#great pain after losing a loved one?

[lexa-griffins]

Farm Lexa has this hand bound book she made back when she was around sixteen. She made it to keep her pressed flowers. The very first page has pressed daisies and a date below them followed by a happy scribble, "Clarke asked me on a date."

The dandelion Clarke put in her hair after their first kiss. A black eyed susan they picked after their first time as they walked around the run down farm.

The petals of the deep red roses Clarke gifted Lexa the day they decided to get engaged.

One of each of the flowers Lexa walked down the aisle with. One of each of the flowers from Clarke's bouquet.

The english primrose that popped up in Lexa's garden not long after little Madi laughed for the first time.

The Lilly of the Valley a baby Saige found fascinating because fairies lived in them.

The poppies the twins ended up ripping from her garden because it matched their hair.

The small piece of baby's breath that showed up around the tree where they buried their baby soon after Lexa stepped out of her grief.

The sunflower petals that remind her of Clarke and their little sunshine boy Aden.

Every wild flower the kids offered her. At least one petal from the bouquets Clarke got her. Her favorite flowers from her garden. The ones she found on walks. All dated, all with a note on why they made her smile.

[inertia-writes]

out of it

i've been running into you at places,

and i see you for what you really are

you're just one of those people

who's way better from afar.

but there was a time before this,

those days I wish I could freeze.

i still remember everything --

the walks, outings & monsoon breeze.

23 revolutions around the sun,

yet I wouldn't call myself smart.

to think I was falling in love,

when I was gradually falling apart.

i wrote all those things for you,

thought thrice before i sent them.

you never wrote any words in response,

but it's not like you would've meant them.

you left me waiting & ...waiting

i went from dreaming to losing sleep.

if no love's ever wasted,

i suppose mine was never yours to keep.

so I'll watch from the sidelines,

knowing there's nothing holding us together.

maybe I couldn't find love,

but I've found peace for the better.

[caramel-ribbons]

I just watched Avatar for the first time all the way through, and yeah, it’s great, but the one thing that surprised me was how different Katara was compared to the fandom interpretation I’d seen and internalized before watching.

Like, before you watch Avatar, you’ve seen all these memes about Katara and her mom, and based on those memes, you assume it’s one of those lines you have to get used to hearing at least once every episode. But then you watch the show and realize that she only talks about her mom maybe five or six times per season and you also realize she only brings her up when she’s trying to comfort someone or empathize with them because that’s how she processes her grief and that’s one way she connects with people.

Or you hear the infamous line, “then you didn’t love [our mother] the way I did” and you prepare yourself for one of the worst character assassinations ever only to see the scene after nearly three seasons worth of context and realize she was kinda right. She’s been the mother, the nurturer, the comforter. She’s been patient, gentle, and accommodating where everyone else has gotten to be insensible and reckless and childish, and the one moment where she allows herself to feel her grief, suddenly she’s this evil bitch and not, y’know, a 14 year old girl whose been thrusted into adulthood in a way no other character has. A 14 year old girl who should be allowed immaturity and raw emotion and anger instead of the patience and grace she’s been forced to extend to every character without even the smallest amount of gratitude or even consideration in return.

Or you see all of the clips where Katara puts Aang in the “friendzone” and you expect to have this wishy washy back and forth where Aang is putting his feelings out there only to have Katara neither commit nor express any clear reciprocation or rejection. Then you watch and realize that, as cute as the ship is initially, that there’s never a point where Aang returns any comfort or grace to Katara despite her always doing this for him to the point of coddling. That for as much as Aang says he loves her, he never seems to outgrow his perception of her so he can recognize her as someone who feels grief, anger, and pain as much as she expresses love, kindness, and maturity. And instead of having moments where he learns to see her beyond her strength or compassion, you’re instead given moments where Aang forces his feelings onto her, both romantic and non-romantic, and Katara is expected to just…shoulder those feelings the way she shoulders everyone else’s.

Katara is the most misunderstood character in the show. As much as people recognize the complexities of Zuko, Sokka, and Azula, they struggle to do the same for Katara because they see her struggles as somehow lesser, and therefore, less deserving of sympathy. They can handle her so long as she’s being endlessly patient and loving and kind, but the moment her endless love, patience, and kindness runs out, she’s suddenly this annoying bitch who can’t shut up about her mother or reciprocate Aang’s feelings. But Katara’s trauma does matter as much as anyone else’s. No, she wasn’t banished from her kingdom. No, she didn’t lose her entire community, and no, she isn’t the only one who lost her mother. But the difference between her and everyone else whose experienced loss because of the Fire Nation is that she’s never given time to process her trauma. Aang gets to lean on Katara constantly. Toph gets to express her feelings to Katara, and yeah, Sokka also lost their mother, but unlike Katara, he isn’t put in the position of being a substitute for everyone’s parent. He even admits that he sees his sister as a mother. The only characters who ever comfort Katara or allow her to vent is Zuko and her father and that’s, like, three scenes in a show where the other characters are consistently given opportunities to seek out Katara for unconditional support.

The fandom interpretation of Katara has been so bastardized that even those who haven’t watched the show know her for this fanon version and not for who she is. She’s such an interesting character beyond her fandom limitations, though. She’s brave, hot-headed, and hopeful as well as gentle and caring. She wishes to learn waterbending, not only because she wants to fight in the war, but because she wants to continue her culture’s practices because, and people often forget this, she also lost an entire subculture within her already fractured tribe. And she wants to defeat the Fire Nation both because of her deep love and empathy for other people, but also because she wants to avenge her mother. But because some of the fans have reduced Katara to a bitch who constantly whines about her mother and friendzones Aang, you wouldn’t know any of this, and it sucks because she’s the only character whose been dumbed down to such an extent.

[chastiefoul]

he finds you crying ft. love and deepspace men

ft. zayne, xavier, rafayel, and sylus a/n: I always feel like mc wasn’t given enough time to grief when chapter 4 happened (or maybe they just didn’t show it or i remember it wrong) but to lose the people you’ve considered family like that in front of your eyes would severely mess on anyone’s mental well-being. mc stronger than me fr i would've had a breakdown every night. so i tried to write the comfort that was long overdue. <3

Zayne

He found you hunched over at the couch, knees tucked to your chest. your shoulder shook as he heard the sniffles and although he’s physically perfectly fine, he swore it felt like his heart was breaking in two.

He would gently put his key on the table, making his presence known in the subtlest way possible so you didn’t get startled.

You quickly tried to wipe your eyes and sat normally but suddenly in no time you were carried as he made you sit on his lap, bringing your head close to his neck as he held you tight.

Zayne wasn’t one who’s great at offering consoling words, as he also a firm believer of actions speak louder than words. As he rubbed your back gently he only said, “Let it all out, I’m here.”

So you did just that. You’ve said this once to him as a joke, but truly, anywhere by his side was the time you felt the most safe.

The doctor continued to comfort you in silence, hoping with every beat of his heart that his arms and hands that’s so used in saving people’s lives, could offer at least some kind of solace for your heart that was in disarray.

Xavier

He’d never hated the sight of a bed so much, until he found you crying atop of it.

Xavier would rushes over to you (arguably faster when he encountered strayed wanderers), determined to do anything he could to help you feel better.

As he put a hand over your cheek, wiping the tears that just kept on coming he whispered, “I’m here, what do you need?”

When you couldn’t even manage a reply Xavier would just stay by your side, his and was diligent in rubbing the side of your face; he never felt so useless, knowing the little gesture gave almost to none help.

For someone who finds sleep easy inbetween every hours, that was the most restless he’s ever been. He stayed with you until you calmed down, offering gentle whispers as you felt your awake state slipping away.

The moment you’re asleep Xavier was keen on wiping your face softly off of the remaining tears, and he tucked you in properly. He brought you to his embrace.

Yet unlike any other nights, he couldn’t find any part of him that was able to join you into the dream state.

Rafayel

Rafayel knew he came at a bad time. Seeing the way you spoke so stiffly and the way you zoned out of the conversation every few minutes.

However, he also knew he couldn’t leave you alone right then.

The silence once again was loud, but he didn’t think you realize that, as he followed your stare to the table, to what’s on the top of the table to be exact. A necklace with an apple charm on it.

He approached your side, cupping your face with both of his hands. “Miss bodyguard, you don’t have to be strong all the time, you know? Especially now, since you’re off duty.”

You chuckled quietly, but what followed after was not your usual easy smile but instead it was tears streaming down your face. And it felt like Rafayel could offer anything he had just to make them stop. And if that’s not enough, he swore to give you twice or thrice of what he had, it didn’t matter if he was to be in debt.

He held you tight, the sight of you crying was enough to make tears made their way to his eyes as well. And it pained him, knowing the best he could do in that moment was only to hold you tighter, as he wished that he could mend whatever broken part you had with one of his.

Sylus

He didn’t even flinch when you climbed on his lap, your usual talkativeness was nowhere to be found.

You rested your head on his shoulder and within seconds he knew that your emotions were in chaos, and if you thought you could find comfort in him, then he was more than happy to be there for you.

“Let me stay like here for a while,” you said weakly, voice all tense and anxious.

He brought a palm to your back, “By all means, darling. You didn’t think I was going to turn you away, did you?”

You stayed quiet, trying your best to get your emotions in order but it just seemed impossible. Sylus then sigh at your another attempt to pretend once again that you’re okay. “Cry if you need. Tears were never a sign of weakness, it just proves that you’re human.”

His rigid sentence somehow brought a strange sense of comfort for you, making your tears escape freely.

Sylus’ fingers felt fleeting on your back, like a touch that could slip away anytime. But he made sure none of that will happen as he stroke your hair gently over and over.

Was he worried of you? Absolutely. Yet he believed with all of his entire being that you that has fallen apart that day, would have no time standing back up again on the next day.

If there’s anything he learnt about you during your time with him, is that you’re a stranger to giving up.

[deathbxnny]

Can I request angst for arcane characters x reader. Where they argued with each other and then later on reader is hanging on to dear life (READER SAVE ISHA FROM DEATH PLEASE! IM COPING-)

Arcane women with an s/o that dies after an argument. | Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn x Gn!Reader

So I may have taken this idea in a more extreme direction, ahaha... Anyway, thanks for the great request and I hope you'll enjoy!!<3

(I'm sorry in advance-)

Content: Heavy angst, arguments, spoilers for season 2, established romantic relationships, blood, fatal injuries, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VI

Your argument was a petty one. At least in her humble opinion, at least. She warned you not to push her too far, to not bring up Caitlyn when it wasn't needed. But you ofcourse refused to listen, and it ended in a full-blown screaming match she wasn't proud of. You were just looking out for her, scared she'll lose herself under the bright lights of the fighting pit and the flashing bass of the clubs. The alcohol consumption was destroying her, too, and you wanted to get her out of this hellscape.

You were always so kind and patient with her, something she was always so grateful about. So why did she tell you that she hated you? That you were overbearing? That Caitlyn was far better than you ever could be? She didn't know. She really didn't.

And any apology she may have had died on her tongue when you ran out of her dingy little showroom in tears. Oh, how her heart ached at the sound of YOU apologizing for not being good enough. The clarity of what she had done hit her like a truck then, making her finally see what she had become.

The shame made her turn even worse, your warnings and pleas feeling undeserving to follow. Days turned into weeks, then months, and she eventually forgot all about everyone... except for you. The image of your brokenhearted figure haunts her at every moment. Especially her dreams.

So when Jinx came to her for help, she saw it as a sign. She needed to apologize and get you back. She was desperate for it. She couldn't take it any longer without you. But alas... karma was an odd thing. Instead of hitting her like she wished, she found you being the victim of it instead. Whatever God was out there must've hated her terribly.

You were fighting with the Enforcers during the invasion of the Noxians and the Herald. Battle was never your strong suit, but you were never the type to back down from anything. Especially not when it came to the defense of your home. You had the option to leave. In fact, Caitlyn was the one to give you it. Yet, instead, you grabbed a uniform and headed to the Frontlines at her side. You were always so loyal, so goddamned good.

It was, therefore, not surprising that you threw yourself over Vi when she was being shot at. You had only briefly seen each other before it was time to move, and you gave her a welcoming, weak smile that made her heart hammer against her chest. She wasn't deserving of you. "Why... Why the fuck did you do that?!" She yelled over the sound of chaos above her, when she was finally able to get you somewhere safe. Giving her a bloody grin, you flinched a little at the pain in your chest, an arrow protruding from it. The crimson liquid drenched the blue of your uniform and Vi's palm that she desperately pressed against it. But there was no hope. It was over.

The gods wanted you dead.

Placing your hand over hers, you stopped her frantic movements with a chuckle turned cough. "I... I'm sorry-" "-Stop apologizing! I should be the one doing that! I'm the reason this all happened, I... I'm so fucking sorry." Her tears dropped onto your face, and you reached up with the last of your power to wipe them away. You couldn't breathe anymore. Your heart was beginning to fail, and the primal panic set in in the face of death. Intelligible words spilled out of your mouth, not making any sense to anyone but you. You wanted to tell her how much you still loved her.

But with a deep, rattling breathe your suffering was finally over, and your hand dropped to your side limply. Vi could only stare at you in horror, unable to say a word anymore, before she was dragged away by some Enforcers. She tried to fight her way back to you, yet there was no use.

The last thing she saw was your body being covered by debris from the falling ceiling.

》JINX

You and Jinx had gotten into an argument in the Herald's weird compound over Vander's well-being. Whilst she, too, didn't trust Viktor, she ultimately had no other ideas on how to turn him back to normal. And that's all she really wanted. She wanted her father back so badly that she and Vi were both too blinded to see how odd this entire thing really was. And it didn't help that you were worried about Isha's safety too.

Everyone here felt too robotic to be human. They didn't have real emotions or motivations other than what their leader had already preached about. It all felt superficial and lifeless, like they were husks and empty shells of people. But alas, you were the only one who saw it. Everyone basked in the warm sun and heavenly aura, never daring to glance into the darkness around them in fear of what they may see. The people that were "healed" didn't seem really healed. And you wondered if the Herald himself was blinded too.

Either way, it led to a huge argument in which you asked her to get Vander and everyone else rounded up to leave immediately. She was confused at first, but it started to frustrate her how you couldn't understand how much this meant to her. This was the first step to freedom and having her family back. A family she always wanted to have with you. Jinx got a small taste of that with Isha around now and never wanted to lose it again. But you couldn't shake the feeling that something really bad was going to happen if you didn't get out of here now. It ended with you both going your separate ways for the time being, mainly because you refused to argue in front of the poor small girl.

You avoided each other like the plague in the compound, and Jinx ignored you out of pettiness when you tried to reconcile. The safety of the family you've created was also important to you. More than she'll ever understand. But alas, no one could convince the blue haired girl of talking to you again. Not Vi. Not Isha. Even Vander tried his luck by slightly pushing her towards you. She always took everything so personally. So much so that her stubbornness often caused the death of others she cared about.

And just as she thought that she might have finally escaped that fate, the world had to once again prove her wrong.

The Noxians were attacking, wanting to get ahold of Vander, who had gone crazy and aggressive in response. Calming him down was impossible, and fighting off an entire army of trained warriors even harder. Jinx was panicking, trying to look for you and Isha in the dense, chaotic crowd, until she saw the small girl sprint towards the crazed Warwick with her gun in hand. She was quick to understand what she was trying to do and attempted to stop her, but Vi held her back. But the girl wouldn't die today. No, at least that part of her wish would come true, as she wouldn't lose her family today... just you. Her entire world.

You came sprinting out of the masses, practically tossing Isha into safety as you grabbed the gun from her. Aiming it up at Vander, things slowed down around you when your eyes met Jinx's horrified ones. Her screams echoed in your mind whilst you mouthed "I love you" to her and pulled the trigger, hoping that everyone made it out safe in the end.

》CAITLYN

The funerals of the deaths that were caused by Jinx's actions were all cold and grim. All of them evoke deep hatred in Caitlyn, who now stood at her last one, most guests having cleared out by now in grief. Looking back, she wondered when everything went wrong. After careful analysis, she came to the conclusion that your argument sparked most of the events in a way.

You were feeling betrayed by her lack of presence in her relationship ever since she and Vi had a mission to complete. She never let you in on what exactly they were up to, and she now realises that it was wrong of her. Cait could see how you might have thought that she had something with Vi that was never there. Sure, she was a pleasant company, and the only thing she had in very dangerous moments... but it was never more than that. She was a friend and that's it.

You, on the other hand, were her betrothed, the person she swore her life to and wanted to marry in the coming spring. Her mother had always approved of you two and practically pushed her to the next step, especially at how close she was with you. Cassandra had adopted you as your mother in law from day one, to say the least. And yet... she had disappointed her with the way she yelled at you to get a grip. Caitlyn was so stressed and exhausted in that moment that she couldn't think straight and let it out on you. Something she regrets deeply, perhaps even more than never being able to tell you how sorry she was now.

A hand came to rest on her shoulder, her mother’s stern, yet sympathetic expression greeting her. "It's time." She said, confirming the closing of your casket. Yes, this was your funeral. You had thrown yourself on top of her mother once the ceiling came crashing down. She lived with minor injuries whilst you were crushed by the debris. It was all so fast. Your reflexes were impressive as always. And it cost you your life. You were dead. Gone. She still couldn't believe it, even after gazing at your body for hours on end now.

The rage and anger turned into unspeakable hatred, one she could never shake for as long as she lived. She'd get her revenge one way or another. Even if it means to burn the entirety of Zaun down in your name to achieve it. But instead of voicing it, she took a deep breath and nodded. "Very well." She whispered, not trusting her voice anymore. The guilt was eating her alive, and she couldn't help but sway a bit on her feet at how nauseous she felt. You were always so scared of the dark and tight spaces. This was your worst nightmare, and she couldn't stop thinking about how scared you must've been in your last moments. Her mother said that you cried out Caitlyn's name before you stilled.

And so, as the casket's lid began shifting over your cold, stiff body, she stretched herself ever so slightly to catch last glimpses of your slumbering expression.

She may never forgive herself... but she'd make the undercity beg for her forgiveness instead. It was time for justice to prevail at last.

[pucksandpower]

Until Next Time

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: in which two soulmates are destined to always find each other only to be torn apart lifetime after lifetime after lifetime … until finally, they’re not (aka the reincarnation AU)

Mycenae, 1208 BC

The sun beats down mercilessly on the marble steps of the temple. You stand at the top, your white chiton billowing in the warm breeze. Your eyes scan the crowd gathered below, searching for one face among the sea of onlookers.

“Where is he?” You whisper, your heart pounding.

A firm hand grips your shoulder. “It’s time, princess,” your father’s voice rumbles behind you.

You turn to face him, eyes pleading. “Father, please. This can’t be the only way.”

The king’s face is a mask of stone, but his eyes betray a flicker of sorrow. “The gods have spoken. We must obey.”

As he speaks, a commotion erupts at the base of the temple steps. Your breath catches in your throat as you spot Max pushing through the crowd, his face contorted with desperation.

“No!” He shouts, his voice carrying over the murmur of the crowd. “You can’t do this!”

Two guards grab him, restraining his arms as he struggles against their grip.

“Let me go!” Max yells, his eyes locking with yours. “She’s innocent! Take me instead!”

You start to move towards him, but your father’s grip tightens. “Don’t,” he warns.

“Max,” you call out, your voice breaking. “It’s okay. This is my duty.”

Max shakes his head violently. “No, it’s not! This is madness!”

The high priest approaches, his ornate robes rustling as he walks. “The sacrifice must be made,” he intones. “The gods demand it.”

You feel a chill run down your spine despite the heat. The priest’s eyes are cold as he regards you.

“Please,” Max begs, still struggling against the guards. “There has to be another way. Let me speak to the oracle. Maybe-”

“Silence!” The priest snaps. “The decision has been made. The princess will ensure a bountiful harvest for our people.”

You swallow hard, trying to steady your voice. “Max, listen to me. I need you to be strong.”

His struggles subside slightly as he focuses on your words.

“Remember what we talked about?” You continue. “About the stars?”

Max’s brow furrows in confusion for a moment before his eyes widen in recognition. “The cycle,” he breathes.

You nod, forcing a smile. “This isn’t the end. We’ll find each other again. I promise.”

“No,” Max shakes his head, tears streaming down his face. “I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

The priest clears his throat impatiently. “We must proceed.”

Your father gently guides you towards the altar. You resist the urge to look back at Max, knowing it will only make this harder.

“Wait!” Max calls out. “Just ... just let me say goodbye. Please.”

The king hesitates, then nods to the guards. They release Max, who rushes up the steps towards you.

He reaches you, cupping your face in his hands. “I love you,” he whispers fiercely. “In this life and every life to come.”

You lean into his touch, memorizing the feeling of his skin against yours. “I love you too. Always.”

Max’s lips crash into yours, desperate and salty with tears. For a moment, the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you.

Then rough hands are pulling you apart. Max struggles, but the guards drag him back down the steps.

“No!” He roars. “You can’t do this! She’s everything to me!”

You force yourself to look away, focusing on the altar before you. The priest approaches, a gleaming dagger in his hand.

“Oh great gods,” he begins to chant. “Accept this offering and bless our lands.”

You close your eyes, trying to block out Max’s anguished cries. You think of stars, of cycles, of promises of reunion.

The dagger plunges, and pain explodes through your body. As darkness creeps in at the edges of your vision, you hear Max’s voice, raw with grief.

“I’ll find you,” he vows. “In the next life, and the next, and the next. We’ll be together again. I swear it.”

As your consciousness fades, you cling to that promise. This isn’t the end, you tell yourself. It’s just the beginning of a much longer story.

Your last thought before the world goes black is of Max’s eyes, filled with love and determination. Somehow, you know that this is not goodbye — it’s just until next time.

London, 1542

The heavy oak door of your chambers creaks open, and you look up from your embroidery, heart leaping at the sight of Max slipping inside. His eyes dart nervously around the room before settling on you.

“My lady,” he whispers urgently, crossing the room in quick strides. “We must speak.”

You set aside your needlework, rising to meet him. “What is it? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

He takes your hands in his, his touch sending a familiar thrill through you despite the gravity in his expression. “It’s worse than that, I’m afraid. I’ve heard whispers in the court ...”

Your breath catches. “What kind of whispers?”

Max’s jaw clenches. “Accusations. Terrible ones. They’re saying you’ve been unfaithful to the king.”

You gasp, shaking your head vehemently. “That’s absurd! I would never-”

“I know,” Max interrupts, squeezing your hands. “But the truth matters little when it comes to Henry’s jealousy. You know how he is.”

A chill runs down your spine as you remember the fate of the king’s previous wives. “What am I to do?”

Max’s eyes blaze with determination. “We’ll run away. Tonight. I have friends who can help us reach the coast. From there, we can sail to France or-”

The sound of heavy footsteps in the corridor cuts him off. You both freeze, staring at the door in mounting dread.

“Quick,” you hiss, pushing Max towards a tapestry-covered alcove. “Hide!”

He resists for a moment. “I won’t leave you-”

“You must,” you insist. “If they find you here, it will only make things worse.”

Reluctantly, Max ducks behind the tapestry just as the door bursts open. The king’s guards pour in, led by Thomas Cromwell himself.

“My lady,” Cromwell says with a cold smile. “I’m afraid you must come with us.”

You lift your chin, summoning every ounce of royal dignity. “On what grounds, Lord Cromwell?”

His smile doesn’t waver. “Treason, my lady. His Majesty has evidence of your ... indiscretions.”

“That’s impossible,” you protest. “I’ve been nothing but faithful to the king.”

Cromwell gestures to the guards. “Search the room. Thoroughly.”

Your heart pounds as they begin tearing through your belongings. You silently pray that Max remains hidden and undetected.

“This is outrageous,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I demand to speak to the king himself.”

“His Majesty has no desire to see you,” Cromwell replies. “The evidence speaks for itself.”

One of the guards approaches, holding a folded piece of parchment. “My lord, we found this hidden in her jewelry box.”

Cromwell snatches it, his eyes scanning the contents. His smirk widens. “Well, well. A love letter, it seems. Quite damning, wouldn’t you agree?”

You shake your head in disbelief. “That’s not mine. I’ve never seen it before!”

“A poor defense, my lady,” Cromwell tuts. “Come now, we mustn’t keep the Tower waiting.”

As the guards move to seize you, Max bursts from his hiding place. “Stop!” He shouts. “She’s innocent!”

Cromwell’s eyebrows raise in mock surprise. “And who might you be, young man?”

Max stands tall, his gaze unwavering. “I can vouch for the queen’s innocence.”

“Can you now?” Cromwell’s tone is dangerously soft. “And how, pray tell, would you know such a thing?”

You see the trap too late. “Max, don’t-”

But he’s already speaking. “Because I’ve been watching over her. Protecting her. I would know if she had been unfaithful.”

Cromwell’s eyes glitter with triumph. “Watching over her, you say? How ... intimate. Guards, seize him as well.”

“No!” You cry out as the guards grab Max. “He’s done nothing wrong!”

“On the contrary,” Cromwell replies. “He’s just confessed to an inappropriate relationship with the queen. That’s treason, my dear.”

Max struggles against the guards. “It’s not like that! I love her, yes, but we’ve never-”

“Enough!” Cromwell snaps. “Take them both to the Tower. His Majesty will decide their fate.”

As the guards drag you from the room, your eyes meet Max’s. In that moment, a strange sense of déjà vu washes over you. You’ve been here before, somehow. Torn apart by forces beyond your control.

“It’s happening again,” Max says softly, his eyes wide with realization.

You nod, a sad smile touching your lips. “The cycle continues.”

“What are you two babbling about?” Cromwell demands.

Neither of you answer. What could you say that he would understand?

As you’re led through the winding corridors of the palace, Max’s voice carries to you. “I’ll find a way to save you. I swear it.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you call back, your voice catching.

“I kept the last one, didn’t I?” He replies. “I found you again.”

Memories flood your mind — hazy images of another life, another time. A temple, a sacrifice, a vow made in desperation.

“So you did,” you whisper.

The journey to the Tower passes in a blur. Before you know it, you’re being locked in a cold, damp cell. Through the small barred window, you can see the executioner’s block in the courtyard below.

Days pass. You pace your cell, alternating between fear and a strange sense of calm. This isn’t the end, you remind yourself. Somehow, you know it to be true.

When they come for you, you hold your head high. As you’re led to the block, you scan the crowd, searching for Max’s face. You spot him, restrained by guards, his face a mask of anguish.

“I love you,” he mouths.

“Until next time,” you reply silently.

As you kneel at the block, you close your eyes. You think of stars and cycles, of promises kept across lifetimes. The axe falls, and darkness descends.

Your last conscious thought is a mixture of sorrow and hope. This chapter may be ending, but your story with Max is far from over. In another time, another place, you’ll find each other again. The wheel turns, and the cycle continues.

Florence, 1633

The flickering candlelight casts long shadows across the cluttered study. You pace nervously, your skirts swishing against the worn floorboards. Max hunches over his desk, quill scratching furiously across parchment.

“Max,” you plead, “please reconsider. It’s not too late to recant.”

He looks up, his eyes bright with fervor. “I can’t, my love. The truth is too important.”

You move to his side, resting a hand on his shoulder. “More important than your life?”

Max covers your hand with his, his touch warm and familiar. “Some truths are worth dying for.”

“And what about living for?” You counter. “What about us?”

He stands, pulling you into an embrace. “Everything I do, I do for us. For a world where we can live freely, without the shackles of ignorance.”

You bury your face in his chest, inhaling his scent of ink and parchment. “I fear those shackles are stronger than you think.”

A sharp knock at the door makes you both jump. Max moves to answer it, but you grab his arm.

“Don’t,” you whisper. “It could be them.”

Max’s jaw sets stubbornly. “If it is, hiding won’t change anything.”

He strides to the door and throws it open. A young man stands there, panting heavily.

“Master,” he gasps. “They’re coming. The Inquisition. You must flee!”

Max’s face pales, but his voice remains steady. “Thank you for the warning, Giovanni. You should go before they arrive.”

The young man nods and disappears into the night. Max turns to you, his expression grim.

“You should go too,” he says softly. “There’s no reason for both of us to face their wrath.”

You shake your head fiercely. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Please,” Max implores. “I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you because of me.”

“And I couldn’t bear to abandon you,” you retort. “We’re in this together, remember?”

A ghost of a smile touches Max’s lips. “Always.”

You help him gather his most important papers and instruments, working quickly in the oppressive silence. As Max secures the last of his writings, you hear the ominous sound of marching feet approaching.

“It’s too late,” you breathe.

Max squares his shoulders. “Then we face them with dignity.”

The door bursts open, and armored men pour into the small study. At their head is Cardinal Bellarmine, his face a mask of righteous anger.

“Apostate,” he intones. “You stand accused of heresy against the Holy Church.”

Max steps forward, his voice calm. “I stand accused of seeking the truth, Your Eminence.”

The Cardinal’s eyes narrow. “You spread dangerous lies. You claim the Earth is not the center of God’s creation!”

“I claim only what the evidence suggests,” Max counters. “The movements of the heavens themselves tell us-”

“Blasphemy!” Bellarmine roars. “You would elevate your flawed observations above the word of God?”

You can’t stay silent any longer. “My lord Cardinal, surely God gave us minds to seek understanding. How can the pursuit of knowledge be heresy?”

Bellarmine’s gaze snaps to you. “And who is this who dares to question the Church’s judgment?”

Max steps protectively in front of you. “Leave her out of this. She’s done nothing wrong.”

“She defends a heretic,” the Cardinal sneers. “That alone is cause for suspicion.”

You feel a chill run down your spine, but you stand your ground. “I defend a good man who seeks only to understand the wonders of God’s creation.”

Bellarmine waves dismissively. “Take them both. We’ll sort out her involvement later.”

As the guards move to seize you, Max erupts into action. He grabs a heavy tome from his desk and hurls it at the nearest guard, then pushes you towards the window.

“Run!” He shouts. “I’ll hold them off!”

You hesitate, torn between fleeing and staying by his side. In that moment of indecision, a guard grabs you roughly by the arm.

“No!” Max cries out, lunging towards you.

Another guard intercepts him, slamming the butt of his halberd into Max’s stomach. He crumples to the ground, gasping for air.

“Stop!” You plead. “We’ll come peacefully. Just don’t hurt him.”

Bellarmine smirks. “A wise decision. Though I’m afraid it’s too late for leniency.”

As the guards bind your hands, you lock eyes with Max. There’s a strange, sad recognition in his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I thought this time would be different.”

You shake your head, a bittersweet smile on your lips. “It’s not your fault. It never is.”

Bellarmine looks between you, confusion evident on his face. “What nonsense is this?”

Neither of you answer.

You’re led from the study, through the torch-lit streets to the forbidding walls of the Inquisition’s headquarters. As you’re separated and thrown into different cells, Max’s voice carries to you.

“I’ll find you again. I swear it.”

“In this life or the next,” you call back, your voice breaking.

Days blur together in your dank cell. You’re questioned relentlessly about Max’s work, about your involvement. You reveal nothing, clinging to the hope that your silence might somehow spare him.

When they finally come for you, you know it’s not good news. You’re led to a small courtyard where a pyre has been erected. Your heart sinks as you see Max already tied to the stake, his face bruised but defiant.

“Heathen,” Bellarmine proclaims, “you have been found guilty of heresy. Do you repent your sins?”

Max’s eyes find yours in the crowd. “My only sin,” he says clearly, “is loving truth more than dogma.”

The Cardinal’s face darkens. “Then may God have mercy on your soul. Light the pyre.”

As the flames begin to lick at Max’s feet, you can’t contain yourself any longer. You break free from your guards and run towards the pyre.

“No!” You scream. “Max!”

He looks at you, his eyes full of love and sorrow. “Until next time, my love. We’ll get it right someday.”

The guards grab you, dragging you back as the flames engulf Max. His agonized cries pierce the air, but his gaze never leaves yours.

As the light fades from his eyes, you feel a piece of your soul shatter. But deep within, a tiny spark of hope remains. This isn’t the end, you tell yourself. It can’t be.

Somewhere, somewhen, you’ll find each other again. The wheel turns, the cycle continues, and your love endures beyond death itself.

Atlantic Ocean, 1912

The grand ballroom of the Titanic thrums with life, an orchestra playing a lively waltz as couples twirl across the polished floor. You stand at the edge of the crowd, your gloved hands fidgeting with your beaded gown. Your eyes scan the room, searching for one face in particular.

“Looking for someone?” A familiar voice asks behind you.

