#maybe i’ll turn this into one of those sometime
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deviouz · 1 day ago
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Jason with a chubby! fem readerrr pls pls pls!!
Him admiring her as if she were an angel descended on earth and being genuinely surprised and confused that she doesn't really see that much appeal in her body like he does, but he has a way of showing his sweetheart just how beautiful she is (he may or may not has bought a floor length mirror and positioned it riiight in front of their bed <33)
Xoxo
thank you for indulging in my chubby chaser jason fantasies <3
if there’s one thing jason is good at, it’s making you feel beautiful. hell, beautiful might be an understatement with the way he worships the ground you walk on and gazes at you with nothing but pure love and devotion.
sometime’s he can see you staring longingly at outfits while out shopping, and he’s all to quick to force those negative thoughts out of your head. he’ll encourage you to try them on, narrows his eyes when he knows you’re about to say something rude about yourself, and insists on buying it because all he wants is for you to see yourself the way he sees you — drop dead gorgeous and utterly perfect.
truth be told, jason loves his partners to have a little more meat on their bones, so to speak. there’s something about the way your eyes widen and face gets all flushed when he picks you up, sometimes completely out of the blue, and spins you around like you weigh nothing.
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“jay, put me down! i’m too—”
“don’t you even think about finishing that sentence unless you’d like not being able to walk for the rest of the week.”
he’ll put you up on the counter and slide his hands under the sundress he had bought you, fingers gripping into the plush of your thighs until they’re parting to make room for him. you’re still too flustered to look him in the eye, lips curled into a slight pout and cheeks all puffed up.
“come on, sweetheart, don’t give me that look. you and i both know that i could easily bench double your weight without breaking a sweat.”
you can’t really fault him there, especially not when he’s slinging you over his shoulder and waltzing off to the bedroom. the asshole even has the audacity to laugh at your incessant demands to put me down! and the so-called-punches you threw at his toned back.
another thing jason todd was particularly good at was fucking those mean thoughts right out of your pretty little head.
ever the adventurous one, you and jason have tried your fair share of positions in the bedroom, though his favorite had to be reverse cowgirl. he loves having you perch on his lap right at the end of the bed, hands roaming your naked form with fervor, all the while he has you gaze into the mirror hung on the wall just across from you both. it was tall and expensive and oh-so-perfect to gaze at the sheer size difference between you and your boyfriend.
“so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” jason whispers, rough hands grabbing at the fat of your hips with need. “so perfect for me.”
you’re already at your wits end, throbbing with need around all eight inches of his cock nestled deep in your cunt, lips swollen from the way you kept tugging them between your teeth. it was hard to keep still, hips itching to move, but jason kept you from doing so.
“jason, please—”
“ah, ah, ah. you know the drill.”
giving a desperate whine, you threw your head back against his shoulder and rolled your hips. “you’re the worst.”
one of jason’s hands trailed up to grab at your neck, lips pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head as he gave a soft chuckle. “don’t be a brat and maybe i’ll give you what you want.”
“maybe?”
“mhmm. i’m sure if you said it sweet enough i could be convinced otherwise.”
huffing out a puff of air, you turned your gaze back to the mirror. jason’s hand trailed from your neck to your chest, giving your breasts some much needed attention while you stared at the reflection, embarrassment trickling into your nerves.
“i… i’m beautiful.”
his hand slowly slid down to your stomach, sharp eyes staring at your own in the mirror. “and?”
“and pretty.”
“and?”
“…gorgeous?”
“and?”
“and if you don’t fuck me within the next two seconds, i’m gonna—”
before you could even finish your sentence, jason gave a sudden thrust of his hips, forcing his cock all the deeper — deep enough to have the tip brushing at an all-too-sensitive spot and your eyes start to roll back.
“yeah? what are you gonna do, princess?”
his thrusts didn’t stop after the first. if anything, he was just getting started.
“gonna go try to get yourself off?”
“n-no, jay!”
the sound of skin-against-skin soon filled the room, coupled with his teasing words and your pleasure-filled noises.
“you sure ‘bout that?”
the quick nods from your head had him smirking, hands grabbing at the plush of your hips with a possessive touch. he held you tight and fucked up into you like an animal in heat, like he was desperate to leave a mark on you to show everyone else who you belonged to — who he belonged to, too.
“promise, i swear,” words were becoming harder to form with the way he relentlessly pounded up into your warm heat, “no one— ah! fucks me like you!” your arousal was more than evident with the way slick began to coat your inner thighs, a creamy white ring appearing around the base of his cock with every thrust.
“that’s my good girl.”
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knivestothroats · 13 hours ago
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The Professionals - Allowances
The Professionals is a crossover of In the Woods Somewhere by me and Professional//Victim by @victimeyez In which Tommy tries to spend his allowance CW: long term captivity, unfair rules
Fletcher was cooking, rolling a pan of mixed vegetables around in a blend of butter, balsamic vinegar, and white wine. They heard Tommy carefully padding in behind them, giving him a glance before returning their focus to their work. 
“Don’t eat too much, dinner is almost ready and I made enough for you.”
“It smells really good, thank you, Fletcher,” Tommy murmured back. “Can I help?”
“No, just come back when I whistle.”
“Oh, okay, thank you.”
They could feel him hovering behind them. He didn’t leave, instead opting to clutch a few pieces of paper hands to his chest and wait awkwardly. Fletcher gave him a minute to say his piece, draining the pasta in the sink before returning it to the pan. Still, Tommy waited. They felt an itch of annoyance.
“Do you need something, or did you just think I needed supervision?”
Tommy tucked a stray curl behind his ear, giving a nervous laugh. “Ah, no, of course not. I just was thinking that maybe, well, I just was wondering if, um–”
“Spit it out.”
Tommy swallowed and forced himself to take a deep breath. He didn’t want to invoke Fletcher’s ire with his waffling. 
“Um, would it be okay for me to ask about, maybe sometime talking about my allowance…?”
Fletcher poured in ingredients purely by feel. It wasn’t an exact science, but they were comfortable in the kitchen. They stirred, taste testing as they went. 
“What about it.”
“Uh…” Tommy rubbed his arms to soothe himself, but Fletcher could tell he was anxious. Then again, “anxious” was pretty much his base state. 
“It’s been, you know, several weeks, and I was thinking about things I might be able to spend it on.”
“It must have slipped my mind. Have you finished paying me back for your music?” Fletcher had allowed Tommy to “buy” an old walkman, headphones, and some tapes from them. 
They had pressed the bundle into his hands, which Tommy received eagerly. He looked over his meager possessions with a look of awe, like he still couldn’t believe he was actually allowed to own something.
“Twenty bucks.” Tommy nodded eagerly, feeling the worn pad of one of the headphones between two fingers with reverence. “Enjoy.”
Fletcher caught the tip of his chin with one finger, pushing his face up to force eye contact. Where Buck had often challenged their gaze, Tommy avoided it, his eyes flicking side to side before nervously meeting their gaze. 
“Hey. If I call for you, and you don’t come, because you were listening to music? They’re gone. Understood?”
Tommy looked hurt by the threat, his eyes darting back down and to the side, but readily agreed. “Yes, Fletcher.” 
“Good,” they had told him, and left it at that. So far Tommy had kept to his word, often wearing the headphones askew to help keep his ears open when he was set off on his tasks. 
“Those are paid off now. By - by my calendar. Thank you, again.” Fletcher hummed a noncommittal sound of acknowledgement. 
“I was just wondering if, if you have thought about it, how that kind of system might work? Like…is it just things I can pick up on a supply run, or buy online or– or that sort of thing. Just so I know what I can maybe, save up for.”
They turned to face him, leaning against the counter and folding their arms. Tommy had settled at the table, a pencil in hand at the ready over his little stack of notes. 
“I guess I could save a little time for you to look around the grocery store next time we are on a supply run. I’ll consider online purchases, but nothing comes to the house, so you’ll have to wait for a supply run to collect it from the PO box in town. And you know the computer is off limits to you. I will allow a little time to look online, but only under supervision.” Tommy scribbled down notes as Fletcher spoke.
“You can take notes, I can appreciate wanting to keep them in mind, but just know that doesn’t mean it’s law. Everything is subject to change, of course.” Tommy nodded as he finished writing, looking back up when he was done. 
“What…kind of things am I allowed to buy?”
Fletcher returned to stirring, mostly just to make sure the last things were mixed evenly. 
“I don’t know. What do you want to buy?”
“A bike? I could just ride around the grounds a little.”
Fletcher shook their head. “So you can try to take off on me? No, no bikes.”
“Okay…” Fletcher heard him scribbling something out behind them. “How about a skateboard?”
Fletcher let out a hmph of a laugh. “What did I just say? Same problem, no wheels.”
“But – I’m really bad at skateboarding, I couldn’t go anywhere,” Tommy whined a little. 
“All the more reason not to do it. Besides, I don’t need you falling off and injuring yourself, you’re no use to me if you can’t work.” 
Tommy swallowed, his answer delayed. “Oh,” was all he gave, and his voice was quieter. Fletcher didn’t really mean to call him useless, they just hadn’t phrased it right. It wouldn’t have bothered anyone else, but Tommy was so damn sensitive. They rolled their eyes.
“Let’s just say, no vehicles. Add that to your notes. What else you got?”
Tommy made some notes and crossed out another line. “How about clothes?”
“I gave you clothes,” Fletcher said bluntly.
“Yeah, I mean - I’m grateful for that, of course. Just – I don’t know, my own…style? Some of them don’t really fit…” 
“I just think you need to be practical over fashionable,” Fletcher argued. “You’re living and working in the woods; it’s not like you’re going anywhere you need to dress up or show off. Unless you’re planning on giving Buck a fashion show.” 
Tommy blanched like Fletcher had caught him doing something bad. He looked down and crossed out another line curtly. 
“Okay…well…” Tommy considered his list. Fletcher could tell he was getting frustrated, could hear a little anger in his voice in spite of his attempts to swallow it down. He could be pissed all he wanted, Fletcher would almost encourage it just to see a little spirit, but getting an allowance at all was generous. Fletcher would let him spend it when he thought of something actually worth spending it on. And with a solid paycheck of just five dollars a week, it’s not like he had many options. 
“It’s still a while away, so I could save up for it, but I’d like to get Buck something for Christmas.” Tommy seemed determined on this one. 
Fletcher groaned, finishing the last touches for dinner. “Don’t do that.”
Tommy let out an impatient huff through his nose. “Why not?”
“Buck lives out in the –” Fletcher had to stop themself from calling it the real world. “Buck is free out there, he has his own job and makes his own money. Don’t waste yours on something he could buy himself for like, a few hours of work. Besides, he already gets enough of my money, he doesn’t need any more.”
Tommy rose to his feet, shoving his chair out of his way. “What’s the fucking point of giving me an allowance if you’re never going to let me use it anyways?!” 
Fletcher turned at the commotion to find Tommy visibly seething with his notes crumpled in his hands. His eyes were dark, glaring at Fletcher with an open hostility that he’d never let slip before. 
Fletcher rolled their eyes. “Stop acting like a child.”
“Then stop treating me like one!” Tommy shouted, and with a sudden fury, he drove a fist right into the wall. The drywall swallowed his hand down to the wrist, and when he pulled it out, little chips and debris rained down from the hole in Fletcher’s kitchen wall. 
Fletcher was so surprised that Tommy had actually lashed out that they stood there, their mouth agape for a moment. Tommy retracted his fist robotically to look at it, pale with powder from the drywall. Blood was starting to ooze out of a couple split knuckles. He was shaking with anger, his shoulders moving up and down with fast, excited breaths.
