for the door.

▸ hard feelings

something about today was different than usual.

when you woke up, you had felt a shift in the air, but you’d chalked it up to being nervous about the final you had in three hours.

but when you finally went to go take it, however, you quickly realized that the unsettling feeling you had was not simply pre-exam jitters. it was something much more sinister than that. with the status you held on campus, you were used to being watched and gawked at, but this was different.

it felt like everybody and their mother was looking at you.

you were confused. you had been the subject of this much attention before, but only once; it was a couple years back when someone had spread a dirty, foul rumor about you. there was a social media page for your school called top ten, mostly used to shame women for their sexual exploits, but some men made their way on it too. that was how you heard about johnny’s clap rumor.

long story short, a rumor about you had originated there and it had taken you weeks to clear your name. but by that time, there was already another slut of the week. you were lucky to have your situation not only be false and debunked, but word of mouth. only the most unlucky of people, like hyeri, got images or videos of themselves posted.

and you were a community favorite. you would understand if you were new, but you had built a reputation around here. why would anybody believe floating rumors about you now?

but the abundance of stares didn’t end there. even in the cafe, you had caught someone watching you a little too hard to be a casual leer of admiration. and you were determined to find out why.

fortunately, you were able to find jennie and roseanne walking and talking in the courtyard, and you called out their names to stop them.

jennie turned first, and you watched her smile drop in real time. she glanced around, frantic, as if she was worried about someone watching her too.

roseanne smiled thinly, halfheartedly lifting her hand to wave. “hey,” she greeted quietly, matching jennie’s nerves.

they knew something you didn’t and it was glaringly obvious. “what’s going on?” you asked. “everyone’s looking at me and i know i’m not going crazy yet.”

jennie and roseanne glanced between each other, as if they both had bad news but neither of them wanted to be the one to tell you. after a few seconds, jennie groaned and said, “you might want to check top ten.”

your brows furrowed. you, on top ten? again? god, people could be so infuriating. “ugh, what rumor did they spread about me this time?”

jennie winced, which only made you more anxious. “it’s not just a rumor,” she whispered. “…it’s a video.”

“video?” you echoed in disbelief. that didn’t make sense. you hadn’t been with anyone except…except jeno. you tensed with anger.

roseanne opened her phone to show you the video that had been posted. it was an anonymous submission that claimed to be a recording of you. unfortunately, it was you, bits of your chest exposed from jeno reaching into your shirt and drops of cum landing there as you fought for breath. your face wasn’t visible, but there were some other distinguishing signs, like your hair and skin and sheets.

your heart thudded and your shoulders went cold, but your eyes were scalding. you were well aware that jeno didn’t like you, you didn’t exactly love him either, but you never thought he would stoop low enough to hurt you like this.

“i’m sorry,” roseanne apologized, dropping her phone in her purse when you were done. the video was only a few seconds long, but the damage was forever. “but don’t worry. it’s not like it’s top three worthy. everyone will move on next week.”

jennie nodded in agreement and briefly patted your back. “yeah. we’ll hang out again when this all blows over, i promise.”

then, they walked away. leaving you reeling with ache and betrayal. your friends didn’t want to be seen with you anymore. you were an embarrassment.

you swallowed the bitter feeling scorching up your throat and tapped your pockets for your phone, knowing there was one person you needed to see.

you: you and i need to talk. right now.

jeno: about what?

you: don’t play dumb, i know you sent that video in!

jeno: maybe u should have swallowed

you: you know what, i don’t need you. i never have. and i don’t want your help anymore. just leave me alone

jeno: [one attachment]

jeno: you sure about that? because i’m sure there’s plenty of people that would love to see the version with your face in it

you gawked, hiding your phone screen against your chest while glancing around to make sure no one could see.

adjusting your brightness, you unlocked your phone again and texted him back hurriedly.

you: why are you doing this?! i’ve never done anything to you

jeno: this is bigger than just you and me

jeno: now if you don’t want everyone to see that pretty face, come put those lips around me again and we can work something out

and that was how it started. though you hadn’t had the upper hand in weeks, this was the moment you completely lost it. what was once an arrangement for him to help you in exchange for your attention became a hole of misery that you couldn’t dig yourself out of.

one blowjob became two, and two became three until you started to immediately recognize what it meant when you saw his name appear on your screen, knowing what it was before he even asked. not that he ever technically asked. it was always a command, a claim to your body wherever and whenever he wanted.

if you tried to be strong, if you tried to break free of him, he always threatened to make sure that recordings of you on your knees for him went up for all the world to see and no one would ever think of you the same way again. he was more than willing to taint the pretty, perfect image of yourself that you presented to the world.

you felt stuck, trapped. isolated with nowhere to go, no way out. you tried to conjure up a way to escape this situation, but you couldn’t think of anything feasible. if you wanted to protect what was left of your social life and dignity, if you wanted to go outside without being ashamed, your only option was to be compliant.

no matter how many late nights and sore throats you had to go through.

you were in the middle of dozing off, your head leaning off to the side, when the sound of your phone ringing suddenly jolted you awake. you were tempted to ignore it until you saw the contact and begrudgingly pressed the phone to your ear. “hello?” you grumbled.

“i’ve been texting you,” jeno said, sounding miffed.

you sighed, glancing over at the clock on your nightstand. “it’s literally two in the morning,” you complained. “i just got home from cheer practice and i’m trying to study for my last final. i haven’t even showered yet.”

“aw, poor thing,” jeno crooned, pretending to care. “come over.”

you heartless, selfish bastard, you snapped in your head. of course, you were in no place to say that out loud, so you settled for a calm, “okay,” and hung up.

stifling a yawn, you grabbed your keys and lazily stepped into a nearby pair of shoes, stretching your arms above your head before willing yourself to get up from your desk chair. then, you accidentally scraped your leg against the bottom drawer of your desk, which you’d accidentally left open.

“ow!” you cried out, bending down a little. “god, why does this world hate me? what did i do wrong?”

it was a wonder you managed to make it to jeno’s apartment without getting into a wreck, although at this point, you wouldn’t care if you had as long as it killed you. or put you into an indefinite coma.

on the other hand, jeno seemed strangely enthusiastic to see you and looked full of life and energy. “there you are, cheerleader,” he said, pulling you in to hug you from behind. he led you over to his couch, much like he always did.

you covered your mouth with your elbow as you yawned. “can we get this over with? i’m sleepy.”

jeno chuckled. “i don’t want you to suck me off. not right now.”

your brows furrowed, wondering if you had heard him right. if not for that, then why were the hell were you here?

“i’m sad,” jeno said, not even attempting to keep the smug smile off his face. “i need you to cheer me up.”

you blinked at him like he was stupid. “cheer… you up?”

jeno nodded his head, glancing you over with a grin. you looked like hell. partly because you were so obviously exhausted, but he knew he’d been having an effect on you too. “yeah, cheer me up. you’re a cheerleader,” he reminded, sounding proud of himself. “i want you to do your routine for me.”

you gawked in disbelief and whined, “i’m not even in my uniform.”

“so?” jeno asked. “those bones might be tired, but they still work. matter of fact, take everything off.”

you were quick to exclaim, “what the hell? jeno, can i please just do it later? everything hurts.”

“take everything off,” jeno repeated, his voice more stern this time. “and move your ass.”

defeated, you reluctantly began to peel off your clothes, ignoring the way jeno shamelessly ogled you for the sake of your own comfort and tugging your shirt from above your head. you couldn’t even look at him as you abashedly stepped out of your shorts and panties.

what was even more mortifying was having to perform every stupid little routine for him with your entire body on display and your chest bouncing with every motion. putting on the sweet, forced smile and calling out the chants you’d memorized, all the while ignoring how your bones ached.

when you were done, he made you sit in his lap so he could touch you as he pleased, paying no mind to the way you squirmed uncomfortably.

you cried enough tears to occupy a sixth ocean the next day. you weren’t exactly sure why. you just remembered miraculously waking up in your bed, sitting up and staring into empty space, and the water crashing down after a few minutes. it took you even longer to notice you were sobbing.

after a couple of meaningless hours, you got the random urge to call your moan, yearning to hear her voice. “mommy?” you said when she picked up.

“she calls,” your mother chirped, pleasantly surprised. “hi, baby. i was starting to wonder if you’d forgotten about little ole’ me. you know, you never come see me anymore.”

you forced yourself to laugh, trying to strip your voice of the agony so that she wouldn’t notice. “i know. i’m sorry,” you apologized quietly. “i’ll come see you soon.”

“you better,” your mother snapped playfully, no real malice in her voice. “now, what’d you call me for? and don’t say just to check up on me, because that’s a damn lie.”

“i miss you,” you confessed.

“a lie don’t care who tell it.”

“ma,” you groaned, knowing she was just messing around. “i swear i do.”

“mm-hm,” your mother hummed. you could already picture her in your head, eyeing you with suspicion, arms folded over her chest. “let me guess why you really called. you’re having boy trouble.”

your eyes flickered in surprise. how did she know? you doubted it was exactly what she was thinking, but she was close enough. “yeah, something like that.”

there was no doubt that your mother sounded excited. you had always seem thoroughly uninterested in boys and dating, and while she was thankful when you were a teenager, it was a little worrying now. “it’s about time,” she said, clasping her hands together. “tell me all about it.”

you sighed, wondering how you could tell her about jeno without making her fret. she had gotten all pumped, you didn’t want to tear her down and ruin everything. “well, there’s this guy i met almost two months ago. at first, i didn’t feel anything for him. he was just another boy, you know. someone i could keep around for a good time, not a long one.”

your mother hummed again. you could hear metal pans clacking against her counter and assumed she was cooking. she always did that.

taking a deep breath, you continued, “but everything changed. he’s different from every other guy i’ve dealt with. he doesn’t just do what i say because i say so. and as the weeks passed, he’s started listening to me less and less than he already was.”

your mother chuckled. “and you didn’t like that, huh? got your mother’s stubborn heart and indomitable spirit.”

in truth, you didn’t think you had half of your mother’s strength, but you would never tell her that. as far as she knew, everything was going perfectly in the life you’d created here on campus. and it probably was the last time you’d spoken to her. “yeah,” you replied, wishing that were true. “i don’t like it. he makes me feel something i’ve never felt before.”

“he makes you feel powerless,” your mother told you. “he’s got you feeling weak because he’s the first man you’ve ever met willing to stand up to you. trust me, i was surprised the first time too. that’s how you got here.”

“ma,” you groaned with a wince.

she laughed. the sound made you happy, something you hadn’t been so certain you were capable of feeling anymore. “i’m just keeping it real.”

you thought about her words. she may have been way off in her perception of what this relationship between you and jeno really was, but she wasn’t wrong about how he made you feel. weak, powerless. suddenly, this consuming feeling you’d been having for weeks finally had a name, and yet that made it even harder to come to terms with.

because you didn’t want to be powerless. you wanted to be in charge, in control. you hated when things didn’t go your way, and more importantly, you hated when there was nothing you could do about it. it was supposed to be you wielding power over people’s head, not being crushed beneath the weight of tyranny.

and it was then you fully realized the scope of your feelings; you absolutely hated lee jeno.

▸ cheerleader? breed her!

standing there in a skimpy dress, face done and your feet clamped in heels that made you four inches taller, you didn’t feel like yourself.

you thought that you would. in truth, you hadn’t feel like yourself in months. today marked a little over two months since you made the mistake of beginning that agreement with jeno and you regretted it more than anything. he had completely ruined you, your life, and everything that made you feel whole.

there were pieces of yourself that you would never get back, thanks to him. it was true that everyone had forgotten about the ordeal regarding the recording of you, but not without cost. it was a price you were still paying everyday; even when you weren’t on your knees or otherwise commiting demeaning acts for the sake of jeno’s entertainment, you were hurting and mourning yourself.

you were starting to wonder if it was worth it. obviously, you liked being respected amongst your fellow students, but you were no longer certain if their respect was worth the price of your sanity. it was hard for you to even have basic interactions without giving away how incredibly lonely and isolated you felt, how trapped and doomed you were. helpless and powerless.

jeno came up behind you, startling you. he was like a wolf and you were a little lamb masquerading as a wolf. “there you are, baby,” he said, snaking his hands around your waist. he seemed to love doing that. “did you know our anniversary was a few days ago?”

you scoffed. the two-month anniversary of the worst decision of your life to date. there was nothing you would’ve give to undo it. doing your homework yourself would have spared you so much unnecessary pain. “stop doing that,” you whined, scanning the party. “someone will see.”

jeno chuckled, clearly not giving a damn. “unlike someone, i don’t really care what people think about me.”

you wished you didn’t care. there would always be a part of you that cared, that was so afraid of what people could say about her that she would do anything to tailor her image perfectly. matter of fact, it was all you had cared about in high school, and every year after that was spent maintaining the brand.

jeno’s hand went from your waist to your ass, making you tense in his grasp. “you know, i think i deserve some kind of compensation for putting up with you for two months.”

you deserved that too. freedom. being unshackled from his cruel, unrelenting orders was the one thing you wanted most and the one thing he refused to give you. “don’t you have your compensation almost every day?” you asked irritably.

“that’s not nearly enough,” jeno insisted, squeezing your ass.

god, how greedy could someone be? it was like he wanted to bleed you dry until there was nothing left.

