#guy's working through his shit the best way he can and it's not pretty but he's getting better. he's worth more than he got as a kid

[oliviasroses19]

Polin ramble coming in hot!

After it was revealed that Colin was helping Penelope find a husband, we have matching shots of each of them yearningly looking out the window.

We see Colin, having just read Whistledown, looking out across the square to the Featherington house. It’s a very short shot and it’s easy to just chalk it up to him being concerned for Pen. Which he is absolutely worried. She’s been utterly trashed in Whistledown, while he was left pretty much unscathed. Obviously this is because Penelope wrote it, but Colin doesn’t know this. So we have hero!colin who, in his desperation to fix his past mistake with Pen, has now created an entirely new and even worse situation for her. Colin has big feelings, guilt being the main one at the moment, that he has to compartmentalize and plan and work through before he does anything. He’s feeling like he squandered his chance to make things up to Penelope and may even be scared that he’s lost her again after barely getting her back. He most likely spent the entire day planning what he needed to say to Penelope, so by the time he actually does visit her, it is late in the evening. (There is also the risk of causing more scandal by calling on her, which is widely agreed upon within the fandom as to why he visits her at night.)

Then we have Pen, who is convinced she has ruined any prospect of marriage. She is taking the blame in this situation, having written what she did while leaving Colin as the innocent party. Enter Portia, who digs the knife in even deeper by pretty much telling Penelope that it was crazy to even think she had a chance at finding a suitor in the first place. Poor Penelope was already feeling low and to have her own mother confirm her fears is absolutely terrible to watch. She spends the rest of the day staring out her window accepting her fate as a spinster.

Until Colin shows up and now neither of them are looking out windows. They’re face to face and they are both feeling so much. Colin can barely get a word out before Penelope is asking him to kiss her.

(This is by far one of my favorite scenes to see analyzed and I am a firm believer that he absolutely did want to kiss her. We can use the book as reference to his inner thoughts as well as what we know of show!colin. My point in the next part can be taken however the reader would like to)

Is there a part of Colin who wants to kiss Pen? Absolutely. Is this a bad idea? Undoubtedly. Is this something he can give her when he has ruined her reputation not once, but twice now? Yes. Colin hates seeing Penelope upset, and if there is even the smallest chance this will make her feel better, propriety be damned, he’ll do it. He’s an “acts of service” guy through and through, which feeds his hero complex and insecurities that if he can’t do something for someone, what good is he to them. Unfortunately, this usually blows up in his face. In this instance, hero!colin makes an appearance, and it blows up in his face in the best way possible because holy shit he loves kissing her.

Consequences: 1,000

Hero!colin: 2 -1 because now he has to deal with yearning for Pen having now realized his feelings.

[gen-is-gone]

hrgh every time I think I've come close to forgiving lance fucking parkin I skim the gallifrey chronicles. and then I remember the Horrors.

[skrunksthatwunk]

yusuke urameshi thank you for being an icon for neglected kids who got mad about it

[nicksolemnlyswears]

THE BEAR AND THE BEE HIVE

summary: in which carmy falls for the sweet café owner that supplies him with endless americanos

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

word count: 14.4k

warning: it's a little bit of a slow burn. sorry. i'm a sucker for it and i feel like carmy is a slow burn kinda guy. 18 +, cursing, smut, p in v, oral (m. receiving), fingering, they use protection guys! i deserve a pat in the back. nothing too wild. oh, and very brief mention of suicide.

a/n: i started writing this way back in october and then it was nearly done and i abandoned it. well i finally got around to completing it tonight!

this is my first time ever writing for carmy and i tried my best writing this. i love carmy and the show but i didn’t expect it to be hard to write him as a character. i wanted to get him right so i took my time with it and didn’t rush it. hopefully you guys like my carmy. enjoy!

i think i've had this stored in my drafts for like 4 months and it's time for me to set it free.

The cigarettes were not enough anymore. No matter how many smoke breaks Carmy took, he still felt the edge on his shoulders. A fear laced with anxiety that overtook him.

After deciding that blowing through yet another wall in his restaurant was the way to go, Carmy took a break. He needed it before he used the sledgehammer to destroy the restaurant in its entirety, along with his dream.

He remembers a coffee shop only a block away from The Bear and thinks he could use a coffee right about now. Maybe the mixture of caffeine and nicotine will be able to relax his shoulders, if only for an hour.

As soon as he opens the door, the smell of ground coffee beans greets him. He looks around, taking in the cozy ambiance the decorative wood brings to the place and the splashes of warm yellow that lighten it up.

Then he sees you, and his focus shifts entirely. His eyes only see you.

"Hi, welcome to Bee Hive!" You chirp with a small smile.

Carmy freezes, forgetting why he's there in the first place. He slowly steps up to the register, where you patiently wait for him. It's just after the lunch rush, so you're in no hurry.

He finds he's acting like a teenager who has just seen a pretty girl. Only he's not a teenager, and you're more than a pretty girl.

"What can I get for you today?" You ask, not noticing the effect you've had on him. You take a sharpie out of your yellow apron, preparing to scribble down his order in a cup.

Carmy has perfected the empty on the outside but screaming on the inside face. Strangers don't tend to know he's almost always losing his shit.

"I-I don't…sorry," Carmy looks at you briefly before diverting his eyes. He apologizes in a flurry, looking for an excuse for his weird behavior, "Uh, it's my first time here. What do you recommend?"

"It's not a problem," you say softly as if to calm him, "I'm a simple girl. I love the latte, but if you're looking for something stronger, the americano is one of the favorites."

Carmy nods as you ramble about the drinks, where the coffee beans come from, and the different notes of each blend. He hangs onto every word that slips from your lips. The static in his brain clearing up for the first time in hours.

It ends too soon as you realize you're talking too much and probably overwhelmed him. You sheepishly smile at him and trail off, but he continues to stare, waiting for you to continue.

"I'll take the Americano," Carmy nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile. Although he had been hanging to every one of your words, he was too focused on the shape of your lips and the sweet tone of your voice.

"Good choice," you nod, grabbing a cup from the tray beside you, "What's your name?"

Carmy looks up, slightly alarmed, as if you've asked for his social security number. "What?" He thinks you'll be forward and ask for his number next, seemingly forgetting how coffee orders work.

"Your name? For the order?" You explain, trying to ease his worries. He's odd, but in an endearing way. You believe this is his first time here because you're confident you would've remembered him.

"Fuck, right, yeah," he nervously says, pinching the bridge of his nose, "My name's Carmen."

"Your Americano will be right out, Carmen," you tell him, capping your sharpie back up.

Carmy quickly pays and stands to the side to wait for his order. He forces himself to not look at you or in your direction as you take other customers' orders. He just knows he's made a fool of himself already. Not that it matters. Why would it matter? He's there for the coffee. Nothing else, no one else.

As he walks out of Bee Hive, he sips his coffee. His shoulders instantly drop, and his fear-induced anxiety starts to dissipate for the moment. He's unsure if the effect is because of the caffeine or the thoughts of your pretty smile.

Visiting your coffee shop becomes routine for Carmy. Whenever things at The Bear become crazy -or he starts to lose his fuckin' mind- he makes his way to Bee Hive with a cigarette hanging from his lips.

For twenty minutes, he's free of Richie's constant hounding, Sugar's struggles with the permits and scheduling, and Sydney's disappointment because the menu is still extremely underway.

Each time he's stopped by, you've been there to greet him, and each time, you've left a little heart by Carmen's name, which makes his heart race in a peculiar way. His hands would touch his chest to check if it was heartburn, but it didn't feel like that. It's not anxiety either cause he knows pretty well how that feels.

All he knows is he hasn't done anything to deserve such a gesture. He's convinced himself you draw little hearts for everyone because he's not special.

One Thursday afternoon, Carmy realizes he doesn't know your name. He looks for a name tag, but you're not wearing one on your yellow apron. He should know your name if you insist on making small talk despite his short answers.

He can't help it. He gets too in his head to answer like a normal person, so his answers come out choppy and dry.

"Alright, Carmen, your order will be right out," you say, handing his cup to one of the baristas. You always hold out and ask him what he wants to order. He has the right to change his mind anytime, but for now, he's stuck with the americano, which he drowns in sugar.

As curiosity eats at him, he gathers the courage to ask. "Thanks. Hey, uh, I've-I’ve never gotten your name…” Carmy says, cursing at himself for not formulating the question correctly. His hand comes up to grip his hair instinctually.

Your smile widens when he asks your name. The silly crush you've developed for your customer fluttering to life. It's just a crush over a stranger, nothing to write home about.

You tell him your name but follow it with "-call me Honey. Everyone knows me by that name. I'm sure if you ask my friends about me with my real name, you'll throw them for a loop."

You're rambling, hoping he doesn't think calling you by your nickname is weird. Then again, how can he judge when he has a sister people call 'Sugar' and he and his siblings also don the nickname 'Bear.'

"Honey." Carmy repeats your nickname, smiling as he finds it fitting. "In that case, call me Carmy."

"Nice to properly meet you, Carmy," you say, grinning.

Like all the days before, Carmy steps aside and waits for his coffee. He doesn't let himself continue the conversation or ask more about you even if it’s everything he wants to do.

It's rare for Carmy to be in a good mood, and whenever it happens, it doesn't tend to last. His goal of opening a restaurant in 12 weeks makes it impossible for him to relax and enjoy the ride. To prolong this unusual feeling, Carmy stops by Bee Hive on his way to The Bear.

"Have you made your boss angry, Honey?" He asks as he pulls out his wallet to pay. He ordered the americano as he always does.

"No…why do you ask?" You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

"Uh, 'cause you-you're always here. Do you not take days off? Not that I'm complaining. I-I like seeing you here." Carmy's words get quieter as he speaks, red creeping up his neck. So much for trying to make a joke.

You look around the room and tell him, "Imma let you in on a little secret."

Carmy follows your hand, waving him to get closer. The smell of cigarettes invades your senses as you get close to him. You'd never admit that the mix of his cigarettes and your coffee is addicting. As both lean over the counter, you whisper, "I'm the boss. I can't run away even if I wanted to."

"You own the coffee shop," Carmy pans in shock.

Carmy is more than surprised at your words. Especially now that he knows how expensive it is to open a business. You can't be a day over 25 and own a successful coffee place. There is hope, after all.

"I do," you nod, standing straight once more.

A couple of years ago, you had inherited a hefty amount of money from an estranged aunt. Fresh out of college and with no real plan, you thought it would be a good moment to follow your dream and open the cozy café.

"How do you do it?" Carmy asks, amazed at the girl smiling at him. "I don't know if you know, but, um, I-I'm opening the restaurant around the block. Used to be The Beef?" He finishes grimly as he points to his side of the block.

"Oh, yeah. The guys who worked there helped me move some equipment when I first opened two years ago," you reveal, "Tell you what, whenever you have a break, come around. I'll give you a free americano and tell you all about it. Neighbor to neighbor."

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Carmy agrees. "I'll take you up on that."

Weeks go by, and Carmy seemingly forgets about Bee Hive and your pending conversation. You try not to overthink about his absence or how you might've scared him away. He's probably just busy remodeling his restaurant. You know better than anyone how much time that takes.

Still, his presence has become part of your routine, and you can't help but look at the door each time the bell rings. You expect to see him walking up to the counter, the remnants of cigarette smoke coming out his nose as he breathes.

You're pretty close to your assumption because Carmy has been dealing with the fire suppression test. They didn't fail the test once but twice, and if they didn't pass it on the third try, their plan to open the restaurant in 12 weeks goes out the window. Fak has tried everything, and nothing works.

He'd sent Richie once on a coffee run, but the fuckin' idiot went to the nearest Starbucks. Carmy had been looking forward to tasting your coffee and seeing his name in the cup with the little heart because he's 100% sure he's the only Carmen you know. It's not a common name in these parts of town.

One very early morning, he's walking to work, and as he passes Bee Hive, he sees you inside, wiping tables down before you open at 6:30.

Impulsively, he knocks on the glass, not giving himself the time to overthink things. You turn to look at the window and see him standing outside, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his familiar plaid jacket to protect himself from the chilly March air.

"Hey stranger," you greet him, opening the door and inviting him in.

"Hi," he breathes out, staring at you, "you're here early," he tries to casually mention.

You roll your eyes dramatically and say, "It's a downside of the job. Did you know people want coffee at the crack of dawn?"

You try acting as nonchalant as possible. It's not like you missed seeing one of your favorite customers, his beautiful blue eyes, or the way he rocks a simple white t-shirt.

"I had no idea," Carmy smiles, bringing his tattooed hand up to his lips, "I, uh, usually drink mine at night." That much is true. On those sleepless nights when insomnia takes over him, the best remedy is coffee.

"Would you make an exception and join me for a morning coffee at the crack ass of dawn?" Anxiously, you play with the rings on your fingers. It feels like you're asking the guy on a date when it's just a friendly coffee.

"As long as you have some business advice to spare?" Carmy responds shakily. He briefly looks down the street to glimpse at his restaurant. It's too early for anyone to be there yet.

"Deal."

Throwing the towel over your shoulder, you make your way behind the counter. Carmy attempts to make small talk with you as you prepare both drinks.

This is the first time he's watching you in action since you tend to stick to the cash register when he's around. It's not a coincidence. After the first time he came to Bee Hive, you wanted to see more of him, so you stationed yourself at the register where you'd be sure to see him, and he'd see you.

"Here you go." You place his coffee mug on the table along with yours before disappearing momentarily and returning with an orange soufflé coffee cake. You're pulling all the stops for Carmy to leave a good impression.

Carmy thanks you and sips his coffee, "Wow, this is fire!" He expected to taste an americano, but what you prepared was entirely different. He can make out hints of hazelnut and caramel in the coffee.

"Thanks. I took the liberty of changing your order. You can always come back to the americano, though…" you shrug shyly, looking at him over the rim of your mug.

"I-I appreciate it. Thanks." Carmy throws you a nervous grin. He gestures with his tattooed hand to dig into the cake you brought out. He shouldn't be the only one eating.

You and Carmy share the cake as you talk about yourselves and the crazy businesses you own. Somehow, talking to you comes easy to him. He's still nervous and scared to fuck things up, but the warm coffee and your even warmer smile ease him into it.

"How do you do it? This place is always packed, and you seem like you run a tight ship," Carmy wonders, playing with the fork. The cake is long gone, although the notes of orange remain on his tongue. Would you taste the same?

"It wasn't without mistakes. I had to learn a lot from my fuck ups and listen to my team because although I'm the owner, they are the ones doing most of the work. Whenever there's a flaw, they are the first to know," you speak softly, afraid of ruining the calm ambiance you've set up, twirling the small amount of coffee left in your mug.

It's your favorite part of morning coffee. When you have just the smallest bit of coffee left, and you know you'll never drink it because it's cold, but it gives you an excuse to remain where you are.

"So, all I gotta do is listen?" It's funny you say that because Carmy listens, but his friend's voices get muddled somewhere along the way. As much as he tries to focus on them, they merge together and form a cacophony in his head.

"A lot of listening and a lot of experimentation. I've been open for two years, and it's only been in the last six months that I can confidently tell you we found our groove," you admit with a grimace.

Bee Hive is your baby, but bringing it to life was everything but easy. You messed up so many times, costing you so much money. You didn't know shit about owning a business or building one from the ground up. Doing research and putting your pride aside to ask for help got you through it.

"I've only been doing this for, like, less than a fuckin' year, and I already want to pull my hair out," Carmy admits with a pitiful laugh.

"I'm sorry I can't tell you it gets better soon," you say apologetically, reaching for his hand that rests on the table.

Carmy freezes, glancing at your hand on top of his. He hasn't got a clue what to fucking do with the display of affection. Was it a display of affection? He doesn't fucking know. "It's, uh, it's, uh, it's alright. As-as long as you give me coffee, I think I can make it through," Carmen furrows his eyebrows as he stutters through the sentence.

"I can't wait to see what the award-winning chef does," you say, bringing your hand back to your lap, none the wiser to Carmy's internal struggle.

He should've done something to keep your hand on his. Place his other hand on yours or fucking turn his hand around to grasp it. He liked feeling your warm skin on his. It hasn't been a minute since you pulled away, and he's craving it already. It's ridiculous. Is he really that touch-starved that he's seeking affection from a near stranger?

He coughs and darts his eyes between the wooden table top and you, "Fuck. You-you know about that?"

"I might've done some research after finding out you're opening the restaurant. I got curious. I'm sorry." Apologizing is your default thing to do. Messing things up is your area of expertise. You really didn't think he'd mind you mentioning it.

"No, no, no, uh, you don't have to apologize. You just caught me off guard," Carmy shakes his head, reassuring both of you.

"Okay, good," you lightly smile at him, averting your eyes when your gazes meet.

If there's a time for you to make a move, it's now. Taking a shaky breath, you speak up, "I was wondering if you'd ever like to-."

A loud knock on the glass door interrupts you. You and Carmy jump and look towards the source of the noise. It's one of your regular clients, waving at you to open up. Looking at your watch, you see it's 6:30 already.

"Shit. I'm-I'm sorry I took so much of your time," Carmy apologizes, picking up his mug and the plate to put away.

You grab his wrist to make him stop in his tracks, "Relax. I enjoyed talking to you. Maybe we can do it again soon?"

Carmy nods wide-eyed. He likes the idea just as much as you do. You take away the mug and plate with a soft 'okay.' He then follows you to the door as you unlock it and turn the sign to 'open.'

"I, um, gotta go work on the menu. I'll probably be back later for another coffee?" Carmen asks you as if he's asking for permission, which you find adorable.

"I'll be behind the register," you say, watching him walk away. He turns his head back for a moment, and you catch the smile gracing his lips as yours turns to mimic him.

"Oh, he's cute," your customer, an older lady, says, watching him go along with you. "It's about time you got a boyfriend."

"Mrs. O'Hara, here for your tea?" You ask her, ignoring the comment about your love life. That woman will set you up with anyone. She does love her tea, though, and expects you to provide it on time.

It's slow, but Carmen warms up to you. Instead of grabbing his coffee to go, he now drinks it at the café, coincidentally around the same time you take your break.

He's been hesitantly opening up. It's not like he's telling you about how fucked up his family is or how his brother committed suicide. More often, it's about the restaurant and his work as a chef, the struggles of getting every permit they need on a tight schedule since they are supposed to open in about four weeks now, or the occasional childhood memory. It's everything you need to know at this stage.

You love listening to Carmy talk, even if you have to coax it out of him sometimes. He's passionate about the restaurant despite all the stress that comes from it, and he adores the people he works with. He's shy but not in a dorky way because he's actually fascinating. Before meeting him, you never knew that collecting denim was a thing.

The smell of cigarettes that clings to him is also tightly laced with his character. When you step outside to get some sun and the scent of someone smoking hits you, your heart instantly speeds up, hoping it's him coming for his daily americano, or to come swoop you away into a sunset.

"-I fell on my ass in the middle of the street. I was freaking out, thinking I was gonna get run over by a car," you exclaim as you tell Carmy about the crazy Christmas you spent in New York last year.

"It's New York. You probably would have been run over," Carmy chuckles along with you. "There was this one time I was running late and-" His phone vibrating interrupts him.

"Sorry, it's just the fridge guy," he tells you with a furrow of his eyebrows. You notice he does that a lot when he's thinking deeply. Carmy silences it and looks back over to you.

"You should pick that up. A busted fridge is the last thing you need. Trust me. Been there, done that." You encourage him to take the call. The restaurant is more important than your story about how you bruised your coccyx in New York.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Carm! Call him back before you forget," you insist, grabbing his empty cup to trash it. You don't give him any other option, leaving him there to help your employees with a faulty machine.

He watches you closely, closer than ever before. He allows himself to watch how you frown at the machine and how your ringed fingers fumble with the knobs. His eyes keep trailing down involuntarily, and they take in how nicely your jeans hug your ass.

He goes into a spiral into these old pair of Levi jeans popular in the 90s and how they would fit nicely with the shape of your hips and legs. Carmy continues on the tangent, imagining himself peeling them off your body.

The phone vibrating in his hand snaps him out of it. Clearing his throat, he picks up the phone and walks outside. He waves at you through the window as he makes his way back to The Bear. Your frustration at the machine vanishes momentarily as you wave back, except the machine splatters, forcing you to redirect your attention. When you look outside again, he's gone.

Stakes are high at The Bear. There's less than four weeks until Friends and Family, and there is much to do. Marcus has returned from Copenhagen and is working on the desserts. Tina is doing her job as the new sous chef. Fak and Sweeps are helping out wherever they can. And Richie is being Richie, trying to be open but resisting change.

"I need coffee or a pop. Anything with caffeine," Sydney says, throwing her head back. She and Carmen have been working on the chaos menu for hours, and she keeps messing up. Carmy insists that it's okay that they'll adjust and get it right soon, but she's beginning to lose hope.

"Me too. I'd kill for an espresso," Natalie agrees, softly rubbing her hand over her growing bump.

"I thought you couldn't have caffeine cause of the baby," Richie mentions, remembering Tiff's time while pregnant.

"I don't need you to fuckin' tell me what I can or can't eat, Richie," Natalie yells, glaring at him. Although he's right, the doctor told her to limit her caffeine intake. Hard to do when she's up all night thinking about everything she needs to do for The Bear.

