#currently one dumb take from a crash out

[literallysweetheartgreer]

This is moreso in response to the reply that was given to this post.

People's reasoning for disliking Bright Eyes is valid but in that same vein it is so fucking crazy cause yall will sit and kiss the asses of characters who do the same shit and worse. The motherfucker was nosy and curious and it ended badly and that somehow warrants yall to say/do shit so vile that Erik literally had to shut it the fuck down. It's disgusting and I will never not be resentful of that fact.

And if yalls reasoning truly was the disregarding of feelings then why do I see motherfuckers defending Cutie for dear life, or early Angel when they tried to pressure David into shifting, or Darlin who consistently disregarded people's concerns for their health and how it might've been affecting them? Yes the situations are different but if your problem at heart was the disregarding of feelings then a lot of our most loved characters would not be fan favs.

Another thing, what the fuck do you mean "even after the turning." Was Bright Eyes not also freshly turned and fucking horrified? I raise you this; That night in Wonderworld do you think Vincent was busy trying to make sure Stranger wasn't having a panic attack while William was turning him? Or right after?

If your answer is yes then I'm gonna need you to take a fucking class on Media Literacy and Reading Comprehension oh and COMMON FUCKING SENSE????? That is a traumatic event for any and all who experience it, we didn't expect lovely to be coddling Vincent during their turning, we didn't expect Vincent to be coddling Stranger during his either so why the FUCK are you expecting that of Bright Eyes??? Make it make sense.

R.I.P Bright Eyes you will always be famous ily

!! DISCLAIMER, PLEASE CORRECT ME IF I’M WRONG ON ANYTHING, AND I’M MORE THAN OPEN TO DISCUSSIONS AND THINGS, BUT PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL !!

I’m not exactly sure where this realization came from but like

I listened to the first audio of Fred and Bright eyes a couple months back via a Google drive, and I genuinely don’t get why people hated Bright Eyes so much?? Like

Okay, they were walking around an abandoned amusement park at night and were nosy despite Fred telling them not to, but if we’re going by that logic Lovely and Darlin’ / Tank would also be bad people, right?

Darlin’ for lying to David and going out on their own to hunt Quinn down, And Lovely for doing the exact same thing Bright Eyes did, Walking around an abandoned amusement park at night! And yes, you could argue that if Fred & Bright weren’t there in the first place they wouldn’t have been attacked, but from my understanding if they were able to be turned via Sam, they were previously human and had no knowledge of supernatural creatures such as vampires existing due to co-vert and such!

Justice for fred and bright eyes, so sad I didn’t get to experience them firsthand

[semiloml]

cw: backshots, size kink kinda?, overstimulation, manhandling, cockdrunk!reader, aftercare, lmk if I missed anything!!

Daichi had been patient. Too patient.

But now? Now he was done holding back.

“You wanna act like a fuckin’ tease all day?” His voice was low, rough against your ear, his grip firm as he bent you over the bed, one large hand pressing into the dip of your spine. “Now you wanna run? Ain’t happenin’, baby.”

you weren’t trying to run. not really. You just hadn’t expected him to snap like this. The shift from your sweet, composed Daichi to this rough, possessive version of him had your head spinning—and your pussy throbbing.

you whimpered, pressing your cheek against the mattress as his thick fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place.

“Daichi—”

“Nah, sweetheart.” His grip tightened, his other hand reaching up, wrapping around the back of your neck. “You wanted to push me? You fuckin’ got me.”*

the first thrust of his hips knocked the breath from your lungs.

“Ohhh, fuck—!”

His cock stretched you open, thick and deep, pressing right up against your cervix, and you swore you could feel him in your stomach.

“M mh, yeah—fuckin’ knew it,” Daichi groaned, rolling his hips slow, deep, making you feel every inch of him. “Knew this tight little pussy could take me.”

You clenched around him desperately, thighs trembling, barely able to catch your breath before he snapped his hips forward again.

The sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoed through the room—wet, filthy, obscene.

“You hear that?” He gritted out, his pace quickening, each thrust harder, rougher. “That’s me owning this fuckin’ pussy. That’s you…” He punctuated his words with a particularly sharp snap of his hips, making you cry out. “..gettin’ fucked proper.”

Your vision blurred, your nails clawing at the sheets, desperate to ground yourself as he ruined you.

“Fuck, ‘m so deep—feels so fuckin’ good—” Your voice was a broken, needy mess, slurred with pleasure, and Daichi let out a dark chuckle.

“Yeah? That’s all it takes to turn you into my dumb little fucktoy?”

You moaned, the filth of his words making heat coil even tighter in your belly.

“You love it, huh?” He growled, pulling out almost entirely before slamming back in, dragging a sob from your throat. “Love bein’ bent over and fucked like this? Love takin’ it from behind while my balls slap against this pretty little pussy?”

“Y-yes—fuck, Daichi—!”

“That’s right,” he grunted, one hand sliding up, tangling in your hair, yanking your head back just enough to arch your spine. “So fuckin’ pretty like this, baby. My perfect little fuckin’ mess.”

Your walls fluttered around him, pleasure crashing through you as your orgasm hit, your body shaking beneath him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he groaned, his thrusts turning erratic, desperate, his fingers digging into your waist. “Ohhh, fuck—gonna cum so deep, baby—gonna fill this perfect little cunt up—”

His hips slammed forward one last time, burying himself as deep as he could go, his cock pulsing as he came with a low, guttural groan.

For a few seconds, the only sound in the room was his heavy breathing, the sticky press of your bodies, the mess between your thighs.

Then, finally, his grip softened.

“Shit, baby,” he muttered, leaning down, pressing a soft kiss between your shoulder blades. “You okay?”

You hummed weakly, still trying to catch your breath, and he chuckled, rubbing soothing circles into your hips, massaging the spots where his fingers had bruised you.

“Lemme clean you up, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips trailing up to your ear, pressing another gentle kiss there. “Then I’ll make it up to you.”

You shivered, already knowing that making it up to you meant another round.

And you weren’t complaining.

AUTHOR‘S NOTE: is the cure to female loneliness receiving backshots??😣 ANYWAY REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN!!! CURRENTLY WORKING ON THEM

[dollfacefantasy]

34 + 35 ♡

older bf!toji fushiguro x fem!reader

you tell toji you can handle a 69, and he wants you to prove it to him.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, 69ing, oral sex, daddy kink, overstimulation, light praise/degradation

“Get to it, doll. You said you could do it,” your boyfriend teases from beneath you.

Toji’s hand meets your ass hard, a clear smack ringing throughout the room. You nearly topple over onto him from the jolt but stabilize yourself before you crash. Your hands grab onto his hips as you glance down at his toned body.

It’s where you were heading anyways, so you relax your arms and lower yourself. Your abdomen rests flush against his. Your face hovers a few inches from his cock. It was already hard, the tip an even brighter red against the pale skin of his pelvis. It’d been in your mouth before countless times, but never while he also had his face buried between your legs.

“C’mon. You wanted a proper 69, didn’t ya? Gotta put it in your mouth then, sweet thing,” he coos.

His own hands currently ghosted up and down the back of your thighs, leaving chills in their wake. He teasingly nips and kisses at the skin leading up to your center. Your anticipation builds, and you know you do in fact need to get to it. It was your idea after all. He’d just gotten back from a bounty, one he actually collected successfully. He was in a better mood than normal, just wanted you to sit on his face as a treat.

You couldn’t just be happy with that generous offer. Too many comments about how hard he was ended up with the two of you debating whether or not you could handle 69ing. You knew you couldn’t. You went dumb with his cock in your mouth while on your knees with nothing distracting you. But you couldn't just let him be right all the time, that was no fun.

Now you’re here though. Your fingers curl around the base of his cock tentatively as you spit a decent amount of saliva onto the head. You watch it dribble down the veiny shaft. It takes a little to go down the full length to your fingers, but as soon as it does, you start stroking. Up and down, your hand squeezes gently as you get his dick slippery.

“Daddy’s not gonna start till I feel those pretty lips wrapped around me,” he whispers, his way of saying stop wasting time while in a good mood.

Parting your lips, you take it just like he taught you to. Just like he likes it. You suckle the tip deeper and bob your head, swirling your tongue and flicking it against the little ridge. His chest deflates under you as he lets out a pleasured sigh.

It doesn’t take him long to return the favor though. His tongue darts out and laps at your clit. His large hands hold your hips firmly in place. There was no squirming away from this. Each breath gave him a hit of your heady scent. 

For him, this was heaven. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t tried this with you sooner. He got to have that precious little mouth on his cock while devouring his baby like she was the finest meal on earth.

You, on the other hand, weren’t faring as well. You were already shuddering from the sensations. Each stripe he licked over your cunt, each swipe against your swollen bud made you whine and just wanna melt on top of him.

You keep trying though. You suck more of him into your mouth, stroking the part of him you aren’t ready for yet. Spit leaks from your mouth and coats even more of his length which pulses in your mouth. The weight of it on your tongue has your mind beginning to swirl. Precum oozes from the head and coats your tongue.

“Daddy…” you whine, but it comes out garbled because of the dick in your mouth.

He chuckles and gives you another nice slap on the ass. “That’s right, baby. You’re takin’ daddy so good, makin’ me proud,” he mutters into your pussy.

He holds you down tighter, pressing your cunt right up close to his face. His tongue laves at your sensitive bundle of nerves, twirling around it, teasing it with tiny flitting motions and then overwhelming you with a harsh suck. Your whimpers get louder while your hand slows down on his cock.

You gotta make him proud though. You force yourself to take more, lodging him as far in your throat as you can get him. He hears the little gag that comes from you as you try to get your mouth all the way around his shaft. His lips morph into a smirk against your center. He continues making out with your cunt like he’s trying to take in every last drop of you.

As he gets sloppier, going from precise and calculated to messy and open-mouthed, you start to lose it a bit. Your hands shake, and you have to grip his hips to keep yourself somewhat steady. You keep sucking his cock, hollowing your cheeks and rhythmically rising and falling. More needy whimpers fall from your lips. You try to rock your hips, but he’s got a good grip on ‘em.

“It's getting harder, isn’t it baby?” he taunts. His hand slithers between your legs to rub at your puffy clit a little bit, drawing an even louder noise from you. “Now you’re seeing why daddy just wanted to play with you first.”

“I- I’m fine…” you stammer out. It’s an obvious lie, but you try to maintain the facade.

“You are? Still wanna act like a big girl, huh?” he teases.

His mouth takes over again. You’re left shivering with your eyes screwed shut. You inhale sharply before trying to return to your task. You go back to stroking him. Your hand twists as it goes, brushing over the head and smearing the sticky, white droplets over the length.

But as soon as his hand comes back and pinches your clit, you squeal and your efforts fail. Your head drops to his pelvis where your cheek squishes against his warm skin. He only wishes he could see your face because he knows the way your lips are puffing out into that cute pout. Your hips rut on instinct, and he has to lock them in place with a tighter hold.

“Stay still, babydoll. Seems like you’re getting a little distracted,” he murmurs before reattaching his lips to your pussy.

You moan loudly but scoot your head a little closer. 

“I’m not, daddy,” you whimper. Your tongue sticks out to lap at his balls. You suckle one into your mouth, but all he does is laugh.

He nuzzles further between your legs, speeding up the motions of his tongue. Your legs start to quiver and tense up. They close around his head, and he knows what’s coming.

“Let it out,” he grunts.

Your back arches and your nails dig into his flesh. You take your mouth off him all together and turn your head against his thigh to hide the expressions your features scrunch into. You groan against him, your hips bucking and jerking with each wave of euphoria. 

He lets you ride it out, but once you come down, he doesn’t stop. You claw at his legs, trying to crawl away and seek refuge between his huge thighs. He pulls you back into place though and kneads your ass cheeks soothingly.

“Not gonna happen, little girl. Not letting you go until you get me to cum at least once,” he says. With that, he’s back to using his mouth for more important things.

“Daddy!” you whine. Normally, that would be easy, but you couldn’t even do it the first time around and now you had overstimulation frying your nerves.

He’s loud between your thighs, wet, sensual noises echoing from the top of the bed where his head rests. You try to match and slurp around his shaft, but it’s difficult when you’re so shaky and it feels like your insides are melting.

You’re so whiny too. Your head drops back to its place next to his dick as you lazily jerk him off.

He keeps going and brings you to another high minutes later. You mewl even louder for him and drop his cock, letting it fall against your face and rest on your cheek. Your eyes flutter as the ecstasy takes over for a moment.