“Go to your room!” Fletcher snapped back. They pinched the bridge of their nose and sighed. “Goddamn it, you make me sound like a mom. Get the fuck out of my sight, I’ll deal with you later.” 
As pissed as he was, Tommy stalked off in the direction of his room. Fletcher massaged their temples, staring at the fist-sized gape that Tommy had left. That little shit. 
“Something smells good,” Billy commented, walking into the kitchen, then, “Whoa.” He spotted the hole in the wall and looked at Fletcher, throwing a thumb over his shoulder at it. 
“Redecorating?”
@suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter
@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery
@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds
@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday
@defire @jumpywhumpywriter @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees
@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @paperprinxe @desert-dyke
@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @cursedandtired
@whump-only @misspelledwitch @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump
@thatsthewhump @utopian819 @pretty-face-breaker @thesuffererrrr
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bradleysass · 1 day ago
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Pine - @black-brothers-microfic - wc: 650 - Starchaser + Sirius
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James Potter had always been a man with a plan. That plan, however, had been spectacularly failing for five years.
For five long years, he had been in love with Regulus Black. Five years of subtle glances, charming grins, and carefully placed love notes scribbled onto napkins, sticky notes, and sometimes, on the corner of Regulus’s meticulously organized notebooks. And for five years, Regulus had responded with the same level of enthusiasm one would give to an unsolicited email—mildly annoyed at best, completely indifferent at worst.
James had held onto hope, of course. How could he not? He was James Potter—stupidly optimistic, annoyingly persistent, and tragically in love with his best mate’s younger brother. And now, by some cruel twist of fate (or perhaps Sirius’s own misguided attempt at playing matchmaker), Regulus had moved into their shared flat.
If James thought he had trouble getting Regulus’s attention before, it was nothing compared to the obstacle of a closed bedroom door.
Regulus was a ghost in their flat. He emerged only in the dead of night to make tea, moving like a shadow through their kitchen, and somehow always managed to slip back into his room before James could so much as croak out a greeting.
Sirius, of course, found the whole thing hilarious. “Mate, I think it’s time to admit defeat.” He was lounging on the sofa, watching James stare longingly at Regulus’s firmly shut door like a dog left out in the rain.
James groaned and flopped down next to him. “There has to be a way. I mean, what do I have to do? I’ve tried everything. I left him handwritten notes, I bought him coffee—”
“You left those notes anonymously, didn’t you?” Sirius pointed out, smirking.
“Yeah, because it’s romantic,” James argued. “Mystery, intrigue, all that.”
Sirius snorted. “He probably thinks they’re from a serial killer.”
James groaned again and buried his face in a pillow. “I’m doomed.”
“No, you’re just painfully bad at this.” Sirius patted his back, far too amused by the whole thing. “But lucky for you, I’m feeling generous. Reg tends to come out when I’m not home. So, tomorrow, I’ll be conveniently out for the evening.”
James lifted his head. “You mean—?”
“You get your shot, mate.”
It was a shot James would not waste.
The next evening, James found himself strategically stationed in the kitchen, waiting. And sure enough, at precisely ten past midnight, Regulus emerged, clad in his usual oversized sweater, hair slightly messy from sleep.
James held his breath as Regulus moved toward the kettle, seemingly unaware of his presence. That was, until James cleared his throat.
Regulus froze mid-motion, eyes flicking up to meet James’s, and for the first time in five years, James didn’t look away.
“Hey,” James said, voice softer than he intended.
Regulus’s fingers curled around his mug. “You’re awake.”
James grinned. “I live here.”
Regulus hummed, noncommittal, and turned back to his tea.
“Look,” James started, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m just gonna say it—five years is a long time to pine, and frankly, I’m exhausted.”
Regulus blinked, clearly caught off guard. “You… what?”
James took a deep breath. “I like you, Reg. A lot. Always have. I left those notes because I was too much of a coward to say it to your face. But you’re here now, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t want you to notice me.”
Silence. James’s heart pounded. And then—
“I noticed.”
James stared. “You—what?”
Regulus exhaled, looking down at his tea like it held all the answers. “I knew they were from you. I just… didn’t know what to do with it.” He finally met James’s gaze, and for the first time, there was something there—uncertainty, maybe, but also something warm, something hopeful. “But I’m noticing you now.”
James’s breath hitched. “Yeah?”
Regulus gave the smallest of nods. “Yeah.”
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db0xtae · 1 day ago
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Winning the Breakup | Chapter 14
- Minho (Xo Minho) X Kitty
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;༊ Summary : Y/N, a talented and athletic after an intense breakup, Y/N reluctantly agrees to fake date Minho, to make their exes jealous. What begins as a mutual arrangement soon turns complicated when their fake relationship starts to feel all too real. With humor, bickering, and tender moments, Minho and Y/N's journey proves that sometimes the best way to heal from heartbreak is to allow yourself to fall in love.
;༊ Warnings : None
;༊ WC : 1,253
;༊ Previous Chapters : 12 & 13
;༊ A/N : Chapter 14 is the last chapter but, I’m thinking of writing three extra cute chapters. What do you guys think? Hope you guys enjoy!!
꒰ᐢ. ̫ .ᐢ꒱
Chapter 14: The End of the Beginning
The sun was setting over KISS as the final bell of the semester rang, signaling the start of winter break. Students poured out of their classrooms, ready to head home or off to their various holiday plans. The campus was alive with chatter and excitement, but amidst the chaos, Minho and Y/N found themselves in a little corner of the school grounds—just the two of them, away from the noise. It felt like the perfect ending to a chapter in their lives. A chapter that had been filled with moments of uncertainty, laughter, and most importantly, a whole lot of growth.
“Are you sure you’re ready for the holidays?” Minho asked, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he leaned against a tree, watching Y/N who was furiously scribbling something in her notebook. She looked up at him, her expression half-exasperated, half-amused.
“Yeah,” Y/N replied, rolling her eyes but her smile giving her away. “I’m ready to eat my weight in food, sleep for at least twelve hours a day, and watch way too many K-dramas.”
Minho chuckled, taking a step closer. “Sounds like a perfect break. No exams or last-minute assignments?”
“Don’t jinx it,” Y/N said, narrowing her eyes at him but smiling all the same. “I swear, if I get one more surprise assignment after all this… I’m going to lose it.”
“Well, just know I’m here to keep you company when you inevitably procrastinate,” Minho teased, his voice dripping with affection. He reached over to gently tug at her hair, a playful glint in his eyes.
Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically, but there was a warmth in her chest that she couldn’t deny. It had been a whirlwind since they’d admitted they were no longer just playing the “fake dating” game. Things had shifted so much between them, and now, a few weeks into their real relationship, it felt like they were in a place where everything was falling into place. They had figured out how to balance school, their social lives, and, well, them.
“Speaking of which,” Minho continued, “I know you’re excited for the holidays, but… I was thinking… Do you want to spend New Year’s Eve with me?”
Y/N blinked, startled by the question. “New Year’s Eve? With you? What do you have in mind?”
Minho’s eyes twinkled with a mischievous glint. “Well, I was thinking of a quiet night—just the two of us, maybe a movie marathon, junk food, and, of course, midnight snacks. You in?”
Y/N couldn’t suppress the small laugh that bubbled up from her chest. “You’re asking me to spend New Year’s Eve with you alone? No grand parties or fireworks?”
“Not unless you want to make it more complicated,” Minho said with a grin. “But, honestly, I think it’s time we had some quiet time together. Just us.”
Y/N’s heart fluttered. She loved how considerate he was, how he had always been thoughtful about what she wanted, even when it came to small things like this. “That sounds perfect,” she said softly. “I’ll even let you pick the movies, but don’t make it all action films.”
Minho raised an eyebrow in mock offense. “What’s wrong with action movies? I’m trying to teach you about real cinema.”
“Real cinema?” Y/N said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Please, I’ll teach you about the wonders of rom-coms and tear-jerkers, and we can have a whole marathon of those.”
“Deal,” Minho said with a nod, before leaning in closer to her. “But only if you let me buy the snacks. I promise I won’t get anything too weird.”
Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You’re on,” she said, pulling him into a playful hug. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Minho’s arms wrapped around her, holding her gently but with a possessive kind of care that made her heart skip. “Can’t wait,” he murmured against her hair. “It’s going to be nice. Just you, me, and a mountain of snacks.”
Y/N grinned, pulling back slightly to look up at him. “Sounds like the best way to spend the night. No drama, no fake dating—just us.”
Minho’s smile softened. “Exactly. We’ve been through so much in such a short time. And you know, I’ve realized that I’m really glad it was with you.”
The tenderness in his voice made Y/N’s stomach flutter, and she leaned up to kiss him lightly on the lips. When they pulled apart, she looked at him with a sparkle in her eyes. “Same here, Minho. Same here.”
Just as they were about to start walking back to the main campus, they heard footsteps behind them. Turning around, they saw the familiar faces of their friends approaching, their expressions curious.
“Hey!” Dae called out, a playful grin on his face. “Are you two lovebirds finally done with your secret rendezvous?”
“Secret rendezvous?” Y/N teased, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what you think this is?”
Q snickered, nudging Dae. “It’s only a secret if we pretend it is.”
Yuri rolled her eyes, but there was a softness to her gaze as she looked at Minho and Y/N. “So, what’s going on? We’ve heard all about your fake relationship, but now that it’s real, are we supposed to throw you guys a party or something?”
Y/N laughed, feeling her heart swell with affection for her friends. “Not a party,” she said, turning to Minho, who was still grinning at her. “But we’ve got New Year’s Eve plans.”
“Let me guess,” Q said, raising an eyebrow. “A rom-com marathon with pizza?”
Y/N smirked. “How did you know?”
“Because that’s exactly what I would do,” Q said with a wink. “Don’t worry, we won’t crash it—unless you want us to.”
Yuri giggled at that, nudging Q playfully. “I think they deserve their quiet time. They’ve earned it.”
“Exactly,” Minho agreed, putting his arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “We’ll have a proper date night. No interruptions.”
Their friends laughed, exchanging knowing glances but respecting their privacy. There was a shared understanding between them that, even though their relationship had started as a game, it had turned into something deeper. Y/N had never imagined she’d end up here, with Minho, her feelings no longer a tangled mess of confusion but rather a clear and comforting certainty. She was exactly where she needed to be.
“So, are we still doing the whole ‘New Year’s Eve together’ thing, or are you guys ditching us for your cozy little movie marathon?” Dae asked, a teasing grin on his face.
Y/N shook her head, a mischievous glint in her eye. “No way. You’re all invited to join, but only if you promise to let me control the remote.”
The group laughed again, with Q shaking his head dramatically. “We’ll let you have your moment, Y/N. Just don’t forget us when you become all romantic.”
As they all walked back to the campus, Minho’s hand remained firmly in Y/N’s. He squeezed it gently, and she returned the gesture, her heart warm with happiness.
This was the end of their beginning, the chapter of confusion and miscommunication, but it was just the start of something much bigger. Something real. And with the promise of new adventures and quiet nights ahead, Y/N knew that whatever the future held, she and Minho would face it together.
The stars were beginning to twinkle in the sky as they made their way back, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she realized that the best was yet to come.
The End.
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cuteniarose · 3 days ago
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So I… completely forgot I was tagged in this 😅 In my defence, January was one hell of a month and I didn’t get one moment of peace, so we’re finishing this off now!!
Words written (published or not, WIPs totally count too!!):
It’s rather hard to calculate just how much I wrote because a lot of it is in the form of (often unfinished) snippets sent through DMs that are impossible to keep track of, but I tried my best to compile the word counts of all my finished pieces together (yes, only finished, the rest don’t deserve to be counted), and it comes out to roughly 69054. Not as much as I would have liked, but it’s something, at least. Better than pretty much all previous years, as far as I’m aware.