"Shit. I'm sorry for fucking caring," Richie screams back, lifting his hands up in defense.

"I can go to the coffee place down the block. Get everyone something," Carmy pipes up, looking forward to seeing you today.

Natalie is quick to shoot that idea down, "You can't. The fridge guy is coming in 20 minutes."

"Fuck, that's right," Carmy groans, digging his head in his hands. His fingers rake through his hair, messing up his curls. He wanted to see you and talk to you, even if it was for five short minutes.

"I'll go," Sydney sighs. She needs to leave the kitchen for more than five minutes, or she'll go crazy, "Just tell me what you guys want to order."

Natalie grumbles about getting decaf, Richie orders a plain black coffee, and Carmy asks for his americano. As Sydney leaves to ask Marcus, Carmy yells after her, "Please, go to Bee Hive. If you get Starbucks, I'm gonna fucking lose it."

Richie and Natalie exchange a look. Richie because he's confused, and Natalie because she knows something is happening with Carmy. He's never been picky over coffee. In fact, they have an old coffee machine in the office that now goes unused because he's always at that coffee shop.

"Sorry, I didn't get the fuckin' memo. Since when is Starbucks bad?" Richie frowns, looking to get a rise out of Carmy.

"I don't think it's about the coffee, cousin," Natalie responds, directing her gaze towards her brother, who is hunched over the counters, chopping vegetables.

"If it's not about the coffee, what is it about?" Richie questions, crossing his arms.

"Shut the fuck up, Sugar," Carmy grumbles, looking at his sister with a glare. He already knows where she's going. She tried to bring it up a couple of days ago after she walked by the coffee shop and saw him being friendly with you.

Natalie smiles and responds, "Carmy has a crush on the barista."

"That's ridiculous. I don't have a crush on her." Carmy shakes his head, avoiding Richie and Natalie's eyes on him. They always do this. They gang up on him if he shows even the slightest interest in a girl. They think they can help, but all they do is embarrass him.

"Come on, Bear. Why else would you go almost every day to get coffee?" Natalie asks, giving him a look.

"Because it's good fuckin' coffee. Jesus, it's not that deep." Carmy grabs the veggies he chopped and drops them into a container to use later.

"It's okay to admit you like a pretty girl, cousin! I'm excited for you! Makes you human and not a lonely hermit," Richie jokes, pushing on Carmy's buttons. "When was the last time you got laid?"

"I swear to God, Richie. Shut the fuck up," Carmy points at him angrily.

"No, I should go with Sydney and see who this girl is!" Richie says, walking out of the half-built kitchen.

Carmy follows him instantly, "You're not going fuckin' anywhere, fuckin' jagoff." He's turning red from anger, seeing Richie with his mocking smile. Natalie follows behind them, amused at the situation. It reminds her of the banters they used to get in with Mickey.

"Admit that you like her," Richie shrugs, giving him a choice.

"No, I won't," Carmy refuses. "You always do this shit."

"Then, I'm going," Richie nods, stepping towards the door.

"Fuck! Shit, alright. I like her, okay? Don't fucking go anywhere," Carmy yells, rubbing a hand on his face out of frustration. It's like he's not allowed to keep anything good to himself.

"Was that so hard?" Richie grins, clapping a hand on Carmy's shoulder.

"Don't fuckin' touch me," Carmy grumbles, walking back to the kitchen. Natalie follows him with a smile, shaking her head at Richie.

Carmy sighs and squeezes his eyes shut. He has yet to admit that he likes you more than he should. He's been avoiding it, afraid of what it might lead to, or rather, what it might not.

He couldn't let Richie go see you. He has a big fuckin' mouth and will tell you Carmy has a crush on you whether it's true or not. Just like that, he feels the sour taste in his mouth, his heartburn making an appearance. Carmy should go look for his pepto before it gets worse.

Unaware of the argument back at The Bear, Sydney walks to Bee Hive. She's walked past many times but has yet to have the time to stop and try it out.

As she waits in line, she reads over the drinks menu. It's clear that it's been carefully curated. Starbucks has nothing on this menu. She can see why Carmy would prefer to come here instead.

When it's her turn to order, Sydney takes out her phone to recite everyone's drink order. She also points to a few pastries, thinking Marcus would like to try some of them and get inspiration. That and she knows Natalie will enjoy them as well.

You're sitting at a table close to the pickup counter. You often find yourself all over the store, ensuring everything goes smoothly. Sometimes, you stop to talk to your regulars and see how they're doing.

You notice Sydney struggling with all the cups she has to carry. It's proving difficult despite the to-go trays your barista put them in. Deciding to approach her, you ask, "Do you need help?"

"Oh, no. I'm fine, thanks," Sydney responds with a nervous smile. She's trying hard to grab everything, including the box with the pastries.

You continue watching her struggle because you know she needs help. You let her try and figure it out for one more minute before stepping in again when she almost drops two of the drinks, "Need some help now?"

"Yeah," Sydney sighs, "I guess I can leave one of the trays here, go to the restaurant, and come back for the rest," she speaks mostly to herself.

"Are you going far?"

"No, just the restaurant down the block," Sydney responds with a sigh, scratching her eyebrow as she tries to figure out the logistics of carrying the drinks. She could get a box to put everything in.

You perk up at her response. The only restaurant down the block is Carmen's. Could she work there? "Carmy's restaurant?"

"You know Carmy?" Sydney asks, tilting her head. Maybe Nat was right. Carmy spends his time here because of the woman in front of her.

"He comes here often. Anyway, I can go with you to help you out. It's not far, and I'd feel bad if your drinks got cold." You offer to help her out because you're a nice person. Not because you want a chance to see the curly-haired man you are developing feelings for.

"You really don't have to…"

"It's really not a problem," you press, grabbing one of the to-go trays and motioning for her to lead the way.

Sydney sighs in defeat and nods, "Thanks. I'm Sydney, by the way."

"I'm Honey," you smile, following her outside.

You chat all the way to the restaurant with Sydney. She reminds you of Carmy in some ways, so you can see why they are friends. Before arriving at the restaurant, Sydney apologizes in advance for any sort of mess there might be, including yelling.

As you near the building under renovation, your palms start to sweat. Maybe you shouldn't have come. You're showing up unannounced, and he's probably too busy to talk to you anyway. You can slip in and out without him noticing. That's the goal now.

You open the door for Sydney, letting her go through first, and quietly follow her into the restaurant. There's no time to escape, as all eyes are instantly on you.

Richie is arguing with Fak when he sees you walk in. He narrows his eyes as Carmy looks in your direction from the kitchen. With just one glance to Carmy's face, he knows who you're supposed to be.

"Guess I didn't have to go anywhere. She came to me," Richie whispers, rushing out the door.

"Shut the fuck up. Where are you going? Don't embarrass me!" Carmy whispers out to Richie unsuccessfully.

"Oh, you'll do that all by yourself," Richie throws over his shoulder.

"Honey, hey, what-what're you doing here?" Carmy speaks, not giving Richie a chance to open his big mouth. He stands between you and Richie, blocking him for the time being.

"Sydney needed help with the drinks," you answer nervously, averting your eyes.

"Oh, thanks for that. You didn't have to," Carmy approaches you and takes the drinks from your hands. His fingers brush with yours momentarily, causing you both to blush.

"I did, or else you probably wouldn't have anything to drink," you whisper to him.

Sydney, Fak, and Richie all watch the interaction amusedly. Richie has a big teasing grin on his face as he makes a plan in his head.

"Hi, I'm Richie! Carmy's cousin," he introduces himself, shoving Carmy to the side and shaking your hand enthusiastically. "I gotta say Carmen right here is obsessed with your coffee. He's banned us from getting Starbucks."

Carmy curses under his breath as Richie does precisely what he tells him not to. He has the urge to throw the coffee at him and run away.

"Is that right?" You ask, amused, looking over at Carmy with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh yeah," Richie answers for him as Carmy tries to find the right words to say. "Cousin, why don't you give the nice lady a tour of the place?"

"It's not done yet. Could be dangerous," Carmy hopelessly says with a gulp.

"Nonsense! You'll take care of her!" Richie insists. He takes the coffee from Carmy's hands and pushes him in your direction. "Go give her a tour."

Richie, Sydney, and Fak all disappear to the office to stay out of the way and try to snoop simultaneously. Fak sends Carmy a not-so-discreet thumbs-up that makes you giggle.

He's internally screaming at his so-called friends but is glad to see you. It was all he wanted before Sydney left to get their drinks. It's strange having you here at The Bear, though. He's so used to seeing you in your own space back at Bee Hive.

Trying to make things better, you say, "Sorry you've been roped into this. You probably have better things to do. I can go-"

Carmy doesn't let you finish. "No, stay. I want to show you around."

"Let's see what you got then, Berzatto," you grin, following him to the kitchen.

Carmy takes his time showing you The Bear. He wants you to stay. He wants to spend time with you but doesn't really know how to say it. So he takes it slow, answers your questions about the restaurant, shows you the front and how everything will be laid out, and introduces you to the ones around, including the fridge guy working on the handle.

Sadly, you get a call from Bee Hive asking you to come back. Carmy walks you outside, dreading having to say goodbye.

"I'm really excited for The Bear to open. You have a great place and team," you tell Carmy.

"I really got lucky with them, huh?" He asks, playing with a dish towel.

"I gotta go. I'll see you later, Berzatto." You don't know where you got the guts to lean towards him and kiss his cheek.

Carmy stays still as his face heats up. You start walking away and throw him a smile over your shoulder. When you're a distance away, he touches the cheek you kissed. Back inside, Richie runs over to Sugar to tell her what he just witnessed.

It's late when Carmy leaves The Bear. As he walks to the train station, he has his hands stuffed in his jacket pocket. On his way, he sees a lone light turned on in your café. Crossing the street to check it out, he sees you're still there with glasses perched on your nose in front of the computer.

He tries the door, and to his luck, it's open. You look in his direction, startled, but relax once you see it's him.

"Nice glasses," Carmy teases, pulling out a chair to sit.

"Are you making fun of me?" You purse your lips, propping your chin on your palm.

"No, I…I think you look cute with them," Carmy admits. After a stern talk from Sugar and Richie, he's realized he should probably make a proper move on you because if what they say is true, you also have a crush on him.

"Thanks," you blush, the light from your screen making it obvious to Carmy, who can't stop the corners of his lips from turning up into a smile.

"Late night?"

"One of my baristas is moving out of state. I have to find someone new, preferably who has experience," you say with a sigh. Glancing at him, you add, "Are you perhaps interested in the position?"

"Poaching me from my own restaurant, nice. I'll let you know I'm an excellent worker," Carmy jokes, tapping his fingers on the table.

There's no doubt in your mind he's an excellent worker. He has to be if he's considered one of the best up-and-coming chefs. Or to work in one of the best restaurants in the world with three Michelin stars.

"I don't know. I'll need references," you speak as if not believing him.

Carmy smiles and softly chuckles, "Fair enough."

There's a moment of silence between the two of you that Carmy is quick to fill, "So, uh, have you had dinner yet by chance?" This is it.

You shake your head no and look at him with hopeful eyes.

"Wanna go grab pizza? I know a place," he asks, finding your gaze on him.

"Say no more," you say, closing your laptop and taking off your glasses. "I'm starving."

Carmy waits for you to lock Bee Hive and grab your things. Then, you both walk to the pizza place. To pass the time, you and Carmy talk about your days and anything that comes to mind. Nothing serious as you get to know each other.

Waiting in line to order the pizza, you tell him all about your nickname and how you were donned 'Honey' to everyone who knows you. In return, he tells you about his nickname 'Bear' and why his restaurant is named as such. For the first time, he dares mention Mickey.

"Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy says, taking a slice of the pie and placing it on your plate.

"I'll see about that," you murmur. You wait until he has a slice of his own and dig in simultaneously.

"It's good, but this is not the best pizza place in Chicago," you say after chewing the first bite, "I'm gonna get your chef license revoked."

"Are you? With what proof? Have you tried all the pizza places to know?"

"I don't have to because I've tried the best," you hum, taking another bite. The cheese stretches as you pull it away.

"Oh yeah? Which one?" Carmy questions you, taking a drink of his beer.

"Mine. The pizza I make is the best," you shrug modestly.

"Wait. You cook?" Carmy asks, giving you a look of surprise.

Cooking is a universal thing. Most people know how to cook up to a degree, yet only some are as confident in their skills as you are. You know you're definitely not up to Carmy's level, but if there is something you know how to do properly, it's pizza.

"Yeah! You're not the only good cook here, Berzatto," you sass back at him, dipping the pizza crust in the marinara sauce.

"Sorry for assuming," he raises his palms.

"You're forgiven," you chirp.

"When will I try this famous pizza of yours then?" Carmy wonders. An attempt to see if you'd like to see more of him.

"I promise I'll make it for you once you open The Bear. You're too stressed to fully enjoy it now," you respond. You were reaching out. Throwing hints that you want this to continue in the foreseeable future.

The conversation continues to flow with an empty pizza box in front of you. Customers come and go until it's only the two of you and a drunk customer picking up his pizza.

"Tell me about your tattoos. Were they an act of rebellion or something else?"

It's an excuse to touch his hands. You reach for them, turning them to see the black ink on his hands and fingers. You gently trace over them with the pads of your fingers. Over the hand that's stabbed, the letters S.O.U. on his knuckles and the forget-me-nots. The one you're dying to touch, though, is the one on his bicep; you'd give anything to feel the hard muscle underneath the rolled-up sleeves of his white t-shirt.

"Uh, my first tattoo is the 773. Got it when I left Chicago for the first time. After that, I sort of became addicted to them. I found they helped my anxiety when it was becoming too much. The pain distracted me and made me feel stronger than I actually was," he says, letting you touch him. He finds that he likes it. Your touch is soft and warm. Comforting.

"So what you're trying to say is you're a masochist," you say, bouncing your eyebrows at him. Your touch goes further up his arm to turn it and look at the fish tattoo on his forearm.

"I guess so," Carmy responds with a breathy laugh, "Do you have any tattoos?"

"Maybe…" You shrug as the pads of your fingers trail back down to his palm until you pull them back towards you. Carmy instantly misses the feeling, opting to cross his arms to retain the warmth you left behind.

"It's bad, isn't it?" He says knowingly. Your reaction told him everything he needed to know.

"The worst," you grimace, shaking your head at the memory of you getting it.

"So, rebellion or something else?"

"Rebellion. For all the wrong reasons," you groan, burying your face in your hands, "Growing up, everyone saw me as a good girl because that's what I was. Breaking the rules terrified me. So, as a teenager, I didn't want to be seen as a goody two shoes, so the summer before I went to college, I decided that getting a tattoo would make me a badass."

"Did it work?"

"God, no. I only got the outline done 'cause it hurt like a bitch. Then I went crying to my parents, fully having a meltdown, apologizing for disappointing them," You scrunch your nose as you say the following words, "They laughed in my face, called me a wimp, and told me to suck it up."

Carmy fully laughs at your story. Head thrown back, eyes closing, "What did you get?"

"That's a secret, Berzatto," you purse your lips, avoiding responding. You just know he'll make fun of you for it.

Everyone who has seen your tattoo has made fun of you for it, yourself included. It's so silly and not badass. Carmy will have to wait to see your tattoo, and you hope this continues so he can see it up close.

"Really? That bad?" Carmy stares wide-eyed.

"It's terrible," you nod, leaning on the table. "We should probably get going before the waitress throws a fit."

Carmy looks over his shoulder to see the waitress glaring at them. It's five minutes till close, and they've made no move to go. He turns back to you and nods towards the door. Carmy helps you with your jacket and leaves a tip on the jar for the waitress. At that, she happily calls after them with a 'Good night!'

"Do you live far?" Carmy asks, seeing how dark it is now that most places have closed. There are too many lamp posts that aren't working. He'd feel better if he could walk you home or you called an Uber. Preferably the former.

"Only a couple of blocks away. Why?"

"It's late. Let me walk you home," Carmy says decidedly, not giving you much of a choice.

"Thanks," you respond with a small smile.

The pace you set is slow. You don't want your time with Carmy to end just yet. He's such an interesting and sweet guy. He's a little awkward, but it adds to his charm, and you can see he's trying.

Somewhere along the way, his hand brushes against yours briefly. Then, it happens again, and you decide to bite the bullet. You grasp his hand in yours.

"Is this okay?" You ask when he falls silent.

Carmy doesn't have a lot of experience with girls. He can't even remember the last time he held a girl's hand. All he knows is he doesn't remember ever feeling this good. "Yes, uh, this is okay."

Carmy walks you up to your front door when you reach your house. You unlock the door but stay outside face-to-face with Carmy.

"Thanks for the pizza," you say, fiddling with your fingers. You were about to make one more move for the night. Because as long as Carmy allows you, you'll keep pushing for more.

"Sorry, it wasn't the best," he retorts, rubbing his jaw with his hand. You notice he does that a lot when nervous.

"Your company made up for it," you reassure him, "g'night Carmy." You kiss his cheek goodbye, watching as his cheeks blush.

"Night," he whispers.

As you turn to leave, Carmy stops you by grabbing your wrist, "Wait-uh, can I? Uh-shit. Fuck it." For a second, Carmy shuts out the excessive thoughts in his head and does what he's been dying to do for weeks.

Carmy cups your jaw and kisses you. It's soft and slow. He gives you enough leeway to pull away if it's something you don't want, but you reciprocate eagerly. You've been waiting for this all night.

As confidence surges through his body, Carmy throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You wrap your arms around him, one of your hands resting on his neck, tangling on his curls. The tug of your fingers feels like heaven.

The kiss turns needy and desperate, your lips moving perfectly in sync. His tongue brushes over your lip; Carmy has been dying to test a theory. Are you as sweet as your name?

He's rewarded by a little noise in the back of your throat as he slips his tongue into your mouth. It's endearing, and he finds a way to make you do it again. With heads tilting to deepen the kiss, he concludes he was right. You're pure honey. Sweet and addicting.

When Carmy returns to his apartment, he gets the urge to create, to cook. He wants to bring your taste to life with his cooking. Something with honey.

"I was wondering if you'd want to come to the restaurant for Family and Friends."

You and Carmy are in your little office at Bee Hive. He stands between your legs as you sit on the desk. His lips are slightly red and swollen, and the hair at the nape of his neck is messier than usual.

"Hm, I could be persuaded," you pretend to think as you play with the golden chain around his neck, pulling him towards you.

"Yeah?" Carmy laughs, leaning to brush his lips against yours. When he feels you nod, he closes the small gap between the two of you.

His hands hold your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. He tastes like coffee, which is to be expected from the discarded cup beside you. It's funny how your relationship, if it could be called that, has moved all around Bee Hive from the register to the front and now to your office.

You're at a weird spot where you're not exactly friends because friends don't kiss, but you're not a couple either. It's a situationship for sure. You're content with what you have now, although you'd also love it if Carmy were to ask you to be more. You pin it on him being shy. He'll get around to it.

"What do you say?" Carmy questions as he kisses a trail from your cheek to your jaw.

"Consider me in," you giggle when he kisses a tickly spot.

Carmy brushes a strand of hair out of your face, remaining close to you. This is what he needs. After months of stress and anxiety of having to deal with The Beef, now The Bear, he needed you and your calming presence. Someone removed from the chaos, a safe haven.

He's quiet as his thoughts consume him, and you take the intimate position to fix his gold chain. Turning it so the clasp faces the back instead of the front. "I'm excited, Carmy," you say with a smile, brushing his cheek with your thumb.

"You can bring someone with you," Carmy offers nervously because he realizes he probably won't have the time to spend much time with you. "I-I don't think I'll be around much. I'm sorry. I'd understand if that makes you change your mind," Carmy drops his head as he braces himself for disappointment.

As the weeks pass, you learn more about Carmy and his insecurities. It doesn't deter you from wanting to be with him. Everyone has their issues. "Berzatto, stop. Look at me," you softly divert his attention, "I'd love to go and support you even if it's from the sidelines."

"You sure?" He asks once more.

If reassurance is what he needs, that's what you'll give. "Don't worry about me. This is your moment, Carmy. Enjoy it. I'll be around afterward."

"Thank you for understanding," Carmy responds, stealing one more kiss from you.

When he returns to The Bear, he helps Sydney prep the dishes they finally chose to serve. He notes how everything is laid out and anything they should fix before opening.

Richie struts into the kitchen with a suit on. Apparently, it's his thing now. Carmy figures staging at Chef Terry's restaurant had a good impact on him. All Carmy wanted was to show Richie he had what it takes. That he's not a fuck up.

"Glad to see things are going well with Honey," Richie thunders.

"What are you talking about?" Carmy says in a rush as he plates the lamb expertly.

"That thing on your neck," Richie says, motioning to his own neck. He has a smug look on his face.

"I don't have time for this, cousin," Carmy grumbles, wiping the plate where the sauce might've splattered.

Groaning, Richie grabs one of the new pans and holds it in front of Carmy. "I don't see anything," he frowns, looking at Richie for an explanation.

"Right here," Richie points towards the edge of his t-shirt around his neck.

