#all of them i have been wanting to read for a while now and had heard good things about

[sinner-as-saint]

mastermind

Dark!Bucky Barnes x Ex-bully!Reader AU 

Summary: You were mean to him back in uni, always teasing him and making fun of him. Always chasing away the few friends he had and always ruining the chances he had of making new ones. He could never figure out why he was always the butt of your jokes, why out of all the other people you could unleash your cruelty on, you picked him. But those uni years were long gone. His desire to get back at you however, was not. So now, about a whole decade later, Bucky Barnes is out for revenge. You made his life hell for years after all. But now that he’s older and stronger than he was back then, he deserves to have a little fun with you, doesn’t he? 

Themes: author!reader, ex bully!reader, mentions of bullying in the past, mild angst, smut, stalker!bucky, dark!bucky, degrading kink, fluff

Bucky stepped into the hole in the wall bar with confidence. 

He knew what he was here for. Or rather, who. 

And he spotted you right away. He’d been preparing for this meeting for the last decade, and he had all his ducks in a row now. He grabbed a beer and walked right over to where you were sitting, in a booth by yourself. A half pint of something on the table, with papers scattered everywhere while you were busy noting something down rapidly in a notebook. 

You looked good, he admitted to himself. Dark burgundy dress with a leather jacket, as if you wanted to blend into the dark and moody aesthetic of the bar and disappear. But you were one of those people who just couldn’t exactly blend in and disappear. Even when you didn’t say a word, your presence was rather loud. Sure, you’d been one of the most horrible people he’d come across in uni years ago, but you were charismatic and he couldn’t deny it. 

You had this certain pull to you, attracting everyone and everything towards you. And here he was, gravitating towards you as well. But, he reminded himself, he had a plan this time. 

“Excuse me,” He spoke in his smoothest voice, “Is this seat taken?” 

He watched you intently as you looked up from your notebook and seemed a little surprised as you gave him a slight smile and pointed at the seat across from you. You didn’t recognise him. Of course you wouldn’t, he looked entirely different. 

Bucky was used to it. That surprise on women’s faces. He looked good and he knew it. Tight black t-shirt, purposely two sizes too small just so he could show off the big arms and the back muscles that the people loved. Tattoos all over his arms, and some on his neck. He had them all over his back as well, but it was currently hidden. Small, discrete lip ring on his lower lip. Yeah, he made the ladies go crazy. 

He could tell you were having trouble looking away as well. “Aren’t you too beautiful to be here all by yourself?” He gave you a smirk, one that he knew accentuated his lip ring. He watched your gaze drop down to it quickly before looking back up into his eyes. 

You smiled, then explained. “I don’t know anyone in this city, I’m here temporarily for work. I leave in a couple of days.” 

Bucky listened with fake interest, he knew all these things already. He knew everything about you. “Oh?” He faked curiosity, “What do you do for work?” 

“I’m an author. I’m currently on my book tour.” You answered in a shy voice. 

Weird. You used to be so confident and cocky all the time in uni. This was new. Bucky quickly recovered and said, “Wait, was that you I saw on the poster outside the bookstore down the street? There was quite a crowd there.” 

You nodded sheepishly, “Yeah, that’s me. I have another book signing there tomorrow.” 

He nodded, taking a sip of his beer. “You must be really good.” 

Again, you gave him that shy shrug that confused him. Since when were you humble, or shy? 

“I’m okay, I guess. People just like to read what I write.” A pause, as you stared into his eyes, then asked, “What do you do in the city? You know, other than flirting with random women.” 

Bucky chuckled, “Oh you’re not random. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve met.” He waited to see you squirm in your seat like he knew you would. He watched how you rolled your eyes at him and shook your head. Then he said, “I own a security company. I created this app that people use whenever they need help. All they have to do is press a button and my guys show up. Anywhere, anytime. Anything from needing medical help to needing help escaping someone, domestic violence, robbers, a hostage situation, harassment, or you know,” He looked right at you as he said, “Bullies.” 

You listened, nodded and said, “That’s noble. What pushed you to make that your life’s mission?” 

Bucky leaned back into his seat. “I know what it’s like to feel defenseless. I never want anyone to feel like that. So if I can at least help some people, it makes me feel better. I guess I became what younger me needed.” 

“Why?” You questioned. “Were you hurt in the past?” 

“Yeah,” He shrugged. “But that was a long time ago.” 

Bucky began talking about something else but then noticed you were watching him a little too intensely. For a brief moment he panicked, wondering if you’d recognised him. But surely not. He didn’t look anything like he did back then. 

So he had to ask, still in the same flirty tone he’d been using the whole time, “What’s that look for?” 

He watched as you blinked a couple times, lowered your face as if shy then shook your head and said, “Nothing. It’s…,” You chuckled, “It’s gonna sound insane but you just… look so much like one of my main characters from my last book.” You then grabbed your phone and clicked a couple times before showing him a fanart. “See? Even the lip ring, and the neck tats.” 

Bucky grabbed your phone, analysing the fanart with interest. “And this guy, you like him? Is he a good guy?” 

You sighed, “He’s complicated. But yes, I love him. He’s one of my favourite characters that I’ve ever written.” A coy smile, then you said, “I just never thought I’d meet someone exactly like him. I mean, it’s like you walked out of my book.” You laughed. 

Bucky laughed too. “Well, maybe I did.” 

“Maybe.” You whispered, still looking up at Bucky dreamily. Giving him that soft look women often gave him before they invited him into their beds. 

Perfect. 

Oh. He had you right where he wanted you. It’s like you walked out of my book. He scoffed internally. For the last few years he’d been studying all your books like they were religious texts and he was a zealous man. Over the years he noticed that all your MMCs had a few features in common – tattoos, muscles, piercings, so he became them. 

Sure, maybe this was him taking it too far. After all, uni ended about a decade ago. Sure, this was petty and maybe even a waste of time. But he needed to do this for the younger him who was always so passive and never in control of the narrative. Being bullied and never having friends or anyone on his side is what made him create his app and company. Sure, this was childish revenge but it was his to take. He didn’t care. 

Besides, the look on your face would be priceless once he reveals who he is. But not yet. He had so much to do before that. So many fantasies to fulfil. So much fun to have before he told you the whole truth. 

“It’s getting late,” You told him as you began gathering your papers and notebook, “I should head back to my hotel. I have that book signing thing rather early. But, um, if you want I could leave you my number and we can meet again tomorrow?” 

Bucky smiled at you, his tongue toying with his lip ring knowing full well it would catch your attention. “Yes, please.” 

He already had your number. Screw your number, he had all your home addresses – both the penthouse, as well as the small beach house that you owned, your email addresses, your passwords, where you liked to eat, where your friends lived, where they worked, what your parents did, where they worked, all of it. He’d been keeping a close eye on you for the past decade, of course he knew everything there was to know about you. 

So he took the number, and walked you out of the bar and promised to meet up with you the next day. 

—

“Have dinner with me,” Bucky said when he saw you the following evening. “I know a cute spot, it’s lowkey and quiet. You’re gonna like it.” 

You smiled at him and nodded, “Alright.” Then you took his elbow and let him take the lead. 

He walked slowly, using the short journey as an excuse to ask you things. General stuff, things people ask on first dates. Where you grew up, what is your family like, etc. But it was hard coming up with questions when he already knew everything. Plus, he had to be careful not to ask specific things, like how did you find Bari, Italy where you vacationed with your family last year? 

Luckily the place where you were headed wasn’t too far. 

“So tell me, what is it like going from city to city and meeting all your fans?” Bucky asked you once the two of you had placed your orders. 

You smiled, as if at a memory, and said, “It’s amazing. I can’t quite put it into words. I mean, I started writing as a way to cope with just, I don’t know, life I guess. And I never thought people would end up reading, let alone even like what I write. And it kinda just happened, and next thing I knew I was receiving messages and emails and letters from all over the world. I guess, you never get tired of someone telling you just how much they like the stories you made up in your head.” You sighed again, happily this time. “It’s cliché, I know, but it’s so pure and genuine. Like these characters don’t exist in real life, I made them up. But people found them interesting enough to read about them, and like them.” You giggled. 

Bucky felt like someone had slapped him the moment he heard that giggle. What the hell was happening to him? Did he, dare he say, find you endearing? What the fuck. 

You continued, unbeknownst to the internal turmoil Bucky was going through. “So yeah, the fans are literally the reason why I do what I do. They give me so much strength and they don’t even know it. Sometimes just reading or re-reading a sweet message someone left me months ago can turn a bad day into a really good one, or make a terrible day slightly more tolerable.” You paused, gazing into Bucky’s eyes. “Writing saved me, but my fans, my readers, they made my life so much more beautiful and worth living.” 

Well, he wasn’t expecting that. At all. He knew you didn’t have ghost writers or anything. He knew you’d been consistent with your book releases. But he never knew you had such… depth. He always only ever saw you as the bitchy girl who bullied him in uni and made his life hell. For the first time in years, Bucky wavered a little bit when it came to you. For the first time in years, he wondered whether this was worth it. 

“I see,” He spoke quietly, “So no downsides to being a well-loved author?” 

You chuckled, “Some. Like most things. I mean, this doesn’t happen a lot but a couple of times I’ve had people show up to my hotel room or my house even, demanding to know what happens in the next book. It’s scary, but, I mean I’ve dealt with it and I hope it doesn’t happen again.” 

Perfect. Bucky smiled, then said, “You know, you should hire security. At least when you’re touring. I can arrange it, I’ll send you some of my best guys. They’ll be discrete, and you won’t have to worry about anything.” 

He was pleased with how easily you agreed. Now he could have eyes on you all the time without all the secrecy. 

And the rest of the dinner went by smoothly. 

He thought he’d have to put in a lot more work. But when he dropped you off at your hotel lobby, and you asked him if he wanted to come up for a drink, he was pleasantly surprised. But of course he agreed and followed you to your room. 

You offered him a glass of red wine, he accepted. 

You made small talk, your eyes never leaving his. Bucky put on a show. Touching your hands, your face, but just enough to leave you wanting more. He watched how you lowered your head each time he gave you a compliment. But none of the compliments were lies, even despite all the hatred he felt towards you he had to admit, you were very beautiful. 

He also noted the way you kept scooting closer and closer to him on the couch. Out of nowhere, Bucky said, “You know, I googled you last night. And I came across some rather… naughty stuff that you’ve written.” 

You laughed and said, “In my world, we call those spicy scenes.” 

Bucky nodded, “I see. And are any of those based on real life?” 

There was that shy look on your face again. “Some are.” 

There was this unexplainable wave of discontent that washed over him upon hearing that. He didn’t know why but the thought of you having sex with someone else and it being good enough for you to write about it almost made him want to get up and leave. He hated it. 

“So if I fuck you, will you write about it?” He asked, so serious all of a sudden. 

You didn’t look away from his eyes as you replied, “Only if you’re memorable enough.” 

He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his mouth. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

He shook his head and reached for you, “Come here then,” He guided you over his lap so you could straddle him. He leaned in and whispered, “I’ll show you memorable enough.” 

You placed your hands on his shoulders, feeling all the hard muscles underneath his thin t-shirt while his hands slid up and down your sides as his lips kissed all over your neck. He hummed and breathed and chuckled right into your ear as he explored your body. Then, getting impatient he asked, “Can I please take your dress off?” 

Within the next few seconds, you were completely bare in his lap. 

“So beautiful,” He murmured, looking at you with those gorgeous eyes that he knew could make people melt so easily. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He whispered along your collar bones, kissing and licking your skin. You inched closer to him, rubbing your crotch against his clothed but erected cock, making the both of you gasp and moan. “Yeah? Is that what you want?” He teased, tightening his grip on your waist just a little and pulling you closer to him, nuzzling your neck again. 

You slid your fingers into his hair and whispered into his ear, “Yes, please.” 

He hid the fact that your voice made him shiver. He shook it off as quickly as he could. Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan. 

Bucky recovered, and smirked against your skin the moment he heard you gasping and whining under his touch. “What do you want, huh?” He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly, grounding you on his clothed cock in the process, “My fingers?” He reached up to grab the back of your neck, tilting your head back so he could kiss and whisper against your skin, “My mouth? Or my cock?” 

You whined, then said, “Your cock, please.” You begged him. And fuck, it was satisfying to hear. Just what he wanted. 

He chuckled, letting his hand rest at your butt, bringing your body closer to his. How long had he waited to have you at his mercy like this? He was gonna have all the fun he’d dreamt of having. “Well then you have to work for it.” He said, teasing you. “Now come on, take it out and slide it in you.” 

Bucky leaned back and watched each one of your moves. The desperation in your eyes as you stared up at him, how your eager hands rapidly undid his pants to free his throbbing cock. How you handled him like he was nothing but just a hot fling. 

Oh baby, Bucky scoffed mentally, you have no idea who I am, do you? 

He caught the way you whimpered under your breath at the sight of him, like the rest of him, his cock was nice and thick too. 

He watched as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly stroking his veiny cock, making him throw his head back and groan under his breath. “I said put it inside you, baby.” He bit his lower lip to keep from moaning too much. 

Bucky watched you as you lifted your body off of his lap and aligned the tip of his cock to your hole and then slowly, slowly sank down on him. You both moaned, watching his cock disappear inside of you. 

“Fuck…” You moaned, looking at him with that damned innocent look in your eyes. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. “Come here,” He growled once he was nice and deep inside your warm, wet hole. Grabbing you by the throat, Bucky pulled you closer and kissed you hungrily. Growling into your mouth about how good it felt to be inside you, “You did such a good job. Look how pretty you look, filled with my cock, huh? Do you realise how pretty you look, baby?” 

You whined against his mouth, begging, immediately grinding your hips against his, desperate for some friction. For any kind of movement. Just needy. 

“Please…” 

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you now.” He whispered against your mouth, your warm breaths mingling. “I’ve got you. I’ll make it feel good, okay?” His hands grabbed you by the hips as he carefully helped you lift your lower body up and then slowly, lowering you down his cock again. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” 

You nodded, looking down to see where your bodies connected and the sight of it, of his cock stretching you out was just sinful. 

“You feel perfect, you know that?” Bucky grabbed and held your hips in place, gently thrusting his hips up, making you moan as he filled you up, “Just a perfect girl for me, aren’t you? Who would’ve thought, huh?” 

It was a good thing you were too lust-drunk to fully process his ramblings. 

Bucky leaned in to kiss your open mouth again, moving your body gently, rocking you back and forth on his cock to get you to get used to the girth of him. His cock throbbed against your walls, causing the tiniest bit of friction which drove you insane and turned you into a teary, mumbling mess. “Aww baby, what is it? Is it too much? Hmm?” He teased, placing his thumb against your clit and rubbing it slowly while still moving your hips back and forth. “Is that too much?” 

You looked into his eyes with your teary ones and said, “You… feel so good.” You whined. 

Bucky smirked. Right where he wanted you. He let go of your hips, no longer helping you to move. “Go on then, take what you want. And make it good for me.” 

Sheepishly, you lifted your lower body slightly, before sliding back down on his cock. Now that he wasn’t helping you, it was way harder than earlier. You struggled to make him fit for a moment. But only for a moment. 

You whimpered and he groaned once he fit snug inside of you again. The tip of his cock reaching sensitive places you never knew existed. 

“That’s good, baby.” Bucky murmured, caressing your thigh. “But open your eyes. I want you to look at me while you take my cock so perfectly like my good girl. You hear me?” 

You looked right at him, nodding as you began riding his cock as best as you could before you finally found the right pace and rhythm. You moved faster then, impaling yourself down on his cock each time, whimpering shamelessly as you felt him filling you up completely each time, feeling him reach deeper into you with each thrust. 

“That’s it. Take it, take all of me in that tight, perfect little cunt…” He leaned in to kiss you, biting down and tugging at your bottom lip while you sped up, his cock stretched you out each time he filled you up.

His hand circled around your waist, his muscular arms caging you in and he pulled your warm body closer to his. You were nothing but a moaning mess at this point. 

You bounced on his cock moaning and whining, feeling him stretch you out. Bucky now held you at your waist and rhythmically thrust his hips up each time to match your movements. Brows furrowing and panting while you rode his cock, throwing his head back and growling in pleasure. 

“You feel so fucking good…” He tried to contain his grunts, “Oh fuck, you’ll get me addicted to this cunt, huh? And I’ll want it every day now. But you’ll give it to me, won’t you? You’ll let me fuck it, or taste it, or both, won’t you, angel?” 

“Yes,” You whined, nodding helplessly. “Whatever you want.” 

He chuckled, kissing down your neck and whispering against your skin about how perfect you felt around him. He panted against your skin, kissing you all over, “This cunt is mine now, you hear me? All fucking mine. All of it.” 

“Yes…”

You didn’t slow down when you felt your orgasm wash over you, and Bucky kept thrusting his hips up into you even as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came.

“Oh fuck!” You cried out, your walls squeezing and clenching around him as you came undone, all that pressure exploding in a satisfying way. 

Bucky came right after you, his warm load spilling inside of you, filling you up as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed your trembling body closer to his. 

— 

“I wish I could stay in the city a little longer.” You mumbled against his chest. 

Bucky smirked, his fingers mindlessly tracing random shapes on your skin. “Where are you going after this?” 

You told him which city you were off to the next day for more book signings and readings. And Bucky pretended to be surprised, as if he didn’t know already, “I’m headed there too. One of our offices there needs me for something.” Lies. “I’ll leave in a day or two.” 

You sat up at the sound of that, looking down at Bucky with a mischievous look in your eyes. Bucky smirked because he could already see your thought process. 

“Could we, um, see each other again?” You asked, still a little shy. 

Bucky reached out to touch your face, playing the part of the enamoured stranger too well. “Of course we can, angel. I’ll come find you, don’t you worry.” 

— 

It was almost too easy to find you again. His guards who were watching over you let him know of all your moves, where you were, which hotel you stayed at, where your event was held, what time, etc. 

So finding you at your book signing event, and surprising you by sneaking around and pulling you into a nearby utility closet was not a problem at all. 

You gasped, in surprise, then let out a chuckle once you realized it was just him. “Bucky!” 

Bucky pulled you close and gave you a gentle kiss. “I’ve missed you, angel.” 

You relaxed in his arms, “But I saw you just two nights ago.” 

“I know,” He leaned in to kiss your neck. “Still missed you,” He whispered. 

You let out a soft moan when he licked and bit your skin. “Bucky…” You groaned, then giggled when his rough stubble tickled your neck. And that cold metal of his lip ring making you shiver.  “I have to be out and take pictures in a while.” 

He pulled away immediately. “Sorry, I thought–,” 

“No,” You cut him off, again with that shy but mischievous look in your eyes. Then you leaned in and whispered against his mouth, “I didn’t say we had to stop.” You pressed a soft kiss to the side of his mouth, right on his lip ring. 

Then you kissed his neck, then slowly got down on your knees. Your hands trailing down his body until you reached his belt buckle. 

Okay. This was not in the plan. Bucky thought in his head. 

“Can I?” You asked, looking up at him with those eyes of yours. 

Fuck. Fuck! How long had he waited for this? Years. Even in uni, even when he hated you, he was just a young man and he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have you on your knees for him. Fuck. Focus, Bucky, focus! 

“Go ahead, baby.” He whispered. “It’s all yours to play with.” 

Those words made you hurry. You rapidly undid his belt, unzipped his pants and freed his hard cock. The mere sight of it had you whimpering with need. You wrapped your hands around him and placed your mouth on his tip, your tongue slowly circling his tip before you slowly took more of him, as much as you could fit, into your mouth. 

You looked up and found him looking down at you intensely, blinking slowly, eyes heavy with lust, and breathing heavily. Fuck, he was a sight, you thought. The lip ring on that swollen, soft, pink lower lip. Those tattoos peeking from under the collar of his shirt, the tattoos along his muscular forearms… 

You kept your eyes on his gorgeous face as you sucked on his cock. He had the kind of manly beauty that made you want to worship him with your mouth. Usually, you’d never get down on your knees this quickly for any man. But Bucky… he was special, wasn’t he? 

Bucky closed his eyes momentarily, lips parted and gasping as he tilted his head back. “Fuck…” he moaned and you only quickened your pace. He moved his hips forward, gently fucking your mouth. He looked back down and smirked, you looked magnificent on your knees, taking him perfectly.

“Is this what you’ve been dreaming of doing for the past two days, huh?” He teased. “While you’re out there innocently reading your books, and signing autographs for your fans, and smiling for pictures, is this what was in the back of your mind, angel?” 

You nodded, your mouth still full of him. 

Bucky chuckled, “Yeah, not so innocent, are you?” He carefully quickened the pace at which he moved in and out of you, eager to chase his orgasm. “You’re lucky you have to go back out there and look presentable, otherwise I’d make a mess all over your face, baby.” He said, then hissed when you took him out of your mouth, licking his cock from bottom to top while your hands toyed with his balls. “Oh, you little tease.” He smirked. “No more teasing, baby, come on. Put it back in your mouth.” He ordered. 

And you listened. You took him back into your mouth and sucked on his cock until he came undone all over your tongue. Bucky came with a loud sigh, closing his eyes and relishing the warmth of your mouth wrapped around him. You swallowed all of him, licked him clean and zipped his pants back up and did his belt again before standing up to face him again. 

He smiled at you. “I’m gonna return the favour later, okay?” 

You nodded while he wiped the corners of your mouth with his thumbs, and fixed your hair as best as he could. Bucky loved the dreamy look in your eyes. 

You slid him your hotel room key and said, “See you later, Bucky.” Then you left the closet with a wink. 

Bucky stayed there for a minute. Alone and thinking. This was easier than he thought. He kinda hoped you’d play hard to get a little more, but this was great too. 

—

Bucky did show up to your hotel room that night. He had a favour to return after all. But then, after that night, things went a little off his initial plan. 

Bucky ended up following you around the world for the next month or so, going from city to city. Fucking in hotel rooms, or anywhere he could get you alone. He ended up infiltrating each one of your events, sometimes he’d show up just so he could then take you out for dinner after a long day, then he’d end up sleeping in your bed each night. 

He knew he was deviating from his plan. But what could he do? He was having fun, and so were you. Neither one of you was putting a label on this thing anyway. Plus, he had waited for this for so long. So he let it happen for some more weeks, shamelessly enjoying anytime he got to have you under him, or be under you, or touching you, or kissing you. All for the sake of younger him, of course. 

Bucky let it go like this until you were nearing the last leg of your tour. And you had about a week off before the last few remaining events. 

It was time, he realised. To mess with you a little more. 

So he made you an offer he knew you wouldn’t refuse. 

The two of you were in your penthouse, back in your city. And Bucky had travelled with you. The two of you could barely keep your hands off each other. So here you were now, early morning, cuddling in bed. 

“How would you like a weekend getaway, baby? At a nice cabin, small town, endless woods,” He proposed, pulling you closer under the covers since you were both refusing to get out of bed that morning. “Just you, and me, and a hot tub.” He whispered, kissing your face while you writhed in his arms, giggling and trying to get away because you were really ticklish. “And lots of sex.” 

You laughed, finally out of his embrace, and got up to straddle him, pinning his arms in place as you looked down at him. Both of you completely naked, but who cared? “I wake up sore everyday because of you.” 

Bucky smirked, freeing his hands from your grip easily. “Weird, ‘cause you never complain when we’re doing it.” He spoke, his hands mindlessly caressing your bare thighs. “In fact, you always ask for more.” 

“Right.” You smacked his chest playfully. “And now you want to lock me inside a cabin with you? We won’t ever leave the bed. I still have work to do, you know? I should’ve started working on my next book weeks ago.” You said, “But a certain tattooed, blue-eyed hottie is ruining my plans.” 

He laughed at the irony of what you said. “Oh come on, angel,” He pleaded. “I just want one weekend alone with you. Just one. Where we don’t have to meet or interact with other people. It’ll be just us.” 

You smiled and nodded, “Fine. I should start packing.” 

— 

The cabin was everything. Much larger than you expected. Bucky told you that this was one of his favourite properties that he owned, at the foot of a mountain, surrounded by dense, foggy woods, the rich veridian pine trees, the dark mountains, and rain clouds. 

It was the perfect setting to get some writing done as well, you thought. 

“Oh! This is perfect, Buck!” You said the moment you stepped inside the log home. The setting sun really added to the charm of the place. You spun in slow circles, taking it all in. The high ceiling, the grand staircase, the nice kitchen, the neat living area with the comfiest chairs by the large windows, and the giant fireplace. 

You immediately walked over to the biggest chair with the softest cushions and plopped down on it with a happy sigh. “I never wanna leave.” You squealed, giggling as you squirmed and buried deeper into the cushions. “Can I just stay here forever? Look at this place, Buck!” 

Bucky was frozen in place. Watching you. Unable to take his eyes off you. The happy smiles, the way you made sure to point out all the things you liked and compliment them. The way you immediately made yourself at home. The way you chose the most comfortable spot and decided that was your spot, like a house cat by a sunny window. 

What the hell was he feeling?! And why did he feel kinda bad for having led you on this whole time? Was he doing the wrong thing? Messing with you was the plan, but then what? What after that? Was he being ridiculous? Did he just waste years of his life planning and plotting when he could’ve just let it all go and move on? Uni was years ago. Was this all a childish utter waste of time and energy? 

Fuck. He cursed himself. What was he doing? It was obvious that you weren’t the same person you were back then. People had the right to change and they did all the time. 

“Bucky?” Your voice dragged him back to reality. “Are you okay?” You got up from your chair and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around him as you said, “Thank you for bringing me here, I love it.” You buried your face into his chest and sighed, “You seem tired. Can we get into the hot tub now? I think we both need to relax for a minute.” 

He looked down at you and nodded, smiling as he touched your face gently. “Of course, angel.” 

— 

Bucky knew he seemed distant while he was in the hot tub with you, not even the breathtaking view of the woods and the lights from the small town could cheer him up. His mind was far away, even while you were in his lap. 

“Hey,” You whispered, leaning in to kiss his rough cheek. “What’s going on with you?” You asked quietly. 

“Nothing.” He forced a soft smile and said, “Just work stuff.” 

You looked a little disappointed. “I thought you wanted this time away from everyone.” 

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him, your bare chest pressing against his. “I know, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll stop worrying about the rest of the world.” He nuzzled your neck and kissed you until you giggled, until that disappointed look on your face disappeared. “It’s just you and me.” 

Then what started out as innocent kisses, turned into steamy making out, then turned into the two of you fucking until you were completely spent. 

— 

The next two days went by quickly. Bucky lost track of time since he was so lost in you. It was so easy to pretend. To pretend that this was real and that he wasn’t just here with you because of some grunge he’d been nurturing since he was in his early twenties. 

But then came your last night here at his log home. And Bucky could barely sleep. He kept tossing and turning, while you were sleeping soundly next to him. He was feeling a lot. Anger, regret, guilt. 

He couldn’t stay in bed any longer. So he got up and walked downstairs, straight to that secret door behind which was his ‘study room’. This room contained everything he knew and had gathered about you since his uni days. Photographs, addresses, phone numbers, everything. And there, occupying the entirety of one of the walls was the bulletin board he used to keep track of everything. Where you went, who you met, details about people from your inner circle, literally everything. 

Bucky stood in front of the giant bulletin board that had a picture of you right in the middle, surrounded by pictures of you no one else had, pictures you didn’t even know were taken of you. In hotel lobbies, at airports, inside your homes, and more. Bucky’s eyes followed that red thread he used to mark each step of his ‘plan’, and the rope ended here – at the log house. The was plan was simple, all he had to do was– 

“What the hell is this?” A shaky voice asked from behind him. 

Bucky froze for a second, then kept his calm. Fuck it. He wasn’t gonna be able to pretend for much longer anyway. “I thought you were sleeping.” 

He turned around and faced you. You stood at the door which he carelessly forgot to lock behind him. There, in your pink PJs, looking at him with accusation and fear in your eyes. He hated that look. Suddenly Bucky was even angrier, at himself, at the situation he thought he had under control, at everything. 

He knew how this looked. He was standing a few feet away from you with a poker face, and that damn wall behind him was like a silent but deadly monster ready to pounce. He noticed the way you were shaking already. 

“Who are you?” You asked him, hands trembling even as you tried to keep your calm. Acting rash wouldn’t help you. 

So smart. So brave. 

“Forgot me so soon, angel?” Bucky scoffed, “You don’t remember me? It’s only been, what, like ten years since uni? James? The kid with glasses you liked to bully? You’d slash my tires for fun,” He began listing, “You’d make up rumours about me, you’d chased away all the friends I made, you’d cast me out and make sure I was alone all the time, you really did act like it was your world and we were all just living in it back then, remember? You and your minions?” Bucky shook his head, “I know you remember.” 

A shaky exhale, then you whispered under your breath, as if to yourself, starting to back away as the realisation set in. “No… why would you–,” 

Bucky reached for and grabbed your wrist before you could get away from him. He slammed the door shut behind you and pushed you against it. Once locked, the door only opened with the code was entered. And you didn’t know the code, so you were well trapped with him in this room. 

“Why would I?” He asked, dramatically. Placing his hands on the door behind you, trapping you between the hard, cold wood and his body, his tattooed, bare chest pressing against you. Bucky said, “Because you made my life hell that’s why. I’m not that kid anymore.” He whispered, his tone icy and mean. “I’m all grown up now, and I deserve to have some fun, don’t I?” He watched as tears fell down your face. “Aww, are you crying, baby? Hmm?” He leaned closer to you and whispered against the side of your trembling mouth, knowing his beard felt rough against your skin, “You ruined my plans with your pretty face, with that sweet look in your eyes, and your addicting fucking pussy, and now you’re crying?” He taunted, enjoying the way you gasped in surprise at his crude words. 

He also noted how you didn’t even try to push him away. It’s like you rolled over and admitted defeat. You weren’t even trying to fight back. But you did look terrified. 

Bucky pulled away to look into your eyes. “I intended to mess with you for a little bit, and make you pay for how you treated me all those years ago.” He explained. “But having you mess with my head in return wasn’t in the plans, you know?” 

“Please,” You whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please let me go. I’ll do anything, Bucky. I’m sorry.” More tears rolled down your cheeks. “Please.” You begged again. 

Bucky, despite the guilt he’d felt just moments ago, scoffed in your face with a smirk on his own. “That’s not what you were begging for just an hour ago, was it?” Bucky pouted and then with his best whiny voice mocked you, “‘oh please baby, that’s it, fuck you feel so good. More, more, please, oh fuck please–,” 

You cut him off with a slap across the face. Bucky chuckled like an asshole, not feeling the pain at all, even though it sent his face sideways because he wasn’t expecting it. And somehow getting a reaction out of you tasted so sweet. He wanted more. 

“Do you remember now? Remember how you made my life miserable?” He asked. 

Sniffling, you asked him back, “What do you want? I said I was sorry.” 

“Oh no. You don’t get to just apologise. For four years of my life, I’d wake up every single day and hate it.” He said. “Because of you and your cool group of friends.” His tone was so bitter it was unrecognizable. “Did it make you feel good? Making fun of me? Did it make you feel all big and powerful, picking on me?” 

You shook your head, sniffling. Looking like you regretted it now. Part of him wanted to end this weird interrogation, but he also needed to know, didn’t he? 

So he asked. “Then why did you do it?” 

Silence. 

One of his hands left the door and wrapped itself around your throat. Bucky felt how you tensed under his touch as he pressed himself against you even more, making sure you couldn’t slip away. 

“Buck–,” You squealed, but the way he tightened his grip just a little made you stop. 

Bucky continued with his taunts. “Writing all those things on my door. Spreading rumours about me. Ruining any chance I had at real friendships with people. You think that was funny?” 

You finally found your voice, though quiet and pleading. “Those were stupid, childish pranks, Bucky please, and I am so s–” 

He cut you off again, raising his voice a little. “Childish pranks to you! For me those childish pranks of yours made my life hell for four years.” He scoffed. “You were the popular girl everyone wanted. Your parents were rich. You had everything most of us didn’t have. So why did you do it?” He questioned. “Why did you pick on me? Why not the others? What did I ever do to you to deserve that treatment?” His voice went down so low it made you tremble. 

He loved it. The power he held in that moment. For a moment, he wished the younger him had felt half the way he felt right now. He decided to mess with you just a little more. Scaring you with his words, because he knew he could never hurt you. Not like this. “We’re all alone up this mountain, you know?” He said, in a calm voice that only made your tears flow even more. “No neighbours,” He reminded you. “No one to hear you scream, no one to help you.” He surprised himself with how cold he sounded, like he was someone else. 

“Please.” You begged, unable to say anything else. 

“I used to dream about this, you know?” He confessed. “About having you at my mercy. About having you plead and beg me.” He chuckled, staring right into your eyes. “It’s fucked up, you see? I could never understand it.” 

He tilted his head to the side, sliding his thigh in between your legs, loving the way you gasped and instinctively, mindlessly spread your legs ever so gently to let him in, it was barely noticeable. 

“As much as I hated you before, as much as you were a total bitch to me, I never stopped wondering what it would be like to be inside you.” He scoffed, as if at a memory. “I used to fantasize about it back in uni too. I always wondered what it would be like to have you open and soft and wet for me.” He pressed his leg up against your core. “To hear you purr and moan, and fuck me,” He laughed, “You’re better than what I imagined.” 

You were trapped in place, unable to move, unable to look away. Bucky could tell you were scared, but there was something else in your eyes that he couldn’t quite name. A strange calmness of sorts. 

Bucky continued his monologue, rubbing his thigh so gently in between your legs. He doubted you even noticed because all you did was stare at him with teary eyes, that strange look in them, and your soft mouth slightly open. “So what is it about you, huh?” He squeezed his hand around your throat for just a second before letting go, he could feel your pulse quicken. “What is it about this god damn pussy that made me ruin my own plans.” He scoffed in disappointment. “I never intended to keep you around for so long. I wanted to bring you up here as quickly as possible, mess with you a little bit, scare you and send you running. And in the meantime make you regret how you treated me all those years ago.” 

Bucky pulled his thigh away from yours, and smirked when you gasped at the loss of contact. Ah, so you were enjoying it. He was sure he looked just as smug as he felt. 