Smut scenes:
Actually finished? Two. I’m horrendous at writing smut. I really wanna get better at it because I cannot keep relying on Kat to provide it for me, but since I’m aroace I have absolutely no frame of reference and everything I write feels stiff and awkward and not hot at all 😭😭😭 Maybe it’s an “I wrote it therefore it’s bad” kind of thing, maybe a “can’t get turned on by my own writing or imagination” kind of thing, idk, it’s sucks either way :/
New things I tried:
Smut writing, I’m pretty sure? Also just romance in general (if the singular kiss between Jia and Aiza counts lmao). And more serious introspection, which was… 90% of what I wrote this year tbh
Fic I spent the most time on:
AIDIB, hands down. I still wake up in a cold sweat thinking about it sometimes, I hate that goddamn thing. Don’t get me wrong, I can recognise that it has its good parts, but ffs I’m 100% I lost 20 years of my life writing it. Kat, the rest few instalments of UtOS are on you, I don’t even care
Fic I spent the least time on:
Not counting the Avatar Sapphic Week chapters, probably a tie between Out in the Garden and The Winter Solstice? I basically spedran writing both of them within like… two days of my self imposed deadline. I was definitely possessed by Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy in those moments, don’t even try to convince me otherwise
Favourite thing I wrote:
Either Where Land Meets Sea or nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter. There are parts I hate about both so I can’t really pick a favourite
Favourite thing I read:
I don’t read fic lol. Does Tomorrow Was the War count??
Writing goals for next year:
Actually finish something for once you lazy piece of shit (/lightheartedbutnotreally). For a more serious answer, write at least the first chapter of my Haya fic before March 1st, complete the remaining 5 ASW prompts, and finish and post my translation of Tomorrow Was the War HOPEFULLY before my exams bc I can already tell this summer will kick my ass once again. Not aiming for anything else because I’ll just end up hating myself for missing the mark, let’s be real
Year-End Writer's Roundup: 2024 Edition!
thanks so much for the tag @sweetorangepoptart!! i had to wait to actually do this until i finished the last fic i wanted to post for the year, so now it's time for the roundup!
i'm honestly not sure who to tag, so if you see this and you wrote anything this year, feel free to do it and say i tagged you!!
Words written (published or not, WIPs totally count too!!):
let's not even get into my WIPs there's so many lol. going by just published works, i wrote 73,234 words!! honestly crazy to think about!
Smut scenes:
three! all in their own standalone works. doing the math, that means my smut fics alone take up about 1/3 of my words written this year haha
New things I tried:
i've written for lots of ships for the first time this year! in fact, i believe all the ships i wrote for are the first-time ships for me, which is always very exciting
as well, i tried a slightly different writing style than usual in my fic i'm glad i get forever to see where you went. i really enjoyed writing like this, and i can definitely see myself doing it again in the future!
Fic I spent the most time on:
i think that title has to go to my fic Likewise, as it sat half-finished in my drafts for... honestly most of this year i think
Fic I spent the least time on:
i can't say 100% for sure, but i think my fic Something Nice. it was written for yangvik week, and it was quite literally written the same day it was published. i did that several times during the week, but as this one's word count is a bit lower than the others, i think it's most likely the one i spent the least time on
Favorite thing I wrote:
ughhhhh this is like asking me to pick my favorite child. i love them all!! but if i had to choose, i think i need to go with The Push. i am honestly so proud of this fic, and i actually go back and reread it quite frequently. it also became popular beyond my wildest belief, and was sort of my jumpstart into the yangvik ship/fandom. the response to it helped give me the confidence to write seven (and counting!) more yangvik fics!!
Favorite thing I read:
actually this is like having to pick a favorite child. how can i possibly choose when i read not only lots of fic, but lots of good fic?? i've gotta choose multiple lol
anything by my lovely mutual @katkastrofa, i legitimately can't choose any specific one to focus on because they're all so incredibly written! Ruby by KingWuko; i love all your wuko fics but this one in particular gets me every time! and outside of the atla fandom, i've been really enjoying this owl house fic on ao3!
Writing goals for next year:
honestly? just keep writing! writing fanfiction has honestly been incredibly helpful for me while i'm in college. seriously, my mental health is always so much worse when i'm not writing. even if i don't publish it, writing is so good for my brain. so i want to keep up with it as i go into the new year!
i've also worked on a loose writing schedule for the upcoming year - i'm not holding myself to it super strongly but i really am going to try and follow it! it's just a way to help me focus more on individual fics and know when i want to try and finish them. that way i can do things like publishing fics for friends' birthdays and participating in more fandom events!
and last but not least, a semi-writing goal that i have is to host another wonderful yangvik week! the 2024 event was amazing, and since it ended even more people have found it and expressed interest, so i 100% would like to do it again. and if i do it again, this time i'm going to try and write for all seven days! considering i wrote for six last time, it seems pretty manageable lol
----
thanks again for the tag! this has been a great writing year for me, and i can't wait to see what 2025 holds!
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denkisauce · 6 months ago
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hello! do you have any bnha fic recs?
omg hi!! i’m so happy you asked this ☺️☺️
yes i actually have a whole google doc of fic recs 😻 i haven’t read bnha fics in a little while but i think this list is pretty much up to date to what ive read!
i am absolutely biased but i used to inhaleee bnha fics so this list is really the best of the best all bangers!!! and very long lots to choose from lol
im a multi/polyshipper so there’s a little bit of everyone and everything in there! enjoy!!
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deus-ex-mona · 1 month ago
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merry crisis guys!!!!
#‘it isnt christmas yet’ ‘it has been christmas for h o u r s ur late’ sshhhh my timezone is law ok~~~#cheers to the last week of the year~~~~~~~~~#sometimes i forget that it’s supposed to be a christian holiday though… i remember going to church for the ‘mas exactly once#it was boring :( i didnt even get the little bread biscuit thing :( i’ve always wanted to try it tbh#only bc it sounds crisp when people bite into it. i wonder if it has the same texture as like potato chips or sth#or like those ‘toasted bread chips’ that occasionally pop up in the stores… i like the cheese bread variations#or maybe it’s crisp at first bite then turns soggy (like those potato wheel crackers) m a n. do i hate those potato crackers.#they’re all salt; no substance. the dried and fried onion crackers are 100000000 times better#ngl i had no idea what those onion crackers were called for. like. 90% of my life so i called them ‘suntanned keropok’#only bc my mother used to dry them out under the sun on bright days (or in the toaster when she got lazy) before frying them#since frying them straight away without drying made them super hard instead of light and crispy..#man i kinda want onion crackers now… the slightly over-browned ones were the best~~~~~#anyways!!!! free holiday!!!!!!! no work!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i’ll try to get ch36 of idol sengen up later~~~~~~~ i was gonna do part of it earlier but then i took 3 hours to finish my dinner sobs#not making any concrete promises though~~~~~~~~ all i want for crisisssss is asunaaaaaaaa#(asuna and… onion crackers… that is… aha~~~~ keropok bawang loml…)
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ireverie · 1 month ago
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see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing ↠ """nerd!"""jake x (f) reader
genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, dubcon, oral (m receiving), male face sitting, face fucking, unprotected sex, blackmail, choking, hitting, virgin!reader
summary ↠ ever since forever, you have always gotten your way with people by whatever means necessary. a wink and a smile is all it takes to make a boy drop to your feet and worship you. no one told you to think that jake sim would be any different. as it turns out, actions do have consequences.
wc ↠ 14.9k
a/n ↠ jeno version of this fic posted on my nct blog revehae. yea, mine. i am her she is me. THERE WILL BE NO SEQUEL. feedback is appreciated!
don’t like it, don’t read.
▸ short, sweet, sometimes sticky
it was supposed to be like everybody else.
short, sweet, maybe sticky if you considered that one time you’d shaken that sunoo boy’s sweat-coated hands and watched the pale of his face burn the same fierce rose as the lens he saw you through. 
you’d laughed lightheartedly to spare him the embarrassment, telling him that everybody got a little sweaty every now and then, especially you. after all, cheerleading was more than skipping around and twirling. and at those words, you’d watched his eyes haze with the image of you damp with sweat, drenched head to toe.
hook, line, and sinker.
far too easy, exactly how you liked them. smart, easy, and utterly unable to resist you.
no one told you to expect something different from jake sim. and why would you? he knew all the right answers, had some of the best marks, and practically lived in the library. he perfectly fit the bill of your standard victim.
which was why you had no qualms about approaching him in the library while he was typing away at his laptop, occasionally sipping from some kind of coffee.
as if he could sense he was in imminent danger and needed to evacuate immediately, jake turned around before you could even make it completely to the table and saw you advancing on him with a pretty, practiced smile. “hi,” you greeted, waving at him. falling, your hands gripped the rear of the chair beside him. “is someone sitting here?”
jake raised a brow at you, but shook his head. “no, no one’s sitting there.”
“perfect,” you replied, pulling out the chair and taking a seat. you turned so that you were facing him. “jake, right?”
jake nodded slowly, wondering where this was going. he got plenty girls, sure, but none ever approached him in the library. “that’s me,” he said, curious. “do i know you?”
“well, probably not,” you replied, giggling as if something was funny. “but, you know… i’m a cheerleader.”
jake hummed. “are you now?”
you bobbed your head expectantly. “yeah, and i’ve heard about how smart you are. i’m impressed, to be honest. i mean, every time i’m in the library, i see you sitting here. i could never spend so much time here. you must have a lot of resolve to do something like that.”
“you think so?” jake asked, pretending to be flattered just to see where you were leading him. 
“i do. like, really do,” you replied, brushing your fingers against his forearm. “i just have so many other,” better, “things to do, you know. with cheer, i’m either practicing or resting so that i’ll have energy for practice. it’s really hard on me, you know?”
jake stifled a chuckle and glanced back at his laptop screen. “you poor thing.”
your brows stitched. he wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to you. it was almost like he was uninterested. “and that’s why i was wondering if you could help me. i mean, you’re such a genius. you could probably do it in half the time it would take me,” you continued, lowering your hand onto his denim-clad thigh, and becoming surprised by how sturdy it felt.
jake spared a fleeting glance at your hand on his left thigh before his eyes flitted to your face, watching you wink at him and throw him a smile. “let me get this straight,” he started, slowly caressing the back of your hand with his thumb as it sat on his thigh. “you want me to… do your work for you?”
“hey, your hard work wouldn’t go unrewarded,” you insisted, ignoring the unexpected motions of his thumb. “you’d have my attention. i mean, like i said, i don’t have a lot of time to give away. but i’m willing to spend some of it on you.”
jake snickered, unable to help himself anymore. “are you this patronizing to everyone you meet?” he asked.
your eyes flickered. “p-patronizing?”
jake smiled, patting your hand before setting it on your own thigh. “sorry, was that a big word for you? you know, when you think you’re too good for something, but you don’t want to say it, so you play sweet and act like you’re helping me, when really, it’s the other way around.”
switching on a dime, you narrowed your eyes at him. for such a pretty boy, he had quite the attitude. “i know what patronizing means. and right now, i think you’re the one being patronizing.”
“am i?” jake asked, feigning obliviousness. “how’s it taste, cheerleader? doesn’t feel good, does it?”
your face was set in a scowl. sometimes it hurt you to play nice with people, and now was one of those times. “are you gonna help me or not?” you snapped.
“there it is,” jake sang, chuckling to himself. he put his hand on your thigh now, squeezing the flesh gently. for now. “there’s the real you.”
you swallowed, glaring over at him with a hint of defiance despite the disgusting, foreign feeling rotting in your chest. it had never gone like this before. every situation predating this one had been somewhat predictable, to the point where you’d come to expect certain reactions. this was not that.