“Not so easy is it, baby?” he croons, “It’s so much easier just letting daddy take care of you, huh?”

“Mhm,” you hum with a dizzy nod.

He places a tender kiss on your clit and chuckles as he sees you clench around nothing. This time he does give you a small break. You both knew he could reduce you to a puddle of sobs and moans if he so desired, but he wanted to give you a little chance.

And you don’t take it for granted. You lift your head again. Your cheek feels numb from being pressed to his hip for a while. As the blood circulates through it again, you return your lips to the tip of his cock. You spit down on it for the second time tonight and take it into the warm embrace of your mouth.

Your sucking starts off languid. He was still lapping at your cunt, but not with the dedication he had previously. He kept you simmering in pleasure but held off the real heat of bliss for now. Little sounds of delight still come from you every so often, but they're muffled around his girth.

You start increasing the speed of your head and tighten the suction of your mouth a bit. It’s his turn to let his head fall back. His thumb weakly rubs up and down your pussy while he enjoys the feeling of you sucking him off.

“Fuck, dolly,” he groans, “That’s it. Such a good girl.”

You suck more, feeling like you can actually do this. You’re drooling all over his cock, eyes going glossy like they always did when you had nothing on the brain but Toji. Your lips smack around the tip haphazardly before you take it down your throat again. You hold your breath for a moment, letting him enjoy your throat. You then rise up again before bobbing your head with the most fervor you can muster.

His hips twitch a bit, and he chokes out some moans against your dripping cunt. He starts increasing the pressure of his mouth, wanting to make you cum once more with him. Your hips tremble, but you’re determined. If you didn’t get it now, you figured you’d be spending the night with his head between your thighs.

“You’re gonna make daddy cum, doll. Fuck,” he mutters, “Actin’ like a perfect slut just for me.”

You lick his cock from the base to the tip, flattening your tongue and trying to hit every sensitive spot he had. His fingers dig into the plump of your ass more. You could feel little marks forming on your skin, but they only spurred you on.

“That’s my little girl. That’s what that mouth was made for,” he breathes.

Whimpering and twitching, you take him as deep as you can again.

“Oh fuck,” he grunts. His hips snap up a bit as he shoots his load down your throat. You can practically feel the rumbling of his groans against your tummy. They rise in his chest and seep out against your entrance as he continues fucking his tongue into you. You take in deep breaths through your nose as he works you to one more release. It’s not as intense as the first two, but the dull pleasure is still one of the best feelings you’ve experienced. 

You swallow every drop of cum he gives you before pulling off him for the final time. A string of saliva still connects you with his shiny tip as your head collapses onto him.

He takes a deep breath before lifting you up and spinning you around like it’s nothing. Your head now rests against his chest where you can listen to the thundering of his heart. He hums with satisfaction and rubs his hand up and down your back.

“Did I do good, daddy?” you mumble.

He looks down at you and the slow way you blink when you’ve cum a few times.

“Yeah, babydoll. You did as much as you could,” he says with a little smirk.

You pop your head up at the playful jab. “I tried. It’s not my fault you’re like… so good at that,” you say and shoot him a look.

“Sure, sure. I guess we’ll just have to keep practicing till you get better at it, hm?” he teases.

You nod before leaning in and kissing him. The both of you part your lips to deepen the exchange, tasting one another in the other’s mouth.

[mr-bas00nist]

Maybe like the uncle of toge who has the same curse speech and uses it to make their partner come as much as they want as often as they want?

I was thinking gojo for this request but honestly do whoever you’d prefer bc you deserve it 🧡

Follow My Command

✧.*-Sub! Gojo Satoru x Dom! Male! Reader

✧.*-Cw: Overstimulation, daddy kink and a spank like once and blowjobs

Being an older cursed speech user meant you knew how to use your technique. You didn’t have to speak rice ball ingredients like your nephew did, although, you used too. Now, as a talented sorcerer, you knew what words to avoid and which ones to speak. It wasn’t a huge concern anymore like it used to be.

You had met Gojo on a mission a while back. After the mission ended you two talked for a while since he noticed your telltale cursed speech marks. He explained to you that he actually knew your nephew to which you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Your nephew was funny and a sweetheart, good to know he was helping him get stronger.

Eventually you two were sent on more missions and you ran into him more when you visited Toge. So you two just decided to talk to each other out of work. You two hit it off on a personal level and became good friends. Then, even more.

‎‧₊˚✧Timeskip✧˚₊‎‧

You and Satoru were currently relaxing at home, you had a lazy arm hung over his waist. “Can I ask you something baby?” You and Satoru’s relationship was still new so you two still hadn’t done certain things. “Sure.” You responded as you tilted your head.

That list included sex. “Well, we’ve been together long enough,” Satoru paused glancing around with a smile. “We should have sex.” You smiled softly and nodded. “I’d love to-“ Satoru smirked as he put a finger up though, pausing you

“But, I say you add your cursed technique to it.” He smirked as he tapped your lips then moved to your tattoos. You hummed as you stuck your tongue out in thought. “Okay.” You nodded as you gripped his face kissing him. You leaned into his ear with a smile on your face.

“Get undressed and wait patiently on the bed.” You told him as he obeyed (obviously) with a giddy smile on his face. When you went upstairs you saw him laying on the bed with his cock standing in attention. He panted with a small sheen of sweat on his face.

You smiled walking over as you hummed sitting on the bed as you took your pants off. “Get on your knees and suck me off.” He obviously couldn’t say no so he got down and unbuckled your pants. His warm glossy lips enveloping your tip as he let out a content noise.

You moaned softly as his head gently bobbed up and down. He peered up at you through white lashes before refocusing on your pelvis. You gripped his white hair before leaning your head back. “Shit- slack your jaw.” You felt his jaw loosen as you pulled his face back to you.

You groaned as you fucked his mouth with vigor. He gagged and choked as he gripped your thighs while you bobbed his face up and down. “Are you okay Satoru?” You asked through rough movements. You looked down to see his eyes colorful blue eyes were rolled back in his head, tears cascading down his face as he choked violently.

You laugh to yourself before ordering another command. “Breathe through your nose.” You heard him take a sharp inhale through his nose as his eyes came down a bit. Your orgasm crashed into you unexpectedly as you pulled his face down into you, nose hitting your pelvis.

You gently pulled his head off as he panted. Mouth dripping with your cum and his spit as his jaw remained slack, his blue eyes reddened from crying. You smiled as he then swallowed giving you a dumb smile. You smiled before uttering a small, “cum.”

You saw Satoru keen over as he let out a loud moan, cum spurting out on the hardwood floors. His eyes widened as he saw you give an innocent smile. “T-that’s a dirty fucking trick-!” He spoke before letting out another moan. “Cum again.” He mewled as his eyes rolled back.

You smiled before glancing over to the bed as you spoke. “Go on the bed face down, ass up.” He crawled up on the bed as you smacked his ass while he went by. You hummed as you gripped his hips tightly as you set your dick on his ass.

“This is gonna be a long night you know?” You asked with a smirk in your voice. To which Satoru whined softly. You gave a smack to his ass as you rubbed it softly. “Answer me.” You spoke with a soft pout.

“Yes daddy.”

A/n: Had a lot of fun writing this one! I have a Choso story coming up next then I’ve got a wholesome one with Raiden from MGS. Hope you guys enjoyed, keep requesting ✌🏽.

[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.

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18+ only | watch at your own risk | contains mature content

bonus: this is so lee jeno x bunny coded -> click here

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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]

[criswritessometimes]

messy!

contents - SMUT, fluff, reader is afab, reader and schlatt are exs, having sex with an ex, penis in vagina sex, a lot of emotions that are unsaid, reader is on top

authors note // omg thanks yall for 100 followers!! i just enjoy writing (sometimes bady) little stories about men i can't get out of my head :3. also I'm glad ya'll didn't pick the angst ending for this fic, i still wrote it and man it's upsetting. enjoy!

you and schlatt dated for a few months a few years ago. unfortunately, schlatt broke up with you as his youtube career was growing, and he wanted to focus on it. you thought that was a bullshit excuse but tried to keep your head up and move away from him physically and emotionally. the next time you hear from him is about a year later. you’re up late on a tuesday working on a paper for your english class when your phone buzzes. a photo of schlatt when you two dated was the photo that popped up; you never cared to change it. your stomach drops, and your hand shakes as you answer the call and bring the phone up to your ear, “hello?? (y/n)??” he’s slurring his speech as it comes from your phone. fuck, you should’ve blocked him. your head is in your hand, “hey man, what’s up.” “shit, am i interrupting something?” he asks. “i mean kinda, i’m working on my final paper for class but it’s whatever, what’s up man?” you still had a soft spot for him; you couldn’t help it. “oh ok, i um i just wanted to apologize for breaking up with you.” schlatt admits. your eyes widen from shock, “oh, um, th-thank you.” you haven’t spoken to him for a year and a half, and now he’s apologizing? there’s a beat before anything else is said, “if you mean it, give me a shout tomorrow and apologize when you’re sober. drink some water big guy. have a good night.” you hang up, sitting there for a moment as your heart rate settles back to resting before continuing with your paper for the night. the following day, you see a text,

from: schlatt

i meant it last night. i’m sorry for how the breakup affected you, and i would take it back if i could. i’m sorry (y/n)

sent: 10:19 am

both of you start to communicate more low contact in the coming months. you would comment on his videos, and he would send you dumb posts on instagram. even though you couldn’t see yourself getting back with him, you missed him so fucking much. every time you would see a notification from him, especially after long periods of not hearing from him because he was caught up with streaming or his move to austin, you would always have a smile on your face.

as you’re ending college, your job hunt begins, and one company you apply for only has in-person interviews; you roll your eyes as you scroll through the description, and you fit it, actually. you huff since you knew you needed to apply for this job. scrolling down, you see the interviews for the position are taking place in austin, texas. schlatt is living in austin currently. you sit at your desk, eyeing your phone, and you know you shouldn’t. it always gets messy when people stay in contact with their ex. before you know it, your phone is opened on your favorite contacts, schlatt being recently added back, and you’re pressing his contact. it rings a few times. “ what’s up, make it fast, i’m streaming.” he answers. “sooo what if i said i need a place to crash in austin next weekend?” you ask. “you need a ride from the airport?” he spoke so domestically like this was already planned out, he truly would do anything for you. his tone and willingness to help you caught you by surprise, “um yeah, that would be great. but if you’re bu-” you say before he cuts you off, “never too busy for you, doll. send me your flight info.” then hangs up. the beeps of the end call echo through your head as this will happen. you finally get to see schlatt again after all these years.

you stand outside the austin airport with your small carry-on, waiting for schlatt to pull up. a porsche parks a few feet away from you, and schlatt gets out of the driver's seat. you’ve seen him in videos as he grew out the mutton chops, but seeing him in person was different. it’s him. you freeze as you see him approach you with that excited smile. not many saw it, but you got to. he’s in front of you, gesturing to take your bag from you, but you can’t hear anything. all you can do is wrap your arms around his neck and hold him. he hugs you back, with your backpack in the way. you break the hug and take it off, grumbling about it being in the way. he hugs you again, and you miss how he hugged you. it was with his entire body as one hand held your lower back and his other held your shoulder blades with his fingers apart so you could feel every part of him. he held you like this for a few minutes, the both of you taking everything in. he starts to rub your back to signal to wrap it up soon. you pull away first, “sorry hi, god it’s been forever.” you tell him, trying to hide the obvious blush but failing. “no, no, it’s ok. i can trust you, i feel the same.” schlatt also admits. there’s that beat again. “oh, let me help you with your bag.” he reaches for the bag, but before you can stop him, he’s rolling it over to the car and loading it. he swings around and opens the passenger door for you to get in. you set your backpack on the floorboard, then pull your door closed as he circles around to get back into the driver's seat. 

the drive to schlatt's place is good, with a lot of catching up, giggles, and a smile that won’t leave your face. “so what job are you applying too? you kinda just called me out of the blue and told me you were gonna be here for the weekend.” he asks, eyes on the road. “right!” it was like he reminded you about it, which he smiled at. “it’s a landscape architecture job in downtown austin and the interviews are in the firm’s main office off of like 8th street and congress avenue.” you tell him. “do you need a ride over there? i know exactly where that is.” he offers. his offer could be crossing some boundaries, but what is it really? it’s just one friend driving another friend to a job interview, and you decided to not read into it too much. “yeah, that would be great, thank you.” you look over at him and smile; he sees it and smiles back at you, still facing forwards. during the ride, it’s weird that his hand isn’t resting on your knee or holding your hand; you try not to think about it too much and look out the window as schlatt turns into a neighborhood. he pulls up to the fourth house, pulls in the driveway, and announces, “we’re home.” he gets out and once again opens your door for you, then pops the trunk to get your carry on. you follow him up to the front as he gets the front door for you. walking in, you see a nicely furnished house with golden sunlight pouring through the windows in the living room. on the walls are art and a few achievements schlatt has received in his time online that he didn’t put in his office. you smile after seeing all the progress he’s made on his dream job, and there is a feeling of pride in your chest that someone you loved was able to accomplish all of this.