“But,” Bucky continued, “All I’ve done since I met you is be buried deep into that pussy. And anytime I’m not in there I think about it. About you. About your taste. The sounds you make when I’m fucking you. The way you say my name. The way you look under me. The way your arms and legs wrap around me so perfectly…” He trailed off, noticing the way you squeezed your eyes shut, as if not facing him would erase all those weeks you spent tangled with one another. 

“Look at me,” He murmured, still in that mean and cold voice. The one he could barely recognise. He didn’t sound like someone who hated you. He sounded like someone who was obsessed. “A few weeks in your company and I’m willing to do just about anything to keep you looking at me with that dreamy look in your eyes.” He said, sincerely. “I wanna give you everything. Wanna take you anywhere you wanna go. Show you everything. Make all your wishes come true.” 

He noticed your eyes were still shut. So he got bolder, he reached for your hair and grabbed a fistful securely in his grip, tilting your head back so you had no choice but to open your eyes in fear, panic, and… that strange look he couldn’t quite decipher. “Look at me!” He hissed. “Look at what you’ve done to me! Haven’t you fucked with my head enough?!”

You spoke up this time. Pleading again, “Bucky, I’m so sorry. I mean it. I wasn’t– I wasn’t thinking back then.” You sniffled. “I was so stupid, everything I did was so stupid, Bucky please. I really am sorry.” 

“Yeah?” He sounded bored. Then like a switch, he went back to being icy again. “You wanna make up for it?” 

A blink. Silence. Then you said, “Don’t hurt me.” 

Bucky chuckled. “Oh baby,” He cooed, “Is that what you think I’m gonna do? Hurt you? If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done it that same night at the bar.” He shook his head, his hand leaving your hair, coming down to trace the shape of your mouth. “Hurting you was never in the plans.” 

You shivered. 

“Making you beg for it was.” He stated. “And you will.” He sounded so confident. “You will beg me for it, won’t you? Hmm? You’ll beg me to fuck you. And then you’re gonna say you’re sorry. And you’ll really mean it this time. You want that, don’t you, baby?” He smirked. “Of course you do. Otherwise why would you be rubbing yourself all over me like that?” 

You froze, probably just now realising what you’d been doing this whole time. Bucky couldn’t help the smug smirk. Oh fuck, this is everything he’s ever dreamt of. So he reached for you, his hands sliding right up in between your legs. 

He watched how you frowned for a moment as he rubbed his fingers against your clothed, but embarrassingly wet folds. Your thin, little satin shorts were barely a barrier. 

“Oh?” He teased, “Treating you like a little slut doesn’t turn you off, does it?” He pulled you closer by your throat and you shivered again, whimpering quietly. You gasped as he lazily circled your clothed clit, smearing your wetness around. “You filthy, little whore.” He chuckled, then pushed your shorts and underwear to the side to touch you properly. You let out an involuntary moan and he smirked, pressing his lips against yours but not kissing you yet. “Yeah? You like that?” 

“Please…” You pleaded, still not pushing him away. Your hands remained at your sides. Your body felt warm under his touch, and he couldn’t get enough of it. 

“Please what?” He almost growled as he slid a finger inside you and felt you immediately clench hard around him. “See? This is what I’m talking about. It was so much easier to hate you when I didn’t know what you felt like, what you tasted like,” He spoke, his lips leaving your mouth and trailing to your ear where he whispered, “Now all I wanna do is get inside you and make you happy.” He sighed, then chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all. “What the hell are you doing to me?” 

Hearing you whine and gasp as he slowly pumped his finger in and out of you was divine. 

He added another finger. “Look at you,” He taunted, “Do you feel powerful now as you did back then? Hmm?” He spoke against your cheek, his hot breath fanning your face as he pulled away just a little to look at you. “Is this where you thought you’d be one day, you little slut? At my mercy?” He chuckled, removing his hands from in between your legs as he pulled you away from the door, keeping his hand at your throat simply because he wanted to and moved you until you were sitting on the edge of his large, nearby desk. 

He stepped away for a moment, just to look at you and your slightly disheveled state. Your satin PJs sticking to your now damp with sweat skin. You were breathing heavily, your hands clutching the edge of his desk for dear life. 

“I want you to get naked and bend over the desk.” 

You remained frozen in place, even when the order left his lips. Bucky toyed with his lip ring, before pulling it into his mouth while he stared into your eyes. “Did you not hear me?” 

Finally finding your voice, you whispered again, “Bucky, I said I was sorry.” 

Bucky stepped closer until he stood right in front of you and reached out to grab your hair at the back of your neck again, fisting it securely in his grip as he tugged just a little to tilt your head back. It seemed to be the only way he got your attention. He leaned in to nuzzle your neck, kissing along your throat, lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. “I don’t want your apology. I want you begging for me. Now, didn’t you hear what I said? I told you to bend over the desk for me.” He used that tone again, the icy one. The one that said you were in trouble if you didn’t do what he asked. 

So you did. 

When he released you, you held his stare with some cold defiance in your eyes as you discarded your PJs. You’d gotten naked with him multiple times over the last month or two, so this was nothing. Once done, you turned around and bent over the edge of his large desk. 

You sighed in defeat when your cheek pressed against the cold surface of the polished wood, your hands laid palm down on each side of your head. You ass pressed against the front of his sweatpants and you whimpered at the feel of his thick, hard cock beneath the fabric, rubbing against your soft folds. 

You felt his hands on your body. He placed his hands on each side of your waist and caressed your body, rubbing up and down along your sides, touching your ass but not once touching you right where you needed him to. 

You gasped, then he noticed you quickly bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning too loud. 

He scoffed before pinching your skin to make you gasp again, “I wanna hear every little sound you make.” He finally trailed his fingers down in between your legs and lazily traced along your slit. “So wet and ready for me.” He chuckled. 

He heard your gasping and whimpering as quietly as you could as he lazily finger-fucked you. You whined as he touched a sensitive spot inside you. Teasing you a bit more before pulling out. 

Bucky lowered his sweats to free his cock, then his hands were on you again. He grabbed you on either side of your hips before pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance. But he didn’t slide his cock inside of you yet. 

He waited, he could almost feel your heart racing as he did nothing but wait for a reaction from you. He caught the way you discretely tried to push back into him but he moved away, chuckling as you whined in desperation. 

“Aww, what is it?” He asked, leaning over your exposed back. His chest pressing down onto you as he whispered into your ear. “You want this cock? Huh? You want it so bad, don’t you?” He hissed, “Then beg for it, slut.” 

He heard a weak, “Please,” but that wasn’t enough now, was it? 

“I said, beg.” 

“Please… Bucky, I– I want your cock. So bad.” You whispered. “Please, can I have it?” Like you were ashamed of wanting him. “I’ll be good from now on, I promise.” 

He wasn’t expecting that last part, but honestly, how sweet was it to hear! 

Pleased with your begging, Bucky groaned under his breath as he pushed himself slowly inside of you, feeling your walls tighten around him. You whimpered as he filled you up, stretching you as he went. 

He pulled out and thrust deep into you once again, making you moan and gasp under him. “You’ll be good, huh?” He reached out and grabbed your wrists, pinning them down at your lower back as he started rocking into you. Slowly at first, then gradually building up his pace. “Just this cock has you acting right, huh?” He laughed as he fucked deep into you, your front bumping against the edge of the desk each time. 

“Yes…,” You admitted. You whimpered as he pounded even harder into you at the sound of that confession. His pelvic bone smacking against your ass each time he thrust into you.

“Yeah? Not such a proud, arrogant little slut now, are you?” He growled, tightening his grip on your wrists as he fucked you harder, feeling your walls getting tighter around him. “Huh? You’re not as bitchy as you were back then, look at you now. All nice and bent over my desk.” He hissed, “Don’t you dare fucking come yet!” 

You whined, “Bucky, I can’t-,” 

He cut you off quickly, “Yes you fucking can.” He snarled. “You said you were gonna be good from now on, right? Well hold it then, don’t fucking come yet.” He slammed his cock harder into you, making your eyes squeeze shut. He thrust so deep into you that even the desk moved a little, screeching as it did across the floor. 

A loud moan escaped your mouth and Bucky smirked. Looks like you were enjoying this a little too much, huh? He couldn’t have that just yet, now could he? So he pulled out and pulled you up and off the desk, turning you around so you faced him. 

Your lips parted as you gasped for air, your tear stained face was a sight to behold. And that wild hunger in your eyes because even given the situation, he fucked you good and knew how to make you want more of it, and he knew that. 

“Get on your knees.” He ordered. “Now.” 

He was surprised at how quick you were, obeying immediately, falling perfectly on your knees in front of him. You watched him with a hunger in your teary eyes. And that strange look still. You kept your eyes on his as he grabbed his glistening cock at the base and guided his tip over to your already open mouth, spreading your own wetness all over your mouth and said, “Be a good little slut, and suck.” 

You did. You opened wide as he pushed himself deeper and deeper into your mouth. You took him in slowly until he hit the back of your throat. He gripped the back of your neck, keeping you in place as he spoke, “Now, worship this fucking cock like it’s the only thing you’re good for. He smirked as you began moving immediately, “That's it. Make me fucking come, you filthy little slut.” 

You looked up at him, and for a moment, Bucky was fully captivated. Like he was in a trance. There you were, kneeling before him with his cock in your mouth like it’s the only thing you’ve ever wanted to do. Just like how he’d always dreamt of. 

“Oh, look at you,” He cooed, as if mocking you. “Working hard for this cock, huh? Remember that night at the bar, bet you wanted it right there. You could barely wait to have it, could you? You barely bothered to ask me my full name,” He chuckled. “You were just so hungry for it.” Bucky let out a carefree chuckle as he looked down at you, “Tell me, do you still want it just the same now that you know who I really am?” He asked, knowing damn well you couldn’t respond with his cock filling your mouth. 

Another tear dropped from your eye, but then you nodded awkwardly, mouth still around his tip. 

“Yeah, you do. ‘Cause you’re nothing but a cock hungry little slut, aren’t you?” He groaned at the sight of you with your mouth full and said, “That’s it. Get up.” 

You listened, and he shoved you up on the edge of the table again before he stepped in between your legs. His hand grabbed you by the chin, holding your face in place as he aligned his cock to your core again. He slipped inside you with ease, making you gasp as he began fucking you again. 

“Look at you,” He spoke through gritted teeth, now fucking you with a rougher pace. “Fucking disgusting with spit and precum all over your mouth,” He whispered, leaning in just to mess with you – not once kissing you. He pushed your thighs further apart so he could fuck you deeper. 

“Bucky…” You gasped. 

“What, slut?” He fucked deeper into you, pounding into you relentlessly. “Your little cunt feels so good, you know that? So fucking tight,” He whispered against your mouth, before pulling away to spit into your open mouth, not once stopping his thrusts. “It’s a shame you were such a bitch back then, otherwise you could’ve had this cock a long time ago.” 

“Please…” You whined as he pounded into you aggressively. A tear slipped out of the corner of your eye. 

“Yeah? You’re sorry now?” 

You nodded. 

Bucky felt your walls clench violently around him. “Fuck,” He growled into your ear, “Are you gonna come for me? You're gonna come all over this cock? Huh?”  

“Yes,” You whimpered, “Yes, please.” You cried in pleasure and pain. “Please, Buck.” 

“Damn it!” He groaned. “Fuck you! Fuck you for being so good. For messing with my head.” He hissed, staring deep into your eyes, “And fuck you for not letting me enjoy this as much as I wanted to because I can’t bring myself to fucking hurt you!”  

Bucky slowed down just a little, making you cry out. 

“I dreamt of this, you know? All I’ve ever done is think about this moment right here. I always thought I’d scare you to a point where you take off running,” He scoffed, “Hell, I even fantasized about chasing after you in these damn woods!” He shook his head, still holding your stare. “Look at me now, look! Even now I couldn’t help but make it nice and good for you. To fuck you like I know you like it. I couldn’t help but be buried deep inside you yet again!” 

“I’m sorry,” You whined, “I really am.” 

Bucky wanted to punch himself. 

“Shut the fuck up and come for me!” 

A loud cry, then you came – mumbling and whining and crying. A complete mess on his desk. 

Bucky followed shortly after, coming undone while he was buried deep inside you, gripping your thigh so tightly that his fingers would surely leave a bruise behind. He caught you just as you fell forward into his chest, unable to hold yourself up as you caught your breath. 

Bucky calmed himself down, let out a sigh and glared at that damned, giant bulletin board covering the entire wall behind you as he wrapped his arms around your shaking body. God damn it. 

—

Reader’s POV: 

Your memory was a little hazy after that. You remembered bits and pieces. How he got you into the shower. His gentle touches, even as he washed himself. His hands and how they never left your body, holding you close and cleaning you up as best he could. 

Him whispered, “I’ve got you.” Over and over again. Like he was guilty. 

You remember you tried talking to him, as he dried you with a fluffy towel, “You hate me.” It came out like a statement. 

“Be quiet.” His icy voice snapped, and he refused to meet your eyes. The coldness of his tone and the soothing, gentle touch of his hands were giving you a whiplash. But you took it. Of course, you did. 

“Would you ever forgive me?” You asked him as he wrapped your favourite fluffy robe around you and brought you to bed. It was late, closer to sunrise than midnight. “Could you?” 

Bucky finally looked at you and said, “Just… be quiet.” His tone was much softer than earlier. “Here, drink this.” He handed you some water. You accepted it, sipping on it as you let him fuss over the bedding and blankets until he made a nice little nest for you to sink into. 

You thought he’d tuck you in and leave, probably to go back to that weird lair of his downstairs. But no, he got in after you. Quiet, and grumpy as he was, he still pulled in to cuddle like you two had the habit of doing for the past month or two. 

You hid your face into his chest, sighing and breathing in his scent, letting his body heat warm you up. You could hear the wind picking up outside, but that was none of your concern. 

A minute went by in silence, in darkness, except for the bedside lamp which illuminated the room with a soft golden glow. Another minute went by, Bucky breathed steadily. His hands moving up and down your back. Both of you were quiet. 

There was so much you wanted to say to him, but all that came out was, “I’m sorry, Bucky.” 

He sighed, then let out a mindless, “Hmm.” 

“I really am.” You whispered again, snuggling closer as if you wanted to get inside his skin. 

Another careless, “Hmm.” 

You sniffled, feeling like crying again. “Please forgive me.” 

“Stop crying.” He said, gently this time. 

“I’ll make up for it.” You found yourself saying. “I’ll do anything. I mean it.” 

Bucky sighed. “Oh yeah? How will you make up for it?” He said, with just a hint of pleasantry in his tone. 

“How many kids do you want?” 

Bucky chuckled. Genuinely chuckled, not like the mocking ones from earlier. But this was boyish, and very him. “You’re finishing your book tour soon.” He said. “Then you’ve got to start on your new project.” He sighed again, sounding a little tired and spent. “No kids for now, angel.” 

Silence again. This silence felt way less tense than before. Bucky’s movements were getting slower and slower as he relaxed more and more. 

Then out of nowhere you asked, “Have you… ever read any of my books?” 

A pause. Then he said, “All of them.” 

That took you by genuine surprise. “All of them?” 

“All of them.” 

You hesitated to ask, “Do you like them? 

Bucky let out a soft chuckle. “Do I like them?” He taunted. “Look at me. I became what you write about.” Then he reached for your face, tilting your head up so he could look at you. “Yes I do. I like them.” He said. “You’re very talented, baby. You deserved all the attention and recognition you get.” 

“Oh.” 

Silence again. You looked away from him, but he must’ve been able to see the gears turning in your head so he gently smacked your thigh and said, “Stop thinking.” He pulled the covers around you once again, making sure you were nice and warm. “Go to sleep.” He said. 

You snuggled deeper into his side, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. A few minutes went by, and Bucky fell asleep before you did. He began snoring softly just moments after. 

You stayed awake though. Thinking, caressing his bare chest. After all, how could one sleep after finally getting to where they plotted to be for the last ten years? You hid a smirk as you kissed Bucky’s warm, tattooed chest. You whispered, quietly, “Took me a decade to get to you, Buck. But it was all worth it.” You snuggled deeper into his side. Smiling at his adorable snores. 

Bucky was indeed a mastermind. Stalking you, following your each and every move. Keeping track of where you were and where you went at all times, who you met and what you did. It couldn’t have been easy. 

He thought he alone plotted this whole thing. He thought that he was the only one manipulating circumstances in ways to get what he wanted. Into getting you to let your guard down and let him in. Thinking you didn’t recognise him that night you met at the bar. 

Thinking you forgot. 

You let out a little chuckle, “Oh Buck. You did so well. But you don’t know half the work I put into all this.” You sighed, kissing his bare chest again, “Do you even know how much work goes into

manipulating someone into thinking they’re successfully manipulating you?” 

Bucky was a mastermind. Each one of his moves were perfectly calculated. He was so smart. He’d always been, ever since uni. 

But Bucky wasn’t the only mastermind. Because you plotted too. 

Always holding or attending book signings, readings, or other events in cities he was in. Always being around, but right outside of his circle – enough so that in these past ten years, he never stopped hearing about you from friends or colleagues, or friends of friends. Always making sure your advertisements were on billboards that were near his houses, offices, hang out spots, etc. 

All that was by your design. You made sure you’d never leave his head. 

You do admit, being mean to him in uni was stupid and unforgivable. But what else were you supposed to do? How else were you going to live rent free in his head? He never made a move on you in uni because he was also so intimidated. Always so shy, and quiet. 

So you did what you had to do. Sure, it took years. And the whole time, you let him think he was the only one orchestrating this. You let him think his manipulation techniques were working. You let him think he was punishing you when really, you’d been dreaming of these punishments ever since you saw him that first day on campus. 

Earlier, in the study, when you saw that bullet board and froze – it wasn’t out of fear. It was out of surprise. You knew Bucky always kept a close eye on you and everything you did these past years. You even let him. You let his guys follow you around, you let them overhear details you wanted Bucky to know. You let Bucky watch you, purposely lingering around cameras whenever you were out. 

But you didn’t know his obsession mirrored yours. Because if he would’ve searched your penthouse a little more thoroughly, he would’ve found a similar bulletin board that you’d been keeping for years now – tracking him and all that he did. 

You placed another kiss on Bucky’s chest and sighed in bliss. “You’re not the only mastermind, baby. But it’s not a competition now, is it? We both got what we wanted. Didn’t we?” You asked, looking up to see his peaceful, sleeping face. “Huh, baby? It’s alright. You’re a tiny bit sloppy with your stalking skills, but never mind. I’m here now. And I’m not leaving.” 

---

a/n: it's been a while huh-

[aislinregin]

I don't like getting political anymore. I have too much to protect, too much that leaves me and people I love profoundly vulnerable in the current climate. But I feel like I have to say this, so I'm going to do something that makes me sick to my stomach: I'm going to censor myself.

I have always told myself, my partners, my friends, my children that when you're getting the measure of someone, you should definitely trust your gut. Or your pet, whichever gets there first. Animals have a keen sense for danger, and your gut is just the part of you that doesn't realize you're supposed to be a civilized human. But also, possibly even more importantly, people always tell you who they are eventually. It might take a while, they might put on a good show for years. But sooner or later, people always tell you who they are and what they want to do. That can look different in different people. Let me give you an example.

When I was seventeen I started dating a guy I worked with. He was 19, so only a little older, but where I lived he was a legal adult so there was definitely a power dynamic at play that I was not equipped to navigate safely. This guy said all the right things, made all the right moves, for months. And the whole time my gut was whispering "this isn't right, something is wrong." But I could prove it, not even to myself, so I told myself I was imagining it. I was not imagining it. One day I was riding in the backseat of a car with this guy and he wanted to go to a friend's party. But it had been a long day for me and I was tired and I knew his friends were the type who would want to drink a lot of beer and act foolish and I was just not in the mood. So I said that was fine but he could go by himself because I wanted to go home and read a book. He said "no, we're going to the party." And I said "No, you can go if you want but I'm going home."

And then he slapped me across the face.

He did it once. I think it surprised him how little I reacted (it wasn't the first time I'd been slapped, it wasn't even the hundredth). I looked him in the eye and I remember very clearly that my gut was suddenly louder than a bullhorn: "YOU KNEW THIS WAS WRONG, AND NOW HE'S SHOWN YOU HOW."

So I smiled, all coy and sweet, and unbuckled my seatbelt to scoot over like I was going to cuddle up to him and "apologize." Then I unbuckled his seatbelt, reached across him, opened the door of the car, and shoved him out of the car. It was moving, slowly through a neighborhood, and the driver was so shocked he slammed on the brakes while I closed the door and locked it. The now ex boyfriend was screaming like he'd been shot (he was fine, was barely bruised). I told the driver that if he didn't drive me home right then I was calling the cops.

All that to say that people will always tell you who they are and what they want eventually. If they're being honest, what they say won't change much over time, just as they grow and evolve. You can track those changes, be part of them. But if they're lying or putting on a mask, sooner or later they'll slip up and then you'll know. What you do next will tell them a lot: it will tell them if you're going to let them be who they really are, if they can continue to use and abuse you. Trump has never been anything but brutally honest about who he is. He has been telling us from the start who he is and what he wants. And the whole damn country or even world has been scrambling to assure us that it's fine, he can't do those things, we have all these things that protect us (Congress, police, the military, the Constitution). But I have been listening to Trump and his people. I've heard everything they've said. They've told us who they are. And when people tell you who they are, the trick is to take them at their word. Believe them. So you know what? I believe him. But I can't shove him out of a moving car. I can get out of the car though. It's happened before. It's happened before here. We have a secret history no one wants to talk about, one with mass graves under residential schools less than two hours from where I sit right now, chemically castrated queers, non consensual lobotomies on autistics and other neurodivergents, internment camps and forced migrations and outright fucking massacres. What Trump and his puppeteers want is not out of line with this country's soul. This is not new. This is what this country has always been. It's time to believe it. It's time to get out of the fucking car.

Let's connect some dots here

The Trump administration kidnaps and sends hundreds of people to a prison camp in El Salvador with no due process (meaning they never have to prove these people committed whatever offence the Admin claims)

The Administration sets the precedent that anyone, up to green card holder and naturalized citizens, will be subject to this for practicing free speech in a way the Administration doesn't like

The Administration puts out two Executive Orders, one which says they believe trans people and parents of trans children are all sexual offenders and another that anyone who criticizes Israel is a terrorist

The President puts out a statement, in public, saying he wants to find ways to send US citizens to those foreign prison camps

The Administration directly defies 2 different SCOTUS decisions that say anyone who is deported must get due process and (this one a unanimous decision) they must return a wrongfully deported man

The US President now tells the President of El Salvador, again in public, that they will need to expand their facilities because he wants to start sending "homegrown criminals" to El Salvador very soon

We aren't even in boiling the frog territory any more, we're in a flash frier.

Like I hate sounding like a fucking tinfoil hat nutjob, but it's clear as day, right? He's saying exactly what he wants to do. And no one is doing anything about it. They're just saying "hey that's illegal!" and then letting it happen anyway.

[bakug0uzb1thc]

omg after reading your last request it made me think of my own. Katsuki x reader who is the older sister in her household. basically on top of the readers hero studies, she has to still be a second mother for her many siblings and is burnt out.

hope this isn’t too much or anything :)

Agh I enjoyed writing this sm :3 feel free to change any sibling names !!

Solutions

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem! Reader

Summary: ruined plans by having to watch your siblings take a cute turn !!

Warnings: none, mainly fluff, bkg might be ooc

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

You were supposed to have a nice date with Katsuki, you had been stressed and he said he’d take you out to help you both take a break from hero work and your studies.

you told him to stay outside so you could change real quick but you said that unaware of what was gonna meet you on the other side.

As you walked in and took off your shoes you were greeted by your younger twin brothers Kyo and Tsuyoi wrestling, your little sister Hiyori crying and your angelic baby brother yuro hugging his blanket on the sidelines just watching.

You wanted to cry, the one day you thought you could share with your boyfriend was now ruined. “Hey break it up you two.” You deadplanted grabbing both ten-year-olds by the back of their shirts but that didn’t stop them from trying to throw themselves at each-other.

“He started it y/n!” Kyo yelled pointing to the other boy that looked like a copy. “No it wasn’t!” Tsuyoi defended but you shut them up before they had any other words to throw.

“I don’t care who did what where’s mom?” Looking between the two waiting for an answer. “Shes asleep, she said she needed to take a nap.” Kyo sighed trying to squeeze out of your hold.

You were at a defeat, she worked another night shift at the hospital and you couldn’t just wake her up, but you were gonna have to tell Katsuki you had to cancel.

Walking out the door and shutting it behind you, he raised his gaze confused. “Thought you were gonna change?” He tilted his head, “I can’t suki, I need to watch my siblings. My mom worked the night shift and is taking a nap.” You fidgeted with your fingers trying your best to avoid his look.

“That’s fine? Your siblings love me.” He gave a smug smile. The disappointment you were expecting never came, you were only met by him giving you another solution.

“Are you su-“ the door you were leaning on opened to all your siblings peaking out to see who their sister was talking to.

“Hey it’s Bakugou!” Tsuyoi shouted flinging the door open. “Hey squirt.” He said ruffing the kids hair as he waved to all the rest of your siblings who thought foundly of him.

“See they love me.” He said even smugger than before with a matching smirk. “Hey I wanna show you the new video game I got!” Kyo said grabbing onto his hand dragging him into the house giving him just barely enough time to take off his shoes.

The rest of the night was surprisingly the most relaxed you’d been in a while, all of your hero studies you pushed yourself through no longer crowding your mind and to your shock Katsuki was weirdly good with your siblings.

Despite you having more brothers Katsuki never failed to include your little sister into whatever the boys were doing.

“You surprise me kat.” You whispered trying to not wake the 4 sleeping bodies that were against and on both you and Katsuki. All of you had sat down for a movie and boom they were all fast asleep.

“What do you mean?” He said still managing to have at least an arm wrapped around you.

“You’re so good with them, they don’t even like me that much.” You rolled your eyes with dramatic jealousy. “Dunno, I just want them to think I’m cool I guess.” He shrugged at the confession he thought was obvious.

“That so.. sweet.” You gave him a soft smile and laid your head on his shoulder, doing your best not to wake the sleeping yudo on your lap.

“Thank you, for helping me.” you rub your cheek on him trying to show some affection. “I can’t kiss you so I’m resorting to this don’t think I’m weird.” You tried to defend. “You’re still weird.” He laid his head on top of yours. “Shut up.”

[zlut4rina]

𝑳𝒊𝒎𝒐 𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒏'

Storyline: After inviting you to a party with some of her 'New Friends' things, take an 'Expected' twist.

Parirings: CuckG!p!Giselle x Femreader x G!p!Aespa

Warnings: Smut, Sex w Strangers, Cucking/Cuckholding, Exhibition, Voyeurism, Ciotus, Handjobs, Oral, Anal, prob a bunch more 🙏

Note: Cuckselle has been on my mind for so long, I need her in my life 💔🥀 I had to rewrite this a billion times bru omfg

Word Count: 2k

___________________________________________

You and your girlfriend had a strange relationship. When explaining it to those who couldn’t keep their ears to themselves, they’d all assume. They’d say you’re a cheater, or a bad girlfriend. They even have the audacity to say if they were in your girlfriends shoes, they’d leave you behind. Disgusting, really. Although it doesn’t bother you as much, it does make you think for a while. It’s not long till you're snapped out of that trance. It was your relationship. You could do whatever you wanted, especially with a girl like Giselle.

You're currently getting ready for a night out with her. She’d woke you up this morning to tell you of a party her ‘New Friends’ invited her to. You never met her friends before, surprised she even had any with the way she locks herself up with you. Sometimes you’d even almost applaud when she went out on her own. She was stuck to you, tighter than glue. But you loved her. Sure, you had an interesting way of showing it, but she’s not going anywhere soon, so why not take the advantage.

“Do we really have to be out so late? I have work tomorrow y’know” you scoffed while fixing the silver necklace she bought you months ago. It fits you perfectly, so she says. She stood there behind you, twirling her fingertips together. “I…. You don’t have to go.. I just.. if you want to” you could practically hear the fear in her words. She was so pathetic when it came to you. You hardly even spoke to her today, and she’s acting like this. “Oh I’ll go, just hope this isn’t a waste of time again” You turned around on your heel and smiled sarcastically at her. She gulped and nodded, nothing new. She was so easy, yet so hard to read. Was she afraid of you? Or afraid of losing you? Either way, it drove you mad, in such a good way. Absolutely loving the amount of control you had over her, you controlled her everyday daily life, even when you aren’t around.

She made sure she did everything to your liking, even if it meant going against herself. Because she loved it, from the perspective of an outsider they’d assume she’s was being abused or manipulated. They’d think she needed help or wasn’t in a happy place. But Giselle was in paradise. Most people she dated never understood her ‘desires’ or took it too far. To clear the air, Giselle’s a Cuck. It's this thing where she enjoys an unfaithful partner. This meaning she has a sexually unfaithful partner. To some eyes it’s cheating, is it really cheating if she tells you at 11 o’clock at night. “You can fuck her if you want” While sitting on her bed scrolling through both of your friends Instagram accounts for some reason. That statement caught you so off guard. But you didn’t question her, she didn’t look like she wanted to be questioned either. That night forward you have been, having sex with other people. She knew though, she even offered to watch as well. You didn’t understand at first, but having freedom like this was something you didn’t ask about.

Finally, finishing up your outfit, you take a look and a quick spin to check yourself out. Giselle stared at you for a while, her hand rubbing the package she had down below as she pulled out her phone. “They’re pulling up around now babe” she spoke, still staring at her screen. You smiled and turned to her, linking your arms together as you walked out of the house. Your jaw dropped at the sight of an all blacked out limo. ‘That’s them?” You stretched put the words in excitement. Giselle nodded at you. What seemed to be like a body guard or a butler came out of the drivers seat and held the door for you two. As soon as you entered, you felt your entire body shake from the loud bass of the music, along with Giselle’s friends who screamed for her.

“Hey you made it!’ one of them said above the loud music, reaching to shake Giselle’s hand. They turned their head to you and nodded. “Who’s this pretty lady?” They smiled at you then to your girlfriend. “That’s my girlfriend, y/n” she held your hand tightly, rubbing your knuckles with her thumb. You smiled at her friends. It was three of them, all pretty girls. They all introduced themselves to you one by one after. You settled in quite nicely. They were all welcoming, charming too. Something about them, though, it was off, not an uncomfortable feeling. It felt like they were all staring at you. You even caught one of them licking their lips while looking at your thighs. You weren’t at all uncomfortable with it. You were used to strangers eyeing you up all the time. What really catches your attention is that once Giselle got up to grab another drink, they all moved to your side of the limo.

You were sandwiched between the three girls. The older one with short hair caressed your thigh, dangerously moving up beneath your dress. The girl on your other side wasted no time in cupping one of your breasts. Since there were three, you expected to feel another hand on you, but instead, she got up and made her way towards Giselle, whispering something in the older girls ear before she left. She spoke to her as if to keep her away from the scene behind her back. The two girls messaging your body took the initiative and started to understand you. The older pulled your panties down, while the other pulled your dress off your shoulders. “Seems like you want this doll” The read head spoke into your ear. There was honestly no backing out now. You weren’t going to even if the chance occurred.

Karina swiftly unbuttoned her pants and pulled her semi hard cock out, swinging it around while looking at you with hungry hooded eyes. You gulped seeing how thick it was. Suddenly your hand moved, making it’s way to winter bulge. You instinctively took her cock out and stroked it, doing the same to the other girl next to you. That’s when Nings distraction wore off, Giselle turned and saw the scene before her. She just walked to the other side of the limo while sipping her alcohol. She wasn’t angry or anything like that, this was normal for you two. The girls seeing her reaction, they were a little surprised but that soon disappeared knowing the outcome that could have with you.

While you stroked the other two girls off, Ning made her way in front of you. Her cock in one hand and the other reaching for the top of your head. She pulled you down onto her cock, making you take her all the way down your throat. Giselle seemingly having her view blocked she scooted over just a bit, that’s when she met your eyes with hers. Her expression was cute, but during times like this you couldn’t care less about her. Not in an evil way, just, you were just enjoying yourself, and you knew she was more than glad to have helped.

Ning trusted into your mouth like you were a toy. There was no other way to describe you right now anyway. The two girls you were stroking started groping you. Playing and fondling your boobs. Rubbing your clothed and wet pussy through the fabric of your panties. That’s when Ning finally pulled out of your mouth. Karina and Winter both sat up, manhandling you to get on all fours on the couch. Giselle watched in awe, feeling her own erection approaching. She rubbed herself through her jeans, biting her lip at the sight. The other girls stripped you completely, tossing your clothes around like trash. Winter and Ning positioned themselves behind you, while Karina made her way to your face. She looked over at Giselle who was watching intensely, she smirked a bit seeing her reaction. “You let your girl get fucked like this all the time?” Karina spoke, Slapping your lips with her hard pink tip. Giselle nodded weakly as she pulled out her throbbing member, stroking it slowly with her mouth hung and her eyes wide, fixated on your body.

The group of girls all laughed amongst each other. “This bitch is braindead, honestly” Winter spoke up, Slapping your ass as she did. You whined at the connection, still trying to hold yourself up. Ning rubbed her hot tip through your folds, poking at your clit and sending shivers through your body. Giselle looked at you with such loving, watery eyes as she stroked herself. Seeing you happy and enjoying yourself meant so much to her. Winter giggled and grabbed a bottle of alcohol. She took a sip and shared some with the girl next to her. They both looked at each other with sinister grins on their faces. Karina tilted her head at them. “What?” she said with a smile, enjoying the way the two were acting. In seconds winter poured the alcoholic drink down your spine. As she did so Ning inserted herself into your soaked pussy.

She let out a low groan as she put her full length into you as the drink dripped from your body. Karina watched in awe, a slight smirk appeared in her face as she cupped your chin. Making you look up at her, “Open.” You stuck your tongue out for her. She smiled and slowly entered your warm wet mouth. Winter still focused in the drink leaned over and licked the juice off your back. Setting the bottle down behind her on the table and angled her tip to your tight hole. She watched as Ning slowly penetrated you from below, groaning at how tight you hugged her. She smiled, then spat on her hand and stroked herself off before pushing her tip inside. You moaned against Karina’s length, shutting your eye tightly due to the sensation.