“you know what i want?” jeno asked huskily, leaning into your ear. “i wanna fuck you.”

your eyes widened a little. you had hoped this day would never come, even though you weren’t oblivious to the fact that jeno had steadily gotten bolder in his interactions with you, the things he made you do for his satisfaction becoming entirely more erotic.

grabbing your arm, jeno started to lead you away. “come on, let’s go.”

you rooted in place, nearly stumbling. you didn’t want to go anywhere with him, especially if it meant putting up with his insatiable urges. “jeno, i don’t want to,” you said, trying to push at him.

jeno scoffed, wondering when you would realize that he didn’t care what you wanted and you had no way of winning. “if you want to make a scene in front of all these lovely people, be my guest,” he hissed in your ear.

panicked, you glanced around the crowd in search of someone that could save you. it was like everybody was looking at you until you actually needed them to.

then, you locked eyes with jungwoo. matter of fact, it seemed like he’d been looking at you much before you’d even glanced in his general direction. he saw you, saw the way jeno was holding you roughly, saw the obvious stiffness on your face, saw the pleading look in your eyes; but ultimately, jungwoo saw the image of you letting him down after bleeding him dry for half a year, and he turned away.

your shoulders slumped in defeat.

jeno started dragging you toward the stairs, pushing past a bunch of drunk people dancing on each other. your heart was thumping, and your whole body was rigid with nerves as you tried to think of a way out of this even though you knew there was no option without consequences.

just your luck, the bathroom jeno hauled you too was empty. he pushed you in and locked the door, pressing you against the counter. you gasped and glanced at your reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing yourself. “jeno, please,” you whispered, trying to plead with him. “please, don’t do this.”

jeno didn’t seem moved by your begging, but he did, however, appear amused. “why are you acting so sensitive about this after all we’ve done together? it’s like you’ve never gotten fucked or something.”

you swallowed, not saying a word.

the silence was very loud, very telling. jeno arched a brow, a realization dawning on him. “you really have never been fucked,” he said, surprised. “damn, i should have figured that out when you were acting like you never sucked dick before.”

your face flushed with heat. it wasn’t like you were necessarily embarrassed about it, not until now. you had always taken it as something to pride yourself on, being fuckable but untouchable. “you say that like it’s a bad thing,” you replied, glancing down at the sink to avoid eye contact.

jeno chuckled. it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he had been convinced that you were completely pretending to be a goody two-shoes. to know there was at least one percent of you that was still pure amazed him. he lifted the skirt of your dress with his hand and brought it between your legs, asking, “what, you just never find anyone worthy enough for your perfect, sacred pussy?”

you gasped out when he touched you there. his fingers circled your clothed cunt, thumb digging into your inner thigh. feeling scandalized, you grumbled, “maybe i’m just not interested.”

jeno shook his head, astonished by the amount of attitude you still had after all these months and determined to break it out of you. “and maybe i just don’t care if you’re interested or not.”

it went without saying that jeno always made you feel like some kind of object, but this was next level. “this is dehumanizing!” you exclaimed.

hearing you, of all people, talk about dehumanizing made for an interesting conversation. big, calloused hand pressing harder into you, he asked tauntingly, “doesn’t feel good, does it?”

your glossy, painted lips were parted, unable to breathe through your nose. your eyes burned with the threat of tears and it was becoming second nature for them to shed whenever jeno was nearby. “i don’t understand,” you whimpered, trying to free yourself, but to no avail. “why are you doing this to me? what have i ever done to deserve this?”

jeno could feel you struggling, trying to push him off you, but all it did was move your hips against his rapidly hardening cock. he groaned, grabbing hold of your ass and pushing you further back against him. “fuck, just like that,” he growled. “haven’t i told you this already? this is bigger than you and me.”

it wasn’t lost on you that jeno obviously had heard stories about you from other people, stories of happenings you probably couldn’t deny, but it had nothing to do with him. “look, if you’re doing all this to get back at me because i hurt one of your friends or something, i’m sorry, i really am. but i can’t do this anymore, jeno. i want to stop, please. please let me go on with my life.”

“what a privileged response,” jeno hissed without concealing his vitriol. at the same time, he kept palming you over your panties, noticing them beginning to cling to your cunt, and tore your underwear to the side to insert a pair of fingers inside. “what about all those girls whose lives you ruined? i’m sure they wanted you to stop. and you didn’t until they were too humiliated to show their faces around here again and you had no choice.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat. he knew about the girls? “jeno, i haven’t done that since freshman year,” you told him, desperately trying to reason with him.

two loud, harsh smacks echoed in the tiny, crowded space of the bathroom, followed by a gasp consequently. your pussy stung, your head jerking around to look at jeno. “do you really think that matters?” he asked, grabbing your hair to turn you back around just as quickly, as if you didn’t deserve to look at him. “you think that matters when the pain you’ve done to them is permanent? they don’t forget. and they damn sure don’t forgive you.”

you tensed, hating the way your walls were gripping and gushing around his fingers. “so what? you think you’re god or something? is this you punishing me for my sins? you’re not exactly what i would call a saint, either.”

“me and you, we’re not the same,” jeno remarked, a nip to his tone as if you needed the reminder of how much he disliked you. “you only pick on people that you think are below you somehow. people you think won’t fight back.”

“i know i’m not a good person,” you admitted in between gasps, thighs straining as his fingers pumped into your pussy harder, faster, reaching places you’d never touched on your own. “ i know i don’t deserve to be happy. maybe i don’t even deserve to be treated with respect, but please leave me this one thing. spare me just this once.”

jeno laughed cruelly, pulling his fingers out of your drenched hole and smearing your juices all over your folds and thighs. his finger unintentionally swiped over your sensitive clit, making your legs quiver and your stomach tighten, sucking in itself.

“damn, baby. you really know how to hurt my feelings,” jeno said, voice dripping with sarcasm. he withdrew his fingers, bringing them into his mouth for a taste. “you don’t want me to fuck you that bad?”

your heart was spiking with dread, thumping belligerently in your chest, your ears, and between your legs. no one had ever made you feel so vanquished.

“take my dick out,” jeno said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “hurry up.”

you sighed anguishedly, turning around to undo his pants and slip his aching dick out of its confinements. for months, jeno had been suppressing the urge to fuck you, wanting to wait for the moment where it would be most pivotal.

getting a hold of your throat, jeno roughly yanked you flush against him the second you whirled back around to face the tiny bathroom counter, making you stand tall against his chest. his voice was almost as rough as the hands that held you. “put it in.”

you gawked, shaking your head.

his fingers tightened dangerously around your windpipe, making your damp eyes widen and your jaw slack against his whitening knuckles, maybe half a wheeze making its way out your throat before he warned, “if i have to fucking tell you again, i’m gonna crush every bone in your goddamn neck.”

with no other option, you meekly reached behind you to grasp him in your quivering hand, aimlessly steering him to your hole and sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as the tip brushed past your dripping folds. jeno released a shaky breath, slapping your hand away and rutting his hips into you from behind, sheathing himself inside in one go.

he slackened his unforgiving grip on your throat, shoving you back against the counter none too gently, but you still felt like you couldn’t breathe when he entered you, a mangled whimper echoing out. your fingers desperately braced the edges of the counter for purchase as you tried to will yourself to inhale, but it was like you were choking.

jeno had a death grip on your thighs, forcibly pushing them apart a little more as he coated himself with the creamy, hot wetness of your unwanted arousal. “mm, hard to believe you don’t secretly want me when you’re sucking me in like this, baby,” he said, proud.

you shook your head in denial, face flushing with a heat that spread to your ears and neck. it didn’t help that there were beads of salty, hot tears pouring down your face and reducing your vision to one big, hazy blur. you didn’t want him, not even a little bit. but you couldn’t control the way your body was responding.

the lewd, wet smack of his cock thrusting deeply into your tight cunt rang out so loudly that you wanted nothing more than to hide into oblivion and never be seen again, mortified. it made things seem so much different than they were. his long, thick cock was stretching you beyond the cusp your limits and making you gape.

“i’m so nice to you,” jeno said, tipping his head back. you could see his chest rising and falling through his clothes, his body taut with pleasure and excitement. “i’ve been holding back for so long, trying not to fuck you. won’t keep me out this pussy now. i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out. have you at practice limping.”

your knees, wobbly as they already were, began knocking into the cabinets at the bottom of the sink. you winced your eyes closed as your fingers curled around the edge of the counter roughly enough to change the color around your knuckles, hoping to think of something, anything, to take you out of the moment.

but it was too hard. you couldn’t ignore the throb of your gushing walls as they kneaded his cock, making him grunt in your ear as he leaned over your backside. you couldn’t ignore the faint sting of his nails stabbing your hips and his heavy palm slapping repeatedly against your ass. and you definitely couldn’t ignore the dirtiness staining you from head to toe.

sure, it felt good, his body rocking against yours steadily, but it didn’t feel right. many nights you had pictured what losing your virginity would be like, both the way that it was supposed to look and the way that you were more inclined to, but this was neither; it was heartless, it was punishing, and it was brutal.

jeno grabbed you by your hair and forced you to look into the mirror, yanking your head up. “there it is,” he spat, words sounding painfully familiar. “there’s the real you.”

your hair was messy from him tugging it every which way, treating you like a doll to mishandle. your makeup was ruined from your sobbing, the path of your tears harsh against everything else. your eyes were red and your right lash looked like it was barely holding on, the effect of rubbing at your face.

jeno watched you take in the destroyed sight of yourself, practically hearing the critical thoughts hopping in your mind. “this is what you really are. this is what you’re sucking my dick to keep hidden from the world. is it worth it, baby? or do you just like the way i taste on your tongue?”

no, it wasn’t worth it. you were beginning to understand that now. he was taking too much from you, too much of your peace and too much of your sanity. maybe it would be better to be judged and lonely but free than to be loved by people whose opinion of you could change on a dime anyway at the expense of your soul.

your pride had been buried a long time ago, brutally murdered in her sleep. “jeno, please stop. i’m uncomfortable,” you complained, tearing your eyes away from your reflection in shame.

jeno smacked your ass again, making you cry out sharply. “you just love being the victim when it’s convenient for you, huh?”

“i’m sorry!” you whimpered. “i don’t know what you want me to do. what do you want? just tell me.”

jeno snickered, running his hands over your hips and waist to knead the flesh. then, he brushed your hair out of your face, nibbling at the skin behind your ear before growling, “you know what i want, cheerleader? i want to assassinate all there is that you love about yourself and leave everything else untouched, so that you understand not why everybody hates you, but why nobody loves you.”

those words hit you straight in the gut. for the first time, you had no retort, no comeback.

hips beginning to move faster, jeno continued, “the boys don’t love you, they just want to fuck you. they would kill to be as deep inside you as i am. the girls sure as hell don’t love you. they either want to be you, or they resent you for beating their asses. and don’t get me started on those girls you call friends.”

“jeno, stop,” you whispered, an agony vicious enough to rip through flesh tearing you straight in half.

but jeno didn’t listen. he wasn’t done, not until he made his point. “don’t think i didn’t notice how lonely you were for the whole week everybody was talking shit about you. they didn’t want to touch you with a six foot pole, did they? they don’t want to be seen with you unless it gives them a good rep.”

there was a pang in your chest. you didn’t want to admit it, but that cut deep. you had heard people say mean things about you before, it was to expected when you were an emblem of popularity on campus, but few things had reached you where it hurt.

jeno stroked your messy cheek, almost with affection. “but it’s okay. because you want to know something, baby? it was hard for me to admit it to myself, but you truly fascinate me. i can’t get you out of my head sometimes. you piss me off every time without fail, but i keep coming back to you. i like you, baby. if no one else does. you grew on me.”

you weren’t sure if that was supposed to make you feel better, but it didn’t. if anything, you only felt more heartbroken and wounded not only by his words, but by your inability to counter them. it truly dawned on you, right then, just how alone you were.

jeno threw his head back, grunting. his hips were moving with a mind of their own, eager to finish. “fuck, i’m gonna come.”

your eyes went wide in panic, remembering that he had gone in bareback.

“jeno, don’t…”

before you could even finish your statement, jeno clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling your protests into his pale palm. “you know what guys at my school used to say about cheerleaders?” he asked, obviously not expecting a response. “‘see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader.’ ‘cheerleader? breed her.’”

you thrashed, but it was pointless. those thick, burly biceps of jeno’s were one of the first things you noticed about him and they weren’t just for display. he held you in place as he quickened his pace again, his thrusts unrelenting.

with a couple more quick yet shockingly rhythmic thrusts, jeno emptied his load deep, deep inside you. he moaned, moving his hands from your mouth to your hips to keep himself steady as he reeled from the pleasure of a mind-numbing orgasm. “goddamn,” he cursed, panting for breath.

you stifled a small noise as you felt his warmth flooding into you, unsure how to feel at this point.

to your surprise, jeno started fucking you again, never once daring to pull out as if he was determined to fuck every drop of his sticky cum as deep inside you as it could reach. his stringy, thick load gathered on his dick and inside your pussy, leaking down your thighs as he kept going.

you gasped out, moans involuntarily leaving you as you were stuffed full of him over and over. you didn’t mean to, but it was impossible to control.

then, jeno stuck a hand between your legs and rolled his thumb over your clit, which didn’t help. you cried out, tensing. “jeno, stop! it’s sensitive.”

“that’s the point, dummy,” jeno replied, stimulating your clit with his hand while simultaneously pumping himself into you from behind.

your core tightened, heat wafting over you as your chest heaved wildly. “what are you doing?” you stammered.

jeno smiled, watching in the mirror how your face tensed with a blend of confusion and ecstasy that you couldn’t rein. “you really think i’m an asshole, huh? i’m trying to make you come. relax and let me.”

you shook your head. you didn’t want to come, not for him, and most definitely not on his cock for him to feel every unintentional shudder of your pussy as it gushed and pulsed with hot, sweet release; that would be embarrassing.

that made jeno chuckle. “no? you don’t wanna come for me, baby?” he asked, furrowing his brows playfully as he tilted your face back up to the mirror with a push of your jaw. “come on, let go. you keep saying i’m not a good guy, but you shoot me down when i try to be nice.”

you moaned again, against your own reason and better judgment. “please,” you rasped with half a breath.

“please, what?” jeno asked, rubbing you with just a pinch more force. “do you even know?”

god, you hated him; you absolutely despised him. but damn, if it didn’t feel good to have someone touch you after you’d spent so long avoiding sex like it was something to be ashamed of.

and this? this was definitely something you were ashamed of.

and yet the most shameful moment, perhaps, was when you finally couldn’t resist the pleasure of his big, long fingers twirling around your sensitive nub and his brutal hips smacking into you with a vengeance, clamping around him as you orgasmed with a loud cry and the heat shot through every corner of your body.

“shit,” jeno hissed, the feel of you finishing around him draining the cum from his balls for a second time.

your jaw slacked, overwhelmed by how you felt completely and utterly stuffed, ropes of his cum filling you to the hilt. jeno thrusted into you a little more, sending a flare through your back and shoulders, until he stilled for good. you could hear him panting behind you.

after a moment or two, jeno pulled out. hand between your thighs, he gathered some of his stringy release on his finger and brought it up to your lips. “open up. don’t make me say it again.”

you opened your mouth wide enough for him to insert two of his cum-coated fingers inside. then, you sucked at them and swallowed it down, knowing those would be the next words to leave his mouth.

jeno raised a brow, pleasantly surprised. he took his time to withdraw his fingers, enjoying the sensation of you licking them clean. “see, i knew you loved eating my cum.”

your face burned, but you didn’t have the energy to deny it. not after that. it felt like there was a gaping hole in your chest, a void that would never be filled.

“you’re learning,” jeno commented, humming in satisfaction. “good girl. you know, maybe one day we can get along. don’t you think?”

“yeah,” you murmured weakly. at this point, you would just go along with whatever he said. and maybe that was why he figured you could experience some peace together now.

keeping your dress bunched up, jeno grabbed some tissues from his left and started to wipe at you. “let’s get you cleaned up before we leave, cheerleader. don’t want the entire student body to see you like this, right?”

you whipped your head around, eyes widening in surprise. leaving to go where? certainly you weren’t going home with him after tonight.

