#desperately trying to cover all my bases because i still don't really know how to tag things and i don't want to spoil anybody

[thewanderingmask]

WILD LIFE FINALE SPOILERS

THIS SERIES IS AWESOME

[chuluoyi]

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

- sylus x reader

you and your lover are hailed and feared, but who would have guessed that behind closed doors, both of you are just that — lovers?

genre/warnings: very suggestive, making out, fluff, comfort, period cramps, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc), loosely based on sylus' secret times: midnight warmth & exclusive care!

note: very self-indulgent bye pls don't look at me :') this fic is a companion to assassin!reader series (strictly (un)professional and jealousy incarnate)

“Who’s ther— lord! Missus! What happened to you!?”

On a rainy night, you staggered into the base, drenched and covered with dirt. Your steps were unsteady as you made your way through the front door, and the first person to see you, Luke, was so shocked by the sight that he rushed to your side.

“Kieran! Call Boss!” he shouted to his twin, who immediately sprinted off to find him, steadying you. “Are you injured?”

“No,” you hissed, wincing as you clutched your abdomen. “Let go, I’m fine—” But before you could finish, you missed a step and—

—fell into Luke's arms.

In that very instant, Luke genuinely feared for his life. He squeaked and stammered, incoherent sounds escaping him, because oh lord— if Boss sees me ever touching his woman—

“What are you doing?”

And there came his nightmare. Sylus’ deep voice cut through like a blade, marking the arrival of doomsday itself.

“B-Boss! It isn’t what it looks like!” Luke quivered, desperately trying to explain himself.

However, Sylus paid him no mind and exhaled sharply, immediately moving over to pull you out of Luke’s grasp. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine!” you insisted, pulling away from him while staggering. “I’m not wounded or anything. Just... I just need a bath, please.”

Sylus eyed you from top to bottom. You had just been out for a reconnaissance, and yet you looked as though you had been through a tornado and back. Disheveled, your dress was smeared with mud and dirt, and even grime clung to your hair.

“Did you fall into a sewer or something?” he questioned, and he knew he had hit a nerve when you shot him a glare.

But you spared him no answer, walking away with labored breaths and a hand pressed against your lower belly. It was clear you were in pain, and the sight tugged at him as he followed you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his concern growing. “What hurts?”

“You don’t have to fuss over me—” your breath hitched, feeling exhausted, and ashamed all at once. “Just my period, nothing much,” you murmured in a quieter voice so the twins wouldn’t hear.

As you reached the stairs to the second floor, you felt like collapsing. Did you really have to climb these stairs, too?

As if reading your mind, Sylus let out a sigh, but you nearly squealed when he lifted you into his arms.

“You’ll get dirty!” you rebuked, even as he took large strides up the stairs. “Sylus!”

“Just hold onto me.” He shot you a pointed look. “You can’t even walk without gasping for air, and you still want to climb the stairs? You’ll end up rolling and breaking your back.”

Despite your protests, your lover immediately brought you to his bathroom and sat you down on the sink. He turned the hot water on and then faced you.

“So? What did you get yourself into?” he asked, his red eyes narrowing in dissatisfaction. “You were fine, and you didn’t face anyone.”

You pressed your eyes shut, leaning against the wall, resigned to explain. “Fell into mud. Totally idiotic, I know, but my cramps started right before, so…”

“I don’t recall you experiencing this before. What brought this on?”

You met his gaze indignantly, retorting, “Well, a certain someone banged me so hard last night, and I got my period right after.”

It was quite unexpected, but still answered his concern. So, to that, Sylus snorted and tousled your hair, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Ah, sorry, I guess?”

You pursed your lips, aware of how unapologetic he was. He smirked and added, “Now that I’m dirty too... I suppose we’ll have to take a bath together.”

“Are you mad? Do you want to get covered in my blood?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Why not—”

“No,” you retorted firmly, clearly irked. “You take the bath after me, and that’s final.”

. . .

“Put your arm around my neck,” Sylus commanded when you both emerged from the bath and already dressed in silk bathrobes. You complied, and he swiftly lifted you into a princess carry, bringing you to the bed.

Despite yourself, your heart fluttered at his action. He set you down gently, and the moment your back met the soft surface, you relished it and let out an involuntary moan. “Ahh...”

Your voice was soft and sultry, though tinged with a hint of pain. Sylus placed his hand gently on your face. “Your cheeks are warm,” he noted. “And you still look pale.”

"Mmm," you mumbled, suddenly the total fatigue catching up to you as you leaned into his touch. Seeing you so pliant like this seemed to flip a switch inside him, and he immediately settled next to you and placed his huge hand on your lower belly, pressing down on it.

“What are you doing?” you frowned.

“I’m giving you a massage,” he replied. “Stop squirming. I’m trying to pamper you here.”

“You don’t have to…”

“My woman is in enough pain that she doesn’t talk back to me. It’s feels off.”

“...actually, you suck. You’re too rough.”

Taking your whine into account, he adjusted his touch, softening his pressure. "How is it? Better?"

You didn’t immediately reply, indulging in the warm sensation, letting out a sigh as you squeezed your eyes shut. “Mm... Yeah, it feels good now. Don’t stop…”

There was something quietly erotic about watching you, usually so defiant, surrender to his touch like this. Sylus felt a deep, protective satisfaction as he continued his gentle ministrations—

But after a while...

Before he could stop himself, he leaned in, pulling you closer as he buried his face in your shoulder, inhaling deeply, savoring the scent of the bath foam you had just shared. “Mmm…”

You were caught off-guard and shivered at his breath tickling your skin, eyes fluttering open. “Sylus…” you murmured, a mix of protest and surprise in your voice.

But he didn’t pull away, his lips lingering against your skin, his gaze fixed on your bare neck, whispering, “Just relax. I’ve got you.”

Then, when he suddenly nibbled on your neck, you jolted awake. The gentle bite on your sensitive skin sent another shiver down your spine, stirring a mix of warmth that made your pulse race.

But he didn't stop there, as Sylus trailed your neck with a series of kisses and wet sucks, his breath hot against your skin. Soon, the only sounds filling the room were his quiet sighs and the soft noises of his lips as he continued to bite and pepper kisses on your skin, over and over.

“Ngh…” Each touch left you almost breathless, and the heat between you growing with every passing moment, making your toes curl and you moan softly by his ear.

“Hold me,” he gruffly whispered, and as if bewitched, you clung to his shoulders. He let out a husky chuckle. “Not too hard, or you won't be able to sleep later.”

“And whose fault would that be?” you quipped, entangling your legs with his, savoring the warmth of his body against yours.

“I’ve spoiled you rotten, haven’t I... sweetie?” he murmured amidst kisses, his tone laced with intrigue and his burgundy eyes flashing with a glint. “Just let me have my fill for a while.”

If you had a mirror, you’d see the hickeys forming on your neck, but instead of fighting him, you pulled him closer, letting out breathy moans freely and massaging his scalp as if urging him to go further.

“Naughty vixen—you are,” Sylus rasped deliciously in your ear, thick with desire and restraint as his grip on you tightened. “Tempting me, knowing full well I can’t do anything to you…”

A low giggle slipped from your lips. “Unfortunately… I learn from the best.”

Hard to get, snarky, taunting... You were the bane of his existence, and yet Sylus wouldn't have it another way. Your defiance and teasing only deepened his affection, making every challenge you presented feel like an irresistible part of what drew him to you.

He knew when his patience was on the verge of snapping, so to end it, he sucked hard on your shoulder one last time, making sure to leave another mark there. The squelching sound reverberated through both of you, before he pulled away and planted a firm kiss on your forehead, a gesture of both dominance and fondness for you.

“Now sleep,” he grounded out. “Your body has been through enough.”

“Mngh...” you whined, curling into him in contentment, your head nestled against his toned chest where you could feel his strong, steady heartbeat. “Really unfair...”

“You're going to feel better soon...” he sighed, one hand soothing your back and the other resting on your waist. “And as soon as you do...”

A wicked grin curved his lips.

“I'll pick up where I left off.”

[canonkiller]

I don't want to beg but it's so bad rn. explaining below the break because it's a Lot but if you have the means I would really appreciate the support

Make a one time donation on Ko-fi

Subscribe monthly for WIPs, bases, and other art rewards on Ko-fi

Buy bases and other resources in my Ko-fi shop (there are also freebies you can test out!)

Buy pre-made designs / adoptables listed for sale on Toyhouse

Buy prints, merch, stickers and other physical goods on Redbubble

Buy prints on INPRNT

E-mail me to discuss commission ideas for when I open slots next

thank you so much for your time and patience with me, it goes beyond words.

not to get right into it but I am going to fucking die here as things stand I shan't lie

the teeth I need out or repaired are going to cost thousands. the implants to replace the ones already out are $1500 to start and it's only going to go up from there. magnet therapy to try and get my brain to accept that food and medication aren't evil poisons are more thousands, before the daily transportation costs. medication, supplements, and most of the testing I need done isn't covered in Canada, same with pretty much anything about my vision. subsidized housing is $800+ for accessible units after a 7-14 year minimum wait, and the last unit that changed ownership in my area did so in 2020. rent without social support is currently hovering around $3k for anything that isn't a single bedroom at the end of a flight of stairs.

I know there is so much going on in the world right now and I already feel like I ask for a lot. but I'm disabled, blind and a wheelchair user, on government disability benefits that don't even begin to cover any of this, living in the upstairs corner of a house I'm not physically able or permitted to use because my family simply doesn't fucking like me, and despite it all I still desperately want to fucking live. I've applied for housing, transportation services and other government programs that have basically all ghosted me or left me in perpetual waiting list limbo. the coverage u try to get takes months to process, if it ever does, and it's scraps. I'm really trying to not lose my mind about all of this but this cycle of bearing it until it breaks me is getting shorter and shorter and I can barely walk without my heart trying to give out now. I'm really scared, honestly, and I don't even have the energy to feel it as fear. I just don't know how to make it out of this okay.

[ryozakidesu]

Yours, Inevitably - l.jn

2/4 diary of the heartbreakers

summary: ➸ ♡ To say that Lee Jeno is pretty would be an understatement. The man's gorgeous. One thing he uses to his advantage, going through college getting girls he spots his eyes on. But there's one he just couldn't get. His brother's bestfriend. You can continue and avoid your feelings for each other, but eventually, it'll happen. You were someone that stayed, a constant in his life. You might not know it, but for the years you've known Lee Jeno, he slowly became yours, inevitably.

"I should've known it was you, because no one else made sense."

GENRE: Angst, Fluff, Humour, Smut

WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Explicit Sexual Content, Language, Slight Alcoholism, Mentions of Drugs/Weed, fuckboy!Jeno, brothersbsf!reader AUTHOR's NOTE: Holy shit, it's done! I was about to pull all my hairs off for this one :// but i can finally say that it's all worth it! I hope y'all are still here. And I really wish y'all would like this story. Enjoy reading!

WC: 18 k (I tried my best)

DISCLAIMER: This story is purely fanfiction. Only the names of the Idols are used, and does not reflect on them in real life. There's no way in any shape of form that they are like this in person, because I MADE IT UP. I don't personally know them. DO NOT STEAL / TRANSLATE / MODIFY. This is my work and I don't appreciate people stealing it. Thank you.

Enjoy reading! -ryo

Lee Jeno is a phenomenon.

Jeno, on the other hand, likes to think he’s just a pretty boy who kinda knows how to dribble.

Maybe he’s not bad in the actual learning part too, maybe he did get an award for the research paper he did on Biochemistry last year. Maybe he won MVP on three consecutive basketball tournaments, making history in his school as the only player to excel in both the sports and academics.

So yeah. He’s a textbook definition of an A-list student that you would totally see in one of the frames along the halls of this very school in about thirty years, with the trophies and accolades he made during his time here.

You wanna hear what’s even more annoying?

He’s hot. And he knows it. Please, he’s so undeniably gorgeous it's starting to hurt.

Unlike his friends, Jeno keeps it on the down-low. Which was surprising because he had every right to be cocky and brag about all of his achievements but he’s the least show-y among his friends.

In Jeno’s defense, he likes to let his performance do all the talking.

Words on the street says he fucks like an incubus, but talks like an angel. He’s proven to be hung, emphasizing the word proven, based on the girls he had walking side to side after he spent a good, long night with them.

But despite all of that, he’s pretty cool and quiet most of the time.

Which is even more attractive. According to a study based on no-actual-facts, girls tend to like the quiet ones more. Especially when they look like a greek god that managed to escape mythology and then learned to be a legend in basketball instead. In simplified terms, girls like Lee Jeno.

Naturally, of course, girls are all over him. That's something really common between the four of his friends, and you're not shocked that Jeno sleeps around-- because he just can. Girls will literally faint in front of him if they could, just to get his attention.

“Don’t make a sound,” he whispered, desperately trying to finish while a girl, known as Jennie, was bent over the counter. His hands covered her mouth, and to be frank, he just want this to be over with.

And of course, in typical fashion, Jennie is also a name most of the students are familiar with. Cheerleading captain, arguably a girl that’s expected to be with him. What makes it so easy, is that this girl is obsessed with Jeno.

Meanwhile Jeno, had no indication of being tied down. He likes hanging out with her sometimes, sure, but the girl’s way too much for him. Jeno likes being lowkey, despite being one of the most famous guy in campus, Jeno preferred to be outside the spotlight.

A couple more thrust, his eyes closed, mind far from the girl bent over in front of him who’s just desperately wanting to pleasure him, Jeno finishes. He murmured a curse, and as soon as the feeling of cumming washes off, guilt starts creeping in his veins as Jennie smiled in satisfaction as she fixes her uniform.

“God, you’re still so fucking good,” Jennie put her hands around Jeno’s neck, biting her lips in hopes to seduce the cold man in front of her.

“Come on, my brother’s gonna be here soon,” Jeno shrugged her hands off, fixing his shirt. He did not even get the chance to take it off, Jennie just went and got what she wanted as soon as she enters the apartment.

Don’t be mistaken tho, Jeno liked having sex, more so with a girl like Jennie. But Jeno’s consciousness can’t help and tell him that he’s stringing along this girl, knowing full well he’s not even one bit interested in pursuing a relationship with her.

Jennie never really cared about what he thinks tho, so that kinds of shaves a bit off of his guilt.

“Call me, okay?” Jennie tried to give him a kiss, but he’s fast enough to dodge it.

Jeno sighed as he walked the girl to the door. And in some wicked timing, his brother opened it, his step stuttering as he saw Jennie, but never minded the fact that the girl is walking side to side. Jisung, his brother, have seen this situation way too much before that it doesn’t shock him anymore.

Another footstep followed behind Jisung, You, not even sparing a glance over him, walking behind his brother. You looked bored, giving absolutely no interest over him or Jennie. He never really got bothered about it before. He’s just wondering when you started ignoring his existence like this.

You were nothing like the girl he witnessed growing up all these years.

The sweet smiles you used to offer him were all gone. The once cute little y/n that he knew were long gone. But what can he do, that’s just how it goes. Right?

People change. And you weren't an exception. But deep inside, Jeno has this unsettling sensation that hunts him at night. This isn’t you. You used to light up the room whenever you walked in. You used to make him believe in butterflies and rainbows and shit, but now, you’re just… there.

Jeno often wonders. But that’s about it. He’s way too much of a pussy to actually read through your chapters that led into this character you have now. So Jeno, the ever so nonchalant, settles in being curious– not concerned in finding answers.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

You were twelve, when you met Jisung.

At first, you’re confused. There’s a new family that moved in next door. It was a common occurrence in your neighborhood, really. In your very-long life experience of twelve years, you’ve seen countless families moving in and out. So you question in your pretty little head why your Mom is way too excited about this next one.

Turns out, the family that will be moving in is your Mom’s best friend. You were twelve, you did not care about your Moms friends like that. Apparently, they’ve been best friends ever since they were five. They just kept in touch all these years.

“I'm Jisung,” the little boy, an inch taller than you, reached out his peculiarly large hands at you.

You felt your Mom nudge you a little bit, so in annoyance, you accepted his hand. “Y/n.”

Both mothers shrieked in excitement, but you were busy trying to examine this boy's hands.

Little did you know, that handshake would lead to years of friendship that you’d forever cherish, no matter how annoying this boy with freakishly large hands is.

“Who’s that?” You ask, still helping Jisung to count all his pokemon cards. You point outside their house, by the courtside next to their pool.

Jisung looks, but rolls his eyes after. “That’s my big brother, Jeno-hyung. He’s obsessed with basketballs.”

Your little twelve year old eyes sparkle, watching the boy shoot hoops around the court.

“Ew, you like boys?!” Jisung, disgusted.

“Your brother isn’t a boy, You’re a boy. He’s a man.” You sigh dreamily in sight of Jeno, making Jisung gag.

“He’s old, like, fourteen. Please, he’s a loser! Playing with balls all day,” Jisung says as he waves his hands in an attempt to distract you from his brother.

“Oh well…” you didn’t let it falter your adoration towards Jeno.

And before you could even watch him longer than you wished, Jisung’s mother called you two in for clubhouse sandwiches, and she made banger sandwiches so you really had to follow up to the kitchen.

You were fourteen, when you realized you had a crush on Jisung’s big brother.

“That’s bullshit, the paranormal movie is full of crap!” Chenle, your new found friend, complains as soon as the movie ends. His high pitched voice woke you up, not even realizing you had slept halfway through the movie.

“Dude, it’s from CCTV footage. It’s definitely true!” Jisung counters, and you just want to go back to sleep again.

The Paranormal Movie was mediocre, and maybe you were just a sceptic, but ghosts just doesn’t do it for you. “Most of these horror films really just depend on jumpscares to be scary.”

“Oh, coming from Miss Little poopy pants over here,”

The room went silence over Jisung’s attempt at a clapback, you and Chenle looking at each other before breaking into a laughing pit.

“Poopy pants? Really?” You say, refusing to believe that Jisung still used that term as an insult.

Jisung, obviously flustered, resorted in grabbing two cushions, one at each hands and started throwing them at the both of you.

“Just get the freaking potato chips downstairs.” Jisung says, specifically to you.

“What? No! I’m not going down there!” You say, as you bury yourself further on Jisung’s bed.

“Because you’re scared?” Chenle, in a mocking tone. You flip him off, to try and cover the fact that you are scared because it’s night time and the lights are off.

“No, ghosts aren’t real. Why can’t Chenle go?” You whine even more.

“He already got the drinks, and this is my house so what I say goes!” Jisung grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the bed.

And because you like proving your point that ghosts aren’t real, you let out a grunt, stomping your way out of Jisung's room.

Your way down the stairs goes smoothly, the light still being on. But as soon as you turn to the dark kitchen, that’s when it creeps in. Yes, you do not believe in ghosts, but you’d be fooling yourself if you say that being alone in the large empty kitchen didn’t scare you.

“Oh, god.” You whisper to yourself, as you desperately find the chips cabinet. Rummaging through as quiet as possible, but also trying to find it as soon as possible.

But when a noise from the table interrupts the creepy silence, you can’t help but yelp out a scream.

“Oh my gosh!”

You turn your head towards the table, just to find a cute little cat that had lost its way through the big surface.

“Thank God it was just a little cat,” you say in relief, but as soon as you try and step closer to it, a name being called from the stairs can be heard.

“Bongsik-ah!”

So it has a name. Bongsik.

A figure walks down the stairs, obviously, being Jeno.

You immediately fold into yourself, biting your lip as soon as he enters the kitchen.

“What are you doing down here?” He says as he carries the cat off the table and on his chest. It took a couple of seconds for him to look at you, and he smiles.

“Y/n-ie. Do you need something from the kitchen?” His soft voice snaps you from the trance, as he helps you with the chips you were trying to get from the upper cabinet. His body was so close to you as he did so, that you swear you can feel his heart beating.

“Y-yeah.. Just those chips. Thanks.” Your entire demeanor changes when it comes to him.

“Here you go,” He says softly, you wonder if he intentionally talks to you like that, or it’s just how he talks. A little bit inside you likes to believe you’re special and that he does this only to you.

“Thanks, uh– new cat?” You say in the most casual tone you could ever produce.

“Yep, a rescue. Mom brought it home the other day. Jisung freaked,” He chuckles as he looks at the cat, snuggling in his chest.

You awe in sight, wanting to pet the cat but you hesitated at first.

“You can pet it,” Jeno moves his body to yours, to allow you to pet Bongsik. You did so, and when the cat purrs at your touch, you gasp in awe.

“Hi Bongsik,” you say in a whisper, intended for the cat only. But you can feel Jeno smile at you.

“You can visit her everyday, not that you’re not here everyday, but she’s gonna be here starting now..”

“She’s adorable,” you say, still petting the cat in his arms.

“I love cats, any pet really. But cats just really bring out the inner softness in me, y’know?” Him being this close to you feels weird and intimate, but it's not like you hate it. Your heart is practically doing jumping-jacks right now.

You use him focusing on Bongsik as an excuse to look at him, even just a glance.

You get a closer look on his face, the mole he has under his left eye, the thin lips and his perfect nose. In the two seconds you allow yourself to take a peek, you convince yourself that you had his features memorized now.

You can just feel that it’s just gonna live with you forever.

Because as he takes Bongsik away and starts walking back up the stairs, you make a big-girl realization that you do have a crush on Lee Jeno.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Jeno was woken up by the sound of his phone ringing. It was his brother, Jisung, calling in the middle of the night asking for his keys.

“What do you need my car for?” Jeno, frustrated as he grabs his keys from the night stand.

“My car broke down and Y/N really needs to get home.” Jisung on the other line also sounded like he just woke up. Jeno curses under his breath.

This wasn’t the first time he heard his brother in trouble with you being the main source of chaos. It’s always the same thing. Either you’re black-out drunk, or one of your boyfriends has dumped you on the side of the street.

Over the years, you had changed so drastically it almost gave him a whiplash. You used to be so careful and so paranoid about drinking, waiting until you turn 18 to get a sip of alcohol. And when you did, it’s like you never stopped.

So despite Jeno’s interrupted slumber, he gets up and leaves his shared apartment with his friends, just to wait outside his building for his brother. And surely, just like every other time this has happened before, he finds Jisung standing there in the cold.

“I need my car tomorrow, in pristine condition. One scratch and you’re done,” Jeno, tossing the car keys to his brother.

Jisung didn’t bother to answer, depicting the reality of brotherhood. But before Jisung could leave, Jeno turns to him.

“What happened this time?”

“She’s really–”

“Drunk?” Jeno finishes his sentence, as if he had seen this before. Jisung sighs in agreement.

“--yeah, and Chenle’s drunk too so he can’t drive her back to the apartment.”

“What happened to her? She isn’t really like this, at all.” Jeno dared to indulge in one of his curiosities.

“I’ve been asking the same question, hyung.” Jisung ends the conversation without really answering Jeno’s question, which frustrated him more.

Because of course, nobody really knows what happened. It’s a question he needs to ask you, directly. Only if you didn’t spend the last few years avoiding being on the same vicinity as him, then maybe he could actually talk to you.

“Three seconds left on the clock, Lee, for the three.. He shoots… and bang! Lee Jeno has done it again!”

Jeno thinks it’s getting way too easy for him. Winning at this point just felt like a routine for him. The new normal, it’s just how it goes around him now. Everytime the other team makes a mistake of letting him have the ball, the game ends with Jeno taking home the win.

Honestly, it’s getting pretty boring and predictable.

“That’s my fuckin’ man!” Yangyang, one of his teammates, excitedly hugs Jeno as he entered yet again another victory party for his team. It’s his second one this semester.

“Okay, dude, chill.” Jeno pushes the very drunk Yangyang away, afraid of getting thrown up on.

As he sinks his feet deeper into the party, he starts getting loose. The alcohol hitting the tense spot in his body, reminding him that fuck it, he’s the man of the evening. This party is for him. So why not have fun, right?

The music starts to sound less chaotic and more tolerable, and the people start to get blurry. Weed and alcohol really does the trick, Jeno thinks.

“Jeno, the man of the hour! That game was lit!” Jeno’s not sure who’s this man, but nevertheless, he still smiled at him and let him dap him up. He blabbers more and more about Jeno’s career path in professional basketball but just like always, Jeno just dismiss it.

It’s too early to plan for the future. He’s enjoying what he has now and content on just thinking about what happens today.Tomorrow is tomorrow’s problem, and he can’t be bothered to be bothered about what his future brings.

Some people likes to think they know what’s best for Jeno, and sometimes it does make sense, Jeno getting to the professional basketball league, in tune to what he does best now. But fuck that. Jeno doesn’t want to be in a box full of other people’s expectation of him.

“Jaemin’s not here?” Jeno finds relief to hear Renjun’s voice, one of his very few trusted people. In some way, knowing Renjun was here by his side, it made him feel that he’s okay.

“Yeah.. he’s still locking himself out.” Jeno answers.

Jaemin was his best friend first, and he knows Jaemin well. And for the first time, he knows Jaemin really do need time for himself. This isn’t something Jeno could fix, he knows when to step away. So he lets Jaemin be.

“Haechan?”

Jeno saw Haechan earlier but he’s not sure where he is now. That’s just how he is. He’s probably in one of the rooms upstairs, on his way to ‘pound town’ in Haechan’s terms.

In typical Jeno fashion, he tolerates some annoying congratulations for a bit, give fake smiles and forced handshakes before finding his way to escape the crowd. Although it’s difficult because again, this party is thrown for him and his team, he still finds a way.

And that way has a name. Yunjin.

“Ah, Jeno,”

At the back of the party, there's a huge backyard, large enough that if he’s with this girl fucking around at the very end of it, he’s sure no one will notice. His hands roam freely against the girl, letting her know his full intention. Not like she has no clue, the hands up her skirt gave her enough hints.

“Hmm,” Jeno hums, just to satisfy the girl’s pleas.

But before it gets further, a rustle of the grass made him stop his tracks.

Someone’s here.

“Wh–what happened,” Yunjin was confused as to why he suddenly stopped.

Jeno furrows his brows, and tries to look at whoever was on the back of the big oak tree.

“Sorry! Sorry– fuck, carry on, please!”

The familiar pitch of voice made Jeno move away from Yunjin. He knows who it is behind the tree. And he suddenly has no interest in going home with Yunjin.

You stumbled out of your hiding with a bottle of alcohol on your right hand, your left trying to pathetically cover your eyes as you tried to walk.

Jeno hates it. He fucking hates how drunk you are right now.

“Oh shit, Jeno!” You peek at the gap in your fingers that was covering your eyes, to see him looking at you with a mix of emotion you can’t make out. He’s not angry, but he’s definitely not amused.

“I–,” you burped, “I’m not here..” you followed with a laugh, finding all these hilarious.

“Don’t mind me!” you laugh again.

Jeno murmured a curse. “Yejin, I’m sorry but I need to go,” he says in finality, not even waiting for the girl to answer as he walks straight in your direction.

“It’s Yunjin! Ugh!” The last words he hears from the girl before she stomps away.