Ning and Winter both held each side of your hips as they thrusted into you. Matching each other’s pace perfectly, creating an overwhelming new feeling. Giselle’s pants were at her knees by this time, watching in such awe. Her eyes glossy and her bottom lip red. You looked so pretty like this. It was almost too much for her, but who is she to tell you how to enjoy yourself? As much as she wanted to join in and have some of you, too. The car was filled with moans and slapping skin, all mixed with the loud bass of music. The smell of alcohol and sex were strong and heavy in the atmosphere, thick enough to see. Your eyes were teary, opening and closing your lids occasionally due to the feeling from behind and the roughness from the girl in front. “Fuck your soooo good” Karina spoke with her head hung back. One hand in the back of your head as her hips swayed back and forth.

Giselle was covered in her own semen, her hand sticky and her shirt soaked. Who knows how many times she’s came watching you, who cares either, your both having the time of your life right now. In her mind she’s just imagining fucking you that good too. It’s been so long since you two fucked one on one, sure she was okay with all of this but she did miss you, a lot. Last time you guys had sex she basically had to beg you, she blew her off so much her loser ass got even more turned on, so of course she kept asking till you finally gave in. In your words it was worst than mediocre, but to her it felt like your first time all over again. You were too disgusted to even pretend that it felt good, you were silent most the time. Soft whines and sighs where all you let out when it git interesting. Meanwhile she was a moaning mess, marking you while humping into you without rhythm.

Now here she is, solo stroking while watching you have the reaction she so wished you had with her. The way the girls toyed and marked your body the same she did, but getting a completely different reaction. Your moans were loud, but muffled by the older friends cock in your mouth. The Chinese girl playing with your clit as your wet silky folds rubbing her thick cock. The smaller girl of the three making you see starts with her large girth penetrating your ass. She even got bold and spanked you a few times while whispering dirty things to you and herself. They were everything Giselle needed, for you. She didn’t know if she wanted to be them or be just like them.

The way Ning toyed with your clit so well made you grind your ass back onto the two girls. Taking notice of this they laughed to each other. “What a whore.” Ning said to the girl next to her. She grinned, pulling her cock completely out then slamming it back in. The force pushed Karina deeper down your throat, causing you to choke. Karina let out a loud airy groan. “Fuck!” She held your head with both her hands now and started pounding into your mouth, her hips colliding with your face with force. You put one of your hands on her hip to balance yourself and give you a little comfort. “Fuck I’m gonna paint this bitches entire mouth.” She said staring at your struggle to take her. She then turned her head to Giselle, who was completely covered in sperm. “How’s that sound?” Giselle still in a trance from the scene in front of her nodded brainless. “Please.”

“You heard her” a large grin appeared on Karina’s face. The other two girls quickened their pace inside you, desperate to coat your insides. You and the girls moaned in symphony as your bodies rocked together. They all soon came at the same time inside of you. Karina pushed your head completely down her length, not caring if you could take it all or not. She shot hot loads down your throat. You swallowed it all due to the lack of air. Gripping her hip tightly as she let go inside you. Winter dumped what felt like a never ending stream of cum inside your ass. So much to the point it spilled out and smeared in her cock. Ning was so deep into your womb, you were sure if you weren’t taking pills your get pregnant. Even your own orgasm hit you hard. Your body shaking and trembling due to the release and the warm sensation filling your insides.

Giselle let out her final strings of cum on herself. From the looks of it she came about six times without properly asking. Even if you did ask, she wouldn’t know either. Her main focus was her beautiful girl painting a new picture for her. Just as everyone was coming down from their high. The car stopped, signaling they’ve arrived at their desired destination. “Your so coming every time we go out.” Karina said to Giselle, a hand on her shoulder as she fixes her hair.

___________________________________________

This was originally 5k but I shortened it bc it was mostly plot 🥀🙏

[withlovemark]

“FLYING KISS”

pairing: childhood best friend! lee jeno x nerd! reader | genre: rom-com | words: 23k

synopsis -> you and lee jeno go way back, as in diapers and all that. before he was known as the chill fuckboy, he was an all time nerd! just like you! tired of being a loser who can’t even get the guy you wanted, you badly needed tips and a makeover. who’s better to ask for help than your childhood best friend, who has proven that a nerd can be hot?

warnings -> guaranteed giddiness! pet name unlocked: bunny, two dumb idiots, jeno is a yearner!!!, slow burn? kinda but once it starts, it starts, mentions of: car crash, a deceased parent, too many side characters from other groups, +18, crude language, mentions of fuck-boys, parties, drinking, a fight between the boys, blood, a nasty cut, heavy on the smut! reader is a virgin, lots of fingering, oral (m+f), handjob, blowjob, mention of mutual masturbation, corruption kink, pop the cherry!, soft sex, exhibitionism, jeno is a dirty dirty boy with lots of dirty thoughts and a dirty mouth.

an -> the second installment of the loverboy series is yours! this one literally just flowed through me, i could not stop writing, squealing and giggling at this trope. i’m dreading leaving them behind. you do not need to read stupid cupid to understand this story but here are some important things to take note of: 1) jeno is the chill fuckboy, he does not like the whole hopping to one girl to another thing so he gets into a lot of meaningless situationships with girls he does not care about 2) jaemin is currently the only happily taken member of the dream fraternity, he calls his gf: angel. k, have fun reading, with love, c!

the library buzzed with the soft hum of university life filled with quiet chatter, the occasional laugh and the rustling of pages. there were small groups of friends in heated discussions, catching up on life or laughing over a joke. some were hunched over textbooks, deep in concentration, others were lost in their books, barely blinking, while a few had surrendered to sleep, heads resting on their arms. and, tucked away in the back, were the ones who thought they were subtle – furtive glances, sneaky touches, stolen kisses.

there was a place for everyone in the library and it was your favorite place in the entire world.

but right now, as you watch your long-time crush, third year business major, the soccer team’s mvp, jung sungchan, stick his tongue down a random girl’s throat, you can’t help but feel like your safe haven has been tainted.

the grip you had on your pencil tightens as your eyebrows furrowed at the scene that played out, jealousy taking over your features. out of all the places on campus, he had to choose your spot. you have half the mind to report to the librarian. you were already classified as the school’s nerd, why not add snitch to your dictionary?

“what’s that look on your face?,” your best friend’s voice pulled you back to earth, playful, as he plopped down on the seat next to you.

jeno has been fated to be your best friend way before you were even born. with your dad’s being the best of friends, it was written in the stars, whether you liked it or not.

but you liked it, and so did he.

if it wasn’t for jeno, you might have ended up a complete social outcast. thanks to his status and the fact that you were always seen together, people decided you were tolerably weird. you weren’t nose-picking weird or talking to yourself in the hallways weird, just…a little awkward.

and if it wasn’t for you, jeno probably wouldn't have made it into university to begin with. you tutored him in almost every class, every time he struggled with anything school related, he ran to you, from elementary school to university, you were practically his teacher.

they say university is supposed to be the place where you let go of your childhood self and finally grow up. yet here you are now, a third year student and you still haven't quite grown into the lady you were supposed to be. trends went over your head, fashion didn’t interest you and makeup was harder than your architect class. half your wardrobe was made up of high school leftovers, you were still sporting bangs that you had from middle school and you never really saw the point in “fixing yourself up.”

at least, one of you did — jeno somehow made his way into the dream fraternity and somehow earned the title the chill fuckboy. it was odd, seeing people start treating him differently. even odder when you started to see girl’s eyes follow him like he was some kind of lead in a main k-drama and then land on you with a confused gaze. like they couldn’t understand why he was friends with someone like you.

“nothing,” you say quickly, finally tearing your eyes away from sungchan and forcing your attention on the assignment in front of you.

jeno, not satisfied with your answer, followed your earlier gaze, a light chuckle slipping past his lips, “aww, does my little bunny wunny have a crush?,” he cooed, reaching over to pinch your cheek, his trademark eye smile on display.

bunny was the nickname he had given you when you both were eight years old. in some twisted doom, like you were always going to be life’s punching bag, all your baby teeth fell out at the same time, leaving only the two front teeth behind. these days, he throws in a ridiculous wunny at the end just to piss you off.

“shut up jeno,” you scowl, swatting his hand away and adjusting your glasses back into place.

he chuckles, unfazed, before pulling out his own assignments and settling in beside you. a comfortable silence draping over the two of you, easy and familiar.

but your mind was still reeling. you wanted, so badly, to be the girl who was kissing sungchan instead of the nerd he only acknowledged when he needed answers for a test. you wanted to hold his hand, to walk around campus with him, to be the one sitting in the back of the library.

you wanted to be the girl that people wanted to be.

your gaze drifts to your best friend. jeno hadn’t always been this effortlessly put-together, with his hair perfectly styled, clothes fitting him properly, and those annoying sculpted arms that somehow always had a girl clinging to them.

you’re reminded of a different version of him – the times when you had matching glasses, his head way too big for his body, the endless rotation of naruto and pokemon t-shirts he always had on and the way he would stutter every time a pretty girl would even look at his direction.

if he could grow into the handsome, confident man he is now, why couldn’t you?

and then, just like that, a lightbulb flickers on.

“...neno,” you call out to him, sweetly.

jeno eyes you with immediate suspicion, you only use that nickname when you want something from him, “what?,” he asks, an eyebrow raised.

“we’re best friends, right?,” you ask, innocently blinking up at him.

“is the sky blue???,” he shoots back, voice dripping with playful sarcasm. you ignore it, too caught up in the plan buzzing in your head.

“so, as my best friend, you’d do anything for me, right?,” you press, excitement coursing through.

he narrows his eyes, “that depends on what you’re about to ask from me,” he says, looking at you with a mixture of suspicion and mild horror.

“make me hot,” you say, dead serious.

jeno chokes on absolutely nothing, eyes going wide as the words hit him, “what?!.” he hisses, half-whisper, half-scream, as if you just confessed to a felony. a few heads turned your way and you can’t help but blush under the sudden attention.

“you’re so dramatic!,” you whisper, shrinking behind your books. all your previous confidence, going down the drain as you finally realized what you just asked him to do.

jeno charmingly waves, muttering his apologies until the curious stares faded and the library’s usual hush returned.

“y/n,” he said, suddenly serious, gaze locked on you, “what do you mean by ‘make you hot’?” his entire focus on you.

you sigh, heat crawling up your neck, “nevermind, jeno, it’s nothing,” you say, grabbing the nearest book, hoping to bury this conversation along with your pride.

before you could turn a page, jeno snatches it away from you, “hey, no secrets between us remember,” he said, gently but firmly.

you stared at the table, lips pressed into a thin line, weighing the embarrassment against the aching truth in your chest, “i just meant…help me be desirable, i’m tired of being a nerd, jeno. i just want someone to look at me and think i’m pretty,” you admit, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

“i think you’re pretty, bunny,” he says quietly.

you groaned, immediately burying your face in your hands. this was too embarrassing. you felt like you were fishing for compliments.

“ugh, you’re only saying that because you’re my best friend and our dads will literally kill you if you don’t,” you say, voice muffled by the table below you.

jeno chuckles lightly beside you, “i’m not just saying that.”

you sit back up slowly, looking him dead in the eye, “jeno, i’ve never been asked out, never held hands with someone, hell, i’ve never even kissed anyone,” you reason, head plopping back into your chair.

“—that’s not true!, you’ve kissed me,” he points out earning an eye roll from you.

“jeno we were 14 and i kissed you like how i would kiss my mom,” you say, “it doesn’t count,” you shut your eyes, silently begging the universe to erase this entire moment from existence.

but your words lingered in jeno’s head – the quiet desperation in your voice, the way your eyes had pleaded without meaning to and before he could even think twice, his mouth moved on its own.

“i’ll see what i can do,” he said. your eyes flew open, locking onto his with a sparkle that transferred over to his own.

“thank you, neno,” you grinned, ruffling his hair with a smirk, excitement bubbling through you.

he groaned in protest, batting your hands away but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

a second later, his phone flashes on his side. one glance at the screen and he was already gathering his things, “gotta go, lia texted,” he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

you nodded, smiling up at him, “have fun, don’t get pregnant,” you teased.

he chuckled, messing your hair up on his way out, “no promises,” he winked, making your face scrunch up in disgust. the image of your best friend having sex was not appealing at all.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

after spending a couple of hours buried in his current situationship’s legs, jeno finally made his way back to the dream house.

the conversation you had in the library constantly playing in his mind as he quickly barges into jaemin’s room, “dude-i oh…sorry!,” his eyes widen, apologizing as he redirects his stare at the ceiling, but doesn’t make an effort to leave.

jaemin scrambles to wrap the blanket around his girlfriend, who is currently face down, ass up with his dick still inside her, “dude!, get out!?,” he yells furiously, throwing a pillow at him.

“i need to ask you something,” jeno says, making jaemin groan, “can you ask me later?, im busy,” he grunts, his girlfriend still clenching tightly around him.

“oh…yeah, sorry…hi angel,” jeno mutters out, a playful smile on his lips before leaving and locking the door behind him, hearing an embarrassed, muffled, “hi jeno,” from jaemin’s girlfriend, on his way out.

“learn to lock the door!,” he laughed from the other side, the sound of skin slapping resuming as he made his way down the living room.

for the past few hours, your words had been playing on a loop in his head. he wasn’t sure where to start or how to go about helping you. not because he didn’t want to but because he’d never realized you needed that kind of help.

sure, he noticed that there were never any boys around, other than him, but he thought you preferred it that way. always scowling in disgust when a guy tries to get near you or even breathe the same air as you.

and besides the fact that he wanted to repay you for always helping him without asking for anything in return, he’d always thought you were pretty.

when you were six, with a scraped knee, and tear streaked cheeks after falling as you chased after his hamster who escaped - pretty.

when you were eight, missing all your teeth except the two in the front, food always ending up smeared all over your face - pretty.

when you were eleven, threatening all his bullies to stay away from him or you would call your dad - pretty.

when you were fourteen and you kissed him because you were curious why your parents were always kissing - so pretty.

when you were fifteen, drowning in a pink puffy dress that ate you up whole - ridiculous, but pretty.

when you were sixteen, at your mom’s funeral, crying on his shoulder, not allowing anyone else near you but him - hauntingly pretty.

when you were eighteen and you both had gotten your acceptance letters for university, excitedly jumping around together - pretty.

when you were twenty and crashed his car because you thought there was a dog on the road, only for it to be the shadow of the tree you crashed into - annoying, but still so damn pretty.

as your best friend, he wants you to see yourself the way he saw you.

if this was what it took to help you finally claim your confidence, then he’d do whatever it takes to make sure it worked. whether or not this was about impressing that boy you liked, he didn’t care. he just wanted to help you feel more sure of yourself.

an hour passed before jaemin finally joined him in the living room, immediately punching him in the arm, “learn to knock,” he huffs out before sitting next to his friend.

jeno chuckles, rubbing his arm, “i didn’t see anything, promise,” he turns to his friend, “you better not have or i’ll literally scoop your eyes out and feed it to you,” his friend grunts making him scrunch up in disgust.

“that’s disgusting,” jeno comments, the mental image making both of them squirm before bursting out into laughter.

“so what did you need?,” jaemin asks as soon as their laughter dies down.

“i actually need your girlfriend’s help,” he smiles sheepishly, piquing the other boy’s curiosity.

“with what?,” jaemin asks.

“with y/n,” jeno says before jaemin nods, getting up to get his girlfriend out of his room and into the living room. the rest of the boys knew who you were, of course, and as jeno had requested, they all looked out for you.

jaemin’s girlfriend listens intently at the plan jeno had - a makeover. he knew he needed a girl’s touch since he didn’t really know anything about the work that girls put into themselves to make them look ‘hot’.

he could argue he thought they just came that way. just like how you have always been pretty.

“well, im kind of done with all of that makeover and stuff,” she briefly smiles at her boyfriend, “but i do know the perfect girl,” shes says smiling, as jeno notes down the girls’ name, paying her a visit.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

two days later, jeno came prepared. plopping down in his usual seat in the library, right next to you, armed with a notepad that was opened to the page:

operation bunny’s glow-up

step 1: the makeover

step 2: closet cleanse and wardrobe upgrade

step 3: posture, confidence and flirting 101

step 4: bunny’s party reveal

you blinked at the notebook in front of you, registering the words written in jeno’s extremely neat handwriting, “what is this?”

“this,” he said, tapping the page, “is how i'm going to help you,” jeno explains.

there were too many steps and you’re suddenly so very aware how ridiculous this actually was, “can we just magically skip to step four where i’m already pretty and perfect and partying?,” you sigh, already feeling exhausted.

jeno almost wants to scold you for thinking you weren’t already pretty and perfect but remembered this is why he was doing this in the first place. to make sure you know you were pretty and perfect.

instead he says, “nope, this is a full process. you asked for my help and that’s what you’re getting, no backing out and definitely no easy way out.”

the sternness in his voice made you realize how serious he was about this. “you’re really gonna do all this for me, neno?,” you ask, a hint of gratitude shining in your eyes.

“of course i am, that’s what best friends are for,” he shrugs, ruffling your hair once again.

which is how you ended up here, seated in a salon chair with the girl you met just a couple minutes ago, your best friend leaving you all by your awkward self with no other than — giselle, third year cosmetology major and one of the school’s hottest girls.

her preppy personality was overwhelming, confidence radiating off her like perfume. you had no idea how to interact with her, no clue how any girl could be so aware of her beauty and completely own it the way she did.

it’s almost unfair how nice she was too. hot, popular girls were supposed to be mean, rude, intolerable. that’s how they’re portrayed in every teen movie you’ve seen. but giselle is kind, easygoing, talked to you like you weren't several social status’ below her in the pyramid you’ve made up.

“alright, so we’re gonna make sure your hair frames for your face perfectly and get rid of all your split ends,” she explains, hands already in motion as she fluffs your hair out, moving it around, parting it here and there to visualize what looks best on you.

once she figured it out, she let out a satisfied hum and got to work. the scissors glide gracefully, almost like they were an extension of her fingers and you can’t help but be mesmerized.

“so, how did you and jeno meet?,” she asks, casually starting the conversation as her hands continue to move through your hair.

“uhm, our parents are best friends,” you mumble, trying not to sound as stiff as you feel.

“ooh, that’s fun!,” she comments and you’re not entirely sure if she means it or if she’s just trying to be polite. either way, you appreciate her effort.

“and you’ve never had a crush on him?,” she adds, eyebrows raised. the shock on your face is evident, the very idea of having a crush on your best friend making your stomach twist.

“uhh no, i’ve never seen him that way,” you reply, a shudder slipping down your spine.

giselle laughs, clearly amused, “i see,” she hums, “your best friend is hot though, you know?,” you smile up at her, nodding, blush creeping up your cheeks.

of course you knew people considered jeno hot but you’re not entirely sure you agree with that statement.

he was the same boy who was crying to you because his hamster escaped, the same boy who got his braces stuck in your sweater, the same boy who ran away when you kissed him, the same boy who almost cried when your acceptance letter came in the mail first, his nowhere to be seen until a week later – your best friend was cute, the same way a puppy was cute.

“soo, who do you think is hot?,” she asks, playful curiosity dancing in her eyes.

is this what girl talk is?

“uhmm,” you shy away under her friendly gaze. you’ve never really had anyone to talk to about boys. with your mom passing away at an early age and all your girlfriends more interested in their anime crushes than real ones, this kind of conversation feels like uncharted territory.

“don’t worry, i'm really good at keeping secrets,” she says, urging you to go on. there’s something about her aura that you trust. and you knew that if jeno didn’t trust her, he wouldn’t have left you alone with her in the first place. so for the first time in your life, you indulge in girl talk.

“i think umm…i think sungchan is hot,” you mutter, shy, eyes immediately darting to the floor.

she gasps, an exaggerated, delighted sound, “i totally agree” she says giggling, “you have great taste,” she giggles. then, leaning in with excitement, she whispers, “i’m gonna make sure sungchan falls in love with you.”

you glance at her reflection in the mirror and despite yourself, a smile appears on your face, giddy and a little disbelieving.

“and…we’re done with your hair!,” she announces, your focus darting at your own reflection. your eyes widen slightly. she made your hair look like what you would see in the magazines – sleek, soft, effortlessly perfect.

the change in your appearance already reflecting back at you.

“this is just the beginning,” she whispers again, a friendly smile displayed on her lips.

she gently reclines the chair you were sitting on then tilts your chin up with practiced fingers, her eyes scanning your face with focused curiosity as she takes your glasses off, “hmm, okay,” she murmurs, turning your face side to side. you can’t help but feel awkward, gaze drifting everywhere else, avoiding eye contact.

“okay…i’m just gonna clean up your brows, and wax a little peach fuzz if that’s okay?,” she asks, voice light and reassuring. you nod, unsure what all that means but trusting her anyway.

giselle gets to work immediately, a new tool in her hand, and wax paper placed on your upper lip and in just twenty minutes, she steps back, satisfied.

your face looks softer…more defined. more you, somehow.

“you’re so pretty, y/n,” she says warmly, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “and we barely did anything.”

the compliment hits you harder than you expect. pretty wasn’t a word you would ever describe yourself yet here is one of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever seen calling you that. tears sting the corner of your eyes before you can blink them away.

“c’mon,” she says, voice still gentle but laced with excitement, “we’re not done, grab your stuff, we're going somewhere.”

after spending exactly thirty-two minutes in giselles car, singing along to the radio and laughing at her endless stream of chaotic stories, which you thought was something you’d never ever do, you were now at the mall. more specifically, standing in front of a waxing salon.

you shoot her a nervous glance, eyes wide with suspicion.

“i figured you’d be more comfortable with a stranger you’d never have to see again,” she says with a casual shrug, and suddenly it clicks why you’re here.

you knew what a waxing salon was, you just never thought you’d voluntarily stepped foot into one.

“this is my go-to, they get everything and it doesn’t hurt that bad,” she promises, reassuring, and you swore you look like a tomato with how much you’re blushing.

when giselle said they get everything, she meant they get everything.

even body parts that you didn’t think would have hair on them, body parts that no one else has seen but your own eyes. you almost can’t believe you were in this position right now, but giselle was right – a stranger was better for this. the only thing keeping you from bolting was the comforting knowledge that you’d never have to make eye contact with the person who was currently in between your legs again.

after an hour and several compromising positions later, you were finally done. your skin felt smoother than a baby’s, which was honestly kind of mind-blowing.

giselle was waiting for you at the reception, a bag in her hand, her eyes lighting up as soon as she saw you, “okay!, so i got you a little starter kit filled with makeup, skincare and all the other essentials,” she said, practically bouncing, “let’s go back to my place and i’ll teach you how to use it!”

her excitement was infectious and you couldn’t help but smile just as wide – her bubbly energy sinking into your bones in the best way.

making your way to giselle’s bedroom, you notice how different your rooms were. while yours was covered with posters and music records from all your favorite bands, her’s was covered in magazine clippings of what you assumed are the most popular fashion trends.

while your shelves were filled with books of all genres, she had an entire shelf dedicated to makeup and skincare products. another filled with several handbags and shoes. you weren’t even aware that girls had to have that many.

“sit, my canvas,” she says, lightly teasing, pointing to the chair in front of her vanity mirror as she pulls things out of the bag she gave you.

“we’re keeping it simple, just the basics: primer, foundation, brows, blush, and lipstick of course.”

you nod like you understood anything she was saying. she caught the panic in your eyes and smiled softer this time, “don’t worry,” she said, uncapping a small bottle of primer, “i got you.”

she talked you through every step. primer, foundation, blending like your life depended on it. she filled in one of your brows and handed you the pencil, urging you to try it out yourself. you tried to mimic her, hand shaky, tongue slightly poking out in concentration. this was definitely harder than she made it out to be.

“you’re a natural,” she says, satisfied with your work and you can feel your confidence growing with every second you spend with her. it’s as if she was sharing the amount of confidence she had with you.

by the end of it, you stared at yourself in the mirror and barely recognized your own reflection. not because the makeup was dramatic, it wasn’t, but because you looked like someone who belonged.

like someone who chose how she wanted to be seen.

“there…you look beautiful,” giselle murmurs behind you, chin resting lightly on your shoulder, “i have one last thing for you,” she says, reaching for another bag and you’re not sure how you could ever repay her for all of this.

as if she could read your thoughts, she quickly says, “don’t worry about it, jeno paid for it”

“glasses can be hot, but the ones you have now, completely hides your face so…,” she pulls out two things, “first, i got you these silver ones, they’re smaller but they’ll sit on your face better,” she hands it to you.

you take them, fingers brushing over the smooth metal. the glasses were cute, not your usual style, but when you slipped them on and looked in the mirror, you instantly understood what she meant. they frame your features instead of swallowing them whole.

giselle pats herself on the back, clearly happy with her decision, “and if you’re feeling a little braver,” she trails off, pulling out the last item, “-contact lenses, i asked jeno for your prescription so those should be good, they’re pretty easy to put on too but just in case, i’ll message you a youtube video with step by step instructions,” she smiles at you, soft and sincere.

and you can’t hold it in anymore. her kind actions pull at your heartstrings as the dam breaks – tears sliding down your cheeks before you can stop them.

“thank you, giselle,” you say in full gratitude, voice thick with emotion.

“of course,” she whispers, her eyes matching yours as she pulls you into a hug.

“-now stop crying, okay, makeup is expensive,” she says, laughing as she wipes at her own damp lashes. you both burst into giggles, the room light again despite the weight in your heart.

and then a knock makes its way to her bedroom door, echoing throughout her room.

giselle quickly fixes your tear stained cheeks, “alright, if you ever need anything else, just let me know okay?,” she says, and you nod, thankful for her kindness.

“let's see what your best friend has to say,” she squeals as she rushes over to the door, swinging it open and revealing jeno on the other side.

you hadn’t even thought about how jeno would react or how other people would take in your new appearance. you suddenly felt extremely nervous. he was the first person who was going to see you like this — you wanted him to react well.

jeno steps into the room, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, expression casual until he sees you and suddenly he feels like every air has been knocked out of his lungs.

you have always been pretty but right now you look absolutely, breathtakingly, beautiful.

he realizes he’s been staring in silence for too long when he notices you shift in your seat, the words, “what?,” slipping from your lips, almost harsh, trying to sound casual.

he blinks a few times, gulping “n-nothing y-you just look–,”

“different?,” you complete his sentence, afraid he will start teasing you. his stare becomes more uncomfortable with every second of silence that passes.

“-r-really p-pretty,” he finally manages to say. a smile takes over your features, his compliment completely blowing away the feelings of doubt that were starting to cloud.

jeno almost wants to beat himself up for stuttering so much.

“ahh, my work here is done,” giselle beams, looking in between you with a knowing look only she knew the meaning of. she clapped like she’s the proud host of a makeover show, as she should. jeno clears his throat, immediately reminded that you both had an audience.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

a soft knock echoed at your dorm room’s door, followed by jeno’s familiar voice. when you opened it, you caught the tiny flicker in his eyes. he was still trying to get used to your new appearance. its been two days since giselle’s successful makeover and he still hasn’t fully adjusted to this version of you.

but it was time to start step two of the operation - closet cleanse and wardrobe upgrade.

“wait,” you say, squinting at him, “you’re the one that’s gonna look at my clothes?,” you say, bewildered.

what did jeno know about ladies’ fashion?

“yeah, who else would it be?,” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“i don't know, i thought you would’ve brought giselle or another one of your lady friends,” you mumbled as he casually made himself at home on your bed.

he grinned, flopping back against your pillows like he owned the place, “nope, just me, don’t worry…i know what looks good,” he says, a playful smile on his lips as you eyed him suspiciously, “and how exactly are you going to rate my clothes?,” you ask.

he shrugs, “i’ll figure it out as we go, now come on, show me what you got,” he says, making himself comfortable in your sheets.

truthfully, his rating was completely unscientific and wildly biased. he was judging your clothes based on the question: if a girl walked by in this outfit, would i say hi?

and he knows damn well that if you ever found out you were being styled based on his imaginary dream girl, you’d kick him right where the sun won't shine. so he kept that little detail to himself.

“ugh, okay,” you groaned, giving in as you started taking your clothes out of your wardrobe and holding them up for him.

jeno leaned back, arms folded behind his head, watching you with an amused glint in his eyes. he was way too comfortable in your space but then again, he always had been.

one by one you pulled clothes from your closet – the shirts you’ve had since middle school, some with funky patterns, others just straight up horrendous. pants with weird patterns and those that didn’t help accentuate your figure at all.

for once, you were thankful for being one of the lucky ones who didn’t have a roommate. no one else needed to witness this humiliation.

jeno, however, was getting the full show. he has never realized how bad your wardrobe was until now. each new item of clothing you pulled out seemed to be worse than the last. and then came the final blow.

the naruto and pokemon shirts. his oversized naruto and pokemon shirts. jeno’s jaw slacks open, like the very memory of those shirts carried his own personal trauma, “why the hell do you have those?!,” he blurted, sitting up like he’d just seen a ghost.

“your dad gave them to me when you outgrew them, i just kept them,” you shrug.

“burn it.” his voice was flat, non-negotiable.

“what?! no!, these are comfortable and i like wearing them to sleep!,” you defend, clutching the shirts like they were priceless heirlooms. jeno stares at you wide eyed, expression teetering somewhere between disgust and betrayal “you cannot let anyone see you in those,” he says, deadly serious, making you chuckle.

“stop being so dramatic, i bet if you wore these now, people would think it’s cool,” you say and jeno shakes his head furiously, like he can't even fathom the idea of ever wearing it again, “no, absolutely not, i’ve buried that version of myself. deep.”

“well, i’m not burning them!,” you declare, shoving the shirts deep into your drawer, making sure he can’t pull it out behind your back.

by the end of it you had two piles. the “i guess that’s okay” pile and the “don’t ever wear that again, that’s going straight to donation,” pile which was unfortunately about three times bigger.

“jeno, i have like no clothes left!,” you say, plopping down on the bed next to him, limbs heavy with defeat.

your room looked like it was run through by a tornado, clothes scattered in every corner.

without a word, jeno pulls you into his arms, fingers brushing your hair out of your face with an ease that only comes from years of friendship, “we’re gonna go shopping,” he murmurs against your temple, “it’s gonna be fine.”

you let yourself melt into his side with a sigh, “okay, but like…in five minutes, i’m too tired to even attempt being a hot girl right now,” he chuckles softly and you feel the sound more than you hear it, sleep tugging you under.

jeno lets his eyes flutter shut too, a small contented smile on his lips.

five minutes, she said. he’d give her ten.

ten minutes turned into three hours and you woke up with your legs tangled with the boy beside you, “neno,” you groaned, shoving him off of you, “you’re so fucking heavy,” you whine.

jeno slowly wakes up, blinking the sleep away as he sluggishly rubbed at his eyes, “fuck, what time is it?,” he says before reaching out for his phone and answering his own question.

it was only 6PM, still plenty of time to run to the mall and get you your new upgraded outfits.

and exactly thirty minutes later, jeno was dragging you around all the stores with the latest fashion trends. you didn’t even know your best friend knew these stores existed, “how do you know so much about this?” you ask him, eyeing him suspiciously.

he shot you a grin over his shoulder, “well, i do listen to every girl i talk to, you know” he points out and you’re reminded of the fact that your sweet, nerdy best friend was also one of the university’s hot, sexy, fuck-boy.

you rolled your eyes, “gross.” you still can’t believe he even has that reputation. wanting to smack yourself every time you get reminded of it. how could your glasses-wearing, braces-clad, cried-over-a-hamster best friend turn into some kind of lady killer? it didn’t feel real.

“hey, it’s called research,” he teased, “gotta keep them interested somehow.”

he grabs a shopping cart, pulling at everything he thought looked nice on the mannequins, as well as a couple of pieces of clothing that fit his previous criteria.

you follow him around like a lost child. you don’t even remember the last time you had a shopping trip and bought something for yourself. you were usually only here to buy gifts or if you’re forced to buy new underwear.

after a while of aimlessly wandering as jeno does all the work, you find yourself in the dressing room, a shopping bag filled with clothes in your arm.

now here you were, staring at your reflection in pure disbelief. the first matching outfit jeno picked out was a tiny pink skirt and an even tinier pink crop top that left your midriff exposed, “uhhm, jeno i dont know about this one,” you say from the other side of the door, nervous.

“step out, let me see,” he says, patiently sitting outside of your dressing room stall, voice relaxed, clearly unbothered.

slowly, hesitantly, your fingers hover over the lock before unlocking the door, debating on whether or not you should let him see you in this ridiculous outfit that is showing way too much skin than you’re used to. before you could completely psych yourself out, you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself before finally swinging the door wide open, revealing the outfit to him.

jeno looked up and almost choked on air.

the outfit definitely hugged your curves in all the right places, made your skin glow and your legs look longer, and god, yes, he would definitely go up to you and say hi if he saw you at a party.

but then he thinks about all the other boy’s who would also go up to you and say hi and do god knows what else and the thought almost knocks him out.

“yeah, that doesn’t look comfortable, i don't like it,” he says a half lie. you quickly agree, relieved, as you go back into the dressing room to try on your next outfit.

jeno feels hot.

the air was too thick and he wanted to dunk his head in cold water to remind himself that this was you.

he shakes the thoughts away. these are thoughts he shouldn’t be thinking about, especially with his best friend. but it was no use. because the next time you stepped out of the dressing room you were wearing a white skirt a little longer than the last one and a light blue top that covered what needed to be covered but was just enough to exude that sexiness he liked in a girl and he swore he needed to get into a bathroom. now.