“did you think i was kidding?” jeno asked with a sly smile, slipping your panties backing in place and giving your shoulder a fleeting kiss. “i told you, i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out.”

#ilysm #i knew i could always trust you #still fuck jeno

1K notes · View notes

straylightdream · 2 days ago

Text

always

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bang chan x f.reader

loving someone who can’t return your feelings can be heartbreaking.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): angst, friends to ??

𝐚𝐮(𝐬): nonidol au, underground boxer au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: injuries from fighting, cuts, mentions of blood and stitches, talks about powerful men who want to get leverage on Chan, lots of tears, and angst

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: pg 13

𝐚𝐧: sorry I haven’t posted a skz story in a minute.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

It had been a rough night to say the least. You laid in the same bed with a foot between the two of you. The room was so silent it seemed to leave a ringing sound in the room. Chan wore nothing but his boxers that sat low on his hips. He was laying on his back with his hand holding his side that had a pair of cracked ribs. His breathing was pretty uneven because he was in so much pain. The night had left him stumbling into your apartment with a deep gash on right below his collarbone, that you had to stitch up as he sat at your kitchen table. Unfortunately Chan coming to your apartment beat up wasn’t anything new. This was a side effect to him being an underground boxer.

Biting your bottom lip, you stared at the man who seemed to easily hold your heart in his hands. Luckily, he wasn’t careless with your heart, he was well aware you were in love with him. He went out of his way to make sure you didn’t get hurt, but knew at some point he was going to break your heart without even trying.

Laying on your side you reached your hand out slowly as it shook. You wanted to touch him to pull him close to you, but you knew you shouldn’t do it. He wasn’t your boyfriend, and probably was never going to be. A normal friendship between a boy and a girl normally didn’t involve the boy getting the shit beat out of him and then crawling through your window beaten. Normally the girl wouldn’t have to stitch him up and then beg him to spend the night so you would know he was safe.

His eyes were closed as he attempted to get some sleep, but he wasn’t going to be able to sleep, at least not until you had a very important conversation. You were well aware he wasn’t asleep even with him laying there with his eyes closed.

Your hand reached out a little more so you could touch him, but before you were able to touch him, you pulled your hand away. You needed to tell him that you couldn’t take this anymore, but you were terrified.

“Chan?” Your voice was shaky as you were unsure of if you should even be speaking.

“Yeah?” his eyes opened up as they blankly stared at the ceiling.

“What is going on here?” You whispered as tears continued to slide down your cheek.

“I’m a selfish asshole,” he groaned as his head moved so he was blankly looking in your direction.

“Why did you come to me and not Changbin?” You needed to know if he returned your feelings.

“Because for some reason even though I know I need to leave you alone, I can’t seem to stay away,” he sighed. He knew he was being selfish, that he was well aware of your feelings, and that he should respect them and stay away from you since he couldn’t give you what you truly deserved.

“I don’t want you to stay away, but I need you to know how I actually feel.”

He nodded his head and moved his arm from his stomach where it was resting onto the bed so it was about an inch from your hand.

“Chan I’m in love with you and I hate seeing you get hurt, but what hurts most of all is that I know that no matter how much I actually love you…” you hesitated knowing that no matter what was said right now you were never going to be able to take back anything you said. “I’m never going to be able to actually be with you. You won’t ever feel the same way, and I understand but I just need you to know that it hurts loving someone who doesn’t feel the same way.”

There was a silence between you as Chan was taking in everything you had just said to him. He had known for a while that you were in love with him, and he had even let you know that he couldn’t be with anyone as long as he was illegally fighting. It was too risky to actually be with someone. He made a lot of money fighting and he had made some enemies along the way.

“Okay I regret saying all that,” you mumbled at the fact that he hadn’t even said anything in response.

“Hey,” he reached out and rested his hand on top of yours as he lay still on his back. “Give me a second to take in everything you just said to me. I know that you’re in love with me, and believe me I return the feelings. I have for a long time, but…” he paused knowing that what he was about to say was going to hurt both of you. You attempted to brace yourself for whatever was going to come after the “but”. “I can’t be selfish and put you in harm's way. I love you too, but if someone finds out that I have someone that I love, you would be the first person that people would use to get leverage. Too many powerful men know who I am, and I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt because of me.” His hand that was resting on top of yours gave it a gentle squeeze.

Everything he had just said to you made your world feel like it was spinning. You knew Chan might have some sort of feelings for you, but you never actually expected him to say that he was in love with you too. As your brain was attempting to process the fact, he said he was in love with you, you were also realizing that it didn’t matter that you were both in love, because you couldn’t be together.

“What happens here then?” You sighed.

“I’m not sure exactly, I should probably give you space,” he moved his hand away from you.

You shook your head to yourself refusing to let him walk away from you right now, “Bang Chan you don’t get to tell me you love me, and then say you should give me space.”

He slowly moved so he was sitting up and you laid next to him still in bed wondering if he was actually getting up to leave. He stood up and groaned as he grabbed his side.

“Are you seriously getting up to leave?” You asked quickly getting out of bed. He groaned as he reached on the floor searching for his pants that were on the floor. “Chan,” you got up and ran to the other side of the bed so you were standing in front of him. He didn’t say anything as he reached his hand out so he was cupping your cheek. He stepped forward a little so there were a couple inches between you, you looked up at him as he held your face with one hand. The tension between them seemed to grow even more as you licked your lips as your breathing seemed to pick up. “Please don’t leave, I just poured my heart out to you,” you whispered.

“I’m so selfish when it comes to you, and it's not fair to you,” he sighed as his thumb brushed a tear off your cheek. “I want to give you the world, but I can’t.”

“I’m not asking for the world,” you reached up so your hand held his wrist. “I’m just asking for you to show me that you actually love me.”

“I can’t let you get hurt because of me,” he sighed. “I should start going to Changbin when I get hurt,” his hand was still holding your face as he attempted to convince you and himself that he needed to give you space.

“Chan, please don’t pull away from me, if you do that it will break my heart,” your hand held onto his wrist not wanting him to leave.

“We can’t be together, not right now at least,” he sighed.

Your breathing seemed to catch in your throat for a moment at what he had just said. The tears seemed to slide down your cheek even harder suddenly, and it was as if he held your heart in his other hand, and that he just crushed it.

“Okay,” you pulled away from him shaking your head. “You can have your space if you want it,” your voice was shaky as you were trying your hardest to not sob.

“You mean the world to me, and I don’t want to hurt you, but being with me isn’t safe.” He reached out to grab your wrist. He needed you to know that he wanted to be with you, but it just wasn’t an option. “I already lost my first love, I can’t deal with losing you too.” He never seemed to move on from his high school sweetheart passing in a tragic car accident almost a decade ago.

“Why does it feel like I’m losing you right now,” the tears continued to slide down your cheek.

“I’m sorry that can’t give you everything,” he took a step closer to you. You reached out and rested your hand on his chest and looked back up at him knowing that he was right. That even though you wanted nothing more than to be with him, you knew deep down inside that a lot of powerful men have lost money because of him. Chan is the best fighter in the city and that has made a lot of men angry. Ultimately it wasn’t safe to be with him. You had watched him lose his first love, and you knew how much that destroyed him.

“I understand we can’t be together, but I can’t deal with losing you as my friend too,” you sighed.

Silently he nodded his head and leaned forward so his forehead was resting against yours. You took a deep breath taking in the sudden closeness.

“I want to kiss you so badly, but I shouldn’t,” he mumbled.

Without saying anything you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. You kissed him as if this was going to be the only time ever that you were going to be able to feel his lips against yours. His strong hand moved up and rested on your cheek holding you close to him as your lips moved together. Pulling away slowly you let out a sigh.

“What happens between us Chan?” You asked, wondering if things would ever be the same after tonight.

He sighed and said, “we attempt to be friends.”

“Okay,” you said softly. You didn’t want to be only friends but you knew it was for the best. “If one day you walk away from fighting, would you actually give us a chance?” You asked, needing to know if maybe one day you stood a chance at being together.

He nodded his head and gave you a sad smile, “I’m not going to ask you to wait around for that day, but when I’m finally no longer a fighter I would like us to be together.”

“Let’s go back to bed,” you reached down and laced your fingers with his. You led him back towards the bed. He slowly got back in bed groaning at the pain from his cracked ribs.

You laid in the bed in the same positions you had been laying in before. Your hand was resting on the bed between you, slowly he reached over and laced his fingers with your.

“Thank you for always taking care of me,” he said softly.

“I’ll always take care of you,” you said knowing that no matter what happened between you, that you would always care about him.

“I hope one day that I’ll actually be able to give you the world,” he said gently, squeezing your hand.

You couldn’t help but smile at the possibility that maybe one day you could be together.

#bang chan x reader #bang Chan imagine #bang chan angst #my writing #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids angst #stray kids fanfic

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saintobio · 2 days ago

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blue christmas

a sincerely yours christmas special. non-canon. angst. 900 wc. part of the sy side-stories.

It was quiet that night.

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, and the scent of pine and cinnamon lingered in the air while the warm glow of Christmas lights twinkled on the tree. Outside, snow drifted lazily to the ground, covering the surroundings of your home in a soft, pile of white. It felt peaceful—almost too peaceful—and you sat back on the couch, lounging after a nice Christmas dinner with your teenage son, Sachiro, who cradled a mug of cocoa in his hands beside you.

You smiled faintly, admiring how much he had grown, and how this quiet night seemed so far removed from the all the drama that had once filled your life. But the comfort of the moment didn’t last long before he spoke. His voice, deep like his father’s, broke the silence of your supposed peaceful night.

“Mom,” he began, “Why didn’t you ever choose to remarry Dad?”

The question hit you harder than expected, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the right words. Really, what were the right words? You had never been good at talking about these things, and you didn’t expect that your son would put you on the hot seat like this. The past, especially those connected to Satoru—sometimes it felt easier to leave them untouched, forgotten. As it should be.

You glanced at your son, unsure of how to explain the complicated web of emotions that tangled inside you. “I thought... it was for the best,” you said quietly, voice soft as you searched for something that sounded right. His question was too sudden to be given a decent answer. “You know your Dad and I just couldn’t make it work. And for you, for us, it was better this way.”

Sachiro nodded slowly as if he already knew the answer, yet his fingers tightened around the mug. You could see the way he was processing your words, as if he was hoping for better reasoning. He had never even known the sibling he had lost until recently, the gap that finally forced his father out of your lives. Sachiro only saw the quiet love that both his parents shared, but it wasn’t enough, not for either of you.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if my sibling were here?” he asked, clearly inciting. “If you kept her, mom. Would she be celebrating with us tonight?”

You felt the ache in your chest as the question landed. You knew Sachiro’s question came from a place of grudge, aiming really well at a spot that hurt the most. And it did good at bringing you a pang of grief from a memory you had tried to bury long ago. You weren’t numb. Of course the loss still stung, even all these years later.

“I think about it all the time,” you murmured, unable to hide the shame in your voice. “What she would’ve been like. How she would’ve looked like. But... I don’t want to remember, Sachiro. I’ve made peace with it.”

But he wasn’t done. “Then, why didn’t you try again?” His voice was so gentle, yet so curious. “Why didn’t you remarry anyone else? I mean... Dad’s married to someone else now. And they’re having another baby. Shouldn’t that be a sign?”

The words felt like a stab to your chest, your heart shattering with an emotion you couldn’t name. Satoru’s life had moved on without you, far far too long ago, yet every reminder of it still cut deep.

“I’m happy for him,” you said softly, the words stuck in your throat. “But that doesn’t mean I want the same outcome for myself. It’s... complicated.”

Marrying someone else again was not in your books.

You could feel the intensity of Sachiro’s gaze on you, as if waiting for more. But you didn’t have more to give. You didn’t know how to explain the parts of you that had been shattered, the pieces that had never fully healed. Even if your own son hated you for it.

“I just want you to be happy, Mom,” Sachiro said, turning away from you, his gaze landing on the Christmas tree. “I want you to have what you deserve. When I have my own family someday, I don’t want you to be spending your Christmas all alone.”

You wanted to tell him everything. How much you loved him, how much you would do for him. How hard it was to move on, how hard it was to see his father moving on with someone else. But the words needn’t be said. At least, not for tonight.

And then, just as quickly as the moment had come, it faded into a kaleidoscope of memories. The world around you shifted, and the warmth of the fire and the smell of Christmas began to dissolve. Suddenly, you were back in your bed, heart pounding recklessly in the darkness.

You woke up eyes wide in surprise, until the reality of your room finally made sense to you. You blinked, trying to steady yourself. It was a dream. It was all a dream.

Sighing, you let your head fall into your hands. And just for a moment, you let yourself mourn the future you would never have. The family you would never see, the happiness you could never quite reach.

But as the soft glow of the Christmas lights flickered in the silent night, you slowly allowed yourself to breathe. Tomorrow would come. But tonight, you would let the dream linger just a little longer.

#series: sincerely yours #sy drabbles

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astracora · 1 day ago

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The Morning After

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc

Warnings: Some hurt/comfort, semi-canon compliant heart condition, spoilers for current story release (Sylus Limited Myth mentioned).

Word Count: 1259

Written: 27th December 2024

Notes: Pre-relationship Sylus/MC, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory (Cat Curse MC). I take some liberties with what the game offers me.

Masterlist AO3

You’re pleasantly sore. A dull ache, soothed by oils and warm hands the night before. You’re not sure what you expected from sleeping with Sylus… it shouldn’t surprise you that he was gentle with you afterwards. Easing your aches, cleaning you up, feeding you. He had never made you feel like anything less than a treasure after that first meeting.

The need to sleep though, is strong. As good care as he took, Sylus Qin is a greedy man. As gentle as he is starving, treating you like an oasis in a desert. It’s both a terrifying feeling and an incredibly thrilling one.

His sheets are warm, but as you reach you hand out, he is not there to greet you.

Blood runs cold, broken heart stutters.

He’s gone.

Of course he’s gone.

Why wouldn’t he be gone.

He’s a fickle cat, as easily bored as he is amused. Short bursts of sharp emotions, that fade as quickly as they come.

Your sleepy pleasure drifts away from you, lost in a haze of self contempt. It is the downfall of extreme emotions, to be riding on a cloud in joy, and then crashing down to earth in sorrow. Hard enough to balance, without the added haze of pleasure addled brain. Still tingling from every touch, every kiss, every bite, every moan.

Hand pressed against your face, you roll onto your stomach, trying to force the feeling of inadequacy away.

You feel yourself on the verge of tears, irritated and hurting, but angry with yourself for feeling. For letting yourself feel like this.

Stupid.