“i’ll help you,” jake said after a pause.
you forced a smile. “great, so…”
jake interjected, “on one condition.”
smile faltering, you trailed off, processing his words. now he was making some kind of deal with you? who in the hell did this man think he was?
“on one condition?” you echoed, as if you’d somehow misheard him. your brows scrunched in suspicion. “what condition?”
jake grinned, the look on his face sly as hell and a stark contrast from the disgruntled glower on yours. “give me something in return,” was all he said, the tightening hold on your thigh giving away more than his words had.
you gawked, as if you were offended, and quickly swat at his hand. “i’m not having sex with you, you pervert!”
“sure, you’re not,” jake answered with a chuckle, eyes twinkling with amusement. everything about you was alluring to him for mostly all the reasons unintended. “but you said i’d have your attention. i guess you think it’s not often a poor, busy nerd like myself gets anyone’s attention, yeah? but nerds get tired too, don’t they? they need to de-stress…”
“that’s not my problem,” you spat. 
“you getting an F isn’t my problem, either,” jake retorted, shrugging his shoulders. “so what it’s gonna be, cheerleader?”
something about this situation isn’t right to you. maybe it’s the lack of power you currently wielded over him, despite the fact that you had gotten used to having your way with academically competent boys like himself. if he weren’t taller than you and stronger than you, you’d resort to other, more familiar methods.
but jake had changed the entire trajectory of this interaction for the worse, and now you had to determine whether or not it was beneath you to let him treat you as if you were some kind of object. you sulkily mulled it over, arms folded, trying to think of a way to maintain some semblance of power. “fine,” you finally replied, relenting. “but i’m not doing anything that requires me taking my clothes off.”
“you never seen a good porno, cheerleader?” jake asked, a stupid, taunting smile blemishing his lips. “that cute little uniform of yours is the whole appeal to some people.”
“my name is…,” you huffed irritably, tired of being referred to by your title. 
“frankly, cheerleader, i don’t care what your name is,” jake told you with brutal honesty. “you’re the one that introduced yourself as a cheerleader, like that’s your whole personality or something. thinking it would make me fold. you can’t be stupid and demanding.”
you gaped, affronted by the sheer audacity of him to even utter those words to you, like you were some dumb bimbo. “i’m not stupid! i’m just too busy.”
“right. too busy,” jake echoed, obviously none too convinced. “sorry for assuming.”
with a roll of your eyes, you stood up from the table chair, feeling utterly disrespected. “yeah, you should be,” you said, despite knowing his apology was completely inauthentic. “where’s your phone?”
jake arched a brow and glanced over to his phone, sitting face down against the table on the other side of him. before he could even respond, you reached over him to grab it and pointed it at his face, unlocking it as if you’d done it a million times before.
then, you started typing away, all the while jake watched you with an amused expression on his face. he had to admit, you were surely something. and though he found you entertaining, he couldn’t shake the thought that you desperately needed someone to put you in your place.
“reach me here,” you said after a moment, handing him his phone back. the screen was on his messages, a fresh contact with you.  “pleasure doing business with you.”
with that, you walked away. 
jake shook his head, scoffing. who the hell did you think you were?
over the next few days or so, you met with jake to better construct exactly what your expectations were pertaining to your work. or at least, those were the words he’d used. most of those limited encounters had ended with his hands sealing around your breasts.
you let it slide, deciding that a little over-the-clothes stuff was relatively harmless. after all, this was the busiest you’d been all year long, and you were far too exhausted when you got home to be burdened with stupid assignments and pesky discussion posts. the next two months, if not the next two weeks, were going to kill you if you didn’t have someone to carry at least half the workload on your behalf.
it was okay. jake’s inability to keep his hands to himself was fine. it wasn’t like anybody was going to know, or that this arrangement would last long enough for them to find out. you would get to keep your dignity and your grades, without saving one at the expense of the other.
short, sweet, and sticky, remember? maybe the latter was simply manifesting in the way jake’s hands were stuck to you. not that anything about him was sweet.
more like sacrifice.
▸ gilded age
“guess who just made the list of this week’s top ten trending sluts,” jennie said as she walked up beside you and roseanne.
roseanne perked up that, though she couldn’t help but mischievously quip, “you?”
jennie narrowed her eyes. “hoe, as if,” she spat. “i know how to keep my legs closed.”
you snickered. “god, what happened now?”
“a sex tape got leaked. hyeri, and apparently sunghoon.”
your nose scrunched, as if disgusted. “always knew she was a slut. i mean, you should have been there to see the way she acted around the jocks in high school. her eyes were practically screaming, ‘pick me, choose me, fuck me,’” you mocked.
roseanne burst into giggles, downing the rest of what was left in her red cup. “i don’t think that’s how that goes,” she chimed. “but sunghoon? is she crazy? i hope they didn’t do it raw. i heard rumors that he’s got the clap.” 
“he sure clapped something, alright,” jennie retorted, much to your amusement. “it was definitely raw. hope it was worth the itch. you guys wanna see?”
“absolutely not,” you said, shaking your head vigorously. “i bet her parents would love to see it, though. on second thought, send me it.”
roseanne gawked. “are you serious?”
you bobbed your head, grinning deviously. “yeah. you guys have no idea what that bitch was like in high school. i tried teaching her a lesson, but she just never learned. it’s like the bitch is addicted to pain or something.”
jennie shook her head, pretending to disapprove, though she was intrigued to see how far you would your obvious loathing. “just sent it.”
your phone vibrated in your hand a few seconds later. you opened your instagram burner account, scrolling through your main’s following to find hyeri’s mother’s page, and dropped the video in her inbox. your sly giggle alerted your friends to your success and you dropped your phone in your pocket, satisfied.
“oh, you’re sick,” jennie insulted playfully, nudging your arm. “i wonder if she’ll say anything.”
you shrugged your shoulders, feigning nonchalance as if you weren’t excited to see how her mother would respond. “don’t know, but i’m more curious about if she’ll talk to hyeri about it. i’d love to be a fly on the myung’s wall when that happens.”
roseanne tapped your shoulder. “hey, don’t look now, but that jake guy is staring you.”
your head whirled around, spotting jake in his own corner of the party, indeed watching your every move as if he wanted to consume you and was waiting for the perfect moment to attack. which, if he was, would not be surprising. 
roseanne sighed in annoyance. “i literally just said don’t look now.”
you turned back to face them, shaking your head. “don’t worry about that creep,” you replied, brushing it off. “he’s just begging to get in my pants. didn’t even know he went to parties.”
for whatever reason, jennie laughed. something about what you said tickled her, apparently. “um, yeah. that’s jake for you, alright. he’s either partying with his friends or grinding in the library, no in between. perfectly balanced lifestyle, i have to admit it.”
your brows furrowed. that was news to you. and probably an important piece of information that you’d conveniently missed when narrowing down your targets. maybe you should have asked around about him more. you just didn’t think that someone who studied as hard as he did could also be the life of the party.
what was he doing here, anyway? shouldn’t he have been off doing your homework? useless fucking nerdy-not.
“do you guys know each other or something?” roseanne pressed, noticing the strange tension in the air despite the fact that you and jake were feet apart. which was honestly admirable. “do you think you could get him to put me on with jungwon?”
jennie’s laughter rang out again, only this time, it was much louder, and much more mocking. “please. jungwon isn’t gonna touch any of us after how she broke his heart. you’d have better luck with jaehyun,” she sneered.
roseanne glared, a snarl on her face. “fuck jaehyun.”
“yeah, i bet you want to. i bet you’re still dreaming of that big, thick, meaty dick you wouldn’t shut up about, like, two months ago.”
“a lot can change in two months.”
“oh, it sure can,” jennie replied, humming. “it sure can.”
▸ takes two to tango
jake: come over
you: no
jake: that wasn’t a request 
you: no where in our agreement does it say you get to boss me around
jake: not even for an A?
you: that’s what your grabby hands are for
jake: i don’t have to do this, you know. i can let you be a grown up and fiend for yourself like the rest of us
you: i’m otw, chill. jesus
the knock of your fist against jake’s door was incessant, more than likely enough to exasperate his neighbors, given that it was particularly late at night and a good number of them had to have been sleeping.
jake threw the door open with a scowl, obviously irritated. “you are so fucking annoying,” he hissed, dragging you inside and shutting the door behind you. 
“ow!” you cried out, snatching your arm away. “stop that, i’m sore.”
jake shook his head, his discontent frown disappearing in favor of an entertained, idiotic smile. “sore, huh? from doing what?”
you rolled your eyes. “if it isn’t obvious, i’m a cheerleader,” you reminded, gesturing down to your uniform. ���meaning, i cheer.”
ignoring your snarky attitude, jake glanced you up in down, taking in the sight of you in that tight, short cheer uniform that clung to you rather snugly. sweat still beaded at your damp legs and likely gathered between your breasts and down your back, as jake was imagining. “yeah, you cheer. you won’t let me forget,” he said, amused.
“well, i’m busy,” you said, crossing your arms.
busy, my fucking ass, jake thought to himself. “yeah, you won’t let me forget that, either. and yet, i saw you giggling with your friends at a party two weeks ago, looking completely fine. your poor, exhausted legs seemed to be working perfectly.”
“what, so i can’t have hobbies now?”
“sure, you can,” jake replied, shrugging his shoulders. “i just have to ask, do you ever do anything productive with your time?”
“of course, i do,” you hissed, before quickly deflecting, “but we both know that’s not why you made me come all the way over here. so, what do you want?”
“your attention,” jake said without missing a beat. his hands plopped against your bare shoulders and began wandering down your arms, rubbing them back and forth. “i’m in desperate need of a cheerleader’s sweet, precious attention.”
the disgruntled grimace on your face was the most effort you made to express your discomfort, not that he was looking there anyway. to him, at the moment, the sight of your body was much more appetizing. you watched with a repugnant burn simmering in your gaze as his eyes met your long, slender legs.
without warning, jake grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you into the air, making you cry out in surprise. arms dangling around his neck, you held on for dear life, not an inch of your body feeling safe in his arms. you had been hauled further away from the ground by your cheermates, but this was different; no one wanted to fail, meaning no one would drop you. you had no reason to assume that jake would handle you delicately.
but his burly arms, however, were not lost on you. though you hadn’t yet seen them in full power, your interactions mostly taking form of him forcing your back flush against the chiseled muscle of his chest as he kneaded yours, you could only imagine what the hands that groped you were capable of. 
in a matter of seconds, you landed on your back against his sheets, another shrill screech escaping your throat. “jake, what the hell?” you exclaimed. 
“i’m not getting on my knees for you,” jake said, the slyest of smiles tugging at his lips. “not unless it’s to fuck you. and you’re just too good to give it up, aren’t you?”
for him, definitely. and you would have said so, but your lips parted in a gasp, surprised and startled. something wet pushed along your sore legs, which were abruptly yanked to pillars far above your head so that they’d be more conveniently within reach of jake’s tongue as he licked long, hot lines at them.
your eyes were rooted on him, fixed in a shape unlike their natural narrowed, black blaze and it would instead be more apt likening them to the fear and fret of a deer in crossed paths. wide, waiting, almost innocent. too used to circumstance to understand its fabric and too unfamiliar to chance to understand its fate.
unsatisfied, jake bent your knee and pushed your leg further as he stood over the edge of his bed, and, in turn, over you, a grip on your ankles that you could feel in your bones. “jake, that hurts,” you whined. 
jake didn’t understand why you were bitching. “but you’re a cheerleader,” he echoed. “aren’t you flexible?”
you writhed uncomfortably as he continued shamelessly, tongue even daring to twist against the bone underneath the bend of your knee, a sensation that itched more than you expected. his lips sealed around your skin, sucking and nibbling.
needless to say, it was unlike anything you had experienced before. “stop, that’s weird!”