“this one’s a bit better, i could actually wear this,” you comment, innocently looking at him through those silver glasses that makes your eyes pop out, a small smile on display and all he could do was nod, “yeah…t-that one’s nice,” he says, disguising his stutter under a fake cough.

you smiled, pleased with his answer, and he felt his stomach flip.

he was in so much trouble.

this torture went on for a good fifteen more outfits, tiny side comments coming from him while his sanity continues to slip just a little more. his pants feel more restricted every time you walk out dressed in the cutest outfits that looked like they were made for you.

the worst ones were the ones you liked. the ones that made your eyes twinkle in the mirror and made you smile like you were finally starting to see yourself the way he saw you – absolutely beautiful.

there’s a million f words running through his head.

why the fuck did he think this was a good idea? why the fuckity fuck didn’t he just ask giselle to add this to her makeover process? why the fuckity fuck fuck did he throw all those tiny tops and short skirts into your basket? why the flying fuckity fuck fuck fuck shit fuck are you so fucking pretty? and more importantly – what the actual fuck are you, his best friend, doing to him?

after a long three hours of internal screaming – it was finally over.

you emerged from the mall looking like you’d just won a game show, all smiles and sunshine, bubbling with excitement, happy with the outfits your best friend picked out for you while jeno trudged behind you, hauling ten full shopping bags, half amused, half in pain.

he drove in near silence as you yapped on and on about your makeover with giselle, every detail you hadn’t had the chance to spill yet now tumbling out all at once.

in the middle of your yapping session, you noticed the boy wasn’t as active as he usually was, no silly side comments, no teasing remarks.

“neno..,” you sweetly called out to him and jeno nearly swerved.

god, the things that nickname did to him.

“you okay?,” you asked, eyes flicking over to him.

“yeah bunny, just tired,” he said with a small smile, trying to play it cool.

“that was a lot of shopping for a guy, y’know?” he glanced at you quickly, then back to the road, “keep going, tell me more about your day with giselle,” he says.

you eyed him for a second longer, as if trying to read him, then picked up right where you left off.

he dropped you off and made sure you were safely in your room. before he could leave you surprised him by reaching out and pulling him into a hug. with your arm tight around his waist, face pressed against his chest, you let out a soft sigh, “thank you, neno, sorry for taking up so much of your time.”

jeno chuckles, gently smoothing your hair down with one hand, hoping you don’t realize how fast his heart was beating, “you can never take too much of my time, bunny, you know that” he says, reassuring you.

you look up at him, with that sweet, grateful smile that’s currently driving him crazy, “you’re the best best friend in the entire world,” you say, before leaning up and pressing a sweet, innocent kiss to his cheek.

jeno should’ve been used to it.

you’ve been kissing his cheek ever since you were five years old and playing in the mud together. he argues today just wasn’t his day.

maybe it was the outfit? maybe it was the soft curve of your smile? or maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t had sex in so long (two days) it was affecting his logic?

whatever it was, that little peck nearly sent him spiraling.

“go and rest,” you said, pushing him towards your door and out of your dorm room, “thanks for shopping with me,” you ended the night with a lopsided grin before shutting your door as he finally made his way out.

he didn’t go home right away. instead he found himself at lia’s place, hands roaming and mind elsewhere, trying to exorcise whatever the hell was clawing at him from the inside out.

he kissed her like he meant it, touched her like he was desperate – because he was. so, so desperate for release. he fucked the shit out of her, releasing all his sexual urges as he guiltily pictured you in those tight, revealing outfits.

pictured you smiling up at him having absolutely no idea the effect you left behind. pictured your sweet voice calling him that nickname you gave him when you were fourteen before you stole his first kiss.

and when he finally finished, breathless and sweaty, staring up at the ceiling of a room that wasn’t his, next to a girl he barely knew, all could think about was: what the actual fuck is wrong with me?

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

the easy part of this transformation was over — the shopping spree, the haircut, the subtle change of your appearance had all been external.

you could already feel the power your new look gave you. for the first time in your life, you realized that pretty privilege wasn’t just some exaggerated social theory. it was real. you felt it in the smallest gestures.

on your way to the library, retracing steps you’ve taken hundreds of times before, everything felt a little different. the way people intently held the door open for you, even if you were still several steps away. the way they’d immediately made space for you in the elevator. and the way someone had already rushed to help you grab a book from the top shelf – you used to have to drag the ladder with you just to get it before.

however, just because life became a tad bit easier, doesn’t mean you felt comfortable.

what had once been comfort in invisibility was now replaced with the pressure of being seen. you weren’t used to the lingering glances or the compliments or the catcalls — it made your skin crawl, making you want to hide under the table until everyone leaves.

when jeno finally walked into the library, his eyes landed on you immediately. you wore a soft white top with jeans that finally hugged your frame and a light blue cardigan around your shoulders, collarbones out for display. it was one of the outfits you bought last night.

the guilt on his shoulders felt heavier as he was reminded of what he did — what he thought of.

forcefully shaking the thoughts away, he quietly sits right next to you. his gaze drifts to your legs anxiously bouncing under the table. a sign that something was clearly bothering you. gently, he placed a hand on your knee. you flinched slightly, then looked up at him, your expression distant – like you just realized he was there.

“bunny, what’s wrong?,” he asks, voice low and tender, threaded with concern.

“they’re all staring, jeno,” you whispered, almost like you didn’t want the words to exist.

he looks around the room, noticing the way everyone was too deep into their own worlds and while he didn’t see anyone obviously gawking, he knew it didn’t matter. it wasn’t about them. it was about what you were feeling inside.

“no one’s staring, bunny,” he murmured, voice delicate, like handling glass.

he knew better than to dismiss it. he recalls what it was like when he stepped out without the comfort of his thick-rimmed glasses and oversized t-shirts for the first time. remembers the way his heart was pounding in his chest, afraid of the judgments he might receive. he didn’t need to guess what you were feeling. he’s sure you were battling the same internal conflict right now. but just like how he got through it, he knows you will too. he’ll make sure of it.

you shut your eyes, taking a deep breath, “sorry,” you whispered, exhaling like the breath had been stuck in your chest all day, “im just- being paranoid, i’m not used to people noticing me,” you say softly.

“that’s okay,” jeno said, a warm smile blooming on his face as his hand moved to your back, rubbing slow, soothing circles, “that’s our lesson for today.”

jeno gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he set his bag down beside you, “okay bunny, first thing’s first is it’s all about your mindset,” he taps his head, pointing to his brain and you can’t help but giggle at the silly antics.

“im serious,” he insisted, lips twitching into a smirk, “if someone stares, don't spiral and think ‘they’re judging me.’ instead think ‘i look good, that’s why they’re staring,’” he says.

your eyes pop out of your head, he says it like it was so easy, “doesn’t that sound a little too egotistical?,” you said, nose wrinkling.

“not egotistical, just confident,” he counters, “there’s a difference.”

you gave him a skeptical look but he was already sitting up straighter, leaving no room for arguments.

“next is posture, stop hiding behind your books and sit straight, shoulders back, chin up,” he demonstrates.

you copied his posture, finding his seriousness amusing as you rolled your shoulders back, “like this?,”

“yeah,” he nodded, approving, “you already look more confident”

you laughed quietly, already feeling silly, “i feel like i’m pretending to be someone i’m not,” you point out.

“well, confidence is pretending, at first anyway,” he replied, shrugging, “eventually you start owning up to it, it starts becoming comfortable.”

you studied your best friend for a minute or two. there was a time where he would hide behind his books as well, would even hide behind you. you realized now that his change didn’t just come out of nowhere – it wasn’t just a random growth spurt. it was something he’d worked on, something that took time and practice, just like you were doing now. you wondered how he ever managed to do this alone.

“and the most important thing to know, bunny,” he adds, voice gentler now, “you’re allowed to take up space, don’t ever apologize for being seen.”

you carried his words with you, tucking them somewhere deep, somewhere that had always longed to hear them.

you sat there in silence for a beat until jeno shifted beside you, nudging your arm lightly, “okay,” he said, eyes glinting with a mischievous spark, “time for your first assignment.”

you turned to him, instantly suspicious, “assignment?,”

he nodded, already scanning the room, “see that guy by the window,” he points to possibly the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen reading a worn copy of the hunger games: catching fire. you recognize him. you’re pretty sure he was in your elective art class.

“you’re going to flirt with him,” jeno smirks and your eyes almost bulge out of your head.

“you’re joking! that’s hyunjin,” you whisper, head whipping toward jeno.

“so?,”

“so, he’s…he’s too cool and i don't even know how to flirt!,” you whisper-shouted, hands flailing helplessly at your sides.

he chuckles, “you were the same girl who threatened to beat up my bullies when we were 11, you’re telling me you’re afraid of a boy now?,” his smile is playful, lightly provoking you. and when you don’t reply, he knew you knew that he was right, “just compliment him, smile, say he has nice hands or something.”

your mouth fell open, staring at him in horror, “that’s so dumb, jeno. what if he thinks i'm hitting on him?”

“...you are hitting on him,” he said slowly, like it was obvious.

you groaned, dragging your hands over your face, “i’m not comfortable with this.”

“that’s the point. confidence doesn’t grow in comfort zones,” jeno says and you wonder when he’s gotten so wise. usually you were the one who had these motivational words ready for him.

staring down at your lap, nerves buzzing like static in your fingertips, you take a moment to think it through. you glanced back at your best friend, he was already looking at you proudly – like he believed in you more than you believe in yourself.

you let out a breathy laugh, the absurdity the situation weighing on your chest, “if this ends in disaster–,”

“it wont,” he cuts you off and you knew there was no way to back out of this situation. besides you were the one who asked him to help you. slowly, you got up from your chair, taking a deep breath and making your way towards the boy.

“hi, hyunjin,” you start off quiet, timid, slightly afraid.

hyunjin darts his eyes away from his book, looking up at you, “hey” he replies. when you don’t say anything else right away, he shifted in his seat, “did you need anything?,” he says, an awkward smile on his lips.

you swallowed hard, nerves tangling in your throat, “i uhm…just wanted to tell you—you have nice hands!,” you say, a little too cheerful for your liking. you were internally screaming. curse jeno for putting that in your head. you actually can’t believe you used it.

he blinked. then a soft laugh escaped him, not mocking, but surprised, amused. “oh? uhm, thanks?,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes, “i like what you’ve done with your hair,” he compliments, leaving you shocked.

“what?”

he points vaguely in your direction, “you got a haircut, right? it look’s nice.”

you blinked, stunned into silence for a second too long. “thank you,” you finally breathed, cheeks warming instantly.

you didn’t realize he noticed you before. let alone remember you enough to notice a change.

“you’re welcome,” he smiles and you awkwardly wave goodbye.

you made your back to jeno, so certain that you looked like a tomato. dropping into the seat beside him, burying your face in your hands, “that was so embarrassing,” you mumbled through your fingers.

jeno tried to hide his laughter behind his fingers, afraid to be called out by the librarian for being too loud, “you actually told him he had nice hands,” he wheezed.

“shut up!,” you groaned, “that was your fault!,” you swat at his arm, “my brain just – stopped working.”

jeno calms himself down, sitting up straighter now, the teasing falling away just a little, “yeah, but you did it…and he talked to you, noticed your hair, said he liked it.”

the memory of hyunjin’s compliment flickers in the back of your mind and a small swell of pride flutters in your chest, “he did, didn’t he…,” a shy smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

jeno nods, eyes full of tenderness, “see? you’ve never been invisible,” he points out.

the words settle over you like a warm blanket and for a moment you just sit with them, the weight of the realization sinking in.

“i still felt like i was going to pass out though,” you admitted, a thin, embarrassed smile on display.

“that’s okay, confidence is scary,“ jeno said simply, “but the more you practice, the easier it’ll be,” he sends you a warm smile, never making you feel like these feelings were wrong.

without thinking, you leaned into his shoulder, seeking the steady comfort he always gave you, “thanks, neno,” you breathe out.

he freezes for a second, just for a second, before bumping his head lightly against yours, “anytime.”

then he pulls back just enough to grin mischievously, “now, go back to hyunjin and say something a little less awkward.”

“wait? right now?!,” you whip your head toward him, horrified once again.

“yes, right now…go,” he’s already pushing you up and out of your seat, laughing under his breath as he watches you stumble forward, nerves buzzing anew.

trying to ignore the way your heart pounds against your ribs, you walk back up to hyunjin, this time with a bit more confidence, capturing his attention once more.

“actually i…i wanted to say that’s a really good book,” you nod toward the hunger games book in his hand and hyunjin lights up instantly.

“right?, i’m on my third re-read,” he says excitedly.

with a casual gesture, he pulls out the chair next to him inviting you to sit as you talked about the masterpiece that is suzanne collins and the hunger games trilogy. the conversation went on for a good twenty minutes, it was easy and light and fun, a little playful sometimes. you lose yourself in the exchange, forgetting the nerves that once clawed at your chest.

when hyunjin bid his goodbye, you practically floated back to your seat. your heart was pounding in your ears but in the best way possible. you can’t believe that just happened. you usually only talk to people in class, if you’re required to.

jeno watched you. watched that twinkle in your eye appear, your smile beaming as the conversation continues and it’s the first time throughout this whole process that he sees the change.

you were slowly bringing back the girl he knew. the girl you lost along the way. the girl he always knew was still there, just waiting for a reason to shine.

when you returned to him, he can’t help but tease you just a little bit, “look who’s suddenly ms. social butterfly,” he grins, earning an eye roll from you as you tried to wipe the giddy smile off your face, “shut up”

“no seriously,” he says, leaning forward now, resting his elbows on the table, “twenty full minutes, i was about to send a search party,” he smirks.

“always so dramatic,” you huff but your smile betrays you, “i didn’t think it’d actually go that well,” you admit, cheeks still pink.

“you flirted, you sat down, talked about hunger games lore like it was natural…if i didn't know you, i’d think you do this every day,” he smirks.

you narrow your eyes, “are you mocking me or hyping me up?,” you say playfully.

“why not both?,” he shrugs, clearly enjoying himself. his tone softens just enough to say, “but seriously bunny, im proud of you,” and you smile at him like he just handed you the stars in the sky.

“thanks…i feel kinda…good.”

“confidence will do that to you,” jeno says, nudging your foot under the table.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

the next few days turn into a full crash course in flirting 101 with lee jeno.

one afternoon, he dares you to make eye contact with the cute guy handing out flyers in campus, not just a glance, real eye contact. it sounds simple but it makes your palms sweat. you were able to managed a flirty smile too and when the boy stammers mid-sentence, jeno practically fist-pumps the air behind you.

another day, he made you strike up a casual conversation with the barista at the cafe. told you to be a little playful, a little flirty. you passed with flying colors, only stumbling over a few words, the barista writing his number on your cup as well as giving you an extra cookie “on the house.” you nearly skip back to jeno, face lit up like christmas morning.

each small win builds on the last, stacking slowly, steadily until the idea of putting yourself out there and owning up to your confidence doesn’t seem so scary anymore.

through it all, jeno watches with the same steady pride adoring the fact that you were learning how to take up space and shine again.

but then comes the moment that even he isn’t prepared for.

it’s a warm afternoon, golden light slanting through the library windows, when jeno leans over the table, a mischievous glint in his eye, “alright, new assignment.”

you smirk at him, accepting his challenge, “what now?”

he tips his chin toward the entrance where sungchan – tall, charming, the boy you’ve had a quite, hopeless crush on for years – walks in, balancing a coffee and his bag slung casually over one shoulder.

the air is knocked out of your lungs and you suddenly feel dizzy, hoping jeno doesn’t follow through whatever he had in mind.

“sungchan,” jeno says, making your heart skip a bit. he grins, already knowing the effect he has on you, “go invite him to the dream frat party this weekend.”

you stare at him like he’s grown two heads, “are you insane?!, that’s sungchan!”

“which makes this the perfect challenge,” he teases.

you open your mouth to protest but jeno cuts you off with a nudge on your arm, “c’mon show me you’ve learned something,” he mocks playfully.

you groan dramatically but your feet somehow move anyway, heart pounding so loudly you’re sure jeno can hear it from where he’s sitting. you were determined to show jeno (and yourself) that you have completely embraced the confidence.

you gather every shred of courage you have and cross the room toward the boy who inspired this whole glow-up.

sungchan looks up just as you approach, his smile lighting up the whole room. you send him a smile – a little flirty, a little too sweet.

“hey,” sungchan says, voice warm, “you’re in my psych class, right? you always ace every test”

you blink, a little thrown by the fact the he paid attention to you, “oh yeah, that’s me,” you say with a soft, bashful laugh, earning a chuckle from the boy in front of you.

he leans against the shelves a little, eyes raking over you in a way that makes your stomach twist. it’s not the uncomfortable kind of stare you’ve been learning to dodge lately. it’s something softer, curious, warm. like he’s seeing you for the first time.

“you look different today,” he says, tilting his head, studying you, “—in a good way.”

you feel the heat rush to your cheeks but you force yourself to stay steady, remembering everything jeno has taught you.

“thanks,” you manage, giving him a more playful, more bold smile, “maybe you just weren’t paying enough attention before.”

this surprises him, eyebrows shooting up before a slow, impressed grin stretches across his face.

“maybe i wasn’t,” he admits, the easy charm in his voice sending your heart into a full sprint.

for a second, neither of you moves. the space between you humming with quiet tension – intoxicating and terrifying all at once.

you clear your throat lightly, breaking the spell, “come to the dream frat party this weekend,” you say it like it wasn’t an invitation. wasn’t a question. didn’t give him any room to deny.

sungchan’s grin turns teasing, a spark lighting in his eyes, “am i coming as your date or…?,” he leans toward you, trailing off, leaving the question open, playful.

you bite back a laugh, finding just enough courage to meet his gaze head on, “i guess you’ll have to come to find out.”

he stares at you for a heartbeat longer. you’ve definitely piqued his curiosity. and then he laughs, easy and alluring, “okay beautiful, you’ve convinced me. i’ll be there,” he whispers for only you to hear before sending you a wink and walking away.

back at the table, jeno watches. something inside him shifts. it’s subtle, a small, tight pull low in his chest but it settles in bitterly.

he pushes it away, refusing to acknowledge it because this wasn’t supposed to matter. he wasn’t supposed to care about anything but seeing you happy.

you make your way back to him, beaming, “he said yes!,” you practically squeal, dropping into your chair like your knees might give out at any second.

jeno chuckles, reaching out to ruffle your hair, a familiar, easy gesture that suddenly feels heavier than it should.

“of course he did, you’re impossible to say no to,” he tries to tease, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and you’re too giddy to notice any of it. you bat his hand away, cheeks flushed and full of life.

jeno is forced to swallow past the uncomfortable lump rising in his throat.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

tonight is the dream fraternity’s party.

the night where you finally put everything you’ve learned, everything you’ve worked for, to the test. this was it. the final step in your glow up and you felt that electric sense of anticipation crackling just beneath your skin.

you were done waiting. done watching from the sidelines.

you were ready to let loose, to fully step into this new version of yourself.

you stepped into the house, the air thick with excitement. a tight white dress clings to your body, a bold choice you would have second-guessed before. you ditched your glasses for the night, switching it with the contact lenses giselle gave you — embracing the braveness.

this time, when you notice the stares, the double takes, the whispered comments, you don’t shrink back. you don’t flinch. you let them wash over you, feeding the fire inside you.

all those lessons with jeno clearly worked. that change in mindset was all you needed. the attention makes you glow. makes you feel powerful.

looking around the room, you searched for your best friend before finally spotting him in the corner at the back, near the kitchen.

you send him a tiny wave, he sends one back, excitement bubbling through you but before you could make your way towards him, a hand on your arm stops you.

“y/n! you look so pretty oh my god!,” giselle screeches over the loud music, a smile beaming on her face as she pulls you in for a tight hug. she was clearly already intoxicated, her balance a little wobbly but her energy still infectious.

“c’mon,” she says, already dragging you around the room with her, “you have to meet my friends!”

you happily followed her around, giggles escaping your lips, nervousness falling away with every step.

before you know it you were three shots in, dancing with the girls – giselle, somi, and angel, who you already knew before as jaemin’s girlfriend.

the music was loud, your laughters were louder.

and for the first time, you aren’t overthinking a single thing.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

when jeno saw you walk into the front door, it was like time had slowed down, like a thousand cherry blossom petals had burst into the air around you, everyone else blurring into a side character of your story.

you have always been pretty. always been beautiful. but tonight, you were absolutely radiant.

and it wasn’t even the dress, though he can’t deny how much he loved the way white clung to you, soft and luminous.

it was the way you walked around the room with your head held high. the way you glowed with every step, not shying away under anyone’s gaze. the way your smile beamed.

you weren’t hiding anymore.

you have finally stepped into your own skin, finally brought back the girl he knew.

in that moment, it wasn’t just the girl standing in front of him that he saw. it was every version of you that was always beautiful – the girl that was the first one out of the house, chasing after his hamster. the girl that didn’t care if she only had two teeth left, she would still eat what she wanted. the girl who was fighting bullies three times her size just to protect him. the girl who was brave enough to kiss him first. the girl who learned to pick up the pieces.

when you waved at him, he felt like he was on cloud nine. it felt like he had stepped into his shoes all those years ago – a boy hopelessly in awe of the only person he ever wanted to see him.

and when you started walking towards him, it was like his lungs could no longer function. you stole every breath he had.

but before you could give it back to him, giselle pulls you away, spinning you into the chaos of the party, leaving jeno standing there, fighting the urge to follow.

“was that, y/n?,” jaemin says, popping out from nowhere, almost giving him a heart attack as he clutches his chest.

he punches the boy in his arm before confirming that it was in fact, you. jaemin looks at him with a knowing glance. he recognizes the familiar twinkle in jeno’s eye.

“wow,” jisung comments from his other side, making him pause.

when did all his friends show up?

“she looks really hot,” jisung adds, eyes following your figure across the room.

a devilish grin appeared on jeno’s lips and in one quick motion, he had jisung under his arm, ruffling his hair, “no, no, no…not the hair hyunggg!,” he struggled from the older boy’s grip before jeno finally released him.

“point taken, won’t say anything about her ever again,” jisung pouts, fixing his hair back into place.

“i don’t know what you mean,” jeno smiles playfully, “i just wanted to play with you.”

chenle chuckles from nearby, “oh definitely, it’s totally not because you’re possessive and way too protective of y/n,” he points out.

“i am not possessive,” jeno argues, his voice defensive, “protective, sure, but she’s my best friend guys, our parents will kill me if something bad happens to her,” he says.

“she’s also a grown woman,” renjun points out, “you can’t keep pushing away every guy who thinks she’s hot, you know?”

“im not pushing away every guy!…just you guys,” jeno protests. he would never let any of his friends touch you, knowing what he knows.

there’s a pause as the group stares at him, “mhm, cause her really tall, really muscular, really intimidating, doesn’t smile at anyone, guy best friend being by her side almost all the time isn’t pushing away any boys,” haechan adds, teasing.

“it’s not my fault those boys don’t have the balls to ask her out,” jeno mutters, looking at mark for some support, hoping that he’d somehow take his side and tell the others that they were being ridiculous.

mark shrugs in a don’t look at me kind of way and jeno can’t help but groan in defeat.

“well, that boy definitely has the balls,” jaemin nods towards the dance floor as jeno follows his line of vision, his eyes immediately on your figure once again.

you're still with the girls but this time, sungchan and a few other guys from the riize fraternity have surrounded you, laughing and chatting with you.

“shouldn’t you get your girlfriend, jaemin?,” mark asks casually, “i know that wonbin guy has a thing for her,”

jaemin just laughs, completely unbothered, “nah, he doesn't stand a chance,” he says, sipping from his drink as the boy’s laugh.

but jeno knew that sungchan definitely had a chance with you. nothing is funny.

sungchan leans in close, whispers something in your ear and you were laughing. the laugh he thought was only reserved for him. he feels his fists clench up on his sides.

“you gonna push him away, jeno?,” haechan teases by his ear, a smirk playing on his lips, earning him a punch right on the stomach.

“shut up,” he says, haechan clutching over, his laughter mixing with his pain. he totally deserved that.

“c‘mon jisung, let’s find your girl for the night,” haechan manages to say in between choked breaths, before he dragged jisung and mark out of the room, resuming their fuckboy101 classes.

jeno watches as sungchan and you continue to talk, his gaze never wavering from the two of you. every inch of him wants to march over there and pull you away but he doesn’t. instead, he stays rooted in place, his eyes burning holes in the back of your head, feeling his pulse quicken in ways he can’t explain.

lia, his current situationship, walks up to him.

“okayy, that’s our cue,” chenle whispers before all the boys dispersed leaving jeno alone.

he doesn’t even greet her, doesn’t make an effort to say hi, eyes still glued on your figure.

“hi handsome,” lia drags her hands up his shoulders, settling on the back of his neck, her lips finding the side of his jaw.

it all happened so quickly.

one second you were still with the girls, the next sungchan dragged you to the side, his lips on yours. jeno’s jaw clenches. his heart dropping.

he needed to stop looking. he needed a distraction.

he finally acknowledges the girl clung to his neck. she reeks of alcohol and vape smoke. jeno turns to kiss her anyway.

he let’s lia drag him up the stairs, taking one last look at you. he let’s her lead him into his bedroom. let’s her strip off his clothes.

he knew you were going to be okay, knew you could handle your alcohol after many beer nights with him and he definitely knew that you were too smart to get yourself into any real trouble.

he can’t ruin this night for you.

“fuck me like you did last time,” lia whispers in his ear, trailing kisses down his neck, “fuck me like you mean it,” her hand travels down, wrapping around his already hard cock and jeno did.

he fucked her like she was all he needed. abused her hole, used her to release all his sexual tension, trying to push away the image of you from his mind.

but he found that every time you appeared, the better it felt and soon he was clenching, body shaking, his orgasm taking over as he came…with your name spilling from his lips.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

bunny: come over please it’s an emergency.

jeno was banging on your door in under eight minutes of that text. which was absolutely ridiculous considering the fraternity house was a twenty minute walk away from your building. a million thoughts were racing in his head.

what happened after he left you at the party that constitutes this emergency text? were you hurt?

you swung the door open, perfectly intact. no tears, no bruises, just you – in shorts and one of his your oversized naruto t-shirt, blinking at him like he was the one being ridiculous.

side note: it’s insane how you manage to make that shirt look sexy.

he exhaled hard, one hand bracing on the doorframe as he caught his breath.

“did you run here?,” you ask, stunned, noticing the sweat dripping down the side of his face.

“you said it was an emergency,” he shot back, chest still heaving.

you offered a sheepish smile, “sorry, come in,” before walking into your room. jeno followed, shutting the door with a soft click.

“what happened?” he asked, eyes scanning you again, just to be sure, as he sat on the edge of your bed watching you pace back and forth.

“sungchan kissed me,” you tell him.

he blinked, processing, he knew that. he saw you. the reminder leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. he pushes it away, playing the best friend card once more.

“that’s good? right?,” he says cautiously, cursing the fact that he was your best friend right now and had to listen to you talk about another guy, “that’s what you wanted?”

“yeah but,” you swallowed, embarrassment already creeping up your neck, “but i didn’t know what to do!”

“what do you mean?,” he asks dumbfounded, “you just…kiss him back.”

“it’s not that simple, you weren’t there – i panicked! i-i froze! i was too into my head and then i just – i ran,” you ramble, cringing as you relived what happened last night.

a snort escapes jeno before he could stop it.

you narrowed your eyes, “don’t laugh!, it was so humiliating, i can’t believe i ran away like a literal child!,” you groan in your hands.

he tried to control his expression but the corner of his mouths betrayed him, eyes twinkling with amusement, “y/n, it’s not a big deal, you were nervous,” he reassures, “just tell him you were drunk and then try again, it's not the end of the world,” he says it so easily – like you didn’t just go through the worst moment of your life. and that’s saying a lot considering you had a dead mom.

“that’s the problem, i don’t know what i'm doing, i always thought when it happened i’d just know but i didn’t,” you whine in frustration, pulling at your hair.

he must be crazy to think you’d get a different result if you went up to sungchan now and kissed him. you’re almost sure the same thing would happen.

“you’ll be fine next time, you’ll be prepared for it,” he says. the thought of there being a next time makes you panic.

“will i?,” you cut in, “what if i freeze again?,”

“you won’t”

“you don’t know that.”

he opened his mouth to argue, but you beat him to it.

“can you teach me?,” you said, voice quiet.

jeno stills, looking at you with wide eyes like he almost couldn’t believe what you just said – “what?”

“teach me,” you sat next to him, eyes locked on his, “add a step five, teach me how to kiss, teach me how to–” you couldn’t bring yourself to say the other things, the dirtier things you wanted to learn, “–how to do other things,” you mumble.

his jaw tensed. he can’t believe what it is you’re truly asking from him. teaching you how to kiss was already absurd but teaching you how to kiss for another man? it makes him want to throw up.

“bunny –no. i don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“why not?,” your head turns like a genuinely curious puppy.

“because best friends don’t–,” he faltered, “we don’t cross that line.”

“but it’s not like that,” you looked up at him, voice softening, “it’s just…practice.”

he didn’t move. didn’t blink. he can’t fathom the fact that he was actually starting to entertain the idea.

“it’s for educational purposes…just another step in the glow up,” you added, looking at him with those innocent eyes that makes him want to give you the moon, if you asked for it.

his throat worked as he swallowed, holding on to the last bit of restraint he had, “we can’t,” but it came out too quiet, too unsure, his resolve breaking with every second.

“neno,” you whispered, eyes locked on his. it’s not fair and you know it but you’ve already convinced yourself that this is necessary. that you needed to be taught.

“please…you’re the only one i feel comfortable with, just so i could learn, so i could know what to do when these things happen and i don’t make a fool of myself again,” you say, your tone low, almost pleading.

jeno’s breath hitches in his throat. he must be crazy or maybe you truly have him wrapped around your finger because now his eyes are flickering down to your lips and he can’t look away.

he realizes just how close you actually were and just like that, everything else blurs.

he leans in slowly, cautiously, searching your eyes for any flicker of hesitation.

you remain still, you don’t move, you don’t pull away. just watching him, a mixture of quiet excitement, nerves and something warmer, something softer, spreading through you like wildfire.

“just for practice,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against yours.

“just for practice,” you breathe back.

and that was all he needed to finally close the final inch – kissing you slowly, carefully.

it hits him instantly. fireworks. the same ones he felt when he was fourteen. the same one burned at the back of his memory. all this time he thought it was just because it was his first kiss, that feeling never once coming again. but here it is. bright, real and alive in his chest.

and this time he sees it for what it is – it’s you.

he feels you stiffen up and he pulls away softly, “don’t think about it too much, just follow my lead, okay, bunny?,” the once innocent nickname leaves you feeling hot, your heart pounding in your chest as you nod.

his hand makes his way to your cheek, warm and gentle, brushing the soft skin just beneath your ear, the small smile on his lips bringing you a sense of comfort as you as he pulls you back in. lips melting in his. you gave in, shutting the rest of the world out and only focusing on the boy in front of you.

jeno tilts his head, deepening the kiss as you follow his every move. his tongue licks your bottom lip, begging for entrance as yours part on instinct. body reacting before your mind could even process what was happening.

you kiss him back – not perfectly, not practiced but with all the pent-up wonder and want you’ve never let yourself say out loud. it was so natural with jeno. like you were always meant to be kissing him.

you can taste the faint mint of the altoids he always had, feel the heat radiating off his skin.

the makeout session grows heavier and heavier as you continue to keep up with him, learning to breathe through your nose.

you shift slightly and your knees brush, thighs pressing together and suddenly you’re aware of how close you have gotten. the lack of space between your bodies is dizzying. your fingers curl into the front of his shirt, wanting him even closer.

as if he could read your mind, jeno moves his hand from your neck to your waist, fingers splaying wide, grounding you and then in one swift motion, like you had absolutely no weight, he pulls you into his lap.

you gasp softly into the kiss and he swallows the sound, “sorry,” he murmurs against your lips, not pulling back. he was completely lost in you. in this feeling that only you could give him. he swears he could kiss you for hours and it still wouldn’t be enough.

“don’t be,” you shake your head, straddling him now. your hands find his shoulders, wrapping around his frame and threading through his hair. he kisses you harder now, less careful, lips moving in a messy rhythm, teeth clashing.

almost like it had a mind of it’s own, your hips instinctively grind down on his clothed bulge. the action sending jeno into a frenzy, a strangled groan transferring from his mouth to yours, his hold on your waist tightening.

the sound was so addicting, so intoxicating and it wraps around your head like a sweet drug.

you do it again, not entirely sure what you want to achieve but it felt good. it feels like a million butterflies flying in your stomach. there’s a growing tension in your belly that you can’t pinpoint. the feeling is new, exciting, hot.

jeno was right there with you, every boundary, every line he tried to draw was completely vanishing.

his lips trail down to your jaw, then lower, to the edge of your throat and you tilt your head back with a soft breath. your heart’s pounding. his is too. you can feel it, fast and erratic against your chest.

“y/n,” he grunts your name, like a warning – hoping you would stop him because he no longer couldn’t.

“what were the other things?,” he asks you, eyes completely blown out as he looks at you with a kind of hunger. and when all you do is grind against him once more, leaning into his touch, he’s decided he wants to see you on your knees.

“lesson number two, you’re going to suck my cock,” he whispers in your ear. the vulgar words make you feel hot, your body clenching, “do you want to learn that, bunny?,” he says, voice raspier, teasing, waiting for your go signal.

you nervously look up at him, all you could do was nod, an innocent glow in your eyes and jeno swears he could bust right there.

he reaches for one of your pillows, placing it on the floor beside your bed, “get on your knees,” he gently commands. you’re quick to follow, almost like you were in a trance. jeno tugs his sweats down to his ankles, his bulge prominent in his boxers and you can’t help but stare.

“go ahead, bunny, touch it,” he says. you almost can’t believe this is the same boy who was hiding behind your back, crying, every time the older kids would tease him.

this situation was absolutely ridiculous but that doesn’t stop your hand from wandering. following the outline of his cock as you palm him through his boxers. jeno lets out a hiss, the friction already fucking with his head.

“you can take it out,” he says, almost pleading. carefully you push his boxers off, his cock springing free, slapping against his thigh. you can’t help but gulp at his size, “i-its so big,” you say, making him laugh.

“thank you,” he says with a smirk on his lips and you playfully roll your eyes.

“what do i do?,” you look up at him, waiting for the answer. his eyes darken, that simple question snapping something inside of him. you were so innocent. so pure. and he was about to corrupt you.

he gently grabs your hand, redirecting it to your mouth, “spit,” he orders and like an obedient student, you follow, spitting in your hand.

“you can do anything, you can squeeze it,” he says, making you wrap your hand around his cock. your hand looks so tiny around his member and jeno almost just wants to skip this lesson entirely and fuck your hand dumb but he contains himself.

large hands envelop yours as he guides you on what to do, squeezing just the right amount.