Stup-

Fingers in your hair, tracing over the back of your neck, you jolt. Startled, fraying. Red rimmed eyes, and a sniffling nose to see Sylus sitting on the side of the bed. Coffee in hand, though he hates it. His eyes widen, blinking at your expression, before he places the coffee on the side table. Leaning down to look closer at you, hand on your face, holding you. “Kitten? What happened?”

You don’t know what to say.

I thought you had left me.

I thought you were disappointed.

I thought you realised I was too much work.

“You weren’t here.” You choke out, your hand pressing against his, holding it there. You want it permanently etched into your body. His hand prints on every part of you. His mark in your soul. You want him to be part of you more than you’ve ever wanted anything.

You hate yourself for wanting so much.

You watch as his red eyes burn, before he leans down, pressing his lips to your forehead, inhaling against your hair. He thumb continues to stroke your cheek and he speaks against your skin, “I have no plans to go anywhere without you, beloved.”

Your weak heart jumps, dances, skitters. It is hard not to. He is nothing if not good with words.

For a moment you stare at him, as he stares back. His eyes mapping out your features, sparkling gems glittering in his eyes. You wonder if you look closer could you really see his soul there. Eventually his staring is too much, and you pull the sheet up, though he stops you, head titled.

You almost laugh. He does resemble a dog sometimes… or perhaps more of a wolf. Something as wild as it is capable of domestic life.

“You’re staring.”

“Am I not allowed to stare?”

You tremble inside, and glance away, “I’m not used to it.”

“Am I the only one whose stared at you, kitten? I find that hard to believe.”

He does look doubtful, but you don’t really know how to answer him. It’s not the stare, it’s the things you can see in his eyes. The warm heat, the twinkling joy, the way he looks like every man in love, in every movie you’ve ever watched. Cynical though you are, thinking such a thing doesn’t exist.

Yet he stands before you, with that look. So much more alive than anything you could ever imagine.

You feel like crying again, but its not a bad feeling. This one feels freeing, warm. Like kisses on your cheek, and mumbled promises of adoration into skin.

“I think I’d be too much work for most.”

He laughs, “You are. Very difficult.” Now he lies down, on his side, staring at you, smirk showing his canines. Looking for all the world like a creature that can drag you to hell. Beautiful red eyes, snowy hair, a sculpted face you think any artist would weep at. He looks like he belongs in a world removed from yours.

Sylus takes your hand, rubbing his thumb over it, and places it against his lips, bites on the inside of your wrist, then kisses it. Eyes closing for a moment, freeing you from their grasp, as he exhales. Like you are air he needs to breathe.

“I enjoy the work though, kitten. I always will.” His eyes open, and grab you again, imprisoning you. Keeping you here, with him, “And you know I will never back down when I’ve decided something.”

Unfaltering. Unkillable. Unstoppable. You think of the words the twins use for their boss. If there is a single vision of Sylus it is a man who will stop at nothing to achieve what he wants. With violence, with money, with skill…

With heat and passion and pleasure.

You enter his arms willingly, if loving this man is a sin, you think you joined him as a fiend a long time ago. Before you even noticed it was happening. Sleep greets you once again, comforted at his presence, and relieved by him.

Perhaps that broken heart can beat a little longer for him.

———

He watches you fade into your dreams, and while he wants to join you, for a moment he just wants to be here. Real, and warm, and flesh and blood. You are in his arms, you let him touch you. He is surprised how much he still yearns for, like he has not scratched the surface of many years of need.

Of waiting, and hoping, and searching.

Of running up against the prison of fate, demanding he bow to its whims.

He cannot force the world to bring you to him, so he has to find you.

You think he can stop loving you, or find you too much. You fear he will wake up and regret it.

Sylus wishes you could see into his heart, and his soul. He wishes you could feel it thrumming inside of you, everyday, because you are the life of him. You are what gives him cause, him reason. You are a part of him, in all the ways that matter.

He hears you in his chest, he feels you in his bones.

He has chased you through worlds, and he will never stop.

There is a siren’s song in your very blood, and he will always listen to it.

You are all that he wants, and there is no time where that is no longer true.

Be he dragon, or man, he feels greed so fierce and powerful he knows it will never dim. No matter how long he gets with you.

As long as you extend your hand, as long as you smile, as long as you find pleasure with him, touch him, need him, want him… he will always be there, and always need and want and hunger for you.

There truly is no amount of work you can offer him, that does not thrill his soul to do.

#i am not proud of how the new event trailer made me feel #and i shoved this out to handle it #so ye #enjoy i guess #wonder writes #love and deepspace #sylus #reader x sylus #sylus x mc #lads x mc #lads x reader #sylus x reader #lads #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus

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revelboo · 1 day ago

Note

THE HOLIDAYS SPECIAL SHITPOST IS CANON??? Omg, and it’s not a one time thing, anybody can just watch it??? if its in idw does that mean the traveling mtmte can accidentally intercept it? Can anybody, not anybody but a bot, just yoink it? Neutrals just spreading it. Thinking about swindle, or somebody just sending off to different groups aside from the ones in earth. Overlord, Tarn, Kaon, the reason the decepticons lose the war is because theyre humanfraggers. But if it lands on anti-cybertronians hands it can be used for major propaganda :(

Yeah, I suppose it is now canon to the fics on the Masterlist under IDW/G1 🤣 I treat the ones under Lost Light as wholly separate. That little PSA is definitely not going to have the intended effect, though. There are a lot of lonely or just outright bored Cybertronians on both sides.

Everything Is Alright Pt 96

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Leaning his chin on a fist as you sit with your back to him on the other arm of his throne, he listens to you tell him about the wreck. About blundering into the middle of a fire fight between Starscream and the Autobots. About talking to him after he’d taken you and decided to keep you, asking him about his day and Megatron hears your voice soften with genuine affection. You talk about meeting Soundwave and the cassettes. Starscream’s failed attempt to free you giving him pause, because when has the Seeker ever cared for someone besides himself? But listening to you, it sounds like he’s learning to care. You leave out some things, he knows. Not mentioning how Star had claimed you. Or Soundwave. But finally you fall silent, little shoulders tense. And your story just leaves him more exhausted. Because he’s not sure what to do. Punishing Starscream will also punish Soundwave. And you.

• Behind you, Megatron is silent. For all you know, your story bored him so bad he fell into recharge. So it’s a surprise when he reaches and runs his servo against your side and you look up at him, those red optics staring at you. “You’re an incredible amount of trouble for being so small,” he mutters, chin still on his fist as the servo slides to tip your chin up. “But useful. That fool can’t act out for fear of you being harmed. He might be trained yet.” And he smiles down at you, that look making your skin prickle. Trained? “Don’t worry, I think you’ll enjoy helping.”

• “I’m not helping you make him miserable,” you say, pushing at his servo with warm little hands as your eyes narrow. That unexpected attitude sparking through him. He’s seen little glimpses of it amid the submissiveness, but usually you’re quick to hide it. To play at being docile. It makes him want to push to see how far you’ll bend before you lash out. And he’s curious despite himself. Remembering that little glimpse of you under the Seeker. The sounds.

• “I only want to reward good behavior,” he says, that smile becoming something wicked that makes you freeze. Because he’s not so scary or intimidating when he smiles, that severe face seeming younger, more open. Pushing away from his servos, you scowl at him, trying your hardest not to acknowledge that for a heartbeat you thought he was handsome. Absolutely not. “And you don’t really have any say in it, pet.”

• Stuck patrolling with Soundwave even though the communications officer isn’t at all suitable for this, Starscream knows it’s just so Soundwave can watch him. Make sure he’s not plotting and he hates it. Still needs to do more research and right now? He can’t even think about his plan or Soundwave will know. He has no doubt the other mech is eavesdropping in his mind. Spying. For Megatron. Frustrated, they walk their circuit looking for any sign of Autobots and coming up empty. The enemy quiet lately. And he almost wishes an Autobot would show up, someone to take his frustration out on. And even if he could plot, he’s too distracted with worry. Hates leaving you at Megatron’s mercy. He’s felt that mercy, bears the scars of it and you’re so small. So fragile.

• Feeling the Seeker’s thoughts seething almost out of control, Soundwave vents tiredly. Understands the worry, but he trusts Megatron. He’d tried pinging Rumble and Frenzy both and had only gotten a distracted ‘busy’ from Frenzy and a flicker of emotion he really doesn’t want to think too closely on. Almost sure both cassettes are busy with the same human Rumble had disappeared with. Hoping they don’t do anything too impulsive but also sure that they likely did. Neither had ever been great at thinking things through, preferring to act on impulse. Like you. Reaching for things you want no matter the consequences.

• Returning to base, Starscream heads for the bridge and his optics narrow to find no guards waiting today. Wings flaring, he strides inside and freezes. Hissing softly as Soundwave brushes past him and also stops. Because there’s Megatron sprawled on his throne, but he’s pulled a little table in front of him and you’re in the center of it in a nest of blankets, one draped around you so only your face is visible. It’s the embarrassed anger on your face that snares his attention. “If you hurt-”

• “Your little mate is fine. Just a bit put out. Did you patrol as I asked?” Megatron growls, cutting Starscream off. Sees the Seeker’s wings flick up, trembling with rage, but he sullenly nods. “Good. Claim your reward.” Flicking his servos at you as you stand, he growls softly. “The blanket?” Now you’re shooting him a sullen look, eyes narrowed as you let the blanket fall with your back to him. He can see enough, though. The delicate chains dangling from your wrists and throat, and the draped, sheer cloth that doesn’t even start to hide you. That covering had been a happy find amid the pile of soft things Starscream had for you and the look on your face when his Insecticons had fetched it to him along with the chain? That had been even better. Almost as amusing as leashing you and watching you change into your new covering while trying to keep yourself hidden from him. Those angry eyes doing things to him. “Mass displace and claim your reward.”

• Embarassed you look at Soundwave and Starscream. Soundwave frozen and Starscream’s optics are sliding over you hungrily despite how mad he looks. Part of him likes this, you think. Seeing you bound. It’s not like Megatron had touched you aside from attaching the chains about your wrists and throat. And there’s enough extra chain you’re not actually restricted, the chains looping up to the thin collar around your neck. Know it’s meant to mock you and infuriate Starscream and Soundwave. A punishment for them lying about you being a pet. Megatron trussing you up like a pet. A plaything. Soundwave moves first, hands on the table and lunging up as he mass displaces to drag you into his arms. Big hands running over you checking that you’re okay and reassuring himself. That concern taking the edge off your mortified anger. It’s not like Megatron hasn’t seen Starscream fucking you. Is the warlord playing chicken? Trying to shame Soundwave and Starscream for wanting you? Or does he just want to watch? “Star?”

• Soundwave’s hands are on your hips as you look back at him. Those chains making a silvery sound where they slide against Soundwave’s plating, your skin on full display through the sheer fabric you’re wearing. But he’s frozen trying to figure out the game. To humiliate him? To mock him? There’s an angle, but as you stare up at him he finds himself coming to you anyway. Mass displacing and reaching to touch you through the fabric. Pulling you back to him, Soundwave following with a soft growl. Aware of Megatron staring at him in challenge. Daring him. Ignoring the warlord, he brushes his mouth against your throat. “Are you okay?” Relaxing a tiny bit when you nod, soft hands touching his sides, running up his chassis. Tangling his servos in your hair, he pulls you into his arms. Growling when his arm bumps Soundwave, the communications officer’s hands on your hips so you’re pinned between them.

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #idw starscream #megatron x reader #soundwave x reader #idw soundwave #idw megatron

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crescenthistory · 2 days ago

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i’ll hold your hand through all of christmas day

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: Based on a DM request sent from this anon. Remus supports his partner through how grief affects their holiday celebrations — or; when everyone stays behind at Hogwarts for Christmas, you plan on sneaking off to visit the family grave. Luckily, you never have to do anything on your own anymore.

Words: 3.7k

Warnings/tags: gn!reader, grief and loss, vague talk of multiple losses intended to be universal (said to be family, but does not need to be biological), talk of a "family grave", visit to a graveyard, reader has a purposefully ambiguous background, feelings of heaviness, found family trope, established and secure relationship, hurt/comfort, lots of fluff, whipped!remus, domestic bliss (even the hard bits), crying and kissing

A/N: i hope this finds those who need it 🤍 you are never ever alone

It required some well-written letters to various homes, some strategic orchestrating and convincing, but eventually James Potter got his desperate wish – for all of his friends to stay at the castle for Christmas in their final year, to help truly commemorate the end of their time at Hogwarts. He even managed to sweet talk Regulus and his friends into joining, despite being the year below most of you. It would be the picture-perfect Christmas.

You hated to feel as if you were ruining that.

With all of your friends having moved into an unusually vacated Gryffindor for the week, making the empty common rooms and dormitories your own, you truly could not be happier. Most evenings were spent gathered around the fire, playing board games and telling stories, loud laughter rippling through the cozy air. You even got to spend most of it cuddled up with Remus under a blanket, presented with the perfect view of all of your closest loved ones finding love and contentment in each other.

You enjoyed the holidays, you enjoyed Christmas with all the snowy, candlelit and toasty atmospheres it involved. You enjoyed it even more when you had Remus softly singing Welsh folk Christmas songs in your ears with that soothing lilt that seemed to reach even your coldest bones. You enjoyed it all – on paper.

Despite yourself, the holidays always came with a certain blanket of heaviness for you; in every room filled with lovely people, you could almost see the shadows of those who weren’t here. The smell of gingerbread brought forth saddening associations before much else, and laughter had residue echoes that never escaped your ears. It was like this every year, the losses piled up by time only weighing you down further. For exactly that reason, you were one of the first people to enthusiastically agree to James’ masterplan, thinking that maybe it would be easier when you weren’t at home, surrounded by natural reminders of loss – but, turns out, those reminders are present everywhere when you’re looking.

And unfortunately you couldn’t help but look.

You hadn’t brought it up to Remus, not from thinking you couldn’t, but just not knowing how to. How do you begin to unpack the layers of grief that live beneath your skin? How do you explain the years of both with and without in a matter of minutes? You would rather hold him close and let him kiss you as you wallow in a solitude that he could certainly spot but deigned not to comment on.

There was only one exception to this, one tradition you refused to let go of, even as you all holed up at Hogwarts – on Christmas Day, you visit the family grave. You have done it every day since the first loss without fault, and you couldn’t bring yourself to break that pattern now, especially not when Hogsmeade is a mere walk away and you have received your apparition certificate already.

The problem there was how to slip away for a few hours without causing concern. With the lively bunch you had chosen as family, it would not be easy.

Around noon, after a hefty shared breakfast in your pajamas followed by Lily reading muggle Christmas literature aloud for everyone, you made the decision to retreat from the common room. By now, there were friends flurrying all around you, preparing to decorate the gingerbread wix you had made yesterday, and you hoped to be able to excuse yourself to get some fresh air in the middle of all the chaos. There would be enough hands on deck for the decorating without you, that’s for sure. Perhaps naively, you hoped you could use the momentum to go off on your own.