Carmy pulls it back and finally spots what Richie has been referring to. There is a fading purple bruise on his skin, a hickey. You must've done it when he was back in your office. He'd been too busy touching you to notice.

Sydney, silently watching, pipes up, "No wonder he hasn't been as on edge lately." Carmy shoots her a glare, which causes her to shrug and laugh with a, "What? It's true."

"Ay, yo, Sugar, get in here!" Richie yells down the hall to the office.

"What is it?" Natalie barges in, afraid something went to shit.

Carmy ignores Richie as he babbles to Natalie what he found. His face is red, though, as Sydney nudges his side.

"That's enough about me. We have shit to do," Carmy shouts in his chef's voice.

Everyone in the kitchen, including Richie and Natalie, repeats, "Yes, chef!"

Walking out of the kitchen Richie, 'whispers' to Natalie, "I've always wondered if he likes to be called chef in bed."

"Fuck off, Richie," Natalie glares, but then it falls, and it's replaced with a teasing grin, "He definitely does."

"I heard that! Don't you two have better things to do?" Carmy screams at them.

"Yes, chef!"

Carmy keeps hearing Cicero's 'Uh-oh' throughout the whole day. He understands Cicero, he really does, but to call you a distraction?

His work with The Bear is only starting. They managed to make it to Friends and Family. Now, they have to keep up their best work to fill up the restaurant daily and have a waiting list. His work is far from done. He should listen to Cicero.

Cicero said it with the best of intentions. He doesn't want the Berzatto siblings to fail. He wants to believe they'll succeed and, most importantly, get him his money.

If there is something Cicero has learned throughout the years, it is that girls are distractions. They mean well, but oftentimes, they keep your eyes off the ball. Especially when it's a new relationship like Carmy's. Ultimately, it's up to Carmy to decide what he wants to do. Cicero has played his part by giving him his advice.

One last delivery is made to the restaurant an hour before opening. Richie is the one to receive it and place it in front of Carmy. "She's a keeper, Cousin," he says with a pointed look and a nod. He also wants the best for Carmy, and yet it doesn't align with Cicero.

You knew Carmy would be too stressed and all over the place to eat or drink, so you sent everyone at The Bear a drink and a pastry. One of the cups has Carmen's name with a little heart and 'good luck' written on it.

"Yeah, she is," Carmy sighs, turning the cup in his hands to look at the message. His thumb brushes over your handwriting longingly. Is listening to Cicero the wise thing to do? He's one of the most successful men he knows in his family.

When it's 10 minutes till open, Carmy changes into his uniform and looks in the mirror. His heart is racing, begging for Friends and Family not to be a complete failure. Walking out of the bathroom, Carmy is a man on a mission.

It starts relatively well, but like everything in Carmy's life, the kitchen starts welcoming in the chaos.

They are too slow getting the orders out, which causes Sydney to start doubting herself and asking Carmy to step in. He reassures her she's doing good. They just have to keep up the pace.

Then, one of the new chefs disappears mid-rush. Forcing Tina to work two stations and Marcus to step out of his to help Sydney. Carmy ignores some weird tension between them as he works on ensuring the dishes are good to go.

Next thing he knows, Sugar is rushing into the kitchen, yelling at him about forks. It's wasted time, as he can't do anything about it. A shrill reverberates inside his head as he looks at the ticking clock. It's enough to give him a headache.

With no one to take a dish to its table, Carmy takes it upon himself to do it. There's no time to re-fire or wait for someone. He places it on their table and pours the tea into their cups before retreating with an 'enjoy.'

He looks at his restaurant, and suddenly, the ringing in his head gets louder. Sitting in a booth is his old boss, staring back at him like he did back in New York. Like he was waiting for Carmy to fail.

His voice echoes in Carmy's head. Why are you so fuckin' slow. Hurry up. Go faster motherfucker. Talentless piece of shit.

Right before Carmy spirals, it all goes away. His focus shifts entirely as he sees you taking your seat for the night. The one he chose because he'd be able to see you from the kitchen. You have successfully blocked the mirage he'd conjured up.

You're there with your brother as Richie talks you up, thanking you for coming. As if sensing him, your eyes lock with Carmys. Shyly, you send him a wave, which he returns, thanking you in his head for getting there at the perfect time.

Carmy ducks back to the kitchen with newfound energy. Richie enters shortly after him.

"Chef, your girl is here."

"Thanks, Chef, um, do you have the notepad?" Carmy asks as he continues cleaning dishes and making sure each one is up to par.

"Here you go."

Taking the notepad from Richie, he begins scribbling. I love- No, too fuckin' soon. Thank you for- Nope, it's too stale.

I'm happy you're here, Honey. Wait for me after you're done? -Bear

"Here," Carmy hands it to him without even looking at Richie.

"Keep up the good work, Chefs," Richie yells out to the room before disappearing to the front of the house. The door swinging shut behind him.

"Yes, Chef!"

Something isn't working in the kitchen. They're too backed up, and no matter how hard they try, they're always a tad too slow. Through Sydney surrounding the wheel to Richie, Carmy steals glances out the kitchen window. You're smiling at whatever your brother says, your lips sipping the wine he chose. Carmy can get through this night because, in the end, you'll be waiting for him.

"There he is," you sing as you spot Carmy walking out of the kitchen. The chef's whites back in his locker as he sports his white t-shirt, jeans, and jacket.

Fak, who kept you company while Carmy finished up, speaks up next, "My brother, I'm gonna grab a sandwich and head home. Honey, it was a pleasure meeting you."

"You too, Neil!"

"Thanks for everything," Carmy tells him, giving him a hug and a pat like dudes do.

Carmy turns and grabs your hand to pull you close and kiss your cheek. "What did you think?"

"It was the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," you tell him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

There's a reason Carmy has had so many accolades despite his young age. He has a gift in the kitchen. The moment his food touched your taste buds, your life changed. He and Sydney outdid themselves, and the way everything flowed showed how much work they put into the restaurant.

"You're exaggerating," Carmy modestly says, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"I'm really not," you shake your head, pursing your lips. Carmy can't resist placing a small peck on your red-painted lips.

"What about your famous pizza?"

"No, it might be the best pizza in Chicago, but whatever I ate today topped it," you smile at him, scrunching your nose. "Consider your chef's license reinstated,"

"Thanks," Carmy laughs breathily, "Do you mind if we walk? I feel some of the rush still."

"Lead the way, Mr. Berzatto."

Carmy grabs your hand, leading you to the streets of Chicago. It's silent momentarily as the wind cools Carmy's heated face. He places his hand along with yours into his pocket.

"Did your brother like it?" He asks, breaking the ice.

"Oh yeah. I'm officially like the best sister ever," you respond, squeezing his hand.

You had accidentally forgotten that your brother had passed the Bar exam. So, you didn't have time to get him anything in celebration. You figured dinner at a lovely new restaurant would help while you got him a proper present.

"How did you feel throughout, though? It looked intense." You often found yourself looking through the small glass window into the kitchen. They were always on the move, looking for the next thing to do.

"It didn't just look like it. I'm used to it, though," Carmy admits with a sniff. Everyone's best and worst habits shone through for those couple of hours. It's an environment he's all too familiar with, in and out of the kitchen.

"That rough," you grimace.

"It's fine. We have a lot to work on, but it's a start, and it wasn't entirely terrible," Carmy says, thinking back on tonight. Before coming out to meet you, he wrote down a couple of things to go through with Sugar and Sydney.

"Good, 'cause I hope The Bear sticks around the block," you say, bumping your shoulder with his.

You invite Carmy into your house when you arrive. He takes up your offer, holding your hand to help you balance as you take your heels off. It reminds Carmy he forgot to mention how beautiful you looked today.

He follows you to the kitchen, watching your hips sway and your dress skirt swishing. Padding to the wine fridge, you pick out a bottle of red to celebrate.

Carmy indulges in looking at your legs as you stretch up to reach for the glasses of wine up in your cabinets. His blue eyes darken as your dress hikes up, exposing your pretty thighs.

His gaze darts back up at you when you turn around to place the glasses on the kitchen counter. You hand him the wine opener so he can do the honors because you suck at taking the cork out. It's why you mainly stick to cheaper wines with twist-off caps.

"Here is to The Bear and its amazing owner," you say, lifting your glass in front of you.

"Here's to not fuckin' it up entirely," Carmy follows, making you giggle. Your wine glasses clink, and you take a drink.

Placing the glass back down, Carmy pins you against the counter, his strong hands resting on the edge of it. You look at him through your lashes, a hand coming up to his chest to feel the steady thumping of his heart.

"You look beautiful. I like the dress," Carmy murmurs. It's better late than never.

The dress you wear is a pretty shade of light blue. Simple yet dressy. The neckline gives him a good view of your cleavage and has long sleeves to compensate for the shorter length. They currently cover the goosebumps lining your skin.

"Yeah? I picked it out thinking you might," you reveal, biting your lip. The shade reminded you of his eyes.

"You were right," he whispers, cupping your jaw. As pretty as the dress is, he's sure it'll look so much better on the floor.

Carmy closes his eyes as he leans down to kiss you. He's always struggled with words, so he hopes it's enough for you to catch what he's trying to say.

You smile into the kiss, blindly leaving your glass to the side to be able to touch him. Your palm presses against his chest and taut abdomen. He hides a nice amount of muscle under his t-shirts, a pleasant surprise.

Carmy easily lifts you up to sit down on the kitchen island. He steps between your legs, never breaking the heated kiss. The hands on your waist trail down to your thighs and under your dress. Carmy's tattooed hands squeeze your ass and thighs, earning him a moan from you.

This is the farthest you've ever gotten, and you're more than ready to have all of him. Carmy knows this, which leads to his thoughts getting out of control.

He has to make a decision now. Does he allow himself to be with you, or does he remain by himself like always? Richie's, Sugar's, Cicero's, and Sydney's voices all shout at him different things. Some are in favor, and others are in opposition. 'Uh oh.'

He can't lead you on and sleep with you if he will back out tomorrow. The voices become deafening in an instant, ripping him away from your embrace. His emotions bubbled over and spilled all over the place.

"Wait, stop, I just-" Carmy breathes heavily, taking a couple of steps back from you. Carmy's hand comes up to his forehead as he attempts to organize his thoughts.

"What's wrong?" You ask worriedly. Did you do something wrong?

Carmen's thoughts spill out his mouth without making much sense as he paces in your kitchen. "I can't stop thinking about it and owe it to my team..."

"Carm?" You slide off the kitchen counter, approaching him slowly.

"-keeps saying it's a distraction," he rambles mostly to himself. His heart is pounding painfully in his chest. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he was having a heart attack.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's a distraction?" Softly, you grab onto his arms, stopping him in his tracks, trying to find his lost gaze.

"You. Whatever this is," Carmy breathes, finally meeting your eyes, which he instantly regrets as your eyes turn sad.

The watering of your eyes is unintentional, as is the knot forming in your throat. "You think I'm distracting you?" You question barely above a whisper.

His response is instant, "Fuck, no, the opposite. W-When I'm with you or-or think about you, things get clearer, and it's-it's when I feel the most focused." Carmy holds your shoulders, comforting you because he never meant to hurt you. He can't stand the sad look in your eyes.

Slowly, you begin to piece together his rambling and conclude that other people have been telling him you're a distraction. You wonder if they don't want him to be happy. The Bear is the center of Carmy's life, and before that, it was the restaurant in New York. He deserves more than this crazy job.

"Then fuck what others tell you, Carmen. You deserve to have a life outside The Bear." Maybe you're selfish because you don't want to lose him, but you hope he believes your words.

"I-I don't. I don't deserve all your attention or your affection. I'm nothing special. I don't deserve you." Carmy says, shaking his head with furrowed brows.

Weeks ago, he had no source of enjoyment. He said it himself at the support group. Now, he has you, yet he can't bear the thought of you wanting to be with him. He feels like he's tricking you into a bad deal. That's what he is, though, isn't he? An overachieving fuck up with tons upon tons of baggage.

Carmen Berzatto is an anxious person with too many problems in his life. He has a fucked up family. His mother is a mentally unstable alcoholic. His brother was addicted to painkillers and decided that shooting himself on a bridge was better than living this life. That's without mentioning all the trauma he has from his job and the terrible people he's worked with.

What good does he have to offer you?

"Yes, you do," you reassure him, placing your hands on his cheeks. The cool metal of your rings soothes him somewhat, grounding him. "You deserve all that and more, Carmy. You're so sweet and kind and hard-working. You've been through shit. You deserve something good in life. Maybe it's me, or maybe it's not, but don't close yourself off."

You're begging at this point. Whatever this relationship is, it's just starting. He's not giving himself a chance. You like Carmy so damn much. He's funny without knowing it and thoughtful, too. There are so many qualities he doesn't realize he has.

His eyes watch you as tears line them. He's silently pleading for you to convince him. To get him out of his own head and forget the expectations others have on him.

"I'm not going to force you into anything, Carm. It's your call, but I've enjoyed our last couple of months together. I know we don't know each other completely, but I want to know everything about you. I have feelings for you, so whatever you decide, I'll support it."

Being honest is all you can do at this point. You pour your heart out and hope Carmy chooses you.

You and Carmy stand in the middle of your kitchen. Face to face, reaching out towards each other. It's clear as day that you want the same thing. It's only a matter of taking the right steps now.

"I can't let you go," Carmy responds, grabbing the hand on his cheek. His thumb brushes over the back of it.

"Then don't."

Carmy's decision is made. Without another thought, he smashes his lips against yours. He grabs the back of your neck, tilting your head to meet his heated kiss.

It's more intense now that the cards are on the table. Nothing to hold him back.

Tongues clash together as your bodies seek each other out. The temperature rises when Carmy lifts you up to wrap your legs around his hips. His hands are on the back of your thighs, holding tight onto you.

"Bedroom?" He asks, breaking the kiss, a trail of saliva between the two of you.

"Down the hallway," you breathe heavily, kissing down his neck.

Carmy makes it to the bedroom, opening the door with a bang. He spots your bed, placing you in the middle with him holding himself up on top of you.

He watches as your back meets the bed and your fair fans around you like a halo. The curvature of your breasts accentuated even more from the position.

Carmy hikes your leg further up his hips as he dips down to kiss a wet trail down to the neckline of your dress. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on the rounded flesh, nipping at the skin playfully when you arch your back to push more into him.

"Carmy," you breathe, cupping his jaw to pull him back to your lips. Grinding your hips, you manage to graze against his bulge.

"Shit," Carmy shakily curses, thrusting his hips to meet your touch once more.

Curiously, your hands wander across his body. Carmy's moans in your ear make your panties wetter than they already are.

You grasp the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off. You're desperate to have him, your cunt aches for him. Your nails scratch down his firm stomach when he bites into your earlobe, softly calling your name.

"Unzip me," you pant, pushing him away and pulling your hair off to the side.

Carmy grabs the small zipper, pushing it down and exposing your pretty skin. As he slides the fabric off of you, he kisses your shoulders and back, taking note of the goosebumps on your skin.

His mind is in the present, and nothing can take it away from him. It's like a switch he managed to turn off in his brain. No more family drama, no more The Bear. It's just you...and him. Honey and Bear.

You stretch your neck to the side, giving Carmy more space to pepper kisses across the delicate skin. The dress pooling at your feet exposes your chest, and Carmy's hands come up from behind you. His fingers shyly brush up your stomach, tickling you, until they find your breasts.

He draws a moan from you as he squeezes them in his palms, pushing you back to meet his chest; turning your head to the side, you find his lips.

The kiss breaks when he slides one of his hands into your underwear, dipping his finger to feel your wetness. Your arm reaches back to dig your fist in his curls.

"You're soaked, Honey," he moans, finding your clit to tease it.

"Been waiting for so long, Carmy," you whine as your hips stutter along with the flicks of his wrist.

"I'm sorry. I'm here now," he purrs into your ear.

Carmy can hear the distinct 'shlick, shlick, shlick' of his fingers against your clit. It spurs him on as he slips a finger into you. He can't wait to have his cock inside of you, snug and warm.

"Oh my god, Carmen," you gasp when he prods another finger into your entrance. Hanging onto his arm across your chest, you roll your hips against his fingers.

"I got you," he says, digging his fingers deeper into you and curling them.

Your knees buckle as the tips of his fingers curl and hit your g spot repeatedly. If it weren't for him, you'd be on the floor. With your tummy tensing under the weight of the pleasure, you stutter out, "I'm gonna cum."

Carmy's hand is wet from your juices as he ups the ante. Just as your walls begin to squeeze around his fingers, he pulls them out to circle around your clit.

"Oh, f-fuck!" You squeal, throwing your head back onto his shoulder.

The way your clit softly twitches under the pads of his fingers fucks with Carmy. It makes his cock throb and leak into his jeans.

Untangling from his embrace, you place a breathless kiss on Carmy's lips. His slick digits dig into your hips as he prolongs it.

Blindly, you find the edge of his jeans and unbutton them. If Carmy notices, he doesn't say anything. You want to give him one more reason to stay with you.

He moans into your mouth when you grasp his length through his boxers. He's rock hard as he desperately ruts against your hand.

With your hold still on him, you push him to sit on the bed. Carmy looks up at you lustfully. You plant a single short kiss on his lips before kneeling on the floor between his legs. You leave love bites down his chest while looking up at him through your lashes.

Carmy brushes away any hair that falls on your face, his blue eyes focused solely on you. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you pull them down along with his underwear.

His length pops up from its confines, slapping against his tummy. Its tip is a pretty pink shade, with a thick length and a slight curve to it. You salivate instantly at the sight of it.

Carmy's nervous under you. It's been a long since he's been with someone else, and he's never been the most confident.

"Relax," you say teasingly, kissing around his lower tummy to calm him.

Finally, your hand wraps around his cock, lightly pumping it. Leaving sloppy kisses down his happy trail, you feel Carmy's stomach taut in anticipation.

It's been so fuckin' long.

With your eyes staring into his hungry ones, you kiss the pink head that glistens with pre, teasingly brushing it against your lips. Keeping eye contact, you lick his length from base to tip. You alternate between kissing and licking for a minute, enjoying watching Carmy squirm.

"Fuck, Honey," Carmy throws his head back at your torturous pace.

"Look at me," you sweetly say.

Taking mercy on him, you part your lips to take his length into your warm, wet mouth, bobbing your head to a steady rhythm. Prying one of Carmy's hands from the bedsheets, you place it in your hair, encouraging him to use you.

"Good girl," he moans, fisting your hair to force you to take more of his cock. You let your hands rest on his thighs, feeling the strong muscles underneath.

Carmen observes you with hooded eyes as you hollow your cheeks, sucking him expertly. He's obsessed with how your lips leave behind a tinge of red lipstick on his skin.

"Shit-Fuck me," he yells into the room when you swallow around him.

You want him to cum, but Carmy has other plans. He doesn't think he'll last long if you make him cum now, so after the stunt you pulled, he pulls you off his sensitive cock.

The sight in front of him is erotic as a string of saliva connects you to his cock. The tears lining your eyes and blushed nose add to that pretty picture.

"c'me 'ere," he says, helping you up and kissing you as he leads you back to the bed. He tugs off your wet panties, throwing them somewhere in the room.

You lay back on your pillows with Carmy slotted between your legs. It's torture having him so close and yet so far. Now that you've gotten a taste of his cock you need more.

Carmy touches the inside of your thighs, inching his way closer to your cunt. He instantly notices how fuckin' wet you are. You're dripping even more than before.

"Sucking me off, got you this wet, princess?" He asks, leaning his forehead against yours.

"Mhm, Carmy, wish you would've cum in my mouth," you admit, tilting your head up to brush your lips against his.

"You have such a dirty fuckin' mouth," he chuckles darkly.

Where did this side of you come from? You're usually so sweet and delicate. He should've known you would be a freak in bed. To think he almost let this all go.

"Carmen, please."

"Please, what?" Carmen teases, lining his cock against your opening, wetting his cock.

"Fuck me," you moan, kissing his jaw.

"'m gonna fuck you good, princess," he promises, with a shaky nod before he remembers, "Fuck! I-I don't have a condom with me."

"I should have some in my drawer," you mention breathlessly.

Carmy opens the condom in record time but is surprised when you take it from his hands and roll it down his shaft yourself. You just want an excuse to keep touching him.

With your leg hiked up, he aligns himself and slowly pushes in. You both gasp at the sensation. Carmy, for one, is trying to not bust a nut so soon because you're so tight and warm.

Meanwhile, you hold onto Carmy's back as he stretches you out. It's been so long, and your toys aren't nearly as thick as him. You breathily moan in his ear, which he takes as a good sign as he begins thrusting more forcefully and deeper.

Carmy hopes this isn't a dream, and if it is, he hopes he doesn't wake up anytime soon. He has one hand holding onto your thigh and the other holding himself up. His gold chain dangles above you as he picks his head up from its spot on your shoulder. You take the chance to tug on it, returning his attention to your lips.

"You feel so fuckin' good, princess," Carmy groans, squeezing your thigh.

"I love your cock, Carmy," you whine, feeling the drag of his cock on your walls. The pleasure is all-consuming, leaving a fuzzy feeling in your brain.

"You like when I fuck you like this?"

"Yes, yes, yes, keep going."