You turn, a smile lighting up your face as you see Max, dashing in his tailored suit. “There you are! I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost.”

Max grins, offering you his arm. “Even on a ship this size? Never. Though I must admit, I did take a wrong turn or two.”

You laugh, taking his arm. “Well, I’m glad you found your way eventually. I’ve been dying to dance with you all evening.”

As Max leads you onto the dance floor, a strange sense of déjà vu washes over you. You’ve danced with him before, you think. In grand halls and humble taverns, across centuries ...

“What’s that look for?” Max asks, pulling you from your reverie as he places a hand on your waist.

You shake your head, smiling. “Nothing. Just ... happy, I suppose.”

He beams at you as you begin to waltz. “As am I. Being here with you, it feels ... right. Like everything’s fallen into place.”

You nod, leaning into him slightly. “I know exactly what you mean.”

As you dance, the world seems to fade away. It’s just you and Max, moving in perfect synchronicity. But the spell is broken as a violent shudder runs through the ship.

Max steadies you as you stumble. “What was that?”

Around you, other passengers are looking around in confusion. The music has stopped, the musicians exchanging worried glances.

“I’m not sure,” you reply, a sense of unease growing in your stomach. “Perhaps we should-”

Your words are cut off as a ship’s officer bursts into the ballroom. “Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm. We’ve struck an iceberg, but there’s no immediate danger. As a precaution, we ask that you all put on life vests and make your way to the boat deck.”

A ripple of nervous chatter sweeps through the crowd. Max’s grip on your hand tightens.

“We should go,” he says urgently. “Now.”

You nod, allowing him to lead you through the increasingly panicked throng. As you make your way through the corridors, the ship’s list becomes more pronounced.

“This is bad,” Max mutters, helping you navigate a particularly steep section. “Much worse than they’re letting on.”

You reach your cabin, quickly donning life vests over your evening wear. As you step back into the corridor, you’re met with a tide of frightened passengers.

“We need to get to the boat deck,” Max says, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. “Stay close to me.”

You push through the crowd, the ship’s groans and creaks growing louder with each passing moment. When you finally reach the deck, chaos greets you. Officers are struggling to maintain order as passengers clamor for spots in the too-few lifeboats.

“Women and children first!” An officer shouts over the din.

Max turns to you, his face pale but determined. “You need to get on a boat.”

You shake your head vehemently. “Not without you.”

“Please,” he begs, cupping your face in his hands. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

A memory flashes through your mind — Max saying those same words in another time, another place. Always trying to save you.

“And I couldn’t bear to leave you,” you insist. “We stay together. No matter what.”

Max’s eyes search yours for a long moment before he nods. “Together, then.”

As the night wears on, it becomes clear that there won’t be enough lifeboats for everyone. You and Max help where you can, assisting women and children into the boats. The temperature drops, your breath visible in the frigid air.

“I think that’s the last one,” Max says as you watch the final lifeboat disappear into the darkness.

You look around the rapidly tilting deck. Those who remain are a mix of resigned, terrified, and in denial.

“What do we do now?” You ask, your voice small.

Max takes your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. “We face it together. Like we always have.”

As the ship’s stern begins to rise, you and Max make your way towards the railing. The screech of twisting metal fills the air as the Titanic starts to break apart.

“Max,” you say, your voice trembling, “I’m scared.”

He pulls you close, his arms strong around you. “I know. But remember, this isn’t the end. Not really.”

You look up at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you feel it?” He asks. “The familiarity? Like we’ve been here before?”

As you stare into his eyes, flashes of memory assault you. A temple in ancient Greece. A Tudor court. A Renaissance study. Always you and Max. Always torn apart.

“The cycle,” you whisper.

Max nods, a sad smile on his face. “We’ll get it right someday. I promise.”

The ship lurches violently, and you cling to each other as you’re thrown into the icy Atlantic. The shock of the cold water drives the breath from your lungs.

“Max!” You gasp, struggling to keep your head above water.

“I’m here,” he calls back, swimming towards you. “Hold on to me.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, your limbs already growing numb from the cold. Around you, the cries of other passengers pierce the night.

“It’s so cold,” you murmur, your teeth chattering.

Max holds you tighter. “I know, love. Just stay with me.”

As the minutes tick by, the cries around you grow fewer. You can feel your strength ebbing, your grip on Max weakening.

“Hey,” Max says, his voice hoarse. “Stay awake. Look at the stars with me.”

You force your eyes open, gazing up at the crystal-clear sky. “They’re beautiful,” you manage.

“Just like you,” Max replies. “In every life, in every time.”

You smile weakly. “You always were a charmer.”

“And you always saw right through me,” he chuckles, the sound turning into a cough.

As your vision begins to dim, you summon the last of your strength to speak. “Max? Promise you’ll find me again?”

His lips, blue with cold, press against your forehead. “Always. In this life and the next, and all the ones after.”

The cold fades, replaced by a spreading warmth. As consciousness slips away, your last thought is of Max’s eyes, filled with love and the promise of reunion.

The wheel turns. The cycle continues. And somewhere, in another time, another place, two souls prepare to find each other once more.

Washington DC, 1968

The air is thick with tension and the acrid smell of tear gas. You stand at the front of the crowd, your hand tightly gripping a homemade sign that reads “MAKE LOVE, NOT WAR.” The chants of the protesters around you swell and ebb like waves crashing against the shore of the Lincoln Memorial.

“Hey,” a familiar voice calls out. You turn to see Max pushing his way through the crowd, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You smile, relief washing over you. “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t make it.”

Max reaches you, his hand finding yours. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away. Though the police barricades nearly did.”

You squeeze his hand. “I’m glad you’re here. This feels ... important. Like we’re on the brink of something.”

He nods, his eyes scanning the growing crowd. “I know what you mean. It’s like the whole world is holding its breath.”

As if on cue, a new chant starts up. “Hey, hey, LBJ! How many kids did you kill today?”

You join in, your voice blending with the thousands around you. Max’s deeper tone resonates beside you, sending a shiver down your spine that has nothing to do with the autumn chill.

Suddenly, there’s a commotion at the edge of the crowd. You stand on tiptoe, trying to see what’s happening.

“What is it?” Max asks, concern etching his features.

“I’m not sure,” you reply. “It looks like ... oh no.”

A line of police officers in riot gear is advancing on the crowd, batons at the ready.

Max’s grip on your hand tightens. “We should fall back. This could get ugly.”

But you stand your ground, shaking your head. “No. We can’t let them intimidate us. We have a right to be here, to make our voices heard.”

“I know,” Max says, his voice tight with worry. “But I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

As the police line gets closer, tensions in the crowd rise. Someone throws a bottle, and it shatters at the feet of an officer. In an instant, chaos erupts.

“Disperse immediately!” A voice booms over a megaphone. “This is an unlawful assembly!”

But the crowd doesn’t disperse. If anything, the chants grow louder, more defiant. You feel Max tugging at your arm.

“Come on,” he urges. “We’ve made our point. Let’s go before-”

His words are cut off by a loud bang. For a moment, you think it’s a firecracker. Then you see the tear gas canister arcing through the air.

“Gas!” Someone shouts, and panic ripples through the crowd.

Max pulls you close, covering your mouth and nose with his bandana. “We need to move, now!”

You nod, coughing as the acrid gas begins to sting your eyes. Together, you push through the panicked crowd, trying to reach the edge of the park.

But the police are closing in from all sides. You see batons swinging, hear the cries of pain and anger from your fellow protesters.

“This way,” Max says, pulling you towards a gap in the police line.

You’re almost there when you hear a scream behind you. Turning, you see a young woman on the ground, an officer standing over her with his baton raised.

Before you can think, you’re moving towards them. “Stop!” You yell. “Leave her alone!”

“Y/N, no!” Max calls after you, but you’re already out of his reach.

You throw yourself between the fallen woman and the officer, your arms outstretched. “Please,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “She’s not a threat. We’re peaceful protesters.”

The officer hesitates, his baton still raised. For a moment, you think he might listen. Then you see his eyes harden behind his visor.

“I said disperse!” He shouts, bringing the baton down.

You close your eyes, bracing for the impact. But it never comes. Instead, you hear a grunt of pain and open your eyes to see Max in front of you, taking the blow meant for you.

“Max!” You cry out as he crumples to the ground.

You drop to your knees beside him, cradling his head. “Max, can you hear me?”

He groans, his eyes fluttering open. “Are you okay?” He asks, his voice weak.

You nod, tears streaming down your face. “I’m fine. Why did you do that?”

A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “Couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I?”

Despite everything, you can’t help but laugh. “You idiot,” you say fondly.

The moment is shattered by another round of tear gas canisters landing nearby. The acrid smoke billows around you, making it hard to breathe.

“We need to get out of here,” you say, trying to help Max to his feet.

But as you stand, you feel a sharp pain in your side. Looking down, you see a growing red stain on your shirt.

“Y/N?” Max’s voice sounds far away. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You stumble, your legs giving out. Max catches you, lowering you gently to the ground.

“Oh God,” he says, his face pale with shock. “You’ve been hit.”

You look down again, seeing the bullet embedded in your side. The pain is distant, almost unreal.

“It’s not so bad,” you try to reassure him, but your voice comes out weak and shaky.

Max presses his hand to the wound, trying to stem the bleeding. “Help!” He shouts. “We need a medic!”

But his cries are lost in the chaos around you. The world seems to be fading, growing dim at the edges.

“Max,” you whisper, reaching up to touch his face. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head fiercely. “Don’t you dare apologize. You’re going to be fine, you hear me? We’re going to get through this.”

You smile sadly, a strange sense of déjà vu washing over you. “We always say that, don’t we?”

Max’s brow furrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Every time,” you murmur, your strength fading. “We always think this time will be different.”

Understanding dawns in Max’s eyes, along with a deep, aching sorrow. “The cycle,” he whispers.

You nod weakly. “But it’s okay. We’ll get another chance.”

“No,” Max says, his voice breaking. “Not again. Please, Y/N, stay with me.”

But you can feel yourself slipping away. The pain is gone now, replaced by a spreading warmth.

“Find me again,” you breathe, your eyes starting to close. “Promise me.”

Max’s tears fall on your face as he leans close. “I promise. In this life or the next, I’ll always find you.”

As consciousness fades, your last thought is of Max’s eyes, filled with love and the weight of lifetimes. The wheel turns, the cycle continues, and somewhere, two souls prepare for yet another chance at forever.

Monaco, 2024

The soft morning light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the bedroom. You’re curled up against Max, his arm draped protectively over your waist. The steady rhythm of his breathing is a comforting constant, one you’ve grown accustomed to over the years.

A gentle weight lands on the bed, followed by a soft meow. You open your eyes to see Jimmy padding across the duvet.

“Morning, Jimmy,” you whisper, reaching out to scratch behind his ears. He purrs contentedly, settling down in the small space between you and Max.

The movement stirs Max from his slumber. He blinks sleepily, a smile spreading across his face as he focuses on you. “Good morning, schatje,” he murmurs, his voice still rough with sleep.

You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Morning, champ. Sleep well?”

He nods, pulling you closer. “Always do with you by my side.”

As if on cue, another weight lands on the bed. Sassy makes her presence known with a demanding meow.

Max chuckles, reaching over to pet her. “Good morning to you too, princess.”

You can’t help but laugh. “I think someone’s jealous of all the attention Jimmy’s getting.”

“Can’t have that, can we?” Max says, scooping Sassy up and placing her on his chest. She immediately starts kneading, purring loudly.

You watch them with a fond smile, a wave of contentment washing over you. “I love this,” you say softly. “Just ... all of this.”

Max turns his head to look at you, his eyes filled with warmth. “Me too. Sometimes I can hardly believe it’s real, you know?”

You nod, understanding completely. “I know what you mean. It’s like ... we’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

“Lifetimes,” Max agrees, a hint of something ancient in his gaze.

You both fall silent for a moment, lost in memories that feel more like dreams — flashes of other lives, other times, always reaching for each other but never quite able to hold on.

Jimmy stretches, breaking the spell. You laugh as he nearly pushes Sassy off Max’s chest in the process.

“Alright, you two,” Max says, gently moving the cats aside. “I think it’s time for breakfast.”

As if understanding his words, both cats leap off the bed and head for the door, meowing insistently.

You groan, burying your face in Max’s shoulder. “Five more minutes?”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You know they won’t let us rest until they’re fed.”

“True,” you sigh, reluctantly sitting up. “I suppose we should get up anyway. Don’t you have that interview today?”

Max nods, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Yeah, in a couple of hours. Nothing too intense though, just a quick chat about the next race.”

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, stretching. “Want me to make coffee while you feed the furry overlords?”

“Sounds perfect,” Max says, getting up and pulling on a t-shirt. He pauses at the door, looking back at you with a soft smile. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

You feel a warmth bloom in your chest, the same feeling you get every time he looks at you like that. “You might have mentioned it once or twice,” you tease. “But I never get tired of hearing it.”

Max crosses the room in two quick strides, pulling you into a deep kiss. When he pulls back, you’re both a little breathless.

“I love you,” he says, his forehead resting against yours. “More than I ever thought possible.”

You cup his face in your hands, thumb tracing the line of his jaw. “I love you too, Max. Always have, always will.”

A loud meow from the hallway breaks the moment. You both laugh, the spell broken but the warmth lingering.

“Duty calls,” Max says with a wink, heading out to tend to the cats.

You make your way to the kitchen, starting the coffee maker and pulling out mugs. As the rich aroma fills the air, you can hear Max in the other room, talking to the cats as he fills their bowls.

“There you go, Jimmy. Easy, Sassy, there’s plenty for both of you.”

You smile to yourself, struck once again by how perfect this all feels. It’s not just the quiet moments like this morning — it’s the way Max lights up when he talks about racing, the pride in his eyes when he brings home another trophy. It’s the way he holds you after a particularly rough day, or the sound of his laughter when you’re goofing around together.

Max joins you in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you pour the coffee. “Smells amazing,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your neck.

You lean back into him, savoring the moment. “The coffee or me?”

“Both,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You turn in his arms, handing him his mug. “So, what’s on the agenda after your interview?”

Max takes a sip of coffee, thinking. “Not much, actually. I was thinking maybe we could have a quiet day in? Watch a movie, order takeout?”

“Sounds perfect,” you say, your smile widening. “I’ll even let you pick the movie this time.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Even if it’s another racing documentary?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Even then. Though I reserve the right to fall asleep on your shoulder if it gets too technical.”

“Deal,” Max grins, pulling you close for another kiss.

As you stand there in the kitchen, coffee in hand and cats weaving between your legs, you’re struck by a profound sense of rightness. This is what you’ve been searching for, life after life. This quiet, domestic bliss with the man you love.

“What are you thinking about?” Max asks, noticing your thoughtful expression.

You smile, leaning into him. “Just ... how happy I am. How perfect this all is.”

Max’s arms tighten around you. “It really is, isn’t it? Sometimes I wonder if I’m dreaming.”

You pinch his arm lightly, laughing at his mock-offended expression. “Definitely not dreaming.”

“Good,” he says, his voice soft and sincere. “Because I never want to wake up from this.”

As you stand there in the morning light, surrounded by the life you’ve built together, you silently thank whatever force has finally allowed you and Max to find your happily ever after.

The wheel has turned, the cycle has ended, and at last, your souls have found their home.

[shuafiles]

lie to girls [l.jn]

you don't have to lie to girls. if they like you, they'll just lie to themselves.

MDNI, 18+

SUMMARY | it was hard watching jeno struggle with his relationship, but it was even harder when he ran to you for comfort every time. especially when you, his long-time best friend, have been in love with him for the longest time. but when jeno starts lying about where he’s going and who he’s with, you realize the biggest lie might be the one you’re telling yourself—that he’ll ever choose you. or girls will cry, and girls will lie, and girls will lose their goddamn minds for you.

PAIRING | bff!jeno x afab!reader (x univ student!jaemin)

CONTENT | university!au, best friends to ?, angst, infidelity (no i do not condone this), swearing, miscommunication, drinking, smut (fingering, oral [f receiving], nipple play, unprotected sex [dont do this], dirty talk, few degrading names, perv!jeno, voyeurism? [listening in], masturbation, cream pie), lowercase intended, doesn’t end in angst

FEATURING | nct dream, nct 127’s jaehyun, aespa’s karina & winter, le sserafim’s chaewon & yunjin, txt’s soobin, the boyz’s eric

WORDS | 25.9k

PLAYLIST | lie to girls – sabrina carpenter, everytime – ariana grande, focus – niki, wildflower – billie eilish, cry – cigarettes after sex

A/N | quick disclaimer that this is all fiction, and my depiction of the characters i used is far from reality. i wanted to make the characters (mostly y/n and jeno) a bit flawed but idk dont think too heavily and please read with an open heart and mind. enjoy! likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated (leaving feedback would be great!) <3

“hey.” jeno greeted you, standing at your front door, which only meant one thing. they fought again.

you pushed the door wider, letting him inside. he looked like a mess, his shoulders slumped, dark bags around his eyes, hair disheveled. even from afar, you could tell he was going through something. his phone was in his hand, checking for notifications, but he let out a huge sigh when the home screen was empty.

“do i even want to know?” you prodded, eyes watching him as he plopped down on the couch. his head tilted back on the headrest, mind filled with thoughts.

“you know how she is.” jeno mumbled, rubbing his face with his hands. “said she needed some space.”

unfortunately, i do know how she is. jeno’s girlfriend, karina. they’ve been together since first year of college when jeno met her at some random party. they were the kind of couple on campus that, at first glance, seemed perfect, but you knew all too well what kind of chaos haunted them in private. you were too familiar with how she behaved with jeno; most of the time, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

jeno didn’t even have to say anything when you saw him at your front door. you have grown accustomed to this pattern: the same heartache, apologies, and cycle of hope and disappointment. and every time it occurred, jeno ended up here—at your door, at your couch, sulking.

you wanted nothing more than to scold jeno for letting himself get run over by her, but you kept your lips sealed. deciding that giving him comfort and support was what he needed right now.

“again, huh?” you sat down on the opposite side of him, tucking your legs beneath you.

“i don’t even know what that means, y/n.” jeno sighed, running his hand through his hair. he lifted his head to face you, gaze soft as he held eye contact with you. “one minute, everything’s perfect, and we’re fine, but suddenly, i’ve apparently done something wrong, and she won't even tell me.” his voice cracked, hopelessness evident in his tone. it pained you to see him like this. how many times is he going to let her do this to him?

“well, did you do something wrong?” you asked, but you knew jeno too well, he wouldn’t do anything to sabotage his relationship. sure, he has made mistakes in the past, but he was a good person, a good friend, and a good lover, you suppose.

jeno stayed silent for a moment, recalling if he had done something to make his girlfriend upset. “i–no, at least i don’t think so.” he shook his head, “i’ve just been busy with classes, but i always make time for her. and everything we’re together, i always try to make it special. you know?”

you nodded along to his words, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. you have heard this story countless times, you could probably recite it to him. it wasn’t unusual for karina to act like this; she’d get upset over something vague, and then jeno would beat himself up for it, but he’d still bend over backward to get her back.

“maybe she’s just going through something?” you said, trying to think of what to say to ease his mind.

you and karina were acquaintances at best. it’s not like you didn’t try to be her friend, but something about her attitude seems so off-putting. you weren’t entirely sure if karina was fond of you either. of course, you never told jeno any of these. you knew he wouldn’t listen, not when it comes to her. he loves her. he’d return to her every time, like a moth to a flame. and you’d be there, picking up the pieces when he got burned.

“i wish she’d just tell me what’s on her mind instead of leaving me wondering what i did wrong.” his face twisted into frustration with a mix of confusion.

“jen, you know i can’t help you if you don’t tell her what you’re feeling.” this time, you couldn’t hold back. “you’re supposed to tell her these, not me.”

jeno flinched at your words, somehow unsatisfied with your advice. “yeah… you’re right.”

you watched his expression, his eyebrows furrowed while he was deep in thought. “i’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted to hear.” you hesitated, knowing you were treading dangerous waters. “i just think… you deserve someone who actually appreciates you.”

jeno stayed silent, processing your words as if he hadn’t told himself that a million times. but for some stupid reason, he couldn’t keep it in his head. he looked down at his phone, tapping the screen once more, but to his disappointment, there was still nothing. “i know you’re just looking out for me, y/n. but… i just can’t give up on her. not yet.”

and just like that, you could feel him slipping away, back into her orbit, leaving you alone with all the things you couldn’t say, wondering when he would run back to you again.

“class dismissed.” the professor announced loudly, making you snap out of your dozy state. you weren't even sure if you paid attention to class today.

you quickly gathered your stuff, students leaving the lecture hall one by one. your phone buzzed in your pocket, fishing for it, you read the message from mark.

mark: yo dude heard jaehyun’s throwing a party tomorrow, wanna come? mark: also i think i saw jeno and she-who-must-not-be-named together

struggling to balance your laptop in one hand and type on your phone with the other; you barely noticed a figure stepping in front of you—until they bumped into you, sending you off balance.

“oh my god!” a familiar voice shrieked, karina. you lifted your head to see her arms linked with jeno. her faced mixed with shock and annoyance.

“sorry!” you mumbled, quickly gathering your belongings to be more composed.

“hey, y/n.” jeno smiled at you, your chest tightened at his bright face. after he visited you a week ago, you haven’t heard much from him, aside from his occasional responses in the group chat you share with mark and haechan. all you knew was he was busy trying to get his girlfriend back. you weren’t sure if they made up, given that he hadn’t contacted you at all, but seeing as they were currently inseparable, you could probably guess their relationship right now.

karina patted down her skirt and top as if she were the one who practically fell. “y/n!” as if it was on cue, she flashed you a smile. “haven’t seen you in a hot minute. you going to jaehyun’s tomorrow?” you felt sick to your stomach. something was unsettling about how karina spoke to you, or maybe it was all in your head, and you were thinking too deeply about it.

you hesitated, glancing down at your phone, rereading mark’s message. did you really want to spend an entire night seeing jeno and karina pressed up against each other now that they were back together?

“i might.” you sent her a small smile, “mark and haechan are going, i think i’ll tag along.” glancing at jeno for a second, who was intently staring at you. a pit formed in your stomach at the sight of him, he looked better compared to last week—more relaxed, at ease.

“great!” karina clapped her hands together, “we’ll see you there.” she took Jeno’s hand, pulling him away with a little more force than necessary. he stumbled slightly, laughing as they disappeared down the hall, his voice echoing through the space and leaving a familiar ache in your chest.

you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the interaction, and texted mark back.

you: where are u? need someone to talk to

“are you even surprised at this point?” mark let out, mouth filled with the sandwich he was munching on. you were both seated in the field of the campus, deciding to reconnect with mother nature after the encounter you just had. you told mark about how you saw them together and how jeno looked happy again. you stayed silent at his comment, closing your eyes as you basked in the sunlight. “how’d you feel seeing them together?”

mark knew you too well. he was one of the people you confided in about your feelings for jeno. him and chaewon, your roommate. in the same way, jeno kept running to you when he was heartbroken, you ran to mark and chaewon whenever you were in the same cycle.

just as jeno used you as his safe place, you had mark and chaewon. they were the ones who listened when you cried, over and over, thinking that maybe this time he’d see you differently. and every time, they were the ones who held you every time you fell down.

you were in love with jeno. how could you not be? you grew up together, spending your childhood years nearly every second of the day. you were there to witness every version of him—his awkward phase in middle school with braces and bowl haircut, the high school years when he was navigating through puberty, and now, the college student jeno admired by everyone.

you were there for it all.

you were six when you witnessed jeno’s first tooth falling out. you couldn’t forget the way the blood dripped from his mouth, making you bawl, yet he couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of the tooth on his hand.

you were ten when jeno first learned how to ride a bike. he came knocking on your door to show off his skills, but he fell and scraped his knees within five seconds of riding it.

you were thirteen when jeno came to you when he had his heart was broken. he wrote a letter to his crush admitting his feelings for her, but he came crying to you when he got rejected for the first time in his life.

you were eighteen when you and jeno sat in front of your laptops, awaiting the email of the university you had both applied to. you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around each other and squeal when you found out you both had been accepted.

however, you were sixteen when you first well in love with jeno. it was during prom when you got stood up by your date. jeno saw you sulking in the corner of the room, and without hesitation, he ditched his prom date to be with you for the rest of the night. he brought you to the dance floor and danced with you through every song.

every adult in your life was convinced you two would end up getting married due to your closeness, which he would always deny. each phase, each moment with jeno, made you realize how hard you were falling for him. he was your best friend, the only constant in your life. somewhere along the lines, you realized that friendship wasn’t enough for you.

but for jeno, it was the complete opposite. sure, he loved you, loved having you around, but there was this line between the two of you—one he never dared to cross. he was focused on finding love elsewhere, and it never occurred to him to look for it in the person who was always in front of him. you would be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t pain you that he has never once looked for love in you.

“does it even matter?” you sighed, feeling the sun dance across your skin. “you know he’ll always run back to her.”

“yeah, because you never told him how you felt.” mark scoffed, setting his half-eaten sandwich down while wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “who knows? maybe he feels the same.”

“don’t.” you warned him, sending him a glare while he just sheepishly shrugged his shoulders. it was too painful to entertain the idea, too exhausting to keep hoping.  you were just his best friend, the person he ran to when he needed comfort, but never the person he’d choose. you hated it. you hated waiting around like a lost puppy for him. “can we just talk about something else, please.”

mark hummed, his eyes roaming around the campus. “why don’t you let loose at jaehyun’s party tomorrow? maybe even look for someone to distract you from him.”

you chuckled, hugging your knees to your chest. “if only it were that easy.”

it’s not like you didn’t try to suppress your feelings for jeno. in fact, you did everything you could think of, even going to great lengths such as downloading a dating app—due to haechan’s insistence to attempt casual flings, kissing random strangers at parties, and even having one-night stands with people from campus. yet no matter how hard you tried, your feelings for jeno still crept up like a shadow you couldn’t escape.

there were moments where you thought you were okay and accepted that you don’t always get what you want in life—until a memory of him would hit you out of nowhere, and you’re back to square one. you get reminded of his laughter, the soft eye-smile he would give you whenever he spotted you in a crowd, and his goofy side, which only came out when he was around you. the memories haunted you whenever you least expected it, and no dating app or reckless decision could erase them.

chaewon stood in front of your closet; arms crossed against her chest as she inspected your wardrobe. you were not afraid to dress slutty, in fact, you had a fair share of provocative clothes stashed somewhere in your closet. but the way chaewon was staring at your wardrobe made you rethink all your fashion choices.

“i should really take you out shopping more often.” she mumbled, more to herself than to you. she began rummaging through the hung clothes, trying to find the perfect outfit for tonight. “you’re wasting so much potential.”

you raised an eyebrow, “i think i look fine.” watching as she pulled out different articles of clothing.

“fine isn’t going to get you laid.” chaewon turned to face you, a bunch of different colored tops in her arms. “we need something that screams, ‘fuck you, lee jeno, look what you’re missing out on.’”

you’ve mentioned to her that jeno and karina would be there as a couple again. and she—as the most supportive best friend—made it her personal mission to make you look like the hottest bitch in the party, just to flaunt what jeno had been too blind to see. she wasn’t about to let you shrink in the shadows of jeno and karina’s perfect little bubble. she wanted to make sure that all eyes would be on you.

you sat on the bed, watching her make a mess out of your closet. “i’m not even sure if i’m ready to put myself out there.” you sighed.

chaewon shot you a pointed look, the kind you’d see on your disappointed friend's face. “please. this is why we need to get you into the sluttiest clothes ever. you need to stop thinking of him and start thinking of yourself, y/n.”

chaewon’s words hung heavy in the air. she was right. you needed to stop playing the part of a background character in jeno’s life. it was getting exhausting, and you weren’t sure how long you could keep pretending like it didn’t bother you at all.

“you’re right.” you murmured, fingers playing with another.

her face lit up as she pulled out a black leather mini skirt, paired with a tight red crop top that accentuates your curves perfectly. you forgot you even owned these. “found it!” she squealed, showing you her discovery. “perfect. you look hot in red.” shaking your head at her enthusiasm, you let out a laugh. she chucked you the clothes, taking the sign to go change into them. “babe, if jeno’s dick doesn’t stand up the second he sees you in this, then maybe he is blind!” sending you a wink as you walked into the bathroom.

as you changed into your new outfit, your stomach couldn’t help but flip as you stared into your reflection. chaewon was right, you did look hot in these clothes. you felt silly for putting this much effort into jeno, who would most likely give you a half-assed hug in return.

you shook your head as you tried to push him out of your thoughts. deciding to adjust your top just enough to show off the perfect amount of cleavage. you had to focus on yourself. whether or not jeno would notice you didn’t matter anymore. you were going to have fun.

“dang! look at you.” mark whistled as you walked into the kitchen where he and haechan were situated, with drinks in their hands.

you felt your cheeks heat up under mark’s approving gaze. haechan, on the other hand, was shamelessly checking you out. “was this chaewon’s doing? because, wow, you look amazing.”

their flirting wasn’t something out of the ordinary; you were close friends who knew when to boost each other’s confidence. you couldn’t help but laugh at their comments, eyes wandering around the place. jaehyun’s place was filled with students dancing, chatting, and drinking. lights flashing from the makeshift led lights he probably put up, the crowd bathing in neon lights. the air was thick with sweat, perfume, and cheap alcohol. the music was being managed by johnny, who was the designated dj for tonight.

“looking for someone?” mark teased as he watched you scan the environment, nudging heachan with his elbow, who was smirking.

“no,” you lied, but you knew they could see right through you. “just looking around.” haechan nodded, but his expression showed that you were being dishonest. he handed you a red plastic cup filled with something that smelled fruity but strong. you silently thanked him before drowning the alcohol down your throat. you couldn’t help but wince at the intense flavor.

“you sure? not looking for someone in particular?” mark chuckled, taking a sip from his cup.

before you could come up with a response, you felt a hand on your shoulder. your body froze before turning around to see who it was. of course, it was who you expected—jeno, with his usual eye smile—enough to brighten up the room. karina, who looked as beautiful as ever, was attached to his side with a smile on her face.

your heart sank, but you kept your expression light, flashing the couple a smile while locking eyes with jeno. you nearly missed the way his eyes traveled down your frame, but you weren’t sure if it was because you were intoxicated or you just wanted him to check you out. you swore his eyes lightly widened, but his gaze returned to karina as if nothing happened.

“hey guys.” jeno greeted, eyes wandering between the three of you but landing on you. you shifted beneath his gaze but shook it off; he was your best friend, of course. you gave him and karina a polite nod, although your stomach was churning at the sight of them.

“jeno!” haechan exclaimed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, making karina lightly lose her balance. her expression grew sour at haechan’s actions. “we missed you, man.” he jokingly puckered his lips to plant a kiss on his cheek, but jeno just laughed and tried to dodge his lips.

“here you go, dude.” mark handed jeno and karina a drink which they accepted and drank. the air suddenly felt tight, your chest pounding, so you looked at mark for help. he sensed your uneasiness, placing his cup down on the counter. “alright! time to dance, y/n, come with me.” mark grabbed your hand, guiding you towards the dance floor, feeling a gaze on you as you left the kitchen.

the music was deafeningly loud, bodies bumping into each other as you navigated the living room. you mumbled an apology to every person you hit, nearly stumbling, but mark’s grip on you saved you. once you finally found a spot, you let loose, moving to the rhythm as the lights flashed overhead. haechan and chaewon shortly found you, forming a crowd as you danced.

from across the room, jeno sat on a couch with karina perched on his side, her legs on top of his lap as her fingers ran across the back of his head.

“this party’s boring.” karina complained, letting out a sigh while taking another sip from her cup.

jeno didn’t respond. he wanted nothing more than to join his friends on the dance floor, but he knew it wasn’t karina’s crowd, so he decided to stay with her to avoid getting her upset. “you’ve been awfully quiet. did i do something?”

jeno shook his head, eyes landing on hers. “no,” he grasped her hand in his. “don’t you want to dance?”

“you know i’m not into this kind of scene, jeno. why’d we even come here?” karina scoffed, pulling her legs off his lap and crossing her arms. jeno pursed his lips, the tension between them rising.

“you said you wanted to see what the fuss was about, babe.” jeno sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i thought we could have fun together with my friends for once.”