Definitely naively.

“Mind if I join you, dove?”

Remus’ voice was soft in that way where you can tell he has been perfectly content for a few days in a row, almost lazy in how he pronounced his words, yet the sentiment remained just as fiercely rich. If James Potter is the epitome of Christmas traditions, then Remus Lupin is the epitome of yuletide calm, and if he already was stupidly in love with you on a normal day, during Christmas there were no words to describe his attachment.

While it sullied your plans, your sad smile shone brightly just for him anyway. “Of course not, my love. Come, come.” You stretched out your hand towards him as you spoke, whisking him away towards the portrait door, fingers intertwined.

There were mumbles of “bye, lovebirds” and “see you soon!” called out behind you, but your heavy mind didn’t register much beyond the steady beat of Remus’ pulse that you could feel where your wrists touched. It was odd how easy it was for you to notice his heartbeat, it was as if you were searching for it at all times, but you embraced it happily, gratefully.

When in the much cooler, quieter hallway, you wandered silently down the halls together, hand in hand. You tried to carefully lead the way, moving your bodies in the direction of the castle entrance, with little to no reaction from Remus. His lips were just barely curled up into a smile, happy in the quiet with you.

Gods, you loved this boy.

Perhaps that in itself was enough reason to be direct with him about how you were feeling, but his serenity felt too holy to disturb.

“Are we going somewhere specific, dovey?” Remus asked lightly once the grand entrance was within sight – and just maybe because you had begun to appear flighty more so than melancholy.

You sighed and came to a stop, turning your body towards him. You bit your lip as you regarded his face, heart soaring at the attentive draw of his mouth, his eyes boring into yours, yet clenching in guilt at the furrow between his brows. With shaky fingers, you brought your hand up to cup his face and bring it towards yours, pressing a sweet kiss against the furrow to smooth it out.

When you pulled back, his smile had settled more assuredly.

“Actually, I have some errands I need to run in Hogsmeade today,” you said, trying to seem absentminded. “Since I needed some air anyway, I figured now was as good a time as any to head down.”

Remus’ head cocked ever so slightly to the left. “Great. What errands are we running?”

We. You felt your lips curl downwards ever so slightly in what you could only describe as a lovesick guilt-ridden frown.

“It’s more of a single-party errand run, love.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, and you found sudden interest in the statute behind his head.

Remus took a step closer to you, reaching out to grab your other hand and clasp both of them together, bringing your knuckles up to his mouth to kiss them soundly. “Dovey,” he said, almost chiding. “What’s going on with you, hm?”

There was no accusation in his words per say, just knowing. His eyes told the same story. You relaxed more in his grip, hands resting trustingly between his and your body slumping against him where you stood in a near-embrace.

Your eyes flicked between his two for a moment before sighing. “I… I have a Christmas tradition. One I can’t forego just because we’re spending it at Hogwarts.” You took a steadying breath. “I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you with it, because I trust you with everything, it’s just – I don’t know, it can be heavy. A lot to put on someone for the holidays. So I thought I could just head off for an hour now, and then we can cuddle up with that book later, yeah?”

Remus gave your hands a light squeeze before dropping them in favour of cupping your face. He engulfed your face in his big hands, tilting your chin up with his pinkies to meet his eyes more steadily. There was a certain sadness etched on his face, but it didn’t look to be because of you – rather it seemed to be for you.

“Whatever tradition you need to carry out, I will be there with you, lovely,” he murmured, stressing every word and chasing your gaze if it so much as flickered. “I plan on spending every Christmas with you for the rest of my time – might as well embrace it in full already.”

You almost felt like fighting back the tears that welled in your eyes; but his eyes begged you not to, and when a couple fell, he closed the minimal distance between you to catch them with his kisses. “Okay,” you whispered, no fight left in you – not that there ever really was any to begin with.

“Okay?” He was smiling now. “Then tell me what we’re doing for the next hour?”

You matched his smile, and it didn’t feel heavy to do so. “Every Christmas Day, I visit our family grave. You know, clean it up, light the candles, the sorts. Say Merry Christmas.”

You felt small as you spoke, but his hands on your face kept you grounded and the love dripping from his every move kept you assured. “Alright,” he said through a melancholy yet knowing smile. “That’s very alright, dovey. Is it in Hogsmeade or will we be apparating?”

That was all – no queries, no judgments, just inquiring about the mode of transportation. You wondered if he knew he was all you needed.

“No, it’s in my hometown. I figured we walk outside the wards by Hogsmeade and then apparate all the way. We can hold hands to make it easier, like in class.”

Remus chuckled, kissing your forehead before letting your face go in favour of bringing out his wand. “Questioning my apparition skills, are you?”

You actually chortled at that, at ease with his banter. “Oh, most definitely. Gotta keep an extra eye on you, Moony.”

He poked your side with his wand teasingly, muttering a quiet “minx” before turning the wand in the direction of your dorms and casting an accio. You quirked a brow at him, but before you could ask, he said, “What, you didn’t think I would actually let you walk out into English December wearing cozies?”

A second later, you saw your coats and scarfs come flying towards you two, and caught them before they dropped to a heap before you. Remus did the same, throwing his scarf over your head to begin wrapping it securely around you, letting no air flow in.

“What would I do without you, hm?” you asked teasingly.

Remus leaned in to give you a quick peck. “We will never have to know. You’re quite stuck with me, you see.”

Despite him pulling away to button his own coat, you chased after his lips for another kiss, bringing him back down to you with a hand to his cheek. “Well, if you insist Mr. Lupin,” you mumbled against his lips.

“I do,” he whispered in turn before circling his arms around your waist and parting your lips with his to give you a proper, confessional kiss. You could feel him smile against you when you began to come apart.

As you put on your own coat and ensured you both looked properly protected, you mused out loud, “Reckon we should warn the others we’re ditching for a while?”

Remus looped his arm around yours and began pulling you with him towards the exit with a rather cheeky grin playing across his face. “No, I think the coats flying past them might have given them an idea that we will be gone for a little while.”

The walk to Hogsmeade was brisk but comfortable, Remus never once straying from your side. When you occasionally in your distractedness didn’t walk straight and bumped into him, he smiled in that way that crinkled around his eyes, holding you even more securely.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Remus asked eventually. “Or them?”

You hummed, genuinely considering it for a moment. “I don’t think so,” you mused. “Not right now at least. Maybe it’ll come to me as we go along with the celebrations, though. A memory or two that I want to share, good or bad.”

Remus already knew the gist of your family and history with loss, and was painfully patient with you at every turn – and he readily accepted that that was enough for now. He let go of your hand only to wrap his arm around your shoulders and bring you closer to his side, dropping a sweet kiss to the crown of your head. “Sounds good to me, dove.”

“When do the apparition wards end, anyway?” you asked, musing through the horizon that was foggy with snow that was so light you couldn’t even feel it when it landed on you. “I’ve never apparated away from Hogwarts before.”

“I wouldn’t have expected you to, seeing as we only learned that earlier this term,” Remus teased, squeezing your shoulder. “You’re not that far ahead of the curve.”

You reached up to pinch his nose, delighting in how it scrunched up. “Maybe I am, what do you know?” you whispered conspiratorially. Then, you pointed to the first line of houses belonging to Hogsmeade that appeared. “Over there should probably be fine, though, I think.”

“Yeah, I reckon so. If not, it will be a good story to try and fail.”

“Always is, with you.” You brought him down for a sweet kiss when you came to a standstill right past the first line of houses. You sighed against him, heavier than you had intended, yet grateful for it to be let out.

He seemed inclined to agree, if the look in his eyes was anything to go by. Your patient, sweet, understanding boy.

“Ready?” you whispered, taking both of his hands in yours.

Remus squeezed them reassuringly. “Very.”

You closed your eyes in concentration, but suspected he didn’t do the same. With a deep breath, you focused your mind on the graveyard, visualising yourself stepping into it – you knew you were successful in the apparition when you felt a tug in your stomach and a darkness engulfed you before there was a distinctive soft ground beneath you, contrasting to the gravel you were on seconds ago.

The smell hit you before anything else. It smelled exactly like your hometown, an odd mix of childhood and the frozen earth. You opened your eyes to see Remus standing before the stonewall lining the graveyard, his head turned away from you to look at the view behind him with slightly parted lips. With his tawny curls slightly covered in the dew of melted snowflakes and his side profile on display, he looked rather angelic, which you thought fitting.

“It’s beautiful,” he commented quietly, finally turning his head to find you already looking at him. While it might have been the cold, you could have sworn a faint blush took over his cheeks.

You took a deep breath. “It really is. Oddly so.” You took a small step away from him, releasing his hands to smooth your own down the front of your coat, brazing yourself. “I’ll lead the way.”

Remus followed your lead both physically and metaphorically, quietly reading your mood and needs, at least as best as he could. He walked right behind you, not touching you and giving you space to take in being in this emotionally charged space, trusting you to reach for him when you need. At the same time, he took in the space on his own terms, letting his eyes roam over the stone structures, the lampposts and the frozen flowers.

“I haven’t been here since last Christmas,” you confessed quietly as you walked a path you knew by heart. “I feel like I probably should go more often, but I haven’t been able to.”

“There’s no right amount to visit,” Remus added lightly, smiling softly at the back of your head. “Only what’s right for you.”

“I don’t really know what’s right for me when it comes to this. I’m figuring it out.” You felt lighter at speaking the words out loud, realising with some coyness that perhaps that is why Remus often urges you too.

“That’s alright, too, dovey. There’s no rulebook, just a journey.”

You looked over your shoulder, allowing yourself to match his smile. “Wise man you are, Lupin.”

“Mm, glad to hear you finally admit it.”

The casual conversation might seem contrary to what you were doing and where you were, but at the same time, it wasn’t really. You tried to view this as visiting your loved ones rather than going to a graveyard – after all, you weren’t here for the graves, you were here for the people. And they would have wanted the easy, light conversations.

When your tombstone came into view, a certain feeling you were never quite able to name settled around your heart. A longing, but also a recognition. Almost a familiar face by now, just not quite the one you wished for.

“It’s this one,” you mumbled distractedly to Remus and made the final beeline for it. When you reached the plot, you came to a stand before it, just staring down for a moment. As Remus walked up beside you, you leaned your shoulder sideways against his, and he lifted his arm to wrap it around you.

Together, you stood there, regarding the names etched into stone, almost a minute of silence.

Once he deemed it safe to move, Remus dropped a kiss to the top of your head and bent down to pick up some twigs that had fallen from a nearby tree at the change of the seasons. Any questions died on your tongue when he brought out his wand and performed a quick transfiguration – suddenly, instead of holding dull and dead sticks, he held a wreath, all decked out with red ribbons, pinecones and Christmas decorations.

Silently, he held it out for you.

You looked between the wreath and Remus’ face, feeling stumped at the rather simple yet incredibly meaningful gesture. You opened your mouth, thank you already forming on your lips when he beat you to it.

“I know,” he whispered with a small smile.

You beamed back at him as you best could, slightly teary, and accepted the wreath from his hands.

Turning around to the grave, you came to a crouch beside it and placed the wreath for safekeeping on your knees as you brushed snow and leaves aside from the plot. You could easily use magic to do it, reenforce the spells you have already placed to keep the grave mostly maintained, but it felt good to touch it with your own bare hands, to do this act of service yourself. Even when you heard Remus hiss at your lack of gloves, casting him a somewhat sly smile over your shoulder to which he flushed once more.

As you went, you murmured quietly whatever you felt like saying to the inhabitants.

When you declared the grave properly dusted, you placed the wreath delicately in the middle of it, careful not to cover any of the writing on the stone. You did bring your wand out to magically light the eternal candles you had placed around the plot, casting extra protection spells to ensure they would burn through at least the rest of the year. If you could call a grave cozy, yours was nearing it, and it warmed your heart, even as a tear rolled down your cheek.

Remus came to crouch beside you, and you took his hand in yours, swallowing your apology for how cold it must be; he didn’t seem to mind.

“I wish you could have met them.” You didn’t think you would say the sentence before you did, but once it was out there, you felt no need to fight it.

“Me too,” Remus said wryly, squeezing your hand and rubbing his thumb back and forth on the back of it. “But I’m glad to be able to do so now, even if it is in a different way.”

You turned your head to smile tearily at him. “They would have loved you.”

Remus leaned his forehead against yours, nose pressing into your cheek. “And I them.” He seemed to turn his attention to the engraved names. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of our shared angel,” he addressed them, in his perfect meeting-the-parents voice. “They’re safe with me, as are your memories.”

You took a shuddering breath, feeling a momentary sense of closure. With a squeeze to his hand as a signal, you made to stand, and he followed suit, steadying you with an arm to your elbow.

His hands came up to wipe determinedly at your face, and you used the opportunity to bring him down to a short but searing kiss. “I love you,” you whispered against him. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for, my dove. It’s family.”

You brought Remus in close for a hug, your face turned towards the grave in his firm embrace. His hand was splayed over a spot on your back where it felt like he held you together and lifted the weight of the grief – and it reminded you of how much that felt like love. In the drafty graveyard, in the flickering candlelight, you were able to carry it all.

You turned in his arms to give your little family a final look. “Merry Christmas,” you whispered into the void, smiling both in spite of and because of.

“Merry Christmas,” Remus echoed, squeezing your hips.

By the time you made it back to the castle, you were emotionally and physically spent, but lucky for you, so was most of the others from what had been an intensive decorating session. When you walked in to find them all splayed across the sofa seating area, their eyes landed upon your tear-streaked, flushed faces and your loaded smiles, and they did what they do best.

Your friends opened their arms for you.

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deathlygristly · 20 hours ago

Text

For some reason I decided to read a Reddit thread on When The Phone Rings. Yes, I know, that's on me. But I've seen the sentiment on here too.

I guess it's what the kids call "antis"? Like this is a fictional show, none of it is real, and I seriously doubt any of the people watching will ever get switched for their older step-sister in an arranged marriage to the presidential spokesperson, who is the son of another chaebol family that's into politics. But then it turns out that the original son of the political family was a serial killer and the grandfather tried to drown him when he was a kid and then replaced him with the orphan who grew up to be the spokesperson. But the serial killer son survived the drowning attempt, and now the grown up serial killer son and also possibly the twin of one of the serial killer's victims is coming after the adopted son.

Like y'all are not going to be in this situation IRL, okay? You are not going to be in an arranged marriage with a man who is severely traumatized by seeing the drowning attempt, being taken from the man who had taken him in and raised him, and forced to live with people who did not like him and who controlled and abused him and who only wanted to use him to appear "normal" and "likable" so they could win elections and get political power.