“stop complaining,” jake groaned, pushing your leg even harder. “it’s like all you ever do is complain about how hard your life is.”
your eyes stung now not only with loathing, but the threat of hot tears. it was stupid; it sounded dramatic, but you felt it was warranted when he was the one actively making your life harder. “you’re a fucking weirdo,” you snapped. 
jake heard it. the slight tremble in your voice despite the courage you’d been feigning. that was the sole reason he even bothered to look up at your face, the tears in them stealing his attention away in a heartbeat. he didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed, or maybe even both. “god, now you’re crying,” he pointed out. “i haven’t even done anything to you. do you need me to give you a reason to cry?”
you shook your head. all you needed was to go home and recharge. you were beginning to doubt whether or not he was worth the trouble he carried with him in exchange for a grade that would keep your parents off your back, especially if he was going to make pulling stunts like this a regular habit. 
the last thing you expected jake to do was tug the bottom of your top past the shadow of your breasts, slackening the taut grip on your ankles in favor of your wrists as if he knew you would dare resist him, and burying his face between your chest. you exhaled shakily, mortified by the hot, wet feel of his tongue licking a stripe between your breasts, gathering leftover sweat on its tip.
and you did thrash. but you were getting a taste of that power now; a power that wasn’t your own, a power that you couldn’t reap. a power that grabbed you with its calloused fist with a might so strong you couldn’t move. and it was for the first time that you felt utterly weak. there had to be a word for something as unfathomable as that, but it was so foreign to you that you couldn’t think of it.
to make matters worse, jake was taking his time, sucking bruises onto the skin of your chest in between his licking, as if he wanted to ensure there was no spot left untouched, no drop of sweat left behind. your face strained with discomfort, wanting more than anything to get away from him and this awful feeling rotting inside of your heart.
maybe your cries for mercy were heard, because no sooner had you hoped for an end than it came. “you can go now,” jake said, pulling away. he pulled your shirt back down and smoothed out any wrinkles, which was almost kind of him.
even though you were more than eager to be rid of him, you lay there, dumbfounded. it was one thing to be violated, and it was another to be dismissed, but to happen in rapid succession of each other quickly bred some ugly emotion that was only festering.
jake had expected you to scurry out of his bed, and out of his apartment, so the fact that you were still there bemused him. “what, do you want more?” he teased. 
you shook your head, sitting up a little too quickly. your head started to feel lightheaded. you barked, “that isn’t what i agreed to!”
jake had the audacity to laugh. like you had told a joke of some kind. “isn’t it? your clothes are still technically on. that was what you agreed to. remember?”
you dropped to your feet, pushing past him. “you’re disgusting,” was all you said, making a beeline for the door.
“takes two to tango, baby,” jake called after you, simpering.
you didn’t look back. you couldn’t. there was an unpleasant stir in your gut - not as easily distinguishable as the loathing - unlike anything you had ever felt and you desperately wanted it to go away, to rid of yourself of anything that even remotely resembled jake sim.
 ▸ chess, not checkers
deep, low grunts smacked against the walls and bounced back with almost the same amount of vigor of jake’s quick, unrelenting hips, the sound nearly as hard and heavy as he was. the only thing rivaling the tightness of the hole he was using was the wince of his closed eyes and the grip of his strong hands.
jake didn’t want to see. it would be too blatantly obvious that she wasn’t you, and that it wasn’t your blemished hips he was holding. though she sounded nothing like you. he knew that you would have been so much whinier, and despite finding them painfully obnoxious, he found himself longing to hear all your worthless, melodramatic complaints.
instead, he heard soft moans mingling with his own labored sounds as his hips moved with a mind of their own, imagining it was you underneath him where you truly belonged.
the image stained the back of his eyelids, burned behind them every time he closed his eyes; the shortness of your pleated skirt scrunched around your hips, weak legs on his broad shoulders with nicks and bruises scattered here and there, arms swinging aimlessly.
and if he got tired of hearing you, he could simply press his palm squarely against your mouth, muting the sound of your incessant fussing. if he really wanted to put you in your place, he could clasp his hands around your throat and clamp down onto your windpipe till all that escaped you was a pitiful, featherlight squeak.
jake could tell no one had ever properly put you in your place before, no one had ever stood up to you and reminded you of your level. you were in desperate need of a humbling and didn’t even know it yourself. no one better than jake for the role, he figured. a little cheerleader parading around in a uniform to feel different from everybody else she met didn’t scare him whatsoever.
the only thing saving you was essentially the fact that you were undeniably pretty and not necessarily to blame for the school’s superficial culture, which elevated girls like you in terms of status despite it having no real meaning or manifestations outside of campus, and put you on top when you were within the bubble.
but outside the bubble, away from the boys who thought of you as this beautiful, unattainable poison and the girls who enabled you with a faux sense of togetherness, you had no real identity, no real power, and no real worth.
and yet, maybe jake was contributing to the problem. maybe he had inadvertently become one of the people elevating you. because choking in the heat of the moment, he uttered your name, forgetting who he was with and where he was.
hands shoved at him, hard. at least, hard enough for him to be jolted out of his reverie, finally gazing into the eyes that seethed because of him. “did you just call me that evil witch’s name?” seoa barked.
jake winced. that was a fair reaction, all things considered. he wouldn’t have wanted to have been called your name out of everyone’s, either. he rubbed his nape. “well…”
“unbelievable,” seoa replied, scoffing. she got out of the bed and hurriedly began picking her clothes up from the floor, redressing herself.
jake exhaled a breath, mostly annoyed that his orgasm had been ruined, but still feeling a hint of sympathy. “seoa, wait,” he said, touching her shoulder.
seoa recoiled, pulling away. jake had never seen anyone be so ready to put on their pants after being with him, not even with a hell of a schedule after. “never touch me again,” she spat, walking out with her shoes in tow. “fuck you.”
jake ran a hand through his hair, watching her leave, and murmured under his breath, “god dammit.”
a few days later, while they were attending a festival, jay marched over to jake, draping an arm over his shoulder, and asked, “wanna tell me why seoa blocked all of us and she’s been glaring at me and mark since she got here?”
jake snickered, shaking his head in slight disbelief. he was over it by now, he figured she would be too. “i let a certain cheerleader’s name slip while i was balls deep inside her,” he confessed. which he wasn’t necessarily proud of, considering the only reason he even knew your name was because you’d saved your own contact on his phone.
jay’s brows furrowed, glancing around as if he was trying to spot you in the crowd like a heat-seeking missle. “who?”
rolling his eyes, jake grabbed the back of jay’s head with one hand and turned it in your general direction, hoping it would help. and jake knew it had when jay’s confusion melted into disgust. 
“oh, that bitch?” he asked, nose wrinkled.
jake chuckled, releasing his friend’s head. “she’s a bitch, but she’s pretty.”
jay couldn’t argue with that fact even if he’d wanted to. “yeah, i’ll give her that. cute in the face. she’s fake as hell, though. played jungwon like a fiddle. he did six months worth of her homework because she promised they’d get together.”
that was news to jake. he knew you were cruel, having had stories from sunoo and the like, but he never knew of your history with jungwon. if it could be called that. “did they fuck?” he couldn’t help but ask.
jay shook his head, taking a sip from the bottle in his hand before he answered, “he said she always turned him down. told him she was waiting for ‘the perfect moment.’”
now that was funny as hell. jake had only known you for a few weeks and yet even he quickly pieced together that you weren’t the romantic type. “well, that’s fucked up,” he said, happily accepting yet another reason to dislike you. “but he’s dumb as fuck if he did her homework for six months without getting a crumb of pussy in return.”
jay made a face, nodding. “yeah,” he exhaled, giving the impression that he’d wanted to defend jungwon. “but man, what possessed you to say her name while fucking the seoa? i need a good excuse. you just blew my shot with her.”
jake shrugged. “don’t have one. she approached me maybe three weeks ago asking me to do her homework, and i agreed.”
jay gawked. that didn’t sound like jake. like at all. “man, what? is she paying you?”
“oh, dividends,” jake quipped.
“oh, and in what? pussy?”
“nope.”
jay looked horrified. he was so damn dramatic. “then, why the hell are you doing her bidding? that doesn’t sound like you.”
it didn’t, not immediately, but jake had his reasons. “entertainment purposes,” he replied curtly.
jay shook his head, taking another swig of his drink. certainly, he was drinking, not smoking. “you’re becoming her pawn for entertainment purposes? unbelievable, bro.”
“chess, not checkers, jay.” jake smirked, putting a hand on jay’s shoulder. “you’ll see.”
▸ things good guys do 
“you’re lucky i was already out,” jake told you when you let him into your apartment. “it’s the middle of the night for fuck’s sake. what do you want?”
“oh, please,” you spat, damn near rolling your eyes. your arms were folded. “you get to call me over at the ungodly hour, but when i do it, it’s a problem?”
jake exhaled through his nose and ran a hand through his hair, wondering why he bothered to come here when he had no obligation to do your bidding, as jay had put it. but something told him that he wouldn’t have any regrets. “yeah, it is. now, what do you want?”
you were silent for a few moments, somewhat ashamed of the request you would ultimately make. you sighed, surrendering. “i need help with calculus,” you finally said.
jake’s shoulders drooped, eyes shrinking in a contemptuous disbelief. “seriously?”
“seriously,” you repeated, sitting down on your couch as your laptop screen glared back at you from the coffee table.
jake groaned, “i seriously don’t know how you even got into this school. can’t you do anything by yourself?”
you gawked, affronted. he made you sound like some incompetent, immature dickhead. “contrary to a weirdly popular belief, i’m actually really smart,” you insisted, having the transcripts to prove it. “but my professor sucks and i need an eighty-nine on my final to keep my A. and it’s not like you can walk in and take it for me because it’s proctored.”
jake shook his head and reminded, “you know this little agreement we have doesn’t include me tutoring you, right?”
“it didn’t include you assaulting me, either,” you retorted.
“you think that was assault?” jake asked, scoffing. he dropped beside you on your couch, the proximity instinctively making you suck in a breath. “if i wasn’t a good guy, i’d show you assault.”
scooting over to ensure maximum distance between your bodies, you argued, “good guys don’t call themselves good guys.”
“good guys have self-control,” jake replied matter-of-factly, resisting a chuckle. he didn’t make a move to touch you, but he noticed how tense you looked now that he was sitting beside you. “i’ll tutor you, but we’ll have to up the terms of our agreement.”
you swallowed sharply, throat bobbing. you had a feeling you weren’t going to enjoy these new terms. “what do you want?”
“a blowjob.”
“that’s disgusting,” you spat without a second thought, features contorting with repugnance.
jake quipped, “and so is your inability to do your school work without using and depending on every intelligent boy you meet, but hey, i’m sure you can’t help that.”
you sighed, exasperated, and cradled your face in your hands. was this seriously what your life had come to? giving a boy a blowjob in exchange for a pretty transcript?
jake grinned, appreciating the sight of you in distress. it was a sign, a good sign, and he intended to bring it out of you more and more, bleeding you absolutely dry. lowering a hand onto your thigh, he urged, “come on, bruise those little knees for me. don’t you bruise ‘em for cheer?”
“that’s not the same!” you whined. 