His hips snap hard against yours, hitting that spot each and every time. His pelvis hitting your clit. He squeezes your thigh, hips, and sides before his hand squeezes your tits, too, playing with your nipples.

Suddenly, he straightens up, pulling you down the bed to have you flushed against his pelvis. He's a sight for sore eyes that forces you to keep your eyes open.

His thrusts are more forceful like this, where he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips to pull you towards him with each snap. It makes your tits bounce, hypnotizing him.

Through your lustful gaze, he looks like a marble statue. His chest glimmers under the lowlights of your room as sweat clings to him, his chain jumping against the blushed skin of his chest, and his fucking hair falling over his pretty eyes. The set of his jaw could've been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself.

Your hands indulgently reach down to touch him in any way you can. You can only reach his stomach, where a nice pair of abs appear due to the effort.

"You like what you see?" Carmy teases. He's entirely lost on you because otherwise, he wouldn't be as cocky to say that.

"You're so handsome," you pitifully say. Your brain not computing as it should, but how can it when it's being fucked out of you?

Carmy doesn't know how to respond. It's not often he's called handsome or looked at as lustfully as you're looking at him. Thankfully, he doesn't need to say much as your eyes roll back and you squeeze your walls around him.

"Carmy, I'm so close," you pant, trying to find any part of him to hold. He offers you his hand, lacing your fingers together.

"Just a little longer, princess," Carmy groans as you clench around him. "Fuck, don't do that to me."

He glances down at the spot where you and him meet to see a ring of white on the base of his cock. He's enthralled with the way you stretch to accommodate him and the way your pink walls drag along his length when he pulls out. Fuckin' beautiful.

Putting all his knowledge to use, he thumbs your clit, making you jolt. He needs you to cum now, or he won't make it. His balls feel like they're about to burst.

"Carmy," you cry out, tightening the hold on his hand.

You teeter on the edge for only a second until you cum, waves of pleasure washing over you. Carmy curses from above you as your tightening walls choke his cock, making him cum too. He stutters his hips a couple more times, riding out his orgasm.

He leans back down again, catching your lips in a small kiss. His body slowly relaxes against yours as his head rests on your neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and perfume.

"That was good," you breathe heavily, rubbing your hands up and down your back. You're just starting to think clearly.

"Fuckin' amazing," he adds.

There's a beat of silence before you both burst out laughing.

A bubble encases you, and it can't be popped as long as you stay in your bedroom. Carmy doesn't want to leave; it's late already, and in a couple of hours, he has to get up and go to The Bear to repeat the process.

For once, he forgets about that and focuses solely on you. He has a couple of hours to spare. Sleep is overrated.

You face each other on the bed, talking in hushed whispers. Your fingers trace the '773' tattoo on his bicep like you've always wanted to do. It tickles Carmy, so he grabs your hand and kisses your palm.

"Now that I'm thinking about it. I didn't see your tattoo," he whispers to prevent disturbing the peace.

Your face warms at his words. You had forgotten about that. He's seen a lot of you in the past couple of hours. What's a bit more of skin?

"You missed my big bad tattoo?" you joke, poking his nose.

"Show me," he says with a lopsided smile.

You make it dramatic, rolling your eyes and giving him a big sigh. Sitting up on the bed, you peel the bed sheets from your body. Carmy props himself up on his elbow in anticipation.

Right there, on your left side and under the curve of your breast is a small outline of Winnie the Pooh's face. Carmy touches it, biting his lip to hold back a laugh. Unsurprisingly, it's precisely what he expected from you.

A few chuckles pass his lips as he pulls you back into his arms.

"Don't laugh. It made sense at the time," you whine, covering yourself back up.

Carmy pulls you to his chest, kissing your temple, "I'm sure it does. Pooh Bear loves his Honey," Just like he does.

"Exactly! Someone gets it!"

And he does because Carmy, aka The Bear, is quickly falling for his Honey.

A couple of days later, Carmy is back at your house helping you prepare the famous pizza you promised him. He lets you take the lead on everything, preferring to follow your instructions rather than let his mind run wild. It's not like you'll let him do most of the work anyway; it's your recipe, and you're protective over it.

"Can you chop up the veggies?" You ask him as you lay down the dough in a pan.

"Yes, Chef," he nods, kissing your cheek as he digs through your kitchen drawers for a knife.

"Oh, I like the sound of that," you muse, shaking your shoulders as you knead the dough to spread it.

"Don't let it get to your head, Hun," Carmy smiles, slicing the vegetables expertly.

Cooking with Carmy is surprisingly easier than you thought. He's not controlling over the kitchen or judgy. He lets you do your thing in peace, following your orders no matter how strange they might be. This is your kitchen, not his.

As you spread the sauce and cheese over one of the doughs, Carmy gets a call. He wipes his hands with a rag and picks it up. You only hear his side of the conversation.

"No, I'm off tonight. I'm with my girl. Call Sugar. She should be able to help you with that. Great. Thanks."

Carmy had promised himself that he would try to balance it all better. He has his team to help each other out. The Bear is a priority, but so are you because you help him keep whatever sanity he has left.

Carmy hangs up, and when he returns to you, he notices the grin on your lips as you put the toppings he chopped on the pizza.

"What's with the smile?" Carmy stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he props his head on your shoulder. Your hair tickles his nose, smelling the notes of coconut of your shampoo he digs his head farther into it.

"I'm your girl?" You ask, the smile still present on your face. He'd missed your initial reaction when you heard him call you 'my girl.' You almost dropped the container of pepperoni that was in your hands. It's a shock cause he never asked you to be his girl.

Carmy pauses and tenses up against you. "Uh, yes? Hold up. Turn around," he orders, as he places his hand on your hips to turn your body around.

"Yes, chef," you respond cheekily, your arms around his neck, careful not to touch his sweater with your messy hands.

"Aren't you my girl?" He frowns, rubbing a thumb over your hips.

"I could be, but I don't remember you asking," you pretend to think.

Carmy never directly asked you to be his girlfriend, and you never asked him to be your boyfriend. You might as well be a couple since you've been dating long enough. You decide to seize the opportunity now to get it out of him. Having a proper anniversary day would be nice because you hope this lasts.

"I see, my mistake," Carmy nods, catching your vibe, "Honey…"

"Yes, Carmy?" You blink innocently at him.

"Would you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?" He finally asks.

You could joke around but decided against it cause the moment is perfect, "I'd love to," you nod, giving him a small kiss.

When the pizza is cooked, you bring it over to the dining table. Serving Carmy a pretty slice. Excitedly, you wait for him to bite into it and taste it.

"What do you think?" You ask expectantly.

"You were right. Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy agrees with an unbelievable laugh. He's got a lot to learn from you. It's the truth, or maybe he's blinded by his feelings. Only time will tell where you and Carmy will end up.

The End?

thank you guys for pulling through and reading! i know it's a slow burn but i hope you liked it! i certainly enjoyed writing it even though it took me like 4 months.

if you liked it, i would appreciate you liking it, commenting or reblogging. if you have some feedback feel free to send it my way too. i wanna get better at this whole writing thing!

thank you! bye xx

[rafey-baby]

sweet treat

This picture is making me have thoughts about sexy construction worker!rafe who spends his days lifting heavy stuff and building shit, as he words it when shy!reader inquires about his job since he’s always showing up to the small cafe she works at all sweaty and white shirt dirtied...

hope you enjoy xx

part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

cw: construction worker!rafe being flirty and having some improper thoughts about reader, slightly suggestive

wc: 1k

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Every time the golden bell above the door of the coffee shop dings and Rafe's eyes settle on her soft form the edges of his mouth tilt up; offering her a lazy grin as he asks what baked good she’d recommend for him to try that day. 

His visits have become something she begins to look forward to, him asking about her day with his raspy voice and big biceps bulging as he leans against the counter; always managing to drag a nervous giggle out of her. She feels like a Pavlov’s dog, her brain tingling and mind buzzing like a bee when the clock ticks away and the time he usually walks through the mustard yellow door approaches.  

And he thinks she’s just as sweet as sugar, especially when she smiles at him all bashful, trying to hide the way her eyes round out and her breath gets caught in her throat whenever he leans closer to her, asking what she's doing after this with a slow drawl, lifting his thumb to her cheek and swiping away a smudge of flour dusted over the skin there, lingering for a second too long.  

“Messy girl,” he'd murmur, purposefully trying to make her blush, being mean.  

Slowly but surely, his visits become the best part of her day and she starts to harbor fond, gooey feelings towards the slightly older guy who makes a show of loudly humming in satisfaction when he bites into a raspberry chocolate muffin she’s made, honey dripping from his tongue when he showers her in compliments.  

He seems to be pleased when she diverts her jittery eyes from his intense gaze and tries to busy herself with swiping a rag over a spot on the countertop (for the fourth time already), sneaking glances at him indulging in the confectioneries she's practically forcing him to taste test now; whenever she tries a new recipe, she always wants him to be the first to try it. And he's not complaining.  

And when he finds out she walks home by herself, even after night shifts, there’s no other option for him but to insist driving her home from then on, because he doesn’t like the idea of such a pretty girl walking alone in the dark, doesn’t like it at all.  

She of course denies him immediately, going on about not wanting to bother him and that she’s fine, to which he simply furrows his brows, telling her it actually wouldn’t be a bother at all since he can often work quite late as well, demanding to know what time she gets off that night. And she has no choice but to hesitantly reply, his stern tone almost compelling her to give into his every wish.  

It then becomes a routine for them, him waiting for her to finish up cleaning and her mumbling out a soft thank you when he holds the door of his truck open and she crawls onto the passenger side with his palm on the small of her bag guiding her, just resting there, reassuring. He often refers to her as ‘my passenger princess’, making her melt into a puddle on the seat every single time; trying to hide her flustered face from him, but failing miserably. 

She often feels rather overwhelmed in the small space of his car, a plum tinge heating up her face whenever she feels his eyes on her, catching her staring at his big hands. She's not sure how he's allowed to have such alluring details; a singular gold ring adorning his index finger, strawberry lips so inviting, it's making her head spin.  

Therefore, it’s not really her fault when her mind gets lost in a haze and her brain turns foggy when she notices how his strong arms flex whenever he turns the steering wheel, thumb tapping against the leather. Or when his blunt fingernails scratch at the slight stubble on his face and she wonders how it would feel on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs or- 

“You good, Sweetheart?” Rafe asks and she blinks, realizing he’s asked her a question. A question her dazed cerebrum has no recollection of.  

“Sorry?” She's embarrassed.  

A low chuckle rumbles from his sturdy chest. “What’s on your mind, hm?”  

“Oh, um— nothing just tired and…stuff,” she tries to sound convincing and his grin widens 

“Yeah? So, you’re telling me you weren’t just checking me out?” His tone turns into something condescending, patronizing.  

“What? I— no, no I was just—” 

“Relax, I’m just fucking with you,” but there’s a mocking glint in his eyes that indicates she’s not being very subtle. Her face burns. 

“Asked you if you were hungry?” He flits his eyes to hers. 

“Uh...yeah, sure. I mean, I don’t even remember how long it's been since I ate lunch to be honest,” she starts to ramble, trying to ignore the murky thoughts trying to reach beyond the surface.  

“Why don’t you come over to my place then and I could make you something? All I’m saying, is that I’m a great cook, feels unfair to me that you’re always the one filling up my belly with your baking,” he says as his mind starts to concoct a few other ways he could fill up her belly, willing to bet that she’d let him.  

He’s not an idiot, he sees the way her moony eyes travel down his features whenever she thinks he’s not paying attention, thinks it's adorable how sheepish she is about it.  

However, he’s hesitant about the right way to approach it, not wanting to scare the shy little thing away. But he’s not sure how much longer he can go without having her in the way he wants, in the way he needs.  

Therefore, he opts to warm her up with a homemade meal, and afterwards let her have a sweet treat; he'd fuck her dumb, stuff his cock into her tight cunt until tears start to trickle down her cheeks and she's a whimpering mess.  

He knows he could make her feel so good, wants to show her just how much she's missing, make her beg for it and wants to be a little mean, but most of all he just wants to make her his.  

“Um…okay,” she agrees with a nod of her head. How is she supposed to deny him of anything when he’s looking at her with eyes that resemble dulcet water puddles? 

[nescence]

Marriage life

JJK men x Fem!Reader

Summary - Basically just you and him in a marriage. Both wholesome and smutty. Involves: Gojo, Getou & Nanami

Warnings: Mirror sex, pervert Getou, praising, masturbating, massage sesh with Nanami ;), overstimulation.

PT2 pending…..

GOJO

You and Gojo are pretty much the rich aunty and uncle. You don’t have kids because your sister has pretty much filled that hole for you and babysitting the two twins is enough.

Movie night is a must with you guys. It’s relaxing and comforting especially on rainy days. So before bed when the kids are over you either watch horror or comedy, all snuggled up in a blanket. Gojo is always the last to fall asleep, it’s like he’s programmed to stay awake and protect you - always being the one to carry each of you to bed carefully.

“Satoru?” You mumble as your body is carefully placed onto the bed. You hear him hum as he covers you up. “The kids…” you trail off, sleep still in your body. He joins you in bed placing a kiss on your cheek then lips. “took care of em, get some beauty sleep” he reassures, arms sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer to him planting another on your forehead before you snuggle into him. The warmth emitting his body immediately putting you to sleep. His embrace has always been comforting, bringing you a sense of saftey you couldn't describe.

Clinginess, Gojo can be clingy whenever you’re off to work. He found it ridiculous why you would want to work in the first place. He had enough money for generations upon generations so you working was always baffling to him. Who in their right mind would work willingly?.

Sweets. You guys could make a factory with the amount of sweets you had in your cupboards. Maybe that’s why he always has an unbelievable amount of energy. Even in bed.

Practically a house husband.

“How’s my beautiful wife doing today?” Spreading his arms wide, Gojo pulls you into a hug. You were tired but you gladly accepted it, letting yourself fall into his hold. His arms remain at your hips staring down at you. “You’re glowing” his eyes sparkle, and you frown.

“Really? I thought I looked like shit” you say but he shakes his head “that’s weird…didn’t use anything new”. Once those words came out your mouth Gojo grins. “I could think of a reason why” his tone was cheeky, eyebrows wriggling as he stares down at you. Realising what he meant, you groan pinching his nipple which makes him jump.

“Ya nasty” rolling your eyes with a smile on your face.

Always, always praising you.

“Look at you…” Gojo practically whispers to himself, watching his fingers circle your wet clit through the mirror. Your body twitching under his electrifying touch, the way the tip of his middle finger delicately presses against your clit has you shaking for mercy. Licking his lips hungrily, his eyes observe. A fucking. Sight. To see.

Your brows curled and bottom lip disappears underneath your teeth. Legs broadened - felt embarrassing to you - like a work of art mirrored at gojo, granting him the sight of every inch and surface of his wife; your pussy glosses under the soft lighting of your bedroom, keeping his glistening cock cosy within whilst drops of cum seep out, running down his length. Your low whimpers sounding like the desperate cry of a pup. Face stained with dried tears. And Gojo loves it, bringing you to such a state to show how much he adores your body, how a stunning woman like you should be treated - he wants to give you nothing but pure pleasure caused by him and him only.

“Ahn~~” you moan, trying your best to keep your legs open as Gojo continues teasing your abused clit. Your sensitivity at a high due to your nonstop cumming. “You’re soo..beautiful [Name]” He lulls into your ear, mouth against your heated skin as he speaks. “Look baby, look” he stops fidgeting with your bud, your eyes avert to his in the mirror. “Don’t ya look fucking gorgeous?” Mouth parted as he speaks, breathing hungrily as he takes your hand into his. Guiding your fingers through your folds, making you spread yourself nice and wide for him to marvel at how well you suck him in, he hisses feeling you squeeze him along with the gorgeous sight. He has your fingers run through your slit, gathering both his and your essence. You exhale at the action any light touch on your clit making you twitch. “Bet you taste as good you look” his eyes lock onto yours, “hmm?”. Your gaze never leaves his blues as he guides your hand up to your lips, the pure intimacy in your eyes as your lips fall open, giving him the opportunity to push your fingers into your mouth. Closing it shut, you relish in the sweet taste of you and your husband, moaning vulgarly as you suck and swirl your tongue around your digits. Causing your husband to further expand within you.

His eyes, lost in yours, clouded by his lust whilst he watches you swirl your hips. Gaining whatever friction from his cock Sitting deep within your walls. All the while you’re lost in the motion, your eyes rolling shut revelling in the sensation. Your sucking becoming weak as you grow a knot within your stomach, mouth loosening and drool running down your chin. Drunk with sweet bliss.

Fucking hell. You’re killing him.

“Fuck…c’mere” his hand faces you towards him, lips immediately magnetise. Giving Gojo a chance to taste both you and him. Hungrily devouring you, not giving you a bit of control as his tongue rolls, leading you whilst moaning. Gojo sucks In a breath feeling your soft walls pulsate and squeeze his girth, his lips hung on yours. Letting out pleasured breaths as he finally moves his hips again, nicely…slowly…gliding his length up into your drenched hole. His name rolls off your tongue barely above a whisper, Gojo lazily kisses you as his mind is now elsewhere, gradually increasing his speed now that both his hands held onto your hips. A yelp slips your tongue feeling his swollen tip hit your cervix. The creamy mess of your cum reaching both ears, evidence of your unceasing sex. Whatever words Gojo grunts out falling into deaf ears, a feeling of rapture throughout out your body. Your vision blurry due to a well up of tears, eyes glued to the ceiling, mouth remaining parted as rhythmic moans are beat out your throat every time Gojo’s hips bounced you upwards.

“Your pussy’s so goood [Name]” Groaning, Gojo spouts out whatever comes into his mind. Big hands squeezing the flesh of your hips whilst he enjoys your cunt socked on him. “Feels so- so good baby- fuck” he grunts eyes catching the motion of his length disappearing into your pussy, a white ring of cum developed around his base. A reminder of your previous rounds, and yet he couldn’t get enough.

Seeing your head hung over his shoulder, tits bouncing, tears streaming….He wants more, he needs to make his wife feel just how fucking amazing she is to him.

GETOU

One thing about Getou is his acts of service, that's his love language. He'd help you with your hair, help with cooking despite being horrible at it. Anything he feels would burden you he'd do it.

Despite his act of service, you love returning the favour - one thing between you two is you self care days. Getou only doing it because of you. You'd help him out with his long silky hair, massaging his scalp, oiling his face. all sorts.

"Is it nice" you whisper softly, smiling as you watch him relax into you. His eyes remain closed as he hums, enjoying the feeling of your fingers scratching his scalp. You chuckle, reaching to get a serum for his face, whilst applying it you lean over to place a peck onto is lips. Getou’s purple eyes fluttering open to be met with the face of his beautiful wife, a fond smile spreads across his face as he watches the softness in your expression as you scrub his scalp. You’re always so gentle and pulpous with him. Just like he his with you.

He reaches his hand to take yours in, you let him although caught off guard. His lips meet your skin, a gentle kiss from him on your hand.

One thing you both love are drives, it didn't matter the destination or if there even is a destination. You both found amusement in having long drives either in comforting silence or with music. And during all that Getou's hands dont leave yours, interlocking your fingers in silence no matter how sweaty it gets he doesn't let go. Unless you stop for a snack.

Whenever your clothes go missing/ get damaged. Getou doesn't hesitate in replacing them. One day a bra or shirt of yours would be gone and the next day it'll be there right where you left it all brand new. Even if when you point out something you like, it'll be in your possession the next day.

Speaking of clothes getting damaged or lost. The reason being?. Your husband. Despite his cool demeanor and being your husband, Getou is a pervert for you. Stealing your clothes, enjoying their scent as he fucks himself using them. Just to make up for when you're not there.

You had gone out to meet your best friend because of an alleged emergency. And now Getou is left alone with his thoughts.

1 hour later, he finds himself watching a show to pass time. Frequently checking his phone to see if you’ve messaged him or called. But nothing. It doesn’t help when the last thing you said to him was hinting at something, something he knew very well what to be.

‘I have some things I wanna try out with you…’

Those words ring in his head and his mind goes into the gutter. Immediately thinking of the videos he came across on your laptop. You’ve both never done that before. Maybe?….

2 hours later, fuck… he groans into his hands. Unable to focus on the show. His dick was aching…throbbing for a release he can’t bear to resist any longer.

10 minutes past, and Getou finds himself digging through your dirty laundry. Eyes laying on that one lace panty he loves on you. He doesn’t waste time pulling the band of his sweats down to set himself free, tip angry and leaking with precum. Veins popping as if he was gonna explode. His mouth goes agape, letting out sharp breaths once he brings the piece of cloth to his nose. His free hand rubs his inflated tip whilst deeply inhaling the musky scent of your cunt.

“Fuck…Baby.” He gasps, eyes rolling as he begins to stroke his cock. Imagining your flooded hole welcoming him in. Desperately pumping him. “Sssshit [name]” he amps up speed, bringing the lace down to wrap around himself. He needs you. He needs so bad and you’re not here.

“[Name], [Name], [Name]— fuck ah—”

It’s not enough. He needs more, he’ll never cum this way. His hips buck into his hand in attempt to gain more friction, to replicate your gummy walls bouncing up and down him. Milking him. Emptying his balls till he’s all dried up.