“what’s that supposed to mean!” karina snapped, but jeno was listening to someone else in particular; a burst of laughter from the dance floor caught his attention. his eyes instinctively found you, spinning with mark and chaewon, a carefree smile on your face. he nearly sulked as he watched his friends have fun while he was sitting in a corner.

karina’s eyes followed to where jeno was staring at, her expressions souring even more once he realized jeno wasn’t even listening to her. “of course,” her voice cut through his trance. “you’re not even paying attention to me.”

chaewon caught what was stirring from the corner of her eyes, nudging you. “uh oh, trouble in paradise again.”

you sneaked a glance at where they were sitting; it was easy to spot jeno in a crowd. his back was hunched, karina’s eyebrows furrowed while speaking to him. you almost felt sorry for him.

jeno’s gaze met yours, you quickly looked away to pretend you were not snooping on them, but you knew he saw you staring anyway. you shook off your thoughts, trying to focus on having fun with your friends. you hated the effect he had on you. you hated how easily he got under your skin, how his presence could unravel the fragile composure you worked so hard to maintain.

meanwhile, karina had grown tired of jeno’s distracted demeanor. she stood up abruptly, clutching her purse in her hands. “i’m leaving.” she told jeno, annoyance evident in her tone.

“babe, wait—” jeno stood up, catching her arm, but she shrugged him off.

“stay if you want. don’t bother following me. i’ll text you whenever.” she snapped before storming out of the room.

jeno stood there, watching her back, slowly immersing herself in the crowd. for some reason, he couldn’t move; he didn’t want to move. the guilt of letting her storm off alone clashed with the relief of not encountering a full-on argument. he knows his actions will probably lead to a massive fight with her again, but he was just too tired to deal with it tonight. his eyes trailed back to where you were dancing, but you were no longer there; only mark and haechan remained.

you couldn’t handle another second of witnessing jeno and karina together. you decided to escape the crowd and find an empty room to gather your thoughts. thankful that jaehyun’s house was large enough to have an unoccupied room. the noise from the party was muffled the second you shut the door behind you.

you sat on the edge of the bed, sighing as you ran your hand through your hair. get it together. you scolded yourself before plopping back on the soft mattress. tonight was supposed to be about letting loose, but the sight of jeno with her was too unbearable. the room became unbreathable as thoughts clouded your mind. you often wondered why jeno couldn’t just look at what was in front of him. the way he made you feel like a teenager pining over her crush made you laugh.

soft knocks on the door snapped you back to life. curious, you stood up and hovered over the doorknob.

“y/n?” the voice from the other side of the door called out, making your breath hitch. “are you in there?”

jeno. why was he here? how did you know you were here? you hesitated before grabbing the doorknob and turning it to open the door. there he was—clad in a black shirt with some jeans, yet he still looked like he was crafted by the gods.

“jeno? what are you doing here?” you resisted the urge to ask him why he wasn’t with his girlfriend, but from the looks of the events earlier, they probably quarreled again.

jeno didn’t respond, instead, he moved past you and into the room you were occupying. you shut the door behind you, not bothering to lock it because you saw no need to. he sat on the edge of the bed, where you had previously sat.

you were lost. you don’t know how you should act right now, and jeno seemed so defeated.

“you’ve been avoiding me all night.” jeno spoke, his eyes trained on you. you were leaning against the door, a wide distance between the two of you.

you nearly laughed at the absurdity of his statement. “i wasn’t avoiding you, jen. you were just busy with karina the entire night.” it was true, you had no intentions of ignoring him. in fact, a part of you wanted to see him, to see you. even though you convinced yourself that tonight was about you, it wouldn’t hurt if he saw the effort you put on today.

he took a second to scan your frame, his lips tugging into a small smile when he reached your face. “you look nice.” your heart leaped at his compliment. throat going dry as you thought of words to say to him.

“you’re not so bad yourself.” you chuckled. the air felt thick, you weren’t sure if it was only on your end. you couldn’t help but let your eyes roam his body as well. you knew jeno was fit—he was always diligent about his attendance at the gym—and it surely didn’t help your thoughts that you had a massive crush on him. he looked great, so hot. it made it hard to think straight.

jeno’s eyes didn’t leave yours, his gaze was so intense that it made you want to cower and run away. you cleared your throat. “why are you here, jeno?” you asked, breaking the silence. even though you already anticipated the answer.

“we fought.” you knew it. “i just… i needed to get away for a bit.” of course, why else would he seek for you?

your heart banged against your chest. you wanted to comfort him, to be his solace as you had always been, playing the part of his best friend. but at the same time, you hated being his safe space, you hated how he ran to you only when things got messy with her. it was not fair.

“does she know you’re here?” you asked cautiously, watching as his face twisted into worry.

“she left.” jeno shook his head, leaning back against the mattress with his hands bracing him. you hated how casual he was being. “said i could stay here if i wanted.” his voice laced with frustration, eyes falling to the floor.

you nodded slowly, biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from uttering words that you’d soon regret. as a best friend, you were supposed to tell him to go after her, to patch things up with her like he always does. but tonight, you wanted to be selfish. you wanted him to stay.

“and you came here?” the words left your mouth, and you regretted it immediately.

jeno lifted his head, eyes meeting yours once again. “yeah.” he said, standing up from his spot, taking careful strides towards you. your eyes widened when he approached you. “i came here.” he stopped in front of you, making you take a step backward, but your back just hit the wall, preventing you from moving any further. his frame towering over yours.

there were warning bells ringing in your ears as jeno’s eyes flicked down to your lips. it was subtle, but it was enough to send your thoughts spiraling. your mind was screaming at you to move, to say something, to do anything—but all your heart could focus on was him.

what was he doing?

he was getting dangerously close to you. his perfume hitting your nose, the familiar scent taking over you. the silence in the room was loud, his hand landing on the space next to your head, resting on the wooden door.

“jeno…” your voice came out soft, almost whisper-like, pleading him. although you weren’t entirely sure if you were pleading for him to stop or continue. your pulse racing as he leaned even closer, the gap between you shrinking. the invisible barrier you’d tried so hard to build came crashing down as his intoxicating scent painted the room with tension that grew impossibly thick.

jeno paused to stare into your eyes, looking for signs of doubt in them. his movements were cautious, as though he was giving you time to stop him—but your body betrayed you as you stood frozen in place.

this wasn’t—shouldn’t— supposed to happen. this wasn’t you. you weren’t supposed to have him this close to you—not when he wasn’t yours to begin him.

but the way he looked at you now, like you were his favorite dessert that his mother told him he couldn’t have at a grocery store, made it so hard to pull away.

“i—we can’t.” you croaked out, your voice betraying you.

“tell me to stop.” jeno mumbled, his lips barely grazing yours.

stop.

stop!

you couldn’t stop.

jeno crashed his lips to yours. his taste greeting your tongue, the flavor of alcohol mixed with something uniquely him. you gasped into the kiss, eyes shutting as your hands instinctively flew to his chest while his mouth moved against yours. he didn’t miss the opportunity to slide his tongue between your parted lips, roaming it around. you felt your knees weaken.

jeno was kissing you. and you were kissing him back. the moment you had dreamed of and longed for was becoming a reality. it was real—vivid, and more overwhelming than anything you could imagine.

his hands fell to your waist, pulling your body flush against his. your hands gripped his shirt, tugging him close to you. the heat of his body pressed against yours, sending shivers down your spine. the feeling of him getting hard against your thigh snapped you back to your senses. your eyes fluttered open with a surge of panic before pushing his body away. what have you done?

“what the fuck.” you whispered, hand reaching up to touch your lips that were on his mere seconds ago as if you couldn’t believe the affair that just occurred.

“y/n—“ jeno started, arms reaching out for you. but you pulled away from him. “hey, it’s okay.” he assured you. his expression turning soft as he watched your panicked state. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have—”

the kiss was replaying in your head, the vivid moment playing repeatedly to remind you it was immoral. but deep inside, you were floating on the clouds. jeno kissed you. you weren’t sure if you were sorry to begin with.

“i-i need to go.” you mumbled, turning around and grabbing the doorknob. jeno took a step back to give you some space.

“let me explain.” jeno called out, but you were already scrambling towards the door, needing to create distance between the two of you, leaving him and your chaos of emotions behind.

“i’m so excited!” chaewon squealed as she held onto your hand, practically dragging you towards the bus.

it was the annual retreat the student council had organized to help students destress and bond outside of academic pressure. this year, the arts and business departments were grouped to blend creativity and strategy. since you and chaewon were both visual design students, you agreed to be seatmates on the bus. mark and haechan were also coming along because they were music and dance majors, respectively. while it sounded like an excellent opportunity to unwind, you knew it also meant that jeno and karina would be there since they were a part of the department as business and fashion majors.

you haven’t spoken to jeno since your last encounter. you weren’t sure you had the right words to say to him. no one knew of what happened that night, and the guilt was clawing you alive. you contemplated whether to tell chaewon about it. you knew she was going to be by your side, but admitting that you kissed jeno while he was in a relationship with karina was something you didn’t want to say out loud. admitting it would make it real. and making it real meant facing the truth: you kissed someone else’s boyfriend. even if he started it.

the mere thought made you shiver. although jeno was equally responsible for the kiss that he initiated, you wondered if he told anyone about it, if he regretted it, or if he thinks about it as often as you did.

you would be lying to yourself if you said that you had already forgotten about the kiss. the memory of kissing someone you were in love with was not easy to bury. the feeling of his lips on yours haunted you on nights you couldn’t sleep, your heart racing at the faint thought of it.

you found yourself seated in the middle section of the bus. chaewon begged for the window seat, striking a deal to share her stash of snacks in exchange. students gradually filled the bus, mark and haechan seated on the aisle across from you, their banter already filling the air. it wasn’t long before jeno and karina boarded the bus, karina leading jeno with her hand in his. for a brief second, you locked eyes with jeno, whose face was filled with sorrow when he looked at you. you loathed it.

you quickly broke eye contact, but you swore his gaze lingered on you a bit longer. you faced chaewon, who was telling you about her latest boy drama. she noticed that your expression had shifted; she turned her head to see where you were just looking, and her suspicions were confirmed when she saw the couple.

“are you and jeno alright?” chaewon whispered, leaning towards you. “don’t think i saw you guys together since the party.” you stiffened. she was right.

chaewon was observant. she knew you too well. she noticed the small things, like how you look for jeno in crowds or how your mood shifts downward when you spot him with karina. it had been two torturous weeks since the party, since you had a secret you couldn’t muster up the courage to tell anyone. two weeks of trying to convince yourself that it didn’t mean anything—when deep down, you knew it meant everything.

and two weeks' worth of unread messages from jeno.

you thought back to the notifications you had stared at countless times, your heart clenching every time his name lit up your screen.

jeno: hey jeno: how are u? jeno: we should really talk jeno: let me know when ure free jeno: i miss u y/n jeno: pls dont ignore me

you had read them all. your fingers hovered over the keyboard countless times, thinking about what to say to him. what were you supposed to say? that you were in love with him? that the kiss meant everything to you while it was probably a drunken mistake for him? that you were drowning in guilt but couldn't help but think about the kiss? you decided that saying nothing would be better, giving you time to gather your thoughts.

but no matter how you tried, jeno was everywhere. in the halls, in your dreams, and now, on this godforsaken bus.

“yeah.” you smiled at chaewon, pulling on her arm so you could nest your head against her shoulder. “i’m just sleepy.”

“my ass hurts.” haechan whined dramatically as you got off the bus. mark chuckled at him while he extended his arms. the ride took three hours and you were all sore from sitting down, eager to stretch your legs. but the view was worth the pain.

the beach house that the council rented was massive. its modern design stands out against the blue ocean and white sand. large glass windows reflected the sun rays, and the sprawling deck held enough space for barbecues and hangouts. off to the side were lounge chairs arranged neatly with umbrellas softening the harsh sunlight. the waves crashing softly against the shore added a soothing background hum, instantly washing away some of your earlier tension.

“alright, everyone!” one of the council—who you recognized was soobin—announced, making heads turn to face him. “we’ll be assigning rooms in fifteen minutes. grab your stuff, and let’s meet in the living room.”

moments later, the group navigated to the now cramped space. you were sure there were at least twenty students in your house, and you wondered if it was enough to fit all of you. the rest are probably in the beach houses next door. the living room buzzed with activity. some familiar faces are scattered around the area; you gave them a polite nod when you met their eyes, thankful that they returned the gesture. you settled for the vacant space on the couch, with chaewon trailing behind you.

“settle down, guys.” soobin cleared his throat. the noise in the room died down, with jisung and chenle the last ones to squeeze into the room. soobin lifted his phone, assuming to read off the names and room assignments. “some already requested to be paired before this trip, so let me tell you which rooms you’ll be in.”

“chaewon and y/n.” soobin called out, head whipping to look for us, nodding once he spotted us. “you’ll be in room 3.”

chaewon let out a tiny clap with her hands, smiling at you brightly, to which you returned the energy. soobin continued announcing the names of the students who would be roomed together. mark and haechan are paired in the room across the hall from yours.

“i know some of you requested to be with your partners, but the school board requires us to separate male and female students.” soobin started, groans echoing throughout the room. “i know, i know. but this will just be for formalities. what you do after lights out is none of our business.” his comment drew waves of laughter and grins.

“jeno and renjun.” he continued, looking around the room. “room 6.”

the sound of his name made your stomach drop, nearly forgot that he was in the same room as you. you tried to keep your expression neutral as your eyes shifted to him, who was leaning against the wall with karina on his side.

“find your rooms and settle in. dinner’s at six. feel free to explore the area until then.” soobin finally finished disclosing information, and everyone hurried off to find their respective rooms.

chaewon led the way to your room, with you trailing behind her, struggling to navigate the vast house with your bags. the weight of your stuff was slowing you down, and you silently cursed yourself for your overpacking tendencies. startled, a pair of hands who obviously saw you struggle helped you carry them. you lifted your head to say thank you, but the words got stuck in your throat when you locked eyes with your rescuer, jeno.

“i could’ve carried them.” you mumbled, watching as he effortlessly carried your bag with one arm, and—you're assuming—his and karina’s bag in another. speaking of, where was she?

“just accept the help.” jeno replied, his tone simple. a wave of emotions washing over you—guilt, confusion, and something you did not want to name. this was the first time you’d talked to him since the incident. “lead the way.” pursing your lips, you ascended the stairs, feeling him trace your steps but not utter a word.

shortly, you found chaewon standing in front of a bedroom door, which you’re guessing is your room. her eyes widened when she saw who was behind you, but you’re thankful she didn’t mention anything.

“i can take it from here.” you told jeno, who nodded. he handed you your bag, his fingers grazing your skin as you retrieved it from his grasp. you don’t know if you were going crazy, but you swore sparks shot out of your entire body from the mere touch of his skin.

get a hold of yourself.

you thought to yourself. you have experienced jeno’s touch before, but why were you acting like a teenage girl who got to hold her crush’s hand for the first time?

you muttered a thank you to jeno before following chaewon, who had already entered the room. but before you could cross the doorway, you felt a hand on your arm. your heart speeded up at the contact. head turning to face him, he opened his mouth to talk, but no words came out.

“can we talk?” jeno asked, his eyebrows twisting in concern. “please?”

“later.” you affirmed, sending him a weak smile. “come over later.”

his lips tugged upward into a tight smile before nodding and walking away to enter his room, which you saw was just a few doors away from yours.

you shut the door behind you once you entered the room, sighing against it. chaewon watched you with worried eyes, and it took everything in you not to admit to her and cry in her arms. still, the weight of her stare told you that she knew something was wrong.

“had a small fight with jeno.” lie. “don’t worry, i’m used to fighting with his ass.” you dryly laughed. you knew she didn’t buy it but decided to let it go, not wanting to pry when you’re obviously not in the mood to talk about it.

you took this time to scan the room. two single beds in the middle of the room with a bedside table separating them. light blue wallpaper covering the wall, the sunlight peeking through the glass windows. and the view showcased the ocean’s beauty, which made you smile. maybe this retreat wouldn’t be so bad after all?

“you look hot!” chaewon complimented as you slipped into denim shorts. you were wearing a light pink two-piece bikini that was enough to prevent public indecency.

haechan texted you, saying that he, mark, and a few other people were hanging by the beach, and of course, you didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to feel the ocean breeze on your skin. you immediately pulled out the bikini you packed for this trip.

“look who's talking!” you giggled, pointing to her black bikini that perfectly hugged her body. “who will be the lucky guy tonight?” you wiggled your eyebrows teasingly, which she just laughed at.

“whoever it will be, i just hope he’s good in bed.” chaewon fake sighed, making you jokingly pat her arm.

the sun was about to set. some students were already grilling dinner to serve to everyone, and some were mingling by the pool. you could not wait to spend time with your friends to take your mind off him.

the two of you left your room and walked down the hall towards the beach. the faint sound of familiar voices filling the air as your toes reached the sand. you spotted mark, whose back was facing you, seated on a camp chair circling a fire. the cool breeze brushing against your skin as you neared them.

“there you guys are!” haechan exclaimed once he spotted you. he patted the empty chair for you to sit next to him, which you did. chaewon sat on the empty one next to yunjin, who was also in your year. you said your greetings to everyone around the fire, thankful that you were familiar with all of them.

the scent of the ocean filled your nose. the sounds of seagulls flying echoed the air. the warmth of the fire dancing on your skin. it felt soothing not to have to think about the stress of academics. however, your solace was cut short when a familiar couple took the spot directly in front of you.

“why don’t we play a game!” jisung, seated beside haechan, suggested, voice cutting through the conversation.

“what are we? twelve?” chenle scoffed, leaning against his chair while taking a sip out of his cup.

jisung smirked, punching him lightly. “come on, live a little, you prude.”

“bet you’re going to suggest tru-“

“truth or dare!” jisung suggested, eyes lighting up mischievously, earning a chorus of groans from the crowd, which you chuckled at.

“i think it’ll be fun!” chaewon chimed in, voice raising as she clapped her hands.

jisung scanned the area, “alright, let’s see!” a finger tapping his chin as he picked his first target. “jeno, truth or dare?” all eyes landed on him, including yours, watching as he contemplated what to choose.

jeno chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “truth.” 

“boring.” jisung groaned but conjured up a question anyway. “who is the prettiest woman in this circle? and it doesn’t have to be your girlfriend!”

“jisung, you’re being weird.” renjun interjected, shaking his head in disapproval.

“what! it’s called truth or dare for a reason.” jisung defended, putting his hands up in defense.

jeno stayed silent for a second before he lifted his head. you swore his eyes lingered on you for too long before uttering his answer. “karina, of course.”

“boo!” jisung chanted, but some were in awe of his loyalty to his girlfriend. karina, who was next to him, jokingly rolled her eyes before kissing jeno on the cheek. you stayed silent, chewing on your bottom lip, trying to avert your gaze from the affectionate display.

“eric!” jisung called out. heads turned to him, who was seated beside you. you followed their gaze to see the handsome male.

“dare.” eric smirked, leaning forward in confidence.

“finally, someone who’s not a pussy.” jisung grinned mischievously, rubbing his hands together. “i dare you to kiss the prettiest woman in this circle.”

“dude, what is your obsession with pretty girls.” you heard mark whisper.

the circle broke into fits of laughter, but what happened next came as a shock to you. eric turned to face you, your eyes widening once you realized what he was asking. the laughter died down as everyone’s attention shifted towards the two of you. his eyes met yours, and your heart began pounding as the realization hit.

“what—” you started, but the words barely left your mouth before eric leaned in. his lips inches away from you, staring into you as if he was silently asking for permission. you froze, not retracting your face away. you gave him a tiny nod of confirmation. he placed a soft kiss on your lips, lingering just a second too long for it to feel innocent.

the group erupted into a mix of cheers, gasps, and whistles.

“my guy didn’t even hesitate!” mark exclaimed, patting eric on the arm. you pulled away from eric, cheeks heating up from the amount of people witnessing the dared kiss.

you didn’t want to, but you couldn’t help but sneak a glance at jeno. his expression was curious, his previous relaxed demeanor replaced by something you couldn’t understand, making you wonder if it was because of you.

eric leaned back into his seat, a cheeky grin on his lips. “sorry if it was too forward.”

you let out a small laugh, brushing it off. “it’s fine.” tucking a strand of hair behind your ears.

“moving on!” jisung announced, “renjun, truth or dare?”

jisung’s words faded away as your attention averted to something—someone—else. from the corner of your eye, jeno’s gaze was flickering between you and eric, his jaw clenching as he gripped the red plastic cup in his hand.

haechan leaned to you, mouth near your ear. “think that’s because of you?” he whispered as if he read your mind. he was always the one to tease you about your feelings for jeno.

“don’t be absurd.” you glared at him, pushing him away, but he only laughed. but deep inside, your thoughts were all over the place, with jeno’s reaction lingering in the back of your head, making things feel infinitely more complicated.

a knock on your door pulled you out of your trance. you decided to head back to your room, leaving the group behind to catch up on some well-deserved sleep. you were feeling overwhelmed with the social interaction you had to go through today, quietly slipping yourself away from haechan’s coercion of trying to make you stay longer. not to mention it seems like jeno and karina were getting heated up from the amount of affection they were displaying. you did not want to stick around when things escalated.

curious, you stood from the bed and gripped the doorknob before turning it and opening the door.

“hey.” jeno greeted, a sheepish smile on his face.

the wind was knocked out of you. you forgot you asked him to come over, seeing him in front of you made you nervous.

“jeno.” you breathed, .

“can i come in?” red exclamation marks were clouding your vision, but you shook them off, pulling the door wider so he could pass through.

jeno stayed silent as he entered your room, eyes wandering around the place for a second before facing you. you were almost certain you felt deja vu by your current positions.

“i wish you would stop avoiding me.” jeno started, “i know what i did was uncalled for, but i—it was—“

“did you tell her?” you interrupted, voice sounding sharper than you intended.

“i—no.”

“jeno.” you glared at him.

“i know! i feel so fucking guilty about it, too, okay? but i—“ jeno took a step forward to you. “have a lot in my head.”

“imagine how i feel!” you shot back, voice jumping an octave. “i made out with someone else’s boyfriend.” you whispered the last part as the weight of your words sank in.

“fuck, y/n. it’s not easy for me either.” his eyes were trained on you with an expression plastered on his face that you couldn’t quite understand.

“what are you saying?” frustration lacing your voice.

jeno thought for a second, letting the silence fill the air as he racked his mind of what to say. “do you like eric?”

“what? no!” you replied instantly to his ridiculous question. why does he even care if you had feelings for eric?

“does he kiss better than me?”

“are you insane?” you spat. “are you literally joking about this right now?”

“i’m not joking.” jeno inched closer to you. your heart racing once his scent reached your nose, his warmth radiating off his body. “does he?”

thoughts clouded your mind. why would he even care if eric was a good kisser? he had karina. a girlfriend who he had been with for years. “i’m not answering that.” you shook your head, crossing your arms across your chest in an attempt to build a wall between the two of you.

“i want to kiss you again.”

“what?” your knees grew weak at his confession. staring at him as if he had three heads. was he hearing himself right now?

“can i?” jeno grabbed your arms, making them uncross from your previous stance. so much for building a wall. “kiss you…” he dropped his grip from your arms, caressing your cheek with his hand. “again?” his thumb sliding down just enough to reach your lips.

“jeno…” you begged, almost sounding like a whimper.

“just… one more time, please?” he pleaded, gaze dropping to your lips. you didn’t miss the way he licked his lips before flickering his eyes back to meet yours.

“this is wrong.” you whispered, voice unsteady. your words contradict your actions.

“i know.” his breath fanned your face. “but i can’t stop thinking about our kiss.” his lips dangerously close to yours. the weight of his confession sending you into a spiral. “tell me to leave.”

you stayed silent. the words hung in the air, heavy with anticipation. the internal battle inside you faltered as you slowly caved in. you slightly shook your head no, and that was all he needed.

jeno kissed you like he had been waiting his whole life for it. you reciprocated his energy, arms flying around his neck to tug him closer to you. his arms wrapping around your waist to pull your body against him. you whimpered against his lips when you felt his cock hardening, just by your mere.

“fuck.” jeno whispered, hands cupping your face as he pulled away from your lips. “i need you so bad.” desperation lacing his voice.

“w-what?” you froze, not expecting things to escalate so quickly. “jeno, kari-”

“she’s mad at me.” oh. “told me not to bother looking for her tonight.” his expression turned sour from mentioning her girlfriend. odd.

your heart raced. is that why he was here? to look for release?

as if he read your mind, he was quick to respond. “you’re not a placeholder for her, y/n.” this was the first lie jeno told you. “i’m here for you.” he reassured.

jeno leaned in and kissed you again, the kiss soft and filled with need. your mind is still on the fence about the entire situation, but by the simple “please?” he uttered, your walls came crashing down. it felt like you two were the only people on earth.

one thing led to another; you found yourself laying on the mattress with jeno in between your legs. his lips on yours as he kissed you hungrily, his hands playing with the hem of your shirt. he pulled away from you, looking at you for confirmation before you nodded. he slipped the shirt off your frame, eyes roaming your bra-clad body the second you were exposed.

feeling vulnerable beneath his gaze, you moved to cover yourself, but his grip on your arms prevented you from doing so.

“don’t.” he muttered, leaning down to place a kiss on your chest. “beautiful.” his hand snaked behind your back, his fingers grazing the clasp of your bra. “can i?”

you nodded, and in a swift motion, the clothing fell down your chest. your heart speeding up as his fingers trailed from your back to just below your breast. he looked into your eyes for any signs of doubt, but you didn’t provide any. you needed him badly.

you reached for his shirt, tugging it as a sign. he noticed the signal and pulled away from you, lifting his shirt off his body. your eyes shamelessly traveling down his toned chest, feeling a wave of heat forming between your legs. damn his addiction to working out.

“you can touch me, you know.” jeno chuckled once he saw your mouth slightly part at the sight. you took his words as a sign to caress his chest, down to his abs and just above his abdomen, making him groan. “didn’t know you’d be such a tease.”

“shut up.” you mumbled, hands playing with the buttons of his jeans. “i’m taking my time.” you admired his body; after all, you had only been dreaming of this moment.

“oh?” jeno teased, grabbing you by the thighs and pulling you down so your core was close to his crotch, making you gasp. “well, i need you now.” he whispered before attaching his lips to yours, hand reaching up to your breast to knead the skin, making you moan against his mouth. his free hand reached in between your bodies to cup your core, the wetness seeping through as he gently rubbed up and down.

his cock growing against your core, feeling your body heat rise at the sensation. his fingers hooked the waistband of your shorts before sliding them down your legs, leaving you completely exposed.

in an abrupt motion, jeno took off his pants and boxers. his cock springing against his abdomen, the head red and precum spilling from the tip. you licked your lips before reaching to pump his cock. he was so big and thick, better than you could ever imagine.

“fuck.” jeno grunted against your touch, hips bucking to meet your hands. “i-i don’t have any condoms.”

“just pull out, i trust you.” you bit your lip. “and i’m on the pill if that helps.”

“why didn’t you start with that?” jeno replaced your hand with his. aligning his length with your entrance. spreading your wetness with the head of his cock.

you whimpered at the sensation before he slowly pushed into you. muted gasps leaving your lips,  mouth falling agape as you grew accustomed to his size.

“shit—“ jeno’s hands fell to your hips, gripping on the skin. “you’re so tight.” he said, fully burying himself into you. your insides were burning from the lack of foreplay, but you didn’t care; you wanted him—needed him—before he slipped out of your grasp again. tears pricked your eyes as he adjusted himself. he stayed still, waiting for any confirmation from you. “i know, i know.” he muttered, pressing a kiss on your forehead once he saw your pained expression. “it’ll feel better, i promise.”

a few moments later, you tapped his thigh as a signal. he carefully moved his hips, slowly thrusting out before fully pushing in again. once you got used to his movements, moans spilled from your lips. he took this as a sign to increase his speed.

“god—“ you cried out, hands gripping the sheets beneath you. “jeno!”

his hands reached for your breasts, massaging them while simultaneously playing with your nipples. your back arched against the mattress when his fingers circled the sensitive buds.

your hips bucked up in an attempt to meet his thrusts, making him pick up the pace even more. “so good for me.” he praised, making your head dizzy. his lips find your neck, sucking and licking on the skin.

lewd sounds escaping your lips from his actions. your hand flew to grip his hair, tugging it lightly, making him grunt. the familiar knot forming in your stomach as he picked up his pace. your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, the new position allowing him to bury his cock even deeper.

you cursed out his name as his tip perfectly hit the spot that drove you insane. “f-fuck.” you managed to let out. hands falling to his shoulder, fingernails slightly digging into his skin.

sweat trickled down jeno’s forehead as he pulled away from your neck. his eyes trained on you—his best friend—as you took his cock.

“are you gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” jeno grunted, watching your breasts bounce from his every thrust. he licked his lips at the sight.

you nodded, biting on your lip. “god—yes!”

jeno slipped his hand in between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. he circled the sensitive nerve, adding even more pleasure, making you near your orgasm even more.

“come on, baby.” jeno whispered, lips capturing yours. “cum for me.”

you clenched around him. your release begging to be freed, with a few more thrusts from him. you came crashing down on his cock. moaning loudly as you chased your high. you were thankful that almost everyone was busy getting drunk on the beach.

“oh my fucking god.” jeno groaned, watching as you squirmed beneath him. your back arching, giving him a perfect view of your tits. and soon enough, his orgasm hit him; he quickly pulled out, spilling his cum all over your stomach.

you lay there breathless, chest heaving as you recovered from your high. jeno pulled his body away from you, walking into the connected bathroom before coming back with a roll of tissue. he peeled a fair amount before rushing to wipe his cum all over you.

you giggled when his hands reached your sides, feeling ticklish. you watched him clean you up, and suddenly, reality came crashing in.

you just fucked someone else’s boyfriend. the air suddenly felt tight as jeno trashed the dirty tissues. he reached for his pants, slipped them on before reaching for your clothes, and placed them near you.

“oh my god.” you whispered as your realization kicked in. your hands reaching for the covers to hide away from him somehow.

“what’s wrong?” jeno asked, brows furrowed as he watched you try to scramble away from him.

“jeno, we just fucked.” you reminded him, reaching for your shirt to cover yourself up.

“we’ve literally known each other for years, y/n. i don’t think now’s the time for you to be shy.” he chuckled, slipping his shirt on.

“that’s not—jeno, what about karina?”

jeno froze, expression twisting into worry at the mention of his girlfriend’s name, but he quickly shook it off, masking his unease. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of it.” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact with you. his words felt empty, a hollow reassurance that only deepened the pit in your stomach. you weren’t exactly sure what he was promising—what was he going to take care of? “i can’t stay here tonight.” he moved closer to the doom “i’ll see you soon?” his hand lingered on the doorway, finally fixing his gaze on you.

then it hit you like you were punched in the gut, and it all made sense now. you weren’t sure if jeno was here to patch things up with you or dig a hole even deeper, but given your past activity, you could only guess he made the decision for the latter. jeno was just here for a quick release. and who better to turn to rather than his best friend—the one he knew would always bend over backward for him?

you sat there, unable to move. you were equally to blame. you had let this happen. you let yourself fall down his trap, even though warning signs blared in your mind. you let yourself believe that he was capable of having feelings for you beyond friendship.

“right,” you nodded curtly, voice barely audible. “see you.”

jeno hesitated for a second, “don’t be a stranger, okay?” he said before slipping out the door. the soft click of its closing was deafening, and the silence that followed felt suffocating.

your gaze stilled on the door. his presence still lingering at the back of your head. he said he couldn’t stay, but you wondered if he wanted to. or were you just a convenient distraction, someone to make him feel grounded while he sorted his mess with karina?

tears welled in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away. chaewon could be coming in any second—quite grateful that she didn’t when jeno was balls deep in you—and you refused to show any vulnerability, not when it comes to him. not this time, you couldn’t keep doing this—not to him, or karina, and definitely not to yourself.

your little secret was eating you alive.

here you sat, curled up on the couch in the living room of your shared apartment with chaewon. it was one of those rare nights when you and your friends—chaewon, mark, haechan, and jeno (when he wasn’t busy quarreling with karina)—could indulge in your movie night tradition.

the aroma of buttered popcorn filled the air, and a pile of blankets and pillows was scattered around the room. you were seated on the loveseat couch with chaewon beside you, her legs resting on your lap. mark and haechan were below you, sitting on the air mattress you had put out specifically for this night. and jeno splayed himself on the comfortable armchair. the tv illuminated the room as the opening credits of a classic rom-com played, but you were barely paying attention. how could you? your mind was floating, caught in a web of guilt.

after the encounter you had with jeno, you were convinced he was going to do the right thing—either end things with karina or at least come clean about what happened. but alas, you heard that he somehow made up with her, leaving you wondering and confused.

you felt used. it wasn’t that you expected he would ditch karina and be with you; you weren’t that naive. you simply hoped it would be the start of shifting your relationship—if you could even call it that—with jeno. but instead, he was still hesitant about crossing the line from friends.

jeno was within your peripheral vision, laughing at the comment mark had said about the movie. the sound of his voice made your stomach feel uneasy. he seemed so unbothered, so perfect and fine, yet you felt like you were drowning from the weight of what the two of you shared. it felt unfair.

you couldn’t bring yourself to tell anyone, not chaewon, not mark. you were carrying the burden alone. but jeno’s every glance at you made your body feel like it was under a spotlight.

it didn’t help that you hadn’t spoken to jeno about it. granted, you were both busy with university and this was the first time you’d been in the same room as him since the trip. talking through the phone just doesn’t seem enough for the weight of your conversation.