“of course, it’s not,” jake said, squeezing your thigh as his shoulders trembled with laughter. “cheer isn’t helping you graduate with flying colors.”
you desperately wanted him to be wrong, you were begging for him to be wrong, but you both knew that if he was, he wouldn’t have been here with you at the moment. not now, not three weeks ago, not ever. so you sucked it up, slamming down your laptop lid, and grumbled, “fine.”
maybe he didn’t come here for nothing, after all. grateful he’d trusted his gut, jake stood up and clutched your arm to pull you along with him. “come on, let’s go to your room. i like my blowjobs a little messy and i’m sure you don’t want to mess up your nice carpet.”
you snatched your arm away from him, hating his insistence on touching you for every little reason whenever he possibly could, even if it was insignificant. your mouth was taut as you begrudgingly headed for your bedroom.
it was obvious that you were sour. walking behind you, jake couldn’t help but chime, “glad to see that you can at least walk by yourself!”
you bristled in annoyance, wishing you could just get rid of him, but you knew it wouldn’t be wise to discard him so quickly. at least for now, he still held some kind of value.
jake walked in behind you, looking particularly radiant, and you hated that you knew why. hell, you hated the reason itself. “get on your knees,” he commanded.
normally, you would complain about him giving you orders as if you were his lap dog or something, but you just wanted to get this over with. you were already so over this entire week. you slowly dropped to your knees, trying to ignore how demeaning it felt. 
“good girl,” jake praised at your compliance. “now, look up at me with those pretty eyes and ask me to help you with calc. ask me nicely.”
you met his eyes, noticing the expectant glimmer in his gaze that you so badly wanted to knock off. but you weren’t dumb enough to incite violence against a grown man that walked around with his bulging muscles on display for all the world to see, and you didn’t doubt that he would hit you back. “jake, please help me with calculus,” you pleaded, choosing your battles.
jake hummed, satisfied. “you sound so pretty and sweet when you ask nicely, instead of demanding things. didn’t know you were capable of that,” he told you, running his fingers through your hair. “take it out. get me hard.”
your hands moved to his sweatpants, tugging at them enough to bring them down just shy of his knees, and doing the same with his underwear. he wasn’t hard yet, but that would be an easy fix; witnessing your state of pure anguish, watching you speak and move as if you were totally dejected, always excited him.
not to mention that the sight of you on your knees for him, the more he took it in, was arousing him even more than he thought it would. he had pictured it in his mind before, you serving him, pleasuring him, existing solely for him, but nothing could compare to the sight he beheld now.
at least, nothing other than you actually doing something rather than sitting there like an idiot. he liked taking control, but he figured you would take matters into your own hands, literally, when he gave the order. “do you need me to tell you what to do or something?” he asked, huffing irritably. “put your tongue on it. tease the head.”
your face and ears burned in ways they rarely did, but you nodded wordlessly and did as told, bracing your hands on his thighs and reluctantly pressing your tongue onto his tip, looking anywhere but his eyes as the muscle swirled around.
that amused jake to no end. at least for now, he would let it slide, not feeling the need to maintain eye contact with you at the moment. if he needed to, he would simply just grab a nice, thick fistful of your hair and yank it back to jolt your head up at him. he could still see your pretty, bare face, hair arranged messily at the top of your head with a few needless strands jutting out here and there.
he liked that. of course, he would have been more than enthusiastic to have you suck him off if you’d been all dolled up, making you ruin your makeup and undo at least an hour of careful, clean work, but he also just took pleasure in seeing this natural, undone part of you. he wanted to see you for what you really were.
it didn’t take long for him to get hard. with all his thoughts revolving around you and the feel of your tongue on the head of his dick, that was a no-brainer. “good, now put it in your mouth. take as much as you can and not an inch less,” jake instructed.
widening your mouth, you accepted his stout, heavy cock into your mouth, lips forming a tight suction around the head and steadily advancing down his shaft. bit by bit, inch by nightmarishly thick inch. you had made it maybe halfway down his shaft when you quickly discovered your limit.
jake was surprisingly content, despite the fact that you definitely still had a few more inches to go. “there you go,” he said, giving your head a soft pat of approval. “suck. go slow. and don’t you dare let me feel any teeth.” 
your heart was thumping out of something you could only understand as fear, even though jake hadn’t done anything to warrant it yet. inhaling through your nose, you tried to level your breathing, taking your time to draw in his cock lest you made a mistake. the hint of warning in jake’s voice, in spite of the calmness, was clear.
jake, on the other hand, was reaching elysian heights. faint grunts of, “fuck,” escaped his pink lips, large hands at his sides reflexively tensing into tightly clenched fists in need of something to grab, hips just barely stuttering. your mouth was hot and wet, with the added benefit of your torturous tongue pressed against his size.
there was a pinch of desperacy in your actions that overcame the resistance; a desperacy not necessarily to please him, but to appease him. accidents were the last thing you could afford and eliciting his frustration was the last thing you wanted.
“lick,” jake said, chest undulating. “up and down.”
with a hum, you started drawing long, wet lines back and forth on his veiny shaft, almost as if you were tracing the bold veins with your tongue. jake’s reaction was instantaneous, deep groans the only thing you could hear other than the wet sound of your mouth on his cock, sucking and licking. 
jake’s eyes fluttered closed. “fuck. yeah, like that.”
you pressed your tongue against the underside of his dick, lingering in each spot for a moment before you continued, mostly because he seemed to like it when you did. which was your north star in an empty, dead night, because you had not a clue what the hell you were doing and you were afraid of making it obvious somehow.
if jake could tell, he didn’t make it known. he was in a world of his own, all too happily reaping the pleasure from your mouth as if it was a dream come true for him. “kiss my balls. lick it.”
you stifled the sigh you were half tempted to let loose, pulling off his cock with a wet sound and a string of saliva connecting from the sticky tip to your glossy lips. moving your head, you took a moment to steel yourself before peppering tiny, soft kisses along his balls, down to his scrotum.
it wasn’t the most dignifying thing you had ever done, it may have even been the least, but your aching, sore jaw appreciated the break from sucking. you dragged your tongue over his testicles, tasting nothing but rubbery flesh. you were too busy avoiding his eyes to notice, but his face was tensing with pleasure, lips parting in low murmurs.
compared to when you first started, jake was drastically harder now, massive, monstrous cock nearly bursting at the veins with precum leaking out from the thick tip. had your goal been to take all of him entirely, the sheer size of him would have immediately overwhelmed you.
“switch to your hand and go back to sucking me off,” jake said, firm yet quiet. it sounded like he was trying to restrain himself, barely holding it together.
at least you were a fast learner. teasing the head of his cock, you gave it a few slow, tentative licks before you began to take him into your mouth again, all the while gently fondling his balls with your fingers. jake groaned, arching into your touch. he couldn’t help himself.
you could taste the vicious amount of precum staining your tongue and you didn’t know how to describe it, other than slightly tart. the flavor blended with that of your own saliva, lingering on the roof of your mouth and the warm flesh underneath the flap of your tongue, mild as could be.
at least it wasn’t downright awful. you had heard stories before, not that you’d ever known what to make of them, or even pictured yourself being inside of them. if a month ago, someone had told you that you’d be on your knees for a man - for anyone - you would have said they were delusional.
jake’s patience had worn thin and when you least expected it, he hauled you into the air, making you cry out in surprise just as you had the first time he’d lifted you into his buff, meaty arms. he tossed you onto the bed, just shy of the headboard, and suddenly straddled your chest. you gasped out a breath.
“open up,” jake said, cock positioned right in front of your mouth.
not that he gave you the time to obey him, because he pressed himself against your slightly parted lips and forced them wider, entering your mouth on his own. your face strained, perfectly threaded brows tugging down into a discontented arch.
when you tried to pull away, jake grabbed the sides of your face and pushed you onto his shaft with trembling hands, making you take him and leaving no room for escape, not until he decided he was done with you. there was only one concern present in his mind and that was getting himself off.
tears stung your eyes, that same implacable feeling you had when he’d dragged his tongue over the expanse of your soft, shaved legs and bare, sweaty chest finding you again in the most of unwanted company. jake scoffed, spitefully tugging at your hair. “you know what’s funny? you’re such a fucking crybaby. you can’t take even half of what you give to others.”
chin flush against his scrotum and your nose not even an inch away from his bush, you almost gagged. the slurping sounds were humiliating, loud, wet squelching with every other big gulp making you want to shrink. however, jake loved it, obsessing over the idea of making a mess out of you. the sound went straight to his dick.
jake held your face in that low position, deeper than you’d ever taken him so far. “i’m really not that bad of a guy, you know,” jake said, sounding like he truly believed it. you could have scoffed, if not for obvious reasons. “you just bring it out of me. i’m really just treating you like how you treat everybody else.”
he made you sound like something straight out of hell and you couldn’t help but think it was an unfair justification for something that felt too close to punishment. he obviously thought he knew you better than he did and it made you aggravated. that, or he somehow thought he was better than you.
there was a fleeting second of relief when jake unmounted your chest and let you breathe, only to be crushed again when he dragged you by your wrists to the edge of your mattress, leaving you in the deep end. your eyes struggled to grasp with the flipped image of him nearing you, cock back down your throat before you could even blink.
though his hips thankfully had been moving at a calmer, steady pace before, despite forcing himself deeper than you could handle, he began to thrust more urgently into your mouth with the new change, embedding himself even further into your throat than you knew was possible. 
you cried harder, hating every second of it. the salty, bitter tang of your tears mingled with the tainted taste of spit and sharp bite of precum that had come to stain your chin and cupid’s bow. the vigor of his movements was overwhelming, overpowering.
“that’s it, cheerleader. cry harder,” jake taunted, tracing his thumb over your face to swipe at the trail of tears. all the while his hips were moving faster, harder.
it felt like such a mockery, him doing that. a feigned act of sympathy while perpetuating the torment that was reducing you to tears as a selfish means of achieving pleasure of his own. 
then, his hands wandered down to your breasts, slipping inside your night shirt and mauling your chest. running his hands in a circle, his thumb brushed the erect, colored nipples and he clasped his hands around your chest, squeezing your breasts. “fuck, i’m close,” he grunted, grip tightening, pace hastening, force increasing. 
with how close he was, your nose was squarely against his the flesh of his balls, effectively cutting off your exhale. your heart thudded, racing and pounding. tensing with panic, your hands frantically moved, striking at his navel and thighs. even your legs were in alarm, unstill towards the other end of the bed. 
jake groaned, smacking your cheek. another slap followed the sizzle, straight against your chest. “calm the fuck down,” he hissed, raising his arm in preparation to hit you again. “i’ll let you breathe as soon as i come, so you better not get in the way, if you know what’s good for you.”
even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stay calm. your body physically couldn’t handle it, responding the only way it knew how, trying to protect you. somebody had to. you closed your eyes, face warm with tears and panic, and you tried to brace your hands on the sheets, anything to comfort and stabilize yourself.
it got to a point where jake couldn’t hold back anymore and he climaxed with a prolonged, guttural groan, hips still brutally smacking into your mouth as he painted your tongue and the back of your throat with his cum. he went as far as to grab your head again, forcing himself onto you as deep as he could go, and demanding, “swallow it.”
like hell you would. you pushed him away, coughing and choking as soon as you did, drops of cum pooling from your mouth and some of it flying here and there in the midst of your coughing fit.
irritated, jake pressed his tongue against the roof his mouth. “you’re so fucking useless,” he groaned, grabbing his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants and quickly turning on the camera. “look at you. sitting here choking on my cum. you want it again, don’t you?”
you sat up, nearly tumbling over the edge of your bed from the intense convulsing, and turned to face the other way as you hunched over, tightly clasping your sheets. “fuck off, you got what you wanted!” you rasped.
jake laughed. you sounded so gravelly. “you’re right. i did,” he replied, putting back on his pants and pocketing his phone. “so, tutoring. i’ll see you tomorrow. nighty night, cheerleader.”
he gave you a pat on the head and turned, heading straight for the door.