He shakes his head as tried grabbing your arm, to help you at least find a stable balance. He grabs the alcohol out of your grasp harshly.

“Hey, what the fuck!” You whined. You tried to chase the bottle, but with his hold on your arms, you failed to do so.

“Y/n, please, fucking stay still. You’re very drunk!” He says in a strict but stable voice, not wanting to rile you up even more.

“Give me it,” You whined again, much softer this time, and with no attempt at grabbing the bottle.

He looks at your struggling figure, eyes almost closing as you stumble against his hold.

“Ah, fuck it,” he curse one more time before propping you off your feet, carrying you in a bridal style.

“Hey, get me– Oh my gosh! Help!” You yell, but followed with a giggle, which made the people around you think that the situation is not something to be worried about. And they know you and Jeno, so him carrying you just makes sense.

He hates this version of you. He hates how this character you have is so far from what he knew you from. He hates that you find comfort in drinking, partying and sleeping with other men. He hates that whatever happened, it completely changed you. He hates that he cares.

“What the fuck are you staring at?” Jeno can’t help but to lash out at some people who gives him and you a judgemental look. He despises people who judge you.

He finds an empty room upstairs, and he puts you down gently. You dress is up to your waist now, so Jeno pulled it down. He opened his phone to text his brother to let him know you’re with him. He knows Jisung will be worried at your whereabouts. He also texted Chenle, to make sure that they know you’re safe.

He grabs a clean washcloth out the bathroom, and soaks it with cold water.

“I’m not… I am drunk.” You say, swaying your head left to right as you lay in the bed, trying to grab at whatever’s the softest around you.

He sat a foot away from you, but still reached his hands to your face to gently caress you with the soaked towel. This might help sober you up.

Speaking of being sober, Jeno entirely forgets that he’s also intoxicated. For some reason, he sobered up. Seeing you in this state made him think that he needed to straighten up and get you out of here.

“What the fuck are you doing to yourself, y/n..” he says under his breath, as he gently brushes the towel on your face. Seeing you deep in sleep now, he sighed.

You used to be so bubbly. You were sweet as honey, as bright as the sun. He still remembers how your eyes lit up every time you would talk to him. As he looks at you right now, it’s still the same features, the soft ones he grew to know, but he knows that once you wake up, you’d be a stranger again.

He sighed in defeat, and stood up. He was about to get water for you, before the door opened.

“Jeno,” It revealed Qian Kun, a man he heard is your boyfriend. Not sure about the boyfriend part, but he’s sure that he hangs out with you a lot these days.

Kun was his senior, basically the smartest man on this campus. Famous for his 5.0 GPA, this Kun guy really is a genius. He used to get notes from him, back when he was writing for his research paper. He had no idea how you two met, but it’s really not his business.

“She was in the backyard, drunk as fuck.” Jeno says, looking at your peaceful figure.

“Alright. I’ll take it from here,” Kun says, walking past him, around the bed to get to your side.

He can hear Kun murmur a pet name as he caresses your hair. Jeno felt the need to roll his eyes.

“Next time, keep an eye on her. If you can’t handle her, maybe you shouldn’t be with her at all.” Jeno didn’t care if he sounded harsh. He needs to let Kun know that you need to be taken care of properly.

“You don’t know her, Lee. So I suggest, keep your mouth shut and mind your own business.” Kun snapped back, standing up to look back at Jeno.

“Oh, I knew her long before you did. But I agree, she’s your business. I just hate to fucking deal with it because you can’t fucking seem to do it yourself.” With that, Jeno walks out the room.

And even if Jeno sounded secure, he can’t lie and say that leaving you with another man didn’t affect him, even just one bit.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Looks from other people don't budge you at all.

They can stare at you, even whisper some bullshit about you, you really don’t give a shit. There’s nothing they can say that you’ve not said to yourself.

“You really should take it slow with the alcohol, y/n.” The first thing Jisung said as you sat down beside him. You rolled your eyes, and looked at him.

“Not you too,” You say rather exhaustedly.

“Especially me too. I’m your bestfriend and I’m just worried.” Jisung wasn’t the type to give out unsolicited advice, a serious one at that, therefore you sighed.

“It’s college, Jisung. We’re supposed to have fun.”

“Not to a point where other people have to take care of you.” That came out rather harsher than what Jisung had intended, but you really need it. You know it too. You just refuse to believe it.

“You don’t have to take care of me.”

“If not me, then who? You’ve been passed out drunk for the third time this week, y/n. I don’t know what definition of fun you have, but I think it’s not this.” Jisung was scarily serious now. You blink to try and process the seriousness of the situation.

You gulp, realizing that Jisung isn’t in the mood for your snarky comments right now. “Alright, damn. I’ll take it down a notch..” you say and look away from him.

You can’t blame Jisung for acting like this. You know that you’re spiraling down, you just refuse to accept it. In your head, this is just how college life goes. You get drunk, have sex and maybe a little bit of homework here and there. In your head, this is how it should be.

In a fucked up world, it is. But your world is already fucked up. So in a way, it just makes sense. To you.

“You have to get better,” Kun’s words rang in your head.

“This is the best I can, Kun. Chemistry isn’t really my thing,” you turn your homework down at Kun’s table. You were here after class, hoping to get help from Kun.

Despite popular belief, Kun isn’t your boyfriend. You’re too fucked up to commit into a relationship, no matter how good Kun is. Matter of fact, Kun is just the perfect man for that role. You can see yourself going straight with him, like your life might just take a turn for the better.

However, no matter how evil you see yourself as, you’re not that evil to give Kun the burden to have you as a girlfriend. You can’t do that to him.

And you did clarify that to him before sleeping with him. That whatever you have, just had to stay that way. He can’t expect something more. Surprisingly, he agreed. Qian Kun, the guy that has so much credentials because of his undeniable intelligence, the guy who rejected Harvard and Stanford, agreed to have a stupid set-up with a girl that’s one step away from actually losing it. Why?

You have absolutely no idea.

“I’m not talking about your homework, my love.” He says, sighing. You know that sigh very well.

You look at him, your eyes stoic as they can be. “We’re not having this conversation.”

Kun closed his eyes as he let out a deep breath. “You need to have this conversation. Lee Jeno had to carry you upstairs, in front of everyone last night. You were so drunk that you threw up all over yourself and you think that’s okay?”

Oh, so that’s what happened. He had to rescue you. Out of all people, of course it had to be him.

“Look, Kun, I didn’t come here to be judged. I was stupid for drinking that much, I know. But it’s not gonna happen again.” You say matter-of-factly. This is the second time this day that you had to promise to someone that you’ll be drinking responsibly. You feel like everyone is ganging up on you.

“Okay, sweetheart. Okay, calm down.” You didn’t know you were standing up until Kun pulled you from your wrist to sit back down.

Kun smiled at you and kissed your forehead, before sliding your homework back in front of you again and clicking his pen. “Let me see your answers…”

You’re glad he decided to drop the topic, but before you could even say thank you, an aggressive knock on Kun’s office got both of you to look up.

“Y/N! I know you’re in there! Qian, open your fucking door!”

You widen your eyes. “Fuck, it’s Yeonjun!” you say, standing up and grabbing your purse.

Kun looks at you, before looking back at the door. You can tell he had a very concerned face, but as soon as another man’s name fell out of your lips, he knew right away what situation you’re in. He pinched the bridge of his nose due to stress, and stood up.

“What is it this time?” He asks, not that he needed to.

“He’s just… Ugh, I told him we were over!” You say, feeling bad that this situation is happening in front of Kun. The knocks are turning more aggressive.

“Y/N, you slut!” Another loud bang from the door.

“I’ll deal with him.” Kun says. You immediately shake your head in disagreement.

“No! I’ll go. You don’t need to–”

“I’m not letting that man harass you, y/n—”

“No, Kun. I’m not letting you deal with my problems anymore.” Before Kun could even say anything, you opened up the door to see a very angry Yeonjun.

Kun rushed to your side, but you didn’t let him get in contact with Yeonjun and slammed the door shut.

“You’re gonna ghost me and you think that’s funny?” Yeonjun seemed to calm down, seeing you in front of him.

There’s quite a crowd that’s forming in the hallway, some have their phones out, some whispering whilst looking at you two. Not that you care.

“Let’s talk outside—”

“Yes, you’re coming with me after I punch that–” Before Yeonjun could even finish saying it, you looked him straight in the eyes, pointing at him.

“You’re not touching Kun,” you say, full of conviction. If there’s anything you could do for Kun, its that you will protect him from getting tangled with your mess.

You pulled his wrist to get him out of the building.

At the end of the day, there’s one thing that could shut these kinds of men up. It’s getting real easy, one thing you do for them and they’ll behave like a dog. It’s getting laughable, really.

So you shut them up. By doing what you do best.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

You were sixteen, when you got your heart broken for the first time.

“Stop looking at my brother, you weirdo.” Jisung threw a pillow towards your position on the couch.

The soft object hit you right in the noggin, earning a grunt as you pulled your eyes off of him.

“Bitch. It’s not my fault he’s getting hotter by the day. Damn,”

You were busy staring out the pool area, where Jeno and his friends are hanging out. You were at Jisung’s place, spending your summer in the most boring ways.

Good thing Jeno’s gorgeous self is here, entertaining you. He’s so pretty, you could just eat him up.

“No he’s not. He’s a nerd!” Jisung fights back, earning a smirk from you.

“Says the one who's summer plans are to play league of legends until he becomes a ‘Challenger’ .” You retort, cranking your neck back to where Jeno was.

You recognize his friends, of course. They’re starting to gain popularity in the school, especially when Jeno got on the basketball team.He’s been working out a lot, gaining extra muscles, toning his body to get even hotter. If that’s even possible.

“Eugh, Jisung, y/n’s drooling over Jeno-hyung again.” Chenle enters the conversation, with a soda in his hand and plops himself on the couch.

“I am not drooling!”

“I got something you can drool on.” Chenle’s awful snark earns a hefty punch on his shoulder from you, the boy laughing in a high-pitch tone that makes it even more annoying than it is.

“Anyways, I think he likes me too.” You sigh dreamily, remembering the things Jeno does to you specifically.

He always carries your bags for you. He’s always the first person to welcome you into their house, and the first person to ask if you’ve had breakfast yet. He offers you rides to school when he sees you walking, and he always asks how your day has been. He’s so charming, so nice and you just can’t help but give at least a little bit of malice into it.

I mean, there has to be something, right?

“Oh she’s crazy. She’s fucking insane!” Chenle dramatically gasps, and points at you like you’ve committed a crime.

“That is seriously concerning, y/n. The level of delusion– my god.” Jisung joins in, as he pauses his game to look back and judge you.

“You two are just haters. Get off my ass!” You flip them off, with two hands, each one gets a middle finger from you.

“Look, y/n, we’re just sparing you from getting your little heart broken. Jeno-hyung does not like you.” Chenle’s tone becomes more serious this time, but in your head, he’s wrong. If Jeno didn’t like you, then why would he get out his way just to walk you home whenever you leave their house way too late?

“Seriously. You guys, I really think he’s the one for me. I mean, I can’t really think of any other reason as to why he’s so kind to me, y’know?”

Jisung looked at Chenle as if he really cannot believe what he’s hearing from you. Chenle shakes his head left to right, disappointment spread all over his face.

A set of laughter broke your conversation as you three faced out the pool side, to see Jeno and his friends now actually playing in the pool. Jeno then went on the edge, the ones in front of the back door where you were looking from, and pulled himself out of the water.

The trinkets of water dripping in his hair was one thing, but his wet body being revealed in front of you, the perfect curve of his shoulders down to his small waist, and the veins in his arms definitely woke something up in you.

“Yeah… I’ll confess to him tonight.” your voice almost sounded strange, like you were in a hypnotic state, still mesmerized by Jeno.

“Jesus christ, y/n–” before Jisung finishes, Chenle interrupts.

“Dude, let her. This is her canon event.”

You had no idea what that means, and you’re not interested to know. One thing’s in your mind, Jeno will be yours by midnight.

9:56pm

It’s like the heavens planned it all out for you.

Jeno’s friends all left, as to your surprise, because you thought they’d at least spend the night. Jeno had always offered to let his friends stay, but this time, he asked them to leave before 6. Which is odd, yes, but this all favors you in a way.

Chenle and Jisung still visibly opposed to your idea, and you’re sure they had reason to think its not gonna work out, but it’s not like it matters to you.

Whilst the three of you are in Jisung’s room, you can hear the TV on the lounge area. Their parents are out of town this summer, something about a cruise, so that means, it has to be Jeno.

In your mind, it’s the perfect timing. It’s deep in the evening, the moon’s out, and there’s never been an opportunity where you’re brave enough to actually confess.

Your heartbeat notches another tempo, as you leave Jisung’s room, much to the two’s dismay.

Before you could get to the lounge area, you’d have to pass the kitchen first.

A couple more steps, your feet turning cold, but you still managed. But before you can get a glimpse on the couch, your name was called.

“Y/n?” It’s him. Fuck, it’s him!

Okay, so he’s in the kitchen. That’s fine. Take a deep breath, You just gotta talk to him!

“Jeno,”

You took a step closer to where he was, and he’s looking extra delectable with his white shirt and grey sweatpants. Not that there’s been a moment where he didn’t look good.

“Are you going home? Ask Jisung to walk you home, I kinda—“

“Jeno, I want to talk to you, actually.” Now your voice trembles, and you’re starting to feel nervous.

“Oh, okay. Sure, what’s up?” Jeno looks to be still oblivious to your anxious state. He puts down the wine that he was holding, and turned to you completely.

You gulped, finally looking up to his eyes. He had a shadow of smile on them, but was still curious on what you had to say. You're mere two feet away from him, yet his musky scent still invades your nose.

God, all of that can be yours.

“But you’d have to say it fast because I have—”

“I like you. Very much.”

The deafening silence engulfs you, and only the sound of your heartbeat was prominent. Him, on the other hand, eyes wide, mouth ajar.

“—and I know this is so sudden but I’ve liked you ever since we were kids. I’ve always thought you were cute and nice to me!” You tried to fill in the silence, because every second that passed with him not saying anything kills you.

Another second passed, and your nervousness is long gone, because it was replaced by an impending doom.

“Y/n, look, I really appreciate it but… I-I’m just being nice.. I have to be nice. You’re my brother’s best friend—”

Fuck, shit, fuck! This cannot be happening!

“Oh, my, god!”

A high pitched voice behind you tores the tension in the air, and when you looked back, you saw Eunmi, with an amused look in her face, then covering her mouth with her hands.

She let out a laugh, as if he finds all of this ridiculous.

All of a sudden, you can’t breathe. Your heart was about to explode as you looked back at where Jeno was, seeing two wine glasses behind him. The movie in the background, still playing.

And it all just stops.

“That’s so cute!” Eunmi screeched, before walking towards Jeno and snaking her arms around him.

“Babe, I was wondering why it’s taking so long, you didn’t tell me this girl is pouring her heart out to you! Awe,”

You can feel your eyes warming up. You had so much left to say. But your voice can’t be found. The heart ache was too loud for you to even utter a word.

And in the end, all you could say was, “I’ll.. go home.”

Then you were gone, every step with every tear drop, and although you expected it to hurt, it still surprises you how painful it was.

You’re glad he didn’t run after you. You can’t be more pathetic than this, but it would kill you for him to witness your vulnerability.

Jeno was your first love.

And then Jeno became your first heartbreak.

With all the smiles he brought you, you never thought he could cause you so many tears.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Is it wrong to be this young and this tired?

You look at yourself in the mirror, analyzing every inch of your body. On the contrary, you don’t hate what you see. You’ve worked so hard to attain the body that you have now, and you’re satisfied where you’re at.

But there’s an empty feeling in your stomach that never left, and you can’t seem to figure out what it is. It’s always been there.

“Get back to bed,” You hear a disgruntled sound from the bed, and immediately your smile fades. You’re pulled back to reality, one that you hated to be in.

“I’m going home,” you say, before grabbing your clothes and putting them back on.

You don’t know why you do this, but you wait before walking out the door, for a sliver of a second to see if the man on the bed even attempts to ask you to stay. And just what you expected, he didn’t.

Sometimes you wish you’re worthy of being asked to stay, but who were you kidding.

There’s a deep routed scar that you’ve been trying so hard to cover. You like to think that the antidote that you have for it works, but the way you’ve been stuck in the same situation all over again says otherwise.

You thought you were healing, but the truth is, you just stopped feeling.

All your life is ahead of you, they say. But yours feels far behind.

You don’t really know where you went wrong, you thought if you became pretty, everybody would like you. You thought that if you agreed to sleep with them, they’d appreciate you. You thought that if you change your entire personality, they would start to see you.

Where did you go wrong? You dyed your hair blonde, you worked your body to achieve the hourglass figure and you even went ahead and let every man that looks your way to have you. Isn’t that enough?

See, this is why you hate being sober. You hate being alone with your thoughts, because it drowns you. You start thinking of things that overwhelms you to the point of tears, and you hate crying. You’ve already done too much of that before.

So why does everybody hate you for drinking? If that’s the only escape you know? It isn’t fair.

“I’m losing my mind,” you say, biting your nails and jerking your knees in frustration.

“Jesus, you’re like a crack addict without crack for a day.” Chenle says as he looks at you.

“She hasn’t had alcohol in a week,” Jisung says as if he’s proud, smiling at you.

You roll your eyes. You’ve been trying to stray off alcohol ever since Jisung and Kun asked you to. You ought to at least try, because you owe them that. On the latter part, if it didn’t work, and you spiral out, you can at least say that you tried.

“Ah, fuck it.” You say, but before Jisung freaks, you clarify, “I’m just gonna smoke for a bit, grandpa.” You say and dashed out of his dorm, down to the parking lot.

It’s winter, and the snow has already covered the streets. The cold was always your favorite season, it gives you reason to just stay inside and cuddle up in your cozy room.

You open up a new packet of cigarettes as you stand outside basking in winter air. It’s especially windy today, you thought.

The heat of the smoke traveling through your lungs was refreshing. It rivals the coldness of the wind, creating a balance that hits you just right. A perfect combination of sensation to combat the numbness in you.

Before the light hits the filter of the cigarette, you hear a screeching sound to your left.

It was a car, no, it was his car.

You mentally curse, throwing the unfinished stick to your feet and stomping on it. You frantically try to walk back up the building, but as you hear the car door slamming, you take a deep breath.

“Smoking’s really bad for you,” Jeno says, walking towards your direction.

“You basically run off of weed and gatorade, Jeno.”

Although you did try your best to keep walking, Jeno catched up in a couple of steps. You stood together waiting for the elevator.

“Is Chenle upstairs, too?” He starts.

“Yeah. Congrats on the game, Jeno. Sorry I had to ruin your night,” you followed it with a slight laugh, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Nah, it’s fine. Didn’t wanna stay in that party anyways,”

The elevator finally dings open, you hesitate to move at first, but when Jeno enters the lift and looks at you, you take this as a sign to walk in with him. So walk in you did.

“Kun took care of you, right?” He asks. You badly wanted to look at him, but you chose not to.

“Yeah.. he’s a great guy.” You silently say, not feeling good about the conversation.

“Hm,” he paused. The suspicious tone made you look at him, anticipating what comes out of his mouth next.

“I saw you walking out of Yeojun's dorm last night tho.” He says as if it was nothing, as if it was a little detail he had to tell you. But the underlying idea behind his statement was obvious.

You hitched your breath. No, y/n. Fight back.

“What can I say, I’m booked and busy.”

“You’re— that’s not something to be proud of, y/n.” He states as if he’s running out of patience, now looking back at you.

You smirked wider, “Oh don’t be a hypocrite, Jeno. You do the same damn thing,”

He grunts in frustration. “Yes but you’re different, y/n!”

8… 9….

“Different in what way? Because I’m a woman? And this isn’t what women do? Don’t give me that bullshit,”

“Fuck that, you know that’s not what I meant. I’m just protecting you from what people think about you.”

10… 11… 12…

“Jeno, I want you to listen to me carefully.” You took another step closer to him, looking up to level your face with his. “—whatever you heard about me, I want you to times it by a million, and when you think it’s bad, make it worse.” You whispered.

You tilt your head to hover your lips on his ear, “And guess what, who knows, maybe they’re telling the truth.”

And as soon as the elevator hits the 15th floor, you walk out without looking back.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

You were a lost cause.

Jeno thought he just needed to accept the fact that you’re just never gonna be the same.

He doesn’t know why it bothered him so much, the fact that you’re not letting anyone help you. It never bothered him before, and so, it shouldn’t bother him now.

It’s not his fault that you turned out to be this way. It’s not his fault.

So he distracts himself. Both in ways of basketball and women.

He tried to go back to his old ways, back to where he’s safe. He was doing fine, before you plagued his system. Plus, it’s not like he didn’t try, he damn did try.

Maybe this version of you is the real you. Maybe this is what’s meant to be.

“Holy fuck,” Haechan eyes the woman who walks out of Jeno’s room, obviously checking her out. Jeno just rolled his eyes and spread his arms around the back of the couch. Dragging a long hit of the weed he seemed to never get run out of.

“That’s the third girl this week, Jeno. Are you trying to break my record?” Haechan scoffed, as if proud of his friend.

“I’m not trying to break anything, but if you want, I’d gladly break your nose.”

Haechan put both his hands up, taking a step back because out of all of them, Jeno’s the one who could really do it. And he’s not trying to risk his beautiful face.

“Dude, this is bad.” Renjun was the second one to comment, following Haechan. He looked at Jeno’s state, and he can tell something’s not right. There’s something bothering Jeno, and Renjun can’t exactly tell what.

He had an idea, but he’s sure as hell won’t tell it to Jeno’s face.

“What? I have two weeks before the game. I need to relax.” Jeno says, ignoring the concern in Renjun’s face.

“And this is relaxing to you?” Renjun grabs an empty bottle of beer, one of the many that’s scattered all over the place.

Jeno didn’t answer, letting a sigh out of his lips and closing his eyes. He can’t think straight right now, or in the past week. He had been sleeping with different girls, to the point where he ran out of bed sheets to use. His room stinks of sweat and axe body spray, and he can’t seem to be satisfied, at all.

“I don’t know, Junnie. Just… leave me alone.” At this moment, Renjun can’t help but sigh. It's these kinds of moments where he knows that Jeno needs someone. Where the one month gap in their age really shines and Jeno needs his older brother, Renjun.

He puts down the plastic bag of trash and sat beside Jeno. “Look, Jeno. I’m not gonna sit here and ask you what this is about, but this is starting to look really sad. Jaemin is already down, and I don’t need you broken too. I can’t handle Haechan by myself,” Renjun, in an attempt to lighten up the mood.

“Junnie, just let me be, okay? I swear.. this will pass.”

“I sure hope it would. Because you can’t fix someone if you’re broken yourself. That’s just plain dumb.”

He grunts, and cursed deeply because he know’s Renjun’s right. But how can he, when it feels like he’s stuck? When has everything, but he feels like he’s got nothing? He has a great future ahead of him, he knows that, but why does it feel like something’s missing?

Girls, money, fame. What more could he want?

In a split second, Jeno regrets asking himself that question. Because he feel like he knows the answer, but he really doesn’t like it.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

“Lee Jeno, what the fuck was that?!”

Yangyang pushed Jeno, but instead of fighting back, Jeno just shook his head. He raked his fingers across his hair as he sat at the bleachers.

Thank fuck this isn’t the actual university game. Because if it was, they’d for sure lose the first quarter and Jeno will have his first ever loss written on his otherwise squeaky clean reputation.

“Don’t fucking yell at my face.” Jeno’s voice thundered.

“Five hundred dollars are at stake, and Minho would not let us live if you lose against him, Jeno.” Yangyang’s voice was a lot more controlled, but still angry, nonetheless.

“Man, I don’t really care.” Jeno let out an unenthusiastic chuckle, drinking out of his tumbler.

“What?” Yangyang feels like he’s mistaken. Lee Jeno doesn’t care if he loses? In a basketball game, that is? Oh he truly thinks the world has turned upside down.

Before he could even ask his friend again, Minho starts shouting from the other side of the court.

“What, Lee Jeno? The magic doesn’t work now, doesn’t it?” Minho yells, earning a laugh from his teammates.

“Fuck you! Games not over, bitch!” Yangyang yells back, full of confidence but looked back at Jeno, worry splattered in his face.

“Dude, I swear, we need to put that son of a bitch back in his place!” Yangyang angrily whispers.

“I’m gonna sit this one out, Yang–”

“How about we bet on that y/n girl?! Your brother’s friend, right? Heard she spreads it open to just about anyone who looks at her funny!”

Without even thinking, Jeno’s fast on his feet, and his vision turns red. His fist curled up and his logical thinking was out of the window. His vision is straight at Minho, and his only thought is to knock this bitch out.

Yangyang couldn’t even process anything, as he watches Jeno’s eyes darkens and before any of his teammates could even try and stop Jeno, his fist already connects with Minho’s face. The boy fell down, immediately knocked out, and chaos between both teams ensues. But Jeno didn’t stop.

He’s not letting Minho get up.

“Jeno, slow the fuck down.” He heard a concerned voice at the corner of the nearby club he went to. His feet dragged him here after the incident, wanting to drown himself with anything that could take away his mind from everything.

One shot, two shots, three shots, four.

“I’m paying you, Doyoung, aren’t I?” Jeno says, rolling his eyes at the older man in front of him.

Doyoung was another person Jeno trusts. Besides the three idiots back in his apartment, Doyoung is also the one Jeno’s comfortable with.

“Yes, but I don’t want to report an alcohol poisoning inside my bar, Jeno.” Doyoung can tell Jeno’s done for the night. Slumped over his counter, he forces the shot glass out of Jeno’s hold.

He signals one of his co-bartenders to take over the bar for a bit, before dragging Jeno’s body out of the bar. He notices the bruising at the boy’s hand but he didn’t say anything and drove Jeno home.

“I don’t want to go back to my apartment, Haechan’s there with a girl,” Jeno mumbled, slowly getting more and more sober as the fresh air wakes him up.

“Where’d you want me to bring you then?” Doyoung asked.

“I don’t know… fuck.. just, bring me back to my brother’s.”

Thankfully, Doyoung knew Jisung’s apartment. He’s close with both of the brothers, often being mistaken as a brother as well. But after graduating, he just naturally went off and did other things.

Doyoung huffs as soon as he successfully brought Jeno in front of Jisung’s apartment, however, another problem was that Jisung isn’t answering the phone.

“Jeno, I really can’t stay here with you, I just sneaked out of my shift,” he explains, but Jeno just dismissed him and nods. Doyoung knocks at the door before he left, making sure that if there was a person inside, they’d open the door for Jeno.

Jeno wasn’t as drunk as earlier, that’s for sure. What’s left is the pounding headache plus the fact that no one’s opening the door for him.

Out of sheer frustration, he kicks the door, strong enough to make a banging sound but not hard enough to damage it.