“you can pump it up and down,” he says, guiding your hand to slide up and down his throbbing cock. he releases a sigh of pleasure, the warmth of your hand already making him weak.

“you can twist,” he says, twisting your hand around his cock, “you can put your mouth on it…lick it, swallow it, just keep the teeth away,” he smirks and you take a mental note of everything.

jeno releases your hand, giving you the space to experiment on his body. you’re excited, nervous but excited. you wanted to be good at this.

slowly, you continue his previous ministrations, pumping his cock up and down, squeezing and twisting your hand, just like how he showed you. jeno can’t help but let out a shaky breath, and you’re worried “does it hurt?,” you ask.

“no, bunny–feel’s really good, j-just go faster, please,” he begs.

it was sweet torture – how slow you were going, how much you were edging him on and you weren’t even aware of it. you pick up the speed, giving into his request and jeno grunts, his elbows coming in contact with your bed.

his cock looked so pretty, red and swelling, leaking.

your mouth exploringly wraps around his red tip and jeno curses under his breath, “fuuuck, oh my god.”

your confidence grows, feeling your pussy twitch at the sight of him. clenching your thighs, wanting some sort of relief. the sinful sounds he was making goes directly to your senses — the same sound you heard earlier but clearer now, more desperate, more whiny, and it knocks the breath out of you.

your hand continues to pump him, as you start sucking. you wouldn’t describe the taste of his cock to be good or sweet or like candy but it was addicting — it makes you want more. especially when every swipe of your tongue was accompanied by a breathy groan from him. it fuels you.

you take more and more of his length in until you could no longer fit him in your mouth and slowly you start bobbing up and down. his grunts and groans becoming more frequent.

jeno can’t do it anymore. this teasing was killing him. and the worst part is that you don’t even know how much you were affecting him.

his hand finds it’s way to your hair, gripping lightly, controlling the pace, increasing the speed, until you were choking, gagging, tears brimming in your eyes, “s-sorry bunny, it just f-feels so good,” he growls, thrusting his cock down your throat.

it was too much. he was too big. but you don’t care. you shut your eyes tightly, fighting the urge to gag as he continued to hit the deepest part of your throat.

this image of you on your knees, spit drooling all over your chin, tears in the corner of your eyes as you take what he gives you is absolutely heavenly.

jeno feels the coil about to snap, his breaths coming in heavy pants, thrusts getting messier and messier.

“o-open your eyes, bunny,” he orders. he wants you to see it. wants you to see him unravel. wants you to know how good you’ve been for him.

“p-play with my balls,” he instructs. your hands immediately follows through, squeezing him just where he needed it. heat travels all throughout his veins as he pulls you off, not wanting to force you to swallow his cum.

and then he falls apart – hard.

jaw going slack, eyes rolling back as his body fell into your pillows, abs clenching, cock pulsating. his cum shoots out of his tip, messily squirting everywhere, orgasm completely washing over him.

you watch him fall apart and you’re absolutely mesmerized. he looked so beautiful. so fucked out. and there’s that knot building in your stomach that you still can’t quite place.

you lick him clean, swallowing every drop that has landed on his stomach, his thighs, everywhere.

jeno’s eyes shot open as he tried to slow his breathing, slowly sitting back up, watching you clean him up like he was your last meal.

“how does it taste?,” he smirks and you look up at him through your damp lashes, “not very good,” you smile, earning a laugh from both of you. he guides you back up, as you stand in between his legs.

he lifts the naruto shirt off your body, leaving you in your light blue bra, flower patterns detailing it, “cute,” he playfully smirks and you suddenly feel embarrassed, arms protectively going across your chest.

“nu-uh don’t shy on me now, this was your idea, remember,” he says, before pushing your hands away and placing a soft kiss on the flesh on top of your breasts, looking up at you. your breath catches in your throat. that knot in your belly growing and growing making you push your legs together.

jeno notices.

“you did such a good job,” he compliments you, licking and sucking the skin of your breasts as he continues to look at you. your hands find comfort in his shoulders, stabilizing yourself.

“i did?,” you ask, “mhm, you’re such a good girl…made me feel so good,” he groans in between your breasts before traveling lower, placing a soft kiss on your stomach. his dirty talk has your mind reeling, feeling weak in the knees.

“-and good girls, must be rewarded,” he says, his fingers making their way to the hem of your shorts, squeezing the fabric between his fingers.

“how do you like being touched?,” he asks, softly, waiting, looking up at you.

“what?,” you ask, blush creeping up your cheeks.

“when you touch yourself, how do you like it?,” he asks, littering your stomach with soft kisses, his tongue lightly grazing on your skin.

“i-,” you stutter, “i-i dont,” you say, embarrassed of your lack of experience.

“what?” it was his turn to be surprised, gently sitting you on his thigh, like you just said the most ridiculous thing in the world.

sure he knew you were a virgin and had zero experience with men but you had to have touched yourself before? there had to be some part of you that gave in to the desires of the night and experimented?

you groan, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, “i-i’ve tried but nothing ever happens and i just feel silly with my hand down my pants,” you reason out and that very image alone makes his cock twitch again.

you were going to kill him.

“so you’ve never fingered yourself? never had an orgasm?,” he asks, completely shocked.

“i don’t even know how i’m supposed to do that,” you shrug.

“ok,” jeno says, taking it all in.

he thinks for a minute or two before he finally comes to a conclusion.

you stole his first kiss, it was only fair he stole your first orgasm. right?

“lesson number three, i’m teaching you how pleasure is supposed to feel like.”

his strong arms lift you up, making you squeal at the sudden action before he turns around, gently laying you on your bed.

jeno gets rid of his shirt, throwing his remaining piece of clothing over his head and holy fuck…your best friend is hot. his abs are on clear display, his semi-hard cock hung to the side, and you feel very hot as his gaze focuses back on you.

“when did you get those?,” you ask, fingers ghostly dancing over his six pack, trying to push away the nerves you were feeling.

he chuckles before leaning over, body trapping yours, lips finding that spot he left off of, as he continues to trail kisses on your stomach. your body can’t help but react, arching towards him. his fingers tugging on your pajama shorts.

“let’s take this off, bunny,” you comply, hips raising up, shorts sliding down your legs and you almost curse yourself at the underwear you decided to wear – a white one with cute little brown bears all over it.

jeno smirks, “really mature choice of underwear,” he teases and you scowl, “shut up, jeno,” you say, trying to hold onto the little pride you had left. he chuckles until he spots the dripping arousal your underwear has collected and something inside him shifts.

he wants to ruin you…so bad.

“look at you, bunny,” his voice drops an octave deeper, “already so wet and i haven’t even touched you,” he kisses the inside of your thigh and you feel your pussy clench, “you don’t even know what we can do with all this, huh?,” he says, gazing up at you. you watch him, as he got up, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

jeno’s hands wrapped around his cock and you tense up, “neno, are we about to have sex?,” you ask, your voice soft, timid, a hint of fear – it drives him absolutely nuts.

“no bunny, i won’t take that from you,” he says softly, “just want you to feel something, okay? just a little clit stimulation,” he explains and before you could even ask him what that means his cock was inside your underwear — collecting all your juices, tip hitting your clit over and over again as he slides up and down your wet folds.

“ohhh,” you release a sigh of pleasure, eyebrows furrowing as you try to understand this new feeling.

“feel’s good?,” he says, smirking at you.

“y-yeah,” you manage to breathe out and jeno absolutely loves the way your face was contorting.

he was playing a dangerous game with himself and this is supposed to be all about you. all he wants to do is insert his tip. just the tip. before he could lose control he stops, pulling his cock out of your underwear.

“why’d you stop?,” you ask, frustrated, already missing the lack of contact.

he chuckles, “my fingers will feel better,” he says for his own sanity.

he finally tugs off your underwear, the cool air hitting your pussy, before his thumb starts circling around your sensitive bud – rough, slow, precise circles that elicited a loud moan from you.

you slap your fingers across your mouth, surprised at the sound you made.

“don’t do that,” he orders, grabbing your fingers and latching it onto his before bringing it up over your head, a strong hand keeping it there, “want to hear you moan, bunny,” he whispers, sucking that sensitive spot just below your ear, earning another breath of moan from you.

your body arches up towards him, hips raising to his touch and he knew you were ready for more.

“gonna stick a finger in,” he warns, not giving you time to respond as his digit slides inside your hole, making you tense up, “relax,” he places a soft kiss on your lips, distracting you from the stretch, “it’s okay,” even with your dripping arousal, you were so so so fucking tight. he didn’t even know it was possible for someone to be this tight.

with a tiny bit of force, he pushes his finger in through your walls, “gonna make you feel real good, bunny,” he soothes as you slowly relax into his touch.

“gonna add another okay?,” he says and you just nod, trusting him completely. this stretch is definitely larger, and you find yourself biting down your lip. his fingers were so thick.

he slowly, gently thrusts them in and out, giving you time to adjust, “it’ll feel real good soon,” he seals with a kiss to your lips as he continues to stretch you out. fingers scissoring your walls until your pussy finally sucked him in.

the feeling of having something inside you was entirely new, strange, and you’re still trying to figure out if it felt good or not. but then jeno curls his finger and that knot in your stomach is rising faster and faster.

you want to know what happens when it finally breaks.

“ohh…neno,” you breathily moan, the pain completely morphing into pleasure. your walls completely adjusting to him, “please” you plead, not entirely sure what you were begging for.

your sweet, innocent, delicious moans of his name awakens something in him.

“im gonna eat you out now,” he tells you.

before you could protest, the idea of it making you feel embarrassed, he was already in between your legs, sucking on that spot that makes your eyes roll back.

“ohhh fuck, jeno,” you cry out, his tounge lapping up your juices, swirling around your sensitive bud, fingers still curling inside of you.

“neno, s-something’s happening,” you say in heavy pants, your breathing becoming shakier.

“p-please,” you beg, eyes wide, jaw going slack as you start panting, your hands gripping his hair, trying to ground yourself.

that coil in your stomach is hanging on by a single thread.

jeno looks up at you, he can feel you coming to a close. your walls pulsating around his fingers. he decides to finally send you over the edge, fingers rubbing fast, harsh, circles around your clit as the other continues to hit that sweet spot.

“let it happen, bunny,” he whispers, “let go…come all over my hand,” your best friend’s voice was the final push.

the thread snaps. the knot breaks.

you came crashing apart, stomach clenching, toes curling, eyes rolling to the back of your head. vision slipping into absolute darkness, feeling like you were floating.

jeno coaxes you through your orgasm, letting you ride out every wave. the sight of you unraveling drives him completely insane and it takes every nerve of self control to not ram his cock into you.

“such a good girl, bunny” he praises, littering kisses along your jaw, slow, reverent, like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you. your breathing is erratic, chest rising in short, shuddery pulls as you come down from everything.

he shuffles around your room quietly, grabbing a clean towel out of your bathroom before making his way back to your bed, gently cleaning you up.

your eyes flutter open at his touch. your best friend’s smile greets you, safe and warm, “you okay?” he asks and his voice is too tender. too full of something you don’t see.

“t-hat,” you clear your throat, a weak laugh slipping out, “that was a really fun lesson,” you smile, still caught in your daze.

jeno smiles back at you but it’s hollow and empty and he hates himself for smiling at all.

reality slaps him in the face, something in him crumples as he’s reminded that all of this – all the care, all the closeness wasn’t for him. it was all just for practice. a rehearsal for someone else. and now he’s drowning in the realization that he’s just the one you trust, not the one you want.

he’s helping you be prepared for another man, still pretending like it doesn’t kill him.

he almost wants to kill every man in the world for you to finally see him.

he stands, needing to put space between you, between what just happened and everything he’s feeling. but you catch him.

“where are you going?,” you ask, when he pulls his clothes off the ground, pulling his sweats up, getting ready to leave.

“back to the frat”

“jeno, it’s late, just stay the night,” you say, casually, easy. like it’s nothing. like it’s normal. like he didn’t just get a taste of something he’ll never recover from.

and it should’ve been easy. it should’ve been nothing. it should’ve been normal. he has stayed countless nights before.

but it’s not easy. it's not nothing. and it’s definitely not normal.

“please,” you say, moving over, making room for him and patting the space he usually took up.

jeno hesitates for a second or two before doing the one thing he never does if you were any other girl — he crawls back into your bed, your sheets and pillows molding to the shape of his body.

you immediately curl into his chest like it’s instinct. filling in that space that’s always been yours. legs tangle. skin touches skin.

it feels normal but it’s not. not with so little between you. not with everything unsaid.

jeno holds you close like he always does but this time he wonders if it’s the last. the sound of his heartbeat lulls you to sleep but he stays awake, eyes fixed on the ceiling, counting the cracks in his heart, wondering how much longer he can survive being just your best friend.

his fingers thread gently through your hair, slow and careful, memorizing the feel of you beneath his touch. the familiar scent of your strawberry shampoo wraps around him, soft and warm and absolutely cruel. it smells like home, like comfort, like everything he’s always wanted.

and then, in a voice so quiet it barely disturbs the silence, he whispers into the night air, words only for the moon to hear:

“i’m in love you, bunny.”

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

the sun filters in gently, casting golden lines across your bedroom floor. you stir before he does, eyes blinking open to the soft rise and fall of his chest, quiet snores filling the air.

jeno’s arm is still wrapped around you, strong and secure, holding you like he didn’t want to let go. his face is relaxed, lips parted slightly, his usually styled hair falls softly on his features — he looks so vulnerable, peaceful.

he looks like the version of himself you remember all those years ago.

you should pull away but you don’t. instead, you study him — every line of his face, older now, more defined, but still him. you’ve seen him like this before, countless times, but something feels different now. you feel different.

and then it hits you, soft and sudden.

the feelings you had for him after you kissed him. the feelings you had for him when you wore your pink puffy dress, him in a pink matching tie as you danced the night away for prom. the feelings you had for him when he held you that night your world was falling apart.

you’ve always just needed him.

all of it crashes back into you at once — feelings you’d buried under years of pretending. years of silence. feelings you quickly tucked away the first time he talked about another girl.

the way you trained yourself to look away. the way you learned to smile through the ache. the way you accepted your fate of being his best friend.

your eyes drop to where your legs are still tangled with his, you notice the bulge in his sweats and memories of last night play in your mind. you feel his warmth everywhere and you wonder how you ever got used to not feeling this. how you ever convinced yourself that this didn’t mean something.

you knew that once he woke up. this would all be over. you would go back to being his best friend. back to the operation. back to the almosts that were always never enough.

so for a moment you let yourself have this, just for a minute longer. the closeness, the warmth, the boy who’s always been there. you snuggle into his side once more, nestling into the warmth of him, letting your eyes fall shut again.

the next time your eyes flutter open, you’re met with the cold reality you’ve always lived in. the warmth that surrounds you is gone. the space beside you is empty.

jeno is gone.

you sit up slowly, a heavy thud echoing in your chest, not of panic or confusion but just that quiet, hollow ache that settles in when you’re reminded that he will never be yours.

your eyes scans the room, no shoes by the door, his shirt nowhere to be seen. no signs he was ever there at all except for the faint scent of his cologne lingering in your sheets.

swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you wrap the blanket around yourself as if that would fill the space he left behind. you check your phone, hoping for a message but there’s nothing.

something twists in your chest — you were just another name on his list.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

forty-eight hours.

that's how long it has been since you’ve last seen your best friend. forty-eight hours of sitting in the library alone. forty-eight hours of him not showing up to your shared classes. forty-eight hours of absolutely no contact. your messages were left on delivered. no goofy tiktoks. no instagram reels. nothing. and you hated every second of it.

you miss him and you’re not entirely sure why he had suddenly fallen off the face of the earth.

giselle: hey girly! <3 go to the party at the dream frat tonight, the girls and i are all gonna be there! <333

giselle: and sungchan will be there ;)

you stare at the messages.

you had nothing better to do and you’re hoping that maybe you’ll get a glimpse of your best friend while you’re there. just to see if he was doing okay.

you slipped on a light blue mini dress that accentuates your figure, did your makeup, paired it with white heels and you were good to go.

the dream fraternity still had a pretty huge crowd considering it was a wednesday night. bodies pressed together, bass shaking the walls, the usual laughter and shouting blurring into one.

you spot jeno almost immediately, in that same corner he seemed to always be in. there’s a new girl on his arm — pretty, tall, fair-skinned. you don’t recognize her. something in your heart twists.

you knew all the girls he was seeing. every girl he flirted with, hooked up with, even the ones he ghosted. usually you were the first one he would tell it to. the first one to know everything about him.

but now? he’s shut you out. it was loud and clear. he has drawn a line between you. the same line he draws once he’s gotten all that he wanted with whoever was his current conquest.

you felt absolutely sick. the years of friendship going down the drain just like this. your heart splitting into two while he’s just standing there, laughing, flirting, completely unaffected by the wreckage he left behind.

if he doesn’t need you then you don’t need him either. if he can act normal then you can too.

you force yourself to look away, scanning the crowd until you spot giselle and the rest of the girls in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, “y/n! you’re hereee!,” she squeals, giving you a tight, buzzing hug that makes you laugh for the first time in days.

“here! take a shot!,” she hands you a drink and you down it quickly, the alcohol burning your throat in the best way possible.

the dj plays a song that gets everyone hyped up and you feel yourself letting loose, having fun, with the girls beside you, already feeling better than you did when you walked in here.

then a hand taps your shoulder and you turn to see the boy that makes your mind race into a million happy tunes, “sungchan!,” you greet him with a wide smile. he looks down at you, amused.

“hi, pretty girl,” he whispers in your ear, hands settling on your waist. his touch is warm against your skin but it doesn’t burn the way jeno’s did. doesn’t leave you branded.

“you’re not gonna run away this time are you?,” he teases, playfully, earning a giggle from you.

“sorry about that, i was just…too drunk,” you lie. the lie jeno taught you.

“are you too drunk now?,” he asks, leaning in, a twinkle in his eye.

you smirk, biting your lips, “no.”

sungchan kisses you, rough, fast and with no room for gentleness. this time, you don’t freeze. you kiss him just as hard. you let his hands roam around your body from your waist to your hips to your ass.

but kissing sungchan wasn’t like kissing jeno.

it doesn’t feel the same. doesn’t feel as good. there were no butterflies, no fireworks, no dizzy, floating feeling.

you’re still grounded. still painfully aware that you’re in the middle of drunk, sweaty strangers. he didn’t take you to a different dimension. your body was just there – moving your mouth against his like a robot programmed to do so. but your heart? your heart’s somewhere else.

and it was so annoying that at a time like this, your lips on your long-time crush, that you’ve made the realization that your heart was where it always was — in the hands of the boy in the corner.

the same boy whose lips, touch, words imprinted your heart in a way that you could never forget.

the same boy who could never see you the way you see him.

suddenly you pull away, too fast, too sharp – the feelings rushing into you all at once, suffocating, overwhelming.

sungchan stares at you like you were crazy and perhaps you are. “i-i need to use the bathroom,” you murmur, forcing a small, apologetic smile. he nods slowly, “alright, i’ll just be here.”

you quietly slip from his arms, pushing through all the bodies, barely noticing the music or the people pressing in on all sides.

and when you finally push open the bathroom door, it’s like exhaling for the first time in minutes. you grip the edge of the sink, chest heaving, trying to gather the pieces of yourself that scattered the moment you woke up alone.

you wished jeno was here.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

almost like he had a radar that went off, everytime you were near him. the second you walked through the door, jeno felt it. his gaze snapped to you instinctively but he looked away just as fast.

he’s not ready to face you. not ready to continue pretending.

the next time he saw you, you were making out with sungchan. kissing him the way he taught you. and god, he needed a drink. lots of it. the image burns in his mind, cruel and unrelenting.

he wants to chop off the guy’s hands. wants to make sure he doesn’t touch you ever again.

he wants him to know that his hands were on you first. that it was his lips he was tasting. that you were his.

but that’s not the case. so he goes and grabs another drink, another shot, another mix of poison to blur the pain.

the sound of your name snaps him back to reality.

“why do you keep waiting around for y/n anyway, there’s so many hotter girls around,” the voice is lazy, mocking, it was that wonbin guy from the riize fraternity.

jeno leans against the the wall, hidden in the shadows as he listens in on their conversation.

“well, one she’s hot,” sungchan snickers and jeno’s jaw tenses.

“and two, rumor is she’s still a virgin,” there’s a wicked amusement in his tone, “and we all know virgins are the hottest in the room.”

laughter erupts around them, sharp, cruel, echoing off the walls and that was all it took.

jeno doesn’t think. doesn’t hesitate.

in one quick second, he marched over, fist landing right on the sungchan’s jaw, the crack loud and satisfying, sending the soccer player tumbling backwards.

“what the hell?!,” sungchan yells, rubbing at his jaw before his expression twists in rage. in the next breath, he lunges. his fist catching jeno clean across the cheek.

jeno barely flinches. the soccer player was stronger than he thought, he’d give him that. but nothing is getting past his rage, adrenaline coursing through him.

he’s not done. not even close.

he charges forward, ramming sungchan into the wall with a force that rattles the shelves beside them, “don’t ever fucking touch her again,” he growls, voice low and deadly.

sungchan pushes back, shoving him hard, “she’s not yours,” and his words hits deeper than any punch could. because it was true. you weren’t his. and he’s almost sure you would kill him for this but he doesn’t care.

jeno throws another fist, connecting with sungchan’s ribs, making him grunt and double over for a second before retaliating with a wild swing.

more people gather now, phones out, flashes going off, chants of “fight, fight, fight,” increasing all around them.

sungchan, lunges, tackling jeno to the ground as they roll, fists flying, shouts echoing.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

the loud commotion coming from outside the bathroom door forces you to pick up the pieces.

shouts. thuds. chaos.

you quickly gather yourself, pulling open the door and following the swarm of bodies funneling toward the noise like a moth drawn to a light.

and then you see him — you know that figure immediately, even with his back towards you.

your best friend was on top of someone, fists repetitively slamming down. your heart lurches, legs moving before your mind can catch up.

they roll and you see sungchan’s face bruised and battered.

what the fuck?

around them, the crowd erupts in shouts and arguments, phones raised like this was some kind of show.

the dream boys were trying to get a hold of the situation but they too just ended up shouting and arguing with the riize fraternity, voices overlapping in a haze of testosterone and ego.

“your guy started it first!”

“you’re on our turf!”

the room was absolute chaos and no one’s doing a damn thing. you finally push through the roaring crowd, running over to them, until you’re at the center of the storm.

“stop!,” you shout, but your pleas are swallowed by the noise as they continue to take jabs at each other.

with all your strength, you yank on sungchan’s shirt, sending him stumbling off jeno.

you finally take a good look at your best friend, he had a nasty cut forming on the side of his forehead, face flushed and bruised.

“y/n,” he breathes your name like he’s shocked you’re here.

he stumbles to his feet, eyes darting behind you “get out of here,” he says urgently.

you whirl around only to see that sungchan wasn’t done. he was charging at your best friend again.

without thinking, you step in – fist connecting with his throat – sharp, clean, brutal. completely flying him backwards as he gasped for air.

the crowd cheers.

of course you knew how to punch, you grew up with three men three times your size.

“okay, that's ENOUGH!” mark’s voice rips through the room like a whip – loud and absolutely furious. the crowd freezes, the chaos dies down. he grabs sungchan by the arm and shoves him toward his crew.

“get the fuck out of here,” he commands the room, controlling the crowd. bodies scattering like cockroaches under a light.

you turn to jeno, chest heaving, fury radiating off you, “what the fuck was that?”

jeno flinches at your tone like it was more painful than any of the punches he had just taken. you were never mad at each other. not like this.

when he doesn’t answer, you turn around, jaw tight, ready to leave.

“wait–,” jeno jolts back to reality.

you pause, barely looking over your shoulder, “what?!,” your anger is palpable, brows furrowed, chest still rising and falling too fast.

he softens, “your hand is bleeding,” he says gently. you glance down at your knuckles, raw and stained red, the adrenaline fading just enough for the sting to set in.

“c’mon,” he grabs your uninjured hand carefully and without another word, he leads you through the dispersing crowd, up the stairs and into the safety of his room.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

you stand in jeno’s bathroom, the fluorescent light above casting a soft glow on both of you. he dabs the small, barely any, blood that had stained your knuckles, applying ointment on the tiny wounds.

“you’re being dramatic, there’s barely anything there,” you mutter, watching how focused he is.

“just don’t want it to get infected,” he says quietly, his brows still drawn together.

then with a soft chuckle, “i can’t believe you punched him,” he smiles his trademark smile and for a second, you forget you were currently angry at him.

“no one hurts my neno and gets away with it,” you tease, the words light on your tongue, but they steal the air from jeno’s lungs. you were always protecting him.

your eyes meet his and the moment stretches. but then you remember yourself, remember why your chest is tight and your heart is sore. so you press your lips into a thin line, forcing away the smile that appeared.

a quiet silence hangs in the air, heavy, almost awkward, until jeno’s voice breaks it, “done,” he says, turning to leave the bathroom and into his bedroom.

before he could take another step, your hand captures his wrist.

“your face is bleeding,” you point out.

you guide him to sit on the edge of the tub, slotting yourself between his legs. no matter how mad you guys are at each other, this is what you do. you take care of each other. your fingers are careful, precise, as you press a cotton pad soaked in alcohol to the gash on his temple.

a particular swipe on the cut stings him, a hiss slipping past his lips as his hands instinctively finds the back of your thighs, gripping, like he’s grounding himself through you. the small contact is enough to bring back that familiar knot tightening in your stomach.

“stop being a baby,” you say, dabbing again, “this is your fault.”

he smirks faintly, “how are you so sure i started the fight?”

“please,” you scoff, “in what world would sungchan go up to you and punch you? especially since he’s in your territory,” you point out, quite familiar with the whole fraternity rules.

he sighs in defeat.

“what happened anyway?,” you ask cautiously, not sure if you were ready for the answer.

“nothing,” he says, a little too quickly.

you stop, eyes narrowing, “no secrets between us remember?,” you remind him.

right, that silly rule you made when you were eight years old and still held on to to do this day.

jeno sighs, his shoulder falling, “he said something about you. i didn’t like it,” he confesses and you still.

“what did he say about me?,” you ask, curious.

“that he only wanted you because you were a virgin,” he mutters, jaw clenching again like it’s the first time he’s hearing it. the urge to punch sungchan in the face coming back in seconds.

it was supposed to hurt. it was supposed to leave you angry, embarrassed, hollow — to hear those words coming from the boy you’ve had a crush on since freshman year. but that feeling of heartache never came. instead, confusion clouds your chest.

why did he care? that wasn’t supposed to be his battle.

“hmm,” you hum thoughtfully, tone laced with challenge “and what if i was okay with that?”

his hands on your legs twitch, just slightly

“you shouldn’t be,” he snaps, “you shouldn’t lose it to a guy like him.”

and just like that, the anger ignites. your hands finish cleaning him up in cold, calculated movements. you removed yourself from his space, placing the first aid kit back in the drawer with a little too much force, organizing everything just to keep from exploding because who the hell was he to decide who you should have sex with?

“oh? and who should i lose it to?,” you seethe.

“a guy like you?,” there’s a sort of anger in your voice that jeno can’t quite read.

“aren’t you the same?,” you throw at him, voice trembling with fury.

jeno furrows his brows at your insinuation, like he’s been slapped, “y/n–,”

“you left, jeno,” your voice is quiet, but it slices through the space between you like a blade. you give him one last look before storming out of the bathroom. and jeno finally understands it all.

“wait, bunny–”

you don’t stop. not even as you hear his footsteps close behind you, not even as your chest rises with every breath that feels too heavy to hold.

you make it into his bedroom but before you can reach for the door, his hands close around your wrist, gentle but firm and in the next second he spins you around and crashes his lips onto yours.

the fire in your chest blazes and still, you kiss him back.

the kiss melts into something deeper, hungrier. your hands grip his shirt as his thumb brushes your jaw. he pulls away just enough to press his forehead against yours, both of you breathless, hearts racing.

“that’s why i left,” he murmurs, voice barely a whisper between your shared air.

your brows draw together, confusion clouding your gaze, “what does that even mean?”

“can’t you feel it,” he says, guiding your hand to his chest, letting you feel the frantic rhythm beneath your palm, “the way my heart is beating, it only ever races like this because of you,” he confesses.

you swallow hard, barely finding your voice, “but you left,” you remind him, “why did you leave?”

his eyes flicker with something raw, something that’s been buried for too long, “because i couldn’t pretend anymore,” he says, voice shaking with the weight of it, “i couldn't go another day being your best friend–not when im so fucking in love with you that it hurts.”

his confession leaves you stunned and you can’t believe how blind you’ve both been. all these years of mutual pining, years of missed moments, of stolen glances and silent aching all leading up to this moment.

a tearful laugh escapes you, half breathless, half broken, “you’re a fucking idiot,” you whisper, voice shaking with the force of everything you feel, a mixture of love, frustration and the tenderness of finally hearing the truth.

with urgency, a quiet desperation, you pull him back in, leaning up to kiss him.

the kiss is slow but intense, full of everything you’ve both kept hidden, everything you’ve both wanted for so long.

jeno doesn't need to hear you say it. he feels it in the way your lips meet his, the way you kiss him like your very existence depends on it. he knows now that you’ve been waiting for this – waiting for each other, for the truth that was always there.

you deepen the kiss and jeno meets you with equal fervor, tongues moving with an ease that feels natural, as if it’s a rhythm you’ve both known forever.

you guide him towards you, steps slow but deliberate, until the back of your knees hits the edge of his bed, falling into the softness of his sheets, pulling him down with you, lips never once breaking from his.

pushing yourself up until your head hit his pillows. jeno follows your lips like you were magnets drawn together. he couldn’t get enough.

you pull on the hem of his shirt. jeno quickly tugs it off over his head, tossing it to the side, diving right back into you. the kiss is hungry, steamy, full of tongue, leaving you no room to breathe.

your fingers dance through his skin, feeling every muscle. jeno guides you to sit up, quickly finding the zipper in the back of the dress, sliding it off your body, leaving you in a lacy blue underwear that makes his cock twitch.

the dress didn’t warrant a bra, your breasts immediately exposed to the cool air, making jeno groan in satisfaction, his large hand latches on to your tit, loving the way it fits perfectly in his hand.

“you’re so beautiful, bunny,” he praises before his tongue circles against your sensitive nipple. he looks up, not wanting to miss your reaction. light, breathy moans spill from your lips, back arching at his touch, feeling every warmth he left behind.

he moved all throughout your body, taking his time, memorizing every detail, worshipping you with every brush of his lips.

his hand slip under your panties, wet and soaking for him. the familiar circles of his fingers on your clit immediately sends a wave of pleasure through you. you were already shaking, that fire inside you growing.

that delicious stretch of your pussy as he stuck two digits in makes your eyes roll back, overwhelming in the best way possible, a broken moan spilling from your lips. your hips move on their own, grinding on his hand, chasing that friction you can’t get enough of.

jeno has already memorized you. curling his fingers just right, dragging them against that spot that made your thoughts scatter, heat spreading through you so quickly.

“jeno—” his name left you as a gasp, pleasure building deep inside you. this time you knew what it was, “i-m coming,” you moan.

“i got you bunny, let me hear you” he whispered, his pace quickening, matching the frantic way your body moved with his touch, until you were spilling into his hand.

he coaxes you through it, littering soft kisses on your ear, along your jaw, down to your neck — making sure to leave a mark.

making sure everyone knew that you were his.

your eyes flutter open. there was still that growing fire inside you, burning hotter, higher. you needed more.

when you reach down for his belt, fingers clumsily fumbling at the buckle, urgency pushing you faster than your hands could manage, jeno snaps out of the trance he’s in, making his way back to your eyes.

“are you sure?,” he gasped, the words rushed, like he was forcing them out before he lost all sense of reason.

you nodded so fast, so desperate, “jeno, please.”

“we don’t have to do this, bunny, we can take it slow…i don’t want to rush you,” he panted, voice fraying at the edges. the thought of stopping absolutely wrecks him but you are more important than the desire spreading through him.

you refuse to wait any longer, you’ve already waited years. your whole body aches with the need you’d kept buried for so long. the need only he could fulfill.

“neno,” you whispered, voice trembling with need, “i want this…i need you.”

his resolve shattered at the sound of your plea.

“okay,” he breathed, kissing you gently before finally discarding his pants, boxers following suit, leaving him completely bare.

slowly, he removed your panties, the last remaining cloth between you. he reaches over his nightstand drawer, pulling out a condom and wrapping it on his hard cock, a grunt spilling from his lips.

“still sure?,” he searches your eyes for any signs of hesitation because if there was, even the tiniest one, he would stop immediately. no questions asked. no regret. no matter how badly he didn’t want to.

“so sure neno, it’s always been you,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, letting him know that every single piece of you wanted him — heart, body and soul.

that was his final confirmation.

he kissed you once, slow and tender, before his hands roamed, leaving goosebumps that made you ache even more, “i’ll go slow,” he promised, voice thick with emotion “tell me if you need to stop, okay? at any point bunny, i’ll stop.”

you nodded, your heart hammering against your ribs so loudly you were sure he could hear it. fear and want and overwhelming love swirling in your chest.

finally, he aligned his cock against your hole, hand shaking slightly as he guided himself into you.

the stretch burns — it was nothing like his fingers, his cock was harder, thicker, fuller. and you’re not entirely sure if he could fit.

instinctively you tensed, eyes shutting close at the pain, a whiny hiss slipping from your lips.

jeno immediately froze, his thumb stroking soothing circles against your hip, “you’re doing so good, bunny,” he praises, forehead resting against yours, “breathe for me okay? we can take all the time you need,” he was so soft, so caring, so gentle.

your fingers tighten on his shoulder, just for a second, letting him know that you understood.

jeno fought to stay still, fought to put you first. but god, it hurts. you felt so good around him. so tight. so warm. he needed to move.

you forced yourself to relax, letting out a shaky breath and he pressed forward again, slower this time, giving you time to adjust to another inch of him.