▸ hard feelings
something about today was different than usual. 
when you woke up, you had felt a shift in the air, but you’d chalked it up to being nervous about the final you had in three hours.
but when you finally went to go take it, however, you quickly realized that the unsettling feeling you had was not simply pre-exam jitters. it was something much more sinister than that. with the status you held on campus, you were used to being watched and gawked at, but this was different.
it felt like everybody and their mother was looking at you.
you were confused. you had been the subject of this much attention before, but only once; it was a couple years back when someone had spread a dirty, foul rumor about you. there was a social media page for your school called top ten, mostly used to shame women for their sexual exploits, but some men made their way on it too. that was how you heard about sunghoon’s clap rumor.
long story short, a rumor about you had originated there and it had taken you weeks to clear your name. but by that time, there was already another slut of the week. you were lucky to have your situation not only be false and debunked, but word of mouth. only the most unlucky of people, like hyeri, got images or videos of themselves posted.
and you were a community favorite. you would understand if you were new, but you had built a reputation around here. why would anybody believe floating rumors about you now?
but the abundance of stares didn’t end there. even in the cafe, you had caught someone watching you a little too hard to be a casual leer of admiration. and you were determined to find out why.
fortunately, you were able to find jennie and roseanne walking and talking in the courtyard, and you called out their names to stop them.
jennie turned first, and you watched her smile drop in real time. she glanced around, frantic, as if she was worried about someone watching her too.
roseanne smiled thinly, halfheartedly lifting her hand to wave. “hey,” she greeted quietly, matching jennie’s nerves.
they knew something you didn’t and it was glaringly obvious. “what’s going on?” you asked. “everyone’s looking at me and i know i’m not going crazy yet.”
jennie and roseanne glanced between each other, as if they both had bad news but neither of them wanted to be the one to tell you. after a few seconds, jennie groaned and said, “you might want to check top ten.”
your brows furrowed. you, on top ten? again? god, people could be so infuriating. “ugh, what rumor did they spread about me this time?”
jennie winced, which only made you more anxious. “it’s not just a rumor,” she whispered. “…it’s a video.”
“video?” you echoed in disbelief. that didn’t make sense. you hadn’t been with anyone except… except jake. you tensed with anger.
roseanne opened her phone to show you the video that had been posted. it was an anonymous submission that claimed to be a recording of you. unfortunately, it was you, bits of your chest exposed from jake reaching into your shirt and drops of cum landing there as you fought for breath. your face wasn’t visible, but there were some other distinguishing signs, like your hair and skin and sheets.
your heart thudded and your shoulders went cold, but your eyes were scalding. you were well aware that jake didn’t like you, you didn’t exactly love him either, but you never thought he would stoop low enough to hurt you like this.
“i’m sorry,” roseanne apologized, dropping her phone in her purse when you were done. the video was only a few seconds long, but the damage was forever. “but don’t worry. it’s not like it’s top three worthy. everyone will move on next week.”
jennie nodded in agreement and briefly patted your back. “yeah. we’ll hang out again when this all blows over, i promise.”
then, they walked away. leaving you reeling with ache and betrayal. your friends didn’t want to be seen with you anymore. you were an embarrassment.
you swallowed the bitter feeling scorching up your throat and tapped your pockets for your phone, knowing there was one person you needed to see. 
you: you and i need to talk. right now.
jake: about what?
you: don’t play dumb, i know you sent that video in!
jake: maybe u should have swallowed
you: you know what, i don’t need you. i never have. and i don’t want your help anymore. just leave me alone
jake: [one attachment]
jake: you sure about that? because i’m sure there’s plenty of people that would love to see the version with your face in it
you gawked, hiding your phone screen against your chest while glancing around to make sure no one could see.
adjusting your brightness, you unlocked your phone again and texted him back hurriedly.
you: why are you doing this?! i’ve never done anything to you
jake: this is bigger than just you and me
jake: now if you don’t want everyone to see that pretty face, come put those lips around me again and we can work something out
and that was how it started. though you hadn’t had the upper hand in weeks, this was the moment you completely lost it. what was once an arrangement for him to help you in exchange for your attention became a hole of misery that you couldn’t dig yourself out of.
one blowjob became two, and two became three until you started to immediately recognize what it meant when you saw his name appear on your screen, knowing what it was before he even asked. not that he ever technically asked. it was always a command, a claim to your body wherever and whenever he wanted.
if you tried to be strong, if you tried to break free of him, he always threatened to make sure that recordings of you on your knees for him went up for all the world to see and no one would ever think of you the same way again. he was more than willing to taint the pretty, perfect image of yourself that you presented to the world.
you felt stuck, trapped. isolated with nowhere to go, no way out. you tried to conjure up a way to escape this situation, but you couldn’t think of anything feasible. if you wanted to protect what was left of your social life and dignity, if you wanted to go outside without being ashamed, your only option was to be compliant.
no matter how many late nights and sore throats you had to go through.
you were in the middle of dozing off, your head leaning off to the side, when the sound of your phone ringing suddenly jolted you awake. you were tempted to ignore it until you saw the contact and begrudgingly pressed the phone to your ear. “hello?” you grumbled.
“i’ve been texting you,” jake said, sounding miffed.
you sighed, glancing over at the clock on your nightstand. “it’s literally two in the morning,” you complained. “i just got home from cheer practice and i’m trying to study for my last final. i haven’t even showered yet.”
“aw, poor thing,” jake crooned, pretending to care. “come over.”
you heartless, selfish bastard, you snapped in your head. of course, you were in no place to say that out loud, so you settled for a calm, “okay,” and hung up.
stifling a yawn, you grabbed your keys and lazily stepped into a nearby pair of shoes, stretching your arms above your head before willing yourself to get up from your desk chair. then, you accidentally scraped your leg against the bottom drawer of your desk, which you’d accidentally left open. 
“ow!” you cried out, bending down a little. “god, why does this world hate me? what did i do wrong?”
it was a wonder you managed to make it to jake’s apartment without getting into a wreck, although at this point, you wouldn’t care if you had as long as it killed you. or put you into an indefinite coma.
on the other hand, jake seemed strangely enthusiastic to see you and looked full of life and energy. “there you are, cheerleader,” he said, pulling you in to hug you from behind. he led you over to his couch, much like he always did. 
you covered your mouth with your elbow as you yawned. “can we get this over with? i’m sleepy.”
jake chuckled. “i don’t want you to suck me off. not right now.”
your brows furrowed, wondering if you had heard him right. if not for that, then why were the hell were you here?
“i’m sad,” jake said, not even attempting to keep the smug smile off his face. “i need you to cheer me up.”
you blinked at him like he was stupid. “cheer… you up?”
jake nodded his head, glancing you over with a grin. you looked like hell. partly because you were so obviously exhausted, but he knew he’d been having an effect on you too. “yeah, cheer me up. you’re a cheerleader,” he reminded, sounding proud of himself. “i want you to do your routine for me.”
you gawked in disbelief and whined, “i’m not even in my uniform.”
“so?” jake asked. “those bones might be tired, but they still work. matter of fact, take everything off.”
you were quick to exclaim, “what the hell? jake, can i please just do it later? everything hurts.”
“take everything off,” jake repeated, his voice more stern this time. “and move your ass.”
defeated, you reluctantly began to peel off your clothes, ignoring the way jake shamelessly ogled you for the sake of your own comfort and tugging your shirt from above your head. you couldn’t even look at him as you abashedly stepped out of your shorts and panties.
what was even more mortifying was having to perform every stupid little routine for him with your entire body on display and your chest bouncing with every motion. putting on the sweet, forced smile and calling out the chants you’d memorized, all the while ignoring how your bones ached.
when you were done, he made you sit in his lap so he could touch you as he pleased, paying no mind to the way you squirmed uncomfortably.
you cried enough tears to occupy a sixth ocean the next day. you weren’t exactly sure why. you just remembered miraculously waking up in your bed, sitting up and staring into empty space, and the water crashing down after a few minutes. it took you even longer to notice you were sobbing.
after a couple of meaningless hours, you got the random urge to call your moan, yearning to hear her voice. “mommy?” you said when she picked up.
“she calls,” your mother chirped, pleasantly surprised. “hi, baby. i was starting to wonder if you’d forgotten about little ole’ me. you know, you never come see me anymore.”
you forced yourself to laugh, trying to strip your voice of the agony so that she wouldn’t notice. “i know. i’m sorry,” you apologized quietly. “i’ll come see you soon.”
“you better,” your mother snapped playfully, no real malice in her voice. “now, what’d you call me for? and don’t say just to check up on me, because that’s a damn lie.”
“i miss you,” you confessed. 
“a lie don’t care who tell it.”
“ma,” you groaned, knowing she was just messing around. “i swear i do.”
“mm-hm,” your mother hummed. you could already picture her in your head, eyeing you with suspicion, arms folded over her chest. “let me guess why you really called. you’re having boy trouble.”
your eyes flickered in surprise. how did she know? you doubted it was exactly what she was thinking, but she was close enough. “yeah, something like that.”
there was no doubt that your mother sounded excited. you had always seem thoroughly uninterested in boys and dating, and while she was thankful when you were a teenager, it was a little worrying now. “it’s about time,” she said, clasping her hands together. “tell me all about it.”
you sighed, wondering how you could tell her about jake without making her fret. she had gotten all pumped, you didn’t want to tear her down and ruin everything. “well, there’s this guy i met almost two months ago. at first, i didn’t feel anything for him. he was just another boy, you know. someone i could keep around for a good time, not a long one.”
your mother hummed again. you could hear metal pans clacking against her counter and assumed she was cooking. she always did that. 
taking a deep breath, you continued, “but everything changed. he’s different from every other guy i’ve dealt with. he doesn’t just do what i say because i say so. and as the weeks passed, he’s started listening to me less and less than he already was.”
your mother chuckled. “and you didn’t like that, huh? got your mother’s stubborn heart and indomitable spirit.”
in truth, you didn’t think you had half of your mother’s strength, but you would never tell her that. as far as she knew, everything was going perfectly in the life you’d created here on campus. and it probably was the last time you’d spoken to her. “yeah,” you replied, wishing that were true. “i don’t like it. he makes me feel something i’ve never felt before.”
“he makes you feel powerless,” your mother told you. “he’s got you feeling weak because he’s the first man you’ve ever met willing to stand up to you. trust me, i was surprised the first time too. that’s how you got here.”
“ma,” you groaned with a wince.
she laughed. the sound made you happy, something you hadn’t been so certain you were capable of feeling anymore. “i’m just keeping it real.”
you thought about her words. she may have been way off in her perception of what this relationship between you and jake really was, but she wasn’t wrong about how he made you feel. weak, powerless. suddenly, this consuming feeling you’d been having for weeks finally had a name, and yet that made it even harder to come to terms with.
because you didn’t want to be powerless. you wanted to be in charge, in control. you hated when things didn’t go your way, and more importantly, you hated when there was nothing you could do about it. it was supposed to be you wielding power over people’s head, not being crushed beneath the weight of tyranny.
and it was then you fully realized the scope of your feelings; you absolutely hated jake sim.