And if you ever are in that situation for some reason, it's extremely unlikely that after three years of not communicating at all and pretty much being strangers you'll be targeted by a kidnapper, steal the kidnapper's phone, use the phone to finally communicate a bit, and end up with your husband revealing that he's obsessively loved you all along.

This is fiction. Maybe the female lead falling down a cliff and being fine and the male lead being in two explosions and being fine would clue you in on that? I don't know. Like someone said in the thread, these people must be why dramas all have a disclaimer now at the beginning saying that the drama is fiction and the events aren't real or based on anything real. Not that it helps.

It's just....it's weird and kind of conservative Christian culty how they're all "oh noes but young girls will think that it's okay if their husband doesn't talk to them for three years and is a bit mean!" If you're really worried about that then maybe you should be teaching your daughters or younger sisters or young female friends or students or whatever about boundaries and abuse and emotional awareness instead of not communicating with them at all, like how you say it's so bad that the characters are doing in the beginning of the show?

Also, okay, I've been married for 22 years and we started dating 25 years ago. I can assure you that the spousal person is awesome and our relationship is fine and healthy and the people at our favorite restaurant exclaim over us every time we come in and when I was in the hospital after gallbladder surgery the doctors called us "lovebirds." It's very easy to separate reality from fiction and to enjoy watching characters and stories that aren't your personal perfect ideal template of whatever and still have a healthy and enjoyable life.

If it's not easy for you, I think that's more a personal matter that you need to investigate and work on in your own life instead of judging and hating strangers online about it? Maybe you could look into resources for recovery from high control groups?

#long post #when the phone rings

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pleasantphantomhologram · 11 hours ago

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Pairing: Jason Todd x Y/N

Warning: NONE, PURELY FLUFF <3

Summary: Adulting as a girl in this shitty world means that every single bare minimum thing that your soon to be boyfriend/crush did is such a treasure for you. You easily impress by this type of man because all men in your life including your dad are very shitty. But, with Jason Todd, your new boyfriend, everything has changed and HE teaches you more than that.

A/n: hey bare minimum gurl, how is your day lately? Yes, i am still on my holiday, and I want to write this things that happened around me. Yes, many of my girlfriends are having a boyfriend, but they are easily impressed by all this bare minimum act that their boyfriends did. All i could say is… please don’t ever settle for bare minimum, gurl. You deserved so much more 🥰

Being a girl is hard. That’s the only fact that you know since you are in school and now an adult working woman who has lived in Gotham city for almost 3 years. Yes, you are working so hard to be here, and now all of your hard work is paying off. You are a copywriter for some big agency here. It’s not that you are having this ‘Sex and The City’ dream, at some point you hate your job, but at least, the pay is not bad and you can afford this small studio apartment with your furry pet, a british shorthair cat named Zach.

It seems that your life is perfectly fine, but, of course it’s not because you are just a girl. You love reading romance novels, it’s like an escapism of your sometimes shitty boss. You have this certain type of favorite trope and dream boy, but, in real life you are very easy to impress by the bare minimum thing that every bumble match guy does to you.

You have many ex-(shitty)boyfriends, and there are also shitty crushes and it seems you never learnt from your previous relationship. But, when you meet this 28 year old man named Jason Todd from one of the parties that your friends held, everything seems different.

He is not just asking about how’s your day, or how he is always checking you out (and you are not even in a relationship yet!), but every once a week he send you a bouquet of your favorite flowers (He asked you this when you two were on your first date).

On your second date, Jason, who initiated everything, he researched the most favorite cafe to go on a date and made a list of what to do after that. He did bring you to your favorite book store and said he knew this information because he saw your Instagram story gushing over new books here.

“ To be honest, I know that you like this place because I saw your IG story a week ago.”

“You remember that?” Y/N asked with a disbelief tone. It surprised you that this man remembered the nonsense IG story that you made sometimes.

“..Shit, am I wrong? So, sorry I don't know if it made you uncomfortable.” he said.

“No.., no, it is fine. It is just… No one besides my friends is paying attention to my nonsense IG story.” You said.

“It is not nonsense, I think you are just being you and that’s cute.” You blushed at his words. Damn you Todd, she cursed in her heart.

At the end of the date, Jason Todd took you to the front of your apartment and said that he is so happy to spend time with you and surprise-surprise he said…

“Hei, Y/N i.. uhh, i like the way our conversation goes from the first time we’ve chatted, and… uhh, can we take this to another level. i … I like you. a lot, actually. and this is my first time that i felt this. And.. I don't know what’s the best time to ask you to be my girlfriend? shit, is it too soon?”

You can’t help but giggle a bit, oh my why he is so cute.

“Jay…, I like you too.” You confessed to him.

“Really? But, I think I just did the bare minimum things the guy did. You deserve more than this. Okay, I will show you how a man should treat his partner more than bare minimum.”

From the moment he told you that, you two were in a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship. Every weekend he visits your apartment and bring your favorite snack and food, and snacks for Mr. Zach! The first time he visited your apartment, he even steals Mr. Zach attention with his charming smile. For your information, Mr. Zach is not like you, he is hard to impress by humans, but with Jason, everything seems easy for him.

“Hello, who is this gentleman? Wow, he is so majestic.” Said Jason.

“His name is Zach.. he is..” You are stunned a bit when Mr Zach is already on Jason’s lap purring over him.

“Oh my God. he never does that to any stranger.”

“Well, I think Mr Zach approved of me as your boyfriend? Right, Mr. Zach?” Zach kept purring on his lap.

If your cat approved of this man, how can you not melt on his hand then? You thought, you will fallin so hard to this man, and you don’t even know if you will recover if you two break up.

True to his word, he always shows youi how much he care about this relationship. He posted about you on his instagram and never try to hide his relationship with you. he is fuckin smitten with you. When he is at your apartment he always listens to your rambling like…

“Guess what..” you said

“What is it babe?”

“You remember Samantha, the project manager that I told you about..”

“The girl you said is so useless and not very helping.”

“Yes…. Today someone found out she is the mistress of our Art Director.” Jason gasped with an excited tone.

“No waaaaayyyy..”

“Yes waaaaaay.. I can't believe that the tea is boiling.” you chuckled. Jason smiles at you.

It feels so natural the way this dynamic with Jason, he always listens to what you say, he genuinely cares about you, and you just realize that this is how it feels to be loved by someone.

----

He likes to spoil you rotten, you are totally his queen and he doesn’t stop to show how much he loves you. Every little things he did always made you melt, like for example that time when the weather is getting cold, he always remind you to wear your jacket and when he pick you up from your office, he always make sure that you wear your jacket neatly so that you don’t get cool when he takes you on his motorbike.

“Wait, let me fix your jacket first.” he said.

“It is already good.”

“It doesn’t hurt to check again.” he smiled at you. Ugh, you love him so much.

When you two are officially one year together, He asked you if you want to move in with him to this apartment that he newly bought. It’s an apartment with three bedrooms and one of the room he designed to be your mini library and cozy place to read with a big sofa on the corner.

HONESTLY, YOU WANTED TO SCREAM AT THIS POINT, IS IT A DREAM?

“You are lying right?” You asked with a disbelief tone.

“No baby, it is the truth. I am so sorry if this is too sudden. I.. I just want to be with you and wake up next to you every single day of my life. But, if you are still not ready yet, it’s okay baby, you can just visit it whenever you like.” He said while caressing your face. Now, you are totally crying.

“Oh my God, Jaybird you are totally peace of shit,” and then you kiss him and hug him.

“Okay.. I will move in with you.” when he heard the yes, he is smililng widely and kiss her again.

“Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for bring so much happiness to my life.”

“Jaybird, I love you too.”

#jason todd x reader #DCU #dc comics #dc universe #jason todd #Jason Todd x Your Name #JasonTodd #fanfiction #DC Fannfiction

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aishangotome · 2 days ago

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Azel Radwan: Chapter 0

Thank you @caffedrine for providing the video for this chapter!

♡———♡

True love–for me, it’s the worst curse imaginable.

Azel: High Priest… Please… Stop it…

The whip gouges into human flesh, and the screams of my beloved brothers echo.

Blood drips from their torn-off nails, staining the cold floor crimson, forever burned into my eyes, once called mystical.

In this hideous scene, like a compilation of all the nightmares in the world, the powerless God could only cry out until his voice gave out.

Azel: Please, I'll do anything you say.

Azel: It's because I was a bad boy, because I didn't behave.

Azel: I won't ever run away again, so please stop.

Azel: Please, please, please, please…

Clinging to the High Priest’s clothes shamelessly, repeating words like a broken doll.

Being a God worshipped by people sounds nice, but the reality is different.

Head Priest: Living God… I apologize. It’s not that I want to torment you.

The High Priest gently strokes the God’s head with compassion and smiles soothingly.

In this nightmarish landscape, he alone is kind and gentle.

Head Priest: This is also love.

Azel: …Love?

Head Priest: The Living God is a special being. It would be too late if something were to happen.

Head Priest: To ensure your noble self makes no mistakes, I must punish you severely like this.

Head Priest: All of this is because I care for you. Please understand.

The whip cracks again.

My brothers, suspended from the ceiling, gradually lose their life force and become like dolls.

If this is what is called "love" – I am disgusted by its hideousness.

Azel: … I under…stand…

Azel: I understand… so… please stop…

Matias: Do you guys know the trending romance novel in Acroite lately?

The three kingdom's princes gather regularly, changing locations, and occasionally engage in small talk.

The content of their conversations varies from day to day, but on this particular day, the most unwelcome topic was brought up.

Kagari: I don't.

Azel: Not interested.

Matias: Then let me lend you my book.

Azel: Only Kagari can have it.

Kagari: No way. When it comes to this kind of story, Matias is uncontrollable.

Azel: Unfortunately, I'm allergic to romance.

Matias: Oh, is that so?

Azel: Yes, so—.......

Matias: Then let me read it aloud.

(…Hell just got even more hellish, give me a break)

Matias doesn't seem to want to back down and places the book in question on the table.

It was a very ordinary-looking book with no extravagance.

Matias: This book is so detailed in depicting the process of love's development that it's called the beginner's bible for romance.

Matias: I've read through it, and it's truly a treasure trove of information.

Matias: For example, there's a scene about a first date on page 32, and according to this bible—.....

While tuning out the rambling that has begun, I casually pull the book closer and flip through it.

(Ugh… what is this)

Just as Matias praised it, the content was a graphic depiction of the process of love.

There were many unnecessary parts for a story, and most of it was filled with idle chatter between the lovers.

Kagari: Was the allergy a lie?

Azel: It's not a lie. Look at these goosebumps.

Kagari: They certainly are real.

Azel: Matias might be yearning for love, but I'm the complete opposite.

Azel: Just hearing about love and romance makes me feel sick.

*remembering the past*

I recall the "love" preached to me that day with a merciful smile.

Just seeing the word makes me nauseous, and the aversion makes me dizzy to the point that I can't accept "love."

(Well, besides that crazy old geezer, there were plenty of people who preached about love with their crappy reasoning.)

(I wonder how Matias can believe in love so innocently…)

Matias: You're strange. There's no one who hates being loved, is there?

Azel: I'm a God, so maybe I'm different from humans.

Azel: … At the very least, I don't want to be loved by anyone, nor do I want to love anyone.

Azel: I know firsthand that love is a terrible thing.

I close the book and thrust it back at Matias.

There's no doubt that this is the kind of book I never want to open again.

Matias: There's no need to return it. This book is a present for you.

Azel: I don't want it, I refuse.

Matias: Don't say that. You might detest love and romance now, but you might change your mind.

Matias: Perhaps you'll meet your ideal princess in a scorching desert, on the verge of collapse, and after nursing her back to health, you'll become intimate—

Azel: Matias, please come back to reality.

Matias: Ahem. Anyway, it doesn't hurt to have a beginner's bible.

Matias: It covers everything from how to ask someone out on a date to how to handle relationships at night. You should study it diligently.

I can't help but glare at the book that Matias pushed back to me.

(Is it too much trouble to refuse?)

(Well, whatever. It's fine as long as I never open it.)

(Or… maybe I could sell it to Akatsuki.)

(I've had enough of being loved.)

(...Hm?)

Suddenly, I awaken to consciousness.

A landscape I've never seen before spreads out before me.

(Is this a rose garden? It's rather desolate for one, though.)

I've experienced the sensation of entering "someone else's dream" several times before.

I don't remember all of them, but I'm sure I've never met the owner of a dream with a rose garden.

(At least it's not the kind of dream someone from the desert would have.)

An oak table is placed where several paths intersect.

On top of it, there's a single book.

As I casually pick it up and follow the letters with my eyes, the story of the dream's owner vaguely flows into my mind.

Although it's an incomplete and fragmented story, the dream owner's "wish" is conveyed to me.

Azel: I see, I see…

Azel: How truly comical.

(A strong yearning for love… Are they the same kind of person as Matias?)

Someone approaches.

Glancing to the side, I see an unfamiliar woman standing there.

???: What is…?

Azel: I have some unfortunate news for you, who yearns for love and desires to know it.

Azel: Love isn't all that great.

Azel: Sometimes, it's better to live your life and die as the innocent, unknowing you that you are now.

(I don't intend to force my views on others, but…)

The woman looks genuinely kind; the type who would be the first to be taken advantage of by a swindler.

Precisely because I had that impression, the God, unusually, offered mercy.

Azel: I've seen the "love" of many people. Not in stories, but the raw, real love that exists in reality…

Azel: Many of them are people who believe they can do anything using "love" as an excuse.

Azel: It's a miserable thing, a human driven mad by love.

Azel: No matter how rational a person is, once they're driven mad by love, they can no longer live without it.

Azel: Like a curse.

(This woman who doesn't know love might become a different person if she does.)

(…I pray that won't happen.)

May the ugly curse of love not turn her into a beast—

The God, who can only pray, was as powerless as that day.

Chapter 1

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

#ikepri translations #ikemen prince translations #azel #azel radwan #azel radwan main route #ikemen prince azel radwan #azel radwan episode 0

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slimybeth69 · 2 days ago

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Touch: Part 5

Rating: explicit (smut, language)

Summary: So... it's after you and Din talk...

tags: Angst, slight dub-con (I never know bc I would always fuck Din?), being mad as fuck at Din, how could he?, Din/Mando being a dumb stupid idiot, reader also being a dumb stupid idiot. Idiots in LOVE, mutual pining, then normal smut things (without spoilers to the chapter, sorry) SPOILERS TO The Book of Boba Fett and The Mandalorian.

a/n: I've said it before and I'll say it again. If you read this on ao3, no you fucking didn't. It's still unbeta'd, but proofread!! I did that this time!! I also am re-working the story slightly because I CAN.

a/n pt2: I don't know shit about Star Wars/ The Mandalorian. I did however spend an un-Makerly amount of time learning for all of us. If you're not well versed in the lore or the history of Star Wars/ The Mandalorian-- that's okay! This is Star Wars/ Mando for Beginners. (Also stating this as a warning for anyone well versed in the universe and the lore-- shhhhhhhhhhhhhh. DON'T COME FOR ME)

<- Previous Chapter Series Masterlist

The Jedi Code was taught to you. Engraved in your mind.