wait, was that the same feeling of love you had when you dated him? your face scrunchies, then you quickly shake your head to try and banish the thought. “ey, you ok?” schlatt caught you. “um yeah, sorry just nervous about the interview tomorrow.” you lie, turning back to him. “it’s ok, i know you’re gonna kill it with your garden landscapes, or whatever you do these days.” he reassures you then walks past you to show you the guest room. you laugh at his comment and follow him. the room he shows you is cute; there are extra blankets on the bed because you always complain about being cold in your sleep, and a towel on the end of the bed is folded for you to use when you shower. you walk into the room, put your backpack on the floor, leaning against the edge of the bed, and lay your carry-on on the suitcase rack. Schlatt set out for you. you smile at the thought he put into the room on short notice, then turn to him, “um, thank you for all this.” your voice gentle. “don’t mention it, i like doing it for you,” he’s leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed, looking bashful, “but come on, let's go out to dinner. i want you to see the austin night life.” your face falls in shock, “are you sure? please let me pay schlatt,” you ask, walking back up to him. he sighs when you say that, “doll you’re the one looking for a job, you shouldn't be spending shit, come on, my treat.” you finally give in and follow him to the car, hopping in, then driving downtown and to the cutest little restaurant you've ever seen. dinner was good, the food was excellent, and the company you had with schlatt was even better. it was like nothing had changed with either of you, but everything had. however, you were still just as connected. he pays the bill, and then the two of you walk around austin for a while. 

neither of you was drinking, so you knew it wasn't any alcohol that was talking, but schlatt looked beautiful, drenched in the colored lights as you walked past the bars back to his car. you continue to look at him, not looking where you’re going, you trip over a loose brick on the sidewalk. schlatt is somehow able to catch you as he swings you over his left side and holds all your body weight in his arms. his face is about 6 inches from yours, and you can finally see all the little freckles that littered his face, god you missed seeing them in the mornings when he would stay over at your dorm. “you ok toots? ya’ haven’t even had a drop of alcohol.” he jokes, helping you back to your feet. you settle yourself abc on your feet, “woo, thank you for catching me. sorry, i got distracted.” you say as you start to walk along with him again. “about me talkin’ about computer processors?” he asks, his voice unsure. you had no idea he was talking about that. “yep,” you keep your head down in shame but also see where you’re going. you make it back to the car in one piece, and as schlatt drives back to his house, you tell him about other projects in classes you've been working on, and he’s one of the few people you’ve talked to that interested in your field of study, most people just think you build houses.

you and schlatt walk back into a dark and quiet house, a physical sign that everything is still and peaceful. he turns the front light on to lead you back to your room. “hey,” you stop him before he starts saying his goodnights to you, “thank you again for hosting me, and for dinner. i’m really glad you’re in my life again.” you confess. he nods, “i feel the same way.” there’s that beat again, “can i kiss you?” he asks. your breathing stops for a moment to see if this is real. “yeah, please.” you mumble as he walks up to you. he cradles your cheek in his hand as his other hand rests on your hip. your hands wrap around his neck to hold him close as he kisses you. he’s so gentle with you as if you’re made of glass and will shatter at any sudden movement. it feels so natural to be back with him. your head moves to the side to deepen the kiss, and he appreciates it. his hand squeezes tighter, and his other hand moves to your shoulder. you slowly move your position while you’re still kissing him to knock him onto the edge of the bed. he chuckles, knowing what you’re doing as he sits on the bed. you two break apart with schlatt looking up at you, holding onto your hips like you hung the stars and the moon. your hands are on his shoulders as one moves to the back of his neck and into his hair. you give him a knowing smile as you start to play with the hair on his nape and sit on his lap. his grip moves to your ass to get a better hold as he starts to gently kiss your neck. you let out a hum from the missed feeling of his lips on your neck and move your neck so he has more room. just him kissing your neck and holding onto your ass makes you feel incredible, and your hips start moving and grinding into his lap. you feel movement from him directly on your core, and you gasp. he pulls away, “too much? because we can keep going, but if we take our clothes off we’re probably going to have sex, and are you ok with that? because we can just keep doing th-” he was rambling at this point, you cut him off kissing him aggressively. your hands are squeezing down his arms and chest as he finally gets the message, and one of his hands comes up to massage your breast. you moan into his mouth at the action, then pull away, feeling even more turned on then you were. “i really want this schlatt, please i need you.” you confess. his hands focus on the hem of your shirt, and you put your arms off to help him take it off. it’s thrown somewhere on the floor to be forgotten along with your bra. schlatt is only looking at your chest like a man starved, dazed at the sight of your tits. he looks up at you a few moments later, “did they get bigger?” you giggle at his question as your hands move to his shirt and take it off. you kiss him again before hopping off his lap to rummage through your bag. you return to him with a condom and place it on the bed next to schlatt. both of your pants come off as you start to tell schlatt the reason you have condoms in your bag. as he starts to put the condom on, “i was seeing this guy for a minute,” you pause, “nevermind, it doesn't matter i wanna fuck you and only you.” you wrap your body around him again, sitting on his lap as you start to kiss him again.

 he starts to get up to switch positions, your hand rests on his chest and gently push him down. “i wanna be on top jay.” you whisper in his ear as your pussy lips start to grind on his cock. you hadn’t called him jay since he broke up with you. it felt right when you did it, though. you sit up, then sink down onto his cock. schlatt’s hands move to your hips to help you, and your hands rest on top of his as your thighs are holding all your weight. you sit there for a moment to adjust to him again. was he always this big? you swear you never felt him in your lower stomach before. “you ok? we can switch.” schlatt breaks your inner thoughts as he watches your face for any signs of pain or discomfort. you shake your head as a no. “you’re just…bigger then i remember.” you tell him, raising up slowly and then pushing yourself down again. as you start to find a pleasant pattern of you sinking down on him and his hips meeting you, you feel that feeling of pride and love you felt when you first walked into his house bubble up in your chest again. you lean down to kiss it out of you. schlatt kisses you back with the passion that you couldn’t feel radiating off you as he holds your ass and grinds his cock deeper and deeper into you. “fuck fuck fuck, i’m gonna cum jay.” you can feel your core tighten as he continues to drill into you, “hmm me too toots,” he struggles to get out at his hips become more erratic thrusting into you. “schlatt, oh my god baby, baby, fuck!” you feel a snap in your stomach as he thrusts into you chasing his release at the time time. he slows down and holds onto your shoulders, praying you don’t leave now. and you don’t. all your energy is used to look up at him. “i still really really love you.” you gently kiss his jaw. schlatt moves you off of him so you’re laying next to him, still looking at each other; he pulls you in impossibly closer. “i was a fool for breaking up with you, i’ve loved you all this time.”

[ssweetreveries]

fantasy

✩ eunseok x reader x wonbin

. 18+ mdni!

. word count! 2.1k

oneshot, nonidol!eunseok, nonidol!wonbin, afab!reader, bf!eunseok, dom!eunseok, sub!reader, unprotected sex, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), sharing, cumming inside, spit roasting, everything is consensual, smut, fluff, use of petnames (princess, baby, pretty)

author note: saw this tiktok and was like 🫠🫠

i apologize if there’s any mistakes, this isn’t proof read and english isn’t my first language, please bare with me!! enjoy! ><

synopsis: in which your boyfriend helps you live one of your fantasies.

“Ah-ah,” says Eunseok as he pries your hands from your face. “You wanted this, baby, look at him while he pleases you.” he says sternly, his hold on your wrists firm. You squirm as you meet Wonbin’s eyes, looking up at you from in between your legs.

Your breath hitches as you feel his hot breath on your clothed pussy, combined with the look he was giving you. Wonbin’s lips twitched into a smirk as he had your attention and hovered over your core.

“Go on,” Eunseok speaks up, and that’s all Wonbin needs before pulling down your panties and delving in your heat.

“She’s so wet..” Wonbin comments, a teasing hilt in his voice. You let out a strangle moan at the foreign feeling of another man’s tongue licking at your core. “F-fuck..” you stutter out breathlessly.

Eunseok clicks his tongue. “Dirty girl.. Are you really this turned on by another man taking what’s mine?” He asks, tilting your head towards him while Wonbin keeps licking strips up your folds. It’s more of a statement than a question.

Still, you shake your head even though there’s no denying it. Eunseok had teasingly suggested this when he noticed you paying attention to his friend more than usual. Meant to be taken lightheartedly, but when you had remained silent Eunseok easily figured you out. Surprisingly he wasn’t mad, but made it clear that if you did this you were still his. And of course you were, you loved Eunseok, you just couldn’t deny that you might’ve had a physical attraction to Wonbin. You had a long talk that night and that’s how you found yourself in your current situation.

To be frank, you had no clue how Eunseok had managed to convince Wonbin into this but you weren’t gonna question it. This was like a wild fantasy.

You’re brought back to when Wonbin directs his attention to your aching clit, letting out a breathy moan at the feeling. Eunseok strokes your head as he watches with interest from beside you.

Wonbin works his tongue around your sensitive bud, lapping at you like a starved man and your hips involuntarily buck into him, trying to gain more pleasurable pressure. He groans and seems to understand your call for more. His fingers finding their way to your hole, easily inserting two thanks to your wetness.

You moan softly at the entrance, and Eunseok takes this opportunity to tug your hair back and crash his lips to yours, forcing his tongue in your mouth.

You kiss him back messily, hand coming to grip his forearm which is holding your jaw.

His tongue swirls around yours, and you struggle to keep up as the feeling of Wonbin’s fingers thrusting into you and his tongue playing with your sensitive bud is starting to get too much.

Eunseok pulls back with a ‘tsk’ and a soft chuckle. “Seriously, princess? Look at her, already fucked dumb just from your mouth and fingers.” he shakes his head as if it’s ridiculous.

Wonbin looks up with hooded eyes meeting yours, a hazy look in them, and you can feel his smirk against your lips.

You squirm and your legs instinctively come to close as you feel yourself nearing your peak, but a strong hand stops them. Eunseok shoots you a look, a sly smile of his own decorating his features as Wonbin keeps devouring you.

Your moans get progressively louder as you feel yourself getting there, your hand flying to tug on Wonbin’s hair. “W-wait, ah- c-close—“ You stutter out, but Wonbin doesn’t move, continuing to lap at you like his life depends on it.

Eunseok’s hand falls to palm his erection through his pants, watching the scene unfold.

With a breathless moan, you come undone but that does nothing to stop Wonbin from pulling away. You squirm and trash against him, trying to pull yourself away from him but he has a strong grip on your thighs, keeping you close as he licks up all of your juices.

Your legs shake from the overstimulation and you find yourself gripping the sheets, whining in embarrassment. Wonbin finally pulls away and meets your eyes with that smile of his, your arousal dripping down his chin.

“Oh my god..” you mumble as you hide your face in your hands, unable to meet his eyes after that. This time it’s Wonbin who pulls yours hands away. “What did we say about hiding, pretty?” he teases.

You’re about to answer before a groan from beside you catches your attention, finding Eunseok fisting his cock, a frown on his face. “Seokie…” You mutter in awe, feeling yourself getting wet again. No matter how many times you saw your boyfriend, he just had that effect on you.

He groans again, “C’mon princess, you didn’t expect me to just stand there and do nothing, hmm? Imagine how I feel watching my friend making my girl feel good.”

Wonbin steps to the side, letting Eunseok make his way to you. He gently grabs the nape of your neck, pulling you to him, his hot breath against your ear. “That’s my job. I let you have your fun, now it’s Seokie’s turn to have fun, mhm?”

You nod furiously, never would you deny your boyfriend of anything.

It’s his turn to settle in between your legs and he leans down to press his lips to yours, kissing you rather softly before pulling back. He smirks, “Good girl.”

You gasp as he manhandles you, flipping you over so you’re on your stomach and giving your cheek a light slap. “Ass up, baby.”

You listen to him and scramble to your knees, almost forgetting about Wonbin’s presence if it weren’t for the fact that your eyes met.