“Fucking Jisung,” he murmured to himself, almost turning his heels to walk out, but before he could, rattling on the other side of the door can be heard.

Jeno sighs in relief, but seconds after it opened, what greets him almost knocks the breath out of his lungs.

“Shit, Jeno.” Your soft voice matched your soft expression as you look at him with obvious shock.

Jeno, on the other hand, didn’t want to extend the painful awkward silence.

“I-Is my brother there?” Stuttering was never Jeno’s thing. Until this moment, he thinks.

“He’s… he’s like, I think at a girls place somewhere… fuck, I think her name’s Jieun or some shit..” Your eyes take turns in blinking, but still standing straight— conflicting the idea that you’re drunk. Well, at least not y/n drunk.

“Then why are you here?” He didn’t know why, but his hands automatically grabs the door knob to swing the door more open to see if you’re inside with somebody.

He just needs to know you’re alone.

“I crash here sometimes… when I’m locked out of my apartment.” You shoulders where slumped, words were coming out slow. Jeno can tell you’re not sober.

He can’t say shit because he’s not in an exactly sober state as well. So he just proceeds to walk past you to enter the dorm.

Technically, Jisung’s place is his place too. Their parents fixed it up for the two of them but Jeno chose to stay over at his shared apartment with the other boys. So he can do whatever he wants to do.

The entire place reeks of weed, and the floor has two empty bottles of Soju. He almost threw up, he hates Soju.

“Jesus fucking christ, Jisung.” He murmured as he picks up the trash, forgetting that you were standing behind him baffled.

“I’m sorry about that…” Of course it’s yours. Of course you’ve been drinking again. Fuck him for thinking that it’s his brother’s fault. Because it’s would always be you.

Jeno stays quiet. He’s not in the best mood to even look at you. Everything that’s been happening to him recently is because of you. He hates that he blames you, but he can’t just think of someone else.

“Jeno...” Your soft voice calls for him again. It took everything from him to ignore you, and walk back to the kitchen and throw all the trash away.

He’s hanging by a thread, and he starts to realize it’s a bad idea to stay here for long.

He takes a deep breath and walks towards the door, but before that, he felt a tight grip in his arms.

“Jeno.. talk to me.” The sultry voice you had did not go unnoticed, and Jeno couldn’t help but stop his tracks.

Don’t break, Jeno.

“Jeno.. please look at me.”

He forces your grip out of his arms. It kills him, so much to hear you like this.

“I’m leaving,” He managed to say, however, his feet says otherwise. He’s standing still, not even another step out the door.

“You’re not, please. Just… just look at me.” Jeno heaves, his hands turning into fists as he tries and compose himself.

Just this once.

He turns his heel and immediately surrendered. The moment he let his eyes on you, he already lost the game.

“Why don’t you want me?”

He gulps. He bit his lip to stop himself from saying anything, because he doesn’t trust that he’s not going to say something he’s not ready to say.

“You’ve had so many girls.. Jeno, why not me? I’m…” You paused, you look left to right as if you’re finding words to say. “..I’m better than all of them.”

“Y/n—“

“No! Fuck it, Jeno! There’s no fucking reason why you won’t fuck me! It doesn’t make any fucking sense!” Jeno hears ringing in his head, the string of patience threatening to snap.

“Why? Explain to me fucking why you would fuck all those bitches and not me? I swear.. Jeno, I’m good— fuck that, I’m the best—”

“I’m so—”

“Ask half of your team.”

In that note, the last thread he was hanging on to snapped. You want him? Fine. Take it.

He grips your arms and drags you inside of the room, and in his peripheral view, he can see your demeanor changes. Now, your eyes are mischievous, and your lips turning into a smirk.

“You want to fucking play that game? Fine, I’ll fucking play with you.” Jeno almost growls, letting you sit on the bed as he slams the door shut.

“Strip.” He orders, in the most dominant voice he has.

You bit your lip as you look up at him. Slowly discarding your clothes one by one, but not breaking eye contact with him.

His eyes were dark. So dark that you can’t tell anything that’s on his mind. His jaw tightens at the sight of you almost stripped off of your dress.

“I’ve been so fucking patient with you,”

The dim lights shone at his back, as he craned his body down, standing before you. Nearing his face unto yours, the mirror on the side of the bed depicted something out of a dark fairytale, a silhouette of a beast trying to tempt an angel.

But in reality, the angel had already fallen. Deep and hard. The beast didn't even have to do anything.

"Tell me you want me," he says.

"I do, Jeno. I really want you," And as of this moment, you lost the battle you've fought for all these years.

"All this time, huh? You're still lusting over your best friend's brother?" Now, his tone was slightly teasing. His once gentle hands on your cheeks turned possessive, his grip getting tighter.

"Dirty, dirty, dirty little girl. Bet when you fuck those boys, you think of me, don't you?" His thumb on your lower lip, parting it softly.

"This is your chance, y/n. Tonight, I'm yours. Just tell me the words," his whispers turned deadly, as his own lips are almost touching yours.

"J-jeno.."

"Pretty, pretty, pretty..." His words spit like venom. Every movement of his lips gave you a tease, your entire body burning with desire.

Your mind was under his control, and you completely and utterly surrendered to him. He's not yours— you're his.

"—Please," you finally choked out, and like a green light, Jeno kissed you with hunger, pushing his entire body weight onto you forcing you to lay down on the bed.

“I thought you won’t beg anymore?” The cockiness in his voice would usually prompt a reaction from you but you don’t care anymore.

This time, his hips close the distance between your bodies, maneuvering his knees to position between your legs. Careful not to crush you, he kept balance of his weight as he pushed his hip further, creating a slight friction between your clothed core.

After what it seemed like forever, his lips traveled down your neck, and almost immediately you can feel that he's gonna leave a mark. You'll definitely leave with a painted neck.

His hands expertly went under your dress, grabbing your breast, squeezing them ever so slightly. It doesn't take a full minute when his hands went around your back and unclasped your bra like it was nothing. All while he was focused on kissing every part of your skin.

Of course he's good at this.

Just then, he pulled away but only to pull your dress up and completely undress you. He took his time looking at your exposed body.

"You're so fuckin' perfect," he mumbled more so to himself as he admired you. He leaned in again but this time his mouth landed on one of your breasts, sucking them deftly.

"Shit, Jeno," you can't help but moan his name, grab the back of his head to level yourself. You pulled his hair, and you didn't know if he likes it, but with the way he groaned gave you a hint that he does.

As he keeps himself busy, his hands go down to your clothed core. Goosebumps ran down your body as his middle finger traced your slit, already feeling the wetness you've desperately hid before.

"So fuckin' wet, and all for me. Am I right, baby?" He whispered, you answered with a whiny 'yes' that it almost sounded like a stranger.

"Lemme' take this off," he quickly pulled down your panties, only to be welcomed by your soaking wet core. Jeno was ravenous, like he's been starved all his life.

The room was dark, only a dim lamp providing some light, but the wetness in your pussy glistens and reflects, that Jeno swore he's never seen something so beautiful. You're beautiful, and he's gonna make you feel just exactly that.

You can hear his belt buckle, him swiftly taking all his clothes off.

"God, I can never get used to how fucking pretty you are, my pretty little baby," he mumbled again, to himself.

"Who was the last guy you fucked, baby?" Jeno asked, catching you off guard. He was pumping himself as he looks at you, and you never thought he would ask such question.

"Wha-- why? I don't kn- probably—" Your speech cut off when you looked down at his moving arms, to see all of him.

You've heard rumors. You knew he was packing. But good God, he's so fucking big. Almost knocking the breath out of your lungs. You're starting to get worried if it would fit.

"Doesn't even matter.. everyone else doesn't count. Just me.”

He then pressed his finger down in your core, finding the clit right away. Rapidly circling his finger, and a wave of pleasure started to form. "Oh fuck--," you moaned.

He dove down to kiss you, this time passionately. Much softer than before. Only for you to feel his finger entering you that you went crazy. Not long before he added another,pumping it swiftly in and out. He moved away from your face to watch your expression. And he fucking loved it.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum-" you whispered.

"Go on, baby." Jeno, encouraging you even more, fingers going faster.

"Shit.. oh my go-" and then it hit you, your first orgasm of the night. Jeno's face was all you can see, and his fingers was all you can feel. Your brows furrowed, mouth agape, you felt like you can't control your body. Jeno's lips was also parted, as if he gains pleasure from watching you reach your climax.

"Good girl," he groaned.

"Need more, Jen. Please," begging was never on your vocabulary, until now.

"Shh, no need to beg, baby. I'm more than willing to give you all," his sweet words acted as an aphrodisiac, igniting the fire in you. As if you needed him to be even more sexier.

Because it was dark in the room, your sense of touch is heightened. Every touch lingered, and its as if you were touch deprived your entire life. Jeno brings out your true colors, and you're not mad about it.

"Make you feel good," he whispered more praises, and you can hear him pump himself as he aligned his length onto your aching core.

"Oh my god," you can't help but gasp, the stretch overwhelming you. You've never taken someone this big before, and it fucking felt like its your first time. Not in a painful way, but because you've felt a whole new sensation.

"S' wet, baby, fuck, you're choking me," in a low groan, Jeno slowly bottomed out. He sits fully inside you, and you can feel every single inch, every single vein. It felt so raw, and so right.

"Hmm, fuck, fuck you feel.. fucking hell. S' good." You never expected Jeno to be this vocal, and you weren't complaining. You always thought he didn't like being vocal, but damn, were you so wrong.

"Jeno.." you moaned, and you can already feel your impending orgasm. Its just that good.

Before Jeno could even find a pace with his thrust,, he pulled out. Your eyes opened in confusion, from the abrupt emptiness.

"Fuck this," Jeno was fast on his feet, you wondered where he was going, but before your mind settles on a conclusion, you were blinded by bright lights.

"Need to see you properly," he reasoned, before he went back to the position he was before.

With the lights on, you can now see his perfectly lean body, toned abs and the sweat beading on his sideburns. He looked so hot that you could cum right there and then.

"So fucking beautiful," Jeno never failed to compliment you, as he stares at you before sliding it in again. For the second time you gasp, but because he slid it in so swift that you didn't even get a second to breathe before he pounds.

"Oh, fuck, Jeno!" you squealed, your entire body rocking back and forth with how rough he was.

His hands grabbed your left leg and hooked it in his shoulder, all the while he kept the fast pace of his thrusts. You can see his face twist, him biting his lips and looking up. His expert thrusts made his abs flex everytime. The sight was stunning, and for a second there you were lost. You can't believe other girls had seen this before you.

The orgasm you fought so hard was out of your control now, and you knew you weren't gonna last.

"Jeno, I'm gonna cum," you tell him, and he switched his position in no time. "Together. Cum with me," he muttered.

"Come inside, Jeno. I need it so bad," you were slurring words at this point, so barbaric with the feeling.

He unhooked your leg and leaned forward. Your body now pressed together as he wrapped your legs onto his waist, his hands finding your neck, holding it steady as he touched his forehead with yours. His piercing eyes were hyper focused on yours.

"Eyes on me, baby. Fuck, please," he moaned, his tempo going even more rapid and desperate. Both of your mouths was wide open at this point.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck!" he stilled, as you both reached climax. He emptied himself inside you. You can't help but moan in a high pitch as orgasm washes over your entire body, an intense wave brought you to euphoria, and you never wanna leave.

"Damn," he whispered, almost in disbelief on how it felt to be with you. Still giving you everything he had, every single drop.

"Jeno," you called out once you relaxed, hoping to get him back to his senses.

"Wait- just.. shit." he managed to mutter despite his weak state. He's still wrapped around you, tight as if you were disappearing. Not to mention he's still balls deep.

A solid minute has passed when he decided to pull out, both of you hissing at the feeling. You felt so empty, and he felt so bare.

And when Jeno closes his eyes, he accepts defeat. You’ve successfully broken him.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Sooyoung, Minnie, Hoyeon, Yoonah.

So far, those are the names that you gathered.

It doesn’t take a long time to figure out what Jeno likes, based on the girls he’s been with. They’re all hot, popular with the boys, and if not the same age as him, they’re older.

The other common denominator is that they all have experience. When Jeno started sleeping around, you would only see him with women who’s expected to be with him. Like those women who knows how pretty they are, who’s aware how to handle a man like Jeno.

So when you finally turn eighteen, you did not waste time.

“Do you think I look hot in this, Ji?” You ask innocently, looking at your best friend through the mirror you’re standing in front of.

He barely looks up from his nintendo switch, and when you make eye contact, the look of disgust on his face makes you roll your eyes.

“Your freakin’ ass is hanging off that skirt. You look like a…” Jisung turns his head towards Chenle on the other side of the room, playing on his playstation.

“…hooker.” Chenle finished the sentence for him. You hide a smirk.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you!” You did a curtsy, before grabbing your purse.

“Wait, where are you going?” Chenle asked as soon as he paused the game to see you walk towards the door.

“NCU is throwing this party for the new basketball team, got an invite from Jungwoo.” You gave Chenle a wink, knowing it would annoy the heck out of him.

“What?! Why do I not know about this?!” You flinched when Chenle says the first word in the highest octave possible.

“Probably because we’re not in NCU’s college department yet? The party’s exclusive for college students, dumbass.” Jisung says boredly, bringing his attention back to his nintendo.

“Except I got an invite, you losers didn’t!” And just for extra annoyance, you stick your tongue out to mock them.

Chenle only huffs, but takes his phone out of his pocket.

“Invited or not, I’m going. I’m sure your broke ass would take up a free ride to the party,” He says as he waits for someone on his phone.

“And how do you plan to enter the party, dimwit? You don’t have an invite,” Jisung asks.

“I’m Zhong fucking Chenle. That’s my invite.” He smirks, grabs his keys and your wrist. You flew a kiss towards Jisung and left his apartment.

Booming music, strobe lights. The bass vibrates through the wall and honestly, this is way too extreme from what you expected. This is the first real party you had attended, where you’re specifically invited.

Jungwoo was someone you knew, from one of your girlfriends. He’s three years ahead of you, making him a year older than Jeno. And to be frank, Jungwoo didn’t peak your interest at first. But when you knew that he’s in Jeno’s friend circle, you figured that maybe, you do like Jungwoo.

“Hey,” Someone from behind you whispers on your ear, making you whip your head. You saw Jungwoo, head hangs low just to whisper. He displays a playful smile as he hugs you.

But before you could even tighten his embrace, Chenle took a protective stance, putting his arms in between. “Woah dude, chill out.”

Jungwoo chuckled, putting his hands up. “Zhong, calm down,”

You immediately give Chenle a look of confirmation, “I’m good, Le.”

“Just making sure.” He says and steps back. He patted Jungwoo’s shoulder in a sense that he’s good. Chenle has always been protective, in literal terms. Jisung however, is protective in a motherly kind of way. In short, Chenle’s fights, Jisung nags.

“Why don’t you talk to Jaehyun? Heard he’s interested in taking you in the team.” Jungwoo says making Chenle widen his eyes, a breathless ‘really?’ coming out of his lips and Jungwoo nods. You pushed Chenle to go find the Jaehyun guy and before you know it, you’re alone with Jungwoo.

“He’s really into basketball, huh?” Jungwoo, sounding amused.

You on the other hand, start roaming your eyes around the room. You’re here for someone, and you need to know if they’re in this party, or else this would be a huge waste of time if he’s not here.

“Yeah, he basically worships Stephen Curry.” You looks at him, to at least try to entertain the boy.

“Mm-hm.” The way his hands crawl into your waist so naturally was a shock to you, but you don’t say anything at all. He starts walking and with his hands attached on your body, you can’t help but walk with him.

“So.. where’s the team?” You really did try to prolong the moment you’re with Jungwoo, but you just can’t stay still without confirming if he’s here.

“They’re upstairs. Some of my teammates doesn’t really like hanging out with too many people.”

“How about you?”

“I was waiting for you, pretty.” Jungwoo flashes a smile, someone could argue his most defining feature but then again, you have your sights on someone else.

True to his words, Jungwoo brought you upstairs, where it’s more intimate with a few people. There’s a lounge area in front of a bar and that's where you spot the certain someone you’ve been looking for.

And as expected, he has a girl with him.

“Hey, guys, uh– this is y/n.” Jungwoo awkwardly introduces you to everyone, including Jeno who at first was shocked at your presence, but soon enough replaced with a certain tension in his eyes.

You did a small wave, still shy at the amount of eyes on you. These people are legends on campus. They’re basically the school’s pride and seeing them acknowledging you was amusing. And Jeno, like the perfect man that he is, just fits right in.

“Hi, I’m Juyeon,” He extends his hands, so you, a person who doesn’t like leaving people hanging, gladly accepts it.

And everyone else follows suit, except Jeno. He was looking at something else, not even the girl he’s with. He’s fixated at his beer can, looking at it very seriously.

“Jeno?” Jungwoo asks, questioning why the boy didn’t acknowledge you.

He looked at Jungwoo, and he was about to answer but you did it for him.

“We know each other. I’m friends with his brother.” You smile at Jungwoo, and he seemed to understand it so he just lead you to the empty spot on the lounge.

They started talking, but your attention was on Jeno. You realized that this is his crowd, quickly you found that he’s very different in front of other people. He’s more talkative, that’s for sure.

But your eyes also catch the soft touches he graces the girl beside him. The whispers he gave, the smiles and subtle kisses on the side of her head. His arms around her and the jokes he tells just for the two of them.

It has been years since he rejected you, yet the pain still stings.

You took your eyes somewhere else, made easy as Jungwoo starts to caress your shoulder. He leaned below, matching your face. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you smiled at him. You weren’t, but you’re obviously not gonna tell that.

He hands you a shot of what you assume alcohol, with his eyes anticipating your next move. This is the first time you’re drinking without Chenle or Jisung around, and you’re unsure if this was okay.

But with everybody starting to look at Jungwoo’s waiting hand, the shot clearly for you, you start to panic. There’s no way you’re gonna embarrass yourself in front of these seniors.

So you suck it up and took the shot. You’re not sure, but you got a glance from Jeno that tells he’s not happy with your action.

The taste of the alcohol was strong, but somehow your throat didn’t burn. Yes, you definitely felt it heat up your taste buds but not bad enough for you to hate it. It’s like a sensation that hypes up your system.

And so, with your new found information, you were more confident in taking shots now. And exactly that you do.

But with the amount of liquid going in, it has to come out. So you excused yourself to the bathroom to pee. You assured Jungwoo you were okay, because heck yeah, you’re fine.

Not until you actually stood up. Good thing you didn’t stumble, but shit, your world is spinning.

You bee line straight to the bathroom and relieve yourself. It took a couple minutes before you finished washing your hands, and as you walk out of the restroom, you were met by a figure clearly waiting for you to finish up.

“J-Jeno,” you muttered, moreso in surprise.

“Y/n what the hell are you doing here?” He whispers, angrily of course.

“Jungwoo invited me!” You whisper back, leaning on the door behind you to balance yourself.

“Where’s my brother? Chenle?” He looms over you, and all you can think about is his luscious lips, mere inches to yours.

“They.. Chenle came with me, Ji stayed home..” You answer, despite being in a trance. The entire place is spinning, but not Jeno’s face. It’s there, in front of you.

“I need you to find Chenle and go home.” He says in finality, expecting you to follow. You knit your brows, as you take in offense over what he’s doing.

“What? I’m invited here!” You whined.

“Find Chenle. Now.” The growl in his last words made you slightly intimidated, not to mention his eyes burning holes into your own.

God, he’s so handsome.

You don’t know if its the vodka, or just plain recklessness that gave you the idea of just tipping on your toes and try kissing Jeno.

It made perfect sense in your head. Your hands cupping his cheeks obviously caught him off guard, but before your lips touch his, his reflex of pushing you off was unfortunately faster.

He shoved you harsh, causing you to stumble and almost losing your balance.

“What the fuck?!” He yells.

Your heartbeat went quicker. Everything started to process. Jeno looks so mad, he huffs and wiping his palm against the part of his face that your lips had touched.

“I-I’m s-sorr—”

“I have a fucking girlfriend, y/n!” He spits, words felt like daggers through your chest.

“Jeno, I’m sorry. I was out of—” Your eyes start to burn.

“Are you that desperate? I rejected you already, didn’t I? I will never look at you different than being my brother’s best friend, y/n! So stop this fucking delusion while I’m being nice.” Jeno points his fingers at you, making you flinch a little bit.

“Jeno, please.” Your tears are now slowly flowing. You attempted to grab his wrist to make him stay and listen to your apologies but he swiped it off like he’s disgusted to be touched by you.

“No, y/n. You’re like a sister to me. It disgusts me to even think of being with you romantically. So please, know your fucking place.”

With that, he walks out and leaves you broken.

You don’t understand. You did everything by the book. You looked pretty, you knew how he liked girls. You made yourself into his fantasies and he still can’t see past the fact that you’re just his brother’s bestfriend.

You take a deep breath between the sobs, calming yourself down. You felt horrible. You felt so sick and embarrassed. You felt so fucking desperate and pathetic that you just want to numb yourself of the pain.

You grab your chest, having difficulty breathing from crying too hard.

This is way more than a broken heart.

You’re no longer consolable, and there’s just no way you’re going back there with your makeup now ruined.

Are you that hard to want?

Are you that hard to need?

The tears don't stop as you walk out of the party. Gladly, everybody’s wasted so nobody noticed you ugly-crying.

As you turn to an alleyway, you shoot Jungwoo a text saying you got sick, and Chenle saying you got an uber home.

With your 7-inch heels on your hand, in the cold street, you walk in shame.

Bare feet on the sidewalk, shivering, that's when you noticed a bar.

Your feet prompted to enter, so that you did. You were going to drown the pain, and there’s nothing in your mind except alcohol.

You hoped that it would ease the pain.

And it did, the effects of it giving you a temporary memory loss. This was the numbing you needed.

The sensation of alcohol gave you solace, and for a while, your thoughts melted into nothingness.

Staring at the shot glass in front of you, you made a promise to your eighteen year old self.

That if Jeno doesn’t want you, you’ll make it your life’s mission to make everyone else crave you. You don’t need Jeno.

You’ll never be rejected again.

And just as soon as you felt like you can breathe again, your phone buzzed.

[2:34am] jisung: y/n, come home, quickly. it’s your mom.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

It was odd to say the least.

This has been what you’ve wanted for so many years. You prayed— and begged the heavens for Jeno to finally take you, to prove that you can get him.

And now, you’ve proven your point.

But why does it feel… strange?

Yes, it was the best sex you’ve had, and it might be the only one that could make you feel that way. It was mindblowing, it was everything and more.

Isn’t this the goal? For him to actually step over that line of being your best friend’s brother?

What else did you want?

Honestly, you don’t know anymore. Hence, you sneak out of the apartment in the middle of the night. Jeno was laying on his stomach, the comforter covering his lower half. His back muscles spread across the sheets and you take the art in. He really is sculptured to perfection.

You managed to put on your clothes and walk out of the apartment building. You find yourself in a nearby convenience store, walking through the isle finding something you didn’t know. Your mind is blank and empty.

These are the times where you wished there was someone to guide you to what you should do next. Because you have no idea. You’re confused, and you need direction.

These are the moments where you wished your mom was here. She would know what to do.

For a while, when you were with Jeno, you felt warmth you’ve always been trying to find from somebody else. With Jeno, you actually felt like sex wasn’t only about pleasure, but it’s also about being able to express unspoken feelings.

Sex wasn’t something you just needed to get over with. It felt amazing, It was perfect.

But it clicked too, that you know yourself was the only one who really appreciated it. Jeno— was in for the satisfaction. He never needed you like you needed him. You talked him into sleeping with you. You were begging for his touch.

You pushed him to a point where he just snapped and gave you what you’ve been desperately chasing him for.

And for what? Probably for you to stop. He was throwing scraps at you because he’s tired of that one girl who keeps chasing his tail. He just gave in, expecting you to finally give up.

Then it hit you. Your fourteen year old self, your eighteen year old self and your twenty-two year old self still has something in common.

You realize, that all the hard work, the wall you desperately tried to build was a fraud. Because at the end of the day, you never lost feelings for Jeno.

No matter how many people you’ve been with, it’s still gonna be Jeno for you.

That makes you laugh. In both ridiculousness and despair. Hopelessness felt eerily familiar.

Silly you, for thinking you’ve moved on.

Jeno is inevitable. And you’ll learn to accept it too.

As you reach up the isle and grab a bottle of Soju, a hand stops you.

“My love, are you okay?” A soft voice that you haven't heard in a while.

“Kun,”

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Jeno knows he’s royally fucked.

He gave into your trap, and you’ve successfully defeated him. All his morals, his beliefs, and the logic he stands on was out the window.

He knows you planned it out too. This was your way of taking revenge on him, when he repeatedly rejected you years ago.

He tried to keep his distance, because he promised.

And he takes his promises seriously, especially when it involves you. And he felt like he broke the one thing that’s keeping the promise he made a couple years ago.

You weren’t supposed to end up in his bed. You weren’t supposed to still want him after everything he’s done. You weren’t supposed to even be involved with him. He’s supposed to stay wherever he is, on the sidelines, silently protecting you.

But it’s all been done. You and Jeno did it, and it cannot be reversed. And now that its happened, there’s not much he can do. He has to hash things out, he has to fix everything.

Because no matter how many women he had before, no matter how many times he tricks himself, he had always felt like it wasn’t what he’s been searching for.

And when he finally had a taste of you, he’s afraid he’s gonna want more. And he’s afraid that he’ll never feel the way it felt with you. He’s horrified that what happened opened his eyes with what’s the truth.

And when he felt the other side of the bed cold, he opens his eyes and you’re gone.

Yeah, this is just a game for you.

But for him? Oh, he’s eternally fucked. The shame, the guilt, and everything in between creeps up. And not of you, he’ll never—ever be ashamed of you. He’s guilty about the fact that he let himself get carried away.

Out of frustration, he hits his steering wheel as he drove. He can’t believe he just did that.

He was drunk, you were clearly not in the right state of mind. Even if you were, he was still drunk. What happened was fucked up, both for him and for you.

He takes a deep breath before pulling out his phone.

He carefully types, calculating everything he needs to say.

[7:35am] to: y/n

hey. dont say anything to my brother. it was a mistake, i was drunk. i don’t really like you like that.

He sent it quick, afraid he’d delete it if he hesitated longer. And just as he did, he felt his whole chest stiffen.

Because once again, he lied. Both to you, and to himself.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

You woke up through the sounds of your phone ringing. It was the next week after the whole thing happened with Jeno, and you’ve not craved anything but sleep.

Kun never asked questions. Which you’re thankful for, but you can’t help but feel bad.

You ghosted the guy, again, but he welcomed you into his apartment with open arms like nothing happened. His smile was there, the warmth of his embrace still the same.

Before you could even say anything about your guilt, he’s quick to tell you that it’s okay. He’s with you because he wants to. Although you can’t give him what he wants the most.