“Yes baby…shit— ah- ah-”

His hand moves at an alarming speed, his release is right there. Within reach. A few more pants and strokes before he’s finally done, ropes of cum covering your laced panty, Getou hunching over as the release hits him hard. He groans, letting out a few breaths before looking at the mess he made.

All that mess and he’s still hard.

5 minutes pass.

“I need you- I need you-” Getou’s humping your pillow like a dog, rolling his hips into the soft cushion head thrown back at the frictions. “Ohhh fuck, fuck.” already chasing his third orgasm, his tip sensitive and red from the action. Pillow soaked with his cum and sweat running down his torso. Your lace panty lays on the floor all stained with his seed, Getou payed it no mind. Telling himself he’d get rid of it later and buy you a new one tomorrow. Now a new pillow too. Your name chants from his lips multiple times, your face appearing to him every time he closes his eyes.

He just. Couldn’t. Get. Enough.

He wants his dick to be squeezed, drenched, overstimulated to his limit. Your moans, his name leaving your soft lips in a scream. Everything about you makes his thrusts harder. Sweet moans leave his lips, as he goes harder. His mind filled with your every being, voice, touch.

“Suguru”

“Agh…fuck…yes baby” Your voice sounded so real, Getou could only throb at the sound.

“What’re you doing?” Sounded too real, his head snaps to your doorway. Seeing you stood eyes wide as you watch your husband hump your pillow shamelessly. Even then he doesn’t stop, eyes locked on yours feeling not only his heart but his cock best at the sight of you. He should stop, he should stop. He repeats in his head, but his body refuses, the pure sight of you bringing him closer to a finish.

“[Name]” he grunts, face red and hair stuck to his skin. “I need you…please- please-” begging you, his voice cracks, the sounds going straight to your already wet core. And of course, you couldn’t deny it.

NANAMI

One thing about Nanami is his consideration. No matter the situation he’s always have you first in mind. After work he’d always stop by the convenience store to buy you your favourite snacks. Now you have a whole cupboard full of it.

Compared to him, you have much more energy than he does. So every time he’d try his best to entertain your interests since it makes you happy.

Just like Gojo - he praises you every chance he gets.

“Awww kento what’s this” you pick up the stunning dress from the bed, admiring the way it shimmers under the light.

Nanami watches you with a small smile, your eyes sparkling just like the dress “It reminded me of you” he mumbles just enough for you to hear before your throwing your arms around him “Thank you so much. I love it.” You place a long kiss on his cheek, his arms wrap around your waist staring into your eyes as he spoke. “Why don’t you try it on? Since you like it so much let’s show it off” your brows perk up in shock. But then again, you should be used to this.

An hour later you’re coming out the bedroom all dressed up. The light in Nanami’s eyes glows once he lays them on you. What a beauty you are…

“I don’t know what I did in my life to deserve you” He speaks without thinking, reaching his hand out for you to take. “Oh stop it” you wave your hand, giggling like a Highschool girl receiving a compliment from her crush for the first time.

“I’m only stating the truth my love”.

Speaking of showing off. Nanami would never waste a chance to take you out, bringing you to restaurants, making sure you have your fill. Overall showing off his beautiful wife to let the world know how much of a lucky man he is to be graced with such a woman.

Working overtime is a habit Nanami can’t seem to get over. And because of that days or even weeks go by without you guys having that intimate time together. And Nanami, of course, always manages to make it up you.

“This is the least I can do. And no, you can’t return the favour” He speaks sternly, lifting you off the floor - hooking a hand underneath your knees and another around your torso.

“But you’ve been working. A lot. May I add and I’ll feel bad Kento” you argue as he places you on top of the massage bed. He plants a kiss onto your head, walking towards a cabinet “take your robe off”.

You watch him, annoyed by his disagreement. But oblige, a massage isn’t something you can easily pass on. And by your husband? You know it’ll be the best massage of your life. You lay face first on the bed, shuffling so you could get comfortable. You felt slightly chilly since Nanami suggested you go completely naked. But you have no complaints since it’s him.

“You ready?” He checks, his voice coming from your right.

“Mhmm”

Once you said that you felt a cool liquid dripping onto your back. The temperature sending shivers throughout your whole body. Your eyes close feeling his hands rub your back, spreading the oil whilst applying pressure.

“Relax for me [Name]” He spoke so calmly, so softly, it could put you to sleep. And on command you did. Relaxing just as your husband instructs, letting out hums of satisfaction whenever he hits the right spots. “Does it feel good?”. Fuck, his voice. That smooth, deep voice that you love so much. You’re trying so hard to ignore it, to not think so inappropriately about this innocent session.

“Yeah…you’re really good at this hun” you add, feeling his hands right above your rear, circles around your lower back. When he hits a specific spot you moan. “Right there Kento” you hiss as he goes back to area again, circling it until you’re satisfied “S’that good?” He inquires, making sure he’s done enough. And you nod, enjoying the tension being released.

Once he’s done with your back, he moves down to your legs, massive hands rubbing intently. Lathering them with oil. Doing to them what he did with your back.

You feel his hand move upward, now kneading your ass which caught you off guard. But you’re not complaining, rather, you giggle “Saving the best for last?” You imply, hearing Nanami sigh as he continues massaging.

“I won’t give you the satisfaction of my answer” You could hear the smile in his tone. But you don’t push on, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your body.

“Give me a sec”

Once he’s done, you hear his footsteps receding. Coming back after a few seconds later but he doesn’t do anything other stand there.

“Kento? What’re you doi— Ah!—” your husband causes you gasp as his fingers run through your folds with a cold oil. “K-Kento” your eyes expand, letting out a pleasured yelp as you hand springs to grip the massage bed. His fingers stuff you up so well, your insides already writhing. Turning you to mush as your husband's fingers slither deeper within you - the oil making it easier but also acting as an enhancement to your pleasure. What the fuck? you've felt good before but right now... you felt elated. And your moans only grew more intense as he went on.

“Judging from your reaction I made the right choice buying this oil.” He comments, fingers dragging in and out from your sopping cunt. Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel heat pool at your core, his fingers fucked you so good it’s almost embarrassing how they could bring you to this state.

“It’s only the two of us here my love. No need to restrain yourself” And with those words, a stimulation to your clit had you yelping. “Kento!”.

“Yes?”

Nanami is answered with a mewl, your body writhes beneath him. Legs springing up as a result of the overwhelming pleasure. Every once of your body felt hot. You felt goosebumps by your lower back where your husband’s hand laid whilst the other digs into your pussy, bringing you closer to climax.

“Too…ah…too much…” you barely manage to get your words out, constantly falling back into that world of pleasure. Mind solely focused on how your husband’s fingers glide against your sensitive walls, how they rub against clit. Oh…you were so close…and it didn’t go unnoticed by Nanami, he felt your cunt clench around his digits. And with that your husband increases his speed, your body tenses. Legs stretching, and hands clenching as you were on the edge of climax.

Before you knew it. Flashes blind your vision as you came. Soaking your husband’s fingers with your juices.

Nanami gives you a chance to catch your breath, soothing you with a hand massaging your back. But he doesn’t let it prolong for too long since he still had to move into the second part of this massage session.

✦ Finally back on my grind.

[littlexdeaths]

eddie munson x shy fem reader

warnings: hope y’all like CHEESE, reader wears glasses

part two |

let’s go, don’t wait masterlist

a/n: this is incredibly self indulgent and lame but i hope y’all enjoy xx.

“You’re staring… again.”

Nancy says under her breath, which has your eyes immediately darting away and back down toward your lunch out of sheer embarrassment.

“I was not staring….” you hiss, picking at the pile of peas on your tray.

“Oh, you soooo were,” she laughs, knocking her shoulder into yours. “Why don’t you just go and talk to him?”

You let out an exasperated breath before glancing over at your best friend. She’s giving you that soft yet encouraging gaze that’s entirely Nancy.

“Why would someone like him be interested in someone like me?”

Your voice is softer, but that underlying fear bleeds through nonetheless.

“I’m just so….” you trail off, chewing on your lower lip. “Boring.”

Your eyes have drifted back over to the hellfire table, where they seem to find themselves almost every lunch period now. Totally entranced by the male sitting at the end of the table.

Eddie Munson, dungeon master and local metalhead. Also the guy you’ve been harboring the biggest crush on since your junior year.

He looks even more pretty with the afternoon sunlight shining through the windows of the cafeteria, highlighting the warm chestnut hue of his fluffy curls. His lips are poised in an annoyed pout, fingers drumming on the table in rapid succession while he listens to Dustin’s nervous ramblings.

“He’s just so— outgoing and doesn’t give two shits what these dipshits around here think of him.”

Your lips can’t help but quirk up into a small smile when you witness him tossing a pretzel at Mike’s head.

“You are not boring,” Nancy sighs, her curls bouncing when she shakes her head in distain. “But you’re not gonna know if something could work out between you if you don’t at least try.”

Your snort has her rolling her eyes, but yours are still transfixed on the boy in question. So much so you haven’t noticed the way your glasses continue to slip down the bridge of your nose.

“I doubt he even knows my name, Nance.”

When your eyes suddenly catch his chocolatey brown ones, you feel mortified. You’ve been very careful about your… admiring during lunch or in between classes. But Nancy had momentarily distracted you, and now you’d been caught red handed.

Unbeknownst to you, this isn’t the first time he’s noticed your wandering gaze. Soft eyes that are filled with the utmost longing and kindness. Someone with a reputation such as Eddie Munson doesn’t have looks like that thrown his way very often.

So it’s no surprise he’s caught on.

But you don’t seem to notice the way he always glances back once you look away, dark eyes seeking out your figure in the halls. The longing of his own for you to finally meet his gaze. But your nose is either stuck in a book or those pretty eyes are trained on your feet.

It was maddening.

You quickly break his curious stare and jump to your feet, missing the way he shoots up from his own seat. You sling your backpack over your shoulder and leave your tray abandoned.

“I gotta go… I’ll see you later, Nance,” you say before she even has time to protest, keeping your head down as you make your way toward the exit.

Mentally still kicking yourself for being caught gawking at him like a bumbling idiot. But your heart leaps into your throat when you hear the slapping of sneakers on the linoleum behind you.

Before you can even process what’s happening you all but collide into a denim clad chest, gasping softly when his arms slip around your waist to catch you before you almost stumble backwards onto your ass.

“Whoa, easy there,” he chuckles, those same pouty lips quirking up into a lopsided grin. “Didn’t mean to scare ya…”

When he releases you, your whole body deflates— already missing the warmth of his palms. Even if it was only for a fleeting moment.

“Uh… sorry, did you need something?” you ask, unable to hide the confusion in your tone.

He purses his lips, twisting his rings on his fingers in almost a nervous manner.

Why would he be nervous?

“I just had a question is all…” he mumbles, “and honestly, I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while now.”

And your heart nearly stops when he carefully pushes your glasses back up the bridge of your nose.

“You free tonight?”

[hoshigray]

I told you I was going to do it and here I am lmao. Any who reader and Toji are bumming on the couch watching a movie within the movie there is a spicy scene involving 69 that is mediocre. It gives reader an idea to make a bet with Toji to see who can last the longest. Toji isn't budging at first but when the reader mentions that they want to do in the same position within the movie (something they never did before) he gladly accepts the challenge. I'll leave the plot and ending up to you love. I know you will work your magic for him.

69 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 .ᐟ | toji fushiguro

hehehe ty jazz, i'll do my best for youuu ☆☆☆

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - masturbation (m! receiving) - 69 position - oral (f! + m! receiving) - impact play (spanking + f! receiving) - overstimulation - clitoral play (licking and sucking) - pet names (baby, doll, mama, pretty thing) - mention of saliva/spit. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.9k

“Wow….this movie kinda sucks.”

“Mhm…Aye, y’re the one who wanted to watch this shit.” 

“Well, I mean, at least it’s…semi-enjoyable.”

Toji and you were sitting on the couch, winding down in the living room after a nourishing dinner. One of the many things you liked to do with your man was to watch movies, figuring that would be a perfect thing to do during the downtime to chill and huddle with your man. What you didn’t expect, however, was how underwhelming the movie seemed. 

It was one of those rated R movies batted around within the year, figuring now would be an ideal time to get to it. Welp, it was entertaining enough for you two to continue watching. Now, being midway through, it’s getting a little frustrating to deal with. 

“Oh, okay…” annnnnd now the film has transitioned to an abrupt sex scene….how great. “I guess this is why it’s rated R.”

The sex scene you two were watching was…average at best. You’ve seen way spicier scenes in your life — hell, literal cringey porn you’ve watched with your friends was heavily more explicit than this. There was the rushed kissing, the frantic clothes coming off, no amount of foreplay whatsoever — just heading right into it, exaggerated cries coming from the woman as the guy frantically humps her nude frame.

You observe the scene through a neutral gaze as you lay against Toji’s side, his arm stretched to your shoulder to keep you close. But then, your head tilts when something on the screen catches your attention. 

The camera pans to the guy’s face, who’s lying on the bed as the other straddles them, facing his lower half. For a few seconds, you can only see the guy’s face until the camera follows him going closer to the girl’s ass that’s hovered before him. His tongue sticks out before he propels his mouth to her bottom, and her muffled moans can be heard off-screen with his grunts. 

Loud, amateur sounds aside, the position sparked something for you to turn and ask the following to your boyfriend: “Hey, Toji?” He hums, feeling the vibration of his voice from your hand on his chest. “Have you ever done that position?”

You can see his eyebrows trench down — not bewildered by your question, but pondering how he could answer truthfully. “Mmm…I think so? Been a long while, though.”

You nod aimlessly with your eyes glued to the screen, hearing the woman’s whimpers get a bit louder as the guy grasps her ass while “eating her out.” The thought of being on top of Toji and his mouth and hands on your body like that, you had to bite the inside of your cheek to remind yourself not to get too—

“Why you ask; ya horny?” Well, you can’t be too modest around this man, huh. You finally turn to look at him, prepared for the smirk he greets you with. A smile is all you reply with. “Sorry, baby, I don’t know about tonight. Kinda tired.” 

For a few seconds, you’re on his side. You understand he’s a little fatigued from work today and only wants to chill with his partner. However, a tiny part of you – the devilish cutie side – takes over and slides your hand from his chest. Down to his hard abs covered by his black wife beater, stopping at his clothed inner thigh, resulting in him hitching his breath. 

“Tired?” You say in a soft tune, your eyes peering down to your hand as it rubs on his thigh, inching further and further in. You take note of Toji’s fingers tapping on your shoulder – a silent warning. “Are you sure about that?” 

“You better move that hand, Y/n.” His body jolts when your hand creeps up to his groin, motioning around it with provocative kneads. 

“Hmm, why?” You play coy, placing kisses on the underside of his chin. “You tired of me?” 

He throws his head back at your soft lips, attacking his neck while your hand comes to the hem of his sweatpants. A shaky breath is released at the contact of your cold fingers on his warm erection. “Hmmm…could never be tired of you….Ahhh,“ your forefinger swipes around the glans.

“Then what are you so scared of?” You keep pressing on, sucking on his skin under your lips. His length gets firmer under your grasp, veins grazed by your fingertips. “Scared you wouldn’t last longer than me?”

“Ohh, don’t play with me, Y/n,” Toji grunts, the hand on your shoulder grips your cardigan. His erect cock throbs on your palm, and precum begins to leak out from you, playing with the tip. “–Mmmph…I already told you I wasn’t feelin’ it tonight.”

Liar, you say to yourself, noting him breathing slowly while you massage his balls. “Please, Toji?” You ask sweetly to his ear, his hand coming down to your waist as you stroke him off. “I never done that position before, but it looks real fun…I wanna do it with you.” 

Toji doesn’t give in easily, looking at you with a raised brow. So you throw in another please with an innocent pout and two bats of the eyes to seal the deal. He chortles; how can he say no to you looking at him like that? “Bet I can make you lose within the first few minutes.” 

You beam at him, “Bet I can make you cum first.”

“Y’re not gonna last for very long, princess, I can promise you that.”

A smirk pulls your cheeks. “Let’s try it out then.”

And just like that, with a mutual agreement, the challenge was put to the test. 

So here you are, straddling on top of Toji on the living room couch, both your bottoms and his sweats on the cold floor. Your bare ass out in front of him to see as he lies with his head on the couch pillow. Your front facing his legs, and his dick erected for you to lick and suck on. 

It started slow in the beginning; Toji massages your asscheeks as you lick around the glans and stroke his girth. “Mmmm, just like that, mama,” he praises, egging you on to take in more of him. Your mouth bobbing up and down his shaft, gradually taking in inch by inch until your mouth reaches the hilt. “Fuuck, feels so good…”

You aren’t forgotten either, Toji starting with slow licks, his tongue lapping your labia. You mewl on his cock, voluntarily moving your hips to satiate the throbs of your cunt. Shit, you love it when he eats you out, but this position makes you turn on even more — unable to see what he’s doing, letting his hands and tongue speak for himself. 

And you have to give it to yourself; you mangled to survive for a little while! The first minute was just him warming you up, teasing your folds with swishes to get you real wet as you blow him, his fingers groping your ass as his thumb plays around your ass taint. It all had you riled up, rocking your lower half so much that the man had to station you still for him to feast on your wetness properly. 

It wasn’t until you felt his tongue brush up on your clitoris did shit get serious. One sharp, muffled gasp paired with a jolt from your body. Of course, Toji noticed, his grin coming from ear to ear. “Oh, did I do that?” Yes, you did, you bastard. “Heh, you are not ready for this, baby…”

He says this before stuffing his mouth back into your leaky chasm so his tongue could swirl around your slit with vigor so rough that you nearly choked on your gasp for air. “—Oohh!! W–Wait, Toji, not so—Ahhn!” Fast licks have you squirm, prompting your man to keep you on him with his hands on your waist. It’s hard to concentrate giving Toji a blowjob with him nibbling on your labia before throwing more laps on your clitoris. 

“Wait, Toji, s-stoop; I’m gonna—Nnaaah!” Your fingers clamp around his girth, howling as he bullies his tongue to enter your vagina, his face buried nose-deep in your ass while sucking on your genitals. “Fuuck, oh shit, I can’t…Ohh, ohhh!!”

And just like that, you release into his mouth before you could even prepare yourself. Your trembling figure jolts with every shock coursing through your body. And Toji drinks your essence with every passing wave, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you straddled above him. 

Oh fuck, the clarity you experience is mind-blowing every time he eats you out — whimpers escape pretty lips as your sensitive nerves still receive gingerly laps on your soapy folds. That felt way too good, oh my God…

But it doesn’t stop there — no, no. Not with Toji, too pleased with how he made your legs tremble before him. He snickers while spreading your folds, “Pretty thing, look at you winking at me...Nnmm, so fuckin’ good…”

He brings his mouth back to your cunt, and you jerk from the contact as your body is still not rid of the shocks from the previous orgasm. You frantically call for him, trying to writhe your ass away from him. “Ohhnn, Toji, wait, let me rest for a—Ahhhnn!!“

A sharp pain comes from an abrupt smack to your buttcheek, the skin stinging from the impact of Toji’s hand. “Aht, aht, don’t try and run now. You talked big earlier, even when I warned you.” He smacks your ass again, his fingers digging deep into your flesh to pinch. You scream for him — that’s what he wants. “Now you’re gonna sit right here and let the winner have his fill.” 

You can’t argue with him from there; Toji’s hold on you not giving in to your attempts of mercy — same for his mouth on your delicate labia. The noises coming from there are so raunchy, downright erotic, way more than whatever the hell that movie was doing. You could only wail out your cries, eyes spiraling up to your head from every lap to your clit. No point fighting the pleasure, resting your head on his thigh.

But that was short-lived because Toji was quick to correct you with another slap to your butt. Shit came out of nowhere, almost choking on your spit. “C’mon now, doll, you can’t leave me hangin’ here. Suck me off, princess.” He rubs the pain on your butt away, yet you know he’d do it again if you weren’t compliant.

You bring his fat cock back to your face, licking on the tip while stroking him. You take in the head and suck him in, bobbing your head and coating his length with your saliva. Kisses to his glans result in him burrowing his face into your ass again, hungry lips ravishing your tender insides. Jesus, the way his tongue flicks on your clit has you humming on his cock nonstop.

Oh, God, oh fuuuuck, you remove your lips from Toji’s dick, yet your hand keeps gliding up and down. “—Mwah! Hoohhh, oohhh, Tojiiii…! Again, I’m gonna cum, again….Khaa—Ohhhhh!!”

The second orgasm hits you hard, more keenly than the last, and your body quivers on top of Toji once again. Whines come from wet lips as you descend into your haze, and your toes curl as Toji doesn’t withdraw himself until he’s satiated his thirst with every remnant of your fluids. 

With every jolt and shock flowing down your frame, you use this time to let your body ride this high out, placing chaste kisses on Toji’s cock. That is until you feel Toji suck on your folds suddenly. You jump and quake, turning around to beg. “Stooohp; let me rest, please!”

He gives you a smug look with a playful smack to your hot, stinging butt. “Done being curious now, mama?”