“why are you so quiet tonight?” chaewon asked, munching on popcorn. “you okay?”

“of course!” you shot her a smile, reaching for the bowl she had with her and popping some popcorn in your mouth. “just really wanted to watch this movie.” you lied, hoping she wouldn’t see right through you. she believed you, dropping the subject.

if only you could bury the truth as easily as you buried your feelings.

from the corner of your eye, you knew that jeno tuned in to the brief conversation, his expression dropping from the tone of your voice.

the movie continued. the comedic skits drew laughter from mark and haechan. chaewon lets out squeals whenever the main lead does something romantic. despite the bubbly atmosphere, you couldn’t fully immerse yourself in the group. you sneaked another glance towards jeno, whose gaze was directed to his phone.

his screen lit up, indicating a notification, and his fingers hovered over the keyboard. the soft glow gave you enough light to see his jaw tense slightly. you didn’t even have to think for a second that the text had come from karina. you felt foolish for somehow believing him when he said he would take care of it. 

jeno stood up abruptly, drawing everyone’s attention. “i—uh have to go.” he announced, pocketing his phone and reaching for his jacket.

“what? i thought we were having a sleepover!” haechan whined, tossing a piece of popcorn in his direction.

“yeah, dude, the movie was just about to get interesting.” mark chimed in, his eyes darting to the screen, making sure not to miss a scene.

jeno could only muster a chuckle. “sorry, something came up. it’s, uh, family stuff.” he lied through his teeth. his eyes avoided yours no matter how intent you were staring at him, which alone was enough to confirm your suspicion.

why did he lie about seeing karina?

“everything okay?” chaewon asked, concern dripping from her tone.

“oh yeah, nothing serious. they just need my help with something.” jeno assured, enough to not worry anyone.

you stayed silent, watching as he lied about his whereabouts. you merely nodded at his words, not having the right words to say. they all bid their goodbyes, and you managed to utter a tiny “bye” to his departure. you swore he turned back one last time before leaving, not to look at the group but to look at you. the look on his face was unreadable, and you hated how you couldn’t see right through him.

once jeno left, everyone returned their attention to the movie. your chest felt much lighter by his absence, but once you thought about where or who he was going to, you felt a commotion stir inside you.

“how’s it going with you and jeno?” mark casually asked, making you panic. worried that you might have let something slip.

“what do you mean?”

“figured out how to get over that crush of yours?” oh. chaewon and haechan’s ears perked up, looking at you for confirmation.

“i’m trying.” you kept your answer curt, shrinking into the cushions, trying to avoid the discussion.

“you know, i have this friend, and i think he’d be perfect for you.” mark started, head turning to face you, a mischievous smirk plastered on his lips. “good looking, smart, studying for his medical degree, loves cats.” he listed, trying to make his friend sound as attractive as possible.

“what? are you trying to set me up on a blind date?” you raised your brow at him, which he only sheepishly smiled at.

“well, technically, it’s not blind, i have a feeling you’ve seen him around.”

“please! this is exactly what you need.” chaewon chimed in, nudging your body.

“i don’t know…” you trailed off hesitantly.

“why not?” haechan jumped in. “it’s not like you have anything to lose, right? and besides, it’ll be fun.”

“and it will be a good distraction from you-know-who.” chaewon chipped in.

they were all looking you, waiting for your response. you paused, contemplating their suggestion.

they were right. you had to stop considering Jeno in all your decisions. especially after tonight when he so painfully cannot let go of her even after your moment with him. it was clear where you stand in jeno’s life—his best friend who he had slept with. going on a date with a handsome stranger did spark something within you.

“fine.” you sighed, making them cheer. mark already reached for his phone. “don’t make me regret this.”

as excitement filled the room, you couldn’t help but be thankful that your friends were helping you keep your mind off of jeno. maybe this distraction was precisely what you needed.

you fixed your hair in the mirror's reflection one last time before heading out. today was your date with mark’s friend, jaemin. his name sounded oddly familiar to you, but you couldn’t pinpoint where you heard it. you figured it was a common name around the city, so you brushed it off.

to say you were not nervous would be a lie. your heart beat against your chest as you waited for the knock on your door. mark sent you jaemin’s number so you could set up the details yourselves. you’ve briefly exchanged conversations with the mystery guy, and you found out he was in the same year you were at university. it made you wonder if you had crossed paths with him.

jaemin persistently insisted that he come to pick you up at your place, claiming he is a gentleman. which was a massive check in your book, and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. it was charming and refreshing. so here you were in a white silky long-sleeve dress that stopped mid-thigh, stocking on, and nice cute heels to go along with the outfit. he had told you to dress not too fancy but not too casual either, and you figured this was the best you could come up with.

moments later, the inevitable knock on your door came. you smoothed out the fabric of your dress before approaching the door.

“hi–” you pulled the door open and faced him, the wind knocking out of your body once you laid eyes on him.

jaemin was gorgeous. his black hair falling in the most perfect way possible. he was dressed in a black shirt that peeked through his jacket, paired with dark denim jeans. he emitted a calm, understated confidence that made your stomach flutter and your cheeks warm.

“hey.” jaemin greeted you, a smile on his lips, his voice warm and comforting. “you look—wow, stunning.” he breathed, feeling shy beneath his gaze.

“hi, jaemin.” you replied, returning his grin. “thank you. you’re not so bad yourself.”

jaemin chuckled, holding out his arm in a cheesy way. “shall we, m’lady?”

“oh god.” you covered your face with your hands.

“i’m kidding.” jaemin reached out to pull your arms away. “come on.” he slipped his grip from your arms to your hands, locking his fingers with yours. a bold move, but you liked it.

jaemin opened the car door for you. you silently thanked him as you slipped into the passenger seat. he closed the door gently before jogging to the driver's side.

“so,” jaemin spoke once he started the car. you turned to face him. “are you nervous?” a hint of playfulness in his eyes.

you couldn’t help but laugh at his question. “kinda.” you admitted.

“good, that makes the two of us.”

the car ride was surprisingly comfortable. the small talk flowed easily, revealing more of his sweet and kind nature. you noticed how he drove the perfect speed to not make you nauseous, how he would avoid the potholes in the street so the ride wouldn’t be bumpy. you were hoping this entire night would keep your mind off the chaos you tried to bury.

he pulled up to a restaurant that was part of town that you were unsure if you’d been to before. the minimal but sophisticated signage illuminated the name that you were sure you couldn’t pronounce.

jaemin didn’t forget to open your car door for you once again. his hand resting on the small of your back as he navigated the both of you through the dimly lit restaurant. fancy. he gave his last name to the host before you were both assisted to your seats. as you followed the steps of your waiter, a familiar laughter erupting in the air made you stop in your tracks

no. it couldn’t be.

“jeno!” jaemin greeted the young man. jeno turned his head as he heard his name called, and his familiar eye smile made its way to his face once he saw jaemin. but his expression quickly faltered when he saw you were next to him. when did this happen? he wondered.

across from jeno was—you already guessed it—karina, who was slicing through her steak, unbothered by the newly arrived presence.

blood raced through your head, feeling dizzy when the two men exchanged greetings and surprisedness. of course, that was why jaemin was so familiar, he was jeno’s roommate! you have only been to jeno’s apartment a few times, and he told you that he had a roommate who was busy with his medical degree, so he always opted to hang out at your place. you never would’ve imagined that he was the same jaemin that lived with jeno. you silently cursed mark and his conniving ways; he probably set this up on purpose, too.

you stood still, watching the scene before you unfold. the air suddenly felt tight as the waiter pointed to the two vacant seats directly beside jeno and karina. ringing noise infiltrated your ears as jaemin smiled and pulled out the chair for you to sit in.

“can—are there any other seats?” you asked the waiter. this time, karina dropped her utensils at the familiar voice, her brow raising at the sight of you. “i just—it’s too hot in here.” you stammered, gripping the back of your chair.

the scene in front of you felt like a cruel twist of fate. the universe couldn’t have planned this better if it had tried. out of all the restaurants in the city, you just had to end up here. with jeno. and karina. together. on the night that you were supposed to forget said people.

“are you okay?” jaemin was quick to your side, worry plastered on his face. his genuineness added to the heaviness of your chest. you sent him a weak smile, brushing off his worries.

“i’m sorry, miss.” the waiter said apologetically, bowing his head lightly. “we are fully booked tonight.” you pursed your lips, nodding at him.

the last thing you wanted was to sit through an awkward dinner with jeno within your eyes and earshot while his girlfriend smugly sat mere inches beside you, completely unaware of what happened between you and jeno. but you couldn’t let jaemin’s effort go to waste. you fixed your posture, grabbing jaemin’s outstretched hand that was waiting for you, and you sat on the chair he pulled out for you.

you couldn’t help it; you hesitantly glanced at jeno, whose gaze was intent on you, jaw almost clenching at your presence. swallowing hard, you lifted the menu to cover your face from his intense stare, questioning what you had done to deserve this.

somehow, jaemin couldn’t sense the tension between you and his roommate. he talked to you with a sweet smile, but you could barely register his words because you kept zoning his words out due to the presence next to him.

“oh! have i told you that this guy,” jaemin pointed his thumb to jeno who suddenly turned to look at him. “is my roommate! what a small world.” he chuckled.

your stomach dropped. of course, he had to bring it up. you chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating whether you should mention the nature of your relationship with jeno.

karina, who overheard your conversation, snickered before chiming in. “of course, she would know, silly! she’s jeno’s best friend.”

“wait, what?” jaemin’s eyebrows furrowed, gaze flicking from you to jeno. “you two know each other?” he questioned.

“yeah.” you forced a tight lip smile, feeling the heat creep up your neck. “we’ve known each other since we were kids.”

“wait, so you’re y/n—jeno’s y/n?” you winced at his words, hating how you were addressed. he wasn’t yours, and you certainly weren’t his. “oh my god, how didn’t i connect the dots sooner.” he mumbled, more to himself, still surprised by the proximity of relationships.

jeno let out a dry chuckle at his reaction, trying to mask his stern expression. the room suddenly felt hot. you reached for the glass of water and sipped it in the cool liquid to neutralize your throat.

“this makes tonight even better! no first-date awkwardness since you’re practically family with jeno.”

you choked on the water, the liquid spilling from your lips as you coughed, making jaemin’s eyes widen. people started to stare, but jaemin was already rushing to your side to help wipe the spilled water. out of the corner of your eye, you noticed jeno slightly twitch as if he wanted to offer some help but restrained himself, letting jaemin do the work. his jaw was tight; his lips were pressed into a thin line.

you wanted to crawl under the table. family? the word felt like a bucket of ice being poured down your body—literally. the word was laughable, given everything that happened between you and jeno. 

jeno tried to peel his eyes away as jaemin’s hands roamed your body. averting his gaze to karina, his lovely girlfriend. he reminded himself.

once jaemin made sure you were okay, you thanked him, and he returned to his seat, apologizing to the other tables bothered by your sudden outburst. cheeks heating up when you realize a lot of people were witnesses to your clumsiness.

the food you ordered shortly arrived. the smell of freshly cooked meat and pasta filling the air, you hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the plates were set up in front of you. the meal provided a much-needed distraction, and the night seemed to flow more smoothly for a while. jeno finally fixed his gaze to fixate on his date, and you were paying attention to yours.

“hm, what are your pet peeves?” jaemin asked, taking a bite of his food.

you paused for a second, profoundly considering his question. “i hate liars.” you blurted out. you didn’t miss the way jeno’s hand froze mid-way into feeding the spoon into his mouth. “i hate when people tell me they’ll do something or take care of something for me but end up not keeping their end of the bargain.” you kept your tone casual. still, you knew you got the message across—even to the table beside you.

jaemin nodded along. “yeah, i get that.” his tone was empathetic. “it’s frustrating when someone doesn’t follow through. makes them seem untrustworthy.” 

you smiled at him, grateful that he shared the same views as you. you stole a quick glance at jeno, whose gaze was fixed on the plate on the table, but his hand was nearly turning red from his grip on the utensil. karina, who seemed confused by his sudden behavior, reached out to grab his hand in hers, making jeno look up and let out a sigh—you don’t know whether it was one of contentment or annoyance.

“please excuse me, i need to run to the bathroom real quick.” you mumbled to jaemin, flashing him a small smile as you slid your chair back. he nodded, returning a gentle smile, averting his attention to his phone while he waited for you to return.

jeno heard your excuse, eyes scanning karina who was too busy consuming her dessert before flickering to you who disappeared into the hallway that lead to the restroom.

without much thought, jeno impulsively excused himself from karina, muttering something about needing to wash his hands.

you leaned against the bathroom sink, sighing to yourself before running the cold water over your hands to somehow calm your nerves. jeno was confusing you. you hated not knowing what he was thinking, not having control over the situation. you didn’t have it in you to actually talk to jeno about the previous events. you were afraid of hearing the truth—that he chose her, like he did over and over again.

the sound of the bathroom door creaking open brought you to your senses. you glanced in the mirror, expecting another customer, your heart skipping when you saw jeno standing there, his expression unreadable.

“jeno? what are you doing here?” you whispered, eyes wide as you realized he’s in the women’s bathroom.

“jaemin, really?” jeno snorted, face contorting into anger? annoyance? you couldn’t tell, in fact you were confused as to why he was acting out of proportion. “out of all the people, you chose my friend?”

“i didn’t know he was your friend.” you defended, frowning at his accusation. “and why do you care?” you prodded, trying to grasp the situation.

“i don't.” jeno shot back. “as your friend,” he said, as if the word was laced with venom. “i’m just looking out for you. jaemin’s very busy with his degree and i doubt he has time to settle down.”

you couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “that’s rich coming from you.” you spat. “and friend? really? friends don’t do what we did, jeno.” you angrily whispered the last part, cautious of the people around.

jeno lightly flinched at your words, the sentence hanging heavy in the air. you sighed, getting ready to walk past him but he caught your arm before you could leave.

“i’m sorry.” jeno mumbled, regret evident in his eyes.

you shook your head, the lump in your throat threatening to be released. “just go back to her, jeno. isn’t that what you’re best at?” you pushed past him, shoulders brushing against one another, leaving jeno alone in the bathroom.

jaemin drove you back to your apartment. jeno and karina had left moments before you did, allowing you to let out a sigh of relief as soon as they were gone. you offered to pay for half the meal, but jaemin insisted on covering it, even sneaking in a small “you cover it next time,” accompanied by a wink that made your heart flutter.

jaemin was perfect. he lived up to mark’s description of him—kind, sweet, and painfully handsome. you’ve caught yourself staring at his face down to his lips more times than you cared to admit. there were even moments when your eyes drifted to his biceps when he shrugged his jacket off.

but somehow, deep inside, your mind stubbornly drifted back to the one person you wanted nothing more than to forget. seeing jeno witness you on a date to sparked a sense of satisfaction within you—a small win to prove to him (and maybe even yourself) that you were capable of forgetting that night. but the truth lingered in the back of your mind: you hadn’t. the little encounter you had with him also etched in your mind, still wondering what the meaning of all of it was. that night replayed over and over, making it impossible to let go. you convinced yourself that you didn’t care that he was still with karina, but it was like a fever burning you alive. every time you saw her, the weight of your actions dragged you down. you slept with her boyfriend, and no self-justification could erase the betrayal that you had inflicted. you weren’t sure if you could ever forgive yourself for it.

jaemin seemed quieter on the drive home, and you wondered if you ticked him off. he barely spared you a glance, and it made you even more nervous.

did he not enjoy the date? had you done something to upset him?

as he pulled up to your apartment, you beat him to open your door for you, wanting to escape the suffocating confines of the vehicle.

“hey, y/n.” jaemin called out when you barely glanced in his direction, directly jogging to your apartment entrance. you froze in your spot, barely entering your complex when he caught up to you. he stopped in front of you, his frame towering over yours beneath the moon's soft glow.

“did i do anything wrong?” you blurted out, avoiding eye contact with him.

“what? no.” jaemin’s eyebrows furrowed, shaking his head, sincerity dripping from his voice. “i was just thinking about how much i wanna kiss you tonight… but i didn’t want to scare you off.” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

the anxiety and tension within your body dissipated from his mere confession. you blinked up at him, processing his words. the knot in your stomach unraveled, and you felt foolish for jumping to the worst conclusion.

jaemin took a step closer, his warmth engulfing you. he lifted his hand, fingers gently tucking the loose strand of hair behind your ear. the soft touch sent a flutter through your body, instinctively leaning against his touch.

“can i?” he asked softly, voice so tender it was enough to make you melt.

you nodded, unable to find the words.

jaemin leaned in, your eyes falling shut as he minimized the distance between you. when his lips finally met yours, it was soft and gentle. his hand cupping your cheek while his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush against his so that you were chest-to-chest.

his kiss wasn’t rushed and overwhelming—it was perfect as if he was savoring every moment.

he pulled away, lips mere inches from yours as you both caught your breaths. “i’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

you giggled at his confession, cheeks burning as you met his eyes. you placed your palms against his chest, fingers tapping. “i’m glad you did.”

jaemin grinned at you, his thumb caressing your cheek. “good.” he said softly. “because i’d like to do it again sometime.”

your lips parted to respond, but he placed a quick but affectionate kiss on your forehead before you could. a small gesture, but it made your knees weak.

“goodnight, y/n.” he mumbled, stepping away from you with a small wave.

“goodnight, jaemin.” you replied, smiling at him.

with one last glance, he turned and walked back to his car, leaving you with a smile you couldn’t seem to wipe away.

“tell me everything!” chaewon’s voice echoed throughout the apartment the second you stepped foot in it. you laughed as she almost tripped, making her way to you. she grabbed your hands, shaking them excitedly. “well?” she questioned, voice jumping an octave. “was he nice? handsome? did you kiss?” she gasped, hand covering her mouth. “did you fuck?”

“chaewon!” you playfully scolded her, as she guided you to the couch. her knees tucked beneath her as she looked at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to fill her on what happened.

you took a deep breath before you disclosed everything that had happened that evening. how jaemin was a perfect guy—not forgetting to mention how handsome he is—and how jeno and karina were at the restaurant you were at, deciding to leave out your encounter with jeno in the bathroom.

“what, what?” chaewon exclaimed, “they were there? out of all places jaemin could’ve taken you to?” she tried to suppress her laughter, but you saw how amused she was by your revelation.

“i know.” you groaned, letting your body fall on the sofa, head landing on her lap. “i’m convinced the universe hates me.” you covered your face with your hands.

“how did you feel?” chaewon asked, patting your head that was laid down on her lap. “when you saw jeno and karina together?”

you pondered for a second. how did you feel? there was a mix of emotions that coursed through you—guilt, anxiety, jealousy, anger. everything felt so different. jeno is—or was—your best friend. whenever you two argued, it could usually be resolved over a shared tub of ice cream, but this situation felt far beyond the reach of simple, sweet solutions.

​​no one knew about what happened that night, and it seemed like he had no intention of telling anyone either. you were equally guilty, of course, having taken part in such a scandalous act. but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak the truth aloud.

“i don’t know.” you mumbled, pulling your hands away. “i told myself before that i’ve accepted it, that he will never like me, but…” you trailed off, contemplating whether you should tell her to truth or just keep it to yourself a little longer. “but i have got to stop lying myself. i’m losing my goddamn mind because of him.” she nodded to your words. “it’s just so hard to pretend that he’s just my friend, chae.” a tear slipped from your eye, and she immediately reached to wipe it off.

chaewon stayed silent, still gently brushing your hair. “it’s okay.” she comforted, flashing you a soft smile. “you can’t just flip a switch and stop caring about someone who’s been such a big part of your life.”

her words struck like a chord. you blinked at her, sighing. “i just thought it would be easier as time passed by.” this time, you couldn’t stop the tears that gushed. you hadn’t realized how much you’ve been carrying alone. it was too much. you needed to clear your head.

“you’re not alone in this, okay? you’ve got me, mark, haechan, and now… even jaemin.” she wiggled her eyebrows, a teasing smile on her lips.

a small laugh escaped you despite the tears. “jaemin.” you repeated, the thought of him momentarily bringing you joy.

“excatly! and from what you told me, he sounds like a dream.” chaewon’s excitement bubbled up again. “now tell me more about him!”

the front door opened and shut, making jeno stand from his bed and walk out to the living room. jaemin was setting his keys down on the counter while shrugging his jacket off when he spotted jeno.

“hey, jeno.” jaemin greeted, smiling at him. “tonight was crazy! i didn’t even know she was the same y/n you told me about.” he recalled, heart feeling warm at the thought of you.

“yeah,” jeno replied gruffly, “so listen,” he started, making jaemin turn to him, listening intently. “y/n’s… my best friend, and i wouldn’t want anything—or anyone to hurt her, you know?” he threaded lightly, careful not to show too much emotion, but enough to get the message across. he knew he had no right to tell you who to date but something about seeing you with jaemin stirred something within him and he didn’t know if he wants to find out.

jeno couldn’t bring himself to admit it. he had been avoiding you as much as you were to him. he couldn’t face the consequences of his actions. this was unlike him. he didn’t mean to lie to his girlfriend—didn’t mean to lie to you. when he told you he was going to fix it, he thought he could get it over with karina. he saw you in the back of his mind every time he closed his eyes. he remembers the soft feeling of your lips against him or how your bodies were pressed up against one another. he felt like shit, having all these thoughts about a girl—his best friend—while he had a girlfriend. but something tugged at his heart, the sight of her brought him back to reality, grounding him.

how could he trade what he had for something uncertain?

jeno loved karina. he. loved. her. so he convinced himself. she was perfect—beautiful, confident, and everything he thought he wanted. he felt a pang of guilt every time he kissed her, every time he touched her. how could he hurt the woman he claimed he loved?

so why did the thought of jaemin kissing you make him feel like he was losing something he never realized he wanted?

jaemin raised a brow but nodded anyway. “of course, man. i like her. i wouldn’t do anything to mess this up.”

all jeno could do was nod, although the weight never left his chest. “thanks, jaem, that’s all i needed to hear.” he forced a smile before retreating back to his room.

your laughter echoing through the hall made jeno freeze. what were you doing here? he thought to himself. he curiously opened his bedroom door, trying to eavesdrop.

“sorry, it’s a bit of a mess. i haven’t had time to clean up.” jaemin nervously laughed, trying to chuck away any trash or mess lying around.

you giggled at his nervousness, “it’s fine, jaemin.”

you were here for jaemin, of course. jeno scoffed, shutting his door to try and drown out the noise.

it had been a week since your first date with jaemin, and the two of you had been texting constantly the minute you parted ways. to say he was great would be an understatement—he was perfect. he knew exactly what to say to sweep you off your feet, leaving you smiling and giggling at your phone more often than you’d like to admit. however, as much as jaemin was perfect, your heart had a way of tugging at you, persistently reminding you of the one person you were trying so hard to erase from your mind.

jaemin invited you over to his—and jeno’s—apartment. you were weary of accepting his invitation at first, not wanting to invade jeno’s space, especially after your encounter with him. but jaemin seemed so excited to see you again, and despite everything, you were, too. you decided not to let jeno affect your relationship with jaemin.

you took a seat on the far end of the couch while jaemin sat on the opposite. he shot you a funny look before patting over to the space beside him. “why are you so far?”

you were as nervous as him. you hadn’t been alone with a boy—other than jeno, mark, or haechan—in so long you weren’t sure if you could contain yourself. after all, you are still a very hormonal girl.

“no reason.” you mumbled, but your expression failed you. you were getting goosebumps with the simple chill of the air. jaemin chuckled, deciding to slide over to your side instead. your thighs touching from his sudden proximity.

“you’re cute.” jaemin muttered, his hand moving to brush the stray hair that fell on your face.

“are you sure jeno doesn’t mind that i’m here?” you questioned, facing jaemin.

“you’re literally best friends, i know he doesn’t mind.” he smirked, eyes falling to your lips.

oh, but jeno minded. he minded a lot. it wasn’t his fault that the walls in this apartment were thin. your voices pierced through, hearing your every word, every laugh. his chest tightening with something he couldn’t quite place his finger on—guilt? frustration? jealousy? all he knew was that hearing you with jaemin felt like a knife twisting deeper with every passing second.

“you’re so beautiful.” jaemin mumbled, licking his lips. you placed your hands on his chest, tugging the collar of his shirt slightly closer to you. his breath fanned your face as he inched closer to you. “just wanna kiss you all day.”

you closed the gap between your lips, savoring his taste. jaemin wrapped his arms around your waist, hoisting you so that you were straddling his thighs. you gasped at his suddenness, but you secretly liked it anyway, looping your arms around his neck. he effortlessly slipped his tongue into your mouth, taking control, and you let him. 

you felt his growing bulge beneath you, making you giggle into the kiss. you ground your hips against him, pressing onto his cock, eliciting a groan from him. “who knew you were so naughty, hm?”

jeno had enough. he purposely pulled his door open, making a loud enough commotion to have you and jaemin separate from each other. you were about to hop off jaemin’s lap, but his grip on your hips prevented you from leaving.

“jeno, didn’t know you were here!”

“yeah, well, i live here too.” jeno grumbled, pretending to go to the kitchen and look for a drink. he saw you sitting on jaemin’s lap, and it felt like he was punched in the gut.

from jeno’s point of view, he could only see your face and the back of jaemin’s head. jeno’s eyes locked with yours, his jaw clenched as his gaze flickered to the both of you. your cheeks grew warm, your hands resting awkwardly on jaemin’s shoulders as if unsure where they should be.

“please don’t fuck,” jeno paused, eyes directly fixated on you, his eyes dark. your heart sped up, somehow getting his message. “on the couch.” maybe you were reading too much into it.

jaemin chuckled, his grip on you tightened, and suddenly, he stood up and held you in his arms. you yelped, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. “we’ll move this party elsewhere.” he guided you towards his bedroom, leaving jeno alone in the kitchen with his fist curled up into a ball as he watched you descend into the room.

only a thin wall was separating him from you and jaemin. jeno knew what you two were up to. he sat on his chair, facing his desk, head in his hands as he tried to contain himself. his curiosity got the best of him. he stood up, walking towards the wall that faced jaemin’s room and pressing his ear against the wall.

holy shit. jeno thought. he could hear your soft moans through the mall, his mind flashing back to the night you spent together. the sound immediately traveling to his dick. jaemin either had his fingers or dick in you because the way you were whining for him sounded so pretty.

jeno couldn’t help it, he palmed himself through his pajamas, ear still pressed against the wall.

“fuck, jaemin.” he heard you cry out. he bit his lip, trying to prevent any noise from escaping him as he took his cock out of his bottoms. it didn’t take long before he heard clapping and squelching sounds from the other side of the room.

jeno was upset—upset that he had to listen to another guy fuck you while he pathetically jerked himself off. his fingers wrapped around his length, closing his eyes while he listens to your moans. he imagined you. imagined how you were in his room instead of the other. imagining how it was your fingers wrapped around his cock. he began to stroke himself slowly, his thumb smearing the pre-cum that managed to spurt from his tip.

your moans began to get louder, jeno began picking up his pace. fucking his hand with every sound that left your lips. his mind convinced himself that you were making such pretty noises for him. he contained the grunts that threatened to escape his mouth, lips nearly bleeding from holding back. you began chanting jaemin’s name through breaths, indicating that you were close. jeno continued stroking himself until he came hard with his hand around his length, just from the sound of your moans.

you jolted awake, glancing at the clock, the number 1:43 am on display. after you and jaemin had sex, you immediately passed out, not having a chance to get ready for sleep. jaemin’s arm was lazily wrapped around your waist. you gently pushed it away. your throat felt dry, so you decided to sneak into the kitchen to grab a glass. you picked up the discarded shirt on the ground—most likely jaemin’s—slipped it on, and put on your underwear before tiptoeing out of his room, careful not to make too much noise.

in the midst of chugging down a cold glass of water, the sound of a door opening was heard from the end of the hall. it was jeno’s room. you froze, realizing you were not in proper attire right now. you set the glass on the sink before trying to retreat into jaemin’s room.

“y/n?” jeno’s voice echoed through the hall. you mentally cursed as you got caught, thankful the room was still dark. that was until he met you in the kitchen, hand instinctively reaching for the switch to turn on the overhead lights. his breath hitched once he took in your state. legs bare and nipples hard against your plain white shirt that stopped just below your ass. it was like the universe wanted him to sin. “what are you doing awake?” he managed to let out once his eyes stopped taking in your figure. his voice was rough as if he had just woken up from slumber.

“just thirsty.” you mumbled, cheeks getting warm at your semi-exposed state. jeno wasn’t that covered at all, too. he was in his plaid pajama pants that hung low on his waist, and his chest was bare, his toned abs emphasizing under the dim lights.

jeno hummed, walking carefully towards you. “couldn’t sleep?” 

you nodded, instinctively trying to move further away from him, but you bumped into the kitchen island behind you. trapped, you placed your hands against the counter to support yourself, forcing you to meet his eyes. you couldn’t understand the emotion behind them. your mind was getting hazy from his gaze. as much as you wanted to cower and run away, your feet seemed to stop working for some reason.

jeno leaned in slightly, his arms on either side of you as he gripped the edge of the counter, effectively caging you in. your whole body froze, unsure what to do next. all you know is his scent was once again invading your space. his face was so close to you that it reminded you of the night you spent together.

“why do you keep doing this to me?” he whispered, breath fanning your face.

“i’m not doing anything.” you defended, but your voice came out soft.

“exactly.”

jeno kissed you, and you kissed him back. your arms traveled around his neck, pulling him close to you. notwithstanding the fact that the guy you were seeing was in the other room, merely a few steps away from where you were.

the effect jeno had on you was different, almost perplexing. it was like he knew exactly how to get under your skin—like he knew that you would come crawling back to him like how he would to her.

jeno wrapped his arms around your waist. his tongue effortlessly slid into your mouth, twirling it around yours. suddenly, he hoisted your body so that you were sitting on the island counter, making you gasp through the kiss.

“open your legs for me.” he mumbled, pulling away from your lips.

you did as he told, spreading your legs. he stood in between them, giving you another short kiss before his hands traveled to slightly lift the hem of your shirt, just enough to give him the perfect view of your lacy underwear.

jeno groaned once he saw the wet patch forming between your legs. “you just got fucked two hours ago, and you’re still this wet?”

“how did you—“

“you’re not exactly quiet, sweetheart.”

you cowered, head turning away from him, but his fingers caught your chin, forcing you to look at him. his other hand hooking the waistband of your underwear, playing with it.

“can’t believe you’d rather get fucked by him when i’m right here.”

you glared at him. “this is wrong.”

“do you want me to stop?” you stayed silent, making him smirk. “that’s what i thought.”

jeno pulled your underwear down your legs in a painfully deliberate manner, making you swat his arm. he laughed, letting the fabric fall down the floor.

“keep laughing. i can just wake him up, and he’ll do it for me.”

jeno’s laughter faltered, a dark look in his eyes replacing his playful mood. “not fucking funny.” his hand cupped your core, a small yelp escaping your lips. his fingers ran down your folds, spreading your arousal. 

your hands fell to his shoulders, gripping it as he teased your hole. it felt so wrong, but you had clearly decided to throw your morals out the window long ago.

“don’t like seeing you with him.” jeno admitted, his voice low. his confession was supposed to drive you crazy, instead, it felt unfair—like he wasn’t keeping his end of the deal.

“j-jeno.” you moaned, mindful of the volume of your voice. his fingers circled your entrance, just enough to drive you crazy. “you can’t tell me what to do.” you managed to let out, keeping him in place. it was almost absurd how he had the nerve to admit that he didn’t like seeing you with another guy while having a whole girlfriend himself. you bit your tongue back because, well, he was touching you so good, and quite frankly, you didn’t want him to stop.