In a perfect world, if you weren’t so fucked up, you’d be with Kun, no questions asked.

You were lucky it was the weekend, and you’ve got no class. So you just laid on Kun’s couch, binging away, rotting in the cushions. Kun doesn’t mind, he says its better than you going out and drinking.

Which is true, plus you just can’t physically get yourself back up and doing what you do before, after what happened with Jeno.

Jeno, Jeno, Jeno. Fucking Lee Jeno.

It’s like a curse, following you all throughout your existence. He’s like a ghost stuck in your hip, a burden you’d beg to get off of you. There’s just no way you’d have to carry these feelings towards him until your seventy, right? Jesus.

Your head whips at the door when you hear it open, not expecting Kun to come home so early.

He’s not here ‘til 7, right?

“Oh, you’re still here.”

Well, you’re right. It’s not Kun. It’s his lovely roommate Ten. Note the sarcasm on the lovely part.

“Yeah.” You backed down to the couch.

If there’s anyone annoyed at your presence, it’s definitely Ten. You think he harbored the anger and disappointment Kun should’ve had with you— like some sort of anger translator.

“Your roommate must be overjoyed having your place for her own.” He says, with feign casualness in his tone.

“She’s doing fine,”

“I mean, at this point, you’re gonna have to pay your share with the rent.” He scoffs as he puts down his bag harshly on the counter.

You let out a deep breath, reminding yourself that this is also his place. You’re not in a position to return his attitude because you, in your own thoughts, are aware that you’ve overstayed your welcome.

“Kun says its okay–”

“That’s–” Ten’s voice in a high pitch, but quickly calming himself down. “--that’s because Kun can’t say shit to you. I don’t know if you noticed but my friend is literally insane for you. And of course, you like the attention.”

You can’t help but look at him, your mouth slacking due to disbelief of what he just said. You bit your lip and paused, not wanting to say things without thinking about it first. Again, you're not in a position where you’re purely innocent in this situation.

“What do you want me to do? Tell me. I’ll leave right now.” You managed to calm your tone, avoiding any more discussion.

“What I want you to do is to be straight with Kun, y/n. I know you’re used to being a player, but Kun isn’t. He agreed to your situationship because you weren’t ready. You ghosted him for a few weeks and still he took you in even tho I fucking knew it was a dumb decision because he’s just hoping to be with you again. If you’re not planning to be with my friend, then just fucking make your decision. I know you’re not that cruel to string him along. He’s a good person, y/n.”

His sudden outburst caught you off guard, but every word he said was like a slap to you. Every sentence was nothing but facts, and you knew deep inside that you were in the wrong. That Ten was right. Kun is way too good for you. He does not deserve this.

You felt your eyes starting to warm, for a hundredth time. You nod in agreement. However, you can tell he wasn’t finished.

“He’s not your back burner, y/n. And I’m not saying this to you because I have a problem with you, but I’m saying this because he’s my friend. At first it was fine, but when you treat him lesser than what he deserves, I just feel like you’re being.. really selfish. It’s clear that you have your eyes on someone else. But please, Kun doesn’t do this type of shit. He’s way too naive. Poor guy thought he did something wrong.” The last sentence hits you the most, thinking about Kun probably did think that he’s the one to blame.

You sniff, nodding along Ten’s statement. “I will… I’ll talk to him.” You quietly say. Ten just looks at you before sighing, walking towards his door. As soon as his door closes, the front door opened.

“Sweet cheeks, what’re you doing?” Kun asks, seeing you standing on the doorway staring at nothingness.

You immediately wiped your tears and looked at him with a smile. “Really sad netflix movie,” you excused. Kun doubts, but chooses to stay silent. He walks two steps in front of you before giving you a warm hug like he does everytime he sees you at his apartment.

You gulp, gathering courage to actually start the conversation.

“Uh, Can we talk?” you nip at the bottom of your shirt.

“Of course, princess,” The old nickname he had somewhat felt like an assurance that he’s still the same. It lifted a bit of weight in your chest.

You sat in one of the chairs, not knowing what to do. This place was once your safe haven, now it just feels strange knowing what kind of situation you are in.

“So, uhm, I want to apologize for.. essentially cutting you off. It’s just that, uh, I’ve been–”

“You’ve been with Lee Jeno, right?” he asks, a ghost of a smile still present in his face.

“Well, yeah, but also, I didn’t know that I had that much of a relevance in your life so...” you say, honestly.

“Darling, you were everything.” he pauses. “--but I know that I’m not what you need, or what you wanted. And that’s fine. You don’t need to feel bad, it’s just how it goes.”

“But I’m here, and I promise you, that you don’t need to feel responsible about how I feel. I’ll be fine.” He smiles, like he used to, but this time you know it’s fake.

“Kun, you’re too good for me. You deserve more than me.” Your eyes start to water, but Kun never lets it drop. He caresses your cheeks for what it feels like the last time, before nodding at you.

“I know, baby.” He leaned closer, lips slowly grazing yours. As you felt it, the instinct of kissing back was swift, but Kun did not give you the chance of doing so as he pulled away.

“Don’t kiss me back, please,” he mumbled, before caressing your face for what it felt like the last time before turning away.

And just like that, you lost the man who was ready to give you everything for a man who can’t even spare you a glance.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Jeno is still out of his mind.

He had flunked out of practice, only attending a couple times out of the two weeks that he needed to attend. Barely even there, just standing and basically lifeless in the court.

His coach and his teammates already feel less secure because of Jeno’s state of mind, especially when he’s supposed to be the team’s captain. He feels like shit, truly, and he knows he should be focusing on the game. But how can he, when all he can think of is you?

His coach gave him a hard talking but even that can’t seem to shake him up. His willingness to play disappeared like it was nothing.

He’s pretty sure the entire team hates him now, and if only there’s time to replace him, they’d definitely do it, but finding a replacement, with his skills, is basically impossible. Moreso in limited time.

As soon as he enters his apartment, he throws his bag on the floor and tunnels through his room to lock himself in there. But as soon as he entered it, he was shocked to find his brother laying in his bed.

“What’re you doing here?” He asks, confused.

“Just want to know something,” Jisung says, slowly sitting up. He looks up his brother, standing in the door frame. Jeno couldn’t read his expression, but its pretty clear that he’s not happy.

“Did you sleep with y/n?”

Jeno didn’t know how to react, his eyes widened and for a while, he had nothing to say. But in the end, he knew this was bound to happen. If not you, it would be him spilling the information to his brother.

He didn’t need to say anything, and he knew the silence is more than enough for Jisung to conclude.

“She really likes you, you know? I just–” Jisung paused, “--I just don’t know why you’d sleep with her when you don’t like her back. You know she likes you, hyung. What, is this like an ego thing? She’s y/n, hyung. You know she’s different.” Jisung honestly just sounded confused and tired. He’s not angry, not upset, he comes off like he just wanted proper answers from his brother.

“Dude, just get out.” Jeno dismissed, which pissed off his younger brother more.

“Oh fuck you. You can’t even hold a conversation with your own brother? And if only it’s not y/n, I wouldn’t even waste my time. But it’s her. You know her,”

Jeno took a deep breath. “I like her too, Jisung. No, fuck, scratch that. I fucking love her.”

For a minute, it was silence. Jisung then took the initiative to talk,

“Talk to mom, hyung.”

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Jeno was sixteen, when he realized that he likes the way you smile at him.

He saw you run down the stairs and straight to the kitchen. You were at his brother’s room, for a sleepover with his brother and Chenle. He was lounging on the couch, and he didn’t bother to turn on the lights. He likes to lay in here at night, cuddling with his cat, Bongsik. He can’t let the cat into his room because of his allergies, so he just settled on the couch.

Because Bongsik was alerted of your presence, the cat follows you to the kitchen. Jeno, of course, followed in pursuit. He can still remember the cute expression you had when you discovered Bongsik on the table.

He smiles at you, struggling to get chips from the cabinet. Naturally, he grabbed it for you. You had asked if Bongsik was new, and he answered yes.

“Yep, a rescue. Mom brought it home the other day. Jisung freaked,” He chuckles as he looks at the cat, snuggling in his chest.

He can see you almost begging with your eyes, wanting to pet the cat. So he let you. Surprisingly, Bongsik, who’s usually grumpy, purrs as soon as your hands come in contact with it.

You were so careful, and Jeno almost wants to chuckle at your meek attempt at staring at him.

A slight smile on your face was something Jeno noticed, from a close distance. He surely did not expect you to be this soft and angelic, but he thought to himself, that your smile is something he’d like to get used to.

Jeno was eighteen when he made his first mistake.

He had invited his friends over at his house. He had made some really cool friends, and he even got this girl he’s been trying to get with to tag along. Jeno feels nervous, of course, he wants to impress them.

Besides Jaemin, Haechan and Renjun, he also invites some people from the basketball team he’s trying to get into, and some girls that are part of the circle. And of course, the girl he had liked, Eunmi.

His friends encouraged him to make a move tonight, and for some dumb reason, he thought it would be romantic to bring out wine. So he went to the kitchen to do so, but got surprised when a soft voice called his name.

It was you. Your shy demeanor, and your avoiding gaze startles him but he can’t help but smile. You’re so cute.

He clears that with whatever you were gonna tell him, make it quick because someone’s waiting for him. But as soon as you open your mouth to say the next words,

“I like you. Very much.”

He feels like his feet are frozen. His heart starts to race and if only he wasn’t leaning on the counter behind him, he would definitely stumble. His grip on the wine glass tightens. He doesn’t know what to do.

The next words just came out, and he instantly regrets it.

“...I-I’m just being nice.. I have to be nice. You’re my brother’s best friend.” In a split second before Eumi interrupts the conversation, he can clearly see the pain in your eyes. The initial shock of the fact that he’s rejecting you was prominent in your face and he just wanted to take every word back at that point.

But before he could even utter another word, Eunmi decided to take over. You then quickly walked out, but before you can turn around, he sees a teardrop, and by then, he’s sure he’s made a mistake. He can’t believe he just broke your innocent heart.

Eunmi is no longer in his mind, his friends no longer his priority, the entirety of the night, you plagued his mind. He wanted to run after you, and apologize. But what exactly is it for? It’s not like he was rude. He was calm, but still, you were visibly upset.

Jeno blames himself, until the night ends, he shoots his brother a message to ask you if you were okay. He needs to know.

Jeno was twenty when he breaks his own heart for the first time.

He can’t believe his eyes. He doesn’t know which emotion he should feel, the anger that slowly builds up upon seeing you entering the party with Jungwoo, or the adoration to seeing you looking that good in your mini dress.

You had walked in with the confidence he failed to notice before, with Jungwoo’s arm around your waist. He clenches his fist, but soon he gets caught in his own mind when his girlfriend of two weeks leans over to him.

The train of thought he had was still there, however, he was forced to pretend like everything’s fine. Although he can’t look at you in the eye, when he can certainly feel your gaze time to time.

What he can’t absolutely avoid tho, is his eyes on Jungwoo’s touches. Since when did you let a random man touch you like that?

More so, a man like Jungwoo? Much older than you, and he doesn’t remember Jungwoo and you ever be in the same vicinity as each other. Why are you so comfortable with him already?

Green doesn’t suit Jeno. So he tries to focus on the girl beside him. But mentally, he counts the shots that was given to you. Too many, and if the situation is different, he’d take those shots and shove it up Jungwoo’s ass.

But as soon as you stood up, his quick reaction was to follow you.

All he can think about is you getting out of here.

“Find Chenle. Now.” He groaned, despite his anger, he doesn’t like yelling at you.

What you did next was unexpectable.

You had tried to kiss him.

His reflex was to push you, and that, he did. His demeanor changes, and everything that falls from his lips after that was a blur to him.

One thing’s clear, the look in your eyes. You were so defeated, but Jeno didn’t let it affect him. He was blinded by anger, and the fact that you’re so drunk that you’d kiss just anyone. Not to mention a man that has a girl! What has gotten into you?

“Are you that desperate? I rejected you already, didn’t I? I will never look at you different than being my brother’s best friend, y/n! So stop this fucking delusion while I’m being nice.” Lies after lies after lies.

He was completely out of his mind when he said that to you.

And when you cried in front of him, he felt his own heart break. Every tear is equivalent to a stab right through his chest.

Right there and then, he wanted to beg for your forgiveness. Say that everything wasn’t true, that he doesn’t think you were desperate. Hell, he would kiss you back if you’d let him.

But all those hope was thrown away when you left. Because what’s left was this strange, terrifying feeling that somehow, this was the last straw for you.

And Jeno despises himself for causing you pain, over and over. He curses at his own self for being so coward.

“Hey Jen, how are you?” His mom’s voice was enthusiastic as ever. Even over the phone, he can hear the smile in her face.

He thinks he should be honest. “Not good,”

“Aw, is it your practice? Don’t worry darling, just a few more months and you’ll be graduating!” He smiles at his mother’s sweet voice of anticipation, he can just imagine the tiny claps she does.

“No, mom. I—“ He closes his eyes in frustration. “I have to talk to you about something,”

“What is it? Is it your brother? About y/n?” Her tone changes, now sounding concerned.

Jeno curses mentally, because of how quick his mom mentioned you.

“It’s about y/n,” he says lowly, testing the waters for a bit.

He hears a deep sigh, “I called her a week ago and she’s been real distant from me, Jen. Anything I should know?”

“Mom,” He almost whines. He just wants to spill it out.

“What? You’re worrying me. Is our y/n okay? God, she’s been out of control, hasn’t she?” The concern is now intensified, and Jeno thinks he should just spit it out. But his tongue can’t seem to say it.

“She.. she’s fine.”

“Good gracious, okay. I thought something had happened. Her mother must be frowning at me from heaven right now. Still remember your promise to your Auntie, right?”

Bingo. The very reason as to why he can’t just say it. Why he can’t just be with you already. It’s because of this god forsaken promise that he made.

“You need to be a big brother to her, treat her as your sister. She has nothing but us now, Jeno.”

He almost cries, he just wanted to yell. He felt as though he failed his mother, your mother and you. He shouldn’t be feeling this emotion towards you. This harbored feelings are forbidden. He can’t. He just… can’t.

He lets his eyes get warmer, gripping in his phone harshly. He takes a huge, deep breath.

“Mom, I love her. So much. I- I can’t… I can’t keep on hurting her and pretending that I only look at her as a sister.” He pleads, finally letting it known. There’s no turning back.

Silence was deafening on the other line. Every millisecond, he can feel his heartbeat race.

“Jeno, we’ve talked about this.”

“I love her, mom. I do, I really do.” He cries, for the first time in a long time.

“She’s your sis—“

“She’s not! God, she’s your best friend’s daughter, I know that but I’m not her older brother. I’m a person that truly loves her. I have loved her for so many years but I keep on h—“

“Jeno, hush, darling. I understand… but she’s our family. If all these feelings get old and you decide you don’t love her anymore, who will she turn to? Not us, darling because at the end of the day, we’re your family. I’m just… worried about her, she has… no one to turn to if this all blows up.” His mother’s response, despite the rise of emotion, was still calm and soft.

“I won’t, mom. Please, just let me love her. I can’t keep hurting her, mom, It kills me.” Jeno never begged this much. Just for you. His only exception.

His mother pauses, way too long, before finally breathing out again. “Okay, darling. I trust you. But please. I beg you, not to hurt her. We’re all that she’s got.”

Jeno whips his head up, baffled as to how easy she agreed to him. A little to no persuasion, and it didn’t even take ten minutes.

“What? J-just like that?” Jeno questions in disbelief. Years of yearning, years of hurting you, when Jeno could just do this early on?

His mom, regardless of the moment, managed to let out a breathy chuckle.

“Darling, you’ve proven yourself over the years. Me and your Dad had an inkling that you have a special admiration for Y/n ever since before. Its just unfortunate that her mother had to pass, and had asked us a favor— more to you, to look after Y/N like your own sibling. And when you agreed, I felt like it’s just how it goes. But years of seeing you pretend to not care about her, and seeing you struggle to cope with your feelings, I knew then that you were serious.”

“Me and your Dad realized that our eldest, really, has grown up to be a man. And seeing you still have the same passion and the same feelings towards her until now, says that you’d stop at nothing at this point. So what’s the use of preventing you?”

And with that, Jeno was free. Free of constraint, of guilt and control over his own will and feelings.

Like a baby, Jeno falls asleep with tears in his eyes. In complete satisfaction on how things went. Now, his only problem is getting to you, and begging for your forgiveness. Wishing by then, you’d still want him.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Jeno didn’t waste his time. As soon as the morning comes, he’s fast on his feet. He wants to talk to you, he wants to clear everything up. He had tried to text and call, but he quickly realized you blocked his number.

He called his brother next, but Jisung also has not heard from you since yesterday.

It wasn’t until 5pm that he couldn’t find you, he started to worry. None of your friends know where you are, and you’re not in your apartment either.

He contacted every possible soul that could even have a hint on where you’re at, but none of them knows.

He feels like he’s running out of time, running out of momentum.

And just as soon as he was about to call for help, he received a message.

[5:32pm] unknown number

she’s at dreamscape hill. she likes going there to ease her mind. take care of her, please. -k

He didn’t care to ask who it was, he just prayed that whoever sent him this message was right.

And off to dreamscape hill, Jeno goes.

He can barely catch his breath when he arrived, heart pounding at his chest. It was past sundown when he found you sitting at the bench, on top of the hill.

It’s you. He’s sure it’s you. To the curves of your shoulder, to the waves of your hair. Call it creepy, but he spent years looking at your back, from afar, forbidden to even glance at you when you’re close. So yes, he’s a hundred percent sure that it’s you.

He’s a few feet behind you, when he noticed the earphones you had on. Probably why you didn’t hear the ruffling of the twigs and leaves as he walked closer.

And in divine timing, you look back at your shoulder, looking straight at Jeno’s eyes, as if it made sense why he’s here.

Slowly, you pull the earphones out.

“What’re you doing here?” You ask, almost a whisper. But the city in front of you gave him enough silence to hear every breath you take.

“Finding you,” he answers. He struggles to keep his words straight, the thumping in his chest causing him to stutter.

You blink thrice, seems like you’re still processing Jeno’s answer.

“Why?”

Jeno took a couple step, and finally he sat beside you. he looked forward at the cityscape. He took note of your body language, it seems to him that you’re starting to get nervous.

“To tell you I’m sorry. I’m sorry it took this long for me to find you. I’m sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry for making you cry. I’m sorry that I wasted years, and I’m so sorry I lied.” Jeno says every word with great diction, in perfect pace and clear voice. He wants you to understand every word that he says.

He hears you let out a huff, as if in disbelief. His heart went even more faster, scared on what you might say.

He’s never anticipated an answer like this before. He never had to grip at his own knees in nervousness before. He can’t even look at your expression.

“I think we’re past that, Jeno.”

This is what he’s afraid of. He might be too late, he might fuck this up. Nevertheless, he’ll never regret trying.

“I know that I’m years too late but you need to understand—“

“I don’t need to understand nothing. What I need is to just live my life, love my life. I have spent years yearning for you, let me love myself too. I think I’ve loved you since I met you, Jeno. I just mistook it for curiosity. Everyone else isn’t you, and turns out that’s a huge problem for me.” Jeno can hear you smile, and when he finally let himself take a look, he softens.

You’re smiling like you used to smile. You’re smiling like you again.

“That’s because we thought we could alter fate, and tell me I’m batshit crazy for believing but I can prove to you that we’re just… soulmates, y/n. Y-you’re meant for me as much as I am for you.” These are some words Jeno never thought he would use. The things you make him do.

You chuckle again, while shaking your head. Do you find it ridiculous? Do you think Jeno is joking? Are you finding all of these insufferable? God, Jeno wished he could read you.

“We are not soulmates, Jeno. This is not some divine intervention, and shit, this is not fate. I wanted this. I knit the threads of my destiny until it spelled your name. I love you intentionally, Jeno. It’s not the stars and the heavens that brought us together. I did.”

Jeno was speechless. He could not utter a single word, he felt like he had no right to dictate you about what you feel. He’s ashamed, because what you said was right. You made him feel this, because of your desire for him, you made him fall. And damn it, he fell hard.

“It’s like you filled my lungs with flowers, although they are pretty, it made it hard for me to breathe. That's how much I wanted you.”

“Y/n, I will apologize to you forever if you wanted me to. Just… just please, let me have my chance.” Jeno begged like he never did before. He let his emotions out, and all for you. Because you deserve it. You deserve the real him.

Slowly, he felt your hand on his clenched fist, instantly letting it loose. He took the opportunity to lace your fingers together. It felt right, like your hand always belonged intertwined with his.

“If I took this chance with you, that would be the knife that would slit my own fucking throat, Jeno. And you know what’s funny? I’d probably apologize for bleeding in your shirt.”

“So let me have this time for myself, Jeno. And just like the old saying, time will tell. And if we find each other without even looking, then that’s when I’ll believe in that fate you were talking about.”

As your grip in his hand loosens, he felt like this was the first and last time he’ll get to hold your hand. He wanted to be selfish and not let you go, but he knows he’d be cruel to do that.

So he didn’t move. “I’ll see you around,” you say.

“I’ll find you,” he whispered, to you, to himself, and to whoever who’s listening. Let it be the heavens, or the devil in hell. He whispered to anybody, because he knows he’ll do it, and he wants everyone to stand witness to this promise.

“Sure you will,”

And in every step you made, as your body slowly walks away, you took his heart with you. Its yours, anyway. He’ll just have to find you to have it back.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

“Lee Jeno! Lee Jeno! Lee Jeno!”

The screams from the bleachers never seemed to falter, only getting louder each time.

The band is on full blast, people running around down the court as soon as the last whistle of the game went off.

Jeno had won the much awaited game against the SKU, with a whopping 73 points under his belt, making it the first time in his school’s history to earn that many points, by a single player, in one game.

This just solidified his reputation, being named the greatest player that had ever stepped foot on this campus.

And to make this game, even more legendary than it already is, it’s the last game of the season before Jeno graduates. So he’s literally going out with a bang with this one.

His teammates celebrated the win, begging Jeno to go the the victory party. For the first time, Jeno refused to attend a victory party. Much more, a victory he made happen.

He walked past the girls that’s lining up to take a picture with him, immediately walking straight back to the lockers.

He shoots a text at Renjun, informing his friend that he’ll head home, instead of attending the party.

He was about to turn to his locker, when his name was called by a familiar voice.

Jeno looked back, and to his disappointment, it’s Jennie.

“Why haven’t you answered my calls? It’s been months, Jeno! You can’t just..” Jennie couldn’t even finish her sentence, stomping her feet like a toddler.

Yes. It has been months since he blocked every girl that he had ever slept with.

Three months, thirteen days, and twenty-one hours, to be exact.

“My team’s gonna be here soon. You don’t want me to embarrass you in front of them, trust me.” Jeno’s threat was casual, but he’s serious enough for Jennie to take the hint.

“B-but, Jen, it's me.” Jennie’s voice turns softer, making Jeno cringe at the tone. She then tried to touch his shoulder, but Jeno was quick to dodge.

“Exactly. You’re you, Jennie. And I don’t like you.”

The girl was aghast, to say the least. Her mouth wide open in disbelief. Taking Jeno’s advice, albeit with offense, she stomps her way out of the lockers.

Just as he said, his teammates started flocking in, with his coach holding the trophy. He lost count on how many pats in the back he received after the game. The repetitive congratulatory messages are starting to grow old.

“Are you really not coming? You’re literally the man of the year, dude. Everybody’s gonna be looking for you!” Sungchan, one of his teammates says.

“Nope,” Jeno says with a pop.

“Come on, this’ll probably the last victory party you’ll ever have!” Yangyang joins in, but Jeno just shrugged his shoulders.

“Sorry, dude. I got a thesis paper due in two days.”

A plethora of complains, grunts and ‘what?!’s came pouring in after his statement, but Jeno stood his ground.

Jeno was serious. He needs to study for his thesis paper, and pass it on time. His professor expects him to match his academics to his basketball career, and he doesn’t want to disappoint.

Before the commotion gets even more wild, and before Jeno gets kidnapped into attending the party, he swiftly bids farewell to his coach, the only person that mattered to him. His coach just shook his head and gave him a nod, before letting him go.

“You did well, kid.”

Jeno heads through the parking lot. He had been stopped by students every ten seconds therefore his usual 4 minute walk to his car ended up being 30 minutes.

He starts up the engine, but before taking off, he checks some of his messages.

[8:43pm] dong(yuck!): congratulations, lebron ‘lee jeno’ james! the game was so cool dude u look good throwing balls lol btw im staying at my girls hauz. also ur welcome. also enjoy. lolz

[8:54pm] jaemjaem: dude that game!!! ur on FIRE my guy!! pls pls apply for nba so i can watch courtside with kanye west :D im out rn and i wont be home til tmrw. ur welcome ;)

[8:59] jisung: great game couldve been better tho… anyways… wrap it b4 u tap it!!!

[9:02pm] injunnie <3: game was lit. didnt understand shit abt the game but u did good. im spending the night @ my moms so u better make it worth it, lee jeno.

Jeno’s breath hitches, and before he could even question the hints his roommates are giving him, another ping notifies his phone.

[9:04pm] unknown number: hi. im at urs. can we talk?

Jeno knows not to speed, but tonight, he swears his tires didn’t even touch the concrete. He is flying off the highway.

With sweaty palms, he enters the security code to his door. Hands shaking, he opens it up and with the sight of a woman’s shoes on his doorstep, he takes a deep breath.

“I hope you don’t mind, it was Jaemin’s idea to let me in without telling you. Uh, so if you’re not—“

“Y/n,” he gulps as he takes in your figure, standing in the middle of his kitchen.

“Yeah.. it’s me.” You smile tightly, shrugging your shoulders.

Even though Jeno was ready to leap and drown you in his embrace, he stood his ground. He’s still not sure why you’re here, and until you say so, he’s not moving. The last thing he wants to do is push your boundaries.

“What’re— what are you—” He feels stupid. Stuttering like a five year old in front of you.

“Figured we could talk. Jisung and Chenle got sick of me moping around so they made me—“

“I hope you’re not being forced to talk to me. I told you, I’ll wait. No matter how long,” The sincerity laced in his voice was prominent.

“I promise you, I went here in my own will. Two idiots just talked some sense into me, and Jisung told me about the promise you made my mom years ago.”

Then there was silence. But this time, it wasn’t deafening. It was peaceful. Its as if you two are finding serenity in each others presence and just the way you stare at each other already says the words your mouth couldn’t speak.

But Jeno cut it short. “Does this mean..”

“I want to try, Jeno. I want to experience this with you. Slowly, at our own pace. I want to go on dates. Carnivals. Watch netflix. Everything, with you.” There's a tinge of shyness in your voice, and Jeno just wants you to scream it out. You don’t need to shy away from him.

“Everything, with me. At your own pace. I’ll accept everything you can offer,” He assured your worried mind.