He looks down at you with a smirk, watching you in amusement as you listen to anything your boyfriend says.

You shiver in delight as Eunseok rubs his length up and down your folds, collecting your wetness to slide in. And, without warning he slams into you with a harsh thrust. One of his hands coming to push down your back, making you arch for him.

You let out a rather loud moan as your body falls forwards, your hands balled into tight fists above your head. Eunseok’s hips snap to yours with a force that makes you see stars, and you know if he keeps this up, even after your previous orgasm, you wouldn’t last long.

The two friends share a look before Eunseok’s hand crawls up your back, grabbing a fist full of your hair before pulling you up against him. With your back pressed to his chest, he stops moving. His chin comes to rest on your shoulder as one of his hands grab your jaw, forcing you to look at Wonbin.

You look at the man who’s now in front of you on the bed, laying back against the headrest. Your boyfriend speaks up again, “Look at him, baby. Look at how hard he is..”

Your eyes flicker to the tent in his pants, and you swear Wonbin’s cheeks turn a slight pink.

Eunseok kisses your jaw before continuing, “Can’t leave poor bbin like this, hm? You can help him right, princess?” he cooes, his hold on you loosening as he nudges you forward.

You meet Wonbin’s eyes as you hover over his lap, not sure if you can do this. “He wants this too, right bbin?”

At your boyfriend’s words, Wonbin finally speaks up and nods. “You gotta help me out here, pretty..” he says as one of his hands brushes against the side of your face.

Eunseok resumes his thrusts as you scramble to unzip Wonbin’s pants. He helps you free his dick, and god, once he’s out you drool at the sight.

His hard length stands tall against his stomach and your hand reaches out to feel him. He lets out a shaky breath as you give him a few tentative pumps. His hand pats your head gently as you stroke him.

Your eyes meet his, and the expression you find is one of bliss. Wonbin’s eyes were glossy, lips slightly parted as he watches you work him.

You clench at the sight of the man in front of you, earning a groan from your boyfriend.

Finally, you bring your lips to his aching dick, licking a few strips up his length before taking him in your mouth.

You swear you’ve never heard a prettier moan than the one that comes out of Wonbin’s lips as you take him in your mouth and swirl your tongue around his tip. The fact that he’s vocal surprises you a bit. Your boyfriend was more one for dirty talk and you were more used to him letting out groans and heavy breaths, only letting out the occasional moans. But you can’t deny that Wonbin’s moan were turning you on even more.

When he notices your full attention on Wonbin, Eunseok’s grip on your hips tighten as he picks up his pace, reminding you of where he has you, almost making you gag around Wonbin from the harsh snap of his hips against yours.

His thick length hits you in all the right places, making it harder to properly focus on the man in front of you. You give Wonbin the best head you can, pumping whatever you can’t fit with in your mouth with a free hand, the other digging into his thigh to stabilize yourself.

You moan around his length as Eunseok’s thrusts make you see stars, the vibrations of your moan earning a soft sound from the man in front of you.

Your boyfriend is hitting you in all the right places and you don’t think you’ll last much longer if he keeps this up.

You pull off Wonbin with a ‘pop’, your head turning to find Eunseok behind you.

“S-seok, can’t-! C-close, m’so close!” you whine out.

Eunseok doesn’t slow down his pace, if anything his thrusts become more precise. “Mhmm yeah? My princess wants to come?” he smirks as he pulls you back against him, having you in the same position as earlier.

He nibbles the shell of your ear, his hot breath making you shiver. “Think you deserve it, baby?”

You whine and nod, “P-please Seokie, c-can’t hold b-back any-”

He lets out a ‘tsk’ but his hand snakes down to your sensitive bud. His lips attach to the skin of your neck, “You’re lucky your Seokie loves you, princess.” he mumbles against you.

With the added stimulation to your clit, you come undone within seconds, letting out a long moan, shaking and trembling in his hold. Both his thrusts and his hand don't stop though, and you let out a cry at the overstimulation. “Too much- s’too much! S-seok-!”

“Almost there, princess.” He groans out, “You can take it for me.”

You whine as he continues to abuse your spent cunt.

With a particularly hard thrust he stills inside of you, painting your walls white. Your legs shake uncontrollably at the feeling of his release, pushing another small orgasm out of you.

Eunseok tilts your head towards him, pressing kisses up your jaw until finally connecting his lips to yours. “You did so good, princess.” He whispers against your ear.

He presses a last kiss to your cheek before slowly pulling out of you.

You slump down on the bed as he lets go of you, and you direct your attention to the poor forgotten man in front of you, seething himself back in his pants. “Wonbin-” you start to apologize, but he quickly shuts you up.

“I’m fine, pretty, really. You did amazing” he smiles as he gives you a pat on the head. You now realize that Wonbin had gotten himself off to the sight of the two of you.

You smile apologetically before a blanket is thrown over your form. Eunseok walks over to you, himself fully clothed now and he pulls you to him.

He presses a kiss to your head. “Was it what you wanted, baby?”

You hum at his question. Honestly, it was more than you ever expected you could have.

Wonbin and Eunseok exchange a look, before your boyfriend speaks up again. “Mhm, that’s good. We had fun too, right?”

Wonbin nods with a smile of his own, and you find yourself smiling with them.

—————————————————————————

Wonbin insisted on leaving even if Eunseok told him he could stay over in the guest room, so now the two of you find yourself laying in bed together.

Eunseok holds you close to him, your head resting against him as you trace patterns on his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re mine, you know that right?”

Even though of your experience with Wonbin, you knew you only truly loved Eunseok. Yes, Wonbin was attractive, but that’s all it was to you. Eunseok was your everything and you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

You tiredly smile up at him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Only yours, seokie.”

[rafeandonlyrafe]

the same tv

words: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, parent death, funerals, robbery, redemption/forgiveness, addiction, drinking (wine, not like hard drinking), tickling, cockwarming, they call themselves kids at one point but at no point are reader or rafe under 18, like itll make sense once you read it in context

the first thing you do when you enter your house is kick off your shoes. the next is to stop holding back your tears as they stream down your face. you can't even sob anymore, just silent, steady tears.

you sigh as you look around the entryway. there's been some changes since you moved away, despite only being out of your parents house for a little over a year. they replaced the grand portrait that was of your mom's parents with one of you, now taking the place of honor.

you look away before you get to the rest of the family photos. you've seen enough at the funeral. you walk further in to the house, bare feet against the shiny wood floor.

you pause when you hear something further in. you haven't forgotten how the old house seemed to speak, groaning and settling during strong winds or when too many people were crammed between it's walls.

this sound seems different, but you're also occasionally sniffling, your ears are shot from blasting music in an attempt to distract yourself, so you shrug it off and walk further into the living room.

the sound suddenly makes sense as you see someone stood in your living room, arms holding up your parents flat screen television, awkwardly trying to carry it.

you aren't even mad. you honestly don't care about the tv. or the fact that someone is trying to rob you.

you let out a bitter laugh before you sink to the floor. “of fucking course this happens.” you are glad you still have your purse slung from your shoulder as you pull your wallet out, quite aggressively throwing it at the robber who has now frozen.

“what?” he questions, lowering the tv to the ground and pushing his hood of his head, a dumb move for someone currently committing a crime.

“this has been the worst week of my life and now you're robbing me. just my fucking luck…” you let out a broken sob. “just take whatever you want and leave.”

the only things that matter to you still in the house aren't actually worth anything anyways. the photos of your parents, your dad's cologne that's half empty, the oak tree that your childhood dog is buried next to.

“i thought the people who lived here died.”

you pick your head up, a look of fury overtaking your face.

“they did. they're my fucking parents! and now they're gone and you're fucking robbing me! get the fuck out!” you stand up, pushing at the robbers chest.

he looks familiar, like you should know who he is but can't place him.

“im-shit. im sorry.” he says, allowing you to shove him away and out the door. 

“im really fucking sorry!” he yells again before you slam the door shut.

-- years later --

you park your car in the driveway instead of pulling it all the way into the garage like you know you should, but you need to know if you're correct about the man sitting on your front step.

“you're the kid that tried to rob me.” you say as you walk the sidewalk to the porch.

“yes.” he says, looking ashamed and a whole lot more grown up. “i was an addict and i owed a debt. my dad had just kicked me out of the house and i was on my own for the first time. it was stupid of me, but when i heard the people living here died, i thought it'd be a victimless crime.”

he sighs deeply, like even just thinking back to that time physically hurts. “i didn't even think that someone could have inherited the house. im so, so sorry.” 

he swallows thickly. “my mom died when i was young. my dad- my dad just died recently. he faked his death and i got him back, but he's actually gone this time. you know what you said about the worst week in your life?”

you think back those years. it's mostly a blur, especially the days surrounding your parents car crash and funeral, but you do remember breaking down in front of the robber. you nod gently, waiting to hear the end of his speal.

“i know what you mean now. and im sorry i hurt you. im sorry about your parents dying.” he pulls something out of his pocket, extending his hand.

you look into his open palm, realizing it's a ornate gold necklace.

“no.” you shake your head. “you keep it. you don't need to bribe me to forgive you.”

“i want you to have it.” he says. “it's… it's not a lot, but it's something. something to help make up for what ive done.”

you reach forward, carefully taking the necklace out of his outstretched hand, carefully not to accidentally bump his skin. 

“thank you.” you say, admiring the way the sun gleams off the metal. 

“im rafe, by the way. rafe cameron.”

“y/n.” you respond, undoing the clasp of the necklace.

“here, let me.” he takes it out of your hands, moving quicker than you can think as he steps around you. your hair is already up in a bun, so rafe is able to reach around and easily place the chain around your neck.

“thank you.” the weight of the necklace feels comfortable against your skin, like it's the last finishing touch you need. you are wearing your mother's earrings, your father's bracelet, and now you have the other piece of what made that time in your life so miserable, your robbers necklace.

“i… i guess ill be going now.” rafe says.

you turn and watch him walk away. you recognize so much of your former self in him, the clear grieving he's going through.

“are you sober now?” you call out before he reaches the end of your driveway.

“sober enough.” he shouts back. rafe doubts he'll ever truly be clean, but he can at least manage now, doesn't need the drugs like he used to.

“then come back for dinner tomorrow. we can talk.”

you can see the smile stretch over his features. “ill be there.”

-- three months later --

“shit.” rafe says, head snapping over to you. “this is the same tv.”

you giggle and nod, surprised it took him so long to realize. “i never really watch tv on the actual tv, so no need to replace it.” you shrug, the gold necklace still draped over your neck. you haven't taken it off except to shower and sleep.

“god, thats crazy.” rafe looks over to you. “imagine if we just talked back then.” 

you shake your head. “you just think you want that because we get along now. we were both in bad places.”

“you don't think we would have been hooking up back then?” rafe asks, raising an eyebrow at you, watching the way your thighs press together at the mere mention of hooking up, already feeling the urge to sleep with rafe even after having sex only a couple of hours ago.

“we were two scared kids. if we were hooking up we definitely shouldn't have been.” you giggle, reaching your wine glass out for rafe to refill, which he is glad to pour a more than healthy amount in.

“and now?” rafe looks down at his lap.

“and now we are two slighty less scared slightly older kids.” you giggle again, taking a deep sip before leaning across the couch cushion to press a kiss to rafes cheek, the movie you had put on long forgotten.

“rafe.” you wait until he looks you in the eye. “im here for you.”

“god, what have i done to deserve you?” rafe wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you on top of him as he flops back onto the couch. 

you let out a laugh before it's cut off with his lips. he kisses you heavily, hand against the back of your head, not allowing you to pull away, not that you want to.

you let himself get lost in your kiss. you wish you had someone to support you in the time you needed most, and you're determined to be that person for rafe now.

rafe easily dominates your mouth even though he's underneath you as you quickly work your shorts off, wiggling against him until your bottom half is nude.

you press against rafes crotch, still covered by his sweatpants. you feel his cock straining against the fabric as you rub your pussy against it, wetting the gray material.

“baby, please.” rafe groans. he would pull his cock out himself, but his hands are preoccupied holding you close to him as if his life depends on it.

“oh, now you don't like teasing?” you smile.

“alright, i deserve this.” rafe also manages a chuckle despite his straining erection. “but please. need to feel your pussy ‘round me.”

“alright.” you roll your eyes dramatically. you'll have to get revenge on rafe at a different time for edging you the other night.

you push his pants down his thighs until you're able to reach into his underwear and pull out his cock. you give him a few quick strokes before lining up your entrance and sinking down.

rafe let's out a moan, barely pulling his face away from yours. “you're so wet.”