“maybe,” he hummed before inserting two digits into your entrance. your head dropped to his shoulder, heavily breathing against his skin. he pulled his fingers out before inserting them again, your wetness coating his digits. “but at least i have you moaning my name like the slut you are.”

jeno thrusted his fingers at a pace that had your vision clouded with stars. your fingernails dug into his skin as he curled his fingers, hitting all your sweet spots. you bit your lip to avoid making too much noise, especially since jaemin was just in the room next to yours. his free hand snaked to your hair, gripping it while pulling your head away from his shoulder—careful not to tug on it too harshly—making you look at him in the eye.

“keep quiet. don’t want loverboy to find you grinding on my hand now, do we?” jeno smirked, making your mouth water.

you squirmed at the stretch of his fingers. when he felt you clench around him, he placed his thumb on your clit, rubbing addicting circles on it. his fingers effortlessly sliding in and out of you. his eye contact was overwhelming as he watched you tremble from his mere touch. 

“oh god.” you cried out, face scrunching from the pleasure. your hips bucked against his hand, desperate to feel more.

jeno’s pajamas grew tighter at the sight of you, wishing nothing more than to bend you over and fuck you senseless on this counter—but he couldn’t. not when you just emerged from the room of one of his closest friends, where you did the same activities he wished he could’ve done with you. so he resorted to making you cum just with his fingers.

“be a good girl,” jeno mumbled, pressing his lips against yours. “and cum for me.” he increased the pace in which he was thrusting his digits, each one accompanied by the slight curl of his fingers.

your back arched just by his words, body pushing into him as small gasps left your lips. he almost smiles at the way you looked. so fucking cute, he thought.

“shit—jeno.” you whimpered. your stomach contracted, a clear sign that you were close. and with his thumb doing miracles on your clit, you couldn’t help but cum all over his fingers.

a string of curse words fell from your lips. legs trembling and breath shaking as you rode out your high. your posture nearly giving up as you tried to compose yourself.

jeno pulled his fingers away from your pussy. he couldn’t resist placing them in his mouth, lapping up your juices while maintaining eye contact with you.

that was so hot.

you swatted his arm, feeling shy, but he only chuckled. he leaned down, grabbing your discarded underwear from the floor. “can i keep this?” he boldly asked.

you pondered for a second before quickly snatching the item from his hand. “and if karina finds it?”

jeno grumbled, shoulders slouching from the thought of his girlfriend. “killjoy.” he muttered.

you hopped off the counter, slipping your underwear on. “i gotta go before jaemin wakes up.”

“right.” jeno mumbled, eyes lingering on you for a second, “no goodnight kiss?” he sure was getting comfortable.

“don’t push it.”

you sneaked back into jaemin’s room. his sleeping figure peacefully lying on the bed, almost in the same position you left him in. you nibbled on your bottom lip as guilt started to creep in. you occupied the space next to him. his unconscious self felt your presence, immediately wrapping his arm around your waist. you decided to close your eyes, slumbering taking over you while the weight of your actions sat on you.

you: i need u where are u mark: ??? i am not your sneaky link you: not like that asshole. need someone to talk to mark: diner? you: be there in 10

your eyes scanned the diner, looking for mark’s blond hair to stand out. spotting him at the corner booth, you slid into the empty seat before him. his head looking up to face you, his usual smile plastered on his face.

“hey, nerd.” mark greeted. “you okay? i thought you wanted to fuck me or something.” he chuckled, nudging his plate of fries close to you.

you groaned, head falling to the table. “i’ve had enough of fucking friends for a lifetime.” you mumbled, voice low.

“what’d you say?”

you lifted your head, crossing your arms on top of the table. “you have to promise not to be mad, okay?” you pouted.

“it depends.”

“mark! i’m serious, i don't think i can't take it anymore.” you groaned.

“is this about jeno?”

“what?” your eyes widened, head tilting at him. “not that i’m saying it is, but why did you think that?”

“it’s obvious. you two aren’t hanging as much as you used to. i just figured you got into a fight or something.” mark shrugged, leaning against the chair.

“before i tell you, you have to promise not to judge and that you won’t think any less of me.”

“alright, fine. i promise.” mark raised his hands in defeat.

you let out a sigh before telling him everything. starting from the night of the party—how that one tiny kiss led to the chaos you were now tangled in. you opened up about your feelings for jeno and how conflicted you were now that jaemin’s in the picture. you told him about how guilty you were for doing this to karina. then you moved on to your encounter at jeno and jaemin’s apartment.

mark’s expression shifted throughout your story. his expression juggling between shocked and confused. his brows furrowed in concern, mouth dropping in shock. he let out tiny coughs whenever the story steered into messy territory, his eyes wandering anywhere but on you, trying his best to keep his promise of not judging you.

when you finally finished summarizing everything to him, you covered your face with your hands, ashamed of your story. although your chest felt lighter at the thought of finally confiding about your situation with someone like you had just ripped open a wound and exposed it to the world.

“wow,” mark started, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “that’s… a lot.”

“i know.” you grumbled, looking down at the table.

“but i’m not mad at you.” he quickly assured, his tone gentle. “and i don’t think less of you. after all, you’re still human, y/n. it must’ve been so confusing for you.” his hand reached across the table, taking your hand in his, in an attempt to comfort you. “i won’t lie, this is really messy, but you’re not a horrible person. you just made bad decisions, but it doesn’t mean you’re bad.”

anxiety washed over you, you wanted to believe his words, but a part of you was convinced he was only saying this because he’s your friend. you shook your head, feeling defeated. “i don’t know, mark. i just… i could’ve stopped it, you know? but i felt stuck.” your throat tightened as the words left your mouth. “i was too caught up in this—this fantasy of mine that i didn’t realize i’d be hurting people.”

mark’s thumb drew small circles on the back of your hand. “hey, we’ll figure it out, okay? the first step is being honest—talk to jeno. if you really regret it, tell him this… thing between you has got to stop. he’s your best friend, y/n, and he has a girlfriend, i know it hurts, but we can’t force things to happen.”

he was right. you couldn’t keep doing this to yourself, especially with other people involved.

“yeah.” you whispered, voice cracking as tears welled in your eyes. “i’m sorry, mark.”

“don’t apologize to me.” mark squeezed your hand. “i’ll support you no matter what, but you have got to clean this up. because the longer you wait, the worse it will get.”

you stood outside the lecture hall where jeno was, shifting your weight from one foot to another as you waited for the bell to dismiss his class.

after your conversation with mark and a sleepless night, you decided to confront jeno. the weight on your chest had become unbearable, and you knew it was time to address everything head-on.

“jeno—” you called out as students began to flood out of the room, but your voice faltered when you saw that karina trailed behind him, naturally reaching for his hand. 

jeno’s head turned at the sound of your voice. his eyes widened when they landed on you, surprise evident in his expression. he hesitated before walking toward you, karina following at his side.

“y/n? what’s wrong?” jeno wondered, his tone soft. you weren’t exactly on speaking terms recently, so you looking for his presence was news to him. karina stood beside him, making your stomach twist uncomfortably. she glanced between the two of you, curiosity and perhaps suspicion flickering across her face.

you gave karina a polite nod, barely meeting her eyes. you couldn’t even face her; seeing him with her stung, and you didn’t even have the right to be hurt. she returned the gesture with a tight, hesitant smile. you always sensed that she wasn’t fond of you, you couldn’t blame her—especially with recent events.

“i need to talk to you,” you pleaded, looking up at him. “alone, please?”

karina’s expression shifted, but she said nothing. jeno glanced at her, silently asking for permission. she gave him a nod as jeno mumbled something you couldn’t hear. she let go of his hand after he let her go with a quick peck on the lips, making you avert your gaze elsewhere—the simple act making your chest tighten with jealousy and guilt tangled together.

jeno returned his gaze to you and gestured his hand for you to lead the way.

you ended up at the park located on campus. given your situation, a secluded area wouldn’t be the best for you right now. you and jeno sat on a bench with the perfect fountain view. chatter could be heard from around you, and it somehow eased your senses.

you stayed quiet, pondering on what to say to him. this morning you woke up with a heavy heart. you spent all night thinking about mark’s advice. the events of the past month haunted you. although your time with jaemin had been filled with warmth and laughter, the guilt clawed at your chest, begging to be released. you felt like you couldn’t entirely give yourself to him without addressing the elephant in the room with jeno.

it was unfair—to jaemin, who had been nothing but kind and sweet, and to yourself, for carrying a weight that wasn’t entirely yours to bear. it was also hypocritical, you were doing to jaemin exactly what you hated that jeno was doing to karina.

“y/n?” jeno’s voice bringing you out of your trance. you lifted your head to face him, his eyes filled with sincerity. “are you okay?”

you looked at him as if he had three heads. here you were, almost drowning in guilt, and he couldn’t even sense you were struggling. “are you serious, jeno?” you scoffed, folding your arms across your chest. the frustration you had bottled up spilled before you could register it. “you’re really asking if i’m okay?”

his eyes widened at your outburst, expression turning soft as he tried to read you. “i just—”

“i can’t take it anymore, jeno.” your voice turned soft, sighing. “this—what we’re doing, we can’t.”

“y/n…”

“can you be honest with me?” you asked. he nodded, gaze intent on you. “do you regret it? what we did?”

jeno paused for a second, scanning your exhausted expression. “i don’t want to hurt you.” he mumbled, voice low.

“that’s the thing, though.” you dryly chuckled, running a hand through your hair. “i’m already hurting. do you think it’s easy for me to see you with her, especially after what we’ve done?”

“what—”

“i like you, jeno.” you confessed, watching as his expression twisted into surprise. “i’ve liked you ever since we were kids, and i thought it was just a silly crush, but it’s not. i keep lying to myself that you’ll like me, that maybe you’ll see me the way i see you.” you spilled before you could even stop the words running out of your mouth. “every time you came to me when you fought, i thought that there was a reason you kept seeing me.” you blinked at him. “and i thought that you kissing me meant that you had the tiniest feelings for me, but you’re still with her, i see the way you look at her.”

“y/n, its not like that—”

“then what is it, jeno?” your voice trembled as you took a shaky breath. “because i—i’m losing my mind here, and you’re being… you’re being mean.”

“mean?���

“yes. you don’t have to lie, okay? i know i’m equally responsible for doing this with you, but i feel like i don’t deserve to be lied to. don’t tell me you’ll take care of things, and don’t tell me not to worry because i’ve been waking up worried ever since that happened! and what we did to jaemin the other day…”

“i’m sorry…”

“you love her, jeno. i get it. but do you have any idea how hard it was for me to see you run to her every time? how hard it was for me to pretend like i’m okay with just being your friend?” tears were threatening to spill from your eyes, and you looked up to prevent them from falling.

“i didn’t—i never meant to make you feel this way, y/n.” the guilt in his eyes was so heavy it made your heart ache.

“then what did you mean to do?” you asked, voice barely audible.

“i don’t know.” jeno admitted, “i’m confused, y/n. i care about you a lot, okay? i really do, but i…”

“you love karina.” you finished for him.

jeno stayed silent, and that was all the confirmation you needed. you stood up abruptly, wiping your tears with the back of your hand before turning around to walk away from him, each step feeling heavier than ever

the sound of hurried footsteps followed you, but you refused to look back, not when you were this vulnerable. before you could take another step, a gentle hand on your arm prevented you from moving any further.

“y/n, wait.” jeno pleaded, softly tugging your arm to turn you. your teary eyes meeting his gaze.

“let me go, jeno.” you clenched your jaw, forcing yourself not to cry.

jeno’s grip softened, but he didn’t let go. “give me time.”

you blinked at him, caught off guard. “what?”

“i—let me sort my thoughts first, okay?” jeno stared down at you, his eyes genuine. “i don’t what i’m doing. y/n. but i know that when i’m with you, it feels…right.”

“that’s not fair.” you frowned, shaking your head. “it’s not fair to her, and it’s not fair to me.” his words did nothing to ease the ache in your heart.

“i know, but…” his eyes never left yours. “i don’t want to lose you.” 

you let out a bitter laugh, wiping your tears. “you don’t get to have it both ways, jeno. you can’t just keep me on the side while you figure yourself out.”

“i’m not trying to,” he said, stepping closer to you. his hand trailed down your arm to hold yours. your eyes widened, and you grew aware of the fact that you were in public. “please, just—wait for me.”

you opened your mouth to respond, to tell him how unfair he was being. but before you could muster up the words, his lips captured yours in a kiss that was soft but so desperate. the action filled with longing, as if it contained all the words he couldn’t say.

the world faded away as if you were the only people there, and all you could feel was him—his lips on yours. you hated yourself for it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

your mouth moved against his before you heard chatter around you, making you push his body off of you. he kept his hand on yours, refusing to let go.

“don’t walk away, yet.” jeno pleaded. “i’ll make things right. i’ll talk to her and figure it out. i promise.”

his words sent a pang through your chest, making you shake your head. “how am i supposed to believe you, jeno? you always went back to her regardless. how do i know this isn’t just another moment you’ll regret?”

jeno pondered for a second, “i’ll be honest with her. i’ll tell her everything.”

“and then what?”

“and then,” he brought your hand up to his mouth, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. “i’ll come and find you.”

your breath hitched at the sincerity of his voice. you wanted to believe him, but the ache banging against your chest reminded you of the risk. taking a deep breath, you stepped back slightly, breaking his hold on your hand.

“i’ll give you time, jeno.” your voice was soft but firm. “but you need to figure this out, really figure it out, before i can even think about…” you trailed off, unsure about what to label the entire situation.

jeno nodded, determination in his eyes. “i’ll call you, okay?”

and with that, you turned and walked away, your heart pounding with both hope and fear as you left him standing there.

the day had slipped into the evening. jeno walked into the halls of his apartment, the soft glow of the sun casting shadows across the room, reminding him how long it had been since your conversation earlier.

he pondered how he would bring the situation up with karina. no matter how hard he tried, he could no longer bury this secret. his mind kept drifting back to you, to how you looked so disappointed in him, and every time it did, his chest tightened with the thought of how things would never be the same again.

jeno loved karina. every time he closed his eyes, there she was—her face, her smile. she was his anchor, the one thing in his life that he couldn’t discard. they knew each other’s flaws and strengths. they argued, but they always bounced back from it. sure, they had their differences, but they always got through it, finding their way to one another.

i’ve always loved her. jeno thought. that’s how it always was.

but you… you were different.

you were his best friend—the one who knew him. you had been there for him since day one. you experienced life together, laughing over stupid inside jokes, supporting different decisions, and comforting each other through the toughest times. you were his safety net. the person who he knew he could rely on when it felt like the world was against him.

jeno sighed, running a hand through his hair. he had always considered you family—how could he not? 

the thought of losing you terrified him. although he would be lying if he said he hadn’t had these flashes filled with thoughts of you. he’s used to dismissing them; it was you, for fuck’s sake. you had been his best friend for so long that even thinking of you differently felt crazy to him. but now, looking back to everything—the way his heart would race when your eyes met in a crowded room, the way his smile would reach his eyes when you laughed at something he said, the way he could always see you in the back of his mind—it all felt so clear.

realization came crashing down on him. his mind racing with thoughts of you. he thought it was just some passing attraction. but it was deeper than that. you were the only person who made him feel seen, the only one who showed him warmth. feelings he couldn’t even seek in karina, despite the love they shared. it terrified him.

he was too scared to admit it. he could no longer pretend. how could he? knowing a part of him belonged to someone else—someone who was not his girlfriend. 

he felt sick, the guilt gnawing at him. he loved karina… didn’t he? his feelings for you were uncertain, fleeting… wasn’t it?

jeno opened the door to his bedroom, and his eyes widened at the sight.

“karina?” jeno questioned, brows furrowing. “what are you doing here?”

“jaemin let me in.” karina replied abruptly. her arms across her chest, an unreadable expression plastered on her face. she was sitting on the edge of the bed as if she was waiting for hours.

jeno set his things down on his desk before approaching karina. instinctively reaching up to kiss her, but she turned her head, his kiss landing on her cheek.

“what’s wrong, babe?” jeno asked, curiosity lacing his voice.

“you tell me.” karina responded, fishing for her phone in her pocket. a confused expression latched on jeno’s face as he watched her tap away on her phone. she raised her phone and shoved it in his face. “care to explain?”

his heart stopped. the color drained from his face as he stared at the photo she was showing.

it was you and jeno—kissing.

he could tell from your outfits that the photo was taken earlier that day, during your heated conversation near campus.

jeno’s mouth went dry as he racked up a response. “i—“ he stammered, words failing to come out.

“don’t try to lie.” karina interrupted, her brow raising. “winter sent it to me. we both know she wouldn’t fabricate such things.”

jeno’s stomach dropped. of course, they were seen, they weren’t exactly keeping it private. “karina…” he started, thinking of words to say to her.

what exactly do you say at this moment? 

“that’s y/n, isn’t it?” karina scoffed, standing up, her height barely meeting his. “i always knew she was a whore.”

“don’t say that.” jeno’s tone shifted, eyes darkening as his voice got firm.

“what?” karina asked incredulously.

“she’s not a whore.”

“are you seriously fucking defending her right now? she kissed you! my boyfriend!” karina spat.

“i kissed her.” jeno admitted, his gaze all over her face.

karina nearly lost balance at his confession. “you—what!” she exclaimed, a frown forming on her lips.

“i kissed y/n.” jeno repeated, his gaze unwavering. “and it isn’t the first time we kissed.”

“what the fuck are you saying?” karina’s voice cracked, disbelief was written all over her face.

“i slept with her on the night of the retreat.”

karina’s eyes widened. “jeno—“

“i started it. i think i’ve known for a while, but i refused to face it.” jeno couldn’t even fathom the words he was spitting out. “i think i’m in love with her.” he admitted, more

the room fell silent at the weight of his confession. the burden lifted off his chest as he comprehended what he had spilled.

“i can’t believe this.” karina shook her head, a bitter, sarcastic laugh slipping past her lips. “after my friends told me i’m way too good for you. you fucking cheated on me? with some bitch?”

“don’t drag her into this. it’s my fault.”

“fuck you.” karina spat, prodding a finger on his chest. “and fuck her, too.”

karina stormed out of the room, pulling the door wide and loud enough to cause a commotion.

jeno called after her, “karina, wait. i’m sorry!” he followed her through the hall.

“sorry?” karina shot back, spinning around to face him. “sorry you got caught, or sorry you have a homewrecker for a best friend?”

jeno winced at her words. “i’m sorry for what i did.” he replied softly. “for hurting you. you didn’t deserve that.”

karina stared up at jeno, eyes glistening as his previous confession came crashing down on her. “i never want to see you again, jeno.” she said, voice breaking before she turned and walked out, slamming the door behind her.

jeno stood frozen in the hallway—the ghost of their conversation haunting the air.

“dude…” jaemin’s voice cut through the thick silence.

jeno turned to the source of his voice, a sullen expression on jaemin’s face. he was standing in the doorway of his room, clearly having heard the entire conversation.

“jaemin!” jeno exclaimed, completely forgetting his roommate was next door. “did you—“

“you’re in love with y/n?” jaemin cut him off, his expression unreadable. he tilted his head as he looked at jeno. “why didn’t you tell me?” he crossed his arms across his chest.

jeno opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. he took a second before letting out a sigh. “i couldn’t—i wasn’t sure.” he admitted.

“did you… sleep with her when we were together?” jaemin treaded lightly, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer.

“no! no, we didn’t.” jeno defended, shaking his head. technically it wasn’t a lie. a little fingering doesn’t count as fucking, right?

“i see.” jaemin nodded, a weary look on his face. “i don’t think i can continue seeing her then.” he frowned, rubbing the back of his neck.

“what?”

“you love her, man.” jaemin sent him a small, sad smile. “i don’t want to stand between you.”

“but you said—“

“don’t get me wrong. she’s beautiful and amazing.” jaemin interrupted, holding a hand up. “but you’ve been there for each other since you were kids. i could never stand a chance.” he shrugged. his expression softening.

jeno swallowed, his chest tightening. he never meant for this to happen. jaemin is one of his best friends, and he had betrayed him. “she likes you, jaems.” 

“but she loves you.” jaemin lifelessly chuckled. he took a step closer to jeno, placing his hand on his shoulder, and giving it a firm squeeze. “go get her, jeno.”

taking a deep breath, jeno smiled at jaemin. he knew what he had to do.

you anxiously stared at your phone, as if guarding it would make a notification pop up.

the entire night had been a blur of pacing around your room. the events of your conversation with jeno are stuck in an endless loop in your mind. you hated feeling this way, as if your heart was at someone else’s mercy.

“come on…” you muttered to yourself, checking your phone once more. nothing. just the same blank lock screen.

you sighed, flopping onto your bed and letting the pillows engulf your head. your chest felt heavy. what took him so long? he said he would fix things—was it a lie? maybe he changed his mind. maybe he—

your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. your heart jumped as you grabbed it, only for your heart to sink even deeper. it wasn’t jeno.

it was jaemin.

jaemin: hey, y/n. jaemin: i’m sorry to message so late. jaemin: i think it’s best if we stop seeing each other. jaemin: i’m sorry.

your head began to spin. your eyes scan his message repeatedly, trying to make sense of it.

what? your mind raced. this wasn’t what you expected. why would jaemin reach out? and why was his timing odd?

your fingers danced over the keyboard, thinking of a response. a hundred of questions swirled in your head. was this because of jeno? did something happen between them? did he find out what happened in his kitchen that one night?

you: did i do something wrong?

jaemin replied almost immediately.

jaemin: you deserve someone who can give you their all, and i don’t think i can. jaemin: take care, y/n.

your brows twisted into confusion. his response made you even more curious. his words sounded kind, almost too rehearsed. it was as if something was missing, and you couldn’t figure out what.

you stared at the screen, blinking at his message. your emotions swirling wildly between confusion, frustration, and hurt. and still nothing from jeno.

what the fuck was going on?

another buzz came from your phone. instantly checking it, your confusion growing deeper.

karina: never knew you were into boys who had girlfriends karina: *sent one photo*

holy shit.

you sat up in bed, heart banging against your chest. eyes refusing to leave the photo of you and jeno, openly kissing each other from earlier.

and karina knows.

your hands trembled, throat feeling tight. you dropped your phone on your bed and rushed out of your room. tears blurred your vision as the gravity of the situation finally sank in. you had no idea what to do, the room felt like it was shrinking by the second. you needed someone.

without thinking, you rushed out of your room and ran to chaewon’s. you banged on her door, your knuckles trembling as tears flowed down your face.

the door opened almost immediately, revealing chaewon in her pajamas, her eyes widening as she saw your state.

“y/n? babe, what’s wrong?” she instinctively wrapped her arms around you, her hand caressing the back of your head to console you.

“i fucked up.” you cried out, sniffling against her shirt, but knowing her, she doesn’t mind. “i didn’t—i wasn’t—” you stammered, head feeling light.

chaewon hummed, “hey, hey, it’s okay. slow down.” she pulled away just enough to see your face, “whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, okay?”

“chae, i—“ you gasped, unable to stop the tears from gushing out. “i need to tell you something.”

soon enough, you both sat on chaewon’s bed while she tried to comfort you. you told her everything, sparing no details. she sat silently while intently listening to your spew. from repeating your confession to mark to your encounter with jeno earlier, down to jaemin’s cryptic texts—and finally, the photo karina had sent you. by the time you finished, chaewon had a worried expression from your entire story.

“y/n…” chaewon began, and you flinched lightly. you knew she was serious; she would usually refer to you using endearments or your nickname, but the lack thereof told you she was not in the mood to tolerate your actions. “this is serious. i love you to death, but you fucked up.”

“i know,” you sniffled, wiping away the tears with the tissue she previously handed to you. “i don’t know what to do.”

chaewon let out a deep sigh, grasping your hand in hers. “first off,” she reached up and helped you wipe your tears. “you need to stop beating yourself up. i know you’re in a sticky situation, but falling apart isn’t going to help you figure it out.”

you nodded, even though her words hadn’t completely eased your mind.

“and second,” she continued, voice growing softer. “i know you won’t like it, but you need to stay away from jeno for a while. let him sort his shit out. give him time.”

even though you refused to face it, the weight of her words eventually sunk in. she was right. it would be unfair for you to force jeno to make his decision immediately, especially since he is in a relationship.

after a long night of sobbing in chaewon’s arms. you eventually passed out beside her, with the thoughts of jeno being the last thing you remembered.

lightning struck across the campus as you exited the library, tugging your coast closer in an attempt to shield yourself from the downpour. you silently cursed yourself for forgetting to bring an umbrella today. looking up at the sky, you wondered if you could bolt through the pouring rain.

it has been a week since your last encounter with jeno. it would be a lie if you said you were doing fine. every passing minute made you even more anxious. he had made some efforts to reach out to you—sending you texts, calling your phone, and even talking to your friends to ask and see you. but your guilt was weighed heavier than your longing, and you had convinced yourself that you couldn’t face him. not yet.

you stuck with chaewon’s advice; you gave him space. although you felt like the distance was killing you more than him.

you missed jeno. how could you not? he was your best friend. you were so used to being so close to him that the space between you was foreign. you missed having him over and talking about everything and nothing all at once. you missed hearing his voice and his comforting laugh. a smile crept up on your face every time you looked back at your memories with him, making you feel ridiculous.

it was foolish of you to think that you could sway him into thinking that you were the one for him. he always loved karina and you were afraid that it was what his heart was heading towards.

you tried reaching out to karina. you sent her an text even though you knew words alone wouldn’t be enough to mend the damage. once you saw that your message bounced back, you tried again on another platform, the same thing happened. you realized she had blocked you on every social media app. you don’t blame her, of course. you had to live with the pain you caused her.

you clutched your bag tightly before running out in the rain. your apartment was a ten-minute walk from campus—maybe less if you ran. the cold droplets seeped through your clothes as you hurried along the wet pavement, shivering as the storm grew.

you nearly reached your apartment when a car screeched to a halt in front of you, its headlights glaring through the rain, clouding your vision. your brows furrowed as you used your hand to shield the bright light. squinting as you tried to make out who was behind the wheel through the rain. the car door opened, revealing a tall figure emerging from the driver’s seat.

jeno.

“what are you doing out here in the rain?” jeno raised his voice enough for you to hear him through the sound of the rain hitting the pavement.

“i didn’t have a choice.” you admitted, your voice trembling from the cold and the sight of him. you watched, puzzled, as he left the warmth of his car to stand in the rain with you, water drenching his hair and clothes.

“aren’t you freezing?” jeno questioned, shrugging off his soaked coat and gently draping it around your shoulders.

“aren’t you?” you looked at him with wide eyes. the rain dripping down his face did him justice, he still looked beautiful.

“you’ve been avoiding me,” he said, tone turning soft. deja vu. “why?”

“i thought you needed time.”

“i said i would come and find you.” his eyes locked on yours.

“karina sent me—“

“i know.” he interrupted. “i told her everything.”

your heart sped up. “how’d she take it?”

“we broke up.” he said, the weather matching his tone. “for real this time.”

“oh.”

“oh?” his brows furrowed, taking a step towards you. “that’s all you have to say? oh?”

“well, what do you want me to say?” you frowned. “thank you for breaking up with your girlfriend for me?”

“i didn’t—you know it wasn’t like that.”

“then what is it, jeno?”

“it’s you.” jeno said. even with the rain surrounding him, you heard him loud and clear. “it’s always been you.”

you blinked up at him, stunned, lips quivering.

“i was too blind to see it,” he continued, stepping closer until your chests were nearly brushing one another. “too scared to admit it. but it’s you, y/n. it’s always been you.”

your heart pounded as he raised his hands to cup your face. his gaze was soft and focused on you. only you.

and then his lips were on yours, warm despite the storm. you melted into the kiss, your hands clutching at his soaked shirt as the noise of the rain started to drown out. the kiss was soft but so full of emotion that it left you breathless.

“jeno…” you whispered once you pulled away, his forehead resting against yours. “i missed you.” you admitted, voice trembling.

“i missed you, too.” he mumbled, his lips brushing yours. “i’m not letting you go again.”

“kiss me.”

jeno didn’t hesitate. his lips found yours once again, kissing you softly but quickly turning passionately. his hand copper your cheek as his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, asking for permission. you parted your lips, and he immediately shoved his tongue in your mouth, exploring it with hunger. a soft whimper escaped you as his hands slid down to grip your waist, pulling you closer.

“need you,” he murmured, pulling away lightly. your gaze flickered briefly towards his car, and as if he had read your mind, he took your hand and guided you to his vehicle.

jeno parked the car on the side of the road, grateful that the rain had driven everyone to stay indoors. the windows fogged almost instantly as you both scrambled into the back seat, the heat between you radiating.

jeno’s hand found you once more, gripping your waist as he pulled you onto his lap. your legs straddling either sides of his thigh. he pressed his lips against yours, kissing you like he had been holding back for years. the rain was pounding on the roof of the car, but neither of you cared.

you could barely think, lost in the sensation of his touch as he slid down your coats. your heart beat against your chest once you made eye contact with him. you could make out the sharp lines of his face through the soft glow of the moon. your hand reaching up to caress his cheek, not believing that you had him in your clutches.

“what’s wrong?” jeno asked. “do you want me to stop?”

“no.” you instantly responded, shaking your head. “i just can’t believe it.”

“can’t believe what?” jeno’s lips trailed down your jawline, kissing and sucking on your skin.

“that you’re mine.”

“better believe it, baby. i’m not going anywhere.” jeno chuckled, kissing you again. his lips molded with yours slowly and sweetly. you pressed your body against his, hips instinctively grinding down on him.

“want you so bad.” jeno groaned, his hand reaching down to the hem of your shirt. looking up to you for confirmation, and when you showed no signs of refusal, he lifted the fabric off your body. leaving you in your soaked dark bra. “my beautiful girl.”

you grew shy beneath his gaze, trailing one finger down to the zipper of his jeans. “how bad?” you breathed, toying with his pants, feeling him grow hard below you.

“so fucking bad. i’ve been dreaming of having you again.” jeno admitted, hands roaming your body. reaching behind you to unclasp your bra—which he did effortlessly. once your breasts were on full display for him, he couldn’t help but attach his mouth to your nipple, enclosing his lips around the bud while his fingers circled the other. you moaned, arching your back, pushing your breasts closer to him.

in a swift motion, jeno’s shirt and pants were pulled off him and discarded somewhere in the car. your bottoms and underwear, too, were slid off your body. leaving the both of you breathless and naked.

jeno laid you down on the backseat, carefully trying to maneuver himself between your legs. his gaze on your completely bare body, all waiting and craving for him.

“you’re driving me insane, did you know that?” jeno mumbled, tracing his fingers over your delicate body. from your chest, down to your stomach, and in between your legs. “couldn’t stop thinking of you. no matter how hard i tried, i could always see your pretty face.”

jeno’s fingers ghosted over your entrance, making your breath hitch. his digits toying with your slick, spreading them up and down your folds. “so wet and ready for me, hm?” he teased, watching you squirm from his touch.

“j-jeno.” you whimpered, hips bucking as he circled your clit.

“so cute,” he whispered, almost entirely to himself. he inserted two fingers into your pussy, making you gasp. your hands fly to his shoulder to grip it for support. “you like that, baby?”

“y-yes, so good.” you cried out, making him smirk. he pulled his fingers out ever so slightly before thrusting them in again. keeping his pace steady as your pussy swallowed his digits.

“want to taste your sweet pussy.” jeno said, pulling his fingers off of you before sliding his body to the floor of the car. “sit up for me, baby.” he instructed, and you immediately followed. sitting up while he kneeled in front of you. “good girl.”

jeno wrapped his arms under and over your thighs, pulling your pussy close to his face. he inhaled your scent before darting his tongue out, licking your folds. you moaned out his name as his tongue circled your clit while his fingers returned to your core. he easily thrust his fingers in, curling them just the way you liked it while his mouth relentlessly sucked on your clit.

“oh god.” you moaned. your hand falling to grip his damp hair, tugging on it.

jeno’s rhythm was perfect. his fingers and tongue were in harmony as he pleasured you. you were a trembling mess from his touch, each movement of his threatening your orgasm to come even closer.