You nod gently. “I want to feel loved without feeling like I’m begging for it,”

Jeno shakes his head vigorously, “No, baby, you’ll never beg to be loved, ever again. I swear in my grave.” He takes one step closer.

“I’ll trust you and risk getting my heart broken again, but I really hope you won’t.”

One more step closer “I will never. Baby, you’re it for me. I didn’t know it before, but I should’ve known it was you, because no one else made sense.”

You nod again, biting your lip. “When I visited my mom, I told her about you,”

“Yeah?” Jeno asks, in a sweet tone, taking another step closer.

You smiled at him. “I bet she would trust you too,”

“I will not break her trust. Not again,”

He watches carefully as you raise your hand to cup his cheeks, his reaction was to lean into your touch. He takes your initiative as a signal, but still takes his movement slowly.

You gulp, looking up at him. “Can you love me now?”

“Oh, baby. I have loved you since forever. It just took me time to realize it.”

And then, as you tiptoe to match his height, he feels your lips on him and he swears that you taste like heaven.

Jeno didn’t remember how long you talked that night, but somewhere in the midst of your laughter and smiles, he decided that he would destroy the world for you.

Because you might not know it, but in every universe, in every lifetime, and in every story, Jeno has always been completely, madly, and inevitably yours.

A/N: From the bottom of my heart, I apologize for making you guys wait this long. I promise, it just happened to be my worst year ever :'(( but at least she's here! I just wish this could at least be worth it. Tune in for the next part (I promise, it would NOT take this long lmao)

taglist: @cutiepeas @legbouk @hyuckissed @bockhyun @hibernatinghamster @shookyungsoo @sundamariis @sharkipoonis @ohmykwonsoonyoung @carelessshootanonymous @glamourizz

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I HATE THE NEW HERO

PT 1 - What teacher assigns a group project for a poster?!

Pt 1 (You're here) - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10

Classes were always boring for you, don't get you wrong - you love the subjects, you just hate how it's being taught.

To sum it up, here is your lessons for today, Friday.

Literature, Methods Math, Biology, Ancient History, Engineering and finally Chemistry.

It's a lot and frankly you're regretting choosing half of those subjects. Even more so because of a certain billionaire playboy's ward. Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.

You're pretty sure he's a massive fanboy of Aranea, the new spider-themed hero of Gotham who you detest with your very being.

The costume is ugly, they're too optimistic - it's Gotham, who on Earth is happy in Gotham? Most of all however, they're a two-faced bitch. You should know, after all you are them.

It's not that you hate yourself and your nightlife, just that you need to look unconnected to them at all costs. There can't be any correlation between you and your persona. You use a voice modulator while on patrol and missions, you wear a wig while in your costume and any defining features are covered by either the costume or makeup.

So, whenever Aranea is brought up you take the chance to make fun of it. The comments aren't anything horrible, mean sure.

"Ew, they're more of a roach than a spider.."

"They're actually ugly enough to be the next Joker"

"I hope they humiliate themself and everyone sees how gross they really are."

But not horrible.

Despite this Timothy seems to have thought you were the devil himself in the form of a teenager. Glares were thrown at you, false reports were made to the principal's office, public shaming on Chitter and more.

You won't lie and say it gets to you sometimes but at the same time he's being a manchild. You can't expect everyone to like who you like.

You're snapped out of your thoughts by a paper being slammed onto the desk. Your head snaps up and you glare at the person.

Timothy may as well be the devil with the way he's staring at you now, a sneer paints his pale features. His nose held high enough that you swore he was about to snort on you.

You grit your teeth and look down at the paper he slammed on your desk. You're actually going to scream and cry right now.

Scratch that, you're actually going to jump out of the window and hope to perish.

You hate Chemistry. You hate this school. You hate Gotham. You hate Timothy Jackson Drake.

You pray he'll think you're incompetent and not bother with actually working together for this group project.

A group project on Titration! Who even does a group project outside of school for that?

You look around, hoping there will be others in the group but because your luck is so thin it might snap everyone else already were in groups of 3s. Meaning Timothy and you would just be a duo.

Instead of doing what you wished you instead sighed and grabbed your pencil, probing at Timothy's hand until it stopped holding the paper against the desk.

"A poster on bases and acids in titration? Why does this need to be a two-person job?!" You huff out. Timothy's features turn more hate filled, kinda petty to hate someone for different tastes Timothy...

"Because lazy people like you won't do the work otherwise!"

"I'm not lazy! Fine, fuck you! I'll do it myself!"

"No way! I need the marks - plus you'll do it wrong!"

you take a deep breath, trying desperately to not snap your pencil in half.

"... Fine. We'll do it at my place then once school lets out. No way am I going to your place where I'm sure you'll set your family on me." You respond calmly, still glaring up at him.

After a moment Timothy nods.

Your shoulders slump in relief.

"I'll meet you at the front gate then."

"Fine. But if you're late I'm doing the project on my own." With that Timothy walks away. You feel a migraine coming on - seriously, what is wrong with him? There wasn't even a proper time set!

Some people think that Damian kid is the rudest - those people clearly haven't been on the bad, petty side of Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.

[archivesofthevoid]

Would you mind if I request kissing headcanons for Rolan, Astarion, Gale, Wyll, and Halsin with gender neutral s/o?

It's currently 4 am as I'm writing this and pulling this all out of a magic hat (aka my brain) so HERE WE GO!!

Rolan: personally I do not know that much about him yet!!! Though I'm going to try based off the vibes of what I've seen from him. So I apologize here if it's ooc!! But I think his kisses would be very.. sophisticated? Like okay- they're so loving and soft. Light, too. Sometimes it feels like he's trying to keep them professional and away from prying eyes. HOWEVER there's some times when he's a bit more vulnerable and he holds you for a moment longer than he should. You both don't often get a chance alone together but when you do, he's grabbing you by your cheeks in the most gentle way he can muster and kissing you like it's his life support. Which sometimes, it kind of is.

Astarion: oh boy. See this guy? His kisses can vary. At first they were rough and seemed to be fueled purely with carnal desire. However as time goes on and the two of you become more entrapped with one another, you notice he's become softer. More delicate. He likes the kiss to last and for it to linger on your lips after it's over. Other days when he's feeling down and vulnerable because of everything going on (specifically with Cazador) - those moments where his head gets to him and he's scared he's going to lose you or get taken back?? He kisses you so desperately. He'll cling to you and press into your lips. It's full of despair, desire, and need. Belonging. He needs that reassurance that you're here and that you're real. That you'll stay. Please don't ever go, he needs you so bad even if he sucks at showing it.

Gale: at first his kisses were unsure. With the whole loyalty to Mystra thing he's got conditioned into his brain - he felt like he was betraying her. Though as time went on he realized he actually loved you. Whatever he felt with Mystra he realized wasn't genuine. Well at least not on Mystra's end. But with you, it's different. He knows you love him and care for him. You don't see him as some prize to flaunt off to others for power. So after awhile, his kisses become sickeningly sweet. Sometimes they're rushed if you guys are quick to set out on the road again. Other times he will let them linger. Or sometimes he'll give you multiple kisses in one go which leaves the both of you giggling at the end. He's such a hopeless romantic that once he actually has you the way you want him, he's completely whipped for you. He's the type of man who loves with his whole being like it's breathing.

Wyll: he's actually such a big sweetie that it definitely shows in his kisses :(( /pos!! They're never long and don't often linger. Very light and sweet like warm sugar. Sometimes he doesn't even kiss you on the lips. His go to places most of the time is on your wrist, your knuckles, your forehead or your cheek. He really loves to grab your hand and press a kiss into it while smiling at you. His eyes hold so much warmth in them that you could feel like you're drowning if you're not careful. He's so caring and gentle. He's the type to cover you head to toe in tiny little kisses if you'd let him. Sure, kisses on the lips are nice but he wants to cherish every part of you he can.

Halsin: another man who worships you and the ground you walk on. Most of his kisses are on your forehead, cheek, or shoulders. He tends to your wounds first out of everyone in the party and spends the most time on you. Even if you're all healed up, he's still there - telling you how strong you are for standing your ground with such a violent battle. He leaves kisses in his wake wherever he can. His kiss to your lips though? They're so brutal. It's like his carnal beastly urges come out to play when he kisses your lips. Sometimes, much like Astarion, he uses his teeth. He'll nip at your lip and plead for you to just let him devour your mouth with his own. He doesn't often give these types of kisses because quite frankly he holds himself back. If you ask though he'd be more than willing to kiss you like that more often.

[prince-liest]

Yo, I'm writing a pre canon fic in which young fanboy Vox gets assigned as Alastor's assistant by Lilith, any tips for characterising him?

I think you have a lot of room for leeway and playing around since you're working with pre-canon, but the main points that I tend to at least personally keep around as a scaffold for writing Vox are:

He's got a Charisma modifier of, like, +4. This doesn't mean he's always suave - in fact, he's pretty pathetic around Alastor in particular! But he knows how to put on a performance that appeals to his intended audience, whether that be a customer base whose trust he's winning over, or a fellow Vee that he's trying to wrangle into behaving. He switches between ridiculous showmanship and collected CEO, and this works for him despite both personas being rife with overcompensation.

Every single one of the Vees including Vox thinks they're the only normal, reasonably-behaving person in the room, it's wild.

He's smart, he's capable, he's manipulative. He's good at knowing what people want and how to leverage that to sell them those things. The general population thinks he's #goals thanks to the image he puts forth.

He's a piece of shit that has no qualms with Valentino's behavior with Angel Dust, Velvette selling date rape drugs, or abusing his own hypnosis ability to manipulate people into buying his products (which include spyware literally advertised to voyeurs). This is part of the fun of this character!!

I think he has a lot of very fun physicality to him (as do most of the Hazbin Hotel characters), and I really recommend re-watching some of his scenes to get the hang of how he moves and interacts with people physically because you'd be surprised at how much that can add to characterization even in a non-visual format like writing.

...I also genuinely think he's kind of a horny bastard, to whatever extent and rating your story could even use that, but that's me extrapolating from his behavior around both Alastor and Valentino. It's just a fun cherry on top of the "low impulse control around Alastor" thing, because he's got so much going for him on the intelligence front that it's really funny to me when he tangibly switches to thinking with his dick.

And, of course, on the subject of Alastor in particular:

He's obsessive, and Alastor makes all of his impulse control go out the window. I started using the "Vox's One-sided Psychosexual Obsession with Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)" tag for a reason, and it's that I think it's in fact really funny how much evidence we get in canon that Vox doesn't just hate Alastor and want to dominate him, he'd also probably roll right over into the affectionately wheedling persona he uses with Valentino if Alastor suggested he'd take it well.

We don't just see Vox wanting Alastor dead, we also see Alastor telling us that Vox first asked him to join him; the torn-in-half photo of them standing together; and Vox pretty much popping a boner over Alastor getting wrecked by Adam, nevermind how manically he jumps around to get a word in before Alastor even shows his face during Stayed Gone. Even his little "Fu-uu-uuuuuck!" at the end of the song is like 50% actual despair and 50% :pleading: emoji. He wants Alastor, obviously, and I think a lot of the anger that he's projecting at Alastor in canon is specifically anger at being rejected, which is frantically covering up the fact that he is still desperately, embarrassingly into the radio deer. If Alastor won't join him, Vox has to beat him.

Anyway, I love this funky little TV. This was by no means a comprehensive guide or anything like that, but I hope it helped share at least some of my personal thoughts on writing him!

[nctstar]

1.

chapter 1 | the calling card

You were still panting like mad when you reached out, grabbing desperately at the denim of his ripped jeans. “Don’t go,” you whispered. “Please. There’s still something we need to do together.”

pairing: taeyong x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

genre: mystery-thriller/sci-fi, angst, romance

warnings: sexual references (nothing too graphic)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. 

a/n: i wrote this a looooong time ago, and honestly, i didn't even wanna post it bc it's not that good tbh. but it's like on the verge of being good, yknow? like, there's something there that can be worked with. and also there's not enough taeyong fics on this platform, like me and @starillusion13 are the only ones writing them :(

Tangled mess of bodies, skin to skin, your own hair tickling your bare back. You were breathing onto someone, another human being. Their touches felt like sparks of fire on your skin, and their lips like marks over your face, your neck, your collarbone, as if trying to help you remember. Help you not forget. In the dark, you could make out nothing but the outline of a toned body, the glint of a necklace shaped like a…what seemed like an animal of some sort. You both climaxed, and he was out and on his way in seconds. You were still panting like mad when you reached out, grabbing desperately at the denim of his ripped jeans. “Don’t go,” you whispered. “Please. There’s still something we need to do together.”

Your eyes bolted awake at the relentless drone of your alarm, breaking you out of the dream. The first few seconds rendered you confused, speechless, before it slowly dawned over you that you were awake now and dreaming before. Without thinking, you rubbed your arms. You could still feel him on you, feel his breath, his body, your heart still pounding with the same vigour, body still aching as if it had actually happened.

The question was, who?

The embarrassment set in after that, wondering why you would have a dream like that in the first place. Heat flushed your face as you recalled it choppily, trying not to think about it too much but simultaneously curious. It could’ve been a regular dream about someone your subconscious brain had the hots for…but…

Something stopped your train of thought.

“There’s still something we need to do together.”

You could’ve sworn the feeling of urgency, of desperation, was so real that it felt like something you had gone through yesterday. Even if the mystery hot guy was just a figment of your imagination, there was something you were forgetting to do. Something that was very important. Beyond the regular realms of importance, even.

Something that was a matter of life or death.

You shook your head as the thought even crossed your mind. This was stupid. Making decisions based on how you felt in your dreams was stupid. It was clear that all you needed was to relax and get a boyfriend.

You could’ve gone on with your day then, hopped into the shower, made breakfast, scrolled through your phone for hours before work, but of course, the dream was relentless.

The same necklace as the one your mystery man was wearing, the one you saw as he was on top of you, was right on your bedside table.

∞

“Hello?”

“Hey! I just, need a favour.” You turned the steering wheel, frowning, trying to figure out where you were supposed to be going.

Your coworker was silent on the other line, but before you could add anything, she finally spoke. “Need your shift covered?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry to let you know on such short notice, but something came up. It really did. You know me, I would never do this if it wasn’t urgent.”

She sighed on the other line, and you held your breath, praying she would agree.

“Fine.” She gruffed. “But only because you’re so nice. But you better be here in the afternoon to cover mine. 1pm, got it?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll be done by then.”

“Okay.”

“Wait!” You almost forgot the most important thing, and in your head you could picture your coworker’s finger over the end call button, her patience wearing thin.

“What?”

“Do you know anyone with the initials T.L.?”

This time the silence stretched on for a while, but you could tell she was thinking. “I could be wrong, but I think he’s the music guy that lives on the end of the road where you live. His name started with T for sure, his last name was Lee. I went there once for a party, but I got super hammered and my girlfriend took me home, so I’m not 100% on it.”

“Thank you!” Relief washed over you, and you wondered why. She didn’t even know his name, and there was a very large chance she was wrong. But it felt like the dream was still controlling your emotions, and now, your every move.

“Well, I don’t care, but,” she muttered the next thing so quietly you could’ve missed it. “stay safe. It’s kind of a dodgy place.”

“Will do. Thanks.” Hitting end call, you took a quick glance over at the passenger seat, as if needing to check that the necklace was still there. You knew exactly which house your coworker was talking about, having driven past it a number of times. It was rundown and quiet except for the times it wasn’t, which was some nights all night, when whoever owned the house decided to throw ragers. For some reason, that kind of person didn’t seem to match the man in your dream, but there was a weird feeling in your chest that made you confident that he lived there. And as you drove towards the house, the dilapidated fence in full view, the feeling grew stronger and stronger until it was all you could feel.

Your legs seemed to move on their own accord as you reached the door, not noticing anything else around you. Three sharp knocks on the door and you retreated your hand, waiting for a response.

You heard the lock unclick. For some reason in those milliseconds between that sound and the door opening, you decided to hold your breath, as if needing to brace for impact for whatever would happen next.

You were right.

The man who opened the door would’ve taken your breath away anyway. As he looked at you, his eyes sharp and raging like a dragon’s, you almost forgot why you were even standing at his front door with a necklace of a dog in your hand. His body was lean, slender, just like the body in your dream, and your stomach did backflips at the thought of that again, much to your dismay.

Your eyes then fell onto what shocked you back into reality. Those jeans, ripped, frayed, hanging low around his small hips. You were sure they were the same ones. The ones you had grabbed in your dream in pure desperation as he was walking away from you, begging him to stay, to listen.

“Don’t go, please.”

“Are you gonna stand there all day checking me out?”

His voice snapped your eyes back onto his face, and instinctively, to his bare neck.

“Right, um,” you took a second to come to your senses, bringing your right hand higher, as if reminding your brain what you came here to do. “The necklace.”

“What?”

You mentally slapped yourself. Can’t even form a full sentence?

“I have your necklace. I think this is yours. It says T.L. on the back, and I assumed, well, my friend, I think-“

“Why would you have my necklace?” When he said you, he scanned you up and down, and you suddenly felt very exposed, and very stupid. Flustered, you tried to continue.

“I…don’t really know?” You gave him a dumb smile, which he was not impressed by, judging by his unchanged expression. He looked at you, sighed, and went to close the door.

“Wait-“

You were met with a slam.

∞

“And that’s all? You just drove away after that?”

“Yeah.” you bit your fingers, to which your coworker reacted by slapping your hands away.

She looked puzzled. “But I don’t understand. He didn’t even ask to look at the necklace. Or ask where you found it. And he wasn’t wearing a necklace, right? So it’s safe to say he noticed that his one necklace was missing.”

“Honestly, I think he was judging me.”

“Judging you? How so?”

You sighed, bending over the counter to rub incessantly at the stubborn spots. “It was like he was thinking, ‘as if you’d ever have a chance with me’.”

“Wait, wait, slow down. Why would your brain immediately go to that?”

You hadn’t told her about the dream, just telling her that you had found the necklace on the street. Something in you knew it was crazy, the dream, and then the necklace on the nightstand, and you were still trying to figure out what it all meant.

“Well, he’s a player, right? That’s what you said. So, other than someone potentially finding his dropped necklace on the street, how else could someone have acquired said necklace?”

Your coworker’s look of confusion didn’t last long as the realisation fell across her features. “Ohhh. Well, first of all, he shouldn’t think of himself as incapable of losing a necklace on the street. And secondly,” she paused, watching you rub the counter to death, gritting your teeth, “you’re such a catch.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

She zoned out for a second, watching the spot on the counter, before shaking her head and grabbing her bag off the tall countertop seats. “I better get going, then. Have fun.”

You made a grumbly noise in response as she walked away, finally giving up on the stubborn spot and deciding to place a pot plant on top to cover it up. Looking around and noticing all the customers seated, dining, and relatively satisfied, you felt relaxed enough to lean onto the back benchtop. The lunchtime rush was over, it seemed.

You were grabbing a chair to bring it back for yourself when the bell on the door jittered, causing you to roll your eyes. Moment of peace over, it seemed. Before you turned, you tried to rid the annoyed expression off your face, replacing it with your friendly customer service one.

“Hi, how are y-“ It was as if someone had punched you in the gut, the way air rushed out of your lungs, threatening to topple you over like an unstable Jenga tower. In front of you stood your mystery man, his eyes just as serious as this morning. Behind him was a woman, looking about your age, dressed in a black crop top and tiger print miniskirt, giant hoops dangling against her tight black curls. She smacked her gum, smiling fakely as she looked you up and down.

“Hey, can we get a table?”

You gulped, suddenly feeling very out of place. “Yep. Right this way.”

Even as you walked turned away from them, you could’ve sworn you could feel their eyes burning your back.

“Thanks.” said the woman, flashing another fake smile so big you could see the gum across her teeth. She shuffled into one side while he sat on the other, dragging a black leather bag along the seat with him. You noticed her eyeing that bag hungrily, as if she was a lion and it contained raw meat or something.

“Can I get you two anything to start?”

The woman leaned over dramatically, swishing the curls away from her face and resting her mile-long nails on your forearm. “I’ll have a coke, dear. And he’ll have the same thing. God knows he can’t keep a drink down, am I right, Tae?” She laughed so hard at this, and your eyes flicked to the man from this morning, who was staring at her expressionless.

You didn’t waste a second walking over to the kitchen, your instincts quick to remove you from the most awkward situation you had probably been in in a long time. Your thoughts ran wild, no matter how hard you tried to suppress them. You thought about your dream, the necklace, the urgency of whatever it was you needed to do. Why did it feel like you were getting a second chance?

Tae?

Walking over, carrying the cokes on a tray, you decided to try again. “Here you go, your co-“

“I just don’t understand why you want it so bad?”

“Baby, I just want to listen to your tracks!”

“You’ve heard them! Why do you need them so badly? You don’t even have a phone or computer to listen to them yourself. It’s just weird.”

“What is it, Taeyong? You just don’t trust me? Is that it?” The woman was fuming, you could tell, and she stood up, throwing one of the napkins on the floor.

Taeyong. Taeyong Lee.

“You know what, I just think you’re being very stupid right now, Alyssa.”

The woman, now identified as Alyssa, let out an angry grunt before leaving, almost knocking you in the process. She was close, but you were quick to move out of her way, saving yourself.

You wished you could’ve done the same thing just seconds later.

“Oh my god!” You watched in horror as the morbidly dark drink stained Taeyong’s shirt, seeping into the fabric. “I’m so sorry!”

He said nothing in return, accepting your napkin as you watched him closely. He sighed, his mind obviously somewhere else with the way he gently brushed the stain.

“I’m so-“

“Don’t apologise twice. I heard you the first time.” Hearing him address you so bluntly shocked you, as if your brain had accepted the fact that someone like him would never even acknowledge your presence. He had made it seem like that though, when he had practically slammed the door in your face. Your mind focusing on that again felt unnecessary, and you tried to shake the outlines of his body, his eyes boring into you, the way his fingers wrapped around the doorframe out of your memory.

“You’re the girl who came to see me about my necklace, right?” You almost jumped out of your skin as your brain processed his words, hands shaking as you tilted the now empty glass upright on the tray. “Uh, yeah, that was me.” The way the words flew out of your mouth surprised you, as if it was rehearsed and familiar.

“Where did you find it?” It was a simple question, a reasonable one, yet something in you protested not to tell him. Ignoring that feeling, you replied, looking into his eyes, “On the street.”

“What? It can’t be.”

“__.” Your coworker’s voice drifted over your shoulder, and you spun your head around to see her standing behind you, visibly concerned. “What’s going on? You alright?”

The sudden tenderness in her voice was disconcerting, because it was definitely not how she usually was. You felt weird, like this was all a weird dream that your consciousness was just floating through, and you wondered when you would snap out of this dizzy, floaty feeling in your limbs.

“Uh,” Taeyong’s eyes were shifting between you and your coworker, confused at your lack of response. “She accidentally spilt these…well…” his voice suddenly quietened, and he looked down, as if he was trying to remember what actually happened.

Looking straight at you, he finished, “It was Alyssa, another customer’s fault. She bumped into her and the drinks spilt on me, and she’s trying to clean it up now. It’s fine.”

“__?” Your coworker asked for a second time, as if trying to check is that true?

“Yeah.” Your voice was shaky, overwhelmed. “I, uh, this woman bumped into me. But I should’ve been more careful. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I was just asking. Well, you can,” she glanced at the wet napkins now stained with coke and back up at Taeyong with a somewhat desolate gaze, “you can continue. I was just checking if there was a problem.”

“No problem,” you looked into her eyes and forced a smile. She quickened her pace as she furthered from you and Taeyong, her shoes tapping on the linoleum floor. The embarrassment finally began to set in, and you wished you could disappear. You wished Taeyong wasn’t here – no, scratch that. You wished you hadn’t woken up this morning and tried to return his necklace. You wished you hadn’t come into work late and met him here. If you had come in early, you wouldn’t have seen him, and all this would never have happened. You wouldn’t be shaking as you cleaned up coke with wet paper towels that were now disintegrating between your fingers, wondering why you were so nervous.

There was something between the two of you – some peculiar energy that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You had thought it was just you, that it was just the dream – but you knew Taeyong was staring at you intensely, boring holes into your skull, as if willing you to look up at him and meet your gaze. Your stomach was churning painfully, the remnants of your morning iced coffee uncomfortably swirling around, and your heartbeat felt erratic, like it was running away from you.

Did you like him? Was he attractive? Was that why you were melting like putty in his presence? You thought of your dream, and blood rushed to your cheeks shamelessly as soon as the images flashed through your brain, as if your body was responding. But it didn’t make any sense - you had never met him before. You didn’t even know his name until 2 minutes ago. Why would you dream about someone you’d never seen before?

The sound of the fabric on the seat next to you snapped you out of the babel of thoughts in your head immediately, and you registered what was happening.

Taeyong Lee was now squatting in front of you, looking down, his straight locks shrouding his eyes from your view. His legs were long, almost langly, and his knees were wandering dangerously close to yours.

“Let me help.”

“Oh no, no. It’s totally fine.” You said weakly, but he had already started picking up tiny shards of glass, and you watched, feeling even more embarrassed. Out of instinct, you looked up, and sure enough, half of the customers were looking over at the two of you on the floor. Your coworker was nowhere to be found.

“No seriously, you’ll get me in trouble.” You had no idea why you said that, where the sudden confidence came from, but it made him stop and stare directly at you. They were the same fiery eyes from this morning, but they were more unfocused now, like he was thinking about something else, and he had to force his attention back to you with every passing second. You stared back, slightly mesmerised, and decided to continue to prevent some impending awkward silence. “I mean, this is my job and all. Glass, it’s uh, dangerous to customers, you know?”

Ladies and gentlemen, introducing the world’s worst conversationalist.

He chuckled, and it’s like your body had a visceral reaction, almost jumping in surprise. “Fine, Miss safety. I’ll get out of your way.” His voice was light and airy now, like this was a movie and the director had just said cut and the actor was easing out of character. For a moment, you felt like the pieces were falling into place, like everything was going as it should be.

Taeyong stood up, brushed his hands on his jeans, and towered over you. You looked up. The sun was beaming through the window, casing his head in a bright glow and obscuring most of his face from your view. You could see the pieces of his pin-straight hair brushing his forehead and the bridge of his nose, and your heart panged with a short-lived nostalgia.

“Bring the necklace to my place when you finish. We need to talk.”

[codfanficedits]

One fucking mistake - Part Eight.

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!Reader - She/her pronouns being used

Summary: Simon lost you after making a mistake on a mission.

Wordcount: 2125 | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: cussing, swearing, grieving, angst with no comfort, conversation, mentioning of memoryloss

A/N: Part eight! I had a lot of trouble starting this part. I'm a fulltime student and my classes have been kicking my ass, and I really don't want to be THAT person, but the next part might take a lil while, I'm sorry :(

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ AO3 Link

244 days.