Harmony, serenity, peace and knowledge. The force. The lightside.

All the bad things; chaos, emotion, passion, ignorance, death.

The darkside. You learned to not fear the darkside, but instead to embrace the force.

Even though you didn’t have the maker forsaken force inside of you! Not even a litte bit! None of 'the force' had found its way into you!

Luke Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano trained you as if you did!

Why!?

They spent so much time building you from the ground up! They made sure you had muscles and could run for long distances. The pair trained you how to fight with your hands!

Your hands know how to use a lightsaber! That's not an easy feat, and it takes a long time to learn that skill.

Oh, how long? A really long time!

Two years!

Two long years without any sign of that man in the tin can outfit! He's never called, he's never come to visit!

Two. Fucking. Years.

Sometimes you hated Din for leaving you here but you very quickly remember that you asked for this.

Wanted this more than anything.

Foolish!

You wanted so badly to make sure the child was cared for; the child was older than you are!

Much, much older! Not even a baby at all, but a toddler where he comes from. A very special toddler. A force sensitive toddler.

Coming here was a mistake! The only thing you do here is clean up the messes Grogu- that's the child's Maker forsaken name. He has a name!

Grogu makes messes, so you clean them, and get hit with sticks as some sick and twisted form of 'training'! It feels like a joke when they told you to 'block your face and important organs' and then started to pummel you with the hardest, most fast moving sticks you've ever seen!

Not having any amount of the force inside of you really makes training with Jedi's incredibly difficult! Grogu seemed to be having a blast training with Skywalker.

They trained differently, so unfortunately the two of you didn't see each other much, and when you did, your time with him was cut short.

The two of you grew up here a little, together while separated.

Luke and Ahsoka claimed that you babied him and it would impeed his training, so they kept you apart as much as they seemed humane. You became so very depressed without the child and Din.

All alone even though you were surrounded by so many people.

The nights that you got to spend with Grogu were usually spent laying under the stars outside the Jedi temple, speaking fondly of Din.

Mostly for the child's sake, because you only wonder if he had completely forgotten about you.

The answer to that question came when Luke came to Grogu with a gift.

“A gift?” You say with a curled lip.

Have you not just spent all of your time here; learning the way of the Jedi? That was an attachment and you– in your two years becoming a mock Jedi– were weary. The darkside. The emotion. The attachments.

This was scary.

Luke held the gift in his hands while he spoke. You're subtlety looking for your gift but... you don't see one. Only one parcel.

Oh.

“This gift would be the end of both of your Jedi training, should he keep it. Attachments may not be had, by anyone.” Luke looks between the both of you as you stand before him.

Why is he looking at you!? You might stay at this temple and learn all the ways of the Jedi and become the most powerful non-force sensitive Jedi the galaxy has ever seen!

“You both have come so far, you have so much potential. Both of you.” Luke’s eyes fall on you. “I’ve been surprised before, but this was a pleasant one. Watching you both learn so much. I hope he both makes the choice that’s best for you.” Luke looks to Grogu and hands him the package wrapped in brown paper.

“Why couldn’t I stay if he wanted to leave?” You ask Luke.

“You come with the child. You leave with the child.” Luke explains simply.

Maker-- alright. You can’t argue with that. You don't have much to offer besides cleaning up the kid's messes. They're probably tired of watching you perfect the lightsaber.

You're actually pretty good.

Grogu glances up at you just as you look down at him. You kneel on one knee so you can be closer to him, and watch as his six little clawed fingers struggle with the twine wrapped around it, but he uses the Force.

“Cheater.” You whisper to him.

The gift is beskar. A piece of... Mandlaorian armor for Grogu.

“ Mando said he can’t put it on until he sees you–”

“M-Mando’s here?” You interrupt accidentally. Your heart begins to pound in your chest at the thought that you might actually be able to see him right now.

Luke gives you a knowing look, as if you should know better, and shakes his head from side to side.

“Ahsoka sent him away. It would interfere with your training. If you wish to stay here and train, continue to learn the Jedi way. You both have come far, but it’s nowhere near close to done. Accepting this would end that training.”

It’s a warning.

The energy in the room is so intense. You can feel electricity in the air almost. Grogu is still standing beside you, looking down at his own piece of beskar.

What’s he going to do?

Luke reaches into his robe.

Everyone here has all these hidden pockets for things in their clothes. You have a couple hidden pockets now too . For things you may need to hide and pull out in moments just like this one day. You hope. It’s so cool when they do that.

Luke hands Grogu a lightsaber. Grogu’s own lightsaber.

“You have a choice, young padawan.” His gravelly voice rakes across your brain.

It's so quiet for so long.

Grogu touches the lightsaber softly. Admiring it. He did the same thing with the armor.

So long you waited. Understandably, this was a hard choice.

Grogo picks the armor.

Grogu and yourself are on a ship to a hangar where Din is waiting for a response. Your knees are complete mudslides right now. They are not supporting you and they have two years of Jedi training behind them. They’re strong.

The nerves got to them, though--ate away all the tendons you ever had and dissolved the muscle down to nothing.

Din had been on your mind every single day for two years, and he didn't even ask if YOU wanted to come back. Only Grogu! You feel like a fool sitting next to the tiny green toddler.

Where are you supposed to go when Din tells you that he doesn't need your services anymore!?

The ramp of the ship drops down and there is a cloud of dust. And then there he is. Standing at the base of the ramp, like he had been waiting for you two. Or apparently just Grogu. Since he’s the one who got the gift.

It’s fine. You’re fine. No attachments. Perfect. You’re basically a Jedi.

Grogu, who is so much faster, so, so much faster than you ever remember him being, flings himself at Din, and attaches himself around his neck.

You watch in amusement, wishing you could do the same thing but you’re partially a Jedi now, so you keep your composure and walk down the ramp slowly. Your mouth is so dry, you don't even attempt to swallow because you know it'll just end in you choking.

Din hugs the child tightly. Their embrace is so sweet. So kind. It makes you smile so hard your cheeks hurt.

It makes your heart pang as well.

They hug for a long time before Grogu looks back at you, pulling away from Din’s neck. Grogu extends a curved hand to you. You suddenly feel a gentle pressure around your waist, and are being dragged forward, against your will, feet stumbling beneath you.

You point your finger at Grogu. “Hey!” You shout. The pressure around your waist stops and you’re set back down on your feet carefully. “I told you to knock that off!"

This is Grogu’s new, fun game. Picking you up and putting you where he wants you. He hasn’t stopped doing it since he learned how.

Dropped you a couple times in the beginning.

Din chuckles from under the helmet. “I see your relationship has changed quite a bit.” His flat rasp is the same as you remember it. "He's the one carrying you around now,"

“It’s basically still the same. I have to yell at him for doing things he shouldn’t.” You scowl at Grogu, who hides himself behind Din's helmet.

“It’s nice to see you," Din's modulated voice is even and quiet. As if he doesn't want to say it at all.

That’s it. No hug. Nothing. Not even a handshake.

You could hit him. For several seconds you think about doing it.

Now your fist– with two years of Jedi training– and it might actually hurt him. It might hurt him a lot, and you’d feel good about it. So good.

"It's nice to see you, too."

The anger is pumping in your veins as he leads you through the hanger behind him. You look at all the ships, and look for the Crest but you don’t see it anywhere. Eventually Din stops in front of a ship much larger than the Crest. Bigger guns on it too.

Din just stands there and looks at you with his stupid helmet shining in the bright light of the hangar. You don’t know what to do. He dropped you off on Ossus where the Jedi temple was, and didn't give you a hug. Not a pat on the shoulders. Literally nothing.

"Keep the kid out of trouble. You'll hear from me soon."

That's all Din had said before he and Grogu went to say their goodbyes!

"It's a new ship." Din points to the giant hunk of metal he’s standing in front of. His beskar looks exactly the same. Maybe a new scrape or two. A ding here or there but you’re not even looking. Not even paying attention to him. Trying not to.

“Okay...” You resort to using your favorite word.

Why, Maker? Why can’t the man in the helmet speak? Is his helmet on mute? Always so fucking quiet. Until you don’t want him to be, then he won’t shut up.

Din leads you inside. Shows you the sleeping quarters. There are two beds. One for each of you.

There is a separate room for the child.

The dining room is nice and everything else is so nice. So much nicer than the Razor Crest. Even the cockpit you have no idea how to use.

You look all around the hull like it's very interesting. This is so awkward. Not what you expected when you were on your way here. It's not like you expected a welcome back party. Maybe a hug. Something.

"What happened to the Crest?" You ask, trying to avoid looking at him.

"It was destroyed."

The sleeping quarters are different from the Razor Crest. The beds are close together, but separated and welded to the floor so there is no way to move them closer together.

The mats that are nestled into the metal frames are thicker and much more plush than the one you had slept on for so long before you were banished away to the Jedi temple.

It’s fine. You’re fine. No emotion. No attachments. It’s all fine.

The small bag that holds your very few belongings stays packed in case he doesn't plan on you staying very long. He could very well be headed right back to Cantonica to drop you back off at the Canto Bight Casino!

The three of you eat dinner in silence.

Din says not one word to you and you don't try and strike up the conversations like you used to. Things feel so different now, like the two of you are complete strangers all over again.

Grogu has changed in ways that are hard to describe. He's still a baby in your eyes even though he's older than you and Din.

The two of you play together on the floor while Din or maybe you should call him Mando again, since you barely know this man after two whole years, does something in the cockpit.

Grogu warbles and you watch all the new, fun things he can do with the Force that aren’t moving you unwillingly. It's the first real fun the two of you are able to have since being dropped off at the temple. You missed being able to play with him. You still snuggle him at the protests of Luke and Ahsoka-- how could you not when he climbs into your lap and cuddles into your arms.

Like he knew you couldn’t resist.

Grogu can put himself to sleep now which is incredible, and that means you have time to do whatever you want.

So you’re in your bed with your nice new sheets. They’re soft. Like the ones on the Crest.

It’s dark here, too.

Maker, what in the stars?

The sun shields in this ship are no joke! There's no light at all. If you have to go to the bathroom, it’s just blind wishing that you don’t break you toes, or bump into a wall and potentially crack your skull.

It feels like you were completely forgotten about in those two years and now, in the dark silence of your shared sleeping quarters you just want to cry...

An emotion!? After two years of strict Jedi code training---

There is a ten thousand degree warmth on your upper arm in the void, and it scares you half out of the bed. Your tops of your feet and knees are on the cool metal of the ships floor, and you're leaning against the side of the bed-frame like you are praying to Maker.

“I was going to see if you were sleeping," Din's rasping sounds-- happy to talk to you?

You're unsure. Nothing else about the way he's spoken to you, or treated you at all makes you think he wants to talk to you.

"That's not how you find out if someone's asleep!" You bark at him angrily.

"You're awake though.” A flat, unimpressed response to your outburst.

Maker, if you had your own helmet with night vision, you’d use all your new fun Jedi fighting tricks on him. You sure would, because who is he!? Who does he think he is!?

After two years he can come back and just throttle you awake in the dark like before? Nope. Not this time.

“You’re lucky I can’t see you right now.” You say over the pounding heart in your chest. “So lucky-- What do you care if I'm awake in the night?! Let me sleep!” You’re so cold with him, mirroring him perfectly minus the emotion. “I’m tired.” You lie to him.

In the usual Din fashion, he remains quiet. He still had his hand on your arm, and it's not like you really made an attempt to pull it away because it’s hot like you remember.. Burning you, he's so warm.

Din is also so fucking quiet! Maker! Is he okay?

“Tired?” Din’s voice rasps in the dark. "Then why aren't you sleeping?"

You realize the metal man has no grip on you whatsoever. He was just touching you very, very gently, and you easily could have pulled away at any moment.

So you you tug your arm away and you climb back into bed and face the opposite direction from him. "I was trying to sleep when you come over here-- shaking me in the darkness!"

“You…” Din trails off in the dark. “Still don't know the meaning of shake?” He questions you like a dumb idiot.

"Get away from me!" You almost shout it. "Just leave me alone!" You humph, and pull the sheets over your shoulder.

"Are you... mad at me?"

“Are you kidding me!?” You whisper at him. “I don’t know how you could leave me out there for two years, and I get nothing!?” You sit up in your bed now and talk blindly in the dark. “Nothing. No visit. No calls. Nothing.” You cross your arms over your chest. "No gift!"

Din stays silent- which was predicted- so you carry on.

“But you get Grogu a gift, which was very sweet. Very cute armor, he is going to look very cute it in.” You think of the child dressed in the armor and it's kind of amusing and slightly distracting.

“Are you done?” Din’s stupid modulated voice rings out in the dark after a minute of you imagining an armored Grogu.

It's so dark and you still don't really know where he is, so with your accusing index finger pointing in the direction he could be in, you almost shout, “No! I’m not done!”

You are in fact, not done.

“They treated me like I had the Force in me. Do you know how hard that is when you don’t have the fucking force in you!?” You exclaim in exasperation, still pointing at him.

You start to speak again into the blinding darkness when a warm hand very gingerly moves your accusatory pointing finger eight inches to your right.

“I figured I should at least be getting pointed at, if you’re going scold me,” Din rasps.

You die inside and wonder how dumb you look in the dark. “Why did you even bring me back? Hm? Why not just send me right back to the casino? Or is that where we’re going next? Gonna just drop me off? You even gonna land first or just let me duck and roll?” You huff, officially done with your rant.

“Are you don-” Din starts, but you cut him off.

“Yes!" You snap at him, and then you huff one more time for good measure. You're so angry with him.

So much for all your Jedi no emotion training.

“I have a gift for you.” Din says flatly through the modulator.

Oh.

“Well it’s so dark in here, so how would I know that?” You snip at him, not sure you’re fully ready to forgive him. You roll your eyes now.

“Would you still like it? Or are you too upset with me?” Din’s modulated rasp asks you, sounding annoyed.

Why does he have a right to be annoyed? He could have given you that gift the minute you step foot of that return ship that brought you back to him.

Why wait until the darkness!? Why!?

“Yes, I would.” You hold your cupped hand out into the dark and feel something cold and hard fall into it. “It would be nice if I could –”

The brightest beam of light you’ve ever encountered shines directly into your eyes. It’s blinding.