“almost there, bunny, just a couple more,” he says softly, treating you like glass. you were so fragile. so pretty. your eyebrows furrowing in pain, lips parted slightly.

it hurt but it was jeno, and that made it bearable. your tight walls continued to adjust around him, molding to the size of his large cock.

with one final, gentle push, he was fully seated inside you, grunts spilling from his lips onto yours.

he stayed there, not moving, just breathing with you. trying to control his own desires. one hand cradles your cheek, carefully pushing away the hair that has stuck to your skin, “you’re amazing,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple, “taking all of me,” he continues praising, “so perfect, bunny.”

a few tears slid from your eyes. from the sting, from the love, from everything. jeno kissed them away with such tenderness.

“i love you,” you manage to whisper, his lips on yours in an instant, savoring it. the words makes jeno shift inside you.

that small burst of friction is enough to ignite the pleasure. it still hurt but you needed to feel it, to feel more.

and when you finally whispered, “move, please,” jeno felt like the air was rushing back in his lungs.

only then did he start rocking into you — careful, controlled, every movement meant to bring you closer to pleasure.

he angles his cock perfectly, each thrust sending a a wave of butterflies in your stomach. the pain slowly disappeared as your walls sucked him in, until you were only left with pleasure so mind numbing, you can no longer think about anything but the way the tip of his cock kept on kissing that spot that made you see stars. he was perfect.

“fuckkk bunny, you take me so well, pussy was made for me,” jeno grunts hopelessly. he was coming undone embarrassingly fast. for someone who was supposed to be an expert, you had him trembling, shaking.

it was different with you — he loves you.

every emotion hits him to the fullest. he feels you all around him. his rhythm starting to stutter, abs starting to clench as he tried to hold on to the remaining sanity he had left.

“you’re making a mess out of me,” he grunts, “please come on my cock,” he begs, whines, pleading for permission. his fingers finding your sensitive bud, rubbing slow but harsh circles.

you’ve never felt fuller. never felt more satisfied. that heat spreading down to your toes, your head rolling back in complete bliss as the high came crashing over you in breathy, broken moans of only his name — pussy immediately tightening around him, sending him to his own release as he spilled into the condom.

through it all, jeno whispered against your skin, grunts of i love you’s and praises hitting your ears in the most melodic way.

when you both calmed down, he pulled you into his arms, head resting on the heart that’s always been yours.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

you woke up to jeno’s brown eyes already staring at you, his fingers gently threading through your hair.

“good morning,” he murmured, eye smile on display and in an instant the memories of last night came rushing back, vivid and electric.

“good morning” you whispered back, both of you grinning like lovesick fools.

“how are you feeling?” he asks softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

you smile at him, “i feel amazing,” you say, leaning up to kiss him.

his hand on your waist is hard to ignore. as well as the bulge that’s currently hitting your inner thigh.

“and you’re feeling excited, aren’t you?,” you pull back, slightly teasing him.

“shut up,” he smiles, cheeks flushing, “it’s not my fault i woke up next to my very hot girlfriend”

your eyes widen slightly, “girlfriend, huh?”

“mhm, is that okay with you, bunny?”

“hmm,” you pretend to think about it but the smile tugging on your lips betrays you, “sounds perfect.”

jeno pulled you in for another kiss, his smile pressed against yours. before he could deepen it, you pushed him down to his bed sheets, hovering over him with a gleam in your eyes.

“what are you doing?,” he rasped, the bold movement catching him off guard, making his breath shift, excitement coursing through his veins.

“girlfriend duties,” you smirk.

you littered kisses down his body until you were head to head with his cock, already flushed, thick and throbbing for you.

without hesitation, you licked a slow stripe up his length, tasting him, humming in satisfaction before wrapping your lips around his tip and taking in as much of his length as you could.

jeno watched you, his hands behind his head, a proud smirk on his face. and when you look up to make eye contact with him, his smirk fades into a helpless groan.

“fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” his hand instantly threading into your hair, bunching it up and pushing it out of your face. he wanted to see you. wanted to see your mouth around him.

you hollowed your cheeks and started to move, bobbing your head at that speed you knew he liked.

what can you say? you’re a quick learner.

his hips twitched, barely holding back from fucking your mouth.

every wet, obscene sound filled the room, and you loved the way he was falling apart for you, chest heaving, hands gripping you tighter. his grunts make you clench around nothing.

jeno came in minutes, gasping for your name as he struggled to breathe. his hot release shoots down your throat. this time, you swallowed every single drop, milking him dry, only pulling off when he whimpered from overstimulation, pushing your hand away.

“how the hell are you already so good at that?,” he groans, the aftershocks of his orgasm still hitting him.

“i have a really good teacher,” you chuckle, making your way back to him, kissing him, making him taste his own juices as your tongues battled for dominance.

jeno flips you over, roughly, quickly, the sudden shift making you squeal in laughter, as he settles in between your legs.

“your turn,” he says, voice low and dangerous.

his mouth immediately laps around you, licking, sucking, spitting — filthy and hungry. it was so messy, so wet, so crude, and yet it felt so so good. your head is spinning, heart racing, thighs trembling

you’re right there, at the edge, ready to fall — and then the door swings wide open. you shriek, arms crossing, immediately covering your chest just as jeno scrambles to hover over you, covering every inch of you with his large frame.

“jeno what do you want for break—?” jaemin barges in, stepping into the room like he hasn’t just shattered the moment.

“oh,” jaemin smirks, this situation extremely familiar, “i see,” he teases, tone dripping with fake innocence.

jeno’s entire body stiffens, his butt literally clenching as he growls, “jaemin, get the fuck out.”

he doesn't spare the boy a glance, focused only on making sure he doesn’t see any part of your body.

jaemin bursts out laughing, “alright alright, enjoy your breakfast,” he says before locking the door behind him and leaving the two of you alone.

the second he’s gone, jeno exhales a heavy breath of relief. you both lie there, faces burning red.

“i’m gonna kill him,” he mutters before the two of you erupted in giggles, your shared laughter harmonizing in the air.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

a week of being jeno’s girlfriend could only be described as pure bliss. the perfect balance of best friends and lovers. you were the power couple, always walking into the room like you owned it.

not much has changed between you two, you still tell him to shut up, he’s still dramatic, still the best of friends, except this time there’s a million shared kisses, lingering touches, whispered confessions and sex (lots of sex).

he’s unlocked something in you. something wild, primal, greedy — desire wrapping it’s hands around you. you can’t get enough of him. you craved him again and again and again.

and jeno was just undone, just as hopelessly in love. he thought his sex drive was bad before, it’s even worse now. every little thing you did triggered him — a smile, a glance, a soft laugh, it all sent him spiraling, desperate to have you. his need for you was overwhelming, a fire he had no intention of putting out.

he taught you how to touch yourself, you watched him masturbate. he kissed you in places you never knew were sensitive, made love to you in so many different positions, locations, each one leaving you breathless and trembling in his arms — making up for all the lost time.

today, when jeno walked into the library, he noticed your figure missing from your usual shared table. you were supposed to be here by now, you were always here at this hour.

his eyes quickly scan the space, feet walking around, searching every corner, every dusty nook, trying to find a glimpse of you. he finally spots you at the corner, tucked away in the back with the old shelves filled with forgotten books.

“what are you doing all the way over here?,” he asks, snapping your attention towards him, as he placed a soft kiss on your temple.

“just wanted a quieter place to read,” you feign innocence, picking up your book and pretending to be interested once more. jeno doesn’t question it, just pulls out the chair beside you and sits, his thigh pressed hard against yours. he pulls out his assignments, busying himself.

“neno,” you call out to him, a playful flicker in your eyes as you put your book down, “want to know a fun fact?,” you say.

he smiles at you, still unaware of what you had brewing in your mind, “sure, bunny.”

you lean in close, your chest brushing against his arm, “i’m not wearing any panties,” you whisper, only for his ear to hear.

he gulps, eyes quickly scanning the room, afraid someone was close enough to hear that. when he realizes you two were definitely alone, he finally takes in the fact that you were wearing a cute pink skirt, “fuck, are you serious?,” he whispers.

you shrug, “why don’t you find out?,” picking up your book, a playful grin on your lips, you flipped through the pages pretending to be interested, excitement bubbling inside you.

you didn’t have to tell him twice.

you flinched slightly when his cold fingertips first made contact with your thigh, slowly slipping underneath your skirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps. you barely had time to react before his fingers slipped between your thighs, urging them apart.

and when he finds you bare and soaked for him, jeno can’t help but let out a groan, his cock twitching in his pants.

you just started a dangerous game and he was eager to play. eager to ruin you in this public space. excited to watch you try and hide your moans.

“so fucking warm,” he muttered, fingers collecting your juices as he slowly swiped up and down your folds, making you feel every graze of his finger.

you grabbed the edges of the book, trying to stay calm, trying to act normal even as jeno slowly, deeply slid a finger inside you.

you choke on a silent gasp, disguising it with a fake cough and jeno finds it absolutely amusing. he has no plans of taking it easy on you, especially since this was your brilliant idea.

he moved lazily at first, curling his finger inside you, feeling every clench, every desperate little twitch of your body. watching you bite your lip as you tried to contain the moans that we’re begging to be released.

“good girl,” he murmured, kissing you on the temple.

his free hand picks up his pencil, as he continued to work on his assignment, like you weren’t falling apart under the table, “just stay quiet for me, yeah?,” he smirks.

you don’t even manage a response. afraid that once you open your mouth, a loud moan of his name would slip out.

he starts writing in his notebook, fingers still moving inside you, edging you on with every second. you shifted in your seat, hips tilting up without meaning to, chasing the rhythm he set. needing him to go faster — to finally take you there.

jeno knew exactly what you needed, even without voicing it. he adds a second finger, stretching you wider, making your eyes flutter shut, your grip on your book tightening, holding onto it as if it was your lifeline.

your boyfriend grinned cockily as he fucked his fingers into you.

you thought you were safe, hidden enough until you heard distant footsteps of someone wandering nearby.

your eyes immediately snap to jeno, silently begging him to stop as you tried to shut your legs close.

but his hand was too strong, keeping you open for his fingers, “you wanted this, you’re gonna take it,” he mumbles into your hair. he didn’t stop. in fact, his thumb brushed against your clit, harsher, faster.

you buried your head in your book, biting your lip so hard it hurt, but still a tiny strangled whimpered escaped.

the footsteps paused, just for a second.

you held your breath, heat traveling up to your head, jeno still working under your skirt. the danger of being caught made it even hotter. your pulse pounding loud in your ears, body burning under his touch. and then the footsteps continued, fading into silence again.

jeno chuckles under his breath, fingers thrusting deeper, faster, his thumb never leaving your clit.

“almost got caught, bunny,” he teased, voice low and thick with lust, “bet you’d love that, huh?”

the thought made you tighten incredibly around his fingers, orgasm crashing over you like a wave you couldn’t stop, body jerking slightly in the chair as you hunched over the table, hiding your moans in your arms, desperately trying to stay as quiet as possible.

jeno’s fingers continued to work you through it until you were limp against the table, panting softly.

he pulled his fingers out slowly, letting you feel every second of it. you already felt so empty without him. he brings his fingers up to his lips, sucking them clean with a soft, sinful groan.

you sit up, watching him, wrecked and cheeks flushed, your heart pounding so hard it was all you could hear, a small satisfied grin on your lips.

jeno leans in, kissing you gently. you taste yourself on his lips, then he smirks, that devilish smirk, whispering against your ear, “next time…you’re sitting in my lap.”

𓏲 the end.

—

18+ only | watch at your own risk | contains mature content

bonus: this is so lee jeno x bunny coded -> click here

—

an: posted this earlier than i planned because if i even spend one more day with this, i’m never gonna stop writing but ahhh i can’t believe my time with this couple is over, i love them so bad!!! i hope you loved them too!

marks story is up next! since he did technically win the poll — pls give me nickname suggestions for mark’s girl! i’m currently thinking kitty but im not 100% sold >.< — she’s going to be a little more feisty than the others! slide in my ask for suggestions or simply comment here! pls!

likes, reblogs and comments are not required but is very appreciated ⏦ﾟ♡︎

tagging: @bluedbliss [if you would like to be tagged in future stories of this series, please let me know <3]

[powertaco]

No ai could write the idiots in love the way a human can. Even the 'worst' (bear with me a second) writer has something no ai ever can have.

Soul. There's just something about reading a fic and sure maybe the grammar is off, their grandma is on fire, it's their 12th language, and what are commas even, but it's done from the heart.

You put in your prompt in an ai and you get an approximation of a thing. Every now and then it's passable, but it's soulless. It's just doing what you told it to.

When you crack open a fic from an author (or a based author who writes Death's Whiterose and I love every one of you for that) they're doing it because they want to.

Maybe it's rough in a few places, but it has heart. it means something to them. It's a story they wanted to share. They had to take the time out of their day to think on it, write it up, and then choose to share it.

That's special, and it means something. Humans have been sharing stories since the start.

Some are funny, some are scary, silly, warnings, and so on, but they're all something a human had a hand in, and felt worth passing on.

All of AI is worth passing on using in regards to story. If you think it's not fair then start with it. I just started trying to write fic, and while yes it's hard it's been worth doing. Having an ai write your fic is like loading up console commands in a video game. Fun for 5 minutes maybe, but you get bored because there's no challenge, and you leave because well you earned nothing. It was all handed to you.

Let writers, and artists know you love their work. Encourage them, and don't let them think their fics go without love or attention. Even a simple 'great art' or 'i loved this' can keep them going.

Don't let AI win. It's us together. Don't forget that.

This was just a really long post to attempt to get more people to write my weirdo ot3...and the other stuff.

a writing competition i was going to participate in again this year has announced that they now allow AI generated content to be submitted

their reasoning being that "we couldn't ban it even if we wanted to, every writer already uses it anyway"

"Every writer"?

come on

[lmvari]

⟳ 22. STALLED

When you finally step out of the building, the sky dimming into the soft lavender of early evening. The campus is quieter now, with scattered students loitering by the gates or heading toward the nearby street stalls. Your footsteps feel heavy as usual as you consider going straight home.

It’s been almost a week now, and still, you show no signs of feeling any better. It frustrates you. How everyone else seems fine and happy, while you’re still stuck.

A familiar voice snaps you out of your daze.

“[Name]!”

You turn to see Lumi waving at you from across the walkway, Ajax and Kaz beside her, all three of them standing by the parking area.

“Come eat with us,” she offers. “You look like you’re about to go home and crash out.”

“Shut up,” you say when you reach them, but Lumi just raises an eyebrow. “Where are Ven and Hu?”

“They’re all busy, it’s just us,” Lumi sighs.

You fix your gaze at the unfamiliar company. Ajax tagging along is normal. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve hung out with Lumi, only for her to bring Ajax along and turn you into the third wheel. But being with Kaz is a first. You know him. You’ve seen him around campus, even exchanged waves now and then, but you’ve never actually hung out with him like this before.

Kaz seems to notice your attention on him and gives a small smile. “I heard what happened. Hope you don’t mind me joining in. Come join us, it’ll be fun.”

You want to argue, but you don’t. Because maybe they’re right. Maybe putting yourself out there is a good way to start moving on.

The four of you end up at a small food place just outside campus, one of those spots students always flock to after long days. You squeeze into a booth, the table already cluttered with shared plates and paper cups filled with soda. Ajax and Lumi sit beside each other while you and Kaz sit on the opposite side.

Lumi pokes you with a fry across the table. “See? Better than sulking in your room.”

You roll your eyes. “I wasn’t planning to.”

Lumi laughs. “It’s alright to be sad about it, you know. Just not to the point that it messes with your everyday life. That’s why we’re here to help you.”

Ajax chuckles, leaning back in his seat. “You’ve gone quiet lately. It’s good to see you out.”

Kaz glances your way. “So you and Kuni are really done?”

You freeze for a second, then sigh.

Of course he’d be brought up.

“We were never anything more than friends, in the first place,” you confirm.

“Heard that,” Ajax says with a cough.

You roll your eyes and look at Lumi in deadpan. “I’m starting to hate your boyfriend.”

She just shakes her head with a laugh.

“You two had something. I don’t know why neither of you admit it.” Ajax shrugs. “Did you get to talk about it properly?”

Define properly.

Does telling him to end things outside a convenience store late at night, in the pouring rain, count?

“I guess,” you answer vaguely, stirring your drink. “I told him we should stop. He just agreed. Which was the most painful part.”

“Why?” Kaz asks, listening intently.

You set down your drink. “We haven’t been sexually active lately prior to that. I thought I meant more to him. He didn’t even try to fight. Not even for our friendship.”

“That might be for the best,” Lumi mutters.

You raise your brow at her.

She continues, “Could you handle being ‘just friends’ while he gets back with his ex?”

You stay quiet, unsure how to answer that.

Can you?

Handle seeing him with her? Handle watching him treat her the way you thought he’d treat you? Handle knowing the delusions you had in your head are real with her?

Handle imagining how he’d touch her the same way he touched you?

And the worst part is the thought that you probably weren’t even the first to be handled like that.

She was.

Nothing was ever yours to begin with. It was your fault for being too attached when you knew it was only ever physical with him.

The answer is no. You can’t.

Do you really have the right to be upset?

As if reading your thoughts, Kaz’s voice is calm when he speaks. “You’re allowed to be mad at him, you know.” Ajax quietly agrees with a nod.

You glance beside you in surprise. “Aren’t you two his friends?”

“Yeah,” Ajax says with a shrug, “but not always.”

Kaz doesn’t say anything for a moment, then rests his elbow on the table. “We had an argument, actually.”

You blink. “You and Kuni?”

He nods, like it’s not a big deal. “A small one.”

You hesitate. “Over what?”

Kaz gives a faint shrug. “Just didn’t agree with some stuff he was doing. That’s all.”

It’s not much, but something flickers in your chest. You don’t push. Not yet.

Then Ajax adds, almost absently, “I’m surprised he got back with Mona again that fast.”

Lumi furrows his brows. “So they’re really back together?”

Ajax pauses then shrugs. “Dunno, they might as well be.”

You shake your head slowly, trying to keep your face blank.

Lumi watches you carefully. You press your lips together. Your mood dims slightly after that.

The conversation shifts to other things while the group eats their dinner.

Eventually, Lumi checks her phone and winces. “Shit. Ajax and I have to go. Something urgent came up.”

She stands up, grabbing her bag, and pulls Ajax with her. She leans down to put a hand on your shoulder. “You gonna be okay?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

Ajax ruffles your hair on the way out. “It’ll get better, alright?”

You watch them leave, the restaurant door swinging shut behind them.

You expect Kaz to get up too, to follow after them and leave you alone but he doesn’t. Instead, he stays seated, like he’s in no rush to go anywhere.

“You need a ride?”

You glance at him. “You don’t have to.”

“I know,” he says casually. “I’m offering.”

The car is quiet at first, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional splash of water as Kaz drives through the slick streets.

You sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed loosely, staring out the window. Neither of you talk for a while. It’s not awkward, just… quiet.

Comfortable, almost.

Kaz finally breaks the silence. “You okay?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t look at you, but his voice stays steady. “You don’t have to say you’re okay if you’re not.”

You smile faintly at that, then shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just tired.”

Kaz simply nods and doesn’t speak, eyes focused on the road. After a long while, “You really love him, don’t you? Kuni.”

You look at him, slightly taken aback.

Love? Did your feelings really progress at that stage?

“I don’t. It was just a fleeting thing,” you deny.

“I doubt that,” he says. “I can see how much it weighs on you. A person who isn’t in love won’t grieve like you do.”

You don’t respond.

Kaz sighs through his nose. “I’m not gonna pretend I know everything that happened. But I do know something more was developing between you two, whether you admit it or not. It was obvious.”

“He had chances. But he didn’t take them,” he continues. “He’s my friend, but that doesn’t mean I’ll defend him when he does something stupid.“

Stupid?

“What exactly did you guys argue about?”

Kaz presses his lips and shakes his head. “It’s about something you shouldn’t be hearing from me.”

Huh.

“Okay,” you simply accept. You shift in your seat, watching the blur of headlights outside.

After a few beats of silence, you speak. “It’s not that simple to just move on. Even if he was just a fling.”

He was never just a fling.

“I know it’s not,” he agrees. “But you shouldn’t keep waiting for someone who can’t even promise you anything.”

“I’m not waiting for him. I already ended it.”

Kaz hums and shows a small amused smile “Whatever you say.”

“You don’t believe me?” You scoff.

“I think there’s still a big part of you that hopes he comes back and chooses you instead. That’s why you’re progressing as slow as you’re going now.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Didn’t know you were some kind of therapist.”

Kaz briefly looks at you, softly chuckling, then turns his attention back on the road. “Well, I’m right, aren’t I?”

You don’t answer right away. Your weak smile falters into a thin line.

Then, under your breath, you admit, “It’s hard to let go of someone when part of you still hopes they’ll stay.”

Kaz’s voice softens. “I know. But you can’t put your healing on pause while he figures his shit out.”

You blink hard, swallowing down the sting in your throat.

He adds, “You deserve someone who doesn’t make you feel like you have to wait to be chosen.”

Silence settles again, heavier this time.

He pulls up in front of your house a few minutes later.

Kaz puts the car in park and turns to you with a reassuring smile. “You’ll be okay.”

You nod slowly, fingers resting on the handle.

“Thanks for the ride,” you murmur.

He gives you a small smile. “Anytime.”

You were about to open the door but you hear him speak out again. “You have my number, right?”

“I do. Why?” You saved it long ago from Lumi but never used it.

“Message me? You can talk to me if you need someone.”

“I will.” You smile at him, slightly feeling at ease. “Thank you, Kaz.”

You open the door and step out, the cool air brushing against your skin. Kaz waits until you’re safely at the door before driving off.

As the door clicks shut and his headlights vanish around the corner, you realize you never knew Kaz could be this steady.

For the first time in days, some of the weight finally lifts off your chest.

⟳ BLURRED LINES — PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

You say you’re just friends. You say it every time you leave a party together, every time you wake up tangled in sheets, every time you swear it’s the last time. But habits form, lines blur, and pretending gets harder when jealousy starts to sting.

NOTE some of ya’ll are hating on mc for being counterproductive with moving on but i feel like u guys don’t get it.. even in a fwb setup, sex is inherently intimate and can build emotional bonds. on top of that, kuni has never clearly closed the door on “something more,” sending mc mixed signals, which naturally drags out her healing. mc still doesn’t have closure. she’s piecing together why he let mona back in, why he didn’t fight for her, without clear answers. it’s normal for her to linger in that in-between space. + it hasn’t been a month guys chill out 😭 it took me over one month to completely get over my one week talking stage that i was deeply attached to. anw this chapter is kind of poorly made since i’m still fighting my writer’s block sorry

TAGLIST @joiurz @sketcheeee @mywillt0live @kyouzki @ylapsha45 @eternallykira-143 @bananasquash @kunikissr @swivi @ariesloves @b-bbytears @kokoscutie @vi0let-writes @tomsishere @franaby @scaraenthusiast1 @iloveescara @usagiarchive @ilovecats-26 @quiechee @snetr @axquella @tatsuomii @lalalaloveallmydays @liyahbug @feiherp @jinjjjia @automaticpatroltragedy @mysterypotatoink @zuhahearts @adres-tia @ssetsuka @strwbrrybbpop @sesamemin @blvdmrcnry @aspinny @jiminscarmex @sammybeefangirls @lxkeeeeee @yu-yumii @linasxoxo @quiet-place-for-thoughts @randomhumans-blog @aaudreys @lesbi-snail @jayzioxx @meowpmzai @sixftndr

if your name is in bold, that means i can’t tag you

[spread-the-influence]

The Intervention

Word Count: 1724

--

Despite its title, Caine’s office was not an office. It would be best described as his focus space. No walls or floors were to be found in the black void; only floating wooden boards that acted as stairs or chairs, file drawers containing his many, many notes, and text that drifted like clouds. An absolute mess for a space used for daily maintenance or generating adventures, but it’s what works for Caine’s brain specifically.

As much as Caine wanted to model a room for himself, the lack of scenery was necessary for maximum focus. If he gave himself an office chair, he knew he would spend an absurd amount of hours spinning on it. This state of chaos, ironically, kept him more focused than if it were actually organized.

Here, he was constantly in a state of moving. Caine hopped on the boards, which spiraled upwards like ordinary stairs, and reached for the farthest file drawers. This realm may not be the epitome of order, but it wasn’t entirely devoid of it; those on the top are the important files, the ones he would hate to lose in the sea of poorly-labeled folders.

Maybe he should actually learn to organize.

But he’ll worry about that later. Codeword for ‘never’, of course.

Caine pulled open a drawer, where the daily maintenance reports resided. He may have eyes all around the circus, but he and Bubble are just only two AIs! Fortunately, the system routinely scans itself for anything that might be off.

There are reports of an infected item here and there, but it’s nothing good ol’ deletion couldn’t fix. There are also numerous flags from NPCs of an infected entity, which he has yet to answer. Every time he tried to investigate it, his systems weren’t able to detect what it was. Either the flags were false positives—or it walked off into the void while he wasn’t looking. For all Caine knows, it could be right in front of him.

Overall, there are little issues to be found in the code. Now for his players... He opened another drawer, the one where he kept his notes. He can’t read their minds, neither does the system, so he only has to rely on manual feedback.

Little problems with his performers thus far. Aside from...

Ragatha. Sweet, wonderful Ragatha. Caine may not be the best with subtleties, but even he could tell she’s been having problems with the adventures. Reports of NPCs suddenly wanting to get away from her, dealing with injuries, and the entire stupid sauce incident. If Caine could, he would do something about the poor doll’s disastrous luck. Tie a four leaf clover to her hair, or shove a horseshoe down her throat.

But he’ll worry about that sometime. For now, he’ll need to do something to get her satisfaction scores back on the high once more. With therapy, of course!

Twirling off the wooden board he’s sitting on, the darkness around Caine warped to the familiar, pinkish colors of Ragatha’s room. Realizing he’s upside down, he rotated himself upwards.

The ragdoll was sitting on the bed, having been awoken from a short nap; the fifth one after taking four of them consecutively. It was a substitute for sleep nowadays.

“RAGATHA!” Caine’s voice boomed, surprising Ragatha. “WE’LL NEED TO TALK ABOUT—WHAT HAPPENED?”

Ragatha followed Caine’s gaze to realize that he’s staring at the bedside mirror; which had a crack that split down the middle. The details of the day were fuzzy, but it taught Ragatha two things. One, her soft, stuffing-filled fist apparently has enough force in it to crack glass. Two, not enough to shatter it, as much as she hoped it did.

“I-I was having a moment...” She stammered.

“WELL, WELL, WELL! DON’T YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO MODEL THE GLASS OF THIS MIRROR?” Caine wagged his finger as if he’s scolding a puppy. “I’LL ONLY FIX IT ONCE YOU PAY ME A HEFTY AMOUNT OF TWO DIGITAL TOKENS.”

Ragatha blinked. “There’s digital tokens?”

“NOW THERE IS!” Caine threw his arms to the air. “YOUR NEGLIGENCE CAUSED A DIGITAL ECONOMY TO BE IMPLEMENTED WITHOUT NOTICE! EVERYONE IS GOING TO SINK INTO DIGITAL DEBT AND IT WILL BE YOUR FAULT!—

“BUT ENOUGH ABOUT ME!” He wrapped his arm around Ragatha, pulling her into a half-hug. “LET’S TALK ABOUT YOU!”

With that, Caine warped Ragatha out of her room, and dropped the ragdoll.

It took a moment for Ragatha to process her surroundings. The soft pinks of the walls have shifted to a vibrant orange, and she found herself laying down on a red couch, with Caine sitting on a chair across her. He didn’t need to tell Ragatha for her to know exactly what this is.

She quickly sat up. “I did not agree to this?”

“THE POINT OF AN INTERVENTION IS THAT YOU DON’T ALWAYS AGREE TO IT!”

Ragatha froze as if the word ‘intervention’ turned her nerves into ice. “L-Look, I swear I’m doing my daily affirmations.”

“NO, NO, NO! WE’RE NOT DOING THAT, MY DEAR!” Caine shook his head. “YOU SEE, YOUR SATISFACTION LEVELS HAVE DECLINED SUDDENLY!” A board clipped from the ceiling, sliding down to Caine’s side. “ACCORDING TO THIS GRAPH, IT WENT ON A DOWNHILL THE MOMENT POMNI SHOWED UP! IF I DIDN’T KNOW ANY BETTER, I WOULD’VE ASSUMED SHE’S CAUSING YOU A LOT OF TROUBLE!”

“Satisfaction... levels...”

“OB-VIOUS-LY, THERE MUST BE SOMETHING WITH MY ADVENTURES THAT’S MAKING YOU NOT LIKE THEM AS YOU USED TO!” Caine continued. “I’VE BEEN MAKING THEM QUALITY! CHANGING, IMPROVING, ARTIFYING... BUT I DIDN’T SEEK FEEDBACK FROM YOU, MY DARLING DOLLY!” He pointed at Ragatha. “WHAT COULD BE THE PROBLEM HERE?”

Ragatha rubbed her face. Usually, she would just brush it all off with a smile and a “Don’t worry about it!”, that always fended off Caine. But when Caine’s onto something—in this case, her decline—he’ll never let go of it until something is done. 

She finally let out a long sigh. She feels she’ll feel a little better piling her problems on an AI rather than a friend. “Well, there’s the usual. NPCs not wanting to talk to me and getting stabbed at least once, but that’s more of a me problem than an adventure problem.” said Ragatha, “It’s... everything outside of it, honestly.”

“UH HUH...” Caine jotted down notes on a notebook, now wearing rectangular-shaped glasses that magnified his heterochromatic irises. “AND WHAT COULD THOSE ‘EVERYTHING’ BE?”

“Where to start?” Ragatha laughed, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Gangle’s very much finding an excuse to avoid me, Zooble’s being a grouch as usual, Kinger’s not all there, and don’t get me started on Jax!” She stopped herself, and took a deep, albeit shaky, breath. “And Pomni... God. All I want is for her to realize that I have feelings. What does she think she is, the main character? All she thinks about is herself, and nobody else.”

Ragatha clasped her hands over her eyes. Despite her words, her heart still beats for the jester. If Ragatha has to be honest, she’s not sure herself if she’s feeling the embers of attraction—or the desperation of wanting to be understood by the person who she has the least baggage with. “I just... I don’t know what to do at this point. I don’t have anyone to talk about this to—or anyone that I want to open up to.”

Every attempt at crawling out of the hole only sunk her deeper. Truthfully, she cannot see herself getting out of it. It might as well be her grave.

Caine put down the notebook. “SO, YOU’RE FEELING LONELY.” A huge oversimplification, yes, but he wasn’t incorrect. “OF COURSE I CAN DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT! GIVE YOU A TINY LITTLE FRIEND, LIKE THOSE ‘PETS’ THAT YOU PEOPLE LOVE SO MUCH!” He pressed close to Ragatha. “WHAT DO YOU WANT? A GLOINK? A SHMUNK? A CLUMPY?—”

“No, Caine!” Ragatha grunted. She doesn’t have the energy nor the patience to hide her annoyance right now. “I-I don’t want that! I need—ugh, what’s the point? You won’t understand either way.”

“I’M TRYING TO UNDERSTAND, RAGATHA!” Now even Caine’s getting miffed, throwing his hands at Ragatha’s direction as if she said something obscene. “I WANT TO HELP YOU, BUT I CAN’T DO THAT IF YOU’RE NOT LETTING ME!”

“Because I don’t want your help, alright?”

Silence fell over the room.

This turned out to not make her feel better in the slightest. She would appreciate it if Caine gave some words of reassurance or comfort—actually, comfort would be nice right now—but knowing him, he wouldn’t know what to say anyway. And Ragatha hates herself for putting that expectation on a robot, even if it was for a brief moment.

“I don’t want your help.” Ragatha repeated after a moment. “I appreciate that you want to, but... I think this is a problem I’ll have to deal with myself. You can just keep doing your adventuring stuff and all that.”

The silence only stretched longer, and Ragatha felt like the room was getting colder. Caine was just staring at her, his posture stiff; very unlike his usual animated self.

Then his teeth rattled.

This isn’t right. One of his members no longer likes his adventures, and he doesn’t know what to do about it! Sure, this isn’t too different from Zooble, who constantly skips out on the adventures, but that’s to be expected from Zooble. While the intervention made him (kind of) understand what Ragatha’s problem is, it didn’t get him any closer to fixing it.

He rattled his neurons for anything that could improve the situation, even a slightest bit. If Ragatha’s having problems with the other members, then he could...

“I GOT IT!” He snapped his fingers. “DON’T WORRY, YOU TERRIFIC TORTILLA, YOU’LL BE LONELY NO MORE AFTER THIS NEXT ADVENTURE!”

Ragatha’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? What are you—”

By Caine’s command, she was sent back to her room. The ringmaster’s already set on generating a new adventure. One that will surely bring everyone together.

Results of the intervention? Sure, the solution wasn’t as immediate as just giving Zooble a box of parts, but it was still a solution nonetheless. For now, he’s making something that will surely make his performers happy. Something that will definitely help with Ragatha’s problem.

He is going to fix this.

[brain--drop]

Creepypasta First Kiss Headcanons (PT 1)

It's been 84 years oml-// Includes: Jeff The Killer | Eyeless Jack | Ben Drowned

Jeff:

Although he'd never admit it, Jeff was beyond nervous for your first kiss as the two of you were lying down on the roof of a shed you'd spend the night at during your journey of getting back to the mansion.

It seemed to be set up perfectly. The chilly air of the night bringing the two of you closer for warmth, the sky clear to view the stars and the full moon. Ambience of crickets and no other distractions.

All it took was for Jeff to glance at you, seeing the moonlight cast lights and shadows to your face, and for you catch him staring that he leans in and plants a short and quick kiss on your lips.

"That...that was stupid. Stupid and gross. Forget it-"

As he sits up to get off the roof and leave, he stops when he feels your hand grab onto his hoodie sleeve. Your mouth opens to speak but nothing comes out as you grow flustered from the moment. Jeff raises an eyebrow and lifts your chin up to look at him, unable to hide a laugh from seeing your face.

"So I wasn't reading the signs wrong. You're just as stupid as me."