You finally can remember it all. How Simon begged you to come with him on this mission, something he could’ve done by himself easily, but he tried to sweettalk you, bribe you, just anything so he wouldn’t have to go alone.

And you fell for it. How could you not? After all, he promised you he’d do the dishes, and you hated doing the dishes.

You remember Simon double checking your gear, softly tugging on the bulletproof vest to make sure that it was safe and secure. He always made sure you were safe and secure, no matter what happened, Simon had made it clear that you were his number one priority. You, and you alone.

The moment of eye contact that follows after always makes your heart flutter, the little lines next to his eyes when his lips tug to a smile, it is enough to make your stomach do a million summersaults. The moment you smile, and the little apples of your cheeks start to rise, he brushes his knuckles against the sensitive skin on your face. The callouses on his knuckles was something that you always enjoyed feeling, a little routine before a mission. Something you always held dear.

It didn’t matter that he was wearing his mask on the chopper flight to the area you had to scout. You could see in his eyes how much he was smiling every time you added something on the list of dishes, the fine lines around his eyes, the sparkle in his eyes.

A gasp. “I’ll let you even wash the food dish of the cat.”

“Lovie, we don’t have a cat.” His voice sounds amused.

“Nuh uh, I’ve been feeding the strays that live just outside the base.” You protest.

“Fine, fine, fine.” It isn’t even a real protest, Simon would do anything to make you happy.

“AND.” Your voice sounds happy, as if you just got the best idea ever known to man. “You have to wear an apron.”

“An apron?”

“Yeah, I still have a pink one.”

“Fine.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah, but I’m wearing nothing underneath it.” Simon snickers.

“Deal!”

“And, you can only look but you can’t touch.” He adds.

“But that’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, lovie.”

Life indeed wasn’t fair.

Because the next thing you remember is a white flash, ringing in your ears and a lot of stumbling. A lot of pain when you tumbled down the stairs. You can remember Simon calling for you, screaming your name and you want to react, but your body doesn't allow you to.

Another loud noise, and you realise that a grenade must’ve gone off when you’re getting covered by debris.

It is dark when you wake up again, the sensation of someone tugging on your ankles is waking you up, your body hurts and you’re disorientated, your eyes flutter as you try to stay awake, as you try to grasp what has happened. The men towering over you speak a language you don’t understand, and frankly, there is nothing you understand at the moment.

Who are you? And why are you here?

One of the men pulls you up, his hands under your armpits as he drags you away, your skin is grey from the dust and debris and as your eyes finally focus you can see the fear in the eyes of the people around you.

You desperately try to remember, your brain knows there is something hidden inside, something that would explain all of it, but you can’t. You can’t seem to find the key to the door inside of you that hold all the information you need.

Your dog tags get caught on a pole of metal sticking out of the rubble, and you groan a little when it cuts off your airflow, even if it is for a brief moment. Neither you or the man carrying you realise how important those dog tags are. But of you are just focussed on getting you out of there.

Another groan when the ground gets more uneven, sharp pain being unbearable with every bump. You try so, so, so hard to stay away, but your body tries to protect you against the pain, and before you know it your eyes start to roll back, and it gets dark again.

When you wake up again, you’re in a bed, stripped of your belongings, but a variety of bandages around your limbs, a woman speaks to you in a hushed tone, but you can’t understand the language they’re speaking. A soft groan leaves your lips as you try to speak, but your throat is dry and everything hurts.

Later, you learn that you’re taken in by the local villagers, who have been tormented by the war for the longest time. The same war you and Simon participated in, the same war where you were convinced you were on the right side, only to learn that there are only losers when it comes to war.

As the universe continues your injuries start to heal, and while you still don’t speak a word of their language, the villagers are nice to you, almost as if caring for you is just what they need to take their mind of the running war in their area. You know something is missing, you can’t remember your name, age, your life, Simon. Nothing. Not an ounce of recognition when they show you your torn up uniform. Not an ounce of recognition when you hold up a mirror in front of your face.

Not an ounce of recognition when the local men are shouting against each other, and while you can’t make out what they’re saying, you know it is about you, the way they point and glare, the way they call you a fucking filthy Brit. The other half of the group of men is a lot more quiet, they plead, and you can only imagine it is for your life, yet you do not fear for it.

What is a life worth if you can’t remember it?

But they let you live, and while you’re not sure why, you end up being thankful for it. At night you always end up dreaming about the same things, it is almost like clockwork, either you dream about yourself, walking around a maze, which seems to be without end, a skull mask in the middle of the maze. You always, always wake up whenever you find the mask.

The other dreams is about a faceless man, tugging on the bulletproof vest you wore when you were found, his knuckles brushing against the apples of your cheeks. He tries to shield you before the white flash goes off, but your dreams never reveal his face to you.

One time they dragged you back to the area where they had found you, a black chopper had landed nearby and you could make out that they wanted to know if the men rummaging the area seemed familiar to you.

But they didn’t. Four tall men, and while they wore the same uniform as you, none of them rang a bell inside your mind. You shook your head, implying you didn’t know them, no matter the matching uniforms. Not even the heartbroken screams from the masked man could crack open your memories.

Looking back, when the dreams started to come, you knew you recognized the mask one of them was wearing, it was the exact same as you would always find in the maze, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember the face beneath it.

Slowly, but surely small glimpses of your life started to seep into your mind again, droplets of memories coming back. The smell of oatmeal brought a snippet of your childhood back, the memories of it being breakfast, and secretly feeding a spoonful to the dog.

With every little dot you could connect to your former, came an explanation to the people around you, with a lot of gestures, and some drawing, you could get your point across.

The smell of lavender brought you back to the house of your grandma, the strong scent always lingered in her house, and if you pressed your eyes shut and let the sun settle down on your skin, you could go back to that time.

While you peel off the skin of an orange you’re hit with a new memory, your breath hitching in your throat as your mind slowly makes the memory clear. You’re peeling an orange, a large hand holding on to your thigh as you peel the fruit. “Thanks lovie.” The gruff voice sounds so clear when you remember it, as if he is in the room with you and you know that it is someone important to you, as your body warmed up when you remember his voice.

But you just remember his voice, and not his name.

It would frustrate the living shit out of you, knowing that there is so much more memories hidden away in you, and you just can’t seem to remember them. You know that there is so much more to you, yet you’re unable to discover your own secrets.

When you’re stargazing, late at night, a new memory pops up, the masked man laying next to you in the grass, while the both of you look up at the stars, in the corner of your eye you can see him takes his mask off, the balaclava being pulled up to his nose, before he leans over and presses a kiss on your lips.

The realisation dawns on you, and while you can’t remember his name, it is clear that he is important for you, that you are important to him, and a cold feeling comes over you when you realise you let him slip between your fingers just because you didn’t recognize him. A knot in your chest as you try to remember who he is, who you are, why you were wearing the uniform. Panic taking over when your mind can’t answer your questions. The knot in your chest spreads through your body and soon you find yourself unable to breathe. Short, desperate burst in which you try to suck in as many air as you can.

Deep breath in through your mouth, exhaling out your nose.

Fuck.

You remember, you remember walking in on him having a panic attack, you remember kneeling down to him, telling him to take a deep breathe in through his mouth, exhaling out his nose. You remember. You remember walking in on Simon.

Simon.

A loud sob leaves your mouth and your hand claws at your chest as you remember. You remember all the kisses, the three squeezes on your shoulder, or your bicep when he couldn’t tell you he loved you but still wanted you to know, you remember all the late evenings and lazy mornings.

Oh you finally remember.

Your loud sobs wake up the people who had cared for you, they’re worried and you can’t yet explain if the tears are from happiness or agony. But it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter because you finally remember. You could be described as hysterical when you point to your old uniform, back to yourself, trying to tell them that you DO remember, that you DO know who you are.

And never had you imagined how easy it would be to go back to your old life. You’d learn that you would be considered missing and killed in action for more than eight months now.

Eight months. You had missed 244 days of Simon’s life, and he had missed those days in yours.

The ambassy was kind enough to listen to your story, your fingerprints confirming your identity. K.I.A flashing the screen when they pull up your information. And you want nothing more than to go home, to feel safe in his embrace again. You’re not allowed to call him, since the two of you aren’t married he isn’t your legal contact person, and you have to wait, but you’ve waited 244 days, how much more will a few more hours hurt?

God, how you have missed him, with the returning memories, the feeling of longing for him also came back, and right now the only thing you wanted in life was to hold him again, to feel him again, to be his again.

The rest of the trip goes by fast, your mind can barely cope with the returned memories, let alone process what is happening when they put you back on a plane to your base, but you can feel the excitement, the love, oh you can feel it all.

Just like you can feel the dread seep into your bones when you see him, holding another woman’s hand.

[frracturedjaw]

I NEED TO READ MORE BILLY LENZ FROM YOU I AM ON MY KNEES

I really don't care if it's smut or fluff I just love him !!!!!

warning(s): 🍋, description of s.x acts - reader is gender neutral, no described anatomy aside from Billy’s.

a/n: no plot because that’s not what you’re here for anyways 🥴 the ending kind of sucks but it’s been sitting in drafts for so long it’s not getting better than this. also thank u for the kind ask

🔞i check the notes. minors don’t read & don’t interact.

your hand raises up, away from his body again. he keeps arching up off the bed, chasing your grip. you can see him watching the string of saliva between your fingertips and his cock. greedy billy.

“f-f-f, please!” he stammers with a huff, dropping back down against the mattress. he buries his face in his arms and grips his hair, cock pulsing against his belly. he looks pitiful. he looks beautiful.

“not until you start following the rules.” you reply flatly, pretending to inspect your fingernails. he writhes incessantly beside you.

“mmhgh…” it’s as close to a growl as he’ll get in this state. you indulge him by stroking his thigh, warm hand gliding over shifting muscle and dark hair.

“i know,” you condescend. he’s peeking up at you past his eyelashes, caught somewhere between petulance and discomfort. “let’s try again.”

he stills almost immediately, arms dropping down beside his head. the noise he makes when you touch him is downright obscene. but, to his credit, his hips don’t move. even when you tighten the circle of your fingers around the base of his cock and lean forward to lave your tongue over the tip, he’s stone-still. if you peek up at him, you can see the strain in his jaw. your hot breath fans across his skin and he swallows visibly.

“p-f… f…” a request tangles in his mouth. you sit back up to meet his pleading eyes with a languid smile.

“what is it, billy?” you feel him throb in your hand as you say his name.

“fas-faster, pleas-se… sss…” he wheezes out. you can see the fluttering beat of his heart in his chest.

“only if you can behave,” you warn, swiping up and down with your thumb. “do you think you can do that?”

his hair falls across his face as he vigorously nods, and he makes no move to correct it. you find yourself enjoying how disheveled he looks.

“if you say so, baby.”

billy moans long and loud when your lips press down over the head of his cock. his hands curl against the bedsheets, searching blindly for something to grip. desperately trying to keep himself from grabbing handfuls of your hair and pushing your throat down around his cock, all warm and wet and tight and perfect. just the thought makes him harder, if it’s even possible. it feels like all the blood in his body has gone to his dick, leaving his brain to short-circuit.

“y-yess, yes-s… fffUck…! you’resof-fucking-g-good, p-pleas-se don’tdon’tdon’t st-top…” he can’t help but kick, curl his leg, point his toes. his hands cover his face on instinct. he’s so restless that his skin may as well be leaping off his body.

billy’s reaction only fuels your confidence. you work with excruciating patience. hands braced on his body, you sink your mouth down the length of his cock, using your tongue to follow along his broad veins. you let saliva drip past your lower lip and slide down his skin. you suck hard as you pull back up, already tasting his precum. feeling him twitch against your tongue makes your insides coil deliciously. you slip the tip of your tongue across the slit of his dick, making him writhe and squeal. you satiate him with a few quick bobs of your head.

“n-n, yes-s… yesyesyes, ple-please, more, i wannaget-t sso…!” he mewls, wiping drool from his own mouth. you release his dick with a lewd pop, grinning up at his flushed face.

“what was that?”

“n-nhh… nothing-ing.” he pants, still keeping an iron grip on the bedsheets. your raised eyebrow is enough incentive for him to continue. “m-w… wannagetinside y-ou… p-please…”

“oh, really?” you smirk. “i’m not convinced you really want it that badly.”

“pr… r…” he’s interrupted as you take his cock in your fist while he speaks. “prettYPLEASE…! pl-lease! prettyprettyplease? b-billy’s been s’good-d for you…”

“hmm,” you tilt your head in thought. “i suppose. alright, then.”

you lean away from him for a moment to grab the lube, and you can feel his shameless stare as you squeeze a liberal amount onto your palm. most of it is for him. he shudders when you smear the cool fluid over his cock, eliciting another lovely moan. you can feel him practically vibrating in excitement. you settle on one knee over him, spreading the remainder of the lube onto your hole. he’s panting, and you can see his tongue swipe across his teeth as you work two fingers into yourself. his cock twitches incessantly against his stomach. an impatient groan slips out of him. “if you’re going to act like that, i can get up and find something in the toy drawer.”

“n-no-! pleaseplease, m’sorry, billy’s s-sorry, so so s—“ you don’t give him the opportunity to finish.

“i don’t care that you’re sorry. open your mouth.” he does so almost instantly, and you push his briefs between his teeth. his eyes narrow with a muffled giggle. you tease yourself with the tip of his dick, making him breathe heavily through his nose. you can tell he’s on the edge of breaking. you’ve been teasing him for almost an hour and he’s been remarkably well-behaved, given how strict you’ve kept the rules. he’s more than earned his reward.

the noise that comes from billy is guttural. you half expect him to cum right then and there as you take the first inch or so. for all the grief you give him for misbehaving, you’ve never had a dick as good as his. you feel him pulsing as you slide down to meet his hips. he’s warm and his skin is soft and you decide that once, just once, you’d like to let him take everything he wants.

you lean down to lay against his chest, yanking the underwear from his mouth and tossing it aside. your face fits perfectly against his neck as you bring your lips close to his ear.

“go on, billy. fuck me.”

he doesn’t hesitate, locking his arms around your waist. you press yourself against him as he grinds into you as deep as he can go. you can feel him searching for that spot, the one that makes you squeal without thinking. you keen when he finds it, your legs twining around his.

billy’s pace is brutal. he’s always insistent that you cum before him, but with how close you’ve gotten him tonight, he won’t wait long.

his cock slides in and out of you deliciously, thick enough to make you gasp when he bottoms out inside you. he fucks fast and hard, a steady stream of filth spilling from his lips as he does. you reach down to touch yourself, and feel his smile against your skin.

“m-my sweetlittlepiggy can’t-t even cont-control-l… n-need billy’s cock sososo fuckin’ ba-ad… n-eedy little slut, y-you are… m… my… billy’s f-fuckk toy…!”

your only response is a breathy ‘mhm’ as he rails into you, hitting that spot again and again. your skin lights up when he bites your neck, sucking a hickey into your skin. he thrusts harder. your hand moves faster. the coil tightens, then bursts.

he spills inside you as your hole squeezes down on him and you cum with a shared sigh. he releases from your neck, still rocking his hips into you. you know he’d stay like this for hours if you let him, his cum slowly oozing out in thick dribbles and sliding down your legs. messy billy.

[wendynerdwrites]

Pretty cringe on Bioware's part

Okay, so I do not work for Bioware, don't have connections, and what I'm writing is based only on some background and experience in social media and online marketing. I HAVE NO INSIDER KNOWLEDGE AND CLAIM NONE.

But... It VERY MUCH LOOKS TO ME that this new name change is a plot to try and circumvent SEO on the new Dragon Age release being about how delayed the game is and all the layoffs and the severance lawsuits and shit.

And yeah, maybe this'll seem obvious to some of you, but I kind of just want to word vomit: (and this is a further musing on a TWITTER thread I made earlier. Sorry I just have to get this manic-episode cynicism out)

Why else at the supposed 11th hour would you change the game title to one that is just, so bad for so many reasons?

(It should be obvious that I'm editorializing here, but I like to cover my ass more these days)

So yeah, reasons why I think this name change is so bad and nonsensical it could only be made for desperate reasons:

Okay, so because I like to overthink stupid shit like video game name changes and have become quite Dragon Age fixated over the years, I was going over this bullshit too much.

Like, I tried to explain things to myself because sometimes I want a break from feeling cynical even with shit like this.

So I read this and mulled it over:

"BioWare general manager Gary McKay explains that while Solas is “still very much a part of the story of Dragon Age: The Veilguard,” the team wanted a title that reflected a “really deep and compelling group of companions.” --- Kat Bailey for Gameinfomer.com

Okay, fine, well, the last game is called "Dragon Age: Inquisition" and not "Dragon Age: Corypheus" or "Dragon Age: Elder One." And you know, stuff like "Leliana's Song" focuses on, you know, Leliana."

But you what, me? That doesn't hold up.

For one thing, Leliana's Song is a DLC. No one is going to mistake a main series Dragon Age release as being not about an ensemble cast of characters and just being about Solas because of a naming convention in the DLC. Especially given how common that can be in RPG's anyway.

First thing you often learn about Dragon Age as a series is that it's story focused RPG with strong cast of supporting characters and a lot of lore. Granted, that may not be the case for EVERYONE depending on when they or how they got acquainted for the series; but that's how it's commonly characterized.

In one game, Solas was given far more significance plot and character wise than Corypheus had in two.

Corypheus has good points. He's got a backstory that is couched comfortably by the lore and significant to the story. He's got motivation - he's pissed about there not being Gods and Tevinter falling, so he's trying to become a God now to restore the world he wants. He's got one of the most FUCKING BALLER VILLAIN REVEALS:

He also works very well thematically. He's a good symbol of corruption and the results of hubris and tyranny when Thedas is being torn apart by it's various authorities and their abuses of power. Civil War in Orlais. Templars have broken from the Chantry, the mages from the Templars, and they're all at war. From the first game we know that this is what is left of the peace and safety won by your Warden and their people. And we know a few reasons why. In Dragon Age II, we know how that happened and SO MANY MORE reasons why. THERE'S CORRUPTION IN THE WARDENS AND WTF IS EVEN HAPPENING IN WEISSHAUPT??? OR THE DEEP ROADS??? We add in an Orlesian Civil War and also, boom! Whoops! THE GUY WHO CAUSED ALL THOSE BLIGHTS WE'VE DIED IN IS BACK AND HE WANTS TO RIP THE SKY APART! OOH LOOK HE JUST DID!

He's the anthropomorphic personification of all of that.

But, uh, even with fabulous voice acting, Corypheus is not much of a character in his own right. He is more of a device for both plot and theme than, like, a person. As far as more humanizing antagonists, we get that from Samson, Calpernia, and Alexius than Corypheus.

Corypheus wants to restore Tevinter to the Empire he wishes to be God of. He's pissed at there being no Gods. So now he wants to rule over everything (while also destroying it.) "THIS CORRUPT WORLD NEEDS TO BE MADE ANEW BLAH BLAH BLAH I'M AN RPG BIG BAD"

And that's fine with me. Never had a problem with Corypheus turning into Darkspawn Skeletor.

Corypheus is a dick who wants to be God. But he works as a device to save the world from and lead to lore revelations and shit.

I don't know if Corypheus ever had anyone he cared about. I don't know what he like(d?) to eat. He has no goals that don't serve glorifying himself and being a tyrant. I don't know if he hates Thedas as anything other than standing in the way of the Tevinter he can be god-emperor of. I don't know what he really thinks of anything in the world of Thedas other than "inferior, kill it." He doesn't have complex motivations or thoughts on the world we're playing in. We don't know if any of his thoughts or perceptions have changed over the course of the thousands of years he's lived. If there's anything he enjoys. We don't know what kind of personalities he's drawn to. What he actually enjoyed about the world he came from.

We get all of that shit and more from Solas. Even if you don't like him, don't play with him much, he has a distinct personality. And his significance to the lore of the world actually reveals a lot more than Corypheus's. Solas CREATED THE FUCKING VEIL. ALSO THE ELVEN LEGENDS ARE ALL FUCKED UP. FLEMETH IS ACTUALLY HIS ANCIENT DIVINE PLATONIC DOMMY MOMMY FROM BACK IN THE DAY WHEN THEY WERE BOTH LITERAL GODS! DID WE MENTION HE CREATED THE VEIL?! BECAUSE THE DALISH ARE FUCKING WRONG ABOUT EVERYTHING! AND TEVINTER DIDN'T DESTROY ARLATHAN! AND WE'RE ALSO GOING TO LEARN SOME SHIT ABOUT THE FORGOTTEN ONES! ALSO DID WE MENTION HOW THE VEIL CAME TO BE????

All this through this Elven God of Bad Decisions:

Also, yes, Solas has got major thematic importance but I feel like that's a whole other rant and this is getting too long.

Point is: Solas is, flat out, more significant to the world all of these characters inhabit than Corypy-tits. The literal fabric of their plain of existence is woven by him. The entire way magic has worked and been handled, (something that is extremely significant character-wise for at least a third of this game's cast) is because of him and his history. There was a century between the fourth and fifth Blights. And, you know, the veil he created played a part in their origins.

Even putting aside that legacy characters like Varric, Cullen, and Leliana all have personal history. Solas is why Circles exist/ed. Those Magisters who started the Blight did so by fucking with his creation. He is why elves age and live as a diaspora.

And that's just what we know him to be responsible for. What about those hints about the Forgotten Ones? Exactly how did his rebellion work? What is his plan for the other Evanuris and will it work? [(No.)] What will that reveal about what the others are/were capable of? And what exactly happened between them and the Titans?

Look, I'd go on, but I don't want to go on too much longer like the Solas girlie I totally am. Point is: Solas's backstory alone has had significant ramifications for everyone in Thedas. And the ways he's affected their lives varies between races, generations, magical ability, etc. And that's through creation of the Veil alone.

And we know a shit ton about who Solas is as a person.

You don't need to be a Solas pro, Solas-anti, neutral, or Solas-mancer for this to be true.

So yeah, I would say he's "very much a part of the story." But also, in a way that informs and contributes to the characterization of the ensemble cast.

Inquisition's antagonist was no Fen'Harel. And you're not going to subtract from your ensemble, but rather enhance them (if you care at all about writing them well) by having a focus on him.

Now, I totally think the idea that the final big antagonist will be the Evanuris or someone else lurking behind the veil has merit. But Solas will ultimately be that catalyst.

"Okay, but maybe Bioware doesn't see it that way. Maybe they saw some social media complaints about too much Solas focus and did a hasty rebrand."

Well, for one, that complaint has been around for years now. And it's valid. The problem isn't a lot of Solas, it's that we got so little else. The promotion is bad, not the character or their role in the story. But if that's really it, why now? Why are they only changing the name now?

Now, okay, but Inquisition was still called Inquisition.... This game is about the Veil Guard. It's called Veil Guard.

Cool, but once again, then why hold onto Dreadwolf for so long? Why focus so much on Solas? Why haven't we gotten any glimpses of companions?

And, um, if this is really what you want, shouldn't the title be... better?

Inquisition is a good, solid, and communicative title. While the Inquisition of Thedas is not exactly the Spanish One, there is enough association there to give a general idea. Origins had a group of dumbass misfit fugitives drawn together to save the world. II was similar except they were mercs who get drawn into shit against their will and unwittingly. Inquisition: okay, so this time they'll probably be more of an official, religious-quasi military organization. It'll probably be controversial.

You can be a complete noob to Dragon Age and figure that out.

Veil Guard sounds like something last minute they got from Game of Thrones at the last minute. Okay, the Kingsguard are cool. They guard the king. We're stopping the veil from being torn down, so Veil Guard.

Here's the thing: none of the main ASOIAF series is called The Kingsguard, and you don't need to know anything about A Song of Ice and Fire to get it. Everyone knows what the fuck a king is and why he should be guarded. So even if there is a book called "The King's Guard" we'll get it. It's a book about fuckers guarding a king.

This game is about fuckers guarding... a veil....? The veil?

If you're up on your Dragon Age lore and are really into it, yes, you know what that means. If you're a noob or a casual who hasn't given much thought to Dragon Age in, say, a decade, uhh...:

Noobs: "The game is about fuckers guarding... a veil...? The veil???? Is it some sort of artifact, like it has Jesus's face on it? Or if they mean veil between worlds like some Lovecraft shit, is the new Dragon Age a horror game? Are people trying to travel to different worlds and we're trying to stop them? "

Casuals: "Or wait, is this about that dream world thing? That demon place that spits out demons? Didn't we just get done fixing that in the last game??? Wow, real original. Bioware Magic! "

It also just sounds uncool. Inquisition is an imposing title. Dreadwolf is an imposing title. The Veil Guard sounds like a sartorial maintenance product.

You want people to focus on your ensemble cast? SHOW IT! Because as long as all the promo keeps giving us new Solas anyways, it's just weak sauce.

Nah, this has panic move all over it.

Now, I'm trying to spin this optimistically in that I think this means we may actually get the game within this decade. Because I refuse to believe a) "Veil Guard" is the best they got out of a proper round of workshopping and b) That if this was truly about trying to avoid focussing on Solas too much, they'd announce this without a bunch of promo for the rest of the cast to accompanying it.

Bioware: "We wanted people to know the story is just all about solas, but more about our ensemble cast! We wanted this enough to change the name this late in the game!"

Everyone: "ALRIGHT! SHOW US THIS ENSEMBLE!!!"

Bioware:

Nah bitch, that's not what this is about. Bioware needs this to be a hit, and they need a hit soon. But they don't want their long-awaited blockbuster release to be mired in bad press. They don't want the general audience googling their new massive title only to find articles and reddit threads about layoffs, labor disputes, Mary Kirby's departure, the massive delays, the contract non-renewals happening in the midst of severance lawsuits.

BioWare wants to get their title out finally and they want to bury all the bad shit that's been plaguing this project. All the stories about the labor disputes, layoffs, firings, and lawsuits have mentioned the "Dreadwolf" team.

And quite frankly, it's just shitty. It looks bad. It's desperate.

[rigelmejo]

So I like to find older language learning textbooks, or just specific ones. I could make some posts on them if anyone would be interested. I have some weird ones, and then some genuinely useful ones, and rather old ones which are a mix.

Some of my favorites:

German Through Pictures: learn like a child, or like me and my friend in high school translated to each other (with pictures!) when we didn't speak the same language. It is a simple book, but very easy and you WILL learn some basics. Its simple, its a nice idea.

This book is very cheap used, I found it at a library book store sale for 4 dollars.