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are wholeheartedly appreciated ☆ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[ghostfacd]

I’D BE THE MAN. | TOM BLYTH

pairing. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

summary. in which yn receives an unbelievable amount of hate, but she knows that if it were the other way around and she was a guy, they would praise her for being “the man”

installment of this au | read it for context!

ynuser tsitp behind the scenes!! 💌 sean and chris thought it was soooo funny to carry me at random times (thanks guys! very steven and conrad of you) 🤨🤨

tagged @/sean.kauf, @/chrisbriney_, @/thesummeriturnedpretty

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user1 anyone lwk think she’s a slut lol

➥ user2 no bae you’re so right cus why is she letting 2 different guys carry her when she’s literally dating tom

➥ user1 LMAOO real shes so ungrateful, if tom was my bf, i wouldn’t be around other guys

➥ user3 it’s literally?? for?? her?? work?? are you guys deluded, hating on successful women is crazy

➥ user 4 last time I checked, working does not = to whoring yourself with other guys

sean.kauf not our fault you’re easy to carry miss ella fisher

chrisbriney_ fave part of working on set is carrying u and hearing u scream

➥ user5 EVILLL

user6 the way she isn’t even replying to her cast mates are crazy, wake up! you’re not that famous

➥ user7 tbosas being #1 for movies says otherwise but ok!

tomblyth YN!!! My sweet, funny, and incredibly talented girl, congratulations for all you have accomplished. It’s been so much fun with you on the set of TBOSAS, and it’s been absolutely even more endearing to sit behind the scenes and watch you act for TSITP!! Ella Fisher is my favorite Fisher anyways :’)

tagged @/ynuser

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ynuser TOM!! I love you.

➥ user8 only 4 words? oh she hates him 😭

➥ user9 when you would die for tom blyth to post you but y/n avocot doesn’t gaf when he posts her

➥ user10 literally not true? i’m sure she just doesn’t wanna put everything online, we can all tell that she loves him

rachelzegler you guys are the cutest!

➥ user11 is yn holding you hostage??

sean.kauf always love having you on set man

➥ user12 yn’s bf vs yn’s side guy LOL

➥ user13 knock it off, i bet tom wouldn’t like his “fans” disrespecting his gf and her cast members

user14 she never posts him istg this is so one sided

user15 she’s lucky she’s pretty cause she can’t act or sing for the life of her

➥ user16 not even pretty LOLLL

ynuser since everyone thinks i’m so ungrateful, TOM!!! Thank you for always being there for me and comforting me when i’m sad. You’re my best friend and the best boyfriend I could ask for. I love you my love.

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user17 LMAOO yn called y’all out!

tomblyth i love you in every universe, the haters are LAMEEE!!

➥ user18 YOU TELL THEM TOM

VOGUE New Interview And Photo Shoot With New Star Y/N Avocot OUT NOW! The New Actress And Rising Music Star Shares Her Recent Favorite Song — “The Man” By Taylor Swift!

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user19 the man by taylor oml she’s going through it

user20 idk how anyone could hate her, she’s so sweet and gorgeous

user21 miserable ppl on the internet after hating on a girl for no reason other than that she’s close to her cast members

ynuser thank you for having me Vogue!

ynuser if i was a man, then’d i’d be the man!

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iloveyn PURRR YN I LOVE UUUU

tomblyth hell ya u would

sean.kauf queen i miss u, come back to film szn 2

➥ bellyconklinsgf WAIT SZN 2???

➥ sean.kauf oh shit..

➥ ynuser HAHA SEAN THE DIRECTOR AND JENNY HAN ARE GONBA KILL U

user22 so she replies to sean but not tom?? 🤡

➥ user23 LET IT GOOOOOO

user24 i love to see successful women not letting haters tear them down

user25 we love you yn!!!

rachelzegler ID BE THE MAAAAANNNN

[neo-novaa]

pretty boy

*ੈ✩ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ethan landry x reader

*ੈ✩ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: drinking/drunk characters, slightly very suggestive ending, no spoilers :)

*ੈ✩ 𝐚/𝐧: he is so babygirl

you’re on his lap, hands lost in his hair, his twitching around your waist.  your teeth clash as you’re desperately pulling at each other to get as much contact as possible. his lips still taste like cheap vodka, and you’re sure yours tastes the same; through all his noise, you can still hear the party raging on only a few floors down. 

you pull away to catch your breath, and your fingers are gently tracing the edges of ethans face. he’s nearly panting, his breathing always gets so husky when he’s making out with you.

ethan moved to bring your lips to his, but you’re gently pushing on his shoulders. 

“no, no—stop,” you whisper, cradling his face in your hands. “lemme just…look at you.”

you’re drunk. you’re really drunk. and as much as you want to kiss him, an even greater part of you just wants to look at him. 

you trace his features; the soft wrinkles on his forehead, his prominent brow bone, the slight bags beneath his eyes and the almost invisible freckles just below them. you obsess over them. 

“what are you doing?” ethan slurs, trying to escape your grasp. 

“you’re pretty…” you’re mumbling to yourself. even through ethan’s silent protests you’re worship every detail of his face. 

“you’re drunk.” he retaliates while you gently thumb his cheekbones. 

“yeah, but i’m also right.” you scoff, grabbing ethans chin and yanking him towards you, rewarding him with a soft kiss on his cheek. 

but you quickly return to mapping his skin, murmuring soft praise that even you weren’t aware of. 

but ethan was. he was very, very aware of it. 

“s’pretty,” your words slur together, coming out as soon as you’re able to think them. 

“did you know that? y’so pretty ethan…” you’re gently running your thumbs along his lips, and ethan’s eyes are locked on yours. 

“pretty boy…my pretty boy…” your fingers reach his neck and you trace the edges of ethans adams apple. you admire the way it hitches when you compliment him. 

“you’re not too bad yourself,” he replies, nervously, and after nearly a minute of silence on your part. if you were only half as drunk as you were now, you might’ve been able to catch that gap, and pieced together that ethan almost definitely had to hype himself up to say something like that. 

“oh yeah?” you straighten your back and your hands finally stop: one palm pressing into his chest, the other resting at the crook of his neck. you finally meet ethan’s gaze through glassy and half-lidded eyes.

you can feel his heart pounding beneath your fingertips. 

you pull his lips to yours and ethan melts in the kiss. it’s nothing like the tooth and tongue from mere moments ago. it’s soft, languid, as if you have all the time in the world. 

but unfortunately, and rather obviously, you don’t. 

ethan had just finally worked up the courage to slide a hand under the hem of your shirt when the door swings open. 

ah. it’s chad. and he’s so clearly, visibly, ostensibly drunk. 

“yo someone just brought, like, three fucking keggers. i don’t give a shit about what you guys are doing you have got to get down here!”

at least he has the common courtesy to close the door behind him.  

you look back to ethan, his warm hands firm on your waist, those dilated puppy dog eyes looking up at you. 

“you’re not going anywhere.” he murmurs firmly, pressing his lips to your skin. “especially not after calling me all those names.”

and yeah, maybe you’ll miss out on the best kegger this university will ever have, but at least you could say you were fucking your boyfriend instead. 

[ryozakidesu]

Yours, Inevitably - l.jn

2/4 diary of the heartbreakers

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

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

GENRE: Angst, Fluff, Humour, Smut

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

WC: 18 k (I tried my best)

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

Enjoy reading! -ryo

Lee Jeno is a phenomenon.

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

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

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

You wanna hear what’s even more annoying?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

You were twelve, when you met Jisung.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my gosh!”

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

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

“Bongsik-ah!”

So it has a name. Bongsik.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened this time?”

“She’s really–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Honestly, it’s getting pretty boring and predictable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Haechan?”

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

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

And that way has a name. Yunjin.

“Ah, Jeno,”

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

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

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

Someone’s here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t mind me!” you laugh again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

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

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

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

“Not you too,” You say rather exhaustedly.

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

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

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

“You don’t have to take care of me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You have absolutely no idea.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No! I’ll go. You don’t need to–”

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s talk outside—”

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

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

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

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

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

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am not drooling!”

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

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

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

I mean, there has to be something, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

9:56pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n?” It’s him. Fuck, it’s him!

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

“Jeno,”

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

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

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

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

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

God, all of that can be yours.

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

“I like you. Very much.”

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

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

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

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

Fuck, shit, fuck! This cannot be happening!

“Oh, my, god!”

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

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

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

And it all just stops.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeno was your first love.

And then Jeno became your first heartbreak.

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

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Is it wrong to be this young and this tired?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is Chenle upstairs, too?” He starts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

8… 9….

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

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

10… 11… 12…

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

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

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

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

You were a lost cause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

“Lee Jeno, what the fuck was that?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m gonna sit this one out, Yang–”

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

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

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

He’s not letting Minho get up.

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

One shot, two shots, three shots, four.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He just needs to know you’re alone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Don’t break, Jeno.

“Jeno.. please look at me.”

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

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

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

Just this once.

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

“Why don’t you want me?”

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

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

“Y/n—“

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

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

“I’m so—”

“Ask half of your team.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tell me you want me," he says.

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

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

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

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

"J-jeno.."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Of course he's good at this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good girl," he groaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Sooyoung, Minnie, Hoyeon, Yoonah.

So far, those are the names that you gathered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How about you?”

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

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

And as expected, he has a girl with him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? I’m invited here!” You whined.

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

God, he’s so handsome.

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

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

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

“What the fuck?!” He yells.

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

“I-I’m s-sorr—”

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

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

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

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

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

With that, he walks out and leaves you broken.

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

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

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

This is way more than a broken heart.

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

Are you that hard to want?

Are you that hard to need?

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

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

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

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

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

You hoped that it would ease the pain.

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

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

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

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

You’ll never be rejected again.

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

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

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

It was odd to say the least.

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

And now, you’ve proven your point.

But why does it feel… strange?

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

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

What else did you want?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silly you, for thinking you’ve moved on.

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

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

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

“Kun,”

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Jeno knows he’s royally fucked.

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

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

He tried to keep his distance, because he promised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, this is just a game for you.

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

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

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

He takes a deep breath before pulling out his phone.

He carefully types, calculating everything he needs to say.

[7:35am] to: y/n

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

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

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

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeno, Jeno, Jeno. Fucking Lee Jeno.

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

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

He’s not here ‘til 7, right?

“Oh, you’re still here.”

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

“Yeah.” You backed down to the couch.

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

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

“She’s doing fine,”

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

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

“Kun says its okay–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gulp, gathering courage to actually start the conversation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Jeno is still out of his mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you sleep with y/n?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Talk to mom, hyung.”

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeno was eighteen when he made his first mistake.

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

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

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

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

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

“I like you. Very much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What you did next was unexpectable.

You had tried to kiss him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She.. she’s fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jeno, we’ve talked about this.”

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

“She’s your sis—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

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

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

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

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

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

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

[5:32pm] unknown number

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

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

And off to dreamscape hill, Jeno goes.

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

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

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

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

Slowly, you pull the earphones out.

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

“I think we’re past that, Jeno.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure you will,”

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

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

“Lee Jeno! Lee Jeno! Lee Jeno!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nope,” Jeno says with a pop.

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

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

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

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

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

“You did well, kid.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I promise you, I went here in my own will. Two idiots just talked some sense into me, and Jisung told me about the promise you made my mom years ago.”

Then there was silence. But this time, it wasn’t deafening. It was peaceful. Its as if you two are finding serenity in each others presence and just the way you stare at each other already says the words your mouth couldn’t speak.

But Jeno cut it short. “Does this mean..”

“I want to try, Jeno. I want to experience this with you. Slowly, at our own pace. I want to go on dates. Carnivals. Watch netflix. Everything, with you.” There's a tinge of shyness in your voice, and Jeno just wants you to scream it out. You don’t need to shy away from him.

“Everything, with me. At your own pace. I’ll accept everything you can offer,” He assured your worried mind.

You nod gently. “I want to feel loved without feeling like I’m begging for it,”

Jeno shakes his head vigorously, “No, baby, you’ll never beg to be loved, ever again. I swear in my grave.” He takes one step closer.

“I’ll trust you and risk getting my heart broken again, but I really hope you won’t.”

One more step closer “I will never. Baby, you’re it for me. I didn’t know it before, but I should’ve known it was you, because no one else made sense.”

You nod again, biting your lip. “When I visited my mom, I told her about you,”

“Yeah?” Jeno asks, in a sweet tone, taking another step closer.

You smiled at him. “I bet she would trust you too,”

“I will not break her trust. Not again,”

He watches carefully as you raise your hand to cup his cheeks, his reaction was to lean into your touch. He takes your initiative as a signal, but still takes his movement slowly.

You gulp, looking up at him. “Can you love me now?”

“Oh, baby. I have loved you since forever. It just took me time to realize it.”

And then, as you tiptoe to match his height, he feels your lips on him and he swears that you taste like heaven.

Jeno didn’t remember how long you talked that night, but somewhere in the midst of your laughter and smiles, he decided that he would destroy the world for you.

Because you might not know it, but in every universe, in every lifetime, and in every story, Jeno has always been completely, madly, and inevitably yours.

A/N: From the bottom of my heart, I apologize for making you guys wait this long. I promise, it just happened to be my worst year ever :'(( but at least she's here! I just wish this could at least be worth it. Tune in for the next part (I promise, it would NOT take this long lmao)

taglist: @cutiepeas @legbouk @hyuckissed @bockhyun @hibernatinghamster @shookyungsoo @sundamariis @sharkipoonis @ohmykwonsoonyoung @carelessshootanonymous @glamourizz

[bee-wg]

Year 2:

“Jay! What the Flip?” It’s the ass crack of dawn, and Theo is already trying his best SpongeBob impression.

“Whaaat?” I yelled back with a mouth full of pancakes.

“You put your dirty clothes on my bed again!” He squealed.

”Dude, you asked for it. What are you whining about?”

“Boys, What did I say about yelling in the morning?” She yelled.

“Yewn, bwintow!” I think Dad was telling us to break it off, but he’s too lost in the Cream Cheese Danish.

Can’t blame him. Delicious and high protein? There’s nothing better.

Theo rushed down with a constipated face. 

“Ewww. They’re still wet to the touch. Wait. Is it dripping sweat?”

Okay. I overlooked the wet part, but he asked me to have it. 

I’ve been cleaning out some gym clothes that don't fit anymore, and Theo wanted some. I’ve decided to fully commit on football and my stocky phase, so I gave that shirt one last try yesterday. It was definitely not made for a more rugged build person. As I walked around the house, I unknowingly soaked it. I used to be disgusted with sweating. I would shower and wash the clothes by hand after each morning run. Recently I’ve been sweating a lot easier, but Dad told me to look at the bright side of things, and I do see it. Usually I would only sweat when I get a real good workout. Since it's easier to sweat buckets, that means I’m getting lots of exercise.

That leads back to this. I don’t feel as compelled to wash them anymore. They’re the result of my hard work on the journey back to being shredded. 

“No more pancakes in the morning for the month.” He said.

“What?…But…You can’t do that.” 

His face tells me, “Yes, loser. I can.”

***

“What happened, dude? Your cat died?” Brad asked.

This is supposed to be an easy practice because it’s the last before the summer. I guess Coach woke up and chose violence. 

I’ve been only doing a few yards of Quick Steps and Sumo squats. My lungs are now collapsing.

I’m only 230 pounds; there are players heavier than me doing better. I’m doing something wrong. It must be because I didn’t have protein pancakes for days.

“Dude, you there?” Brad asked.

Trying not to wheeze, I replied.

“Yeah, S’all good. I’m just hungry.” 

It would be an understatement. When you’re used to protein goods pumping your belly full of energy every morning, what does five English muffins and some hash browns even do?”

“Hahaha, classic Jay. You’re the man.” Brad answers with a slap on my back.

“Gosh, you’re getting sweatier than Aiden.” He said in disbelief.

“Oh, by the way. Aiden’s going to Costco to buy a speaker for our dorm. You mind giving him a lift?” Brad asked.

“Bad timing man, my dad broke the old Toyota. It’s taking a long time to repair.”

“No problem. I’ll see you next semester then. Take care!” Brad waved as he sprinted out of the field.

***

I felt like I could eat a horse when the bus arrived. I passed through the usual stops, and finally.

The warm smell of chicken nuggets invites me.

I pull out my phone and check. Ten consecutive days. I can definitely redeem a free meal today.

“Welcome, what can I get you?” The cashier asked.

“Can I have the Double Western Deluxe Combo?” “ I have the loyalty discount.”

“Thank you, here’s your number.”

After what felt like forever, they finally called my number. 

It’s a pretty big meal, but today’s situation calls for it. 

I’ve been doing pretty well sticking to a fries-only diet when I’m here. With some occasional burgers and soda thrown in, I’ve accumulated a few thousand points to have meals like this once in a while. The only downside is the bus here takes way too long. I guess it’s better than the neighbours knowing I’m a regular customer. 

As I finished the fries, I saw a guy wandering outside with my university’s gym bag.

Wait, is he from the team? 

Wait, is that Aiden?

No. Shit, Is Aiden waving to me?

He’s probably waving to someone else.

Then the door’s jingle chimes.

“Yo, I didn’t expect to see you here!” Aiden said.

My alone time is ruined.

“Yeah man, me too. What brought you here?” I asked.

“Just bought the speaker and couldn’t find any restaurants here. I thought Costco had a food court.” He looked down at my plate.

“Whatchu havin’? Oh Damnnn, that’s a chunky burger!” He said in excitement.

“Haven’t had them in years, my mom hates that shit.” 

I just wish to crawl into a hole at this point.

“Yeah, my mom hates them to-” 

“I should have one too.” Aiden interrupted.

”What?”

Then he came back with a smaller combo with a box of salad.

“Oh man, I’ve been wanting to have a taste for so long,” Aiden said with glittering eyes.

He got a few bites of the burger and fries, then moved on to the salad.

“So what are you doing this summer?” I asked.

“Oh, not much. Probably hang out with the guys. My dad wants me to go to a training camp though. It’s not like I will play football after college anyway, so what’s the point?”

Then we talk about dorm drama and who the coach is going to recommend to the NFL scouts.

He is actually quite chill to talk to. 

“You don’t like it?” I point down to his unfinished burger.

“No, it’s the best thing I’ve had in years. Definitely beating celery or carrots. I just have a diet going on, and I kinda impulse bought this.”

“I could finish it for you.” I offered.

“Really? Thank you so much dude!” He said.

“You’re actually pretty fun to hang out with. I always thought you had a stick up your ass.” He added unhelpfully.

By the time the last of his burger and fries disappeared in my stomach, I was ready to sleep it off when I got home. 

My phone rang, waking me up from sleep. It’s 2 AM.

Probably Number Seven. He always calls at an odd hour. 

I picked up the call.

“Duuuuuuude, I didn’t know you go to fast foods. I thought we don’t keep anything from each other.” Instead of number seven, Brad said.

“Jay, knock it off,” Theo grumbled on the other side of the room.

“Keep it down, Brad. What is it?” 

I knew shit would get out of the bag sooner or later. At least I had two weeks of peace.

“Next time let me join too!” Brad said.

What the hell is up with these people? 

“Fine, whatever. Let me go to sleep.”

“Thanks a lot, man. I’ve never had fast food before!”

I have the feeling that this is going to bite me in the ass later.

Brad is calling me. Again.

“Dude, what?” I asked calmly.

“Woah, no need to get so worked up.”

“I asked some of my mates, they all agreed to meet up at the mall’s parking lot,” Brad said.

What is going on? It’s only been five hours since he last called me.

“Don’t forget to bring your laptop and an empty stomach! It’s gonna be an epic summer.” Then he hung up on me.

I should be used to Brad’s bullshit by now. He’s been like this since high school.

The bus on the way there is as tedious as usual. 

Why did he tell me to go with an empty stomach? Didn’t he know that I get really grumpy without any breakfast? It’s worse now without pancakes.

He looks at me eagerly, like a dog finding its treat.

“What is it, man?” I asked as he led me to the back of the restaurant.

Then, no Harry Potter bullshit, he opened the wall.

“What the hell? There was a room back here all this time?”

“Wait, Brad. You rented a party room?”

“It’s sick, right? I thought we could chill here for the summer, and go to the river nearby when we’re bored. Oh, I also brought the guys here. And a projector!”

“How did you afford this? I didn’t know you were rich.” I look at the big ass room with my friends in there already playing video games. Even Aiden the snitch is here.

“Oh, I have a pretty successful OnlyFans account. I thought I could spend it on you guys.”

“…”

“…”

“Good for you, man. Gotta hustle in this economy.”

He ordered a party combo with a bunch of salad. Then we started playing video games. It wasn’t until I was on a losing streak playing Yoshi on Mario Kart, I realized. They were staring at me expectantly.

“What?” I asked.

“So…Can you help us finish?” Aiden said.

Oh no. Not again. I turned to look at Brad.

He responded with a toothy grin.

“Please Jay, you have, like, the biggest appetite out of all of us. Look at all this free food going to waste. I bet you’re still hungry.”

“There are five of you,” I said.

“Marcus can help,” Brad added.

“Wait, me?” Marcus said.

He’s the team’s linebacker. The only guy bigger than me.

“Fine. At least it’s free.” I said reluctantly.

The fact that all of the juicy meat is screaming for my attention might be clouding my judgment.