You jump again, out of bed because what the fuck is that!?

Is this an attack!?

What even is that light? Where is it coming from?

Thankfully, you wrapped your hand around the thing Din dropped into your hand so you didn't fling it into the abyss to never be seen again before you ever even got to look at it!

“Why are you on the floor?” Din asks, as you hold your free hand to your chest. You blink up at him, having to shield your eyes.

“Are you the light right now!?” You question him squinting your eyes in its brightness. "Are you the one blinding me!?"

“Yes." Din dims the light tremendously somehow from within his helmet and now, it’s easier on the eyes. Like a candle flame. "Was it to bright?"

“It was too bright! I don’t think I’ll ever see again.” You snip softly, resting on the floor and putting your elbows on the bed.

You inspect the small pink crystal in your hand. It takes you a couple seconds to realize what it is.

“Is this a kyber crystal?” You look up at Din who is knelt down on the other side of your bed.

He nods in the now pale light that's much easier on the eyes. “I got it on my travels. I thought that if you knew how to use a lightsaber, I’d get one for you. Put this crystal in it.”

Maker. What is happening?

“You thought of me?” You didn’t mean to say it. Part of you is still mad.

“Everyday .” Din’s awe and amazement voice is back. “Di- Did you not think about me?” Just as quickly as that sweet familiar tone had shown up, it's gone just as fast. Din can' believe that you didn't think of him during your time apart.

“I did.” You say quietly. “I thought you had forgotten me. Without the visits or calls or gift.” You do feel silly now because this really is a sweet gift.

The sweetest gift. More sweet than the notebook and the credits and anything else he's ever given you. The small pink crystal in your hand means so much to you. The fact that he got it for you, was thinking about you while you were gone. The fact that the meaning behind the gift is so big. You own lightsaber if you wanted one. Din would get one for you. Said it himself. Your heart is racing in your chest.

“Never . I’ve been waiting to see you. Been thinking of you. Looking at your doodles every night.” He turns the light off and takes the crystal from your still outstretched hand.

“Hey! That’s mine.” You reach for it but he leaves you kneeling next to your bed like you are praying to Maker in the dark again.

“I’m going to give it back.” Din raps . “Do you want to get back in bed or are you content on the floor?”

You’re blinking into the dark. Wondering how dumb you look now on the floor blinking into the void. You scramble up without assistance and crawl into bed, facing the same direction as before. Away from Din.

Secretly, you’re hoping he’s sans beskar and crawls into bed beside you and lets you hold him like he did the nights before you left. With your arm around his waist, stealing his radiating heat from him while he sleeps. You’d mill kisses softly across his shoulders and you’d listen to him sigh and make sleep sounds in the darkness.

But that doesn’t happen. It’s so quiet. It’s so still for so long. You wonder if he’s crawled in his own bed and is fast asleep. What could this all mean? The gift? The cold welcome back after two years? Everything you did before you left? What did it mean and did you accidentally fall for a potential half man- half droid that’s never going to show you his face?

The dark is still, so quiet and unmoving. You feel like you’re alone in the room.

“C-can I touch? Or are you still too upset with me?” Din asks quietly, the rasp of his modulator is gone. His sweet deep voice is right in your ear. It doesn’t startle you because you’ve been waiting to hear him speak for so long.

“No.” You snap. “You couldn’t come touch me for two years! I would have let you then, any time you came to visit, I would have but you-”

His lips on yours stop you. You almost try and push him off, but Maker. I

t feels so good. His warm, soft lips on yours after all this time. You both open your mouths slightly, and as tentatively as Din touched you for the first time two years ago, his tongue slips past your lips and into your mouth just as slowly.

It’s gone as soon as it appeared.

“I tried.” He whispers against your open mouth. “I got turned away every time. So many times I tried to see you.” He’s speaking fast, like he’s trying to explain himself to you before you beat him off of you with something hard you’ve found in the dark. “ So many times, little one."

The words melt over your tongue as he speaks them, almost as if they were your words.

Ahsoka and Luke never told you he came to visit. Not one time.

“I tried. I never forgot about you. Too perfect. Too beautiful to forget..." ” His bare hands cup your face as you speak. “Never forget you. Everyday I look at your doodles. I look at you, and miss you."

You're breathing in the words he's speaking into your parted lip. He kisses you again softly. You feel the bed shift next to you and he’s crawling beside you.

“Do you dislike me again?”

Maker, Din somehow got warmer. He’s running a fever all the time and his body feels like the embers in the fire pit at the end of the night.

“Again?” You whisper as he pulls your face down to the pillows with his.

“You didn’t care for me much before the doodles.” Din kisses your lips again, gently as his hand slips from your cheek. “I didn’t think you’d let me.” You can feel his warm breath on your chin as he speaks.

“Let you what?”

“Touch. Watch. The first time.” His real unmodulated voice whispers to you. “I've missed touching. Watching."

A warmth hovers over your middle, you reach for it. Tt’s Din’s hand, hovering above your stomach, under the blankets, but over your clothes.

“Touch me.” It almost doesn’t come out of your mouth because it’s so dry. But you croak it out and swallow hard as the word leaves your lips because you hope he does. You hope this isn't like the first night all over again where he makes you do it alone.

Din obliges and lets his hand drop, you feel the heat spreading out along your nightgown starting from where his hand rests on your lower stomach. It makes you inhale sharply. It’s such a familiar touch and you missed it so much.

Din sighs and drags his hands gently and slowly up your stomach, the fabric bunching at his wrist as he does it.

He's lifting your nightgown.

“Din,” You whisper as his palm cups one of your fleshy tits over the nightgown.

His rough, calloused hands were so gently, touching you so sweetly until your hand rests on his, you make him squeeze you. You make him because you need to know this is real and these soft gentle touches feel like a dream.

Din grips you now. He can feel your desperation in your hand on his. Squeezing and pulling and tugging at your flesh.

“Fuck.” He moans softly into your shoulder where his head was resting. The fiery goodness from his forehead felt like it was melting you. “Perfect. Beautiful.” He says the word like he doesn’t want to. Like he’s been forcing them back but they’re breaking free from his vocal chords.

You can almost feel his heartbeat. Or maybe it’s yours.

You don’t know.

It’s just obvious that this is what you want and you need him. Badly. However he’s willing to give himself to you or however he wants to take you, you don’t care. You’ve been waiting and thinking about this for two years. Your body reacts to his touch like you were built for him. Your pussy is leaking and throbbing already and he’s only touched you once.

There's a new warmth, a wetness to these sensations now. Din’s wrapped his mouth around your clothed nipple and is sucking. Biting gently over the nightgown you have on. It sends shivers down your spine.

Words come flowing out of your mouth before you can even stop them. “I've waited so long for this.” You whimper quietly.

Your hips are rolling against the bed below you because everything just feel so good, everything is just so overwhelmingly pleasurable. Din’s hands and mouth on you, the heat he's passing along through his touch.

“Touch. I wanna hear you moan.” He murmurs against your breast. He’s still biting and sucking it through the fabric like he’s too impatient to take off the nightgown. He just can’t wait any longer.

“I need you to touch me.” You whine quietly. “Please.” You’re begging him. “Please, Din, I need to fee-” But he doesn’t make you beg long, his free hand slides between your legs and he sighs loudly against you.

“”Fuck. Fuck. You're s-so wet. So fucking perfect.” Din bites your nipple a little harder now, but then he pulls way. “Let me lick. P-Please. I just wanted to watch but now I need to taste you.” He’s moving down between your legs as he talks to you. Then he stops.

“Okay. Okay. Please. Do it, please.” You’re already spreading your legs but he’s getting off the bed again. “Nononononono.” You whine, reaching blindly for him in the dark. You’re on the verge of tears. “Please don’t leave me again.”

It’s so quiet. It’s like time stopped.

“Din?” You whisper. “Did you leave?”

“Where would I go?” He answers but he’s further away from you now. "It's my ship."

“Well you’re obviously not here– where you were!” You exclaim quietly. You hear him chuckle in the dark.

“Come to my bed. I want to do something. New.”

Oh Maker what could that mean? A new stun gun? Some weird thing he found in his travels?

Does he want to make you the lightsaber and put the focus crystal inside you? That’s where you draw the line.

“What does that mean?” You ask nervously, clutching the sheets to your chest as you stare into the void. “New?”

“Come here. You said I could lick, yes? Let me.” Din’s voice in the dark makes you drop the blankets your clutching and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. “Come, little one. Let me lick you. Let me taste you.” His voice guides you to him and you start to crawl into his bed but he stops you. “Leg.” He says into the dark.

“Leg?” You ask, confused. Din reaches for you in the dark and taps your upper thigh.

“Leg.” He says like he’s teaching you body parts. “Swing it up here over my head.”

“What!?” You exclaim. “You want me to do what?!”

“I want you to sit on my face.” Din’s smiling in the dark and you can hear it in his voice.

“And you’re going to taste me like that?” You’re exasperated. You’ve never even heard of this. What does that mean, sit on his face. “I’m going to smother you!”

“Then I’ll die a happy man. Get up here.” Now he’s impatient. Din’s been waiting for this just as long as you have.

You swing one leg over his head and straddle him, pressing both hands to the wall in front of you. The ship's metal is so cold on your clammy hands. You can feel him breathing against your inner thighs as you sit on your knees above him.

“ This is perfect.” Din whispers. You can only whimper quietly because you’re so nervous, you feel so exposed up here. ��You want me to lick…” He leans up and gives the very top of your slit a quick teasing lick. “Here? Yes?”

Your knees buckle because Din’s tongue is just as soft and just as warm as you remember and you do want him to lick there. You can’t find words for how badly you want him. All you can do is let out a breathy sound of consent.

“Beautiful.” Din wraps his hands under your thighs and pulls you down onto his mouth, his tongue is ready. Eager. Waiting for you to be on him, for him to be inside your folds. “Just as I remember.” He whispers into your pussy, tasting that flavor he memorized before you left and thought of it often. “I touched myself, thinking of you. To your doodles. To your flavor.” Din takes the flat of his tongue and licks you from your opening all the way to your clit, slowly, he presses up against you so you feel him.

He wants you to know he missed you.

“ Maker, yes. ” It’s moaned softly as Din presses the flat of his tongue against your slit and lets you ride his mouth. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. Why were you so scared? Being on top of him, this way, you were in control up here. “ Oh Din, yes.” You’re not holding back tonight.

You’ve been waiting to do this. Dreaming about it at night and waking up in the morning having to give yourself some sort of pleasure. You slide one hand down into his thick, coarse hair, just enjoying the feeling of it between your fingers again. You hear Din moan from between your legs and his tongue moves against you faster.

Your fingers tighten in Din’s hair as he holds you around the legs, you’re pinned down onto him. His tongue is lapping and exploring your folds. Licking at all the spots he remembers make you squirm. He memorized every inch of you before he left and he’s been thinking about you, keeping it fresh in his head for this moment so he can make you whimper and quiver like he used to.

Din is panting underneath you, he’s working for what you’re about to give him. His tongue was drifting between those big lazy circles that had you whimpering and begging him for more and tight fast spinning around your clit. That’s when his hands found your hips and started to move you on his face, his tongue flat, stroking your clit with each movement of your hips.

“Please don’t stop.” Pushing yourself off the wall you’ve been leaning against, you hover over him now, rocking your hips on your own. You found a rhythm with Din’s help. He holds your hips tighter now–not messing with the rocking of your hips–feeling you roll yourself along his mouth. As he does that he pulls you down harder on his tongue. Your free hand finds his hair and you grip it tightly now in both fists and grind down against his flat, strong muscle. “ Oh fuck yes . Din, I’m so close.” You’re whimpering for him.

Din moans loudly from underneath you, his hands now moving to your ass. He gropes and spreads your cheeks.

“M-moan again.” You stutter, your hips grinding harder and faster. The vibrations from Din’s moans will be enough.

Din obliges happily and moans loudly again, over and over as your head falls back, hips never stopping their rocking motion on his tongue.

“Oh, fuck–ing yes. Din, oh Maker!” You cry out. You don’t care if The Razor Crest is gone, you have those memories inside your head forever. You don’t have to hold back nearly as much here. You can let him know how fucking good he makes you feel. Your body is quivering as you grind against him. You can feel the prickles of his facial hair on your inner thighs and lips as you ride him.

Being on Din’s face like this was heaven. You can hear him noisily licking and sucking at the new wave of juices that are dripping from your entrance. As the warm ball of fiery goodness spreads through you, you start to shudder and tremble on top of him, his tongue never stops moving against your clit and then dipping inside of your hole to taste you as you leak out. Din laps at you until there’s nothing left. Sucking your lips into his mouth at the end to make sure he didn’t miss anything. He leaves you trembling above him for so long he has to tap your thigh again for you to swing It over his head.

"Sorry." You pant. "That was good. I'd do that again." You go to stand off his bed and you feel him wrap his arms around your waist.

"Don't go. Share the bed." He whispers up to you. "I waited for so long."

"I waited too!" You exclaim as all of your anger and fear of being forgotten about returns. "I waited for just as long as you did! You sure didn't act like you missed me or waited for me. Not until the lights went off at least." You're storming to your own bed now. You move quickly, not wanting him to hear or see the tears in your eyes.

You've been keeping this in for a long time. Letting it bottle up until you can't keep it in anymore. And the fact that he confessed all those nice things just to be able to touch you.

Din doesn't say anything in the dark, letting you try and find you way back in the void. It makes you sadder that he isn't trying to comfort you. The tears come, quietly, thank Maker, as you get into your own bed and wrap yourself in the covers. It isn't until you let out a little weeping sound that you hear him shuffle and then your bed shifts under his weight. Din's pressing himself into you gently, wrapping his arm around your waist.

"If you had reached for me, you could have felt my heart from under my beskar." He whispers in your ear. "I did miss you. I did wait for you." A small kiss along your jaw, "You didn't seem like you were happy to see me today." He sounds disappointed. "I thought you had forgotten about me. Maybe someone with a face and who didn't leave made you forget about me." Another small kiss in the same place. "I sat in the dark for so long, wondering if you were thinking of me. I had to come find out. I did't mean to scare you. Don't cry, little one. Please?" He's kissing your face gently.

"I don't think anyone could ever make me forget about you." You whisper into the void.

tag list: @thereaperisabitch @pedrospookie @furiousmushroom @creepycorbeaux

I'm still so uncomfortable tagging people in my stories, so like I said, please tell me to fuck off if you want me to stop. My feelings won't be hurt (yes they will), and it's completely fine (I'm a big girl and can handle it).

#pedro pascal characters #smut #long reads #din djarin #din x f!reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x f!reader #din smut #the mandalorian spoilers #the angst starts here folks #strap in #pedro pascal #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu fandom #pedro pascal character

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