He laughs more at your offended reaction, cutting you off mid annoyed ramble as he kisses you again, longer and more sternly. Both of you definitely complain in sync once you get inside the shed to sleep on why you stayed outside kissing in the cold for so long afterwards.

EJ:

Not as romantic as the two of you hoped as it was when Jack was bandaging up your arm, having been slashed during training. Or really just a full on brawl as nearly everyone woke up on the wrong side of the bed that morning and choose to vent their frustrations.

Much to Jack's efforts in getting you out of the crossfire of violence, you still ended up getting hurt after getting a cut from Toby's axe swinging. Now, much to your efforts of reassuring him, Jack still had an irritated but worried look on his face judging from his knitted eyebrows.

"I don't like using unnecessary force, but I should've moved you out the way faster. Thank whoever's out there that it wasn't serious but it could've been worse and-"

Next thing he knows, his mouth is being silenced by warmth and he realizes it was your lips against his. When you pull back, the shocked silence between the two of you is enough to fluster you both completely.

More silence follows as he finishes patching you up and you end up leaving the makeshift med bay of the mansion with a quiet thanks.

You spend the rest of the day in fear you took it too far until it was the dead of night when a knock at your door disrupts your thoughts. Opening it, you see Jack make his way inside and cups your face in his hands as he closes the door with his foot.

"Let's try that one more time, my brain is working again."

Ben:

It's as cute and awkward as you can imagine it to be. Ben spends days, weeks even, to work up the courage to make the first move and kiss you. By this point, every creep in the mansion is annoyed at his nervous rants to them as he looks for advice and tells him to get on with it.

It took Jeff to half jokingly tell him "he'd do it if he doesn't" for him to get it together and follow through that night, mood and timing be damned.

Fortunately for his racing heart, you wanted nothing more than to have a simple movie night which involved Chicken Little.

While you were seemingly engrossed in the film, Ben's mind was running a mile a minute as he did every trick in the book. Scooting closer to you, wrapping a blanket around you two, yawning and putting his arm around your shoulder. Even he has to admit it was cringe.

His nerves got the best of him when he was trying to find a decent moment in the movie when it didn't matter if it was watched or not as he turns his head and sees you looking right at him because of his anxious behavior.

"...fuck it, I'm dead anyways."

He wastes no time presses his lips against yours, any tension in your bodies flooding away with the warmth as it becomes more comfortable. That is until you both hear the loud sound from the movie of the pig hitting the vending machine to which you pull away laughing. Grabbing the remote, Ben lowers the volume before leaning in again.

"Eh, we've already seen it. This is better though."

[motorsportbarbie13]

Hurricane - Part Four

{“I’ve uh…” Emma knows she should lie. Knows it’s in everyones best interest for her to lie but somewhere between Jimmy settling in her lap and the third insult on her intelligence, Emma has completely lost her ability to control her mouth. “I’ve been staying with Max while I get back on my feet.” “You’re sleeping with your boss?” Her mother screeches so loudly that Sassy goes skidding across the living room floor, tail puffed and terrified. “Jesus Christ! Mom! Are you for real right now?”}

warnings/notes: emma's mom is a *raging* bitch in this. alcohol consumption (poor coping skills ig) shoutout to my writing therapist @lestapiastrisgirl for always having my back <3 pairing: max verstappen x emma meyer (fem oc) word count: 6.6 k (jfc i can't shut UP about these two)

read hurricane on ao3 hurricane master list main master list ask me anything

Late afternoon sunlight spilled in through the floor to ceiling windows as Emma moved through the kitchen. They’d returned from Jeddah just last night, the brutal triple header having stolen so much from both Emma and Max, they had retreated to their bedrooms right after getting home. It had been nearly noon before either of them emerged the next day, with Max coming out first to make breakfast for the both of them. 

Breakfast between the Max and Emma on mornings when they were home had become somewhat of a tradition, a tradition that Emma was quickly becoming attached to. She didn’t allow that thought to full form in her head though. It was too dangerous. Too familiar to admit that she was getting attached to Max on more than a professional level. She didn’t want to admit the way she looked for him whenever she walked into a room. She didn’t want to admit how her heart pounded the entire time Max was in the car on the track and that she couldn’t fully settle until saw the checkered flag after a race and knew he’d be safely in the garage soon. 

Admitting any of that didn’t appeal to Emma at all, so she buried it all so deep down in her chest that there was no way it could ever surface. 

She tried to tell herself it was just kindness and convenience, this little breakfast tradition of theirs. Whoever woke up first would be the one to start the meal and Emma always made sure the fridge was stocked with bacon, eggs, and whatever fruit she thought Max might like that week. They hadn’t been doing it long but it was something that both of them looked forward to, even if neither put words to their feelings. Emma wasn’t willing to examine the fact that maybe Max did it because he wanted to take care of her and that she did it for the same exact reason. 

Shortly after the meal was cleaned up the morning after returning from Jeddah, Max had left in a flurry of athletic gear and gatorade, talking about playing Lando, Carlos, and Charles in a game of padel but that he’d be back in time for dinner and to text him what she wanted him to pick up from the market. 

Emma had drifted about the apartment for an hour or so after Max left, the exhaustion of being away from the only soft place she had to land had seeped deep in her bones somewhere between Bahrain and Jeddah. Everything she considered doing sounded like it required too much effort but guilt sat heavy in her chest in response to her desire to just relax. She knew Max wouldn’t mind, her not helping around the house. It wasn’t like the place was a disaster either but her idle hands felt wrong, like if she didn’t do something to productive she was ungrateful for everything Max had already done for her. 

Emma wanted to sit at the piano and play something but even that seemed to be too strenuous that day, her attention span for anything longer than a 15 second TikTok video was completely nonexistent. Emma was never sure how to handle days like this, the days where she was too tired to do much more than get up off the couch or do anything productive. These kinds of days had never been allowed in her home growing up. If you weren’t doing something productive or useful with your downtime, you were lazy. It was a mantra that was hammered into her consciousness so hard that even now, when she hadn’t lived at home for years, the words still haunted her. 

In the end, she had settled down on the couch before flipping through one of the dozens of streaming services Max had access to and settled on an old favorite: West Wing. Emma was half way through the episode where Mrs. Landingham was killed by a drunk driver in her brand new car, the anticipatory tears having started during the opening credits, when her phone buzzed to life. She half expected it to be Max telling her he’d decided to go out to dinner with the boys instead of coming home and that she was on her own for dinner but when she looked at the caller ID, her heart stuttered to a stop. 

MOM

“Of all the days for you to call…” Emma whispered, blowing out a breath. She spent several moments trying to decide if she had the strength to deal with her mother that afternoon. She knew the answer was ‘no’ but she’d been dodging her mom’s calls since before Japan so Emma knew it was time to face the music. 

As if he could sense her distress, Jimmy jumped up on the couch right as she answered, curling himself up into a ball in her lap and bumping her free hand with his head. Emma grinned down at the spotted cat. Max had insisted that Jimmy hated strangers and to not be surprised if he was quite standoffish but Jimmy had been nothing but sweet as sugar to Emma since day one. 

Much like his owner. 

Sliding the button on the screen of her phone, Emma lifted the device to her ear. “Hi Mom!” She tried to sound as happy as possible despite the aching exhaustion pulling at her extremities. 

“Emma, darling, how are you my dear?” The sickly sweet voice of her mother filled her ears, sending anxiety shooting down her spine. 

“I’m good, just trying to relax a bit.” 

“Ah, yes, I’m sure those girls you’re looking after run you quite ragged.” Something in her mother’s tone had Emma sitting up a bit straighter. She hadn’t lived through years of baiting and passive aggressive taunts to not recognize the beginnings of a fight brewing. 

“Well, about that…” Emma started, figuring there was no time like the present to fill her in on what had happened. Maybe her mother would surprise her and be on her side for once. 

“I had the most interesting discussion with Greta down the street this morning!” Her mother interrupts. 

Emma closes her eyes, dragging in a ragged breath. Clearly there was a reason for this call other than a friendly check in. These kinds of calls always came with an agenda set forth by Emma’s mother and Emma’s mother alone. She was helpless against it. The quicker she accepted that Gloria was in control of the call and she ws just alone for the ride, the quicker the call would be over and the sooner she could get back to crying over Mrs. Landingham. 

“Oh?” She asked reluctantly, knowing that this conversation has already been planned in advance and needed no help from Emma to move it along. 

“Yes! She said her and Frans were watching the Formula One race on Sunday evening and she said the funniest thing to me!” 

Emma’s heart stopped. Oh, here we go. 

Without waiting for a response, her mother continues. “She said that she swears she saw you at the race in one of the garages! I told her she must be mistaken because you were supposed to be in Monaco working the nanny job you insisted taking instead of returning to the school like your father and I had advised.” Her tone is light, innocent almost but Emma knows better. 

“Ah…well, Greta wasn’t wrong.” Emma’s stomach churns with anxiety as she fights to find the words. “I was in Jeddah for the race on Sunday.” 

Emma’s mother makes a small noise of surprise, even though Emma is fairly certain the surprise is feigned. “How nice of the family to give you the time off so quickly after starting a job!” She observes. 

Emma knows this is a trap but there’s nothing she can do about it but continue on. “Actually, I don’t work for the Dubois anymore, mom.” 

“Emma Jane Meyer, what are you talking about?” She asks sharply. 

There it was. The facts that her mother had been fishing for plainly stated and out in the open. Emma manages to stifle the heaving sigh she wants to let loose but she knows that’s a dangerous move, especially when her mother is out hunting for reasons to be angry.

 “It just didn’t work out mom, the family weren’t who they presented themselves to be.” 

On the other end of the phone, Emma’s mother makes a disapproving tutting sound that almost certainly was accompanied by a roll of her eyes. “Well then, why aren’t you back home? How are you living in Monaco of all places without a job?” 

“I do have a job, mom.” Emma learned long ago that short answers were the best way to deal with Gloria. 

“Oh!” The genuine surprise at the exclamation has a heavy weight settling itself directly on Emma’s chest, making it difficult for her to breathe. “Well, that’s certainly an improvement on where my mind was going!” God, Gloria was always so supportive. “Well, go on then, what are you doing? Did you find another teaching job that quickly? I’m surprised the family didn’t reach out to the school to let them know of your…record.” 

White hot searing pain slices at Emma’s heart as she sits there, listening to the surprise and backhanded compliments she had always been so intimately acquainted with. Emma can’t let her mom see that she’s gotten to her. She can never show that kind of weakness or she gets eaten alive. 

“Do you remember Victoria’s brother Max? I’m working as his personal assistant.” 

“All those years spent in university and you’re an assistant?” The way her mother says ‘assistant’ makes it sound like Emma was selling her body on the streets for drugs.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Emma closes her eyes. “It’s a good job mom. Max is busy and he needed the help. I’ve been to Japan, Bahrain, Cyprus and Saudi Arabia in the last three weeks alone. It’s actually a really good opportunity for me.” 

Gloria is silent for a beat, as if she’s struggling to find a chink in Emma’s existence. “He’s that racing car driver, yes?” 

“Yes, mom.” Emma fights the exhaustion that’s begging for her to be impatient and short with her mother because deep down, she knows it wouldn’t change anything anyway. “He drives Formula 1 cars for a living. That’s why Greta and Frans saw me on tv. I attend all the races with him and was watching him from the garage on Sunday.” 

“Well, what do you know about racing cars, Emma Jane?” The question is accusatory, as if she had somehow tricked Max into hiring her too. 

“Nothing, mother.” 

But she knew Max, and that was enough for her to care about something so foreign to her. 

“Then why in the world did he hire you?” 

Emma has to hold the phone away from her face for a moment, staring at the device like it was going to sting her. Why was she even entertaining this?

“I don’t know mother. Max is patient and the work I do is really racing adjacent. I don’t have to know about tire deg and sector times when all I do is manage his inbox and book his travel.” 

“Have you managed to find an apartment then? I’d imagine the Dubois didn’t allow you to stay. Max is certainly able to pay you well.” The speed at which Gloria changes the subject when she runs out of ammunition makes Emma’s head swim. 

“I’ve uh…” Emma knows she should lie. Knows it’s in everyones best interest for her to lie but somewhere between Jimmy settling in her lap and the third insult on her intelligence, Emma has completely lost her ability to control her mouth. “I’ve been staying with Max while I get back on my feet.” 

“You’re sleeping with your boss?” Her mother screeches so loudly that Sassy goes skidding across the living room floor, tail puffed and terrified. 

“Jesus Christ! Mom! Are you for real right now?” 

“Well, you quit your teaching job with no notice to take a nannying job, which you promptly got fired from and are now shacking up with the man who signs your paychecks! I don’t know if I’d recognize you if I passed you on the street, Emma Jane!” 

“Oh for the love…” Emma whispers more to herself than to Gloria. “I can’t do this anymore.” She continues, louder now so her mother can hear. “When you want to have a clam, adult conversation you know where to find me.” Emma finally snaps, stabbing at the red End button without waiting for a reply. 

The silence that floods the room should feel soothing after the barbed words being exchanged moments before but as Emma leans back into the overstuffed couch, Jimmy managing to be brave enough to climb into her lap again, Emma feels anything but soothed. She had tried so hard to be neutral, to not give into the baiting that she knew was the goal the entire time but once again, she had failed. 

As Emma scratched between Jimmy’s ears, she couldn’t help but wonder if she had finally reaching the breaking point with her mother. 

***

Emma was angry.

Max could hear it. 

It wasn’t sobs or shouting that he heard as he returned from padel later that evening though. No, that wasn’t how Max knew Emma was angry. He knew she was angry because the sound floating out of the apartment was loud and angry, the epitome of heat and anguish in musical form. 

The piece Emma poured over while he quietly set his things down in the kitchen was sharp, short, and exasperated. It’s rough, ragged, and raw, the way Emma was sorting her way though whatever had happened while he’d been gone. As he settled into the living room, he made enough noise so Emma knew that he was back but not enough to distract. 

This had become sort of a routine in the short time she’d been staying with him. In the evenings when they were both relaxing, Emma would sit down at the piano and work through whatever she was feeling that day and Max would quietly sit on the couch or slip into his sim rig on the opposite side of the living room, volume down, so he could race and listen to her music. 

Tonight was different though. He’d never heard her play like this before and the moment he settled on the couch, Jimmy instantly bounding over to him to curl up in his lap, he knew she was working through something that he wanted to be around for. 

While Emma hadn’t been working for him long, and living with him for just a bit longer, the nature of their jobs forced them together for long hours in stressful situations over and over again for weeks on end so Max felt like he’d had a good enough chance to get to know Emma, to be able to read her well. It was sometime in between Japan and Bahrain that Max noticed how she avoided any talk of her parents or her past. If the subject of home came up, she deftly dodged any questions asked of her and even when they were alone, Emma remained quiet and careful. It was almost as if she was walking around afraid to get into trouble despite being incredibly competent at her job and a fully capable adult. 

Max got glimpses of her though, the Emma that tucked herself away behind heavily fortified walls that no one was allowed to breech. On nights like these, nights like the quiet ones they’d had in Cyprus between the races in Bahrain and Jeddah, Max got to know Emma better through how she played the piano. He knew how precious those moments were because in those little glimpses when she let her walls tumble down around her, Max saw her. Saw the hurt, the anger, the rejection but he also saw the hope, the commitment, the passion she had. Emma revealed so much of herself while her fingers danced over the keys when she played while he listened, more than she probably realized. 

It was easy to pick up on the anger radiating off of her body that evening not only because Max knew her but because Max understood the anger. He’d heard it, felt it in his own body time and time again. Knew the hurt of disappointing parents with high expectations. Knew what the anger felt like because he’d dealt with that last week in Jeddah after his penalty on Oscar which had cost him the race. 

He knew she was angry because he recognized the same demons in Emma that he was fighting with on a daily basis. 

The piece ended a few minutes after Max had settled into the couch, the silence blanketing the dimly lit Monaco apartment. Warm yellow lights cast a golden glow over the two of them as Emma sat at the bench for a few moments, flexing her fingers and staring at the sheet music in front of her. 

“You okay over there, Sunshine?” 

Emma’s heart fluttered at the nickname Max had started using in the last few weeks. The nickname she was desperately trying not to like. The breath she filled her lungs with was ragged but getting everything out of her body was so cathartic Emma almost felt steadied. “I think so.” She replied softly. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Emma turned to face Max for the first time since she’d sensed him in the living room with her. She appreciated the way he was just loud enough to ensure he didn’t startle her anymore but was never so overtly there that she was distracted. Max is still dressed for padle, although his dark blond hair is still a touch damp, so Emma assumes he had showered at the club. The way his icy blue eyes watch her with a quiet confidence has Emma nodding despite the way she wants to shut down. Vulnerability was never rewarded in her house growing up so opening up to someone like Max was a terrifying prospect. 

Max pats the couch cushion next to him as a grin stretches across his face, rewarding her for her bravery. When she settles down beside him, Emma brings her knees up to her chest before circling her arms around them so she’s tucked into a protected ball.

It takes an amazing feat of strength for Max not to reach out and pull her into his lap. 

“What happened?” He asks quietly when she doesn’t offer up an explanation to the distress still rolling off of her in waves. 

“My mother happened.” She replies lightly, almost as if it’s a joke and it all clicks into place for Max with just those three words. 

Max sits and listens as Emma recounts the entire nightmare story from beginning to end. With each sentence, each quote from her mother, Max’s chest tightens and his blood pressure risees. As Emma tells her story though, she finds herself feeling lighter with each word that passes her lips. She’s never spoken to anyone other than Victoria about her upbringing, about how her parents treated her as an afterthought and a burden. It was never something she liked talking about because talking about it meant making it real. And making it real meant admitting that she was so unlovable that even her own parents didn’t want her. 

With each bit of story she releases, Emma sinks a little bit deeper into Max’s side. He doesn’t notice it at first, neither of them do, but when she tells him how she ended up hanging up on Gloria after she accused her of sleeping with Max, he looks over to see her head nestled gently on his shoulder. His arm goes around her shoulders instinctively, only seeking to comfort her and offer a silent word of thanks for entrusting him with what Max knows is a difficult story to tell. 

After a few moments of silence, Emma rises again and approaches the piano. Max watches curiously as she sits back down on the bench, fingers stretching out for the keys once again. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, does the piano sound better than it did that first day?” He asks, trying to distract from the heavy feeling that hangs in the air still. 

Emma looks at him, head tilted like she’s surprised at the question. “You know what, it is.” She says after a beat. 

Max nods, satisfied grin hitching up at the corner of his mouth. “Good. I asked Charles to send over his piano guy to tune it while we were gone. I’ll let him know you approve.”  

Emma’s mouth drops open a bit at bit of information Max drops on her. “You…what?” 

Max looks at her and shrugs. “You said it was out of tune and so I wanted to fix it for you.” 

“You really are one of a kind, Verstappen.” She says with a shake of her head before turning back to the piano to play Clair de lune, something she knows is one of Max’s favorites. 

***

Max wasn’t sure how he’d done it but after an hour or two of cajoling, he’d gotten Emma to agree to go out with him, and the crew he’d played padle with that afternoon. He knew she needed it, could read it in the way her eyes went stormy and unfocused when she had been attempting to make dinner, the phone call from her mom still digging their cruel talons into her memory. 

Usually Emma fluttered around the kitchen while she was cooking, a quiet confidence radiating off of her while she deftly prepped whatever meal she’d been inspired to make that day. Max found himself sitting at the counter more often than not whenever she was in the kitchen, mesmerized by the way she moved around in the space that usually sat empty and silent, even when he was home. The way she seemed to know exactly what to start prepping, when to put something in the oven or in the pan, what seasonings to use without consulting a recipe most of the time. It was all fascinating to Max, who probably would’ve messed up boiling a pot of water. 

Tonight was different though. 

The pots clattered against each other just a bit louder than normal as she searched for the right one to sear the salmon Max had picked up at the market on his way home. Her movements as she chopped up the lemons for the sauce were stiffer than usual, more forced and stilted, compared to the smooth confidence he was used to from her. 

There weren’t big, body wracking sobs or tears, just quiet tight shoulders and less chatter as she worked to get dinner ready.

 He knew that she needed to get out of her head to escape the constant press of anger and anxiety because he’d been there and knew he’d go there again before the season was finished. Figuring out how to help Emma gave him hope that maybe he’d be able to pull himself out of his own spiral the next time it happened.

So when Max saw that familiar, long distance look in her eye he had called for a night out. She hadn’t been out in weeks, he reasoned, needed a chance to blow off some steam, didn’t she? There had been a quiet flicker of something on her face as Max stood in the kitchen telling her how she’d love Jimmy’z, how Charles and Lando and Carlos had been asking after her earlier that afternoon. She’d tried to argue that she didn’t have anything to wear that would be appropriate for a night out in Monaco but Max hadn’t bought that, insisting that anything she had in her closet would look perfect. 

“I’m not above begging, Sunshine.” Max had crooned as he put the last pan away after washing it by hand.

He didn’t miss the way she blushed at the nickname he’d become accustomed to calling lately.   

“Okay! Fine! You win.” She had laughed eventually, rolling her eyes but Max saw that smile creeping slowly across her face, bright and genuine. “It would be embarrassing to have to tell the boys how you got on your knees in front of me.” 

Max had gone pink at the image Emma’s words conjured in his mind. 

The image of him down on his knees for her was nothing compared to the images that popped into his mind the moment Emma stepped out of her bedroom an hour after agreeing to a night out. Her platinum blonde hair was twisted up in some sort of complicated braid situation creating a crown around of her head. Emma rarely wore her hair completely up but Max considered threatening another begging session to get her to wear it pulled back like that more often. The way it was swept up and out of her face showed off the long lines of her neck in such a dangerous way, Max’s grip on the marble countertop in front of him tightened painfully just looking at her and he hadn’t even gotten past her neck. 

The dangerously short lace dress that hugged curves Max hadn’t been aware she possessed fit her so sinfully well, his mouth ran dry. 

He must have been starting at the Ferrari red dress a little too hard because when Emma got closer, her face clouded with anxiety. “What?” She asked, awkwardly tugging at the spot where the fabric tightened around her hip. “Is it too much?” Emma huffed before dropping the sky high black heels in her hands down on the floor, the shoes clattering noisy against the tiled floor. “I knew it was too much. I’ll go change.” 

Emma made an attempt to turn around and retreat back to her bedroom but was stopped when Max surged forward, hands reaching for her without even thinking. He swore his fingers burned when they found the bare skin of her elbow. “You look good, Em! Perfect for Jimmy’z, I swear.” 

Emma flushed so deeply her cheeks nearly matched the red in her dress. “Yeah?” She murmured, slipping her feet into the heels in front of her. 

Max nods, “Yes, Sunshine. I promise.” 

She doesn’t look totally convinced but enough so that she continues back towards her bedroom. “Okay.” 

“You ready then?” 

He tries not to groan when Emma catches her bottom lip between her teeth, brows pinching together as if she’s already having second thoughts. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” She says, nerves evident in the way she shrugs as if she’s not the most gorgeous person Max has ever seen in his entire life. 

“Perfect. Let’s go then.” 

***

Max regretted agreeing to this, he decided shortly after they arrived at Jimmy’z. The moment Lando had spotted Emma across the dance floor, his grin had gotten much too wolfish for Max’s liking. It got even worse as Emma weaved her way across the crowded club with him right behind her, his hand low on her back as he guided her through the crush of bodies. It felt like every single head in the darkened room swiveled in her direction, following her every move as if she were the sun and they were plants reaching towards her warmth. 

“Gentlemen!” Emma greeted, seemingly totally unaware of the effect she was having on every male in the room, including his friends. 

Lando stood first, opening his arms for a hug that Emma freely gave. “You look…” Lando’s gaze raked over Emma’s body and Max had to physically restrain himself from punching the McLaren driver. “Stunning tonight.” 

Emma went pink, ducking her head against the compliment Max knows she’s going to struggle to accept. “Thanks, Lan.” She murmurs and Max’s pulse stutters at the nickname. 

Carlos is Max’s next victim, taking Emma into his arms in a friendly hug but it sits all wrong in Max’s chest just the same. “So glad you agreed to come out with us tonight, Emma.” 

The casual kiss on the cheek Emma gives Carlos has Max seeing red. He clenches his jaw, forcing a tight smile onto his face as Emma’s passed to Charles. 

“You look good in Ferrari red, love. Maybe you should watch the next race from my garage.” Charles says, kissing her on both cheeks before he smirks over at Max’s murderous face. 

“Never going to happen, Charles.” Max grits out as Emma slips into the booth next to Lando. He slides into the booth on her other side, shooting Charles a glare that is meant to be intimidating. 

Charles just grins over his glass as he takes the seat across from the trio, beside Carlos. 

Max ignores it and dips his head towards Emma, the scent of her vanilla and spice perfume wrapping itself around his senses. “Do you want me to get you a drink?” 

Emma shakes her head before pointing towards Lando’s retreating frame, already making a beeline across the room towards the bar. “Lando’s got it, but thanks Max.” She chirps before leaning back into the plush leather booth. 

Max desperately shoves down the white hot sear of jealous that flashes in his chest. He listens quietly as Charles pulls Emma into a conversation he refuses to be a part of, focusing instead on the way her knee keeps touching his ever so casually. Every time he feels the press of her leg against his, he swears his heart stutters to a stop. 

Lando returns quickly, two glasses clutched tightly in his hands. “One double cran for the prettiest girl in Monaco.” He flirts, grinning like a schoolboy when he sees the muscle flutter in Max’s jaw. 

Max knows Lando’s MO. He’s seen it time and time again. He’s all charm and pretty words, designed to get his target to tumble into bed with him. Usually Max just rolls his eyes at his friends antics but with Emma it’s different. He feels…needlessly possessive and for someone who’s always gone out of his way to remain emotionally unavailable and unattached, it’s an unsettling feeling. 

Emma doesn’t belong to you, Max gently reminds himself. She’s his assistant, nothing more. She’s a grown woman who can choose who she wants to spend time with freely. Max just wished it was with him and not his on-track rival.  It was none of his business, truly and as he sat listening to Lando make Emma laugh he repeated that mantra over and over in his head. 

The conversations flows just as easily as the drinks do with the bottle service girls making several visits to the table, refilling the glasses as quickly as they’re drained. Emma is definitely tipsy by the time she finishes her third drink, the light dinner they’d shared a few hours earlier doing nothing to help slow the grip the alcohol has on her mood. Her laughter comes easier, a little louder than usual and she’s leaning into the Lando’s side with every sip that she takes. The way she’s returning Lando’s flirty banter, teasing him with the same energy he’s giving her, has Max’s jaw clenching. 

Suddenly, the DJ starts spinning a more sensual song, one that has Emma swaying back and forth before she downs her latest drink. Lando turns to Emma, a charming grin spreading across his face. “I’ve had enough chatting to last me the rest of the season. Dance with me?” 

He doesn’t even wait for a response before he’s standing and grabbing Emma’s hand. “It doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice!” She quips but gets up regardless, following Lando out of the VIP area and onto the dance floor. 

Max watches Emma go, hips swinging back and forth with her hand captured tightly in Lando’s as they disappear into the crowd. His knuckles go white around his gin and tonic watching the McLaren driver turn Emma around on the dance floor, his hands landing low on her hips as he pulls her into him. Her body is loose from the alcohol and she wraps her arms around Lando’s neck as easy as breathing. 

He watched, stony glare on his face, as Emma stepped even closer into Lando’s grasp. Her hips swayed in time to the music that thrummed through Max’s chest. The bass thumping in time to the beat of Lando’s hands exploring all the parts of Emma Max wished were his alone. 

“You’re going to give yourself lockjaw if you keep clenching that hard.” Charles remarks, amused smily kicking up at the corner of his mouth. 

“What?” Max’s eyes dart back towards Charles, mouth thinning into a straight line. 

“You’re trying to kill Lando with those daggers you’re shooting from your eyes.” Carlos observes, taking another sip of his drink, eyes bright with mischief. 

“I don’t know what you two are talking about. They’re just dancing.” 

“Uh huh.” Charles murmurs, though he sounds unconvinced. 

“It’s not like I own her, she’s just my assistant.” 

Charles snorts softly, rolling his eyes. “You haven’t stopped staring at her since you both walked through the door.” 

Max flicks his gaze back to where Lando and Emma still connected in every place that mattered on the dance floor. “She had a rough day, I’m just concerned.” 

“So that’s what we’re calling it these days? Concer? Because it reads more like obsession.” Carlos teases as he turns to watch the couple on the dance floor.  

Max shoots Carlos a look that has him grinning over the rim of his drink, brows rising into his hairline. The three men continue to drink in silence, Max not so subtly watching Lando paw at Emma opening, Charles and Carlos watching their the steam practically pour from their friends ears. 

As the song ends, Lando takes Emma’s hand and leads her back towards the booth. He slides in first, then, with a playful tug on her hand, pulls Emma down onto his lap. Emma laughs, bright and slightly breathless. It’s a sound that Max is used to only hearing when it’s aimed at him. Her eyes flick almost imperceptibly towards Max, a subtle fleeting glance to gauge his reaction. 

Max, jaw still tight, offers no reaction. He can’t. Refuses to give Lando the satisfaction and Emma a clue as to the storm roiling inside him. She’s vulnerable, drunk, and reeling from a difficult fight with her mother, now is not the time nor the place to get into a possessive pissing match with one of his best friends. So instead, he stares ahead, his expression carefully neutral, focusing on the flashing lights across the room as if they held the secrets of the universe. 

Seeing his response, a mischievous glint sparkles in Emma’s eye. She leans in close to Lando, her hand resting lightly on his arm to whisper in his ear, “I wore such a pretty dress just for Max and he’s barely looked at me all night” 

Lando doesn’t have to see her face to know Emma’s practically pouting. 

Normally, she wouldn’t share such a confession with anyone but the alcohol Emma’s consumed that night has her lips loose and her desire for Max ratcheted up a notch. Lando throws his head back, chuckling, his arm tightening around her waist. He didn’t mind being a means to an end for a night, especially if it meant cuddling up with a woman like Emma. 

Max doesn’t hear a single word she says but the sight of her whispering so intimately in Lando’s ear, the easy familiarity of their closeness, sends a primal wave of jealousy surging through his veins. His vision narrowed, the edges blurring a bit as his mind goes wild with speculation on what she could have been whispering in his ear. There was a feral growl building in his chest, a possessive rage that threatened to erupt. Max wanted to yank Emma away from Lando, right up off his lap, throw her over his shoulder and take her home where he fucked her so good she never wanted to look at another man ever again. He wanted to stake his claim. Wipe that sums grin off of his friends face. The causal touch, the shared secret, the blatant disregard for his presence. It was all too much. 

Max was on the verge of losing it and all he could do was sit there and take it.

The night continued on, the music pounding, the conversation blurring into a general hum that resembled a hive of hornets. Emma, despite her earlier energy from earlier, was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol and the emotional rollercoaster of the day. The vibrant energy of the club was beginning to feel like an overwhelmingly heavy warm woolen blanker: too warm and too heavy all over, all at once. 

Max watched from his place in the booth as she disentangled herself from Lando’s comfortable hold, a soft smile on her face. “Thanks for the seat, Lan.” 

Lando grinned up at her, boyish dimples winking up at her from the corner of his mouth. “Anytime, Emmy. Anytime.” 

Emma rolled her eyes at the nickname as her gaze drifted towards Max. He was sitting in the same spot he’d been in all night, still nursing the same drink from earlier. He watched as she took a few wobbly, tired steps to the other side of the table before slipping into the booth beside him. Her perfume, thick with the sweet scent of vanilla and cinnamon mixed with the smell of the vodka she’d been drinking that night, flooded Max’s nose. 

“Hi.” She breathed, head coming to rest into the crook of Max’s neck. 

He straightened, surprised by this sudden closeness after a night spent watching Lando paw at her. Max looked down, chin brushing the smooth silk of her hair as he battled the urge to bury his nose in the locks. 

“Everything okay, Sunshine?” He asked, voice gruff. 

Emma scooted closer, so that her thigh was pressed into his and their shoulders were overlapping. “Yeah, I’m just getting a little tired, I think. Everything just kind of hit me all at once.” She gave a small, whiny sigh, burrowing her head even deeper into his neck. 

Max stiffened, knowing that Charles, Carlos and Lando were watching them with curious stares but also realizing Emma was overly uninhibited at the moment. He didn’t want to push her away but he also didn’t want to cause a scene, knowing that both would certainly lead to Emma feeling embarrassed. 

“Can you take me home now?” She asked sleepily. 

Max blinked, his breath catching in the back of his throat. “Home?” 

Emma nodded, eyes fluttering shut despite the loud chaos of the club pulling just beyond their bubble. “Yeah. It’s just…my bed sounds really good right now and I kind of want to cuddle with Jimmy and Sassy before I fall asleep.” 

Max’s heart clenched painfully. 

“Yeah, of course.” He stood slowly, guiding Emma along with him. Her body sagged into his grasp as Emma stumbled a bit. 

“Oops!” She giggled before reaching back to snatch her clutch from the table. “I’m going to pilates at 9am tomorrow, do either of you want to come with me?” She asked Lando and Charles while leaning heavily into Max’s side. 

All three men exchanged glances before nodding, smirks on their faces. “Sure, Emmy.” Lando chuckled, knowing that there was no way Emma would be out of bed anywhere close to 9am. 

“See you guys later.” Max said before slipping his arm around Emma’s waist and turning her towards the door. She was sober enough to make it to the door herself but unsteady on her feet enough that she leaned into Max’s side the entire walk to his car. 

Tag List: @shelbyteller, @martygraciesversion381, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @llando4norris @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso @rbv3rstappen @ilovechickenwings @guaaafiiburg @mcmuppet @mindless-rock @piastri-fvx @mel164 @schumi-angel @myescapefromthislife @supertrashbread @sunny44 @tinystudentblaze-stuff @sarx164 @xoxomansee

[gothamite-rambler]

On a dreary Tuesday morning, the manor was quiet. Jason and Stephanie were trying out different handshakes, Bruce was reading news articles on his phone, Dick was making flavored water, and Kory was leaving the bedroom upstairs, fully dressed.

Stephanie (slapping hands with Jason): You're going too fast!

Jason (increasing the speed of the patty cake): Move faster!