“it's almost like i like you or something.” you roll your eyes.

rafe laughs before kissing you again, hand moving up to your hair, tangling his fingers between the strands.

you sit on his cock for a moment, adjusting, before beginning to move, up then down, up then down, subtle movements of your hips, not needing anything fast, wanting drawn out, wanting it to last.

the movie is long over by the time rafe finally cums, a hand finally moving down to rub your clit to make sure you get off at the same time as his.

by the time you're both satisfied, you're sweaty and exhausted. you don't even bother to pull off his cock as you rest your head against his chest.

“thank you.” rafe says softly, rubbing his hand over your back. you don't need to ask what for. you know. for being there. you'll always be there.

you look up at him, a small smile on your face. “how are we gonna tell people we met?”

things are quickly getting serious, and while he hasn't breached the subject with you yet, neither of you have been hiding how quickly you're falling.

“what, you think it's a problem that we met when i was robbing you?” rafe says, making you giggle, only intensified by his hand pressing into your side, fingers tickling you as you howl with laughter.

rafe flips you over onto your back so you're underneath him, keeping his cock pushed inside of you.

“maybe we should just tell people we met on tinder.” rafe shrugs.

you roll your eyes. “somehow that's more embarrassing.”

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[gatorbites-imagines]

Are you taking request? If so idk if you know anything about Booster Gold but I'll give you half a sandwich to write him getting railed.

Michael Jon Carter x male reader

ficlet

I love booster gold, hes one of my favourite DC characters and I wanna keep him in my pocket. I have my own headcanons that I sprint with, and I want to crack him like a glowstick, so enjoy my headcanons for future gender and gender presentation. bread.

I really wanted to write about his butt, but somehow I didn’t. sigh, maybe another day then. no outright railing, but enjoy anyways.

I could really eat a sandwich, but make sure its dark ryebread, I don’t eat white

“Really babe? This is what you’re into?” Michael questioned as he pulled the sheer fabric up his ankles, strong calves, up his strong sculpted knees where he had to give a small jump to slide it up all the way. The skirt was short, nowhere near the type of thing you would be allowed to wear in public. It felt more like useless ruffles added on for dramatic effect.

The soft blue fabric of the panties he wore left little to the imagination. Being from the future where most people had been perfected also meant Michael was perfect down there, which resulted in the panties being filled to the brim.

The lingerie didn’t make much sense to Michael, well, some of it did. But the lip-gloss and makeup made it all a little more confusing. The past was strange, gendering literally everything to the point where it was a kink to see fit muscular men like him being feminine. But hey, Michael liked it when you spat in his mouth and treated him like dirt, so who was he to judge.

At least Michael knew how to do his makeup, even if he had to look up some tutorials for it to fit the current year’s standards. Some blush here, some contour and highlighter there, a little bit of this, and a little bit of that. As dumb as people thought he was, Michael knew how to do his research, even if he had Skeets help him look it up.

Michael could almost hear your shaky breathing through the bathroom door, where he was standing, adjusting the cups of the bralette attached to the lingerie. It did stroke his ego so much. Michael knew he was hot by the year’s standards, even if he was just average in his time. It still made blood rush south knowing he was so yearned after, even with all the embarrassing things he did trying to be a hero.

Being told he was charming and endearing was new, which was how you had caught Michael’s attention the first time. He was used to being called hot, but endearing? After he had just crashed right into you because of something dumb he did? Oh, did his heart start racing. One thing led to another, and now here he was, reapplying his lip-gloss one last time to make sure his lips really popped.

Dressing feminine by the pasts standards didn’t do much to Michael, since clothes weren’t gendered the same way in his time. There were still gendered things obviously, but it wasn’t as extreme as the past. It did still make him feel pretty and vulnerable, so there was that.

“You ready babe?” he cooed, stepping into the heels that had been specially ordered to fit him, since they apparently didn’t make heels in his size in the past. Michael swore he could hear you gulp through the door, before you panted out a breathless “God, yes”.

The bathroom door opened with a creak, Michael grinning like the minx he was as he sauntered you like a cat. You were dressed up in a button-up, tie and slacks, it was part of the fantasy. Something about a husband working long hours and his wife greeting him when he came back home. It was an ancient scenario, something Michael only knew from old movies and novels they had to read in school.

Seeing your pupils blow wide as your hands trembled made Michael suppress a needy noise of his own. “There he is, my hardworking husband” he purred, lashes drooping and making him as alluring as a succubus.

Michael still didn’t really get it as he crawled into your lap, how the whole gender dynamic thing could be so exciting for you, but it was fun to pretty himself up and be borderline worshipped. He didn’t even mind being called a girl or wife, it wasn’t like Michael preferred one pronoun over the other, and he loved how you kissed him like you wanted to devour him, leaving him gasping for air.

And so what if he started enjoying the feeling of lace, and started wearing it most days? It made him feel hot and desirable. And the time his suit was shredded during a fight, Ted was the one who made it weird, it’s just clothes. Clothes that make his boyfriend hard as a rock, but clothes nonetheless.

[ynsvnte]

Glimpse of Us — Sim Jaeyun

Genre: smut (18+ MDNI) fluff, est. relationship

word count: 1.2k

warnings: swearing, pet names, unprotected sex, kissing, aftercare, pulling-out method, overstimulation, praising, tummy-bulge?, Rough-ish sex.

pairing: bf!jake x fem!reader

Masterlist

You're relaxing on the balcony of your shared home with Jake, your boyfriend. It's late at night and you can’t fall asleep, you didn’t want to bother Jake either. You sat on one of the chairs set outside and looked down onto the city. Some building lights are still on, so you admire the view in front of you. Grabbing your cup of water you take a sip of it before settling it down.

You hear noise instead of your bedroom so you take a small peek, but Jake seems to be asleep. You go back to the position you were in before. Few minutes pass, only silence filling the air. Everyone in the neighbor is asleep away in their beds, but you..wide awake. Or so you thought..that’s when you hear the balcony door open, you turn your head towards the sound and see Jake awake.

“Baby..? Why are you awake..?” He asked with a raspy voice. He rubs his eyes to clear his vision. You smiled at the sight of him. “Oh..I couldn’t sleep…” Jake raised an eyebrow. “Babe, you could’ve just asked me..”

“But you looked so comfortable sleeping. I didn’t want to disturb that.” You tried explaining yourself. “Still just wake me up next time..also how long have you been out here?” Jake asks you. “Only like 20 minutes..”

“20 minutes!?! Babe it’s so fucking late at night!” Jake was surprised to say the least. Jake takes a seat next to you, and grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers together. “Don’t ever do this again..” Jake warned you, but you only nodded your head.

You both sit there in silence before you speak up. “Do-do you think we’ll be together forever?” You asked. “What do you mean darling?” Jake was concerned about what you asked. “I mean do you think we’ll never go different ways, breaking up?”

“Yn…that’s such a dumb question…I’ll never leave you ever..” his words weren’t convincing. “I don’t believe you..” you said. “Yn I mean it, I love you a lot to not leave you. I want you to mine forever.”

“Prove it..” You said. Jake then crashes your lips together taking you by surprise, but you kiss him back. Jake pulls away from the kiss before dragging you inside your shared bedroom. He closes the door behind you and pushes you onto the bed before caging you between his arms.

“Oh I’ll show you sweetheart..” he said with a deep voice before kissing you hard. You moan into the kiss and enjoy the way he is kissing you. You can feel your panties getting soaked immediately. You’re only in underwear and one of Jake’s shirts that fits you a bit large. Jake grabs the end of your shift lifting it off you, revealing your soaked through panites. Making you flustered. “You’re already so wet, hmmm? Never knew you were this...desperate” You could only whimper at his words. You close your eyes before Jake taps your face. “Hey, eyes on my eye sweetheart.”

“S-sorry” you were embarrassed. Jake grips your hips before pulling down your panites revealing your bare cunt to him. “F-fuck…princess your so wet, all for me..” Jake says before pinning your legs around his arms and begins to lap on your clit. You let out a loud moan, trying to lower your voice. “Hey…don’t hide your moans, be loud, I want everyone to hear how good I’m making you feel.” And so you do. Moaning Jake’s name out loud. Enjoying the pleasurable sensation you're currently receiving. Soon enough you feel you high coming. “J-Jake..fuck I’m close!!” You legs wrapped around Jake’s head trapping him between your legs. Jake is not complaining though. He loves being in between your legs. That’s when it reaches its peak. You let out a loud whimper making Jake smirk.

“There baby, but you can give me one more right..? Such a good girl” He said. You nodded your head agreeing. You slightly sit yourself up, mind heavy from your orgasm. You close your eyes, but open them when you hear clothes rustling. You open your eyes quickly, seeing Jake undress. You can feel yourself getting wet again. Gosh really.

Jake finished undressing and climbed on top of you, before kissing you. You melt into the kiss enjoying it. “I would keep kissing you but I need to be inside of you right now…” Jake settles between your legs and puts his tip near your entrance. With one thrust he’s inside making you moan out loud. “J-Jake, what about a condom?” You don’t want to get pregnant, especially at a young age. “Shhh don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll pull out.” Let’s hope he does.. Jake began thrust slowly..wanting you to get used to his size. “Feels good?” He asks you. You nodded.

“Use your words sweetheart” Jake lifted you head with his other hand, forcing you to look at him. Jake slowly began to pick up the pace, going faster and harder. You hands began gripping the bed sheets until that’s when Jake grabs both of your arms and uses one hand to hold both of arms above your head. Leaving your hands to shuffle around in his hands due to the pleasure.

“Fuck you feel so good, all f’me” Jake was now stuttering his words. Jake was getting pussy drunk. He loved the way your walls felt around his cock. “Ha- Jake..I’m getting close…” You felt a tight knot. And Jake takes the opportunity to press onto the bulge forming. “You feel that sweetheart, that’s my cock…made for you only you..wanna mark you as mine, but I promised to come inside..mhm-fuck” Jake starts pounding in you harder, the sound of skin slapping against each other filling up the room. They only get tighter each passing second.. “Jake..so close please…” Jake ignored your words and soon enough your orgasm hit you. Jake continues to pound into you trying to reach his own high. While accidentally overstimulating you. “Babe..too much” you pleaded begging him to try to stop. Your legs were shaking, you were helpless, hands locked by one of his hands pinning it down.

Jake can feel himself getting closer, but he doesn’t want to pull out. He’s not the type of person to break his promise so just for you, As soon as his high is very close, he pulls out and starts jerking off on top of your cunt. That’s when it hits, his cum lands onto your tummy. Slowly dripping down to your cunt..He’s exhausted, legs weak. Jake lays next to you, catching his breath, before facing you.

“You alright sweetheart?” He asks you. He didn’t want to hurt. He wants to blame you because why does your cunt have to feel good? “Yeah…I’m fine..” you said while you try to sit up only to meet with a pain in your thighs..oh you were going to be sore by the morning.. “We can take a quick bath..clean you all up..” Jake insisted. You nodded your head, and closed your eyes. You can feel Jake get out of the bed and walk towards the bathroom, you begin to fall asleep.

That’s when Jake comes back a few minutes later.. “Baby, the bath is ready..” you signal him to get closer, Jake face is in front of yours so you take the chance to kiss him. He chuckles at your actions. He picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. At Least now you can get some sleep.

Author’s Notes: soo.. um this was going to be a one shot, but kind of gave up on that idea soo now you all shall receive this Drabble and I hoped you enjoyed it 😁 I like this WAY MORE than the heeseung one 😔

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

[jasmineoolongtea]

hii!! i recently just started following you and i don’t wanna overload you with anything so i stress that i urge you to take your time and if you feel like you need to tweak anything then you can since i noticed you barely opened requests :)) i was just wondering if you could write something ( whether it be headcanons or a fic ) about gojo having a jujutsu sorcerer for a girlfriend / partner and his students don’t know so they’re all shocked when they just see this badass person next to gojo and he just casually introduces them as his partner lol. just a thought!! make sure to take care of yourself 💕

a/n: thank you smmmm for the kind words <333 yes omg i love this idea and honestly, i imagine gojo pretending to be chill on the outside but on the inside he's fangirling the same way his students are over his partner cause he's just so whipped and down bad for them jdjsndnsbd

"Shhhh! Quiet down, you two or you're gonna get us all caught." Nobara hisses through her teeth at Megumi and Yuji, trying her best to be quiet. It was quite a comical sight actually, the three students were all stacked on top of each other as they all attempted to crane their necks into the doorway as discretely as they possibly could.