Read Japanese Kanji Today: there's an older version of this book, equally good. This book is free in a lot of digital libraries (a lot of college libraries have it in ebook form, if you are on an app like Libby or Hoopla it's worth searching). A kanji mnemonic stories book that is not dauntingly huge. Good for beginners to wrap their heads around how to start studying Kanji. Be aware, it doesn't cover much, so don't spend too much time studying it if you're trying to make progress (not like perfectionist me in college who... was too obsessed with memorizing and so I never finished reading this).

https://archive.org/details/jensen-arthur-le-francais-par-la-methode-nature

Le Francais Par Le Methode Nature: I have this book to thank for getting comfortable learning French in French, for getting comfortable reading more, and I love the teaching style. I love textbooks written in The Nature Method, where they teach entirely in the language. The Arthur Jensen books in particular (and a few others of this time period) have 3000+ common words and a good overview of grammar taught, setting you up to transition to regular daily conversations and novel/news reading after The Nature Method textbook. My ideal. I wish desperately for a book like this in chinese or japanese. I've thought for hours about how to add pinyin for hanzi, romaji and hiragana below kanji for japanese, in order to make it still equally comprehensible to start seeing regular chinese and japanese text immediately. Chinese or Japanese would need more pictures for explanation, since there's less cognates. But i really think a similarly designed textbook would be very achievable. But I do not confidently know chinese or japanese grammar enough to try to translate English by The Nature Method into Chinese or Japanese. If someone does, I'd love to talk cost for that kind of translation job. I'd need that base text translation, then I could draw pictures and add pinyin and romaji/hiragana myself... (or also do what one great person did when he wrote a tiny Comprehensible Input japanese site - use emojis).

Anyway. I love these type of books. I wish more existed desperately. There's a French, English, and Italian one. There's also textbooks written with the same "all taught IN the target language" approach - a Greek one called Athenaze, and a Latin one called Lingua Latina.

Be aware because of the age of some of these, some language info is outdated. But for me the sheer VOLUME of nonstop practice reading the language makes up for a few issues of age.

French for Beginners by Charles Duff: I love the way Duff teaches, lots of practice reading immediately. He has a Beginner Spanish textbook I also got, and also love.

Chinese Grammar Self Taught by John Darroch: this book is NOT actually the nature method. I got a hard copy that's really old. Its lovely and has gold lettering on the cover. The book uses an old pronunciation system so its easier to go into this book if you already know how hanzi are pronounced or have an alternative source for that. If you're a nerd like me who Likes seeing the old pronunciation system, the older language features (like le being liao more, like the use of nin instead of ni more often), the print hanzi back then? Its really cool. The grammar lessons are also very easy to read - probably my favorite grammar explanations I've read. The section in the beginning explaining hanzi radicals and the types of hanzi, the sound+meaning type and symbolic type, on its own makes the book worth it. After reading that section, hanzi made so much more sense to me, got easier to remember and learn. I just think its a really neat book. It also has a dictionary of about 2000 hanzi in the back. Which serves as both a good vocabulary list and practice going through a/stroke order dictionary. The grammar book also teaches a decent number of words. A very useful little book.

Its the polar opposite of a chinese textbook I once had that only taught 200 words and made me so mad i donated it and forgot the name of it.

Japanese in Thirty Hours: this book is free on some univerity sites, if you search google itself or another web search. I bought a physical copy for 9 dollars. Its my favorite beginner grammar book for japanese - in particular, because it describes a few grammar points in a way that I found helpful. Also, like the chinese book above, this book pulls its weight! A lot of information in a small book. It has over 1000 words in the back vocabulary section you can study, a TON of grammar explanations and sentence drills to practice, easy to read, and the book's goal is to get you speaking (with the use of a dictionary/looking up key words you need to say) ASAP. It does it's job. The sentences are a bit unnatural, but so is Genki's sentences (like saying watashi wa so much even though in Japanese it wouldn't be explicitly stated so much).

Reading Japanese by Hamoko Ito Jordan, Eleanor Harz, Chaplin: I love learning a language by DOING. So I love this book. It's a bit slow paced for me (but only since I'm not an absolute beginner). It's a great, dense book of 624 pages. You practice reading all hiragana, katakana, 425 kanji, and a ton of example words and kanji. Even though I can read somewhat, the katana section of this book is intense even for me in that it makes me practice reading a TON of katakana words and situations in order to get the learner truly comfortable with encountering the writing system and reading it. There's also a companion grammar book by them, Beginning Japanese. Due to the very general title you'l need to search author names to find these books.

Weird bits: unique romaji system. I was fine with it, since I already knew the pronunciations of everything I saw in this book, from prior study. If you're an absolute beginner though, it would be worth it to learn the regular romaji system and hiragana/katakana romaji sound representations in it before starting this book.

Beginning Chinese Reader by John DeFrancis: note that you can find this cheap used sometimes, and very expensive other times. My copies were around 60 dollars a piece because the books were out of print and rare at the time. There's several books in the series: Beginning Chinese Reader 1 and 2, Intermediate Chinese Reader 1 and 2, and Advanced Chinese Reader. (Pdfs can be found online if you go searching).

The positive: 1200 hanzi are taught, and thousands more words (tons of combininations of the hanzi into many words). The main plus of these books is sheer volume of reading practice. Its TONS of reading practice, thousands of pages.

There's graded readers nowadays which are more entertaining with funner stories, but they are short. My mandarin companion stories were very short, my Sinolingua Books were quite thin, and most of my "beginner" reading in chinese ended up being easier novels in chinese (like tu tu da wang, xiao wang zi, sa ye and simpler written B)) because I just could not find thousands of pages of gradually increasing difficulty graded readers (although Pleco does offer a decent amount of some condensed versions of stories like Legend of the Monkey King, etc).

So yeah, the plus: huge amount of reading material to internalize hanzi and new words, and get really comfortable reading.

The negatives: its old. Old cultural details, old language things that don't all apply anymore, the technology words we have now didnt exist when it was written. And its written so dry and boring, unfortunately. For me, the elements that age it help me get interested in catching those, enough so that i can get myself to read it. But the material itself? Boring (at least in the beginning).

Regardless, I find the concept of these textbooks to be wonderful. I would love to find some modern chinese textbook series that provides over 1000 pages of graded reading, with words repeated at intervals to reinforce memory of them. If you know of any (even with just 400 pages practice reading that gradually teaches more words) please let me know.

Madrigals Magic Key to Spanish: I love this book. I have Madrigal's books for Spanish, French, and German. I read this spanish one over the course of a summer once, it probably helped me get better at reading Spanish. It works excellently in combination with Language Transfer Spanish podcast, and if you like learning materials that teach based on similarities to what you might already know in your native language (grammar similarities, cognates) and clear explanations of language patterns (showing how adjective word endings are sometimes X like -ent in english or french "intelligent") then this book's teaching style will work well for you. And, like many of my favorite books, it teaches a LOT of words.

So! That is a snippet of some of the language books I have. I've got a lot more... I love checking out textbook methods and the variety so I tend to look for them whenever I see used books.

[nokingsonlyfooles]

On the Occasion of Watching an Artist I Respect Spend A Hour Arguing for the Beauty and Societal Value of Conforming to Standards Set By The People In Charge Of These Matters

RE:re:Re:re:CC:Re: My Language of Self-Expression (or lack thereof)

I like when I express something and you understand me. I like when I express myself in a way that you find has additional aesthetic or entertainment value. I like when you notice who I am, and it amuses me when you make guesses based on my appearance and behaviour. It's fun when you guess right!

I DON'T like it when you turn around and try to tell me who I am. I REALLY DON'T like it when you CORRECT something I'm trying to say because I'm not saying it up to the standard you expect from someone who does whatever it is you think I'm doing. Even if that is actually what I'm trying to do. Even if I'm being incoherent and desperately need an edit to be understood, I still don't LIKE that. At least ask me what I'm trying to say and why before you swat me with whatever version of Strunk and White you're using as a ruler.

If you need to rearrange my pieces like Tinker Toys to allow my participation in society, I'm out. And I'm so tired of rearranging myself to suit you and hiding whatever doesn't fit. I still do it, but I'm exhausted.

I don't need to make up all my own words/tropes/styles/colours/musical notes. None of us have time for that. I'll use what's here, mostly. I'll conform for the privilege of existing in a society to that extent! But I won't always use things like you want me to, and I may add a new word or structure here and there - when I need them. Because, frankly, Society, you have spent and still spend a lot of time pretending I don't exist and you're not interested in giving me all I need to be seen and understood.

You can't see all of me from where you are. I put some effort into expressing things I want to express, but I can't give you all of me. Even if I covered my dissected body in words for you to read, that wouldn't account for more than a tiny fraction of who I am as a person - and you're not entitled to flay and expose me that way trying to understand. I'm here, I exist, you should see me (not all of you, but if you exist near me, you should definitely see me), but I need you to respect what I'm willing to share and how I'm willing to share it. Not always accept, not always. (I don't always say things well and I try to improve - I really do!) Just respect. Trust that I'm a real human being who's not out here trying to do damage for fun.

And if it bothers you to see me for some reason - I don't know, maybe I'm trying to access a bathroom while gender-ambiguous, or maybe I'm just in a stained T-shirt and leggings as pants because I have to wear something and it's comfy - that's probably a "you" problem. Not always, just probably. Take a minute and consider how and if you want to express that about yourself.

If we fix every "ugly" thing to suit your tastes, we're going to lose a lot of cool stuff other people are using and enjoying. I like being seen and understood, but if I let you cram me into a box that suits a type and erase me, you won't see me at all.

[sunnydayroleplay]

Hiiii! How are you? Don't hate me, but they had no right to make Ian cuteee- I'm sorry! He's just adorable! I would take him back- That sounds toxic, but ANYHOW. how would Ian react to MC taking him back?

This is the first post I’ve ever gotten about Ian omfg-

I aint gonna yuck your yums, I agree they had no right to make him so adorable. He’s quite cute aha~

Now, let’s write!

Contents Inside: Heavy Emotions (Crying, Anger), Uhhh Ian getting a bunch of speeding tickets most likely, You fucking slap his hoe ass, Cuddle times.

18- DNI, even though this is a relatively SFW post, the game it is based off of is an 18+ community. It is for your own safety, and you interacting not only jeopardizes that, it jeopardizes mine, and the creators of the games. For SFW + 18- safe content, check out my art page instead. @feralhalfnhalfcreamer

———————————————————

Countless missed phone calls, some unopened letters, he was desperate. He was desperate to win you back, or even just a word from you. He didn’t know how you were anymore because of him. All those memories from your guys’ childhood just vanished like that because of him and he hated it. If only he hadn’t went to that bar. If only he hadn’t finished that last drink. Maybe you’d be still together.

Tiresome nights, he still hasn’t gotten over you. And you couldn’t get him out of your head. You find yourself wearing his old shirts when you go to bed. The way his smell lingered in your nose was comforting yet infuriating. You’d sleep in his untouched room, on that same bed you’d talk to him in.

Was this normal? You know “getting over with” is different for everybody, but why is it lasting for so long? Why do you still love him? Why can’t you bring yourself to love someone else after months have passed? Why do you have the sudden urge to call him back and tell him you love him?

You shouldn’t. He cheated on you, regardless if he was drunk or not. He hurt you so badly, you don’t know if he’s only going to do it again. But, you can’t help but to find out. You want to hear his voice again one last time and have it not be his crying.

Your phone was vibrating on your nightstand. You leaned over to check who it was, and sure enough it was Ian. Your heart was racing, should you answer it? Do you want to try at this again? You’ve known him for the longest time, and you know he wouldn’t cheat on you to be a dick. That he wouldn’t hurt you just to hurt you. Maybe he really was sorry. Maybe you should answer it.

Letting out a sigh, you pick up the phone and press ‘accept’. You hear a shocked gasp from the other line.

“Y/N?! I-Is that you? Oh god..please I’m so sorry, I-“

“Come over. We need to talk.”

“Wait wh-“

You hang up and throw your phone across the room: Did you really tell him to come by to what was once both of your homes? And is he going to see that you still kept everything of his intact? Your heart is pounding, your mind is racing, you don’t know what to do or say, but you know that its not gonna be good.

Were you happy about this? Were you really going to let him back into your life after that last few months have been a living hell? So many questions and not enough answers. It felt like you were in your bed panicking for only mere seconds until you heard a knock on your door.

It’s him.

It’s…him.

Practically falling out of your bed, you try to wipe away your tears as you crawl out of your room and towards the front door. Should you open it? Are you really going to do this. Yes, you are. You unlock the door, and slowly open it up.

Standing in the door way was a light brunette haired man, freckles covering his soft face. He had a brown coat on, with a rough pair of jeans. His neck wore that necklace you once matched with.

You looked up at him, tears still streaming down your face. He clenched on his bag strap harder, trying not to do anything rash. Furrowing your eyebrows, you clenched your fists, and brought up a hand to slap him as hard as you could.

Ian immediately let go of his bag and held onto the side of his face that you hit him on.

“Ow!! I.. that was deserved..”

Like a typical day in Autumn, you couldn’t not let out your rain. Tears just falling down from your eyes, you tried your best to keep up your composure, but you couldn’t. Ian let go of his face. It was obvious that he wanted to go inside and hold you in his embrace that he had done so many times before. But he refrained.

You jumped in his arms, holding on for dear life as if he was going too disappear into ash and crumb.

“You’re a fucking dick! I hate you so much! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!!”

You hit him after every emphasis given. Ian didn’t say anything about it. He just wanted to comfort you. His hands ran up and down your spine as he tried to shush you softly. Like he had always done beforehand.

You hated how it felt so nice. How it felt so good the way he treated you in the moment. Eventually he let go off you, and you managed to calm down enough to start a basic conversation.

The two of you talked, you actually talked. After so long, you got to see each other, and it was actually nice. Ian talked about how it went on, and how he was deeply sorry. He went on his knees and practically begged for you to take him back. That he couldn’t live without you.

And to be honest, you knew you couldn’t either. He was one of the only things on your mind since he left. You knew you couldn’t get over him. You lept into his arms again, and held him close. You weren’t crying this time, at least not that much.

He pressed a kiss against your forehead, his hand resting behind your back, playing with your hair.

“I’m sorry Y/N.. I-I know that I-“

“Shut up and just.. stay with me..don’t leave me again..please..”

“You really mean it? You’re not just saying that..?”

“Do you want me to change my mind? I-I’ll be honest.. I couldn’t get over you either..it was hard.. You left me Ian. You left when I needed you most.”

“I won’t leave you again. I-I will always be here, okay? Please, I promise, I-I love you, you’re m-my everything..!”

Should you fall for those sentimental words again? Are you truly ready to start things over? It’s hard to decide, but you have an answer. Yes, you’re ready. Slowly but surely.

“J-Just come inside..”

You finally step aside and let him in, closing the door behind him. He walks over to that same familiar couch that the two of you got off the side of the road in a “rich people” neighborhood.

The two of you managed to calm down enough. Your ear pressed against Ian’s chest. Your breathing almost aligning up with his. He had both his arms wrapped around you. Its been awhile since you had done something like this with him. In general its been awhile since you had done anything with him.

Sure, its going to take a long time to build up trust with him, but at least he’s willing to do anything for it.

After so many nights of crying yourself to sleep, this was the one time in forever where you could sleep happy. Even if it meant getting back with your ex. And happily so.

[braisedhoney]

please tell me about the pigments i would love nothing more than to hear you talk about that one shade of red you like and the process it took too recreate it

... oh, op. you have no idea what you've unleashed.

alright. here we go.

OKAY SO THE RED PIGMENT. pr206. my beloved. my dearest friend. it was an absolute bastard to find because there are so many of these. however many you think there are, there are MORE, and that's only if you don't count the many many scenarios where colors are known to be multi-pigment mixes, usually varying in tone/shade/intensity depending on the brand and manufacturing style. some colors are more consistent than others, but there are situations where a color can be named the same and contain the same pigments and STILL look wildly different depending on the ratio, binder, and paper you use. and that's not accounting for the way the pigment is processed. some pigments (like pv19 for example) can come in so many shades it's frankly kind of ridiculous.

anyway, my quest begins when i am, admittedly, in an edgier phase. i want a blood red, but not specifically because of that—no, i want it because it is THE IDEAL COLOR (to me) for a perfect, warm, slightly muted but still intense shade to add to a muted autumn watercolor palette. and... if you look at my whole theme, you probably know how much i love warm colors. i want to paint mushrooms. i want to dim down some of the brighter greens to make them autumnal. i want the perfect red to put as an undertone.

the search starts in earnest.

the immediate issue is this: reds (and purples and pinks) have horrifically bad lightfastness. not all of them, mind, but many are NOTORIOUS for fading under uv light, which means they will also fade if exposed to sunlight even in passing should it happen often enough. and—in especially bad cases where they're essentially working with dye and not pigment—they can even fade inside your notebook. inside of a drawer.

so not only are we working with an unfortunate pigment base (i'm simplifying here, there's way more nuance to this but shh) but we are working with one that skews heavily toward floral pinks or oranges. the red i'm searching for is warm, but not orange. dries dark but not brown. is transparent, not opaque. that last part is agonizing, because i also desperately do not want a color that will fade on me or generally destabilize, and most of the stable dark red pigments are EARTH pigments like red ochre (pr101) or the like. which, while fascinating because of their historical usage in things like pottery and even cave paintings that last to the modern day, are VERY OPAQUE. this is an issue with my preferred style of watercolor painting specifically, because opaque pigments tend to lift easier off the page and limit layering.

the search continues. pigment after pigment breaks my heart for one reason or another, drying too close to the cooler purpleish-red tint of wine at best. i think i find it in perylene maroon, but the drying shift (the difference between how a color looks wet vs after it dries on the paper) is so extreme that it loses the luminosity AND it's more opaque than most. i languish.

for a while my search turns to creation. i try and mix as many of my single pigment colors as i can into something that vaguely resembles what i'm looking for—so i take quinacridones and mix them with napthols, with nickel azos, with dashes of ultramarines and burnt sienna. everything turns out either just a bit too opaque, just a bit too muddy (that happens with multi-pigment mixtures, and is why so many people swear by single pigment colors. it's personal preference, really, great art can be made either way.)

still, nothing works. failure haunts me. i sit before a pile of used up watercolor paper that is literally covered edge to edge in nothing but similar red squares with various gradients and blooms as evidence of when i tried and failed to convince myself my efforts were close enough. i admit defeat.

in the meantime i shift my focus. i try and appreciate different color palettes and profiles, experimenting with things like fully transparent palettes (personal favroite) to fully opaque ones that function more like gouache. but despite finding appreciation for it, i still think about the damn red that i could never recreate. it kills me.

and then one day, a youtube video. a pigment is being discontinued, and the watercolor community is distressed. this happens a lot, because pigments are actually not always popular because of artists—sometimes beloved colors are put out of production because larger markets like car companies no longer find them popular enough to invest in. this time, the casualty is pr206, aka brown madder, aka quinacridone burnt scarlet.

let me tell you a little about quinacridones. they are genuinely remarkable colors. they have their own cult followings because of how bright and abnormally stable they are under uv light. they're transparent. they're luminous. they come in mostly shades of red and pink and purple, though there are a couple oranges and yellows in there. (there are no quinacridone blues, as far as i'm aware, but the phthalo blues have that category covered.) they also rewet beautifully, so you can put them on your palette and let them dry and not worry about it turning into a useless little rock of color that you can't get any pigment from anymore.

quinacridone magenta (pr122) is probably the most popular of these, the most often used besides maybe quinacridone violet (pv19). a few years prior we suffered the loss of quinacridone gold (po49) and since then people have been On Alert when it comes to losing these colors. i am one of them, because i never got the chance to even see po49 in person, and now the tubes are so stupid expensive that even the student grade versions go for Ridiculously High Prices on ebay, and the professional brands are being hoarded like (ironically) gold by anyone lucky enough to have a tube left over.

but back to our main character. not me, the pigment. pr206. i have legitimately never heard of this one, which to be fair is probably because i try to limit the random colors i fixate on since the hobby can easily get VERY expensive if you aren't careful. but it's a quinacridone, and that catches my eye.

i open the video.

now, i'm sure any artist out there will be familiar with the fact that screens don't display color consistently. it depends on your device, but most can agree that something that looks cooler on one may be warmer on the other, it's just what happens. but i see this color being swatched, and my brain implodes.

it's almost a perfect match.

it could work. it could. years of thinking that same thought have left me bereft and mistrustful of this specific quest marker, but the thought refuses to leave me. probably because the 'discontinued' label flashes like a neon sign.

i resist for about six months, and then i cave. at this point i have genuinely been trying and failing to find this color for upwards of five years. i am desperate, and the color might not be available anymore soon anyway, and apparently i am weak to sales pitches. (note: the color IS now unavailable in some brands, but others bought a decent supply and should have it available for at least a little while, alongside po48 which is quinacridone burnt orange, a favorite of mine and probably one of the only oranges i use regularly. both are discontinued officially, but they'll still be on sale till those supplies run dry.)

the color arrives. i grab my favorite brush. i pull out my stash of paper that i save for special occasions.

it's almost perfect.

i mix it with quinacridone burnt orange.

the result is, i swear, a perfect match for what i have been searching for.

it's warm. it dries dark but not dark enough to look brown. it keeps its luminosity (thank you quinacridones). it's fully transparent (thank you quinacridones). i genuinely feel the urge to weep, but i don't because i am clinging at last to the dredges of my sanity and also salt makes watercolor pigments behave differently and i will not risk this glorious moment. finally, after all these years, bill cipher has a gun i found the goddamn COLOR.

i mix it with warm yellows and with my favorite blues. with the pinks, just to laugh. life is beautiful and i am painting its sunsets, and i do not care if they look ridiculously messy. i have won.

the moral of the story is to never give up. or maybe it's to remember you never actually know everything about even the fields you love the most, because this color totally blindsided me despite being much more common than i expected. or maybe it's that i seriously needed to chill out for a while.

but yes. that is the tale of one (1) of the colors that has taken up residence in my soul. i hope you don't regret asking now lmao.

[stardustshelb]

"Strawberry" Part Three

TW: Language and sexual content

Word count: 7,470

Chapter Seven 

I flipped over my pillow to let the cool side rest against my face. How could I possibly sleep now that I know who Josh really is? I had spent the last two hours spiraling out of control looking up every possible piece of information about him and the band. The weird moments I witnessed from earlier all made sense: The wearing of the sunglasses inside, the Google Voice phone number, the change in his mannerisms when I mentioned a tour. Oh, and I recognized his “assistant” alright. No, instead he’s the lead guitarist and Josh’s twin brother in the band. I didn’t know how I didn’t see it before. And I didn’t know if I was more angry or shocked. I couldn’t totally blame him for not telling me the truth. Then again, why was I so willing to accept that this connection we have is based on lies? I grabbed my phone off of the nightstand to check the time. 1:19 shined directly into my eyes. Riley and the girls will be landing in Nashville in a little over 12 hours. I really needed to get some sleep. I was physically and mentally exhausted, but my thoughts kept circling back to Josh. Do I tell him that I know? Do I pretend that I don't? Do I even contact him at all? 

I got up and found my medicine bag on the bathroom counter. I grabbed my bottle of melatonin and took two pills. I was going to need an extra dose to sleep this madness off. I stared at myself in the mirror wondering how I even got into this situation in the first place. I walked back to my bed to see my phone lit up on the nightstand. I stared at the screen to see Plagiarism’s name across it. 

Plagiarism: “Let me know if you can slip away this weekend. I’d love to see…and taste you again.”

I immediately flipped my phone face down and pulled the covers over my head. Can one overdose on melatonin? I’m going to need something stronger to get any real sleep. I closed my eyes and started a forced breathing routine, one of my anxiety coping skills, to get my heart rate to lessen. I unclenched my jaw and focused on my breathing to get some much-needed rest. Maybe this will have all been a dream and I will forget it by morning.

I woke up to the sound of my alarm blaring; I rolled over and grabbed my phone to silence its ringing. I still felt exhausted despite getting my usual six hours of sleep. I felt like I was coming out of a coma because I started to question what was even reality. There’s no way last night was real. As soon as I shut off the alarm, I could see Plagiarism’s text was still on my phone. Ok, so last night really happened. 

I decided to leave his text unanswered until I knew what the hell I was going to do. I desperately wanted Riley’s advice but the last thing I wanted to do was drag my drama into her bachelorette weekend. As her maid of honor, my focus needed to be solely on her. I got up and headed into the kitchen to start myself a cup of coffee before getting in the shower. I searched the cabinets for a mug and picked out a K-Cup from the carousel of coffees provided by the Airbnb host. I opted for a dark roast because I needed all of the caffeine I could get. I set up the Keurig and then went to the bathroom to get ready for the day.  

I stepped into the warm water coming from the shower head and washed last night’s memories off of me. Stop thinking about him. I wish he were in this shower with me. Stop it. I wish I could return the favor and make him feel as amazing as he made me feel. Stop. I wasn’t sure if the steam rising in the air was from the water or from my thoughts of him. 

I heard my phone ringing and practically screamed as I was shaken from my thoughts. I wrapped a towel around my body and sprinted across the hallway to grab my phone. “Please don’t be him,” I said aloud as I checked the screen. “Well, shit, not him either,” I said in a sarcastic tone before answering the call.

“Hey,” I said, trying not to sound disappointed.

“Hey,” Kenneth said. I stared at my feet wondering what to say to him. We normally live separate lives back home. With his business being in the city, I’m typically washing my plate in the sink when he comes home for dinner. Our conversations lasted only a few words at a time. On the weekends, we lived our lives separately despite being in the same space. I find errands to run in town and he finds hobbies to complete at home; we simply coexist. It’s our normalcy.

“So, what are y’all doing tonight?” Kenneth asked, breaking the silence.

“I need to look at the itinerary Riley made to be sure, but I think we have reservations for dinner and then we will head to Broadway since it’s a Saturday night,” I said.

“Be careful,” Kenneth said. Where did this sentiment come from? Was he actually missing me?

“Thanks, we will be,” I said. 

“The bed sure was lonely without you last night. Sassy didn’t even jump into bed,” he said.

“Tell her I’ll be home in a few days,” I said, disregarding his initial comment. Even when our bodies were mere inches from one another, I always felt lonely in that bed.

“Again with the damn dog,” he said in an angry tone. He still hadn’t sent me a picture of her like I had asked, but I didn’t feel like arguing with him.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “You know I miss you too,” I lied.

Riley and her friends would be at the Airbnb any moment. I still hadn’t texted Josh back because I wasn’t sure what I would even say to him. Reality hadn’t yet set in that a literal rock star was in between my legs last night. I did one last walk through the Airbnb to make sure everything was tidy and perfect when I heard a knock at the door. Why would the girls knock?

I opened the front door to find a young man holding a large bouquet of a dozen white roses and a box.

“Yes?” I asked the boy in uniform.

“I have a delivery for…Strawberry,” he said with a nervous pause. My jaw practically dropped to the ground. Before I could process what was happening, the boy was handing me the floral arrangement and white box. I accepted the surprise gifts and walked back inside to put them on the dining room table. I opened the mysterious box to find a dozen chocolate covered strawberries. I love an innuendo. I removed the card from the bouquet; I couldn’t let Riley see that the flowers weren’t for her. I planned to pretend that I ordered all of this for her when she got here. I opened the envelope and read the message on the card: “Thinking of you… -J” Good God. I held the card to my chest as I leaned in to smell the flowers. They were gorgeous and fully bloomed. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone sent me flowers. I heard the sound of car doors shutting and peaked out the window. Riley and her friends made it and were unloading their luggage from the rental car. I quickly ran to the room that I claimed and tucked the card from Josh in my suitcase. I grabbed my phone off the charger and noticed I had a text from Plagiarism.