“you’re so fucking sweet.” he hummed against you, sending vibrations throughout your entire body. a jolt of pleasure coursing through you as he pressed his tongue flat against your clit, while his fingers increased in pace. “gonna cum for me, baby?”

you nodded, the familiar tight knot forming in the pit of your stomach. with just a few thrusts of his fingers, you came crashing down. you clenched around him as you rode out your high. his pace decreased while his tongue lapped up your cum. you shivered from the sensation, chest heaving from your orgasm.

jeno smiled before leaning up and pressing a sweet kiss on your lips, tasting remnants of your arousal on his lips. “ready for me, baby?”

“hurry up.”

jeno chuckled, taking a seat beside you. “ride me, princess?” he tilted his head, almost in a pleading manner.

you climbed on his lap, supporting yourself on his shoulder while your other hand reached in between your bodies to align his cock with your entrance. you teasingly rubbed the tip of his length against your slit, watching him bite his lip at the sight.

“stop teasing me. i need you so badly,” jeno grunted, his large hands reaching behind your back.

you smiled before sinking down on his cock, mouth falling agape at his size.

“oh fuck.” you whispered once he was fully buried into you. you caught your lip in between your teeth as your walls adjusted to his cock. his hands rubbing soothing motions on your back as he watched you with dark eyes.

“slowly, baby.” jeno assured, pressing a soft kiss on your lips.

you slowly started to bounce on his cock. the sensation was burning but quickly turned into pleasure. you held onto his shoulders as you increase your pace, 

“fuck, fuck.” jeno chanted, head falling against the headrest. “so tight and warm for me.”

whines slipped past your lips with each bounce, the tip of his cock perfectly kissing your cervix.

“s-so big.” you let out, nails digging into his shoulders.

jeno lifted his head, his eyes falling to your breasts, watching as they bounced right in front of his face. his mouth caught one of your nipples, tongue circling the sensitive bud.

the car shook with every movement you made. the window fogging and the scent of sex filling the air. you gasped as jeno’s fingers reached between your bodies, thumb circling your clit. your legs started to burn from riding him, so you sank further and began grinding on him.

“holy shit.” jeno cursed, pulling away from your nipple. his free hand gripping your hip to guide you, pushing you further down on his cock.

“i-i can’t—“you cried, tears forming in your eyes. legs growing weak with every grind.

“you can do it, baby. fuck yourself on my cock like the good girl you are.”

jeno’s words sent shocks through your body, moaning loudly as you chased your high. the stretch of his cock was enough to cloud your vision with stars. feeling lightheaded as you rocked yourself forward, the friction drove you insane.

“fuck, that’s it, baby. almost there.” jeno groaned, his voice deep.

you were cumming in no time as jeno increased his pace in circling your clit. your body squirming as you clenched around his cock. but jeno’s grip didn’t falter, still guiding you to grind your hips and you did. helping him reach his climax.

“shit—i’m gonna cum. where do you want it?”

“inside, jen.”

“fuck, i love you.” jeno grunted, making your eyes widen. with a throaty moan escaping his lips, his cum painted your walls. you gasped as his cock twitched inside you. catching his breath, he placed a kiss on your lips before flashing you a lazy smile.

“what did you say?” you questioned, an evident smile on your lips.

jeno’s grin faltered, a flush of embarrassment replacing his expression. “i love you, y/n.” he repeated more confidently. “i’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

“i love you, too, jeno.”

relief washed over him as he cupped your cheek, pulling you into a kiss that was slow, sweet, and filled with every unspoken word between you.

in that moment, the outside world ceased to exist. it was just you and jeno, wrapped in a love that had always been there.

“do we have to go?” jeno groaned dramatically, burying himself under your covers as if the mere thought of leaving your apartment was too much to bear.

you couldn’t help but giggle at him. grabbing his shirt from the ground and putting it on. the oversized fabric falling just above your thighs. “yes, jeno. we promised them, remember?”

jeno peeked beneath the comforter, his dark and messy hair sticking up in different directions. his gaze falling to your almost bare state. he sat up to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap, making you squeal. “why go to some party, when we could just stay here? in bed? loving each other?”

you playfully smacked his arm, although secretly loving his treatment. “because, baby, we said we’d be there. and besides,” you added, turning to face him with a smirk. “don’t you want to show off your girlfriend?”

the corner of jeno’s mouth lifted into a wide grin. “girlfriend, huh?” his voice laced with pride. “let’s go. but only because i love the sound of that.”

the loud music echoed throughout the house party. you and jeno entered together, his fingers intertwined with yours. as you both navigated the crowd, you spotted chaewon, mark, and haechan all hunched up together near the kitchen.

“y/n! jeno!” chaewon greeted, sending a wave over to the both of you. “what took you so long?” she engulfed you into a hug.

you returned her hug with a laugh. “it’s his fault.” you teased, nodding in jeno’s direction.

“hogging our girl all to yourself, lee?” mark raised a brow, smirking as he took a sip from his cup.

“correction,” jeno playfully glared, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. “she’s my girl.”

“barf.” haechan made a gagging motion, scrunching his face. “can’t believe we lived to see the day these two finally get together.”

“finally?” jeno questioned, a knowing smirk on his face as he faced you.

“y/n had a massive crush on you—” haechan singsong tone was cut short by your swift swat to his arm.

“okay, that’s enough!” you interrupted, dragging jeno away to grab some drinks. “let’s get drunk, shall we?”

jeno chuckled, pulling your body flush against him. he captured your lips into a soft kiss, the chaos of the party fading into the background.

as the night went on, the teasing and laughter continued. jeno stayed close, his hand never leaving yours. it felt good—natural—to finally not be afraid. throughout the evening, you caught him staring at you on multiple occasions. his eyes filled with adoration every single time, your heart felt content, and you knew this was exactly where you were meant to be.

[moonlight-prose]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 01. IN DREAMS WE REST

a/n: i've been stressed about this fic probably more than any other i've ever written. not because it's logan per se, but because wade wilson makes me want to rip my hair out. i love that bastard, but writing him feels like pulling teeth. i'm in love with this concept solely for the angst, so if you see more throughout and wonder if they will ever get a happy ending, please know i'm dead inside. enjoy!

summary: stuck in another universe and unsure of where he stands, logan expects things to even out as they always did. but when you cross his path and you have no idea who he is, he's in for a rude awakening.

word count: 5.9k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, wade wilson breaking the fourth wall, angst, cussing so much cussing, alcohol consumption, grief, pain, a broken man pretending he's not broken, chance encounters, awkward conversations, hope.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

He can hear it when he sleeps.

Their screams.

The constant ring of agony that chimes out like a bell, an alarm he never set for himself. A joke once told to him in the midst of World War II, as bullets flew by him and soldiers lost their lives each second of each day. There's no escape from hell. No running from the devil that nipped at his heels the faster he went, the longer he tried to navigate a way free.

There's no escape from the memories that ate away in his mind. Multitudes of them, of the faces he once called family, the people he used to love. They were his punishment. The boulder he continued to roll up the hill, day after day after day. Until eventually...he was crushed by his own self-hatred.

"Logan." The voice whispered long enough for him to grasp who it might be, yet never louder than a mere breath of air.

He clung to it some days. Sunk his claws into what little of his past remained good and allowed it to fill him with some amount of peace. At least then he'd be able to bear this weight, this grief he could never quite name.

Something light brushed across his cheek. Tickling the skin enough to send a flare of irritation down his spine, but the dreams held him in their grasp. What came next never surprised him. He expected it at this point—longed for it. The distant pain of losing what once made him whole; the entirety of his life now defined by one single moment he could never change.

"He sleeps so sweetly. I just want to curl up in his arms and have him read me bedtime stories."

"He's not gonna like that when he wakes up."

"Zip it Al. If I wanted an opinion, I'd go see a Hollywood therapist."

A scoff echoed in the background. "No therapist wants you on their couch."

"Not true. I hear Ryan Reynolds has a great one."

"Who?"

"Not the point." The feather dusted across Logan's face again, soft enough to keep him asleep yet annoying enough to bring a smile to Wade's face. "I wonder if he's dreaming about killing bad guys. They say it's good for the soul."

"Who the fuck is they?"

Wade laughed. "Oh you know. Them. The readers. And boy howdy do they love their blood."

Every day he was forced to listen to Wade's voice became another day Logan dragged his claw through a tally mark of his sanity. "Do you ever shut the fuck up," he growled, gripping Wade's wrist until he heard the satisfying crack of bones.

"Only when I swallow."

"I'll tear your fuckin' arm off."

The smile on Wade’s face only added another tally. "Nice kitty. No need for the claws."

Anger washed across his skin in a familiar wave as he released Wade's arm, watching it go limp. Trying to kill the unkillable walking irritation was like trying to swat a fly that never quite died. It still buzzed incessantly. Until eventually madness was the only viable option of dealing with it. In his case, he seemed to be driving head on with no brakes.

Logan wasn't sure he possessed enough sanity left within him to keep dealing with this. Sleeping on the couch didn't help the way his body never rested; always stuck in that permanent fighting mode. He'd give anything to find some peace. A small sliver of it carved off the past that continued to call him—that begged him to come back and try again.

Swinging his legs off the couch, he planted a swift kick to Wade's chest that sent him across the floor. The lack of caffeine in his system left everything hazy and half coherent. If he focused he might have caught the keys thrown at him, but being exhausted and sober didn't make for a good combination with him. An empty whiskey bottle lay discarded on the floor from last night; the memories of how he passed out barely tinged on the edge of his mind.

He could recall stabbing Wade in the leg.

Nothing beyond that.

Dried blood—now an ugly brown—stained his white shirt. He nearly stripped himself of it, prepared to throw it in with whoever was washing next, but his flannel being chucked at his head caught him off guard.

"Fuck off," he snapped, stumbling to the kitchen.

Wade sighed, following him. "Get dressed, peanut. We have to go do human things today."

"Human–”

"Food," Al retorted. "We're out."

Even in a new universe, he couldn't see himself acting normal. For so long he did what had to in order to survive. Yet now...he wasn't so sure. Accompanying Wade Wilson in order to complete household chores left a bad taste in his mouth. But the thought of fresh coffee and an unopened bottle of whiskey sounded like sweet silver bells in his head.

With reluctance, he buttoned up half of the flannel before he became annoyed with the small size of the holes punched into the fabric. There was only so much he could do with the life he had now. And sometimes shit really sucked.

"Don't scratch my fucking car," Al pointed her words towards Wade, thankfully ignoring Logan's existence for a brief moment.

"Is it safe for her to own a car?"

The door shut behind him with a bang, echoing down the vacant hallway. He was surprised people actually lived here given Wade's antics. They could hear the loud mouthed fucker across the street—if the angry notes in the mail were anything to go by. He didn't bother asking if he should be concerned with any of it. Not when he had no say in how the house was run. And choosing to insert himself where he wasn’t needed, rarely went well for him.

"God no. But I give her the benefit of the doubt. She hasn't killed anyone. Yet."

He yanked the keys out of Wade's hand. "Yeah well I don't trust you either Bub."

The car didn't leave room for his legs as he squeezed into the driver's side. His body practically folded in half as he turned it over—the rumble of the engine rattling against metal. How Blind Al managed to pay for this vehicle went beyond even Wade's knowledge, and in all honesty…he was too fucking scared to ask.

Too much seemed to be happening for him to ever catch up. While this Earth felt similar to his, small things were different. And when they began to add up...he began to wonder if he was drowning.

"Turn left to merge onto the asscrack of traffic."

He barely heard the directions as he drove, his mind drifting the further they went. Part of him sensed the grief from earlier begin to claw up the back of his throat. It begged him to fall, to be swallowed whole by the darkness he'd been stuck in before. And he nearly gave in; could feel his body shift into its constant mode of fight or flight.

The steering wheel cracked under his white knuckled grip as Wade's voice became an afterthought to the war he fought in his mind. Terror trapped itself in his throat and he slammed his foot on the brakes a foot away from a parking spot in retaliation. The car lurched forward, his claws descended. A snarl rumbled in his chest the longer he sat there thinking.

"Woah..." For the first time in days, Wade fell silent. "You alright?"

Logan ripped himself free, shoving his body out of the car before he even threw it in park. He gulped in breath after breath and did his best to wait for this fucking feeling to leave his system. The nightmares only came as he slept. A constant familiar horror show after two centuries.

Yet now he was left like this. Leaned up against a car, his eyes closed shut, and heart racing.

All because he couldn't do his fucking job.

"Logan–"

He snapped, shoving past Wade and his pity that choked him with a vengeance. He didn't deserve anyone's pity. He didn't want it. But people couldn't help but hand it over unconsciously. As if they could see the layers of broken pieces beneath his false expression of strength. Logan never pretended to be okay. Why bother with something people could see right through?

He merely wanted others to ignore he was there. Walk past him, look through him, do whatever it took to pretend that him and all his tragedies weren't standing before them. Because one day he would die and fuck how he couldn't wait for that time to come.

A small hole in the wall dive bar sat in the corner of the shopping center. He barely caught sight of it. But the unmistakable scent of alcohol poured out the door as someone stumbled out—their eyes squeezed shut against the harsh brightness of the sun. He could understand them in a way.

His world didn't have sunlight this bright. Or perhaps he never noticed it ‘til now.

Maybe his body wasn't acclimated yet; unsure of what the fuck was still happening. Everything seemed to be turned up to eleven for him, yet no off switch existed.

The dark hazy glow of the interior sent a wave of calm through him as the door swung shut with a soft thud. Four people sat scattered around the place and a bartender with white and graying hair stood cleaning a glass so foggy it was probably better to throw it out. He found himself letting out a breath that'd been trapped in his chest since that morning. Finally some peace before he had to listen to Wade yap about bullshit he didn't in fact give a shit about.

"What'll you have?" the old man asked, his face screwing up in a wince as he limped towards Logan's spot at the end of the bar.

A quick glance down let him see the brace wrapped around the man's knee. "Whiskey on the rocks."

He nodded, slowly heading towards the center of the wall—a lonesome half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter. Logan shifted, taking the center seat directly behind the man.

"I can't say I've seen you around before son."

He grinned, his finger tracing a random carving that'd been placed in the wood. "I just moved here. Living with a coworker."

"Coworker huh?"

The word didn't sound right to Logan, but he couldn't exactly call Wade his friend. Although they were more than people who fought together, more than men who shared blood during the same battle. That was the thing about Logan though. He'd never be able to put a label on something like that. To him...things weren't one or the other as much as he wanted to pretend they were. There was nuance to his life.

Complications which made living that much harder.

The man turned, surprised to see Logan so close, but didn't make note of it. Logan could see the gratitude in the way his drink was slid carefully to him. The small silent thank you in the bowl of pretzels placed beside it.

"You look lost."

Logan grunted, biting into the salty and dry snack. "Do I?"

"More than some of the others that come around here."

"And who comes around here?"

The man laughed. "No one as of late. You're the first young man I've seen in a while walk through those doors."

He bit back his laugh at the word young. The stories he could tell would leave the man baffled. About wars that no living person had witnessed. About when the world was far different than today—when mutants were freaks of nature and humans were far less forgiving. He could list it all and then some.

But whether or not someone would listen was another thing entirely.

"This place that old?" he inquired, sipping on the amber liquid with a contented sigh.

"Oh you bet." A weary laugh filled the space. "I bought this place in the sixties. When my wife was still my girlfriend. She almost left me because of it."

Logan huffed, his lips curling slightly. "She wasn't a fan?"

The man shook his head, tossing a cloth over his shoulder. "Still isn't. Well she...wasn't." He pressed his thumb to the worn gold band on his left hand. "When she was alive she used to host a book night. Helped bring in the men's wives. Kept them outta trouble."

"Book night huh?"

"She loved to read."

Before he could down the final sips of his drink it was topped off. Logan nodded his head in thanks, his thumb digging into the thumbprint shape of the glass. If he thought about it hard enough, he could almost see himself coming here every night. He pictured a life far different than his own, a past where he might have been happy. With someone who might have even made him smile.

"I'm not much of a reader," he replied, his voice hoarse and eyes fixed on the ice that floated to the surface.

"Ah me too," the man laughed. "I just liked seeing her smile."

A soft remark was on the tip of his tongue before an entirely new image began to take shape. The face of someone lost. Of a smile he'd known better than his own. Hands that once held his face with the tenderness of a lover—a voice that sent the hair rising on the back of his neck. He could see it as clear as he did the man.

You in all your beauty. Lost to a past he could no longer rectify.

He swallowed thickly, beating back every emotion that crawled under his skin. "What's your name?"

"Travis."

Raising his glass, he tipped it towards the man with a tight grin. "Logan." The alcohol went down with a quick and biting burn. A feeling he'd grown familiar with. One he counted on.

"Nice to meet you Logan."

"Yeah you too."

He dug out some cash and tossed it on the bar as he stood with a slight grunt. He may heal quickly but the ache in his bones still existed. As if something resisted against how his body moved with each slow shift.

Fighting meant he could ignore it.

Existing is what made it worse.

The sun practically burned his eyes when he stepped out, the heat of the day encompassing his whole body quicker than he would have liked. For some unknown fucking reason, summer here felt worse than on his Earth. Then again the alcohol didn't help. He stood in the shade of the building next to the bar, searching the parking lot for any sign of Wade.

Going into the store wasn't an option and as much as he wanted to leave the annoyance behind, he didn't want to feel like a piece of shit. That is...even more than he already did.

"Fuck," he hissed, leaning against the brick wall. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

One option would be taking a walk to work off the energy that ran through his veins. At least then he'd be able to sleep at night. And the temptation almost worked. If it weren't for the shop doors that opened to his left, effectively distracting him from the chance of leaving. He could have ignored the person, probably should have given everything he'd been through.

But then his heart dropped to his stomach as you walked out. He'd never seen you in such a soft sundress before, the off white fabric draped off your curves in a way that floored him. As if you were an angel floating by without a care in the world. You were busy shoving a small piece of paper in your purse, your face furrowed in frustration, and Logan smiled. Because he'd traced each line of that face before, he'd kissed those cheeks, your eyelids as you slept.

He'd loved you in ways that would scare a normal human.

And there you were.

"Honey?" he called, unconsciously following you quicker than he intended to. "Honey."

You glanced to the side, completely unaware of the giant lumbering man trailing after you with a soft look on his face and hope in his hands.

That alone tore him in two more than the memories from before.

"Baby, it's me."

The breeze finally went through the air, pushing the skirt of your dress a bit higher on your thighs. Except that's not what he latched onto. Your scent was different. Unlike any he'd encountered before. Honey still sweetly caressed his senses, but flowers overlayed that—peonies if he guessed. Delicious enough to have his mouth watering; his body already aching for you to be closer. To look at him in the way you used to.

He wanted to call out to you—gain your attention properly—but your name wouldn't leave his tongue. Because you were there and you finally caught sight of him and you were looking at him as if nothing bad ever happened between the two of you.

You saw him as a man.

Not a disappointment.

He willed himself to stop and breathe. Take in his surroundings; realize that you weren't who he once knew. You weren't even the same fucking person.

But before he could think straight, he'd already followed you halfway to your car. His eyes were dazed, heart nearly throttling him alive as he stood there dumbly. Waiting for you to finally speak.

"Oh..." Your heart rate spiked quicker than he expected. He couldn't find it in himself to feel bad though. "Hello?"

"Honey," he sighed, the weight on his shoulders lifting ever so slightly.

He caught the way your fingers tightened around your keys, the defense mechanism an instinct by now. And Logan realized what he looked like. A strange man standing too close for your liking. So he took a step back and gave you some space. In the hopes that you wouldn't see him as a threat. That maybe...you'd listen to what he had to say.

"Can I help you?" you asked, eyes darting around the parking lot in case you needed help.

What he wouldn't give for the opportunity to reassure you. To explain that he wasn't here to hurt you. That he'd kill himself before even laying a hand on you. Yet the correct words were lost and all he seemed to get out was an incoherent babble that had him wanting to dig his own claws into his chest.

"You smell different."

You straightened your spine, eyes narrowed into a glare he felt burn across his skin. "Look, I don't know who you are. But fuck off."

Something akin to pride flared in his chest at your tone, your words. But he couldn't show it externally. How would he explain that your fight—your fire—is what drew him to you in the first place? How could he tell you about a version of yourself you'd never know? A person he thought would be with him until his last breath exhaled into the world.

"I'm not here to hurt you." He raised his hands in an attempt to prove his point, but like your variant counterpart you were willing to bite first and ask questions later.

"Yeah. Sure asshole." The shopping bag in your other hand was lifted up, until you had a tighter grip on it in case something happened. You didn't know him. You probably never would.

But Logan had to try. He owed it to you to give it all he had this time around.

Otherwise...what was the point of living?

"My name's–" He made the wrong move stepping forward and knew it the second his boot hit the gravel. With a wince, he watched you stumble back against your car, your arm coming up to protect yourself. "No. Look I'm not gonna do anything–"

"Get the fuck away from me," you spit.

He moved back as if approaching a wounded animal—his body finally on edge in a new way. The fact that you didn't know him wasn't what broke off another chunk of his heart. He could handle that. He'd been through that.

You were afraid of him.

That realization dug in too deep for his body to heal.

That...he couldn't live with.

"WOAH hey!" He'd never appreciated Wade's irritating ass more than in this moment. He jumped between the two of you, the cart of groceries forgotten as he blocked Logan from your sight. "Step away from the nice lady wolf boy." Wade regarded you with a smile. "Hi! Sorry. This is my uncle and well as you can probably tell he's lost eight of his lives. So we're going on little old nine. And well the mind just goes to shit first."

Seconds passed by like minutes and Logan watched you visibly deflate. "Wade," you greeted him, visibly calmer than before. Logan felt his stomach twist violently at the thought. "It's good to see you. How's the job?"

"Oh yup you know. Left that. But I'm really pushing through. I've got an Etsy store where I sell miniature paintings of Michael Angelo's David's penis. So there's that."

Your laughter sent a hole through his chest and Logan bit back the growl that rose up the back of his throat. What the fuck was Wade doing making friends with you? Why were you laughing at his humor?

He couldn't count how many days he'd spent longing to hear your laugh again, the shine in your eyes that always came around when joy flooded your bloodstream. He could smell the honey off your skin, the warmth of what no doubt lay beneath your thin dress. And he wanted to rip Wade to pieces knowing that he was the one making it happen. That you were comfortable with a man who's mouth ran at a mile a minute.

"Did your sister have the baby yet?"

You brightened and Logan felt his heart stutter. "She did! A boy."

"Named Wade I hope."

Another peal of laughter had Logan's claws itching to descend as you ignored he was there. "Theo actually. A cutie."

"Aww." Wade moved closer, head bent to see the small polaroid you pulled out of your wallet. "Wow, he looks like you'd find him in a Gerber's advertisement."

Your eyes drifted up, past Wade's shoulder, until you finally caught Logan's gaze. And he felt like he could breathe. Every ounce of fear was wiped from your face; interest now creeping in as you dragged your eyes down his form. Past the slight peek of chest hair and down to how his jeans hugged his hips. Logan stood taller for your benefit, as if he needed to make a good impression.

He wanted to linger in your mind for days. Until the curiosity ate you alive.

"We're gonna go," Wade announced, after grabbing your bag and placing it in your trunk for you. "Someone has to feed the blind woman in my apartment. She tends to root through everything looking for food." He gripped Logan's arm, shoving him back a good few feet. Even as your eyes still remained glued to his face. "Glad to see the Hyundai is still working. You know you could take the fattest fucking nap in the back of that puppy. Makes you feel like an Egyptian mummy."

"Bye," you said, a dazed look in your eyes as Logan smiled in your direction. At ease with the knowledge that even in a different universe, he could still fluster you with a look.

Dragging himself away from you was hell, but Wade's grip remained unbreakable as they clambered to the car. The groceries stacked in the small backseat.

He could glimpse you driving off and suddenly the nightmare from earlier was the last thing on his mind.

Wade's back hit the wall with a crack before the door could shut properly. The groceries in their hands toppled to the floor. He barely had time to duck before Logan's claws were aiming for his head—a snarl ripping from his throat.

"What the fuck?" Wade shouted, grabbing the paper bag and gently setting it on the table. "Next time just say you need to stay home and find some joy in an empty room and your hand."

"How do you know her?"

Wade smiled, assessing the furious state of chaos Logan was now left in. The tatters of his stability falling to the floor around him. For as much as he held himself together, it certainly remained easy enough to tear him a part.

"Got an eye on someone, do we honey badger?"

Logan grimaced, running a hand down his face. "Would you just fucking tell me?"

"Let me bask in this Logan. I'm about to watch a romcom come to life and need some popcorn." He rummaged through the bag, yanking out some chips. "Salty and sweet. That'll do."

"Wade," he bit out.

"Stick with us girls, we're about to get to the good stuff."

"WADE!"

He tossed the bag to the table, eyeing the way Logan never quite settled. "I'm gonna take a guess and say we know her more than just friendly hellos."

Logan couldn't answer because his grief did it for him. He did what he could to catch his breath, to stop seeing his version of you. The disappointment on your face, the pain in your voice. You'd been so angry with him. To watch the person he loved be reduced to a screaming crying mess wasn't something he wanted to relive, but Wade's question seemed to send an avalanche toppling to the ground.

"She's..." He sucked in a breath. "On my world. I...knew her."

"Knew her? Or knew her."

He reached for the bottle of whiskey Wade threw in with the rest of the groceries and popped it open before he spoke again. "It didn't end well between us. None of it did."

Wade fell silent and Logan found himself loathing the quiet more than the sound of his voice. If he was joking Logan could ignore it. He could pretend nothing happened. That you weren't here, you couldn't be hurt by him again.

You were safe from his destructive tendencies as long as you were in another universe.

"She lives across the street." Logan's head rose and whipped to see the window that faced the building across from them. "The old uncultured shit whistles that keep complaining about WHAM! the greatest thing to happen to music. They're her neighbors. Live right next door."

"Neighbors."

Wade nodded, offering him a chip. "She found their note and angel that she is, she very sweetly threatened to get them evicted. I offered to let her borrow my katanas but was rejected like younger me on prom night. You've really got yourself a catch there buddy."

Logan didn't need Wade to tell him how fucking lucky he was. He knew that the second you walked out of that store. You were everything good in his life at one point, everything he couldn't save. There wasn't much keeping him going on his old Earth, but having you made all the suffering he went through—all the pain he endured—worth it.

If you were waiting for him at the end, he'd do it all over again.

"So you want to take a dip in that honey huh? Taste that rainbow?"

His claws would have sunk into Wade's throat if a knock hadn't sounded at the door. With a huff, he stepped into the kitchen, the bottle clutched tightly in his hand. Whoever decided to give Wade some luck was of no concern to him.

Or so he believed.

"I didn't mean to accidentally take your groceries," you laughed, handing over a overpacked paper bag.

Stuffing the bottle under the sink, he met you halfway to the living room, his eyes drinking in the sight of you still in that dress. Still delicate enough for him to rip if he tugged it right. Heat curled along the base of his spine when your eyes met his, wide and glimmering with your laughter. He felt himself crumple at the sight of your lips parting, the surprise at his size still enough to make you speechless.

"Good to see you again," he greeted you, voice low and soft.

You didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, but something about the way his gaze devoured you within seconds left you breathless. The swooping sensation in your stomach became too much to handle. Desire and attraction weren't unknown concepts to you. But this felt like more. You could sense him right down to your bones and it scared the shit out of you.

"Oh right!" Wade scooched past you to swing an arm around Logan's shoulders. He did what he could to not stab him in the stomach. "This is Logan. My hunky new roommate."

Logan groaned. "Alright–"

"No, no it's good. You remember when I was declared basically the savior of the universe?"

Your face screwed up in confusion. Logan had never wanted to kiss someone more.

"Marvel...Jesus right?"

"I prefer MJ. Since I've got a Peter." Wade's head whipped to the side. "Suck it Tom Holland." His grip on Logan tightened. "This walking People's Sexiest Magazine helped. We're talking big claws, abs you just want to lick whipped cream off of–"

Logan's elbow slammed into Wade's stomach—crimson slowly tinting the tips of his ears. "That's enough."

"AND the Wolverine."

Surprised etched itself onto your face even further. Until you finally regarded Logan with a look he'd seen once before. Awe. When you first met one another in the halls of the mansion, you stared at him that exact way. As if you couldn't quite believe that iconic figure the X-Men made him out to be actually existed.

He couldn't tell if he liked it. Or if he'd rather you view him as a stranger.

"Logan," he said, offering his hand to you politely. Your skin remained as soft as he remembered.

Warmth bloomed in your body at the feeling of his calloused palm overwhelming yours, the scars across his knuckles old and ancient. Yet you found yourself wanting to trace them over and over, until the sight of them seared in your mind. You fought the urge to press your lips to them, etch your own mark into his skin. Something told you he wouldn’t mind.

Logan could see the intrigue on your face—the distracted gaze he wanted to keep in place. You were still curious. Still willing to learn about him. To pick him a part with soft words and even softer touches.

"Logan," you murmured under your breath, your eyes catching his. He felt his stomach leap at the sound of your voice whispering his name. Memories flooding his mind quicker than he expected. Of mornings spent in bed, your skin pressed against his. Of nights alone in his cabin—your stories lulling him to sleep.

Everything he willed himself to forget, yet could never truly let go of.

"I've got to head back." Disappointment filled your heart at the thought of not getting a chance to talk to him more. He had yet to let go of your hand and you found you liked his touch on your skin. "I'll see you soon Wade."

"Logan will be more than happy to walk you back," Wade replied, waving drastically behind your back. "Can't have you getting hurt now can we? Right peanut?"

You smiled. "I'm just across the street."

"I don't mind," Logan cut in, glaring at Wade to shut the fuck up.

"Okay," your voice was soft. Happy.

Logan would have done anything to keep it that way.

The walk back wasn't long enough for him to explain his actions from earlier, but you seemed to be just as smart as your variant self. Shutting the building's door, you turned to him—your dress fluttering in the breeze. Logan choked on his spit at the slight peek of your ass before you pushed the skirt back down around you.

"Did you know me?" You lead him to the corner, waiting for the traffic to die down. "On your Earth."

He paused, his eyebrows pulling together, and for a moment you wondered if you asked the wrong question. Wade told you bits and pieces of what happened since you last saw him, but Logan's background wasn't a discussion you tried to seek out. All you knew was that Wade acquired a new roommate. Not even a name.

Certainly not that he was Wolverine.

"Yes," Logan muttered, glancing at the change in lights.

You started to walk. "In what way?"

His hands curled into fists—echoes of his past rising to the surface. "We were...friends. You're a professor."

"A professor?" you exclaimed, a smile tugging on your lips. "Am I a mutant?"

He nodded. "You're able to bend time. Or control it." He snorted, following your lead towards your building. "I could never understand it. But Charles did."

The walk up to your apartment was silent, your thoughts filled with the new information he'd given you. And no matter how hard you tried to picture it, you couldn't see yourself as a mutant. A powerful being that held the ability to manipulate time who just so happened to be a professor. Somehow even thinking about it made you wonder why Logan was bothering to entertain this version of you. When the better one existed on his Earth.

"You said were."

Stopping at your door, he nearly knocked into you. "Hm?"

"Were friends. What happened?"

The answer he couldn't give you. The words he wouldn't even admit out loud to himself.

He felt his heart twist as if a knife slowly carved through his spleen. "We uh..." He coughed. "You..."

"I don't have to know." Grasping gently onto his arm, you offered a warm smile he felt down to his toes. A look he hadn't seen in quite some time. Logan could picture the last day you were happy in his head. Laughing with Charles in his office as you shared dinner, working on theories of your powers late into the night.

A week before they came.

"It's good to see you like this," he breathed, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek before stopping midair. "Happy."

Your eyebrows knit together. "I wasn't happy?"

"No." What he wouldn't give to take that information back, but it was out in the open, and as always—he remained too late.

"Why?" you asked, your hand sliding down to his much to his delight.

"I made you a promise." He sucked in a breath, his body begging him to start running. You'd be better off if you never knew. If you never remembered him in the first place. "I couldn't keep it."

I'll always keep you safe.

Words he refused to say again.

How could he promise this version of you that? How could he look you in the eyes and lie again? Breaking his Earth's you would haunt him for the rest of his life. He couldn't fathom doing it all over. It would kill him.

Except you weren't the person in his mind. You weren't the mutant who hated him with every fiber of your being. You were you. A continuous surprise that left his heart stuttering in his chest each time you looked his way. An enigma he found himself wanting to unravel.

"Maybe this time around you can," you said softly, letting him go with a smile as you entered your apartment, effectively opening the wound in his heart so wide there was no saving him.