We continued playing games, watched some movies while I munch

It was pretty fun. I got to talk to the people I wouldn’t usually talk to.

For example, I didn’t know Braxton played piano or Oscar was a hardcore Pokémon card collector.

The rest of the summer continued and the guys would meet up about three times a week.

I should’ve said no the second time Brad asked. But how can I let the food go to waste when the guys need me?

Marcus doesn’t come often because he’s occupied with his boyfriend. So the guys developed a way for me to eat all of their share. I would drink a dubious amount of water to expand my stomach in the morning, giving me more space. 

It was incredibly stupid, but when the guys cheered me up while I devoured the last of the remains, I felt pretty proud of myself.

By the end of the summer, not wanting to waste the last of our freedom. Everyone has been scrambling for things to do.

That’s where Brad’s dad comes in. He organized a BBQ party by the beach and invited all the football Dads from high school who were still in their little group chat. Of course, we are invited too.

“Oh come on, Jay Jay. You have to go, or else I’m gonna be all alone.” Brad whined.

“No Brad. You’re gonna be with twenty people, you won’t be alone.” I replied.

“If you’re worried about not having any swim trunks that fit, you can borrow from my old man, or we could go shopping together.” Shit, he’s awfully insightful.

“Your dad is like, 500 pounds. I’m not that fat, dude.”

Then Theo asked me if he could join cause he had grown out of his swim shorts too. Whatever that means.

That’s how we ended up here with Brad showing me an ugly Hawaii print speedo with a blue Jay on it, and Theo laughing his ass off with him.

“No, I’m not going to wear that,” I said for the final time.

“You’re no fun, Jay,” Theo said.

“Right? This guy gets it.” Brad replied to him.

“So you’re the culprit who made Jay fat,” Brad asked.

”Dude, you don’t know the half of it. I basically sacrificed myself to advance his cooking career.” I added.

“I don’t know. I would think taking care of his laundry, dishes, and meals, just to have him burp in my face and snore at night makes up for it. If anything, I'm doing too much. I should stop doing the protein pancakes agai-“ 

”Theo! You’re literally the best chef in the world. I am honoured to be your Guinea pig for the rest of my life.” I said.

He smiled 

Yes! Crises subverted.

“Hahahahaha you two are so strange.” Brad, who is still listening, said.

The possibility of protein pancakes being taken away from me sends shivers down my spine. I try to refocus on Brad’s shenanigans.

He came out of the fitting room with a professional swimming Jammer.

Why did he even take his shirt off? Goddamn washboard abs.

“Don’t you think it’s too extra for the beach barbecue?” I asked.

“I think it fits him nicely,” Theo said.

“Theo, you get me,” Brad said, then winked at him.

Is he trying to rizz my cousin?

“It’s my turn!” Theo said, grabbing a few trunks he chose.

Then he came out, without a shirt too, wearing a bright orange swim shorts.

“I see you’re putting my gym membership to good use.” Goddamn washboard abs, where did that even come from? Now that I think of it, he’s been fitting my old gym clothes better.

“You look awesome, Theo. The orange fits you nicely.” Brad said.

“I guess it’s my turn,” I said without enthusiasm.

After struggling to pull it up my ass. I walked out with the ugly print forest green trunk that’s wedged between my inner thighs; with a shirt on, thank you very much.

“Woah, look at those hefty thighs,” Brad said.

I’m out of options, and there’s no way I’m walking into another swimwear store again. So we made our way to the counter.

The day for the beach finally arrives, and I can already feel the swim trunks digging into my ass.

What’s more annoying is that Mom and Dad are now angry at me.

I would be angry at myself too.

Now I’m in a car with no AC, listening to how I should make better life choices.

“Jay, I didn’t think you would sneak off for fast food without telling us.” Mom said.

She caught the extra burgers I sneaked in to munch on at night this morning.

“Jacob, don’t you remember what I told you about garbage food?” Dad asked.

He said my full name. He never says my full name.

“If you want fried chicken you could ask mom to make it. You know it’s healthier at home.” Dad said.

“Am I not making enough, Jay?” Mom asked.

“I’m sorry Mom, I know I shouldn’t go,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it, honey. We can get through this together. If you want more fried food, Theo and I will make lots of it at home.”

“I got you, Jay,” Theo said, patting my shoulder.

We finally got to the beachside. After finding a shade to park our car, Dad struggled a bit to get out of the car. It seems like the old Toyota is seeing its last days. We might need to upgrade the car soon.

I know Dad is probably not mad at me, but his disappointment was worse.

Hopefully he can forgive me after getting some barbecue in his stomach.

We started setting up the chairs with Brad’s dad as more of my high school friends and their dads started coming in. I haven’t seen most of them since we graduated.

Dad went to greet them and it looked like he fit right in.

He was the Dad everyone’s dad was jealous of but couldn’t help to like him.

I was pretty shocked when I heard Dad wanted to come because he always declined their barbecue invites. 

He was the fittest of the group, but it looks like he is one of the heavier guys here. Dad told me he’s almost 260 pounds now, so Theo and I will probably lose again this year.

I feel conflicted. I wanted to look like Dad before when he had chiselled abs, but I also want to look like him now when he has a much larger presence with the same amount of confidence. I can’t do either correctly.

“You daydreaming, bro?” Brad said.

“It’s nothing. Let’s get the boxes out,” I replied.

“Just so you know, you can tell me whatever you want, Alright?” He said.

“Thanks man, appreciate it.”

He’s too pure to know about my problem with how my abs or belly doesn’t look right.

We got the tablecloth pinned in place to withstand the wind, then set up some disposable tableware.

“Good job, son,” Dad said as he patted my back.

I smiled for the first time today.

Brad’s dad put us on watch duty for the grill while I fought not to drool on the food. 

I’ll get my share. Old people first.

“Jacob? You’re all grown up! You’re a big boy now, almost as big as me. I bet you made your father proud.” Mr. Lancaster said. 

“Mr. Lancaster, you’re here! I didn’t know you were coming.”

He used to take me to his house with Ms. Lancaster when my mom was busy, or when Dad was substituting for other teachers.

Avery and I used to-

Wait, Avery is here?

I looked around to scan everyone.

“Oh, my boy is having a problem with his car, so he is probably not coming.” Mr. Lancaster said.

“We have the same issue too; it’s been a mess. Say hello to Avery for me, eh?”

“Of course, good to see you, Jay.” He replied.

I sighed in relief. I don’t know what to say to Avery if he comes. I missed him, but I also ignored him a couple times when I spotted him at the fast food place.

We served for an hour and a half. I probably lost the 60weight pounds I’ve gained, and my stomach is definitely deflated now.

Note to self: If I ever need to lose weight again, just stare at tasty barbecues all day just to have none of it.

“Ahem. Woah cool! Look at that shiny thing over there. I’m going to go fetch it!” Brad said suddenly, then ran off.

“Wait, you still have your-“

He ditched me.

I tried to flip over both of our grills to no avail.

“You need help?”

“Ahhhhhh!”I yelped.

Ave laughs with his usual lopsided smile.

“I thought you were,” I said.

“Dead? No. I caught an Uber.” Avery said.

“Right. Long time no see.” I reached out my hand for a shake.

“Seriously, Jay? When did you start doing that shit?” Ave said.

Same old Avery then. I took my hand back and hid a grin.

He looked so different I didn’t know how to react. By the looks of it, he’s almost doubled my weight, maybe around 450s. 

“Haven’t seen you in a while. You look good.” He said.

“You looked good too.” Now that I see him closely, it suits him, makes him look sturdy. His ass is hanging out in the back like a bra though.

“What were you up to this past year?” I asked.

“Well you know, I screwed up the football scholarship. But it’s the best thing that could’ve happened to me.” He said.

“I was pretty depressed for a bit, so I decided to go on one of the self-searching trips to some countries and states...”

Then he told me about the kind people and assholes he met on the way, as we finally sat down with our share of Barbecues.

Ave said that he got to eat food he never imagined existed, learn about cultures that changed his perspective on things.

He said he has never felt freer of any emotional constraints than he is now. I couldn't stop my smile from forming. I’m really happy for him.

He has always been harsh on himself. When school didn’t work, he dedicated his all to sports. On his way there, I felt like I lost a friend.

We talked for hours about the airplane seats being a bitch and how he’s sorry for whoever sat next to him, or about how I am addicted to fast foods and pancakes. He’s probably the only one I know that can relate.

I was lost in the conversation, with Brad interrupting occasionally with strange looks of wiggling eyebrows or smug smiles. I really don’t know what he’s on.

It’s when Dad is folding up the seats, and Brad’s dad cleans up the grill. Ave asked me.

“Wanna do this again sometime? My dad’s coffee shop has a new brownie coming up that he’s really proud of.”

Yes, of course. I wanna learn more about you and be friends again.

“Sorry, men. School is going to be busy. I also need to focus on football more this year, or I will get too fat to play.” I said.

“No problem Jay. You know I’ll always be there for you.” Avery said.

I tried to one arm hug him and he fully embraced me. His body is so warm and unbelievably soft.

For a moment, I wished I was proud like him. But I’m not free like him

Gathering supplies Dad brought, I walked back to the car, forgetting to ask for his number.

The school year started without much fanfare. But the feeling of estrangement grew.

Hanging out with the team was fun, but playing the game just doesn’t bring me the same amount of rush and anticipation anymore, instead, I look forward to the meal after the game that brings me the rush. It’s not like I was playing the game much anyway; I’m a glorified Waterboy now. My job is to refuel the Gatorade or water, then squirt it into the guys’ mouths. After that, I just need to hand them the towel and sit back to finish my hot dog. 

I know the team appreciates me. I would keep doing it for them if not for Coach’s disappointing stares. He probably thought I would be a star player like Dad, but I ended up fatter than the linebacker. I would be disappointed too.

My decision was made following the buzzing call of our defeat.

Chapter 3 ->

[kbwrites]

How the JJK Men Flirt

characters: Gojo, Nanami, Choso

⚝ content: slightly suggestive for gojo, choso is a cutie pie, Nanami will always be husband material

Satoru Gojo

Thinks he is a smooth operator

In reality, has zero rizz. Creepy rizz.

“Damn Ma, you shit with that ass?” 😩

Makes up for it with his looks and the fact that he’s loaded (wallet and pants).

“When are you gonna let me take you out on a date?” He leans against the wall looking down at you through his blindfold.

“Go away Satoru.” You slip past his arms, leaving the white-haired sorcerer speechless.

You lounge on the couch of your apartment when you hear a knock on the door. Upon opening it you see roses, snacks, and a Chanel bag on the doorstep. Attached to the flowers is a card.

‘Get ready for the BEST NIGHT EVER be there @ 7<3’

Guess you have no choice now?

Once you get past his strong personality he’s actually really sweet.

His laid-back demeanor is really just a front, Satoru is a nervous wreck when it comes to talking to women. Especially You.

Is so worried about impressing you, he buys the most expensive thing on the menu. The food ends up being way too fancy for your tastes so you guys end up at a fast food place.

Orders everything off the menu there too.

Ends up getting so sick from eating too much you have to take him home to take care of him.

That was his plan all along.

★。------ ＼｜／------。★

Kento Nanami

You can’t really tell he’s flirting??

It starts as little things he does for you.

Complaining about working late? A cup of coffee is on your desk when you get to work.

No time to grab lunch? Kento coincidentally has an extra bento.

He always plays it off though:

“I just happened to make too much food.”

“We can’t afford for you to get sick, there’s too much work to get done.”

But the truth is, he hopes you complain about something so he can swoop in and fix it. On your day off, the first one in months you decide to visit a bakery you’ve seen all over Instagram. You see a tall man in front of you… he kind of looks like-

“Kento?”

“Oh. Hello.” He turns around, recognizing your voice immediately. He looks different without a suit. “I’ve never seen you here before. Might this be your first time?”

“Yeah, I saw it online and wanted to give it a shot!” You chuckle nervously.

The line moves, it’s now Kento’s turn to order.

“I’ll have the sourdough loaf, half dozen croissants and..” He turns to you “Whatever this young lady wants.”

You end up ordering a slice of chocolate cake and a few other treats. Profusely thanking your coworker for paying, ever the gentleman.

“Thanks again, please allow me to pay you back-”

“Don’t even think about it.” He says firmly, a moment passes. “Are you heading out now? Maybe we can eat some of these together—”

“YES.”

★。------ ＼｜／------。★

Choso Kamo

Actually adorable.

Follows you around like a love-sick puppy.

You need him to jump? How high?

He notices EVERYTHING about you.

“You changed your hair today. I like it.”

“I’ve never seen you in that sweater before, its pretty.” All said with an intense blush on his face.

He doesn’t really understand why you have such an effect on him, at first he thinks you cursed him or something.

But one day he’s out with Yuji and brings it up.

“Whenever I’m with (Y/N) I don’t want to leave her side. It's like I’m drawn to her.”

His younger brother just laughs.

“Sounds like you’re in love Choso.”

Love?

Once he realizes it he just flat-out confesses. Pulls you away to a secluded spot on the school grounds. There's a bouquet of roses, a teddy bear and chocolate by the base of the tree.

Takes your hands in his and looks at you with a scared but hopeful expression.

“(Y/N).. Would you please be my girlfriend?”

And your heart swoons.

[sunlightmurdock]

Can I request from the cozy list ⋆ cuddling under a blanket and ⋆ lazy days in with Jake? With a cozy vibe please and thank you.

Five More Minutes | Jake Seresin

spooktober masterlist

synopsis: Jake takes a moment to remind himself of how glad he is to be home

warnings: mentions of loneliness on deployment, i guess. Other than that, none.

Rain beats along the glass, droplets racing each other towards the wipers. There’s a lump in his throat and the finishing chords of a Red Hot Chilli Peppers song on the radio. It’s a dark and dreary late October, and there’s a lot on his mind. 

Jake Seresin has spent sixty-five percent of the last four years away from home. He’s still getting used to the routine that comes with this new assignment. Early starts, sure — but there’s security. There are days like today, where he gets to park his truck in his own damn driveway and listen to the end of his favourite song.

He scrubs a hand over his clean-shaven jaw and looks towards the front window of his home, thinking of what he gets next. He gets to walk through his front door and follow the sound of a movie, searching room to room until he finds what he’s looking for. You.

“Well, don’t you look cozy.” 

Breaking away from the opening credits of your movie, you turn your attention to the doorway and blink. Your brows knit together as you start to feel around for your phone. He’s not due to be home for hours.  

Standing in his uniform, looking every bit as edible as he usually does, your fiancé offers you an amused smile. He raps his knuckles against the wooden doorframe as he wanders into the living room.

Droplets of rain leave spots of darkness on his khaki shirt, his hair a little damp, his boots left neatly by the front door. The rain picks up, whistling against the windows, a heavy storm rolling in from over the ocean.

You hadn’t even heard his truck pull onto the driveway over the sound of the rain hitting the windows and the TV playing.

He sees the confusion on your face.

“Got sent home. Shit weather, bunch of guys couldn’t make it in and everybody’s grounded.” His first point of call is to lean over and press his lips to your forehead, just like he had when he had left for work in the early hours of this morning, while you had still been curled up in your shared bed. 

Jake’s new assignment means that he has to be on base pretty much by the time the sun is rising. He hadn’t ever struggled to get up early, until it had meant leaving you in bed by yourself.

Smiling now, he takes advantage of the way you’re curled onto your side and smooths a hand over your ass, giving it a soft squeeze as he peeks over his shoulder towards the television.

“What are you watching?”

“Hocus Pocus. I was going to have a movie day.”

The house smells like vanilla and sugar, candles burning and casting a soft orange hue across the living room. It’s a nice day for it, and Jake can’t remember the last time he had gotten to lay around and do nothing. 

“You can still have your movie day, sweetheart.” He murmurs, patting your thigh softly as he stands back up. “You mind if I join?”

You peer up at him, brows raised. “You want to?”

“Of course I do, don’t pause the movie — I’ll be right back.”

It’s borderline unfair that he comes back in your favourite of his pairs of gray sweatpants, and the best fitting of his white t-shirts.

“Scootch.” Patting your thighs, he maneuvers over you and twists himself around until he can lay comfortably behind you. Draping one arm over your middle and the other under your head, he presses himself against your back.

You turn your face towards his outstretched wrist, breathing in the smoky scent of his lingering cologne. 

He wriggles, settling his head against the mass of throw pillows that you like to fill this couch with. It almost makes your lips quirk. He complained in the store but he seems pretty happy with them now.

He has spent plenty of time on old ships that rattle and groan, smelling like nothing but rust and harsh chemicals. Plenty of time sleeping in rooms by himself, reading every book he can get his hands on, pressing his pillow over his head to block out the sound of a dozen men snoring.

It’s easy to forget.

Since he got home, he has really thrown himself into his work. Leaving early, getting home late. Sitting in planes with the weight of the world dragging against him, or stiff office chairs, or benches in locker rooms. 

His body thanks him as he eases into all those damn throw pillows, pulling your body against him to feel your weight against his. Anchoring you to him by tightening his hold, closing his eyes — just for a moment.

“‘M glad you’re home.” Your lips brush against his wrist as his other arm gives your middle an affectionate squeeze. He watches as you adjust your blanket to cover him too, squeezing closer to fit the both of you under it. 

“Me too.” He mumbles, his throat dry. He presses a soft, slow kiss to your clothed shoulder and then rests his chin against it. 

Those scented candles flicker around him, the movie hums on, and your heart beats steadily against his chest. Man, he’s glad to be home. 

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ lips like liquorice, tongue like candy ❞

☾₊‧⁺...cw : todou aoi x fem!reader, overstimulation, marathon sex, messy sex, praise kink, dirty talk, todo bullying your insides, todo is lowkey an exhibitionist

☾₊‧⁺...a/n : i wanted to revamp this old post because i used to be the biggest todo girl back in 2021 so i wanna bring that back

“who’s my good girl? huh? say it, baby, tell me,” todo teases, his strong hands gripping your hips and pulling you back to meet each of his thrusts. the slap of his hips against your ass is rough and unforgiving, and you swear your brain is melting out of your ears.

"'s me, 's me, aoi, 'm your g-good girl," you sob, trying your best to match his thrusts. it's so cute to him, your desperation is apparent in the way your cunt is squeezing around him, trying to handle his thick cock sliding in and out of your walls. the insides of your thighs are absolutely coated in sticky slick, and thick cum, leaking out from around todo's cock and onto your bedsheets. if he was lucky enough, he'd fuck you so good that you forget you just put them on today. 

“h-honey, aoi, babyyy, ‘s too deep," you whimper, one of your hands reaching back to press against his hip. "'m gettin' too loud, aoi, 's too messy! y-you're gonna make me squirt!"

poor thing, you have no idea how loud you've been, do you? todo just felt like he'd be nice and let you try to hide it in that pillow you were hiding your face in. but it did nothing to hide your voice, and nothing to hide the filthy sounds your tight pussy was making as it strangled his cock. there's no way your neighbors haven't heard the wet squelching coming from todo’s cock pounding away at you or the sweet whines and loud moans that manage to slip out of your pretty mouth.

“aww, would that be so bad, dolly? make ‘em jealous they’re not the ones stuffing this sweet little cunt full of cock. look at ya, tryin' to fit it all in...such a greedy hole, can't get enough of my dick or my cum,” todo teases, switching from a quick pace to a hard, deep one, savoring the moans coming from you, his pretty doll.

god, you're just too cute, the way you switch up from being embarrassed and telling him to slow down to being needy and desperate, begging for him to fill you up with his hot load. just the thought of stuffing you with more cum makes him groan, cursin when he feels you squeeze down on him, pretty little hole getting wetter and wetter and—

“oh, babyyy, are you creaming? your cute little pussy creaming on me, baby doll? shit, thought I came again but ’s just you, ’s all you, making a mess of my cock like a good girl.”

you didn’t even notice that todo stops moving, too busy grinding your hips back to find that spot that makes you brainless. your hands are tangled in the sheets as each stroke gets the head of todo’s cock closer and closer to that sweet spot, that you can taste it, you can fucking taste it—

“a-aoi, h-help, please—!”

suddenly, todo’s thick hands grab your plush hips, lifting and angling them up more. not even the pillow muffles how loud you moan as his tip grinds hard against the soft spongy spot inside of you, causing you to finally break. 

“fuck, bunny, you cumming? you’re making such a mess, such a messy bunny,” todo groans, speeding up to fuck you through your orgasm. his eyes roll back as you keen his name, feeling his cock throb inside of you. you make the prettiest sounds, it's actually unfair, cunt sounding just as pretty as more of your creamy cum spills out of you, coating his cock in a milky white sheen.

“you’re soaking the fucking sheets, babe. you gonna, shit, g'nna let me make a mess inside you? hmn? just keep these hips up in the air f'me, dolly, your big guy's gonna keep you full all night long."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[cryptidghostgirl]

omg omg omg totally new silly idea- human! alastor x human! reader where they meet at a party and go outside for a walk near the pier and the moon is beautiful and… they pull out weapons on each other (specifically Alastor a knife and reader a gun) and thats when they decide to form a partner in crime partnership

And in other to keep appearances they are forced to “fake date”

Mimzy: youve been spending some time with that new girl havent you, is she your gf or smth?” chuckle

Naize 20 yr old smth Alastor trying to think of a response thats not that:...