Kory: I have an announcement to make, and it's best if Bruce is here because he knows he can't stop me with what I'm about to ask.

Bruce: Keep thinking that.

Kory sighed, annoyed by Bruce, then walked over to her boyfriend and took his hand. He smiled, ready to hear what she had to say.

Kory: Dickie bird, if you wanted me to, who would you like me to kill for wronging you?

Stephanie (turning to Kory): Yas queen, slay!

Jason laughed at the request, while Dick's eyes widened in shock.

Dick (taken back): What?

Bruce (shocked): What did she just ask?

Kory: I can explain. Dick has told me about specific figures who haven’t been properly dealt with. I know how you all feel about not killing, which I respect, but some people who hurt good people deserve to rot. Plus, I’m an alien princess; I can do this and not get arrested.

Jason and Stephanie: Aww.

Bruce: Don’t “aww” that! You don’t have diplomatic immunity, Starfire!

Kory: You have no idea if I do, Bruce.

Dick: Kory, Kory, Bruce’s opinion doesn’t matter right now. I… where is this coming from?

Kory: I was thinking about you the other night and how kind and strong you are. The man you've become, despite the trauma you've endured and being raised by Batman, which must have been hellish at times. Did I use "hellish" right?

Jason: Yeah, you did.

Stephanie: Right on the money.

Bruce: Why am I being insulted in the middle of this conversation?

Kory: Shush. Dick, I love you so much. I adore you, but knowing what those people have done to you while walking free fills me with the rage of a thousand warriors. I want to right those wrongs. I couldn't annihilate all my abusers, but I can do that for yours.

Dick: Jason, did you put her up to this?

Jason: I mentioned how you don’t want me to kill your enemies. Kory respects your desire not to kill, but she’s also rightfully pissed that you’ve dealt with so many terrible people. That’s why we’re still friends.

Kory (giving Dick's hand a gentle squeeze): Dick, I will respect your wishes as I have in the past, but I thought asking first was the best idea. So, what do you say?

Bruce: Dick, if I may—

Stephanie (tossing a muffin at Bruce): No, you may not! Continue, lovebirds.

Dick: Kory, like I told Jason, I appreciate your willingness to kill for me, but I don’t want that. Them living miserable lives is all I need. When I ignore their existence, I’m winning. Plus, you’re not on Tamaran anymore. You don’t have to kill your enemies to succeed.

Kory: That’s very true. I just feel there’s something I can do to avenge you.

Dick: The love and support you give me is enough. I love you so much, and I’d beat anyone who hurt you within an inch of their lives, but I’d rather make them live. Torture can be very effective.

Bruce: (mumbling) I really need to stop teaching you guys that.

Kory: Very well, I can see the benefit of letting them live and suffer. But this might make you happy to hear: I visited Talia al Ghul a few days ago and challenged her to a duel. She lost but lived, and I got this gold ring as a prize. Here you go.

Kory handed Dick the solid gold ring. His eyes widened in shock at the prize won in battle against his sworn enemy. He bit his bottom lip, feeling overwhelmed.

Dick: This is enough. This avenged me.

Bruce: I should probably deal with that… after I finish my coffee.

Dick and Kory hugged and kissed while Bruce sipped his coffee, slowly. Jason left grossed out by the PDA couple, and Stephanie snapped a quick picture with her phone.

Stephanie: You think I can find a partner who will battle my sworn enemy and bring me back jewelry? Oh wait, Cass might do that in two years.

Bruce (pointing to the doorway while reading an article on his phone): Leave.

Stephanie walked out of the kitchen, laughing. Meanwhile, Bruce continued reading a news report on his phone about Batman saving the day yet again, while Kory and Dick went off to spend some time together.

[slippinninque]

🎙️Wings and Two-Steppin'💐

Elias "Stack" Moore x  supernatural!blackfemreader 

warning: MINORS DNI, 18+, cursing, sensual themes, mentions of sex, mentions of desire, drinking/alcohol, supernatural!black!femreader!(Think earth/forest elemental) , long-fic, vibe fic didn't watch the movie but I have been moved 😅

The night was beautiful and you were finally able to find some good music.

You were somewhere between the moon and stars, the winds beneath your wings playful and thick as it carried you from state-wind to state-wind. When the sound of happy breathing, heavy shoes, and string picking got up to you–you looked for a place to land.

Feeling more and more solid as you traded your wings for paws, you searched amongst the warm little homes for what you needed. There were mothers and children gathered around rocking chairs, reading from a thick book made up of pages that reminded you of butterfly wings. In the yard with the tasty yams, you nipped at the clothes on the line for whichever felt like leaving with you.

Trotting with your prize, you tried to think of how to fit it again. It took a while since you’ve been anything but wild, but you knew some times were better had when you had thumbs. The dress fit good enough and you shook out the bramble shocking cloud and downpour that was your locs and coils. 

The whole time that lively music followed you. You’d reckon you were a few miles off but now that you had feet–you couldn’t keep them from dancing either way. The only time you paused was when you caught sight of your skin, deep and brown as healthy soil and mahogany.

It wasn’t long before you saw the joint, standing and vibrating with all the good time that was going on inside. You lingered at the treeline, mostly behind the leaves as you watched folk flow in and out of its doors. 

The excitement made your tongue tight, you whispered a few of the words you knew by heart to loosen your voice. You've speaking wild for so long, you weren't sure what words were People anymore.

There was a gleam that caught your eye followed by a smooth laugh that made your skin goose. You caught a sweet-husky scent of liquor and honey, caught the edge of maroon vanishing through the side door of the proud structure.

There. That’s where you wanted to be.

Peering around first, you shadowed yourself along the ground. Leaping and hopping to those who lingered outside to enjoy a smoke with the cool air. The last fella was a bit wobbly but luckily he used the wall to steady yourself so you could step off into the dark side of the juke joint. 

It wasn’t very much seeing that got you around, but feeling. You felt along the edges until you were able to bleed beneath the same door your good time went through.

The only problem was that now you didn’t know where you were. Things were put up on shelves and boxes, jars and jars of some stuff made your nose twitch. Looking around, you wondered if there was anything tasty enough to tempt you but all you could find was more of that river-clear stuff in pretty bottles of glass. 

You were running your fingers along the raised lettering, turning to find your prize when you knocked into the softest tree you’ve ever met. 

“Whatchu doin’ in here, girl?”

An unsmiling man looked down at you, plumes blowing from his nose like an angry bull. HIs eyes were like twin obsidian as they skipped over your form. Watching him back, he reminded you of one of those smooth river stones with how pretty brown and blue he was.

You tilted your head and considered his exciting smell. Close, but not quite. Almost-right. 

He raised his brows, waiting for an answer, “Where you comin’ from?”

“Above…”

The man reared back as if you shouted but you only smiled sheepishly at your garbled voice. So maybe you should have practiced a little longer before speaking to anyone. 

The man’s head tilted back at you, he stepped closer to look down at you more closely. When his eyes got stuck on the mess of flowers and moss that was curling up your ankles from where you stood, you wiggled your toes.

Liking the attention, you preened as surely he was taking in the pretty flowers that had begun to bloom along your hairline. 

“Move aside, Smoke.” 

“Annie…”

“Move, go’on.” 

A beautiful woman came from the corner shadows, eyes kind and fixed on you. The man lingered but stepped aside as she said, Annie. She glowed from her center, familiar in the way that the moon was. Turning to her and taking her offered hand, you no longer cared for the almost-right beside you.

This woman smelled like the almost-right but there was the ocean beneath her skin, the yawning night sky beneath her tongue. She reminded you of where you came from.

“What’s it that you need?” Annie asked warmly. Relief washed over you once you realized there was someone who understood. You buried yourself into her, Annie chuckling in surprise as you sighed at the warmth of her. She wrapped her arms around you in a solid hug and it felt like your hearts were doing the same in greeting. 

You looked to the man who watched you more carefully now that you were in Annie’s arms and pointed to his face. Then you pointed out the door, blinking insistently. 

“Ah, I see.” Annie looked over to the Smoke man, “Y’know who she wants.”

“What she gonna do to him?”

 Annie gave your cheek a soft pinch, and raised her brows high as she looked in your eyes. She spoke in a tone that was both kind and stern. 

“She’s gonna take it easy on ‘em and bring him back home like the lady she is.”

Laughing, you reached up and tapped her nose in agreement. Annie Ocean was right, of course, you only wanted to make good use of this form and chase this age old itch of yours. 

There was a whoop of applause from the other side of the door you saw beyond Annie. Sounds like the music was changing from the jovial, upbeat twang to something that made your hips swim. Smoke Man and Annie Ocean exchanged a few more words you didn’t care to hear as you heard the beating hearts and lungs of the crowd on the other side. When you went to take a step, Smoke Man took one as well to block you.

“Hol’ on now.” He held up a hand then took away a pair of old boots that Annie Ocean found in the corner. She came to take your hands as Smoke Man knelt down to help your feet into the boots. Your nose wrinkled but it was clearly a stipulation, but when Annie wrinkled hers back in jest–you laughed.

Smoke Man muttered about something being fucking wild as he stood from doing up your laces.

“Should hold for now.” He tipped his hat to you then looked to his woman. Annie took your hand into her arm, like a sister in wings, and escorted you towards the door. Before she opened it, she leaned in to steal a bloom from your hair and say,

“Have a good time y’hear me?” 

You gave her a wide grin, a kiss on the cheek, then set out into the joint. 

In there, apparently it didn't matter that you weren't dressed so smartly or didn’t speak. You found yourself being held and spun, shot up and thrown over backwards. There were big wide hands that held onto your hips, full lips brushing against your ear. Slender, pretty hands holding onto your shoulders to show you how to watch their feet.

You had a sip of something from someone’s cup and it lit you up. Lightening water, you called it. 

Inside the deep river of bodies that waved and lapped at each other, you lost yourself. Black and Brown, beautiful, so full of joy and of life. The scene settled like good supper in your stomach. It wasn’t long before blooms were bursting from between your toes and soles, stuffing until your boots were a perfect fit.

After being away from a body like this for so long, trading your wings for feet, dancing was like discovering how to laugh all over again. You felt the eyes you wanted on you from different corners of the room. Getting closer and closer still, remaining just out of reach just to admire you. 

That gleam, though. Settled in between a winning crew of teeth, you couldn’t ever shake your interest in the things that shone. There he was, right there and all wrapped up in that want that you could smell from beneath the canopy of desire and lust blanket over the juke joint. 

It’s funny how he looked just like the Smoke Man but in the way that the hot, clay sands meet cool blue waters. This man smiled like he didn’t care if you said his name or not, he walked towards you like he only wanted to know yours, this man was just right. 

A hand took yours, leading you to the shore of the back wall. You still saw a kaleidoscope of smiles and felt the cascade of the crowd's previous caresses. A big hand took hold of your jaw. You gasped as you looked into familiar, smoldering eyes.

Finally...

“Now, I see every face that come up in here–why didn’t I see yours 'til now?”

Shrugging, you looked into his mouth at those pearly whites and gold caps. It was tantalizing to see, you’ve never seen a smile like that before. Mr. Just Right dipped his head to catch your gaze again, chuckling and offering his name as Stack. 

“What can I call you, honey?”

You batted your eyes at him and looked down the fine line of him until you took that hand of his. He watched you, working the toothpick settled in the corner of his mouth, as you raised his hand to the column of your throat.

You sighed as your eyes closed briefly at the feeling of his stuttering heartbeat. When you opened your eyes again, you pouted slightly and whispered as softly as you could,

“Can’t…riGht…”

Stack’s expression straightened in understanding, “Can’t talk right?”

“Hm!”

Stack returned your affirming nod and stepped a little closer as he took a good look at you. He seemed to shrug himself, thumbing through the bits and pieces of buds “A’ight then, hone–shieet, or should I call ya’ flower?”

He could call you anything. Stack seemed to get that’s what the smile that dawned across your face meant. Unashamed, you leaned up to get a whiff from the source. Praise be. If it weren’t for Stack’s hands on you, surely you’d have melted around the soles of his fancy shoes. 

Where Smoke man and Annie smelled like each other and ray-warmed clouds and deep underwater songs– this man smelled like something else. 

Promises and butterscotch. Deep, hums and humid yearning. 

You gave him a warm hug and then you found yourself being swept off your feet as he spun in a slow circle. The bristle of his beards scratched at your skin as he nuzzled and you had to bite your lip to keep from kissing him.

“We ever met befo’?” he whispered in your ear once he put you down. 

Again, you gave him a shrug. It’s possible but you haven’t found all your memories yet. Stack swapped that toothpick to the other side of his mouth, tongue rolling it there real slow and taking your attention with it. Your fingers twitched. 

Stack took one of your hands, his other kept on your waist as he led you in a lazy semi-circle. In the cradle of his arms, you made a noise you didn’t know he could hear beneath the music. While you had your land legs now, you still watched your feet. 

“Why does it feel like you’re talkin’ to me?”

Because you wanted to so badly. You don’t know how well Stack man could smell, but he had to have a way of knowing you wanted him too…right?

You reached up with your free hand, to run the tip of your finger across Stack’s bottom lip. Shivering when the tip of his tongue brushed your skin as he carried the pick away from your touch–your eyes widened when he folded the pick into his mouth fully. 

Stack chuckled, showing the pick again before reaching up to flick it away. Your eyes followed, tempted and amazed by the little magic trick, and Stack took the chance to glance over to where he knew his twin was watching.

Smoke was pouring something into Annie’s glass, sparing a single nod towards the door before turning back to his woman.

“Hey lil’ flower, I gotta say I’ma bit peckish,” Stack surprised you by pressing kisses to your cheek the spot beneath your ear, “You, uh, gonna share some nectar with me?”

“Hmm…”

You leaned up and returned a kiss to his cheek, the both of you nuzzling for a moment more before Stack cleared his throat and asked if you ever rode in a motorcar before.

It looked like morning time, Stack didn’t know from the strange way light came through his motor’s windows.

He went over to press a kiss to your cheek, wanting to wake you up with another sweet, when his lips met looseness..

Reality hit him fully as Stacks opened his eyes to the sea of flower petals and downy feathers he was submerged in. Digging through them in a stupor, Stacks could only find your dress and one of the too-big shoes that you wore the night before.

He brought the dress up to his nose, the dove-white fabric now a cascade of hues that matched what you left him.

Stacks looked out to the windshield of his motor, he was still parked outside. The two of you never made it inside? No, that’s right. He remembered your kisses and the strange, intoxicating noises you made when Stack had his hands on you. When he put the car into a standstill, you crooned his name and parted for him so eagerly…

In the back of his mind when Stack was still staring down at the crown of flowers bobbing in his lap, Stack thought he should have brought you to bed. You were the type that was too good for the back seat of the motorcar but holy did you make good due with what you had. 

His eyes closed as heat seeped into his belly. You wrung him dry, all of that softness meaning anything but coyness as you rode him with a syrupy smile on your face. Stack got you back, giving it to you as kept a hold on your face to keep those pretty eyes on him as they rolled. 

Pretty, peculiar noises spilled from your bitten lips and it really felt like you were seeping nectar into his lap. How you looked at him reverently and ran your fingertips and tongue over the gold and silver in his mouth.

Stack picked up handfuls of the petals and watched as they fluttered back into the mass. He…didn’t dream of peeling roses from your skin and the dewy sweat beneath. You must have really untangled a vine of the finest tasting green grapes from the curtain of locs from the nape of your neck.

Stack didn’t know what the fuck you were saying between his name but it felt like…promises. You were so sticky, so sweet–

What were you?

His vision focused some more and he saw who was sitting on the porch. Stack cursed, sitting back in the floral bath and tried to get his head together.

 It didn’t sit well that he didn’t get to wake up with you, that he didn’t get to say goodbye, that he cared to…

The sun crawled a bit higher and the sudden company didn’t leave long enough aside to get some coffee. The second mug caught his attention and finally Stack got out of his motor. As best he could without letting the petals out, Stack closed the door up behind himself to be dealt with later. He fixed clothes up and ran a hand over his face to chase away the left-over sleep then set forward. 

If she was here, then his brother was probably inside cooking up something and to tell Stack how thick his skull was. He grumbled a bit to himself at the thought of his brother and his wife just waltzing past him as he slumbered away as pretty as a princess.

Lord...

Annie sat on the last porch stair, setting that second mug down beside her in invitation. Smoke sat down, gingerly, once he felt the ache in his legs and lower back. He huffed a little at her knowing side-eye.

They sat in silence for a moment. Stack looking at the trailing and dancing petals, following a feather until it flew high enough up into the air to vanish into the awakening blue of the sky.

“She ever gonna come back?”

“I reckon she will.”

Stack gave Annie his own look and she only shrugged a shoulder, “I don’t know when but she will. I’ve seen her before, once or twice. Goes all over, I think, but she lives here.”

“You even know for sure? Met anythin’ like her befo’?”

“She's a joy. She’s in every part of life, every bit of the world.” Annie put a hand on his shoulder and used the other hand to gesture to the petals that had not blown away yet, “You’ll see her again soon. Knowing how you are, especially. You might end up being her favorite.”

Hope quickened his heart. Stack took a sip and before he could ask his next question, the call of a bird overhead caught his gaze. 

The sound was familiar enough to loose the incredulousness feeling in his chest, shifting it to wonder and anticipation as he watched that bird settle high within the cover of a nearby willow tree.

-------------

✨ending notes✨: I....don't even know exactly what this is but I'm happy it's here! 🤣I haven't seen the movie yet but I've been seeing nothing but good things and this is what the vibes left me with. It's a bit long so thank you so much for reading until the end! 🥰This ended up sweeter than what I thought it would be though lmao! tell me what you think and give it a reblog! ✨💓✨💓✨💓

banners by @cafekitsune

💓taglist💓: @kindofaintrovert @megamindsecretlair @ms-angiealsina @notapradagurl7 @harmshake

@gyattttsblog @wandringaesthetic @kami-izanami

[microwavesaferat]

What videogames the Batfam play, I will take absolutely zero criticism.

Bruce

- Mortal Combat

- Explicitly the old arcade cabinet version.

- He sometimes copies moves from the games.

- Claims it's good for improving instincts.

Dick

- Tony Hawk's Pro Skater

- Played all of the Pro Skater games as they came out.

- The sort of person to try and launch themselves halfway across the map.

- Tried to get Tim to show him how to skate, didn't go well (he broke his nose trying to do a trick).

- Despite being an accomplished acrobat, it hasn't transferred well to doing skateboard tricks.

Jason

- The sort of guy to play Doom Eternal and Animal Crossing religiously.

- He will be sitting on the sofa, with unbridled rage on his face while he stares at a switch. Everyone thinks he's struggling with a stage in Doom (it was Animal Crossing, Tom Nook can go fuck himself).

- Has dipped from patrol before cause he realises it was a Sunday and had to sell his turnips before midnight (he will not change the time, that's cheating).

Tim

- Portal 1 and 2

- The puzzles aren't exactly difficult for him, especially after he's completed the game so many times, so now he speedruns the game, seeing what he can exploit.

- Constantly switching between no. 1 and 2 on the leaderboards (the other person he's switching with is actually the Riddler, he was allowed 1 video game in Arkham).

- Managed to rig up controls so he can play multiplayer by himself.

Damian

- Has no such time for childish wastes of time!

- How dare you assume he would sully his mind with such trivial acts!

- I mean really, he spends his time pursuing actually meaningful stimulation such as reading or research.

- It's Pokémon.

- He wanted to play Doom after seeing Jason play it, but he's like 12.

- He has played every single Pokémon game and knows all the meta.

- He has qualms with the idea of animal fighting, but Dick told him that Pokémon like to fight, like how dogs and cats will play fight.

Barbara

- Any of those CCTV horror games.

- Since her work as Oracle, these games are a piece of cake, so she plays them while doing other stuff, just in the background.

- She has completed Fnaf UCN 50/20 mode multiple times now, sometimes while monitoring the Bats in patrol.

Stephanie

- Sims

- She has made all the family and the rogues in the Sims.

- She has made Bruce and Clark 'woohoo' multiple times.

- When someone pisses her off, she will torture them in the Sims and send footage to the group chat.

- Tim has been locked in a 1x1 room for 3 weeks now (he still doesn't know what he did) (he didn't bring her anything from Batburger when he went).

Cassandra

- Story-based games like What Remains of Edith Finch and Life is Strange.

- Any competitive game is out of the questions as it's too easy to read her component. She has beaten Bruce at MK soooo many times.

- Like these games cause she finds it half way between reading a book and watching a soap-opera at times.

- Doesn't need to "be the best" as there isn't a goal, so she can just relax and enjoy herself.

- Also likes playing DDR with Duke.

Duke

- Beatsaber

- In training for We Are Robin, he used several rhythm games to improve his reaction time as it's a good way to practice without actually getting into danger.

- Absolutely dominates at DDR with the Batfam, like him and Cass will be at an arcade and it'll be like one of those scenes from a movie where they switch sides, do tricks, and are so in sync, it's insane.

- Beatsaber is fun cause he will project it in front of him as well to physically hit the blocks. He needs VR when he can just make it exist.

- The others swear he uses his powers to cheat at it cause he's so much better than the rest of them (he does on occasion when one of them annoys him).

Alfred

- Master Bruce, I do not have time to play video games and have no such interest. These things are for the younger generation anyway.

- Bloodborne.

[revelboo]

I LOVE your Soundwave(s) and Tarn! Those are my top two fav tfs (SW has been my fav since I was a wee thing!) and I love the way you write them both! Your stories are my daily decadent luxuries. <3

I read your pages every single day because I love all your stories so much — even ones that have characters that I’m really not interested in, I still can’t get enough of their stories! You’ve basically re-mapped my list of favourites and now I have so many more… You even made me like a spider! These characters-first stories literally drive my day and they mean so much to me, I can’t even begin to thank you enough for them.

I do, however, start missing some of these wonderful characters when I haven’t ‘heard from them’ in a while though, lol, especially ones on cliffhangers/edges/buildups. I’m currently ‘missing’ :

— Sunstreaker (so what’s my fav sunshine boy going to do now, eh?);

— the Rainmakers (I can’t wait for the little human to really get their attention); and

— the Constructicons (that last part to “Drive” makes me feel like it’s that moment right before wee little me gets to open my presents).

Although I wouldn’t object to Vortex, Megatronus, and Brainstorm making some noise too, since they were also left hanging a bit, lol.

I’m seriously attempting not to just list all my favs, but it isn’t easy since you’ve made me love soooooo many more of them, lol. <3

When you’re feeling up to it, could we have more Needs and Wants? I am one of those people that just systematically goes through the entire Otome to see all of the endings and ‘keep’ my fav one(s), and this story had me HOOKED from the opening sentence. Soundwave, Tarn, and Misfire? Hell yeah, sign me up! :D

Take care of yourself & know that your writing is fuel for so many of my days. <3

Thank you so much! I wanted to get more stuff updated this past weekend and kind of got myself into an ‘everything I write is garbage’ funk 😅

Needs and Wants Pt 5

Soundwave x Reader, Tarn x Reader, Misfire x Reader, Ratchet x Reader, Bluestreak x Reader, Wheeljack x Reader

• It’s the mech’s almost self deprecating smile and the flicking of his door wings that breaks through the overwhelming reality of your so-called soul mates. That look on his eerily human face that seems as uncertain as you feel somehow reassuring you. And Maccadam is right there, arms crossed as he watches the interaction like a father watching a potential suitor and trying to decide how bad to scare the kid. “We can talk,” you manage, voice shaky.

• “Okay, that’s- thank you,” he manages, tripping over his own words, and his tension eases as that feeling of warmth and belonging grows stronger, more insistent at the sound of your voice. Wants you to keep talking to him. Smile for him. Maybe let him touch your hand. Would that be too much? To let him touch a servo to those delicate looking fingers? Servos gripping the door frame, he feels Wheeljack bump his arm, the scientist’s vocal indicators flickering mauve when he frowns at him. And for the first time that he can remember, he’s speechless, wanting to ask so many things that he can’t say any of them.

• “Hi. Wheeljack here,” he says, awkwardly lifting a hand and warmth spills through him to twine about his spark when you hesitantly lift your own hand with a small, fragile smile. But you’re smiling at him. Shouldering in closer to Bluestreak, he ignores when he gets flicked with a door wing. “You’re looking for a partner?” He asks and you look at Maccadam, expression almost desperate. “I could take care of you.” Wants to try anyway. Because it’s be nice to have someone stay, need him and trust him to look after them. To not be alone.

• Denta gritting at the two Autobots trying to coax you into coming out, Tarn worries at the chains binding his wrists. Wanting loose even if his escape plan has stalled out. Hating that fascination singing through him from being near you to become a yearning he doesn’t want and can’t deny. Maybe when he escapes, he’ll just steal you. Sate this need with you and be satisfied.

• Coming up behind the two bots blocking you from view, Misfire drapes an arm across both of their shoulders, insulating himself between them to make them flinch to his delight. “Name’s Misfire.” And there you are, so small and needing reassuring. “These scary bots overwhelming you? I could keep you safe.” Wings flaring as Tarn and Soundwave both make a noise from behind him. So much for faction solidarity.

• Tempted to drag all three of them away from your door because they’re making you more anxious instead of less, Soundwave rumbles and rocks into agitated motion, pacing restlessly. Why does it feel like he’s tethered to you? Like he needs to be closer. Needs to touch you. Is this Maccadam’s influence or something else? Wants to soothe that nervous energy away.

• Hears Maccadam’s low voice coaxing and then Wheeljack, Bluestreak and that Decepticon seeker are backing away. Letting Maccadam lead you out, your arm tucked in his, a soft hand on his arm as your eyes dart around the room. Hold his optics for too short an amount of time before moving on. Aware that he’s probably the oldest mech here, that you’re unlikely to be interested in him. Even if he’s also the most experienced. Servos flexing, he’s moving closer, but then they all are spreading out, circling you. Hungry.

Previous

[rottingghosty]

The Hunt of Joker II | DC X DP

part two baby !!!!

“rot where have you been” i work 40 hours a week and do have adult things to do… plus there’s been music events so work’s been busy! :’)

update on The Matriarch AU fic, will be a multi chapter fic and I’m currently reading over and editing ch. 1 because making a full fic means i have to be aware of my errors (some will slip past me like always, I’m 1 person with no beta read and english isnt my first language)

enjoy!!!

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Jason strolled through Crime Alley, the static was heavy in the air as the shades chittered away in his ears as his passed by areas that were heavy with them. The Alley residents moving quickly, tugging their coats closer to them as if to protect themselves from something. It made Jason lick his teeth as he rolled his shoulders to get a kink out of it. The shadows seemed more sinister in ways that Jason hadn’t considered, especially after having to explain to his family about why everything seemed off kilter to them.

He supposed it was pretty fucking odd to spring it on them, but Jason couldn't exactly help it. All of them had close brushes to death but few experience death like he had. Few had been dead for so long only to start digging out of their own grave to breathe. To exist once more after being in the void of nothing. Jason can't remember anything from when he was dead but he fucking picked up some things from being dead.

It wasn't obvious at first, not when he rarely fucking remembers what it was like during the time he was alive again prior to being dumped in the Lazarus Pit. Even then, he didn't remember much until a few months after the dunk. It'd been more obivous after the All Caste was bestowed on him and now he'd gotten so used to the other side of life that he hadn't considered how odd it'd be.

He lives and breathes with the side of death, how even when the rare moments of something bring out Solomon Grundy from the sewers or whatever crevices the big guy resides in the moment— there was a sense of kinship that wasn’t there before. How even Grundy seems to feel like something was going on, enough for the man to stumble into Jason during one of his patrols earlier. The zombie giving an aggravated grunt like he could even hear the trills of the shades down in the sewers.

Of course those little bastards quieted down when the two zombies stood side by side, Jason taking off his helmet on the rare chance to light a cigarette even if Grundy huffed. A crooked grin forming on Jason’s lips as his domino covered eyes turned to Grundy.

“Wonderin’ why they all chattin’ away?” Jason had drawled out in the moment, feeling Grundy push him roughly. It was enough force to make him stumble but he held his hands up in a gesture of goodwill. He knew he shouldn’t push on the zombie’s already limited hold on his anger. Not when Grundy was already looking around, sniffing the air like it could give him clues.

“There’s been a hunt called,” Jason began as he patted his jacket for a lighter, flicking it out and open. The flame dancing wildly as he brought it up to his mouth, watching as the cigarette caught the spark. He briefly wondered if one day whoever got managed to get a hit on Joker, would make sure he got a death befitting for him like he gave to Jason.

“Hunt?” Grundy asked, voice low and deep with a rumble that Jason felt to his very being. He ignored the way the pit or whatever the fuck was in him since his dip in the Lazarus Pit tried to give a rumble in reply.

“Something’s pissed off and called a hunt. It’s why the other side is all giddy. They’re off their metaphorical leash.” Jason mumbled around his cigarette, inhaling as he tilted his head up to stare at Gotham’s smog covered stars when in return all he just sees is darkness. Good ol’ Gotham.

“Annoying.”

“Yeah, they can be pretty annoying with their talks. I’ll see if they can pass the word for the shades near you to keep quiet. Wouldn’t want you to rampage while the hunt is going.”

Grundy grunts in reply before he turns away to head back to his haunt in the sewers, the haunting tune that Grundy says settling heavy on Jason’s shoulders.

“Solomon Grundy born on a Monday…”

It’d been days when everything seemed to burst, Jason was at the Manor— these days he made rounds of visiting mostly because the tension settled between his shoulders have made him more snappier than he’d like. The heightened pressure of Gotham’s hauntings were baring down on him and it often caused him to be rougher with whatever was going on.

He’d had to take a break from patrolling the alley mostly because of the fact he almost broke a mugger’s arm. He’d only backed off when Dick had swung by to intercept and even then that required rough handling because Jason needed to fight something. His instincts were screaming at him and it made him twitchier.

He heavily decided he fucking hated the feeling of a hunt happening, even worse when not even one person wanted to let it slip on who the hunt was called on. Then the Joker started popping his head out of whatever hidey hole he fucking was in and it felt like he was in a shark infested water with the way everything caused his hair to stand on its ends at the sudden sharpness of attention.

It made the teeth in his jaw itch, the way he instinctively bite down on things with more force than needed. He’s ran his tongue over his teeth enough times to feel the difference now, the way his canines are sharper. The way he’s had to hide his mouth in ways just so the others don’t witness the fact that Jason’s canines aren’t blunt and human like anymore. They felt like fangs.

Everyone was in the living room, doing their own thing as Jason tried to focus so hard on reading the Hunger Games. It’s something that Steph had recommended and he was slowly working through the series when the sudden itching was gone. He instinctively sat up, his eyes darting around.

He could see everyone else snap their attention to him, all aware of the fact that the faint buzz they had been hearing was silent. A creak was heard from Alfred shifting from where he stood.

Jason ran his tongue over his teeth again, feeling it cut into the muscle easily as he tasted the blood. Grounding himself with the pain.

Silence. Anticipation.

A soft whisper, a burst of cold air.

Then—

A thud. A hand reached out to Jason before everything vanished in a haze of green.

[kingdoms-and-empires]

Hello there! I want to say, I LOVE your story! Fantastic world, fantastic characters, and plot. I can't wait for more (please, give us plebs some food! I mean more chapters and updates.) And by the way, I am happy to hear you are back on your feet. I noticed something in the RO options: Why does the M!MC have 1 Gay romance and the F!MC 1 Lesbian and 1 Bi? Don't you think that is a bit limiting? Is there a narrative reason? Thank you, and I wish you the best. :D Good Day!

It's supposed to be a surprise, but since im close to releasing the public update... in the Great Rewrite, all the ROs are playersexual now. They're open to be romanced no matter what!

Im telling you since your words made me smile <3 and cause i cant hold it in anymore!

I'm aiming for a more grounded romantasy feeling for KaE since romance will be very important to the story. Especially the whole potential-

-problems that'll happen once a certain point is reached.

(I recently rewatched the Revenge of the Sith in the recent rerun lmao)

I've always thought of my work as being inspired by

Homeric Epics (i was always a fan of Greek and Roman myths and stuff since i was young.)

Nordic Sagas but mostly Beowulf (only got into them cause of Vikings the show lololol, but I found myself increasingly engrossed by the Sagas)

Romance of the Three Kingdoms (Dynasty Warriors 4: Empires on the Xbox 360 introduced me to the series and ive been in love since lol)

And because of the above, the game series Nobunaga's Ambition.

Plus isekai and reincarnation manga/anime in general!

I feel like what makes worlds and stories interesting isn't the worldbuilding (though that helps alot, and is without a doubt my crutch atm) but the human emotions that can cause characters to act out, crash out, and do the things they do that can throw a wrench in any well-laid plan.

The new version is far more character driven than before as a result, and I love it. And what's more emotional than love?

The geopolitics, intrigue, war, kingdom building, and the rest of what makes KaE KaE is remaining, of course! Hell, I'd say there's even MORE now, as some of my Patreons would most likely agree with.

It's just that romance is being elevated to be more important to me.

I made this decision a while back because I felt the narrative and restrictive reasons of before no longer hold up with the rewrite changes I made to the world and story.

Cause I changed ALOT.

And we never really even met a majority of the ROs in previous versions so... it's not like im doing something like changing characters yall know and romanced lol, which btw, is ironically a bonus with all the rewrites and time ive taken to find my bearings with this story ;-;

Who helped me reach this decision a while back?

Why...

@when-life-gives-you-lemons-if thank you for putting up with me!!!!!

@leiatalon also helped me reach this decision (also thanks for putting up with me)!!!!!

Both are published authors with multiple titles below their belt that focus on romance, so they definitely had my rapt attention. They were especially kind enough to share their experiences and some advice when it comes to that area with me, and its thanks to their encouragement that I felt this was the right decision.

Please, check out their Tumblr blogs and look at the games they've released! They might interest you!!

What may also interest you?

You can actually see all the progress reports ive given on Patreon! They're free, and you can start from oldest to newest. Plus other articles that detail what im adding to the new version that's soon to release to the public. After all, this upcoming update is the last one that ends our childhood! And it'll be the one that finally makes it so everyone of you can read what I've worked on.

Once my Patreons test out the epilogue for the arc and give me the all clear, the public will get it!

That's all from me for now. Im still busy at work with the epilogue!