Plagiarism: “Are you ok?”

Me: “Yes?”

Plagiarism: “Ok, just checking because I hadn’t heard from you.”

Me: “Thank you for my surprises.”

Plagiarism: “I’m full of them.”

Before I could respond, I heard Riley clear her throat while standing in my doorway. I was so involved in his texts that I didn’t even hear the girls come in. I tossed my phone on the bed and ran to give her the biggest hug. I wanted to cry because I was so happy to see her. It had been nearly six months since we had seen each other. You know that one person in your life who is your constant form of love and support? That’s my Riley. I squeezed her until she started to protest. “Ok, ok, let me go,” she said laughing. I finally set her free from the confines of my hug. 

“You look so beautiful!” I exclaimed as I admired her white velour tracksuit. No doubt it was brand new just for the trip.

“Check out the back,” she said with a grin as she turned around. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a hot pink ribbon so it was easy to read the word ‘BRIDE’ embroidered across her back. 

“I love it!” I said. 

“We have lots to discuss, ma’am,” she said as she narrowed her eyes at me. “But we can do that later. Come on, I want you to meet some of my friends,” she said as she pulled me into the living room. I followed behind her until the distant chatter and laughter was getting louder. On the couch sat three girls whom I immediately recognized from Riley’s Instagram posts. The “Nashville Babes” were finally together under the same roof. I tried to fight the urge of feeling socially awkward because I felt like I was the odd-man-out. While two of them traveled from different places, it was obvious that they all shared a close friendship. Maybe if I had been more involved in the group text, I wouldn’t feel like I was such an outsider.

I smiled as Riley made my introduction to the group but I couldn’t help the weird vibe I received from Abby, Riley’s newest friend and colleague. I didn’t like the expression on her face as she stared at me. I know it’s probably my anxiety making me overthink things, but I definitely didn’t feel like she was a fan of me. But then again, why should she be? 

Chapter Eight

I tried to shake the uneasy feeling off as we all got dressed and ready for our first night out. I examined the girls in their short skirts as a sea of hot pink glitter and sequins paraded through the living room. I looked down at my hot pink jumpsuit that I found on Amazon. I was so excited that I put it on as soon as it was delivered. I even held a fashion show for Riley on FaceTime. I once felt so hot in this outfit, but now I felt indifferent when I realized that I was once again the only one in the group who didn’t fit in. Riley wore a short, tight white dress with silver sequined booties. Her blonde hair cascaded into curls down her back. She looked like a total knockout. 

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Abby exclaimed as she started to rummage through her suitcase. She pulled out a rectangular box and handed it to Riley. Riley opened it and pulled out a hot pink sash that read “Bride to Be” across it in white glitter. 

“Oh my gosh! How cute!” Riley squealed as she took it out of the box. Abby jumped up with safety pins in her hand to help Riley put it on. I couldn’t help but to feel a pang of jealousy. I should have thought about that. Way to go, maid of dishonor.

“Let’s get some group pictures before we leave,” Riley’s friend Brooke said. 

“I brought my tripod!” Abby exclaimed happily. Ok, what doesn’t this girl think of?

“You’re always so prepared,” Riley said, kissing Abby on the side of her head. 

We took what felt like 500 pictures before we were finally ready to leave for our dinner reservation. I grabbed my phone, lipstick and wallet and stuffed them inside the wristlet purse I bought for the weekend. We packed into the rental car, and I was glad Abby was in the driver’s seat. It wasn’t so bad sitting in the backseat with Riley’s friends Brooke and Maddie. They were nice; Maddie even volunteered to sit in the middle. 

“Who wants to connect their phone to the car to play some music?” Brooke asked.

“I recently discovered a band I think you might like, Riley,” I said aloud.

“I actually made a Nash Bash playlist on Spotify for the weekend,” Abby said before Riley could respond. Of course she did.

“Hell yeah!” Maddie exclaimed as she reached for Abby’s phone. Maddie scrolled until she found the playlist and we listened to a plethora of pop music. I looked out the window and tried to remind myself that this was what a bachelorette weekend was all about. I concentrated on my breathing as the girls in the car yelled the lyrics to “WAP” at the top of their lungs. I felt my phone vibrate in my purse, and to my surprise, the name Plagiarism was on my screen with the message: “I’m free tonight.” I felt my face start to blush as I recalled what happened between us just last night. Dreaming of his touch, I desperately wished that I was free tonight too. I held the message down to “love” it before putting my phone back in my purse.

“Ooooh, is your husband sexting you?” I heard Abby ask. I looked up and saw that she was staring at me in the rearview mirror.

“I’m not married,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Oh, Riley said you were still with your high school sweetheart. I just assumed you’d be married,” she said. I studied her face in the mirror. I couldn’t quite place the look, but I didn’t like it. Or maybe I just didn’t like her.

“Not married yet,” Riley answered as she reached her arm back from the passenger seat to put her hand on my knee. I knew it was her way of comforting me. 

We pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant that Riley apparently had to reserve six months in advance. It was one of the top rated spots in Nashville according to her. I wanted to cry when I looked up the menu online and saw the most affordable entree was $39 and that was for a damn salad. We walked inside and Abby led the way to the host stand to check us in. I glanced around this “must-do” restaurant and saw white linens draped across every tabletop. A fireplace roared in the middle of the lobby. I heard classical music performed live by a pianist in the corner of the lobby. I bet I was the only woman in the whole place not in a dress. I looked down at my jumpsuit and tried to remember the sheer happiness I felt when I tried it on for the first time. As if she could sense my uneasiness, Riley grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight. 

“This way, please,” the man from the host stand said as he waved for us to follow him. We made our way through the restaurant and walked past tables of designer clothes, watches, perfumes, and bags. Before we made it to our table, I heard a wild laugh that stopped me in my tracks. I knew that laugh. I stopped following the girls and turned to find where the laugh was coming from. Immediately, I locked eyes with a familiar face. The assistant from the plane–no, he’s not an assistant. Jake. I could tell that he was studying me as well trying to recall where he knew me from. It was then that I realized Josh was sitting across from him with his back to me. I could recognize his hair anywhere. Holy shit. I realized that I had been standing and staring at their table like a lunatic, so I tried to find where my table was. While I glanced across the room looking for hot pink sequins to catch my eye, I looked back at his table to find Josh was now turned around. When I made eye contact with him, he flashed that beautiful smile of his. I returned a smile to him when I saw Riley waving at me from the corner of my eye. I made my way to our table and tried to act as normal as possible.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” Riley whispered into my ear.

“Yes,” I said quietly, folding the white napkin across my lap.

“Did you tell him we would be here?” she asked. I looked up at her face with a shocked expression in my eyes.

“Of course not!” I whispered back.

“Secrets don’t make friends,” Abby said from across the table with a smug look on her face. Good thing I’m not your friend.

“What are we drinking?” Riley interjected with her impeccable timing. 

“How about we order a bottle of wine for the table?” Abby asked. I didn’t even want to know how much that would cost, but I was along for the ride to give Riley the best weekend she deserved. I would worry about my credit card bill next month. 

Our server approached the table holding a bottle of champagne in his arm like he was presenting us with a gift. “A bottle of champagne for the celebration,” he held out to us. Behind him, another server began placing champagne flutes in front of all of us while the man with the bottle prepared to pour.

“Oh, we didn’t order anything–” Brooke began.

“This was sent over as a gift,” the server responded as he finished pouring her glass. I turned around to see Josh raising his glass to me. That sneaky son of a bitch. I turned back around to see Riley narrowed her eyes at me as if she could read my mind. 

“To Riley,” I said as I held up my glass of champagne. 

“To Riley,” the girls repeated as we raised our glasses together. Before I took a sip, I turned back to Josh and raised my glass to him. He gave me a wink and I wanted to melt to the floor. I sipped on the glass of champagne and allowed myself to let loose a little tonight. Fuck Kenneth, Abby, the outrageous prices of this restaurant—I was bound and determined to have a great night.

We ordered our entrees and were making small talk about Riley’s wedding plans when I felt my phone buzz in my wristlet. I checked the screen to see his name. Plagiarism: “Meet me near the bathrooms.” I slid my phone back in my purse and took another sip of the champagne.

“Excuse me, ladies. I’m going to run to the restroom real quick,” I said as I began to stand up.

“I can go with you,” Riley began to offer.

“No, it’s ok. Trust me,” I said. I pushed in my chair and made my way to the hallway where the bathrooms were. When I rounded the corner, I found Josh standing there waiting on me. 

“We can’t keep meeting like this,” he said laughing.

“I’m beginning to think you’re stalking me,” I said as I bit my lip.

“You look magnificent,” he said as I watched his eyes trail up my body. He moved closer to me, closing the space between us. I could feel my chest tighten as I struggled to breathe. I took a deep breath and inhaled his cologne. “I love a good jumpsuit.”

“Thank you. And thank you for everything today. The flowers, strawberries, champagne… You’ve really done too much,” I said. As soon as I finished speaking, he leaned in and kissed me. I met his kiss by pulling his bottom lip into my mouth and gave it a gentle bite. I felt his tongue swirl against mine. His hands moved across my back and up into my hair. He pushed me against the wall and moved his mouth to start kissing my neck.

“I want to taste you right now,” he whispered as he continued to kiss my neck. 

“Ahem,” we heard a man clearing his throat as he moved past us to walk into the restroom. We both pulled away and stared at each other before laughing. 

“Let’s continue this later,” Josh whispered into my ear. 

“I can’t. We’re going out tonight,” I said.

“I’ll come by when you get home and sneak in when the girls go to bed. The ol’ high school crush climbing through the window bull shit,” he said with a laugh. I answered his offer with a kiss. Thinking about what he did to me with his tongue last night made me want to pass out right there in the hallway. 

“I’ll text you when we’re headed back to the Airbnb,” I said trying to hide my smile.

“I’ll wait up,” he said as he kissed me on the cheek. He left the hallway and walked back into the restaurant. Before going back to our table, I decided I should probably take a glimpse at myself in the mirror to make sure I didn’t look like I had just made out with someone. I walked into the women’s bathroom and fixed my hair. I pulled out my lipstick from my purse to reapply when the door opened behind me. 

“Are you shitting me?” Riley asked as she walked toward me at the sink. I bent down to make sure nobody was in the stalls who could hear us. 

“I just saw him leave the bathroom hallway,” Riley said.

“Yes, we had a conversation,” I said, applying my lipstick.

“Oh, I’m sure there was a whole lot of talking going on,” Riley said as she put her hands on her hips. I looked up to see her giving me the look in the mirror. I put the cap back on my lipstick and turned to face her.

“Riley, I love you. I’m here for you. This is your weekend. Now let’s go eat,” I said, pulling on her arm.

“I just feel like there is so much you’re not telling me,” she said without budging.

“I promise I will fill you in later,” I said, taking her hands in mine. “Now come on before they think I’m shitting my brains out in here,” I said laughing.

“No, literally that’s why I told them I had to come check on you,” Riley said following me out of the bathroom.

After we finished dinner, we climbed into the car and headed toward the bar scene on Broadway. Abby so kindly volunteered to be the DD for tonight, and although I wasn’t planning on getting drunk, I still let her. Besides, I wanted to stick to my mantra from earlier about letting loose and making the most out of this weekend. The first bar we went to was blaring the most God awful country music, but it was packed. Before going in, I slid my engagement ring off and put it in my purse. If I wanted free drinks, I had to look the part. The bouncer let us in without having to pay the cover when he spotted Riley’s bachelorette sash. I’m sure the kiss she blew him helped influence his ever so generous decision. 

We made our way through the crowd of 20-somethings and headed straight towards the bar. We spotted another group of girls who were dressed up in bachelorette garb. I know Nashville is a go-to destination for these types of celebrations. Riley squealed and hugged the other bride-to-be. 

The girls in the other group started chanting, “Shots! Shots! Shots!” I could feel my throat starting to close with the idea of even taking one. I didn’t think we’d start the night off going this hard, but when in Rome, or I guess Nashville. The bartender laid out a line of nine shot glasses with sugar rims and poured some yellow liquid into all of them. 

“What even is that?” I yelled to Riley over the sound of the raucous music and crowd.

“Lemon drops!” The bartender answered for her. Riley started grabbing the glasses and handing them out to everyone in both bridal groups. Abby grabbed one and I looked at her confusingly. I guess one shot wouldn’t hurt.

The other bride raised her shot glass to Riley and yelled, “To sucking the same dick forever!” I nearly choked before the glass even touched my lips. That’s one way to look at marriage. I winced as I threw back the shot preparing for the burn, but I was pleasantly surprised. It was smooth, delicious, and just tasted like lemonade. I could drink these all night. 

“Another!” Abby yelled. The bartender saluted her and took our glasses back to prepare for another round.

“Just be ok to drive later, ok?” I leaned in to tell Abby.

“I’ll be fine,” she said with an annoyed tone.

When the bartender pushed another line of shots to us, we each grabbed one. I could see Riley was trying to think of something witty to say for our second round.

She cleared her throat. “To love, leather, and lace… And sitting on someone’s face!” she yelled aloud. Now that I could make a toast to because I remembered Josh’s talented tongue as I downed the shot. 

After shooting my fourth lemon drop, I definitely started to feel the effects of the liquor. We made our way to the dancefloor and I felt myself loosening up. I didn’t know the song that was playing but I danced as if I choreographed the damn thing. I’m sure I looked like an idiot, but I was drunk, dancing with my best friend, and having a great time. 

Chapter Nine

After we hopped from bar to bar, the girls were getting a little tired and feeling a lotta drunk. I knew I was under the influence, but I was still aware of what was going on. I couldn’t say the same for Riley; she was struggling to stay upright. That’s when we knew it was time to go. Thankfully, Abby stayed true to her word and was sober to drive us back. I climbed into the backseat and pulled out my phone. It took my eyes several seconds to adjust to what I was seeing and even then I couldn’t comprehend what I was reading. Shit, I’m more drunk than I thought.

“Play some damn music or I’m gonna puke!” Riley demanded in a drunken yell. Abby pulled up her playlist from earlier and selected yet another pop song that made all of the girls shriek. 

“Oh shit, are you actually dancing back there?” I heard Abby say. And before I realized it, she was talking about me. I was swaying to the music while still trying to read the messages on my phone. Yep, drunk.

I started to compose my text message to Plagiarism: “I am drunkkkkkk and I want you so bad.”

“Are you on your way back?”

“Yes come over”

“You ok?”

“I want you so badddddddd”

“I can be there in 10 hours but you’d be asleep by then”

“WTF”

“????”

It was then that I realized I wasn’t texting Josh. I was texting Kenneth! Fuck fuck fuck fuck. I quickly swiped to delete our conversation so I wouldn’t make another texting mistake. I started to sweat from the nerves. I rolled down my window to get some fresh air. I was no longer swaying to the music and I felt myself sobering up quickly. I noticed Riley was passed out in the passenger seat while Maddie and Brooke were taking drunk selfies next to me. Don’t freak out… I could play it off tomorrow as being drunk. Surely it wasn’t obvious that I wasn’t meaning to text him.

When we got back to the Airbnb, we all played a role in making sure our bride-to-be made it safely to her bed. We took turns getting her ready: Maddie removed her heels and sash, Abby removed her fake lashes and put her hair up, Brooke put her phone on the charger, and I set out a small trash can next to the bed and placed a bottle of water on her nightstand. 

I said good night to the girls and went to my room to text Josh. I still didn’t know how I wanted to approach confronting him with the information that I discovered, but I figured I would just cross that bridge when he got here. I pulled out my phone and verified that I selected the name Plagiarism from my messages.

Me: “Do you still want to come over?” 

Plagiarism: “Of course I do.”

Me: “The girls are in bed. Text me when you’re in the driveway and I’ll meet you at the door.”

Plagiarism: “See you, soon”

Part of me wanted to stay in my hot pink jumpsuit, especially since Josh had such a reaction to it, but I didn’t want to lay in bed with it on after a night out. I changed into some comfortable pajamas and made my way to the kitchen to eat a chocolate covered strawberry from his delivery this morning. I admired the roses on the table, the ones Riley thanked me for, as I savored the sweet treat. Afterwards, I walked to the bathroom to brush my teeth and freshen up everywhere else. By now my drunkenness had definitely worn off and I could thank my texting mishap from earlier for that. I still didn’t know how I was going to play that off when Kenneth called me tomorrow, but I had other things right now to worry about. I heard my phone vibrate and looked down to see a text from Plagiarism: “So should I ring the doorbell 50 times or just beat on the door until you open it?” I rolled my eyes at his joke as I made my way to the living room to let him in. I may be a grown woman, but I felt like I was sneaking my boyfriend in while my parents were asleep. It was kind of exhilarating. I peaked out the window but didn’t see his Jeep in the driveway. Confused, I texted him back.

Me: “Are you sure you went to the right house?”

Plagiarism: “Yes, I am literally standing on the front porch right now.”

I slowly turned the lock on the door to peek outside. Just like he said, there stood Josh. I put my finger over my lips to indicate for him to be silent. I opened the door wider for him to walk in, and when he moved past me, the smell of his cologne consumed me. I’m going to have to find out what that scent is. As I shut the door behind him, I locked it and then he grabbed my hand and led me to my bedroom. I felt every nerve ending in my body get warm. We made our way down the hallway and once we got to my door, he motioned for me to walk in first. I made my way into the room and placed my phone on the nightstand as he shut the bedroom door and locked it. I sat on the bed trying to keep my cool but I felt like I was going to combust at any moment. He made his way over to the bed and sat next to me. He lifted his hand to brush my hair behind my ear and I swear I was about to start floating.

“Where is your Jeep?” I asked him.

“I parked it on the side street so none of your friends would see it in the driveway if they got up early,” he said. I felt my stomach do a cartwheel. So he was planning on staying the night. I was going to suggest that wasn’t a good idea, but then, I wanted to savor the limited time I had left with him. “I’ll just slip out in the morning when you’re all getting ready. How was your first night out in Nashville?” he asked in the most sincere voice.

“It was a blast. Riley partied a little too hard, so she’s currently passed out. I even got a little carried away too,” I said, biting my lip.

He turned his body more to face me like I had all of his attention. “Oh?” He asked.

“Yes, but I’ve sobered up, so all is good,” I said with a laugh. The only intoxication I felt anymore was from being this close to his body.

“When I saw you in the restaurant earlier, I wanted to ditch my friends and take you away immediately,” he said.

“I mean, you got a little taste in the hallway of the restrooms. A really romantic location, I might add,” I said sarcastically. He leaned in close to whisper in my ear, “Oh, I have been thinking about your taste all day.” I immediately sucked in a breath of air with his foreward remark. He pulled away from me to look into my eyes. I studied his brown eyes and almost forgot all of the lies he had told me up until this point. I watched his gaze move from my eyes down to my lips.

“How about we finish what we started earlier?” he asked in such a seductive tone that I felt my cheeks flush. I nodded and he immediately pulled me into a kiss. I felt his tongue part my lips and he kissed me with such passion that I forgot we were trying to be quiet. I moaned into his mouth which seemed to encourage him. He immediately pulled my shirt off over my head and I felt his hands travel frantically up my body. He gripped the sides of my waist and pulled me on top of him. I straddled him as he undid the clasp of my bra behind my back while he continued to kiss me. With my breasts now exposed, he moved his mouth to kiss my chest. I felt him get hard underneath me, and my center was warm and wet. I needed him in a way that I had never needed anything before. 

He lifted me up and turned his body to lay me down on the bed. He moved himself to the floor like he did last night. I knew what was about to happen and I could almost die from anticipation. I felt his hands slowly trail down the sides of my waist as he began to pull my pajama shorts off. 

He asked, “No underwear?”

“I figured I’d save you a step,” I said with a grin. He returned the smile and maintained eye contact as I watched his face get closer to my entrance. As soon as I felt his mouth, I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. I threw my head back on the satin sheets. Just like before, he performed a magic ritual with his tongue. I felt every twist and turn of his tongue on my clit as he made my back arch. His strong arms gripped my thighs and I inhaled deeply. I grabbed a pillow to put over my face to help stifle the noise as I moaned. I was so close to the feeling of ecstasy; I knew I was seconds away from cuming. I pulled the pillow tighter to my face as if I were trying to smother myself. I screamed with pleasure and Josh’s grip got tighter around my legs. My back arched again and I pushed my body up to where I was practically riding his face; he continued to lick me until I writhed beneath him. I let out another muffled scream into the pillow and felt Josh pull away. He removed the pillow and hovered over me with the most animalistic look in his eyes.

“Joshua Michael, you have ruined me,” I said with a deep sigh.

“Oh, Strawberry, this is just the beginning… Can I fuck you?” He asked. I answered his question by leaning up to start removing his pants. He put his hands on mine as if he were trying to stop me. “I need to hear you say yes before we–,” he began. 

“Fuck yes,” I interrupted as I continued to remove his pants. He was bulging from his underwear and I wanted nothing more than to take him inside of me. He pulled a condom out of his wallet and I watched as he slipped it over his huge dick. He threw the wrapper on the floor and walked over to me on the bed. I stared up at him and waited in anticipation. He slowly climbed on top of me but hesitated before lowering himself. I glanced down to watch him position himself and I gasped when he entered me. Every good feeling I have ever felt up until this very moment would pale into comparison. He started to thrust slowly and I felt every cell in my body burst. I lightly dragged my nails across his back as he kissed my neck. His thrusts became harder and I felt him go deeper inside of me. I felt like my entire body was on fire. I moaned his name into his ear and listened to the sound of our bodies colliding. His teeth sank into my skin and every thrust was more addictive than the last. My orgasm came out of nowhere and I gripped his shoulders so tight that my fingerprints would leave him bruised. As if my release gave him permission, his movements got faster when his lips met mine. I felt his body tense. I moaned his name one last time before feeling him tremble as he came. His forehead fell gently to mine and our sweat mixed together. Both of us struggled to catch our breath as he slipped out of me. I still had yet to open my eyes because I felt as if I were no longer in my physical body. 

After we had taken turns cleaning up in the bathroom across the hall, I anxiously waited for him under the comforter of my bed. I didn’t plan on him staying the night, but now I was looking forward to it. I just wanted to be near him. He came back into the room and shut the door quietly behind him. The only light remaining was the dim glow of the lamp on the nightstand. But the glow from his beautiful smile was all that was needed to illuminate the room. I slid over to make space for him to join me in bed. He was still wearing his sweatpants but kept his shirt off. I cuddled up against his chest and inhaled his enticing aroma. I laid my cheek against his pec and twirled my fingers across his stomach.

“I’m not ready to leave Nashville,” I said quietly.

“I’m never going to be able to eat strawberries again,” he said as he kissed the top of my head. “Nothing will taste as good as you.” 

“Will you come back the next two nights?” I asked, looking him in the eyes.

“I think I can arrange that,” he said with that gapped grin. I snuggled to him tighter. 

“Josh?” I asked, looking down at his waist.

“Yes?” He responded.

“I need to be honest with you, and I’d like for you to be honest with me,” I said with a lump in my throat. I was nervous about confronting him with the truth, but I couldn’t ignore it any longer. He didn’t answer me and instead I felt his body tense as he straightened up next to me.

“I know you aren’t a concert photographer…” I began. I still couldn’t look at him. I wondered what expression he had on his face, but I couldn’t bring myself to look. “I know you’re the lead singer in Greta Van Fleet,” I said with finality.

“I knew I fucked up by putting our playlist on your phone,” he said with a laugh. “When did you figure it out?” 

“Last night after you left…” I admitted.

“And you’re just now telling me?” He asked in a surprised tone.

“I don’t think I’m the one in the wrong here,” I said, getting defensive.

“No, no, it’s not that. I just can’t believe you didn’t say something as soon as you found out,” he said, dragging his fingers over the hand I still had on his stomach. 

“I didn’t know how to bring it up,” I said, finally looking at him.

“When you didn’t recognize me on the plane, I got excited. We have a rule in the band: We don’t fuck fans, so I–” he was saying.

“Wait. Was I just some sort of a conquest to you?” I asked, completely pulling away from his body.

“What?” He asked with a shocked expression on his face. I studied him for a second.

“You said you don’t fuck fans. Was that your only intention all along?” I asked, fighting the tears that I knew were forming in my eyes. 

“Not at all, but listen, I don’t even know your name. You’re only here for a weekend. Jesus, you’re engaged to be married. I just didn’t see this as being anything serious,” he admitted. I was so angry but I was still channeling all of my energy trying not to cry. And the worst part? He was 100% right. Was I living in some fool’s dream world that this weekend was going to last forever? That he was going to fall in love with me and I’d follow him all over the world? I was just another one of his many hook-ups. Riley was right. I reached over and turned off the lamp so I could cry without him noticing. 

“Talk to me. What’s upsetting you?” He asked.

“I guess I thought we had more of a connection, but I guess I was just an easy fuck,” I said allowing the tears to fall now that I was safe in the darkness. What was the most thrilling night of my life, with the best sex I’ve ever had, now turned into an embarrassing nightmare. 

“My intentions were never to hurt you. I thought you and I were on the same page about what we wanted out of this weekend. This wasn’t going to be permanent… How could it be?” He asked in a way that I wasn’t sure was rhetorical or not.

“No, no, you’re right,” I said as I wiped my face hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“You’re not an easy fuck. Please don’t think that’s what this was. That’s not what interested me at all with you. I truly enjoyed getting to know you on the plane and I wanted to spend more time with you last night because I could tell your soul needed company,” he said as he wiped a tear from my cheek. Great, he could tell I was crying. “The sex was just an added bonus, but if you want me to leave, I will,” he said quietly.

“No, you can stay,” I said, burying my wet face into his chest. 

He whispered quietly, “I would like to keep seeing you while you’re here, but if you don’t want that, I understand.” I snuggled closer to him and felt him pull me into a tighter hug. He was right. There was no way this was going to be permanent. Soon I’d be back to my simple life in my small town in Oklahoma. I’d be back to my lonely life with small town Kenneth. I’d be back to my life with no dreams of anything that would ever allow me to escape like I had this weekend. 

“Good night, Josh,” I said with an ache in my voice and an even bigger ache in my chest.

“Good night, Strawberry,” he said with a tone that sounded oddly like mine. Before we drifted off to sleep in one another’s arms, I silently prayed that morning wouldn’t come so I could spend more time here in this moment. 

“OH MY GOD!” Riley yelled as she stood in the doorway to my bedroom. I jolted up from my sleep to find Riley staring at Josh and me in my bed. Her eyes quickly moved to something on the floor and she yelled, “OH MY FUCKING GOD!” In a moment of panic, I looked to see what she was staring at… The condom wrapper on the floor.