Although he now knew something he didn’t know before.

He didn’t want to be saved.

[kenjakusbraincum]

can you pls write something about reader being sick and like not the cough and cold kind of sick- like really really sick, and sukuna realising how much he doesn't want to lose her to this sickness and how if she dies, he'll be alone again..🥺

You have NO idea how much I love this idea!!! I did go a bit overboard with it cause I love suffering though 👍 Still, this was SO much fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Vows

Sukuna x Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Tags/warnings: gn! reader, true form! sukuna, master/pet dynamic, fluff but most importantly ANGST, mentions of weight loss, mentions of violence, implied nsfw, reader dies in the end :( (sorry)

It's not the first time Sukuna has been made aware of your mortality. He recalls many instances when he's been reminded that you are human. Finite. The first time he wrapped his hand around your throat and squeezed with calculation while you were laying under him, and you looked up at him in fear for your life. Your little hand couldn't even wrap around his wrist, much less provide resistance. Or when he'd pull your hair a little too roughly, and hear a crack in your delicate spine. When you'd get sick, and humbly refuse his healing. So little as a tummy ache had you writhing on your bed.

You are so weak, so small, clinging to life like there was anything for you in it, beyond Sukuna. By all means he hates all of these things. So what witchery is this, and why does he care about you so much? Why does he keep you for years, and why does your company bring him comfort he hasn't ever known in his lifetime?

Still, as much as he cares, he doesn't notice when it starts. He's trained you to tolerate pain, after all. It's no wonder you hesitate to tell him. Little things like tummyaches and colds occur to you all the time anyways, and you never complain. Sure, you've grown closer to Sukuna, but he was still your master, and the rules he instilled in you from the start were always fresh in your mind, not to be crossed. Bothering him with everything that feels off always seemed inappropriate.

And Sukuna is just like that. If you're not screaming or crying, he won't know you're in pain. But he notices that you're acting off. And how he reacts really doesn't help your case, or encourage you to speak up about your condition. ''I don't have all day. What is wrong with you?'', he sneers when he catches you pacing too far behind him.

So you just sleep longer and preserve energy for when you are with him. You don't skip around as much anymore, or spend time doing your hobbies. Food doesn't taste so great anymore. You have a cough that gives you sleepless nights because it just won't calm down. And the time you owe Sukuna starts to feel like an obligation. You start to dread it. Dread slipping up, dread annoying him or failing to satisfy him. Dread being disposable.

When things start getting worse, it's hard to hide it even from him. He was taking you from behind one night, and you were grateful he couldn't see the look on your face. You thought you could do it. Sukuna was always demanding, but he would never force you to do anything. If only you told him before you felt yourself struggling for air, and your chest closing in on itself in tightness. You reached one hand back, frantically grabbing his wrist.

''Feathers, feathers!'', words came out as gasps, and you slumped forward when he let you go. You were panicked and crying by then, this kind of discomfort being foreign even to you, even after weeks of pain behind you. He hovered next to you with a puzzled look on his face. He wasn't even being that rough.

''What's wrong? Tell me.'', he said, and reached his hand to feel the warmth of your tears streaming down your face. He swiped your cheek gently. He didn't seem mad at all. Why didn't you say anything from the start?

''I just feel so sick.'', you muster up in between sobs, and shut your eyes. You were too embarrassed to even look at him.

''I see.''. His hand leaves your face, and he traces it from your neck down your spine. The pain subsided slowly, allowing you to relax and find comfort in his arms.

But the effects of his healing were short lived. Just a week later the feeling of fatigue creeps back into your life. Manageable, but lingering. And the cough persists. And it gets on Sukuna's nerves too. He's been quite patient with you, but his patience was reaching it's limit.

You're sitting by his throne as you often do, and as hard as you try to hold the cough in, you just can't help it. His hand finds the back of your neck and squeezes, turning you to him. And he looks at you with all four, terrifying eyes. ''Can you shut up?''

''I'm sorry, I'm trying -'', you stutter, but just end up coughing more. He doesn't wait for you to stop.

''Get out of here.'', and pushes you away. You stumble down the pile of bones and fall, landing on your hands and knees. You don't remember him being this cruel to you in a long time. You look back at him with teary eyes, and he looks back like the merciless monster he is. The villagers awaiting him moved to make space for your fall, taking note of the tense situation.

That day, Sukuna sends word that he doesn't want to see you until you get better. You're forbidden from going outside again, in fear that that is making your 'cold' worse. It's a lonely week in your room, until Sukuna starts to crave you again. It didn't take him a while, counting the couple days he spent convincing himself he doesn't miss you. He does. So when he sends word for you again, and the servants come back to him saying you're still not feeling well... he's worried. So worried he comes to see it for himself.

Sukuna rarely comes to your room. It's the only space you have for yourself, and he doesn't want to take that away from you. Your room is modest. You have a bed, a carpet, and a couple shelves to house the books he's gifted you. There's a desk where you can eat and read, and a doorway to the garden. There's an empty glass of water and a napkin next to your bed. You're still sleeping, but the door shutting behind him wakes you up, so he doesn't get to enjoy observing you in your natural habitat for long.

It's not the first time doors opening and closing woke you up. But you know this time is different. The servants are always quickly shuffling around the room, cleaning up and moving around. Uraume clanks with plates. There is no noise now, other than your strained breathing and a cough brewing in the back of your throat. Besides, the aura that Sukuna brings with him everywhere he goes is recognizable. Especially to you. Heavy.

You turn around, and meet the gaze of his four eyes. ''Master...'', you struggle to sit up, and even a little action like that has spots forming in your vision. Then a coughing fit hits you. You pick up the napkin and put it to your mouth.

Sukuna sees your whole body strain with the effort of coughing. And when you call him master, even your voice sounds different. He knows your morning voice. He missed hearing it, but this... this is not it. You sit with your head hung low, staring at the napkin between your hands. There's a fresh splatter of blood on it. But Sukuna scares you more than the progression of your illness.

''Are you mad at me?'', you ask timidly, meeting his gaze.

''I'm concerned.", he says and sits next to you. You curl up to make space for him. "Two weeks is a long time for a frail human like you to be sick.", he looks at you, scanning your form up and down.

"I rested and drank every tea Uraume told me to!", your defense mechanism kicks in, and you start babbling.

Sukuna dismisses you with a hand and a pained facial expression. "I know.", he says. His brows are furrowed now, and he's looking at the ground, lost in thought.

You feel guilty for annoying him again. You feel guilty for the whole thing, getting sick, draining the energy it takes him to heal you, robbing him of the time with you that he deserves. Owns. He is very generous with the way he treats you, having all that in mind.

You tug on his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Master... You deserve better.", and you're sobbing again. Sukuna gives you a pathetic look, but smiles as he pulls you into his embrace.

"Silly pet. I can survive a couple weeks without your assistance.", he says, rubbing your shoulder.

You run your fingers against the back of his hand mindlessly, not knowing how to respond. Caressing his knuckles, bones, veins... feeling his nails and their sharp tips against your sensitive skin. When you bring his palm up to your lips, your kiss stains it red with blood.

-

You still sleep with Sukuna sometimes. Less frequently, only on days when you feel well enough, and those are rare. You've lost weight by now, sickness making itself visible on your body. You're sitting on his lap and clinging to your robes, scared that he won't like you as much, that you won't live up to his standards. But Sukuna's demeanor about your illness has changed, as he seemed to sense something unusual about it. He flips you over so gently, like you're made of glass, and peppers kisses from your neck downwards, slowly undressing you as much as you allow him. When he takes you, he's so careful. Constantly checking you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. You feel so loved and relaxed, and pleasure comes so easy when you're in this state. It's not the first time Sukuna is this caring with you in bed, but this time is different. This time you can't help but feel like he's saying goodbye.

He holds you afterwards, tracing his fingers over the ridges of your spine and your shoulders. You were always little in his grasp, but now that he feels your protruding bones under his fingertips, you seem all the more vulnerable.

"Will you kill me?", you ask, breaking the silence.

Sukuna frowns. "Nonsense. Why would I do that?"

There's a gulp in your throat. "It won't be long before I can't even do this. I won't be of any use to you then...", you say.

"Stop.", he says sternly. "There's a lot more to you than what you provide me with in bed."

You smile to yourself, but there's still a hole in your chest. Your statement is still true, and you aren't comforted. But this is Sukuna, and you know that he's offered you quite a lot even with that little bit of reassurance. To your surprise, he speaks again.

"Don't upset yourself. It's been a long time since killing you crossed my mind.", he says. "Save the energy for something else."

You nod and thank him. Just moments later, you're asleep. Quicker than ever before, he notes. You usually love it when he lets you cuddle and talk to him. You would force your eyes open when you were sleepy, just to enjoy it longer.

He feels guilty. He's your master, he's responsible for your well being. Yet nothing he does seems to help you long term. Healing you is temporary and he knows that without accessing the source, it will never work. If he could, he would find what was making you sick and rip it out of you with his bare hands, crush it with the force of his palm. He would have to look deeper, open you, and for once, he thinks he can't open a human being. He thinks of you trashing, screaming, and worst of all, looking into his eyes. Just the thought of you like that makes his chest feel like a gaping cavity. Worst of all, he's sure you would let him. He's sure you would forgive him for spilling your blood, and find comfort in his arms again. If you survived, that is. What has he done to you? And to himself?

Now, your head rests on his chest, and you're snoring lightly. For once, a repetitive noise like that doesn't annoy him. For once, he wishes he could listen to it every night. One day, that noise will be the only thing audibly confirming you're still alive.

-

Months pass and you're only getting worse. You barely leave your room now, too weak to even do so. You eat little, and it's showing in your sunken cheeks and eyes. You feel yourself withering away, loosing color, drying like a dying flower. Sukuna is in grief. He struggles to look at you, and visiting you falls heavy on him every time. He always finds himself thinking afterwards. Regretting that he let himself get this attached, wishing that he could simply forget you. But it doesn't work that way.

He goes to see you, after avoiding you for a week. He's Sukuna, he doesn't have any shame. You're sleeping, like you usually are when he comes to visit you. Your snoring is laboured, and it sounds painful. This time, the doors and the silence don't wake you up. He watches you, curled up under a stack of blankets, rising and falling with your struggles to breathe. How foolish he was, to think forgetting you would be as easy as avoiding you for days. How evil he was, trying to forget you while you are still alive under his wing, still his responsibility. Still his.

He sits next to you and leans over you, fingertips ghosting over your face. The snoring stops and you flutter your eyes open, turning in bed and feeling his body next to yours. You smirk at him, eyes adjusting to the light, and smile when you recognize him. ''Master.'', your arms wrap around his neck as you welcome him, your voice dry, but lively as you beckon him closer. ''I missed you.''.

He comes down to plant a kiss to your forehead. ''I missed you too, darling.''. Oh, the things that escape his mouth when he's alone with you. He cups your face, enjoying how much healthier you look with a smile on your face. ''Feeling any better?'', he rubs your cheek, lingering closely above your face.

You nod, but both of you know you only feel better because you saw him. Still, the little surge of happiness that brings you gives you more energy than you've had the whole week. You wiggle to the edge of the bed, making space and inviting him to join you. Sukuna lies down, hooking one arm underneath your neck and pulling you flush against him.

You wrap your arm around him and lean your head against his shoulder. He's still as big as you remember him, unfaltering in the face of your illness. It's comforting. ''You didn't visit in a while. Were you busy?'', you ask, stroking his back. ''How were your days?''

''Monotone.'', he says. ''The villagers bring remedies for you every day, and wish for you to get well.'' It's no wonder. So many times, Sukuna found himself hesitating to kill just because you were sitting on his knee, dressed in something too pretty to be splattered with blood. In the local villages, word spread that you have ''domesticated'' Sukuna. As if such a thing was possible. Or was it?

''Oh?'', you smile. ''I didn't think they would notice my absence.''. You always were supposed to be Sukuna's accessory and nothing more. Remedies and good wishes make it sound like you're more important than just a pet. So it really is that obvious...

''They did.'', he says, and lowers his head, brushing his nose against your face. ''Some took that as an opportunity to gift me new pets.''

You blink at him, a bit taken aback by his honesty. You keep smiling anyways. ''Did you take any?'', you ask, and he sees nothing but genuine curiosity in your eyes. The truth is, you've had a lot of time to think about your place in Sukuna's mansion. You knew, especially in sickness, that you were never entitled to exclusivity with him. You knew that at some point you would have to be replaced, just by the virtue of being a mortal. A human, who would age and become ugly, wrinkled and useless. You were just unlucky enough to meet this fate sooner than you should've.

Sukuna sighs, the weight of the conversation shifting to him. ''Not to bed, no.'', he says.

You're quiet while you think of what to say. You still have a habit of picking words when you're with Sukuna, but the times when he would punish you for improper formulation are far behind you. "Why not?", you settle. You hope the implication is there, that you wouldn't be so mad even if he did.

Why not? Because he thinks it might break him. Because the image of someone else in your place, under him, feels unnatural and wrong. He thinks the guilt might eat him alive. For once in centuries, someone else's needs come before Sukuna's. He is gone, so far gone. You've raised his standards, and he's not sure anyone he takes now will be able to live up to them. Besides, training a new pet to fit your mold would take years, and even then... He couldn't train someone to love him. Not like you do.

''I wouldn't want you to hold back because of me.'', you say, and he realizes he's been quiet for too long. Years ago, if you dared to imply that Sukuna would do such a thing as hold back because of you, that he cared, you would've been minced meat ready for dinner. Now, he looks down at you tenderly when you say it. Well, a tender look from Sukuna is a docile one. You've gotten used to the way that Sukuna communicates love. Subtly, innocuously.

''Worry about getting well, pet.'', he shuts down the conversation, and moves away from you, sitting back on the bed. ''Any wishes? Food? Activities?'', he asks, and feels your forehead with the back of his hand.

Food? No, but... ''I'd like you to stay, please.'', you say, and take his hand with the two of yours, feeling it up with your thumbs.

Sukuna resists the urge to roll his eyes, knowing the thought of annoying him would upset you greatly. ''That's a given. Anything else?''

You pretend to think, then just babble your favorite food. Sukuna takes your order to Uraume. But when he comes back, you're already asleep again. He waits by your side, but you don't wake, so eventually he leaves. By the evening, the plate of your favorite food remains untouched.

-

You can't leave the bed on your own anymore. Sukuna carries you outside when you're feeling good enough. You barely have the strength to latch onto him securely. Still, it's hard to slip out of the grasp of his four arms. He says you've gotten pale. You lay in his lap and bask in the sun, while he tells you about his day or reads a book out loud for you to enjoy. You wish you could talk to him more, but your voice leaves you as days of endless coughing wreck your throat. No herbs and teas ease your condition anymore. You wait for your final day.

And Sukuna doesn't know when he's given up on the idea that you might get better. But he starts spending whole days with you, leaving your side only to sleep in his bed. He tends to almost all your needs personally. You think that if you asked him to get on his knees for you, he would. He is not familiar with this ache that brews in his chest when he looks to his side and doesn't see you there. It feels violating. To be as powerful as he is, and yet completely helpless in the face of the sickness that drains you in front of his very eyes.

He plays with your thinning hair one morning, and you look at him from his lap, as adoringly as always. ''Isn't it funny?.'', you say, and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you. ''I always imagined dying by your hand.'', you kiss his hand again, planting your dry, blue lips against his knuckles. ''Who would have thought?''.

You, you little human. You made him feel like a fool, like a coward. You made him feel powerless. Who could ever get away unscathed with making Sukuna feel like this? The thought of killing you now, even out of mercy, fills him with horror. He thinks he couldn't live carrying the burden of your death on his back. It's already hard for him as is.

When he's not with you, he withers away in his room, waiting. And when the servants finally come, and tell him you're at your last strengths, he feels as tense as he feels relieved. The servants shake in fear of his reaction, and he simply dismisses them. In a thousand years of his existence, he doesn't remember having to prepare to enter a room. His hand trembles as he brings it up to push the door open. He dreads what awaits him inside.

He expected blood, hysteria, chaos, yet there's none of it when he walks in. Just the pained noises of your breathing. A servant, your favorite, sits by your side and wipes sweat off your forehead. She talks to you in a comforting tone and pats your head gently. When he walks in the room, she lowers her head and moves to leave. It's only a second, but he sees the sad look on your face. ''Stay.'', he orders, and the servant bows and thanks him.

You move your attention to him, raising your hand to greet him weakly. He picks it up and bends down to kiss it. There's tears in your eyes as he settles into a seat next to you, and you open your mouth in an attempt to say something.

''Easy now.'', he shushes you, and helps you into his lap. You lean back, looking at him through a blur. His features appear even more doubled through the tears, and you still find his beauty mesmerizing. Your master. Your own little god and protector. Although he regrets it, you've never claimed the title of his spouse. Yet, he still stuck by your side, until parted by death. In sickness and in health.

He wipes your tears, and the mouth he conjures onto his hand kisses your forehead. One set of his hands caresses your face, the other massages the tension out of your bony shoulders. Sukuna knows how important it is for you to pass in peace. He doesn't want to curse you, or have despair turn you into a curse. "Relax now.", his voice is so soothing, as if lulling you to sleep. "It won't be long". You weep. What did an ordinary human like you do to deserve this honor? To be comforted on their death bed by a god. To be guided to death by him.

"Master.", you sob. "I'm so scared..."

Delicate touch against your skin. Sharp nails grazing your cheek ever so slightly, just barely enough to make their presence known. "Have no fear.", Sukuna looms over you like a snowdrop. "Where you go now, pain won't follow.". You speak to him a little longer. Tell him all the things you always wanted to tell him, but were scared of the consequences. Dangerous words, ones that were rarely associated with Sukuna. Love. And Sukuna is attentive, so human. Your blinking slows and you find comfort in his voice, as he returns every loving word back to you. Your pained breathing follows, and your eyelids are so heavy. But the sight of him is so hypnotizing, you wish you never had to look away. "You are so brave, my little dove. Go now, be free.". You were too good for this wretched palace anyways. The sight of him is etched in your memory as you close your eyes. "It was a pleasure to have you by my side.", you listen, feeling control over your body slip through your fingers. When you can't move, or feel his touch, you still hear his calm voice. "When you're ready, come back to me. I'll be waiting for your return.". Then everything is quiet, for you and for him. The servants cries are muffled by the sheets, where she has her head pressed by your side.

The hallways, silent except for the busy tapping of feet. Outside, the wind blows petals off of blooming flowers, leaving them bare and stranded. Autumn is here to carry you away.

Servants hold their breath when Sukuna walks by. One wrong look at him and the walls would be painted red. Just like before. Before you. And it's not long before Sukuna looks like a monster again - red eyes and a permanent frown etched on his face. Villagers bring bouquets, and lay them to the right of his throne, where you used to sit. He stares them all down, and only for a moment thinks that maybe, humans are not the scum he thought they were. But then he remembers, they only mourn you because you held him back from his destructive tendencies. Scum.

And he kills again. The first is a villager from afar, where news of your passing hasn't reached. Ripped to shreds for mentioning you. The women who screamed, their blood soaks the carpets and seeps through the wooden floor, dripping down to the cellars. He feels like himself again, unhinged, unbeatable.

Until the day is over, and he goes back to his empty room. His cold, empty bed, and the old habit of reaching for you in his sleep, only to grab nothing instead. And the crocheted figures of the two of you on his nightstand, watching him as he struggles to sleep alone. He can't bear it. So he leaves, and doesn't come back for days, weeks, months.

Smoke clouds the skies on the horizon once again, after years and years of peace and clarity. As far as the eye stretches, the world will know of Sukuna's wrath. But as thrilling as it feels to conquer again, when the village is burned and ash covers the grass on the ground, the thought of you still lingers. Your devastated eyes the first time he's killed before you. The first time he's felt guilty about his monstrous nature. When he comes back, no one's warm embrace awaits him. No one's there to brighten up his day. No amount of blood shed and villages burned replace the emptiness you left behind in his heart.

The grief settles, and sits heavy in Sukuna's chest, as he assumes position in his lonely throne again, and gazes at the row of people waiting to beg, talk, offer... bore him. Another eternity of boredom. An eternity of picking through thousands of humans, in vain hopes of finding you again. In vain hopes of recognizing you, even if it's lifetimes from now, when the last memory of your face has already faded from his mind. When generations change, and the thought of a monster like Sukuna being capable of tenderness vanishes. When the fire in his chest, ignited by love, is already a memory so distant, that recalling it feels surreal.

Maybe he will forget you by then. Maybe times will harden him again, and the idea of a pet becoming his lover will make him laugh. But for now, the thought of finding you in a crowd, taking you in his arms and never letting go, is his comfort and safe place. For now, he will wait for you. As long as it takes, like a stone, unyielding against the passing of time.

[reiderwriter]

🩺 Protect and Serve 🩺

Spencer Reid x stripper! Female Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge

Summary: Spencer makes a fool of himself in front of a very pretty nurse. Who turns out to not be a nurse at all, but a stripper.

Warnings: Erotic dance, pole dancing, uniforms, doctor play (?), semi-public sex, fingering, strip tease, nipple play, use of birth control - condoms, penetrative sex (PinV).

A/N: He's protecting, she's serving cunt. That's the pairing dynamic for this fic. I love writing Spencer as dumb because he does canonically lose it around hot people, and we, dear readers, are all hot people. I added the strip tease song below of you want to really get in the mood!

Masterlist || Bingo Board

“Okay, everyone, listen up,” Hotch called out to the masses, the three teams of officers, and his own team who were lined up and ready to receive orders. 

“We're going to do a simple canvass. Ask anyone you spot if they've seen our missing person and if they've seen any suspicious activity around the area in the last month. You have further lines of questioning laid out in your briefs. Also, we have no reason to believe the unsub will be hunting right now, so we're going to be canvassing individually.”

The crowd nodded in a wave of understanding, taking the information as it came before getting ready to receive their areas to work in. 

Spencer had devised the map himself, so he didn't have to wait in line, instead, walking to his corner of the block and getting himself ready for interactions. 

The clock struck 11, and he began, waiting for the usual shaky characters of the night to stroll out onto the streets. After a series of abductions from this area, and the general disrepair of all local CCTV cameras, the BAU knew exactly where their unsub was hunting from, but not the how, the why, or the who. 

In a last ditch effort, they'd turned to goodwill from the public. 

“Excuse me, sir, do you have a few minutes to answer some ques-” 

“Go fuck yourself.” 

“Okay, have a great evening.”

For the best part of the first hour, all of his interactions were the same repeat of hostility and general apathy. For long stretches of time, nobody walked by at all, and some were even growing frustrated by being accosted by multiple law enforcement officers within the hour.

He'd almost lost hope for a lead when the clock struck twelve, and you'd ran around the corner, nearly bowling him over as you raced to get to work. 

“Shit, oh, I'm sorry-” you said, realising you'd landed in a soft place, and not on the tarmac you knew from experience was a pain. He'd accidentally broken your fall and was all the more sorry for it. 

“No, it's okay… ah, um, it's not that bad.” 

You stood yourself up, removing yourself from the body of the stranger. The body of the man wearing an FBI jacket, who you now recognised as being with one of the dozen or so cops that had stopped you in your dash from your car (parked further downtown so it wouldn't get stolen) to your place of work. 

“Oh, god, I'm so sorry, officer. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry,” you mumbled again and again as you offered him a hand up. He took it hesitantly, grabbing his papers as he jumped on this opportunity to have a conversation with the first normal looking person he'd come across in an hour. 

If he'd been less eager, less tired, and in all honesty, less immediately attracted to you  he'd have realised that you had a destination in mind. One that, while being above board mostly, still made you weary of cops. 

“It's Agent actually - Doctor, but- anyway, um, could I possibly have a few minutes of your time? We're looking into a recent string of abductions in the area, and we’re asking if you've seen anything out of the ordinary.” 

You stood trapped by his surprisingly wide frame, his height dwarfing you by a few inches and the path being just narrow enough that you either had to decline politely, or just push past him to keep going. 

Unfortunately, you, too found him slightly too attractive than you were willing to admit, attractive enough that you'd gladly miss out on a half hours worth of tips to answer questions you'd honestly already answered before now. You'd always been weak for a man in uniform.

“I-I guess so. This will only be a few minutes, right?” 

“Of course, I wouldn't want to keep you from your work,” he said, gesturing down at your outfit. If it weren't for his totally genuine tone, you'd have thought he was being cruel. 

Usually, you didn't show up for work in your performance clothes, trying not to draw any more attention to yourself on the streets at midnight, but you'd been forced to that day. 

It was Uniform Day at the strip club, and your boss was entirely too cheap to buy the Uniforms himself, and absolutely cruel enough to penalise anyone who showed up without some kind of costume. Your nurse outfit had been in transit and out for delivery since 10 am. that morning, arriving exactly 10 hours later. 

It wasn't exactly a realistic cosplay. Sure there was a cute pen clip, and you were technically wearing scrubs, but they were also skin tight, and you knew for a fact that your nipples were hard and visible through the thin material, because taking a glance down, even you could see them. 

“Do you usually work the night shift?” He asked, bringing his clipboard up to take notes of your answers. 

He absolutely did not know you were a stripper. 

“Yeah. We don't really get many people in during the day. Too embarrassing, not the time for it.”

He nodded and tried to pretend like he was writing something of merit down, but secretly, he was very much enjoying the curves Of your body as the tight material hung off your body. 

The “scrubs” were baby blue  but he had no doubt that if the heavens opened right, then they'd become as see-through as cling film. 

He, too, wanted to cling to you. 

“Have you noticed anyone suspicious in the area recently, anything new or out of the ordinary?” 

“I mean, I couldn't possibly say. You know how this neighbourhood is, it's… well, it's not exactly the safest.” 

He nodded again and acted out sympathy, unaware how the feeling should feel now that he was faced with a woman so perfect that he'd entirely lost the ability to process emotions. 

“Right, right…” 

You stood for another moment or two, waiting for his follow up question, but his eyes raked over you in a way you were entirely familiar with. Unlike your usual clientele though, he snapped himself out of it, and had the wherewithal to look bashful. 

“Ask about victim, no leading questions,” he read quickly, before looking up at you and stammering through a new question. 

“S-so. Are there usually a lot of women walking around this area alone at night?” 

You did your nest to hold off a smile, to stay serious as he made the best of the script he was given.  

“Yeah, a few of the places have staff on hand to protect the girls, but my place is mostly women. We stick together as best as we can, but a client or two gets too attached now and again,” he nodded. 

“Patients can often become infatuated with their care staff,” he said, and he was so earnest that you wanted to take everything back and let him go. You wanted to see how long it would take him to realise there was only one body part you and your colleagues cared for. 

“I did think the industry was becoming more gender inclusive. Are there no men on staff?” 

“Oh, yeah. We have men, too. They're mostly request only, though, so we don't see them every day.” 

“Fascinating! You know, believe it or not, anthropologically, humans are predisposed to view women as more caring and are 9 times out of 10 more likely to ask for women to care for them, the gender of the patient doesn't impact the data.”

“Oh, I can believe it.” 

You smiled at him, and he looked taken aback for a minute or two. He finished by smiling back, and you definitely found this conversation worth as much as you'd lost in tips in the last half hour. You were half tempted to invite him back to the club with you for the night, to thank him for providing you with motivation for the night ahead.  

“Um, so, if you do see anything in the future, you can call the police and here is my number,” he said, scrawling something down quickly on a piece of paper and handing it off to you. 

“Oh. Oh, um, right, number. Uh,” you said, rooting around in your purse for your own business card to hand off to him. Partly because you wanted to resolve his misunderstanding, and partly just because you wanted to see what this overly respectful man would do with it. 

“Candy Cayne,” he read, obviously looking past the body glitter that covered the cars and everything else you owned. 

“Well, my real name is Y/N, but you can't be too safe these days.” 

“Right,” he said, smiling again. 

If these were the FBI agents put on the case of making your city safer, maybe you'd invest in a good taser and some more pepper spray. 

Just in case. 

“Spencer, over here!” One of the other agents you'd already spoken to called out from a block down the street, and hastily, Spencer Reid excused himself and let you finally continue on your way to work. 

You had to convince yourself you weren't disappointed. 

Morgan’s brows were furrowed as Spencer reached him. 

“Why were you interviewing the stripper again, I already got her information when she came by me.”

“Stripper? What stripper?” 

“You gotta be kidding me.” 

Morgan looked at the younger man incredulously before turning him around with a hand on his shoulder and pointing in your direction. 

“That stripper, Spencer.” 

He couldn't help but let his eyes trail down to your ass as you quickly walled off, hips swaying perfectly, showing off your complete assets in the tight outfit. 

“She's a nurse,” he defended, even as the blood drained from his face. 

“Uh-huh, and what's her name?” 

“...Candy Cayne,” he paused for a second before turning back to Morgan with a stricken expression on his face. 

“Oh my god, she's a stripper.” 

Five hours into your shift, and about $800 richer, you found yourself swinging around the pole freely again as your regulars slowly trickled out. 

You kept on dancing, though, knowing that the morning crowd was about to get in, the night-shifters that had to wait the entire night to get off on your dancing delights. 

Truckers you expected, security guards and night watchmen, too. Even the occasional older gentleman who found it hard to sleep in the mornings, so bored by retirement, they dropped in a few times a day. 

What you weren't expecting was Spencer.

You heard the door open, the bell ringing out loudly as all the girls stopped to greet their new target. 

“Hello, baby,” one called, the others chorusing around her. 

“Oh it's free for you, sweetheart.”

“Wanna take a ride?” 

“Aren't you just the cutest.”

Spencer spotted you - and your uniform - very quickly. 

As predicted, with a little bit of water, your uniform had gone see through with the tiniest drop of water, the sweat from your ongoing workout and the body oil the matrons lathered you up in before showing off everything. 

Still, Spencer tried to keep his gaze polite as he stood awkwardly at the edge of the stage and tried to engage you in conversation. 

“Hi,” he said, shouting awkwardly over the music. 

You shot him a confused look as you ground against the bar, still enjoying the tips of the last few stragglers. You gave him a confused look as you wrapped yourself around the pole, lifting yourself up and gripping the bar between your legs, pushing your chest backwards as you tipped your head upside down. 

“Can we talk?” He asked, and you, slowly but surely, let go of the bar, ending on the floor with your legs spread wide as the few men enraptured by you wolf whistled and swore. 

Finally, Spencer's bashful gaze dropped from your face as he stared at your scantily clad cunt. 

The baby blue underwear - though you could barely call it underwear as you were barely wearing it - was most definitely not leaving enough to the imagination. Combined with the very clear view of your boobs, Spencer wasn't surprised when his IQ abandoned him, rushing to his second head to let it make mistakes. 

“I'm sorry, officer,” you said, winking at him as you crawled forward, collecting tips as you went. “If my boss sees me talking to you instead of working, I can get fired. Tell me you've got at least a twenty on you.”

He scrambled for his wallet, pulling out all the cash he had and holding out a few dollars to you as you watched him. 

He looked away again, just as you leaned down to take it, and you pouted again. 

“Come on, sir,” you said, wiggling your ass a little to keep the other men entertained while you wore down at his morals. “You have to stick it down my shirt or something. Make it believable.” 

His eyes snapped back to yours, and then immediately to your chest as you sat back on your knees and began playing with yourself, grabbing your tits and bouncing up and down as you showed off your special ‘skills.’ 

Hesitantly, he reached out a hand, and, hating how slow he was going, you met him halfway, pushing your chest into his open hand. 

Though he was apprehensive, his body seemed able to take advantage quickly, and upon depositing the cash, he let his hand trace down the curve of your breast, squeezing it a little. 

“I came to apologise-” he started, trying to remind himself to stick to the script he created for himself. 

You didn't want to stick to any script. 

“Boss, I've got a private dance!” you shouted out to the bar staff, getting a thumbs up from the manager there and a call back of a room number. 

You grabbed the rest of the cash from his hands and lifted a hand so he could help you down the stage stairs, leading him quickly to a private room and closing the door. 

“T-There’s been a mistake, I just came to apologise for my unnecessary comments earlier, and-” he paused, hands lifting up in surrender as you straddled him. 

“What are you doing?” 

“You can talk, but you paid for a dance. I thought this would be better for you, more private.”

“Oh, yes, thank you, that's very considerate.” 

You nodded and began raking your nails down the front of his shirt, loosening his tie a little as you rose on your knees and gyrated your hips. 

His gaze locked eyes with your chest, and for a moment, you worried he wasn't breathing anymore, his entire body having stilled. Then you rocked your hips down into his lap, and you realised he wasn't still but stiff. 