"I still don't understand why we can't just ask like normal people." Megumi sighs, clearly exasperated at his friend's antics.

"You're such a buzzkill, Fushiguro." Nobara scolds him over her shoulder. It was like he didn't even understand the gravity of this situation.

This wasn't a situation where they could just waltz in and chat it up like regular unless they were intent on embarrassing themselves. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to meet the current rising star of the jujutsu world: the newly minted special-grade sorcerer L/N Y/N who was famed for being highly elusive, never being in one place for too long to be tied down to somewhere.

Rumours and stories were constantly swirling about you ranging from the more serious ones about your incredible feats of jujutsu and how you managed to exorcise a grade 1 curse for one of your very first missions without breaking a single sweat to more silly ones like that you only wash your face with the purest spring water that was imported from the Swiss Alps and that allegedly you and Gojo Satoru were seeing each other. She thought the last one was particularly dumb as she was sure that a person of your calibre would have better taste than to date their man-child of a teacher, even if he was the strongest. Whatever it was, Nobara was not going to let those two ruin her chances of possibly being able to talk with you face to face.

Above her, Yuji groans out in pain as he feels an elbow jam into his stomach.

"Hey! That hurts!" Yuji complains loudly, his grip tightening around the wooden door frame.

"Can't you be in pain more quietly?" Nobara asks and with that, the two of them were sent into a bickering spat as they traded harsh whispers and snappy comments. However, this would prove to be their end as Megumi eventually loses his balance from all of the commotion above him and tumbles onto the floor with the other two following suit as they land in what can only be described as a failed human pretzel.

Unfortunately, their crash was not as quiet as Nobara was hoping for as one of the office's inhabitants stood up from his seat, seemingly made aware of their presence. "Oh? It seems like we have some eavesdroppers in our midst."

You hum to yourself, your back still facing the doorway as you turn to your white-haired companion. "Is that true?"

"Yes, I think I might know who they are as well. If only they would be so brave enough to reveal themselves." Gojo sighs dramatically, even bringing a hand to his chest as if to feign sympathy. You can't help but giggle softly at his behaviour.

The three of them take that as their cue to stand up, dusting themselves off as they slowly make their way into the office in a single file line. When Nobara sees you, she can't even let herself fully fangirl because the amount of embarrassment she has at getting caught trying to eavesdrop is far outweighing it right now.

Gojo makes his way towards his students as they stand lined up, his hands rubbing together and a devious grin on his face as he puts on his best menacing voice. "Now now now, what do we have here?"

"Satoru, take it easy on them. I'm sure they meant no harm by it." You place a hand on his shoulder as you stroll up to his side. His arms immediately fall to his side as he melts under your touch.

An adorable pout graces his features, his bottom lip jutted out in an attempt to put on his best puppy dog look as he whines at you, "Awww, but you're ruining my funnn. I don't get that many opportunities to do this."

"Sensei, they know you by your first name?" Yuji questions, his head tilted slightly to the side as he tries to figure out what relationship you two could possibly have.

A sly snicker is heard from Gojo as he quirks his eyebrows towards you. "They know me in a lot more ways than just that" he quips back, his tone bordering on being an outright innuendo.

You roll your eyes affectionately at him, clearly used to his playful nature by this point, and give him a light shove on the shoulder to which he pretends to exaggeratedly nurse in pain.

"Sorry for not introducing myself properly, my name is L/N Y/N and I'm a special-grade sorcerer here on a visit to Tokyo Jujustu High." You smile warmly at your boyfriend's students, your hands clasped in front of you as you greet them.

Nobara could feel her breath hitch in her throat as a million thoughts ran through her mind. Oh my god, you, her idol, were actually right in front of her and were acknowledging her. She swears she could die happy right this instance but that would mean that she wouldn't get to take full advantage of the chance to talk to you fully. With that, she snaps out of her star-struck daze and politely inquires, "If you don't mind me asking L/N-san, what are you here for?"

"Oh, they're here to visit yours truly, me!" Gojo chimes in, a megawatt grin on his face with a sense of pride radiating off of him as he motions to himself.

A tsk sound escapes Nobara, clearly distrustful of her teacher's statement. "Yeah right, they have way more important things to be doing than that."

"But it's true though! My lovely partner is here to pay a surprise visit to me!"

"There's no way that that's true. You and them?" As if to punctuate her point, she points at you and Gojo standing side by side and firmly shakes her head. "Nuh uh. They wouldn't date the likes of you."

A soft smack is heard as Gojo theatrically clutches his chest, stumbling back from where he stands to drape himself over you. "It wounds me to hear you say that Kugisaki." He claims, his expression twisted into one of faux pain. When he turns to face you, his demeanour suddenly switches as he leans in towards your ear, a roughish smile on his face with a faintly seductive lilt to his voice. "Maybe we should kiss to prove that it's true."

"Don't be crude, Satoru, they're your students and they're right in front of us." You try to brush him off of you in an attempt to spare his students from becoming witnesses to their teacher's love for PDA but he doesn't let go of his grip, instead choosing to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck as if trying to coax you to stay with him in his embrace. Like always, you relent to his touch with your fingers carding through his snowy locks, a soft sigh of approval leaving his lips.

There's a beat of silence as Nobara and Yuji try to process what they've just learned and the fact that they've just seen a visual confirmation of it before that peace is shattered and they erupt into a thousand questions. You field all of their burning questions ranging from ones about you to about your relationship with Gojo with grace, amused and endeared by their excitement and insatiable curiosity. Secretly, it warms your heart deeply that Gojo and his students are so comfortable with each other and that he can be himself around them without the pressure of the greater Jujutsu world on his back.

You turn to look at the clock and sigh at how fast time has gone by. "Alright, I'll see you at home Satoru and Megumi." You comment, packing up your belongings as you get ready to leave to attend to some business. Gojo leans down to your height as you place a lingering kiss against his cheek and wave him and his students goodbye.

Unblinking, Yuji and Nobara turn to each other and then to Megumi before they exclaim simultaneously. "You all live together!?"

Oh boy, Megumi knows he's going to be in for an earful with that.

[lvmimis]

cw: toxic!endo. out of pocket behavior. reader with some confidence. sexual situation but only suggestive for female reader. blowjob mention. drug mention (smoking, weed).

When you finally pull back the beaded curtain in the shithole Endo’s been calling his hideout these days, the plume of smoke and cheap weed is thick enough to make your eyes water, and it takes just a few more steps into the room for you to immediately get pissed off.

Summoned like the simpering woman you are, you showed up, and find yourself standing transfixed at the entrance. Endo texted you to meet, and here you are, coming when you’re called, just to see his head thrown back in an armchair in the corner, one arm resting on the back of the seat, and the fingers of his free hand twisted into a woman’s hair. The pleasure on his face, even from this distance, is enough to make you suspect that he might actually be about to cum directly into her mouth, as if you’re not standing right there, a moderate look of disgust on your face. The woman in question of course doesn’t notice you, particularly adept and focused on slobbering all over his cock, the loud music in the background camouflaging both your steps and the eye contact you’re now holding with the man she’s currently spit-shining; he’s spotted you the second you arrive in the corner, arms crossed over your chest, and has the gall to smile at you, that fanged grin that makes you question if he’s a demon.

You don’t say a word until he’s jerked his head back abruptly, letting out a soft gasp that’s barely audible, the one you’ve always found cute and embarrassingly unlike him (and yet so him), and you know he’s actually done it, called you to come over just to watch him ejaculate in someone else’s mouth.

Once the shudder’s run through his body, he’s quick to yank the nameless (you’ll never ask and you don’t fucking care) woman’s head off of him, and grin down at her. 

“That’s enough. Good job.”

For a moment you size her up - the kneeling, half-naked figure in between his legs, licking soft full lips with a cum covered tongue, shaking full and thick curled locks as she opens her mouth to let him know she’s swallowed it all. Endo leans in and pats her on the cheek, then looks towards you.

“Fuck off for a bit. I have company.”

Obedient and doting, something you’re not, she scampers off, a glance at you with sweet, lust-filled eyes, and as she passes you, you wonder if it would be bad form to check her like a hockey player hard enough she crashes into the wall, but instead let your eyes slide back to your ex-boyfriend with his pants down to his ankles.

“Why’d you call me?” You can’t exactly conceal the snap in your voice, but as long as you keep it to annoyance rather than hurt, you still have the upper hand.

He grins and leans forward, not bothering to re-robe. You could kick him in the balls right now, fracture them and prevent the propagation of douchebags of his specific lineage in perpetuity but instead you allow him to keep his half-hard cock hanging in the breeze. 

It’s still pretty, though. 

“Thought I’d give you a show.”

You imagine your hand closing around the infinity tattoo on his neck for a moment, then smile.

“Was she good?” you ask, coolly. 

“Not as good as you,” he says. His teeth flash again as he grabs a still dimly lit cigarette from an ashtray beside him. “In fact, I missed you the whole time.”

“You mean in the two minutes just now?” you ask, eyebrow raised.

“Nah, the forty minutes it took you to run your pretty dumb ass here the second you got my text,” he says, taking a puff. You bite your inner cheek to prevent him from letting him know that one smarted. Heart pounding regardless of how calm you keep your external demeanor, you remind yourself that Endo’s prime directive is fucking with you. Fucking you, fucking up your life, fucking you good in every way of the word. 

You have to do it back. 

Taking a couple steps forward, you move up to him. He doesn’t flinch for a moment, even when you’ve come so close, you’re within slap distance.

“You miss me, don’t you?” you whisper, in the sultry, honeyed voice you know makes him sick, has his breath drawn and straggled any time you’re under or on top. Your lips are just inches apart, and he pulls back for just a moment, his other hand pulling his cigarette out of his mouth.

You throw your leg around his spread ones, amused that he naturally closes his legs to give you space, but you don’t sit. He’s half hard; soon he’ll be at full mast if you keep this going. Your hands rest on his shoulders gently, just enough to remind him he’s in no position of power here, even if he thinks he is. 

“You’re settling for less now, that must be so sad,” you tease.

His eye twitches for a moment, but before he can don a mask again, you let your hands move to his face and tilt his head backwards to look at you properly. He sucks in a breath and you chuckle.

“You must miss me so bad to pull this,” you practically sing, your thumb creeping to the corner of his mouth, then tugging gently. He’s entranced, embarrassing, and soon your thumb works its way into his mouth until he’s sucking, his hands finding their way onto your hips.

“Pathetic,” you hiss. Your knee is in the perfect position to ruin his entire night with a trip to the hospital, but you choose the high road. Something Endo knows nothing about.

Slipping your finger out of his mouth, you step back and motion as though you’re about to pull off your shirt, only to have him rise and follow you, and flip him off instead.

“I’ll let her know you’re ready for round two, Yamato-kun,” you mock, pointing to the hard length between his thighs and he gives you angry look but his next step has him practically tripping on his pants, as you find your way out and consider, perhaps, you could find your own warm, deserving, body to grace with your attention.

The same one he clearly and desperately craves.

[pieisstillgood]

𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪𖤐 Defying the First Order 𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪𖤐

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Summary: You're a member of the resistance taken captive by General Hux. His ship crashes leaving you stranded on a strange planet together.

Author's note: I will also be uploading my fics on Ao3 if you prefer to read there. I upload there after I upload here, I will include a link once it is up there. I hope ya'll enjoy <3

☆Here is the link to it on Ao3☆

Content warning: smut, p in v

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

We ran out of water a few days ago. The only reason he shared what little he had with me was so he didn't have to drag around dead weight. I've been stuck on a forest planet with one General Hux handcuffed to my left hand for days now. The chain connecting us must've been made for some giant beast because it drags against the floor if we are not standing far enough apart. Apparently, he didn't want me running off. Most of his time is spent glaring at me and grumbling disagreements with every decision that has been made since we crashed. "We should be staying with the ship, waiting for rescue" His ever-present annoyance makes itself evident with his continued whining; he tramples his way through the flora, making sure every creature around can hear his privilege in every footstep. "Do you want to die of dehydration?" I finally turn toward him, no longer dragging him behind but glaring at him from my disadvantaged height.

"Your rescue isn't coming, at least not anytime soon" He fails to comprehend that his rescue means my ruin, and I can not stand idly by while my downfall grows ever near. He was getting mad too, this whole venture had just been silence and yelling taking turns filling the air between us. "So what? We wander the woods aimlessly till we find water?" I roll my eyes so hard it hurts. How dumb does this guy think I am? "No dumbass, unlike you, I have a handful of survival skills. We're following the moss" If he wasn't looking at me like I'm crazy before, he sure is now. "The moss... We're following... the moss." His pissed tone transitioned nicely to a sarcastic one. It was apparent that he didn't believe a word I was saying and probably thought I was trying to waste his time and energy. This is partially true, but I really do want to find water, and following the direction of moss is the best way I can think of.