Mimzy: OMG IS SHE?

Alastor: sureeeeee

And they aren't actually into each other until a lot later into their partnership when they’re chasing some guy and reader gets to them first and just starts going at it “hey man i think hes had enough” “YOU WANT WHAT HES HAVING???” thpe shit

and Alastor has to catch his breath and he lowkey thinks hes dying because his heart starts beating a lot, And he goes again to mimzy for advice cuz i dont think he has anu friends and shes like “oh sweetie…”

And because its quite impossible to not get attached at one point theyre in another chase and reader starts laughing hysterically like “did you see him trying to run away??? lmao” and he goes “I couldnt take my eyes off you” and then just grabs her face and SMOOCH >:)

I think its a good trope- fake dating to actual dating even if its. about. murderers- :3

A/N YOU GUYS COME UP WITH THE BEST REQUESTS JESUS CHRIST!!! Also I promise I will get to the rest of the requests this weekend, I had two exams today so this is the only thing I am gonna post. Sorry.

Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: uh, murder. Mild gore. Violence. Weapons.

Word Count: 4,460 (I went a little overboard with this one)

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

"I'll walk her home, don't worry Mimzy." Alastor was saying as Y/n pulled her coat over her shoulders.

The noises of the party still raging on filtered into the grand entryway of the house, muffled through the walls. Mimzy shot her two friends a suspicious look.

"It's nothing like that, Mimz." Y/n sighed, straightening the collar of her fur coat, "I just asked cause of all those murders in the news. Kinda freaky, don't you think? I don't really wanna be out alone at night and Al here was kind enough to offer."

Mimzy crossed her arms, eyebrows raised.

"Sure." she teased.

"Mimzy." Alastor sighed in response and she put her hands up in false surrender.

"Sorry! Sorry." she hummed playfully, "I know you two free birds would never."

Alastor rolled his eyes and, turning to Y/n, held out his arm. She took it daintily, a grateful smile on her face. The pair had just met a few hours earlier but had quickly fallen into a casual camaraderie. He lead her from the house, Mimzy calling her goodnights and wishes for their safety after their retreating forms.

It was a mostly quiet walk through the desolate midnight streets of New Orleans. Y/n hummed softly, kicking a can along with the toes of her healed shoes.

"You'll ruin them that way, wont you?" Alastor asked, feigning concern.

Y/n just shrugged.

"They're shoes. Yeah, they're nice but I wont let that stop me from living. Let's stop by the water, it's so pretty tonight."

Alastor turned slightly, looking out at the Mississippi with it's slightly turbid waters reflecting the light of the stars. He tried not to smile, it was like she wanted him to carry out his intended work. She was making it so easy for him.

"Sure."

They turned towards the rail and Y/n let go of his arm, leaning her elbows against it. She let out a sigh of longing as her eyes tracked the ripples in the surface.

Alastor watched her for a moment, the moon illuminating her features. She was a handsome woman, there was no doubt about it. It had been proved to him tenfold by the amount of prospective partners she had turned down dances with at the party in favor of drinking with him at the bar. That was not what Alastor was interested in, however. Once he was sure she was distracted, once he was sure she had no intent to take her eyes from the glowing river, he looked down. Moving his coat slightly to the side, his hand quickly found its way to the hilt of the knife he had stashed in his waistband for just such an occasion.

He pulled it out, the weight familiar, almost comforting in a sense, in his hand. There was a click. He looked up, the blade pointed to its intended target.

Y/n was facing him now, a wry smile on her face. One foot in front of the other, she took a step forward. The muzzle of the gun, the cocking of which had been the source of the noise which had drawn his attention, just a few centimeters from his chest. The tip of his knife hovered indefinitely by the open center of her coat. He chuckled in amusement, eyebrows raised.

"I thought there were a few more bodies in the news than there should have been. A gun? Really?"

Y/n shrugged.

"I'm little. I don't have the privilege of being able to overpower my victims like you."

Alastor hummed softly. A slight breeze picked up, playing with the edges of their hair.

"What a shame."

Y/n laughed lightly.

"I don't think so. It works well enough."

"Those machines are inelegant, they are detached."

"And you prefer a sense of intimacy to be involved in all your escapades?"

Alastor removed the knife, holding it up to his eyes. He turned the blade over in his hand, examining it closely. Following suit, Y/n let her hand fall to her side, the gun still cocked should an occasion arise to use it.

"I have an idea." he suddenly announced.

"Oh?" Y/n asked.

She took a step back, returning to the water's edge. Alastor followed, leaning over the railing beside her. They watched one another closely, weapons still clutched loosely in their hands.

"Yep."

"You gonna tell me what it is or am I gonna have to guess?" Y/n teased after a moment, breaking the oddly comfortable silence that had fallen after Alastor's last words.

"There have been a few times, of late, where I've come a bit... uncomfortably close to being seen."

"Getting lazy." Y/n hummed, "Or maybe just cocky."

"It seems like you could use a hand, someone with brute strength in case anything goes wrong."

She scoffed, smiling just the slightest bit.

"Are you proposing we work together?"

"You're the one who said it, not me."

Y/n shook her head slightly, amused.

"How would I know you wouldn't just turn on me? End up killing me or decide not to step in if I needed help?"

"And how would I know that you wouldn't rat me out? Alert someone to where I was and what I was doing rather than telling me someone was coming? It's called trust, Y/n."

Y/n thought it over, fiddling with the gun in her grip as she did so. Alastor watched, seeing the gears turning in her mind through the light of her eyes.

"Fine." she said at last, un-cocking the gun and holding a hand out to him, "You've got yourself a deal."

Alastor smiled, slipping the knife back into his belt before grasping her hand in his. It was chilled by the air of the January night enveloping them.

"Deal."

Y/n quickly learned Alastor's preferred demographic. He had a penchant for angry men, drunks. Y/n had been a one off, a spur of the moment opportunity he had thought to take hold of. Alastor had not been like that for her. Y/n's preferred victims were also men. Anyone that showed any pressing interest in her, anyone who tried to take her home for the night, always ended up six feet under. For both, murder was a way of processing their personal experiences and traumas.

As a result of their deal, Y/n and Alastor began to spend more time together. They had to learn one another's intricacies, their ways of thinking, their nature of being. It was a necessity if anything was actually going to work. They both had rather busy work schedules, Alastor as a radio broadcaster with his very own show and Y/n as a seamstress at a local dress shop. Because of this, more often than not, the only time they had to get to know one another was through shared meals. Both of them had to eat, needed a lunch break or dinner. It was just what worked. Because of their slightly shared demographic of victim, they ended up in bars together quite frequently as well.

It was in one of these meet ups that they ran into their first difficulty. Y/n was sitting across a table from him outside a cafe, lazily sipping on a coffee as she perused the missing persons list in a newspaper. The newspaper was old, they were exchanging information about who was responsible for what. Working together didn't just mean knowing one another as they were now, but their histories as well.

They should have known not to sit in such a public place. Both had many connections in the city due to their jobs, though few friends. It just so happened on that day that the one true friend they did have in common was walking down the very street they sat on.

"Alastor?" Mimzy exclaimed, catching sight of his familiar face and moving towards their table.

Y/n folded the newspaper, placing it on the table as she turned towards the sound. Mimzy came to a stop, her brow furrowing in mild confusion as she saw her friend was not in fact alone.

"And Y/n, fancy meeting you two here."

"Pull up a chair, Mimz." Y/n smiled and Mimzy obeyed.

Swinging a spare chair from a nearby table, she quickly joined them.

"I haven't seen you two since the party! How have you been."

"Fine, fine." Alastor hummed and Y/n nodded her assent.

"And whats this with you two getting coffee?" Mimzy asked, a teasing smile slipping onto her face as Alastor took a sip of his own drink, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, not at all Mimz." Y/n shook her head, a slight smile on her face, "It's always a pleasure to see you."

"You sure this isn't a date or something? I mean, with the way you two left and everything... having coffee alone..."

Alastor nearly choked on his drink. Y/n and Mimzy turned to him as he put a hand to his chest, clearing his throat.

"Excuse me." he said and Mimzy's grin widened.

"Oh this is totally a date."

"No!" Alastor exclaimed, exchanging a fervent glance with Y/n across the table.

She raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. Without words, she told him to handle it. Alastor sighed.

"Are you sure?" Mimzy asked, a suggestive tone to her voice.

"I... uh..." Alastor stuttered, his brain working in overdrive to think of anything else. It came up empty, "Fine. Yes. We're... we're on a date."

"You caught us." Y/n chimed in and Mimzy turned to her.

"Oh my stars! You two.... I shoulda guessed you'd get on like a house on fire. Shame I can't invite you to any more of my singles parties though Y/n, you are a riot."

Singles parties. A hunting ground. Y/n smiled.

"No, no, Mimz. We're not exclusive or anything."

Mimzy's eyes widened slightly at the revelation as Alastor shot Y/n a look across the table. Dating was going to be hard for them to sell but swingers too? What was she thinking.

"Really? How exotic." Mimzy hummed in thought.

"We're all going to hell anyways so, why not." Y/n shrugged.

"Oh you." Mimzy laughed, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder as she got to her feet, "Well, I won't keep you love birds any longer. I'll see you next week for the next party then?"

"We'll see." Alastor hummed placidly.

Once Mimzy had gone, he rounded on Y/n.

"Swingers?" he asked, eyebrows raised, "Really?"

"Hey, you're the one who started the whole 'we're dating' thing." Y/n sighed, picking the newspaper back up and resuming the task at hand, "I just made it easier for us."

"It will utterly destroy my reputation if this gets out you know."

Y/n shot him a look over the top of the paper.

"Al, you got a lot more to worry about than pretending to be a swinger in terms of your reputation. Now, Marcus Alcost? Six four, buff, scar on his left forearm? Brown hair?"

"Blue eyes?"

"Umm... yeah."

"Yep, that was me."

"Nice. Musta been a tough one to take down."

Alastor would track men, following them out as they left the establishments in the small hours of the morning with the intent of returning to their families. He would stalk them, corner them, lead them in. Y/n would stand watch, alerting him at the first sign of trouble.

The moment she heard footsteps, chatter, Y/n would duck in. Grabbing Alastor by the arm, she would whisk him off in some random direction, having consistently used the time she was on lookout to scout for escape routes.

They had had a few close calls, one or two times he had had to press her up against a wall and pretend to kiss her to avoid prying eyes. They always had a good laugh after something like that. Mostly, things worked out well. They each had survived on their own for years at this point. They knew what they were doing, adding another person into the mix just made it a tad easier.

Y/n, on the other hand, didn't need to track her victims down, they did that work for her. She would dress up all pretty and the moment someone asked to take her home or something of the like, would agree. Then she'd pull them into some ally or another under the guise of not wanting to wait a second longer and attack. Alastor would stand behind her, arms crossed menacingly as she carried out her work. He threatened so she could perform and she never had any trouble thanks to him.

That was, until one night about a year into their little partnership. As the time had passed, their relationship had grown. They still held the ruse of dating up before anyone who asked why it was they each spent so much time with the other but, a real friendship had begun to blossom between them as well. As it turns out, they had a lot more in common than just a tendency to commit brutal murders. Y/n knew Alastor well by now, better than anyone else most likely, and he knew her as well. That was how he could tell something was wrong.

Y/n had given Alastor the usual signal from across the bar and he had settled his tab. As he followed the pair, Y/n and the tall man whose hand she held, Alastor had noticed something was off. Normally by this point Y/n was stumbling around, pretending to be drunk and ditzy. She was doing this very thing now but in a more halted and jagged way. The man she was with seemed more believably drunk than she was, swaying this way and that. Her movements were uncharacteristically harsh as she pulled the man into the ally about a block ahead of him.

Alastor picked up the pace, breaking into a light jog. He reached the ally and turned down it, expecting to see Y/n flirting with the man or with her gun out already. Instead, he was met with something entirely different.

At the back of the ally lay the huddled mass of the man. On top of him was Y/n. The thuds of her knuckles against his face was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. She hit him, again and again. Alastor stood there, stunned.

"Dear, whatever is the matter?" he asked at last, trying to wrap his head around the situation.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"Y/n."

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He could see the splatters of blood now, on the ground around them and the wall behind. The thuds included the occasional squelch, the crack of a bone.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"You'll ruin your hands for work tomorrow if you keep at this."

Still, she ignored him. There was a sickening crunch. Sighing, he approached.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He could see it now, the man's mutilated face. Part of his skull looked like it had caved in. He had stopped moving long ago.

"Y/n, dear," Alastor tentatively reached out a hand towards her shoulder as he spoke, "don't you think he has had enough?"

Y/n whipped around to him, her eyes wild and her bloody raw knuckles raised. He froze, his hand hovering above her shoulder. There was blood everywhere. It soaked the sleeves of her collard shirt, it dripped from her fingers, it decorated her face and her bared teeth.

"What, you fucking want some too?"

Alastor's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded against his ribcage, begging for escape. It wasn't fear, it couldn't be. He could take this girl down in ten seconds flat, blood hungry as she was.

Y/n's eyes, sharp with violence, softened slightly as she saw his reaction. She let her hands fall, resting them on the man's chest.

"He tried to drug me." she revealed, turning her eyes back to her mess, her masterpiece.

"He what?"

"Yeah." she sighed, using the back of her hand to push her hair from her eyes, leaving a residue of blood in the wake of the movement, "I caught him, switched the drinks."

Alastor shifted his gaze to the man before falling on Y/n once again. Her face was blank now, all the rage gone.

"He tried to drug me." she said again, her voice hollow.

At last, his hand found its home on her shoulder and she turned to face him once again. Alastor extended his free hand to Y/n. She examined it for a moment before daintily placing one of her own in his and allowing him to help her to her feet. Both her hands now rested in his as they looked back at the remains of the man.

"Well, he's definitely dead."

Alastor let go of Y/n's hands. Now free, he used one of them to turn her face to his. Blood spattered, wide eyed, lips slightly parted -- his heart fought for freedom from his chest once again.

"He deserved it."

Alastor let go of Y/n's chin and used the cuff of his jacket to wipe some of the blood from her face.

"Can you walk me home?"

Normally if she had asked something like that, Alastor would have teased her to no end. Why be scared of the monsters in the dark when she herself was one of them? But her voice had been small, timid. She had avoided his eyes and his fingers tingled at the prospect of her viewing him as protector.

"Of course, my dear."

They did not have another planned meeting until two weeks from that day. Y/n had a big project at work and wouldn't have any spare time because of it. Alastor, normally restless at the idea of having to wait so long to satisfy his bloodlust either by killing or seeing the show of death, was grateful for the respite. He was confused, overwhelmed even, because his strange reactions, the change in his patterns of thought towards the girl, hadn't ended at Y/n's front door.

No, she was haunting him. Like a vengeful ghost, he saw her in his mind. She took up every waking moment, he didn't know what to do. Alastor waited a day and still, it persisted. The skip of his heart, the odd slightly sick feeling in his stomach at the thought of their reunion. He waited three days and it didn't stop. By the time the end of the week rolled around and Alastor still found himself smiling at the prospect of only having to wait another week not to kill but to see Y/n again, he did the unthinkable. It was the only option he could come up with. Besides Y/n, she was the only other person in the world he even half trusted. Alastor called Mimzy.

"Alastor, darling!" she excitedly exclaimed into the phone, "What a surprise! What can I do for you?"

"Yeah, hey Mimzy. Um..." he struggled to find the words, fiddling with the phone cord as he walked to the window, looking down at the street below, "I just... I need your advice about something."

"What is it, hun?" she immediately replied, "Seems its got you in a tizzy, not a lot can do that."

"I... It's about Y/n."

"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?"

"No. Maybe?" he turned from the window, collapsing in his desk chair, "I don't know."

"Spill."

"Well, we... I just.... Mimz, I can't stop thinking about her."

"Well I would hope not, you've been together for almost a year now."

"Yeah well, about that. It may have been a... stretching of the truth? Shall we say?"

"Al." Mimzy warned after a moment's silence, "If you are playing with this gi-"

"No!" he exclaimed, cutting her off and quickly crafting an excuse, "No. It was just to get our parents off our backs. We had a deal. They were both pestering us about when we were gonna get married, you know how it is."

"I thought your dad was dead?"

"My ma though, she really wants to see me settled down."

"I guess that explains the swingers thing." Mimzy sighed, "It didn't really seem in character for either of you. So, whats the matter?"

"I told you, I can't stop thinking about her. It's like... it's like... look, we're not dating, but we're friends, you know? And we were out at a bar together a few nights ago and she just... she did something and when I looked at her, it was like I died."

"That little minx." Mimzy laughed in glee, "What the heck did she do?"

"Just something, okay?"

"I have got to quiz her about this."

"No! Please, no. She'd... probably be embarrassed."

"Mmm... okay...." came Mimzy's doubtful reply, "So what was it you needed help with?"

"Well, that. It was like the breath had left my body entirely. I felt... sick, my chest hurt. It was so strange. I thought it would go away once I got some sleep but it didn't. Every time I think about her, it feels like there is a vice around my heart and I can't stop thinking about her."

"Al, seriously? This is what you're asking me about?"

"Yeah?" he uncertainly replied after a moment.

"What are you, twelve?"

"Mimzy, are you going to help or not?"

She sighed.

"Alastor, you have a crush on her."

A beat.

"I do not."

"Yes, you do. Maybe even more."

"I..." his brow furrowed, his breath left his body.

This was bad. This could be dangerous, detrimental even.

"Are you sure?"

"Butterflies in your stomach? Pains in your chest? Can't get her out of your mind? You're even breathless for christ's sake Al. It's textbook first pangs of love."

"Fuck."

Mimzy laughed.

"You're already pretend dating, what harm would asking her to do the real thing with you do? My bet is, she's probably been feeling the same thing about you. That tends to happen in cases like yours, I've seen it before. The whole 'fake love turns real' trope. It's overdone if you ask me."

"Mimzy, this isn't one of your trashy romance novels. This is my life."

"So live it radio man! Go get that girl."

Alastor was nervous, trembling even as he sat at the bar. His glass of whiskey had gone warm on the table as he watched Y/n dancing and having fun in the crowd. This was how it usually went when it was his turn to hunt, she'd have fun and he'd find a target. Once the target left, he'd grab her and they'd move out.

Tonight he was distracted and it showed. The man had nearly given them the slip. With Alastor's knife still sticking out of his shoulder, he had ducked away and started running. Of course that meant Alastor and Y/n had to give chase. They ran after him through the streets of New Orleans as he screamed bloody murder and Y/n's heels clicked definitively on the ground. He was thankful that the hour was late and no one was out and about, thankful the man was so drunk his words came out closer to garbled singing than pleas for help, thankful he was slowed by his consumption.

When they at last caught up with him, Alastor grabbed his second knife from his belt and, taking the man's hurt shoulder in his free hand, buried it deep in the man's back. He fell to the floor, sputtering, coughing up blood. In a few moments he was still. Alastor turned to Y/n, panting.

Her pretty eyes traced a path between murderer and victim a handful of times before a smile broke out onto her face. Before he could really register what was happening, she was doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach.

Alastor watched Y/n, eyebrows raised as they both caught their breath. After about a minute, she straightened up and turned to him, wiping a tear from her eye.

"What?" Alastor asked with a wry smile, "What is so funny about a dead man."

"He..." she broke out into laughter again, "He... the way he ran! And we almost lost him?! Oh my god, Al, that coulda been so bad."

"The way... he ran?"

"He... didn't you see it? Oh my god, it was so funny. Like he was running in a three legged race with an invisible partner." she wheezed.

Alastor felt the heat pooling in his cheeks. Mimzy was right, it was time for him to live his life. A normal existence could coexist with his hobby, Y/n had already proved that to him.

"Didn't you see?" she asked again.

"No." he shook his head, "I was... I was watching you."

"You were... Al, theres no way you were." Y/n scoffed, "No way. If you were watching me, he would have gotten away. If you were watching me, it would meant that you were unconcerned by your oh-so-precious reputation being ruined. If you were watching me, it would mean..."

She trailed off as he took a step closer to her, his gaze flicking between her eyes and her lips. Y/n's cheeks flushed pink.

"Alastor."

Her voice was a dying prayer. Reaching a trembling hand up, he laid it on the back of her head, his fingers tangling with her hair as she looked up at him with wide eyes. Alastor closed the gap.

He had been so scared. Scared she would push him away, that she wouldn't kiss back. Even a little bit scared he'd just become the next name on her list of degenerate men she'd killed.

There was a moment, a split second, where his fears were realized. Then, she washed them all away. Hands buried in the lapel of his jacket, she pulled him closer, Y/n leaned in.

They broke apart after a moment, their cheeks flushed and utterly breathless.

"I-"

"Would you like to go on a date with me, Y/n?"

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Are you going to try to kill me again?"

"Oh please, I thought we'd moved past that darling."

Y/n smiled, still holding him close. Alastor let his hands fall onto her waist as they swayed slightly under the light of the moon.

"Yes Alastor. I will let you take me on a date."

"We will not be swingers."

Y/n laughed.

"Just had to make that clear."

"No, Alastor. If I am going to get you, I want you all to myself. Now, what are we going to do about that body?"

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Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 2