He was rock fucking hard. 

You grinned, and tried to pick the conversation back up with a casual tone. 

“So how is canvassing going?” 

“Hmm?” He said, unlearning. “Oh, uh. Good. We have a few leads we're going to investigate in the morning.” 

“It is the morning, officer.” 

He nodded and gulped, but his gaze had rested gently against your bare skin again. 

You decided to treat him. 

Standing back up, you grabbed the room control and queued up your favorite track to dance with. The private sances were usually boring, a constant reminding of ‘don't touch the dancers’ dropping from your lips as you half-heartedly rocked back and forth. 

Unsurprisingly, though, you actually wanted this man to touch you. 

Spencer willed his brain to quiet, though as it had taken up residence in his pants, he doubted it could hear any of his requests. 

The opening lines of "I Put a Spell on You" by Annie Lennox played on the quiet room speakers, and you watched his hands clench into his pants. 

You took a step forward, pushing your arms up as you swung your hips left and right. 

“You said something about an apology earlier, right?” 

I put a spell on you. Because you're mine.

“Yes,” he said, restrained to monosyllabic answers as your hands trailed down to your legs, catching the hem of your dress and pulling it up. 

You revelled in the way his eyes widened, the way the veins in his hands popped as he grasped himself harder, the hitch in his breathing. 

You pulled the offending garment up and danced it off your body until you were stood in just panties and stilettos. 

Without flashing him even a hint of your breasts, though, you turned and sat yourself on his lap. 

“W-We could've just talked here, right? You don't have to do this if you don't want to.”

“I know,” you said, grabbing his hands and covering your chest with them. 

“But you were so earnest earlier, I felt a bit bad too. Let's call this even.”

You didn't get an answer from him, but his hands did start touching you, and you couldn't help but feel as though you'd won anyway. 

You better stop the things that you do.

Taking your nipples between his fingers, he squeezed, and your ass pushed down into his cock, back arching as you began rubbing against his legs. You repositioned, letting your knees fall either some of his leg, leaning forward to balance yourself against his knee as you rocked your core into his leg. 

“So, what's your name, officer.”

“Spencer-” he sighed, voice warm in your ear as he leaned closer, trying to hook his head over your shoulder to watch the rest of your body writhe. 

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“Oh, how fancy, a Doctor. I've never had a doctor before,” you said, straightening and grabbing his hands again. 

“And what a naughty little nurse I've been,” you giggled. 

I tell you, I ain't lyin’.

“I'm not that kind of doctor,” he said, as your hands guided his to your cunt, giving him permission to enter your underwear. 

“And as we've established, I'm not that kind of nurse. But I don't mind.”

He muttered to himself for a second before beginning to pay sweet attention to your clit. As bashful, and shy, and overall clumsy he had seemed outside, he absolutely had the theory of pleasure down to a T. 

The pads of his fingers were rough against your clit, pushing your pleasure buttons roughly as you soaked his pants. 

“That's it, Doctor, that's where the ache was.”

He caught on quickly and kept up his ministrations as you moaned in his lap. 

“Ah, fuck. M-Maybe some medicine would help.me Doctor. A nice big injection.” 

You stood and almost threw a tantrum at the loss of contact, but you returned yourself to his lap quickly. 

He unbuttoned his pants as he stood, and his cock was released and waiting for you when you returned again. 

Before you could get to it, though, his face buried itself in your chest. 

You moaned at the contact, his tongue swirling around your already painfully sensitive nipples. You humped his leg wantonly, giving up the act and becoming the whore he likely thought you were. It was all too much for you, his hot stare, his surprisingly deft fingers. And then he gently bit your nipple, and your cunt clenched around nothing as you twitched and you came. 

“Fuck, cock. Now!” You demanded, as the after waves of your orgasm still rolled through you. You grabbed a condom from the complementary basket nearby and rolled it onto his tip expertly before sinking yourself down on him. 

“D-D you feel better now?” He asked, hands gripping the fat of your thighs as tightly as he'd gripped his pants earlier. 

“Yes, Doctor Reid!” you said, your bounces sloppy as you stretched yourself around his dick. 

He wasn't overly long or ridiculously thick. It was like you'd stumbled into the Goldilock fairy tale, because you'd found the cock that fit you just right. 

Your brain short-circuited after your all too fast orgasm, and you moaned pathetically, almost grumpily as you failed to keep up the stamina. 

You know better, Daddy. I can't stand it ‘cause you put me down.

As if noticing your distress, Spencer stood slightly, using a nearby table to balance out your additional weight, and finally lowered you onto it. You'd taken no notice of it in the past, but you now thanked the heaven that the table was sturdy and roughly cock height, as he began thrusting into you with just the right speed. 

The clock struck six as he licked his fingers again and played with your clit once again, and with a sharp jerk of your hips, your cunt tightened around him and began milking his cock. 

He came with a groan, though admittedly one quieter than your own. 

I put a spell on you.

With a wet pop, his cock exited you, and he quickly went to work discarding the used condom. You tried to sit up quickly, and were surprised you could manage even that much, as you shimmied back into your wet dress. 

“Apology accepted,” you said, as he turned back to you, put together once again. 

You turned to leave, but he caught your waist and spun you back around to him. His lips were on yours in a second. 

His tongue was hot and thick as it opened your mouth, exploring every inch as he forced you to submit once more. When you pulled back, his hand lightly grazed up the side of your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah. You too. Your apology.”

You couldn't help but let out a giggle as he walked you back toward the door, almost pinning you there for a round two. 

“You really thought I was a nurse?”

“It was dark.”

You gave him another peck on the cheek and pulled away, gaining the respectable distance from your customer aa you re-emerged from the private room. 

“I get off at 7,” you whispered yo him finally, before making your way back to the bar. 

Your doctor sat himself down and waited for the clock to strike 7. 

[gutghost]

Imagine you get cheated on...BUT- the cheater turns kinda...yandere?

It felt like an awful nightmare. Bile rising in your throat as you looked at your lover - the person who you loved through their highest and their lowest, the person who you invested blood sweat and tears into, the person you promised yourself to - undoubtedly pressing their lips to another person's. It took a hot minute before you tried to step back, only for you to bump into the doorway, causing a loud thump. The two looked at you, one with horror, the other with confusion. It took you no time to turn around and make a run for it. A hiccup making its way out of your throat as you felt a sob start to shake through your body.

It's been afew months, well. More then few months since that incident, and safe to say you have been doing...fine. not great, but fine. You've decided to collect your things while your lover was away from the house, your friends and family helping you out as you found a new place to live. It was bare bones, considering you didn't take the shared couch, or tv, dressers, not even bed. But it was yours, and you've been getting by. You'd like to think you've gotten stronger.

That was until odd things started happening around your apartment. Things were being moved, shit you know you wouldn't misplace. Your clothes were going missing, much to your dismay. You barely had any, so to lose even one shirt was frustrating. Then roses started appearing in vases in your home. Seeing as actual items were showing up you decided to call the police, and when it seemed that the window to your bedroom was broken, seemingly from an outside force, they told you to invest in better security as they kept a look out.

Which is why you were going to the store so late at night, I mean, what could go wrong?

bad decision, you later decided as you looked at the scene infront of you. Your throat tight, bile rising, just like that night, the night you lost your true love. In front of you was your lover - now ex - looming disheveled, gasping for air as their voice broke, a small, unnerving, almost crazed look, crossing their features.

"My love, my everything, oh please-"

"Dont."

Your lip trembles as you step back, your look of surprise quickly turning into that of anger. They had no right to call out to you with such fondness, not after what they put you through. The pain and suffering, all due to the person who swore to love you.

A look of hurt crossed their face at the sight of you backing away from them, as if you kicked a puppy. The idea sickened you. Quick to try and close the space once more as they struggled to walk straight they would stumble forward. Their voice trembling as they fell to their knees, a whimper coming from them as they scrambled to grab at your sweatpants.

"Please - my love I beg of you, I know what i did was sin, I know - I've never been more sick in the mind then i was that night, oh I was so stupid, thinking I could ever so much as THINK of another woman! Even more so after wards, how could I think I could ever live without you??? You! Oh precious you, the sun only shines when you are near. Those next few weeks were torture my dear, I've never wanted anything more then to RIP MY SKIN OFF WHEN I REALIZED MY MISDEEDS."

Their insane rambling continued as you tried to shove them off, tears starting to stream down their gaunt cheeks. Had they been eating? You wondered as you tried to get them off you.

"I'm...i'm better now though! I've never been thinking clearer, I came to a realization life isn't worth living without you! But by then- you...- you had already left, I tore through that house to try and find you but you had already been far gone. I asked your family, your friends - but all of them simply turned me away, your LOVER - isn't that what I am? I am, aren't i?? They should've...they-"

You couldn't listen to this anymore. A disgusted feeling filling your gut. What did you ever see in them?? You quickly shoved them away, a small gasp coming from them as you stepped away, your ex lover falling backwards onto the sidewalk. A look so firey resting on your face it could rival the heat from the depths of hell.

"You lost that right. You lost it the moment you took that person into your arms, the moment you brought them into our home, the moment you pressed your lips against theirs."

They seemed dumbfounded, sobs starting to wash over their body as they tried to sputter out apologies. But you had none of it.

"Did you get a kick out of it? Seeing me suffer? Seeing me jealous as you placed your hands on that person's? Your lips on them? When i left did you just go right back to kissing on them? Fucking them??"

You spat at them, your ex lover crying their heart out as they struggle to breathe. Whether it be from guilt or heartbreak, you weren't sure. They shook their head as they continued to cry, trying once again to reach out to you, to hold onto you for that comfort you once so readily gave them. But you stepped back, putting space between you once more. A scoff coming from you as you did so

"Baby please don't do this to me, please please please-"

Their voice wavered heavily. Some part of you, the part buried deep down in your heart, ached at the sight of them so broken down. They looked ill, both mentally and physically. But what done was done. You quickly turned on your heels as you made your way home. Your ex lovers cries filling the street as he urged you to come back, to not leave him. To not abandon him.

Maybe some sick part of you felt good that you left them a blubbering mess, after all. They rept what they sown, did they not?

Little did you know, oh how blissfully unaware you were. They were gonna get you back, one way or another. They will have you back in their arms, with all those roses they left in your apartment in pretty vases all over your newly bought home in the woods, far from everyone.

They will have you be their's again.

that corpse that once used to be their side piece left rotting under the concrete of their basement proves it.

[lyricthecat-12]

I urgently needed to talk about the last scene between Sonic and Shadow in the third movie, because I think what they did is simply beautiful. 🥹💙❤️🖤

Before Sonic 3 came out, there was debate over who would be the one to change Shadow's mind since at that point, there was no solid indication that Amy or Rouge would appear. I was a fan of the idea that maybe they'd have Jojo be the one to remind Shadow of Maria's wish, since she was an established character from the start and fits the profile like a cheerful, caring, and optimistic girl.

However, seeing that in the end they made it so that Sonic was the one who talked to Shadow and convinced him to fight to save the world, surprised me and at the same time fascinated me infinitely more. Because they managed to make the change organic by connecting it with narrative elements that were also raised and developed from the beginning; Sonic's grief over losing Longclaw and his paternal relationship with Tom, making this moment something special and significant for both of them:

It is a moment of connection and understanding between two people who have lost the person who was once the most important in their lives, who loved them when no one else did and gave them a home,

That for a long time they had to deal alone with the pain and guilt of having been the trigger for their deaths but, as they emphasize in the film, While Sonic was able to find a family that would love him and help him get better and cope with that pain, Shadow was alone and the only person he interacted with after awakening, only manipulated him in order to fulfill his revenge.

Until this moment, where Shadow finally meets someone who not only knows his pain perfectly but has also learned to move forward and not let it corrupt him even in the most difficult moments, and who in turn motivates him to do the same.

All of this contributes fantastically to their connection, as it is no longer just that their personalities and ways of acting are opposite, but also the way in which their stories correlate and at the same time distinguish each other, creating a new and emotional parallelism between them: They are two sides of the same coin, two extremes that ultimately come together to bring out the best in each other.

Which is beautifully reflected throughout the final battle. Sonic and Shadow display effortless synergy, supporting each other, backing each other up, and even casually joking around.

A good reminder of the great chemistry and dynamism they used to have years ago. Unlike now that they make it seem like Shadow barely tolerates Sonic, before they both had a friendly rivalry where they respected each other, valued each other and helped each other without problem. And I'm really glad the movie brought back some of that dynamic and reflected it in such a natural and fun way, and I hope that continues for future SCU projects instead of sticking to the current direction.

And I'm not just saying this because I'm a fan of Sonadow, but because I genuinely believe that this is the most natural direction for their relationship after all this time.

[lassieposting]

Been thinking a lot lately about romanced Astarion post-spawn ending.

Because like. The Funnest™ thing about cptsd is how much of it gets delayed. When you're trapped in a lengthy, ongoing traumatic situation, you do not have the ability to process and start healing your mental wounds. Your brain and body go into survival mode, and all that matters in the moment is that you somehow cope with the horrors. He wouldn't have been able to even begin dealing with the physical, mental and emotional toll of two hundred years of torture, brutalization and dehumanization while he was under Cazador's control; he is in constant danger, surrounded by sharks in the water, and survival means not letting them smell blood. He can't afford to fall apart, to show weakness. He is shockingly functional and competent in-game, partly because he has to be to work as a game character, but also partly because...it do be like that, to some degree. When death, for whatever reason, is not an option, you just have to shut down and keep going. People adapt in order to survive, and when we learn that showing an "injury" (physical or psychological) only gets us punished, we learn to hide it.

Early-game Astarion is terrified - of Cazador, of Godey, of being hunted down by his siblings, of being staked or sold off at the first opportunity by Tav and the other companions, of turning into a mindflayer, of another painful transformation, of losing himself when he's only just regained his autonomy after two centuries, of what Cazador will do to him if he ever finds him - the man is overwhelmed by fear. He's on thin ice as a vampire, and he's not going to give them any more reason to want him gone. Survival instinct is still in control, and in this new situation, crafting some fragile safety for himself means not only selling his body for protection, but also being useful. Clear-headed. Good in a fight.

Endgame Astarion finds himself in a completely different situation. The time-sensitive overarching threats - Cazador and impending ceremorphosis - have been dealt with. He has a loving, supportive partner he's really starting to feel safe with - Tav/Durge has proved that they're on his side, that their affection is genuine, that they don't just want him for the one thing he's been told he's good for. They've told him they're going to help him find a workaround for his sun allergy. He's getting fed regularly. He has time to stop, and breathe, and just. Recuperate.

For the first time in 200 years, he is safe.

And it will probably take a while to catch up, during which time he will seem to be coping really well, but at some point, his brain is going to realise that he's safe, and it's going to finally start processing the sheer fucking horror he's been through. Since I haven't seen anyone talking about this particular fun aspect of cptsd, allow me to offer u some thoughts on issues Astarion and Tav might end up dealing with in the months/years postgame, during the

✨ Delayed Trauma Response ✨

Memory Gaps: Astarion realising, as he opens up to Tav, that there are entire years or decades of his life from which he has only a handful of memories. Great big blank stretches where he has no idea where he was, who he was with, what was happening to him. Some of the gaps cover years at a time where he was so dissociated and shut down that he just didn't retain any memories of what was going on around him. Some are shorter periods of particularly horrific torture that his brain has deliberately blocked out to protect him.

Recovered Memories: At some point, years into the future when he's done A Lot of healing, he might find that every now and then, a fragment of those lost memories will unexpectedly come back to him. He'll catch a particular scent on the breeze, or overhear a specific phrase in the street, or cross paths with someone whose face is oddly familiar, and he'll get a glimpse of an acute horror he'd filed neatly away where it couldn't hurt him anymore. He very rarely remembers all the context to those flashes of his past. He might recall that he was punished, but not what he was punished for, or he might remember words spoken by a greedy conquest, but be unable to recall the man's face.

Dissociation: Tav knows going into this relationship that Astarion has basically made an art out of dissociating during sex. They also know, from their shared encounter with the drow twins, that he's not great at enforcing his own boundaries - he'll always say he'll speak up and back out if he stops having fun, but in practice he rarely does; he's not used to having the option of saying no to his partner, and being punished if he tries. So they know there's going to be some practice and experimentation and negotiation necessary there, to figure out the rough limits of his comfort zone. But once he starts really processing, there may be days where he just checks out completely. Tav will touch his shoulder, and he'll startle and apologise - "Terribly sorry, darling, I was miles away for a moment there." And Tav will gently point out that he's been sat in the same spot vacantly staring into the middle distance for hours. They've been checking in on him occasionally and this is the first time he's responded. It's unsettling, to say the least.

Lost Time: Astarion was very young when he was turned, physically mature but emotionally juvenile. He was basically an overgrown teenager, in the phase of life where elves are just starting to learn who they are and what they want, and figure out their place in the world. But he never got to do that, because he spent his formative young adult years in a world where everyone became an abuser, where his only means of surviving was to smile and charm and obey while even his basic human dignity was stripped away. He learned that communication is based on manipulation. He learned that the powerful can do whatever they like to the weak. He learned an incredibly toxic, abusive way of life, and that was his family dynamic, his everyday life, for as long as he can remember. Now that he's free and safe, he's realising that the world doesn't actually work that way and that he's now far behind even shorter-lived races in social/emotional development. He's grieving for the person he could've been. He's grieving for the life he could've lived. He's grieving for all the years he already lost, and the ones he'll lose in the future as he flounders to catch up. A decent chunk of his life was stolen from him, and that's time he will never get back.

Flashbacks & Night Terrors: Specifically the kind where your brain convinces you that an injury you had a long time ago is actually an injury you have (or are receiving) right now. There are nights where he'll wake Tav in a panic, because his back feels like it's on fire, he can feel every freshly-carved wound dripping blood and he's in so much pain he doesn't know what else to do. If Tav looks, they see nothing out of the ordinary - old, long-healed scars, same as always. But the pain and the fear and the distress are all very real to him, and all they can do is try to comfort him, cover his back with cool damp cloths or healing salves, remind him he's safe now and they're not leaving him.

Boundary Shifting: Sometimes, Tav can come up and hug him from behind, and he'll melt into them a little bit and go all soft and happy. Other times, he might flinch away or go rigid at the same gesture. A lot of the time, it really depends on how he's feeling on the day, but at least a little bit of it is deliberate - he's pushing to find the limit of just how much autonomy Tav is willing to give him. He wants to know at what point they'll stop respecting his "no". Will they accept it if he doesn't want a hug? If he wants to sleep in his own room tonight? At what point will understanding turn to anger at being rejected? From the drow twins four/fivesome, we also know he's got a tendency to push his own boundaries, and jump into things he's actually not ready for, and Tav would be the one holding his hand through the fallout as he tries to figure out what his own boundaries even are.

Frustration! So, so much frustration. He wants to be Over It already. He wants to move past everything that ever happened to him and never think about it again. He hates that Cazador still has a grip on him, even in death - he doesn't want to give the bastard the satisfaction of dwelling on all his punishments, his cruelties. Sometimes, that frustration is going to explode outwards at Tav - he'll get angry at them for coddling him, or find something small to start a fight over, or he'll set an unreasonable boundary and try to defend it because he's still learning what healthy boundaries look like. Sometimes, it will implode inwards, and that won't be about Tav at all, but they'll get the brunt of it all the same - it might come out as self-loathing or self-punishment, and he'll react by doing something stupid, like trying to drive them away, because having a secure, relatively healthy relationship is terrifying and the instinct is to destroy it before Tav can. There will be yelling and angry tears and deeply unhealthy coping mechanisms, and they'd have to work through that. Trauma is ugly, and Astarion is right at the beginning of a very long journey towards healing.

Abandonment Issues: Astarion wants the relationship to be one between equals, but he's kind of got Tav on a pedestal all the same. They saved him. They helped him get rid of Cazador for good. They chose him and love him despite a wealth of better (in his eyes) options, and all his baggage. They stayed with him even when he has very little to offer them. We know his vanity and obnoxious self-absorption is a fragile attempt to obscure the fact that his self-esteem is in the dirt and he has virtually no self-worth, and there are a couple of occasions in-game where it becomes clear that he's afraid of losing the one person who somehow considers him lovable. After seeing Sebastian and all the other conquests, he begs Tav not to hate him, saying that he did what he had to. If he has a rival for Tav's affections, and Tav informs him that they broke up with the rival to be with Astarion, he's shocked and the first thing out of his mouth is, "You ended things with them for me? Why?" And if Durge tries to break up with him for his own safety, his facade drops and he immediately asks if he did something wrong. So while he's not afraid to argue with Tav, if something happens - like an angry outburst - that upsets or angers them, and he thinks he's at risk of losing that one steady, stable person in his life, he might well cling and overcompensate to try and repair what he thinks is a fracture in their relationship. He'll fawn or beg or crawl into Tav's bed to "apologise" and "make it up to them" because, well, very occasionally it worked on Cazador. With patience and good communication and lots of repeatedly driving the lesson home to overcome 200 years of education to the contrary, he will eventually start to believe that "I'm really pissed off at you right now," does not equate to, "You are the worst mistake I've ever made and I am leaving you."

Panic Attacks: I feel like honestly he'd get some symptoms of these on a fairly regular basis, but he's never been given any option other than just trying to power through them. He's used to realising he's shaking, he's used to feeling like he's watching himself from outside his body, or like he can't breathe even though he doesn't need to. He's very familiar with the sickening fear in his gut, so intense it makes his head spin. He's not used to being comforted or reassured about them - he thinks they're normal. Tav disagrees.

Anyway, cptsd is messy and complicated and often looks very different from person to person so these will not represent everyone's but these are just some ideas for what the ongoing recovery process might make them work through, based on the aspects I'm most familiar with.

Projecting? Who's projecting? I'm not projecting. Shut up.

[tagasaing]

i have to get this out of the way, re: dungeon meshi discussions

major spoilers ahead, obviously.

you know for a series that focuses so much on platonic and familial relationships it’s weird that dungeon meshi has attracted so much useless ship wars though. the most important driving force in the story is two sibling relationships (laios’s search for falin, thistle’s search for delgal) and one of the central themes is how loving others way too much can lead to your downfall (thistle’s desperate attempt to keep his loved ones leads to his mental state deteriorating so much he starts torturing people he claims to protect, marcille’s fear of losing her friends leads to her being easily manipulated by the main antagonist)

even with regards to falin. thistle wants to bring the ‘brother’ he raised back at all costs, he saw a young human woman as nothing more than a dragon, his tool. marcille wants to bring falin back at all costs, she didn’t care about the repercussions of using monster meat instead of animal meat even though she was an expert at ancient magic and should know why it’s such a dangerous practice.

each and every single one of the major characters has some form of tragedy with their family one way or another: the toudens, marcille and her dad. chilchuck and his wife. senshi’s entire backstory. izutsumi’s hidden desire for a mother. namari’s father. shuro and his family. kabru and his mother(both tallman and elf). mithrun and his brother. thistle and the melinis.

even some of the minor characters: flamela and her dead twin sister. the twins and the floke couple. kuro being the closest mickbell has to a family. etc etc

as someone who has reread this manga several times by now, i wonder if people just… read it once as fast as they could and act like they’re some sort of authority on fan discussion. i’ve seen people brag about reading the entire thing in one sitting as if it’s something to be proud of. this manga isn’t meant to be read that fast, that’s how you get people claiming that laios doesn’t reaaally love falin as much as marcille does.

to these people, laios just gets in the way, as if it wasn’t his idea to go down the dungeon in the first place, it wasn’t him who said his pain doesn’t matter because falin suffered more than him, it wasn’t him who felt immense guilt for leaving falin behind, it wasn’t him who found her skull, it wasn’t him who killed her to save her from her chimera form. i feel like people forget about the ‘too’ part when marcille said “i miss falin too”

marcille knows how much falin and laios love each other. that’s why she asked him if she’s allowed to resurrect her and didn’t act on her own. that’s why when both times a shapeshifting monster copied marcille to trick laios, it was what she looked like at the time she was reviving falin.

as someone who DOES ship farcille, none of the romance is canon. this isn’t meant to be anti-farcille. one of the post-canon comics is about falin gently turning down shuro because she wants to travel the world, “you can’t tie a dragon down” after all. she wants to travel the world and find herself because she doesn’t know who she is outside of marcille and laios. even marcille, who was hoping she’d reject him, tears up because of how beautiful and tragic it was.

there are a lot of ship teases because what author doesn’t like a good ship tease. but to say that dungeon meshi is a romantic love more than it is a story about family(both real and found) is a great misinterpretation of the text.

[bluessmutifyplaylist]

Had to use my memory to make this but…

Sebek losing his composure and biting you all over with his sharp teeth excluding but very near your nape while he hammers into you in a frenzy. He’s whispering frantically about how much he wants to stuff you full of his eggs/kin.

Malleus begging you to let him pleasure you as he’s teary eyed and flustered from how amazing your scent is to him. It’s making him go crazy over how much he wants you.

Trey giving you licks of his homemade whip cream on a spoon every time you let him bite you. Bonus: When you don’t want to eat any more, he puts the rest on various parts of your body and bites <3

-🌊

Warnings: 18+, AFAB!Reader who uses she/her pronouns, very self-indulgent, I love 🌊 Anon and miss them dearly

Trey Clover

The whipped cream was cool against the skin of your tummy, making you shiver. However, it was quickly contrasted with the feeling of your boyfriend’s tongue swiping up the cream. 

His warm smile and chuckle as he lowered himself between your legs made your heart flutter, and he gently held your thighs and placed them on his shoulders. His tongue made one flick against your cunt, and he was pussydrunk. 

You were sweeter than any cream, and his hands went to your hips to hold you still as he continued slurping, licking… his tongue swirled around your clit, making you writhe in pleasure…

To the baker, he could die happily drowning in your pussy. Your juices were all over his face and mouth, and he was only going to make you messier.

He reached into his pants as he started stroking himself while continuing to eat your pussy, mumbling praises as your thighs wrapped around his head.

“You have such a pretty pussy, baby…” He whispered against your cunt. He soon parted to press kisses against your inner thighs, biting your right thigh slightly before returning to your warm, delicious pussy. “She’s just leakin’...”

Soon, you reach your climax and cum all over his face, and he smiled as he stood up. He didn’t cum yet, but he didn’t need to. Seeing you panting as you come down from your high was good enough for him.

Malleus Draconia

There were tears in his eyes as you straddled him, and his hips were grinding up into you, his cock rubbing against your panties. His deep voice let out groans as he begged you to let him inside you, to fuck his clutch into you. To make you his. 

He quickly flipped you both over so he was on top, and he lowered his head into the crook of your neck and inhaled your scent. Great Sevens, you even smelled beautiful… 

Malleus couldn’t take it anymore. He pressed kiss after kiss to your neck, trying to distract you from the inevitable pain as he slid your panties to the side and lined his cock up to your glistening entrance..

“Darling… you need to let me in…” He whispers desperately. He looks like a man on the brink of insanity. “Please…”

Once you give him a nod, he sinks into your warmth. He buries himself completely, pressing his lips to yours until he bottoms out inside of you. You just felt so full… his cock was so big and girthy… your nails dug into his back as you tried to adjust to his size.

“My love, relax…” You follow his instructions, and he soon starts thrusting. It had no pace… no pattern… but his dick was just so large that it hit everything it needed to in order to keep you squirming.

Sebek Zigvolt

His father is a dentist. His mother is his father’s assistant. All three of the Zigvolt children probably have wonderful pearly whites. His biting power is also unmatched, considering it is a trait that carries down from Mrs. Zigvolt.

That being said, you were the only one to experience it in this manner… His fangs sink down into the nape of your neck, drawing blood. His tongue quickly lapped it up, and the groan he let out almost made you cum for the third time.

Sebek’s cock was drilling into you faster than you could even process. What he was whispering to you was even more sexy than the aroma of sex that was in the air of the Ramshackle dormitory… in which Grim was not present.

“When I plant my eggs inside you, darling… our kin will sit in your womb until they are ready to come out. You want that, my love? You want to have my hatchlings?”

You couldn’t help it as you arched your back and came all over his cock once again, and when he felt your walls squeeze him, he gave a few more frantic thrusts before he came inside of you, panting.

The smell of his cologne, mixed with his natural musk, covered you entirely, and he found his heart swelling with pride. He had claimed his mate… the future mother of his children. He looked you over, and the bite marks all over your body further proved this point.

[luveline]

—you meet Spencer again after losing out on the BAU job. he comforts you while you do your best not to flirt. bombshell!reader, 0.9k

You lose out on the BAU job to Elle Greenaway. It drives you crazy.

You work just as hard as Elle does, you’re professional no matter what Jason Gideon has to say about you, and you know you could do it. You have just as many successes as Elle does.

It makes you feel sick. You tried so, so hard.

I’m sorry, Hotch had said, and at least you’d had his support. He was kind enough to tell you in person. I can’t make the decision without Gideon, and if he thinks you aren’t right for it right now, we’ll have to wait.

Wait. As though Jason Gideon was ever going to change his mind about you.

You open your purse and take out the barrel of your sheer lipstick. Your compact is next. You hold the mirror up and angle your face in the sun, popping the lid off of the lipstick, and pressing its flat end to your bottom lip. The line you draw is perfectly precise. Your hand barely trembles.

You drop the mirror down and rub your lips together slowly. No matter what falls out of your control, you can present yourself to your liking. You can be immaculate. You—

“Hi.”

You look up from your rumination, startled. You’d been thinking so hard someone actually got the run up on you.

“Hi,” you say, tilting your head gently toward your shoulder.

Dr. Spencer Reid stands a polite three feet away from you. He’s suddenly changed. The last time you met him he was wearing his long hair in a side part. Now it’s split down the middle, just a touch shorter at the sides, and he’s wearing glasses.

(He’s wearing glasses!)

You’d thought he was pretty before.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” you say, tempted to call him baby, maybe sweetheart. He’s a sweet looking boy. His sweater vest makes you wanna hold his hand. “Thank you for asking. Why are you asking?”

You talk to him with no derision nor malice, just curiosity.

He frowns. It gives his eyes a sad shine. “I know you wanted the open position. You would’ve been great at it.”

“You think so?” you ask, surprised.

“I’ve seen some of your write ups. We’ve used your summaries in one of our profiles, do you… remember that?”

You send Hotch anything he wants to see.

“I don’t know why Gideon doesn’t like you… He’s so rarely wrong about people, but you’re…” He licks his lips nervously. “You’re– you’re smart. You’re inquisitive. I think you would be an asset to the team, and it’s a shame you didn’t get your chance.”

You’re making him nervous and it isn’t your intention. You put your hands in your lap and stop giving him the look, swapping your amicable smile for a proper friendly one. “Thank you. Is it okay if I call you Spencer? Dr. Spencer Reid is a lot to say at once.”

He laughs, still nervous. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

“Spencer, thank you for caring so much, but I’m okay. I think I might still have a chance one day, but with Elle gone, the sex crimes division is going to need me.” You lift your chin. If he’s sought you out to tell you he’s sorry, your premonitions about him when you met a few weeks ago were correct. He’s as kind as he is pretty. “I love your glasses. Are they for reading?”

“I always wore glasses when I was a kid, and then I started working here, and I thought it might make me seem less… childish, if I wore contacts, but they’re the worst.”

You laugh happily. He says it in such a pained voice. “The glasses suit you so much,” you say, shoving your things into your bag and standing. “Did you wanna go for coffee? I need a pick me up before I go back to the office.”

Spencer touches his wrist. “Are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious?” you ask, again, without a drop of malice. You’re not stupid, Spencer has all the nervousness of someone who’s been mistreated before, and heartily, and it’s easy to be soft with him not solely because of it, but because he seems so sweet. You could happily be his friend. “Do you like coffee? We could get those hot donuts from the cafeteria, have you tried those?”

You close the little gap between you both and raise your hand carefully to his face. Gentle, you try to pull a stray hair from the hinge of his glasses leg without snapping it.

“You can tell me all the stuff I’m doing wrong.”

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Spencer says.

“Come on, there has to be something.”

His mouth gives him away. “It’s not that you’re doing it wrong, you’re just– you– you’re not looking at things the…” Your fingertip brushes his cheek as you drop your hand. “…Right way, sometimes.”

“I wanted your recommendations.” You bump his elbow with yours. “I’ll buy you a coffee and you can write me a list. Cool?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes. Cool.”

You’re thinking it’ll be the start of a good friendship. You and Dr. Reid make quite a pair.