He stepped so close to me that our faces were a breath apart. We've both been very easy to aggravate since we ran out of water. I try to force him away from me to re-form what little space possible with our current situation. But he takes my light shove as a sign of aggression and grabs my wrist hard. He pushes me and drives my back against a nearby tree. I can feel the roughness of the barks through my clothes from the amount of pressure he uses to pin me between his body and the tree. "Fuck off Red" I bite back.

His anger is now only visible from the tension in the air and the strain on my wrist he has yet to release. His face holds a calm and cold expression I can't read. I try to squirm out of his grasp but he only leans against me harder. His head lowers to my ear as he practically whispers "You should show more respect towards your betters" Smugness coating his voice.

Heat overtakes me, from the anger boiling under my skin to the warmth of his body pressed against mine. There are other feelings present, that I don't want to think about or admit. He may be hot as hell, but he is still the enemy. To think about how damn alluring I find him, or how his scent takes over my senses whenever he is near, is a betrayal of my home and the rebellion.

Speaking of smells. I smelled it before I heard it; sniffing the air a few times to make sure my mind wasn't playing tricks. He looks at me strangely but loosens his grip on me when he notices my attention is elsewhere. I can smell the moisture in the air, and hear the soft sound of a stream. I pick up my pace, dragging him behind me the best I can to the source of my excitement. The long chain connecting us helped.

I come face to face with a cliffside. There is a slight alcove with a steady stream of water rolling from the top of the cliff to disappear on the floor of the rocky nook. All too suddenly I am jolted backward from a hard tug on the long chain connecting us. Hux pulled me close with a hard look in his eyes that told me all he wanted to say. 'Me first, rebel scum' He walked with purpose past me. Oh fuck no. I grab the chain with both hands and yank it as hard as possible. He stumbles backward as I take the opportunity to sprint towards the water.

I feel tension against the chain before slamming against the ground. My side hits the dirt as my chained hand falls above my head. I roll onto my back and let out a low pained groan. The sun above me shines bright and blinding. Hux's shadow drifts over me as he strolls over. The reprieve from the sun's light was almost welcomed if it didn't come from him. He holds a smug smirk as he looks down at me and my resentful expression. "I hope you know how much I hate you" I grumble out as I glare up at him. "The feeling is mutual" He states flatly before making his way to the stream. I push myself off of the ground before following after.

He practically drags me forward, his focus is solely on the source of water. I have to stand and watch as he points his head high and drinks from the only nearby water source; his Adam's apple is prominent with water cascading down his face and neck. He closes his eyes as he drinks; a slight moan of relief passes his lips. Once he had his full he washed his face and wet his hair. Slicking it back in one swoop. The sight was almost... appealing.

Too bad there's an obnoxious prick beneath the nice view. He opens his eyes to immediate eye contact with me. Without a word he slowly moved away from the stream, still close enough that the chain dragged on the floor. I turn my back towards him as I raise my hands to the water.

I repeat his action with a few slight differences. I faced away from him and actively stopped myself from recreating his moan of relief with my own. The second one was hard, it had been too long since I had had water, my lips were chapped and my throat dry. I could feel them absorbing the moisture and alleviating my troubles. Most of my troubles anyway; they cured my physical headache caused by dehydration, but I am still left with the walking talking headache chained to my non-dominant hand.

I hear a sound. Rustling from the woods. Our heads whip in its direction and our bodies make the space between us disappear. Our odds are better together after all. The rustling stops but my fear of what could be lurking stays. "Thoughts on staying here for a while?" I broach the ever-present subject in the air "I hate when I find myself agreeing with you" Contradictory to his words, his voice seemed to lack its usual hateful tone. 

We sit in the alcove, which is too shallow to call a proper cave system; it is more like an indentation that leads nowhere. However, it is spacious enough for us to sit on opposite sides of the cave with the chain pulled taut between us. We sit there in silence for a while, which is how we spent most of our time on this desolate planet; each of us too stubborn to speak to the other about anything other than our mutual disdain.

As time passes he gets more fidgety. His impatience is evident in the way he wrings his hands and bounces his leg. I watch from the corner of my eye as he stands and paces back and forth. "Could you not?" My annoyed tone cuts through the once-quiet cave. Stopping in his tracks he whips his head to glower in my direction. "We are wasting daylight sitting around in this dirt hole." He rages through gritted teeth. I roll my eyes at his anger. "You lack patience. We don't know the kind of creatures that live here, and if we leave too soon we might end up it's feast." I am completely disinterested in explaining to this grown man why it would be a bad idea to trek through these unfamiliar woods with nothing on our person to defend ourselves against an animal we definitely heard rummaging out there.

He storms closer, looming over my person and invading my personal space. "We've waited long enough! We must get back to the ship before the sun sets!" It is almost amusing that he keeps referring to that glorified hunk of scrap metal as a ship. I am still of the opinion that we need to give it more time before we can be confident that whatever is out there has moved on. I don't even look at him when I reply, the rocky walls of the cave somehow being more entertaining. "Give it a moment more time"

Suddenly he pulls me up from my position on the floor, his fists full of my bunched-up shirt. "No more waiting we are leaving!" His grip on me is tight as he pulls me close to better shout at me. I practically have to lean back to keep our noses from touching. "I am not going out there just to be eaten, because you can't get your nerves in check!" My voice raises as we glare at each other.  "It wasn't a request" Who does he think he is to order me around?!  "Good luck trying to make me comply with any demand you give" There's a strong tension in the air as we stare daggers of contempt into each other. His hands have yet to leave my shirt, still holding me close. I can feel his breath tickling my face.

Unexpectedly, the tension in the air changes to something much thicker. My breath gets caught in my throat. Why is he looking at me like that? His eyes drift down to my lips; I'm caught wondering if he kissed me would I let him? I don't have time to fully ponder as he pulls me in hard, crashing us together hungrily. He takes a step forward, forcing me to take a step back, continuing until my back is flush against the rough wall of the cave.

I was raised in war. I've killed in the name of the Resistance. And yet my heart races when his lips are against mine, his hips grinding into mine as our groans get swallowed by the collision of our mouths. While we messily clash together his hands go for my pants and begin to undo them. I help him pull them from my overheating skin, discarding them across the cave. His hands find their place squeezing my ass before lifting me off the ground; my legs wrap around his waist, making the friction between us even more satisfying. 

My hands snake down from their position around his neck to his bucking hips. The bruising kiss breaks as we pant for air. My hands busy themselves by undoing his belt, then his pants all together. His lips return to work, this time on the crook of my neck. He sucks, bites, and licks my skin while I take his girth into my hand. He lets out a low muffled rumble into me at the sensation.

I pump his length and message its sensitive head a few times the creamy moisture leaking from the tip being used as a lubricant. I use my other hand to pull my soaking undergarments to the side as I rub him against me. The general's lips roam higher on my neck and begin to leave bruising kisses against the pressure point below my ear. His groans are like music to my ears. With a thrust of his hips, he enters me unceremoniously causing me great discomfort. The pain turns to pleasure as he slowly rocks back and forth inside me.

My legs squeeze around him, telling him to pick up the pace. I look at his face for the first time since we started all this. His eyes hold a piercing, burning focus in them; sweat beads across his forehead as he pushes ruthlessly deeper into me. My hands go to cup his face, a hand pushing his once pristine hair out of his face. The shared look between us is so intense, it's more intimate than him plunging himself into me as his nails dig into my ass. I break the eye contact by grabbing the nape of his neck and pulling his lips back onto mine. His teeth nipping at my bottom lip we devour each other. 

  My other hand snakes between our colliding bodies, lowering itself to pleasure myself fully. I can feel my release building rapidly as my body tenses. My legs start to shake and our breathing becomes cumbersome. I can feel him shake slightly, his groans becoming more prevalent and his pace quickening with urgency.

He throws his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing as he loudly moans out into the air. He continues to thrust into me as he rides out his orgasm and brings me to mine. I bite my lip hard as I try to muffle my exclamations. My walls clenched down around his dick, milking it for all its worth. We pant for a moment and a moment only as he pulls himself from me swiftly, making as much space between us as possible. I hurriedly have to get my feet under me as he pushes me off of him. Regret no doubt consumes us both at this moment.

We gather and clean ourselves hastily to get what just happened as far into the past as it can go. What was he thinking? What was I thinking? He is my enemy for a reason and I can't forget it now. More than anything I am pissed at him for kissing me, fucking me, then acting like I am the most repulsive thing on this disgusting planet.

Once clothed I walk past him and out of the cave. If he wanted to leave so bad then I'm not going to stay here a moment longer. The hike felt excruciatingly longer than before with the thick burning tension in the air. I haven't looked at him since he pushed me off of him and I don't plan to. My rage against him has newfound fuel. 

Eventually, the trees begin to thin and the heap of scrap he calls a ship is in sight. I can't put my finger on it but something felt...off. He must feel it too, or notice my hesitation, because we both stand still for a beat, taking in our surroundings. It wasn't long before we were enclosed on all sides by Resistance troops with their blasters aimed up at him. I can't help the cackle that escapes my lips. "Looks like rescue did come after all" The look on my face could only be described as smug. I guess my guys got here first. The look of shock and anger on his face was priceless. Someone kicks him hard in the back of the knee to take him to the ground. The cuffs connecting us and keeping me his prisoner are now keeping him as mine.  

[briebysabs]

Across the Spider-verse spoilers///

Miguel fine af but Miles really should’ve beat his fat ass harder cuz wtf you mean calling him a mistake and blaming him for his Peter dying?? I’m sorry that pissed me off so much like Miles didn’t ask to get bit. Miles isn’t the one who made the collider, Miles didn’t bring Earth 42’s spider to his world GOD.

There’s a lot of anger, resentment, projecting and borderline envy going on. But I really liked how complex Miguel was in this movie. But some of y’all need to see he is wrong or at the very least, his way of going about things is wrong. Also explain to me why I’ve seen more hate targeted towards Gwen, someone who was conflicted the entire movie and Jess. Who should’ve stuck up for Gwen but clearly shows remorse at the end. More than Miguel bro make it make sense.

If you’re able to understand where Miguel is coming from, why can’t you also understand Gwen? Or did people straight up ignore the first 15 minutes of the movie? Like I too was disappointed with Gwen’s lying but one of the main reasons she did all this IS SO SHE DOESN’T GET SENT BACK HOME.

Where her father knows her identity and tried to arrest her. Where she currently has nowhere to live and crashes at Hobie’s place. How about we call out the adults that used that as leverage against a 16-17 year old, adults that watched it all go down too. Like people act like she had it against Miles when you see clearly that she only wants to protect him. She can’t lose another friend and obviously it backfired on her.

This is an amazing film but I’ve heard some absolutely dumb takes already. Some going as far to call Miguel racist WHICH MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE. Yeah we were joking and there are obvious metaphors to the ‘Miles being a Afro-latino Spider Man backlash’ but no idiot, he doesn’t hate black people. Miles could be any race Miguel would still react the way he did.

[f1cflcfic]

Just Because I Called You (Carlos Sainz) - part i

Well, sometimes the muse outruns your earlier plans. I wasn't going to write a Carlos fic, but here we are :) This one is fully written and only has four parts, hope to update every 5 days!

pairing: carlos sainz jr x fem!reader

summary: y/n knows there's a reason for his contact details to be saved under 'do not interact', but one call does not mean you miss him.

genre: 1.6k words, written au, brief 18+ content, angst

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s just the sheer exhaustion that’s keeping you from finding your house keys after a night out with your friends.

You curse out loud, digging your hand back into your purse, even though you know it’ll be another futile attempt.

It’s not there.

Dread settles in, as you consider your options. You’d been the last one in the Uber, so all your friends have undoubtedly already crashed out. You could book a hotel, but that seems very excessive, expensive, and also just incredibly inopportune. Everything you need, your contact solution, your glasses, your pyjamas – it’s all just on the other side of the door.

With a sigh, you lean your clammy forehead against the front door.

“Fuck,” you whisper, as realisation sets in. You’re going to need a spare key. And it just so happens there’s only two other people who might have one, of which one is currently on holiday in Thailand.

Which leaves you with the worst option of all. With a sigh, you grab your phone and scroll through your contacts. “x do not interact x ”

“Needs must,” you mutter to yourself, then press the green call button. It’s well past midnight, and you feel bad about calling – but you also know that if anyone’s going to answer, it’s him.

The line rings once, twice, three times, before it comes to life with a little crackle.

“Hello?” You close your eyes almost on instinct, as his rough voice washes over you. It doesn’t hurt as much as it once did, but the ache still lingers.

“I know it’s late, and I know we’re not supposed to talk, but I’m drunk and dumb, and I can’t find my key,” you rush out all at once.

There’s faint rustling on the other end of the line, but then he comes back. “I got it. Just eh – wait? I’ll be there in 10.”

For seven minutes, you pace up and down the hallway in your apartment building – desperately convincing yourself of the fact that this won’t end badly.

You’re broken up. Have been broken up for a month. It’s the sole reason why your friends took you out, to celebrate that it’d been a month of going no contact with your ex.

Because you deserved better. You deserved someone who’d say “I love you” back, who’d buy you flowers, who’d take you out on dates that weren’t just sponsor events, and holidays that were just the two of you.

You deserve to be someone’s priority. So you’d told him it was over, and it had somehow made you even more mad that he’d just accepted it.

“Hi,” a voice says softly, and you immediately feel tears burn behind your eyes.

“Hi Carlos,” you reply meekly, waiting and watching as he approaches slowly. He’s wearing soft grey sweatpants, and a hoodie you once bought him in your favourite colour.

It’s uncomfortable and weird, the way in which neither of you really knows how to greet each other beyond that. Initiating any type of bodily contact seems like a bad decision, not when you know it's never going to satisfy the itch. It'd only make you crave his touch more, in ways you can't have it. Not anymore.

He awkwardly lifts his hand and shows you the spare key you’d once given him. The one he hadn’t given back yet. Your stomach lurches as you catch sight of the tiny sparkly chilli keychain dangling in the air.

“Shall I?” He asks, motioning at the door that you’d unconsciously been blocking with your body.

“Right, sorry,” you mutter, and quickly take a step back to give him some room.

Belatedly, you realise you should’ve just taken the key from him altogether right then and there.

But he's here now.

So instead, you thank him for coming out to you at 3AM in the morning. “Do you want to come in? Have something to drink before you leave again?”

You regret it the moment the words come out your mouth, as you can see Carlos visibly flinch. “I didn’t mean – no, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I think you did, though. And you’d be right. I was pretty good at leaving, wasn’t I?” He rubs his face with his hand, your eyes following the movement.

It drops back down, then pushes the door open a little further. Your eyes trail up his arm, lingering briefly on his neck. It’s lost some of its thickness, signalling the off-season. He’s handsome either way, but it just makes you hurt over lost time and moments together.

Your need to catalogue all the ways in which his appearance has changed is distracting, and you’ve inched closer to him – closer than strictly necessary, before you realise.

You shuffle past him, carefully knocking into his arm just so. You kick off your heels, and hang your bag on the coatrack.

You look back over your shoulder, then point at the basket neatly situated on the side table in your hallway. “Look. Keys are right there.”

“Cariño,” he warns, but against what, you’re not entirely sure.

He should probably leave, you think. He could have left. If he’d wanted to.

“You could just drop those keys off there as well,” you add, coaxing him to make a choice.

To finally step foot inside your apartment for the first time in 6 weeks. Or to never see it again.

He exhales, dark brown eyes zeroing in on yours as he makes his way in. He doesn’t drop the keys in the basket, but instead closes the door behind him, then takes off his shoes. Clearly he remembers how much you hate dirty shoes inside. “Don’t you think tonight proves it’s probably good if I held onto these?”

“I think it proves I need someone to have spare keys. It doesn’t need to be you,” you counter, then turn around and walk to the kitchen. He follows wordlessly, gaze never straying from you as you pour the two of you a glass of wine.

“Where are you staying, anyways? Ten minutes isn’t far off,” you ask, softly this time.

“Alex’ place,” he explains. “Our – the apartment flooded.” He’s quiet for a second, then takes the glass of wine as you hand it to him. “This keychain is a chilli. It’s mine.”

You study him across the top of your wine glass, follow the way he takes a sip and lets the red wine slide down his throat. It makes your cheeks flush, although you’re fairly certain you can hide behind the alcohol you’d already consumed earlier this evening.

“Mi favorito,” Carlos murmurs appreciatively. You know he’s talking about the wine, but for a millisecond, you deliberately let yourself misunderstand. Let yourself forget and fantasise.

Silence wraps around the two of you as you offer him a piece of leftover tiramisu that you pull from the fridge. He grabs the spoon from you, and takes a bite. It shouldn’t look as sinful as it does. But it’s Carlos, and it’s you. Habits die hard.

Sure, maybe it is the alcohol, maybe it is your exhaustion, you reason with yourself. Or maybe it’s the charged air that surrounds you two – even now you’re no longer together.

“Why’d you answer when I called?” You blurt out, the alcohol making you a little bolder than you’d normally be.

His hand stills from where it had been swirling the glass. He looks up at you again, and you feel your knees go weak. There’s a devastating vulnerability in those eyes, one that’s hard to ignore. “Tu sabes. Do you wish I hadn’t answered?”

You set your wineglass down again, now empty, then lean over the countertop. Close enough to count his eyelashes, and the tiny freckles he’s acquired from being out in the sun with his family. It hurts not having seen them develop in real time.

“I wish a lot of things, Carlos.”

His eyes rove your face, then linger on your lips for a second longer. “Me, too.”

Your gaze drops, too. And even though your heart is smashed to smithereens in your chest, your memories are telling you not to do it, and you know your friends will crucify you before picking up the pieces - it’s the lust and love-addled part of your brain that handles purely on emotion that wins out.

On reflex, you’ll justify later, you find yourself kissing Carlos in your kitchen at 3AM in the morning.

On reflex, you don’t even register how your own fingers roam around his body, and peel off the hoodie you’d gotten him.

On reflex, he hauls you into your bedroom, and teases you with his tongue while his lashes flutter against the apex of your thighs.

It’s not on reflex, when he asks if he needs to use a condom. It breaks the lust-fuelled haze, and instead it’s got you on the brink of crying in the blink of an eye. But you’re so close now, can almost taste the way in which this is going to both ruin and complete you at the same time.

You know this is exactly why you shouldn’t have called him, but it’s also exactly why you’re not going to stop this now. Even when you know you should.

So instead, you let the anger course through your body, scratching his back with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. “You tell me,” you pant in his neck, before sucking a bruise into his skin. You can feel his jaw tick, but he refrains from grabbing a condom nonetheless.

It shouldn’t make you feel the things it does.

Then again, Carlos shouldn’t be in your bed, buried balls deep inside of you, making you come three times in a row either.

Not when you’d been doing so well at the no contact rule.

You guess, then, that you deserve the feeling of hot shame and embarrassment rushing over you the next morning. It’s your punishment for being foolish, as you realise you shouldn’t have been surprised at the fact that he’s no longer next to you.

The only evidence he was ever there, is the stupid fucking hoodie left on your bedroom floor, and the sticky feeling between your legs.  

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚

Let me know what you think <3 Likes, comments, reblogs, asks are all appreciated.

UPDATE: Read part ii here.

[redclercs]

i only see daylight ✩ charles leclerc

— or, three times charles showed you love is golden.

✐ charles leclerc x gender neutral reader

✐ requested. inspired by taylor swift's song 'daylight'.

✐ warnings: lowercase intended, small mention of reader being insecure of their looks, 1k words.

i don't want to look at anything else now that i saw you

"why are you looking at me like that?" you ask, eyebrows tightly knitted. you've done your best to avoid asking the question, but charles' stare is making you self-conscious despite your best efforts. intrusive thoughts swarm your brain now and then, telling you he's too good for you in many, many ways, but the most evident one might be how plain you look compared to his beautiful exterior.

"do you think the moon is jealous of how beautiful you are?" he's so sincere your heart hurts a little, and yet, a smile spreads on your face imitating his own.

you laugh, shaking your head, as he's still staring at you.

"i'm being serious," charles joins in your laughter, all contradiction to his spoken words. "you're the most beautiful thing i've ever laid my eyes upon."

you've been told you're pretty in different instances of your life, you've been called 'cute' 'adorable' and on very very strange occasions, beautiful. but charles calls you all of that so often, that you're shocked the words haven't lost any meaning. he speaks from his heart every time he talks to you.

the awkwardness has seeped out of your body, replaced by the warmth of knowing you're loved in a way many people spend their lives desiring.

all of you, all of me, intertwined

it's your racing heartbeat that wakes you up. you lie in bed, eyes open and blood rushing to your ears, waiting for another sound to come from outside the bedroom. you are supposed to be alone, but you swear something fell in the kitchen.

you're frightened, but you know you have to deal with whoever is rummaging through your cupboards at 2 am. grabbing your cell from the nightstand, you dial three digits for the emergency line and skip the 'call' button, this is a dumb idea, but you are going to the kitchen.

it takes you three minutes to find one of charles' golf clubs, and you get a pinch of regret about using them as a weapon, but deep down you know he won't mind. tiptoeing your way down to the kitchen, your heart is about to burst out of your chest. this really is a dumb idea, you could just be endangering yourself further.

"ah putain!" a male voice whisper-yells, followed by the sound of another pot crashing to the linoleum. your boyfriend is angry and disheveled, and he has never looked better in your eyes.

"what are you doing?" you question, leaning the golf club against the wall. there's this happiness that only he brings you by just being in the same space, that your fear is gone. there's surprise in your heart too, pleasant surprise, he is supposed to be on the other side of europe still.

charles straightens up so fast he gets lightheaded, but it doesn't stop him from crossing the kitchen in three long strides, arms open and with a huge smile that shows his dimples clearly. "mon amour!" he's still whispering, although you're awake and currently being asphyxiated in his embrace.

"i thought you were taking the eight am flight," you mumble against his shoulder. he carries with him the smell of the plane, which is not unpleasant, but it hides his normal scent; the one that makes him feel like home.

"i couldn't wait to see you," he's peppering your head with kisses, his hands roaming down your sides as he takes you in, as if he's missed you for years and not just a weekend.

"hmhmm," you love being in his arms, you just don't love the lack of oxygen that's getting to your head.

charles lets go of you, not without leaving a sloppy kiss on your forehead.

"and what were you doing sneaking around like a mouse in the kitchen?" you look at the pot still on the ground and the wooden spoon resting on the stovetop.

"well," he's sheepish now, scratching the back of his head. "i was hungry. i hate plane food."

you laugh and he takes this as a chance to hold you against him again. sleep has abandoned you completely, you are too giddy now that you're with him.

"and what exactly were you planning to cook?"

charles shrugs, "whatever i could find, to be honest."

you make yourselves busy with preparing a three am snack, quickly falling into synchronization after so many meals prepared together in this same kitchen. sometimes in silence, others like right now, there isn't a pause while charles tells you everything about his weekend away, there isn't a thought in his brain that doesn't make its way to his mouth when he's with you.

it's three am, you're both sleep deprived and you can't picture yourself doing this with anyone else or for anyone else.

i once belived love would be black and white

in your experience, there were only two possibilities when it came to a disagreement: i’m right and you’re wrong.

fighting with charles is uncommon, your disagreements over petty things can be solved in childish ways, a game of rock, paper, scissors, pulling the short straw, etc. these stupid little issues end with a laugh and short mockery of whoever lost, and the agreement to don't bring it up again. which is the harder part, teasing each other in a lighthearted manner is a love language too.

you still remember the first time you had your first big fight with charles. the reason it started has slipped to back of your mind, insignificant. but you remember the crying and the yelling.

the thought of your love being over was the worst stab, straight into your heart. things like these had happened before, your previous relationships never bounced back from your mistakes. it always was all right or all wrong when it came to you.

charles hadn't yelled, he had waited patiently for you to finish and when you were a mess with reddened eyes and a clogged nose, he hugged you and told you he loved you.

yes, he was mad at you too. but his temporary anger didn't cloud his better judgment, words cannot be taken back, and hurting you wasn't something he could forgive himself for.

“pause, okay?” charles says sometimes, others it’s your turn to freeze the frame, when things are getting too ugly to be sane about them.

and you pause. because there is right and there is wrong, but there are no absolutes between the two of you, except maybe when it comes to loving the other.

─── team principal radio: ❝hi! this is my first request on this blog, so thank you so much to the anon that requested this. I hope they and everyone who stumbles upon this enjoyed it!❞