  ▸ cheerleader? breed her! 
standing there in a skimpy dress, face done and your feet clamped in heels that made you four inches taller, you didn’t feel like yourself.
you thought that you would. in truth, you hadn’t feel like yourself in months. today marked a little over two months since you made the mistake of beginning that agreement with jake and you regretted it more than anything. he had completely ruined you, your life, and everything that made you feel whole.
there were pieces of yourself that you would never get back, thanks to him. it was true that everyone had forgotten about the ordeal regarding the recording of you, but not without cost. it was a price you were still paying everyday; even when you weren’t on your knees or otherwise commiting demeaning acts for the sake of jake’s entertainment, you were hurting and mourning yourself.
you were starting to wonder if it was worth it. obviously, you liked being respected amongst your fellow students, but you were no longer certain if their respect was worth the price of your sanity. it was hard for you to even have basic interactions without giving away how incredibly lonely and isolated you felt, how trapped and doomed you were. helpless and powerless.
jake came up behind you, startling you. he was like a wolf and you were a little lamb masquerading as a wolf. “there you are, baby,” he said, snaking his hands around your waist. he seemed to love doing that. “did you know our anniversary was a few days ago?”
you scoffed. the two-month anniversary of the worst decision of your life to date. there was nothing you would’ve give to undo it. doing your homework yourself would have spared you so much unnecessary pain. “stop doing that,” you whined, scanning the party. “someone will see.”
jake chuckled, clearly not giving a damn. “unlike someone, i don’t really care what people think about me.”
you wished you didn’t care. there would always be a part of you that cared, that was so afraid of what people could say about her that she would do anything to tailor her image perfectly. matter of fact, it was all you had cared about in high school, and every year after that was spent maintaining the brand.
jake’s hand went from your waist to your ass, making you tense in his grasp. “you know, i think i deserve some kind of compensation for putting up with you for two months.”
you deserved that too. freedom. being unshackled from his cruel, unrelenting orders was the one thing you wanted most and the one thing he refused to give you. “don’t you have your compensation almost every day?” you asked irritably.
“that’s not nearly enough,” jake insisted, squeezing your ass.
god, how greedy could someone be? it was like he wanted to bleed you dry until there was nothing left.
“you know what i want?” jake asked huskily, leaning into your ear. “i wanna fuck you.”
your eyes widened a little. you had hoped this day would never come, even though you weren’t oblivious to the fact that jake had steadily gotten bolder in his interactions with you, the things he made you do for his satisfaction becoming entirely more erotic. 
grabbing your arm, jake started to lead you away. “come on, let’s go.”
you rooted in place, nearly stumbling. you didn’t want to go anywhere with him, especially if it meant putting up with his insatiable urges. “jake, i don’t want to,” you said, trying to push at him.
jake scoffed, wondering when you would realize that he didn’t care what you wanted and you had no way of winning. “if you want to make a scene in front of all these lovely people, be my guest,” he hissed in your ear.
panicked, you glanced around the crowd in search of someone that could save you. it was like everybody was looking at you until you actually needed them to. 
then, you locked eyes with jungwon. matter of fact, it seemed like he’d been looking at you much before you’d even glanced in his general direction. he saw you, saw the way jake was holding you roughly, saw the obvious stiffness on your face, saw the pleading look in your eyes; but ultimately, jungwon saw the image of you letting him down after bleeding him dry for half a year, and he turned away.
your shoulders slumped in defeat.
jake started dragging you toward the stairs, pushing past a bunch of drunk people dancing on each other. your heart was thumping, and your whole body was rigid with nerves as you tried to think of a way out of this even though you knew there was no option without consequences.
just your luck, the bathroom jake hauled you too was empty. he pushed you in and locked the door, pressing you against the counter. you gasped and glanced at your reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing yourself. “jake, please,” you whispered, trying to plead with him. “please, don’t do this.”
jake didn’t seem moved by your begging, but he did, however, appear amused. “why are you acting so sensitive about this after all we’ve done together? it’s like you’ve never gotten fucked or something.”
you swallowed, not saying a word. 
the silence was very loud, very telling. jake arched a brow, a realization dawning on him. “you really have never been fucked,” he said, surprised. “damn, i should have figured that out when you were acting like you never sucked dick before.”
your face flushed with heat. it wasn’t like you were necessarily embarrassed about it, not until now. you had always taken it as something to pride yourself on, being fuckable but untouchable. “you say that like it’s a bad thing,” you replied, glancing down at the sink to avoid eye contact.
jake chuckled. it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he had been convinced that you were completely pretending to be a goody two-shoes. to know there was at least one percent of you that was still pure amazed him. he lifted the skirt of your dress with his hand and brought it between your legs, asking, “what, you just never find anyone worthy enough for your perfect, sacred pussy?”
you gasped out when he touched you there. his fingers circled your clothed cunt, thumb digging into your inner thigh. feeling scandalized, you grumbled, “maybe i’m just not interested.”
jake shook his head, astonished by the amount of attitude you still had after all these months and determined to break it out of you. “and maybe i just don’t care if you’re interested or not.”
it went without saying that jake always made you feel like some kind of object, but this was next level. “this is dehumanizing!” you exclaimed. 
hearing you, of all people, talk about dehumanizing made for an interesting conversation. big, calloused hand pressing harder into you, he asked tauntingly, “doesn’t feel good, does it?”
your glossy, painted lips were parted, unable to breathe through your nose. your eyes burned with the threat of tears and it was becoming second nature for them to shed whenever jake was nearby. “i don’t understand,” you whimpered, trying to free yourself, but to no avail. “why are you doing this to me? what have i ever done to deserve this?”
jake could feel you struggling, trying to push him off you, but all it did was move your hips against his rapidly hardening cock. he groaned, grabbing hold of your ass and pushing you further back against him. “fuck, just like that,” he growled. “haven’t i told you this already? this is bigger than you and me.”
it wasn’t lost on you that jake obviously had heard stories about you from other people, stories of happenings you probably couldn’t deny, but it had nothing to do with him. “look, if you’re doing all this to get back at me because i hurt one of your friends or something, i’m sorry, i really am. but i can’t do this anymore, jake. i want to stop, please. please let me go on with my life.”
“what a privileged response,” jake hissed without concealing his vitriol. at the same time, he kept palming you over your panties, noticing them beginning to cling to your cunt, and tore your underwear to the side to insert a pair of fingers inside. “what about all those girls whose lives you ruined? i’m sure they wanted you to stop. and you didn’t until they were too humiliated to show their faces around here again and you had no choice.”
you swallowed the lump in your throat. he knew about the girls? “jake, i haven’t done that since freshman year,” you told him, desperately trying to reason with him.
two loud, harsh smacks echoed in the tiny, crowded space of the bathroom, followed by a gasp consequently. your pussy stung, your head jerking around to look at jake. “do you really think that matters?” he asked, grabbing your hair to turn you back around just as quickly, as if you didn’t deserve to look at him. “you think that matters when the pain you’ve done to them is permanent? they don’t forget. and they damn sure don’t forgive you.”
you tensed, hating the way your walls were gripping and gushing around his fingers. “so what? you think you’re god or something? is this you punishing me for my sins? you’re not exactly what i would call a saint, either.”
“me and you, we’re not the same,” jake remarked, a nip to his tone as if you needed the reminder of how much he disliked you. “you only pick on people that you think are below you somehow. people you think won’t fight back.”
“i know i’m not a good person,” you admitted in between gasps, thighs straining as his fingers pumped into your pussy harder, faster, reaching places you’d never touched on your own. “ i know i don’t deserve to be happy. maybe i don’t even deserve to be treated with respect, but please leave me this one thing. spare me just this once.”
jake laughed cruelly, pulling his fingers out of your drenched hole and smearing your juices all over your folds and thighs. his finger unintentionally swiped over your sensitive clit, making your legs quiver and your stomach tighten, sucking in itself.
“damn, baby. you really know how to hurt my feelings,” jake said, voice dripping with sarcasm. he withdrew his fingers, bringing them into his mouth for a taste. “you don’t want me to fuck you that bad?”
your heart was spiking with dread, thumping belligerently in your chest, your ears, and between your legs. no one had ever made you feel so vanquished.
“take my dick out,” jake said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “hurry up.”
you sighed anguishedly, turning around to undo his pants and slip his aching dick out of its confinements. for months, jake had been suppressing the urge to fuck you, wanting to wait for the moment where it would be most pivotal.
getting a hold of your throat, jake roughly yanked you flush against him the second you whirled back around to face the tiny bathroom counter, making you stand tall against his chest. his voice was almost as rough as the hands that held you. “put it in.”
you gawked, shaking your head.
his fingers tightened dangerously around your windpipe, making your damp eyes widen and your jaw slack against his whitening knuckles, maybe half a wheeze making its way out your throat before he warned, “if i have to fucking tell you again, i’m gonna crush every bone in your goddamn neck.”
with no other option, you meekly reached behind you to grasp him in your quivering hand, aimlessly steering him to your hole and sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as the tip brushed past your dripping folds. jake released a shaky breath, slapping your hand away and rutting his hips into you from behind, sheathing himself inside in one go.
he slackened his unforgiving grip on your throat, shoving you back against the counter none too gently, but you still felt like you couldn’t breathe when he entered you, a mangled whimper echoing out. your fingers desperately braced the edges of the counter for purchase as you tried to will yourself to inhale, but it was like you were choking.
jake had a death grip on your thighs, forcibly pushing them apart a little more as he coated himself with the creamy, hot wetness of your unwanted arousal. “mm, hard to believe you don’t secretly want me when you’re sucking me in like this, baby,” he said, proud.
you shook your head in denial, face flushing with a heat that spread to your ears and neck. it didn’t help that there were beads of salty, hot tears pouring down your face and reducing your vision to one big, hazy blur. you didn’t want him, not even a little bit. but you couldn’t control the way your body was responding.
the lewd, wet smack of his cock thrusting deeply into your tight cunt rang out so loudly that you wanted nothing more than to hide into oblivion and never be seen again, mortified. it made things seem so much different than they were. his long, thick cock was stretching you beyond the cusp your limits and making you gape.
“i’m so nice to you,” jake said, tipping his head back. you could see his chest rising and falling through his clothes, his body taut with pleasure and excitement. “i’ve been holding back for so long, trying not to fuck you. won’t keep me out this pussy now. i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out. have you at practice limping.”
your knees, wobbly as they already were, began knocking into the cabinets at the bottom of the sink. you winced your eyes closed as your fingers curled around the edge of the counter roughly enough to change the color around your knuckles, hoping to think of something, anything, to take you out of the moment.
but it was too hard. you couldn’t ignore the throb of your gushing walls as they kneaded his cock, making him grunt in your ear as he leaned over your backside. you couldn’t ignore the faint sting of his nails stabbing your hips and his heavy palm slapping repeatedly against your ass. and you definitely couldn’t ignore the dirtiness staining you from head to toe.
sure, it felt good, his body rocking against yours steadily, but it didn’t feel right. many nights you had pictured what losing your virginity would be like, both the way that it was supposed to look and the way that you were more inclined to, but this was neither; it was heartless, it was punishing, and it was brutal.
jake grabbed you by your hair and forced you to look into the mirror, yanking your head up. “there it is,” he spat, words sounding painfully familiar. “there’s the real you.”
your hair was messy from him tugging it every which way, treating you like a doll to mishandle. your makeup was ruined from your sobbing, the path of your tears harsh against everything else. your eyes were red and your right lash looked like it was barely holding on, the effect of rubbing at your face.
jake watched you take in the destroyed sight of yourself, practically hearing the critical thoughts hopping in your mind. “this is what you really are. this is what you’re sucking my dick to keep hidden from the world. is it worth it, baby? or do you just like the way i taste on your tongue?”
no, it wasn’t worth it. you were beginning to understand that now. he was taking too much from you, too much of your peace and too much of your sanity. maybe it would be better to be judged and lonely but free than to be loved by people whose opinion of you could change on a dime anyway at the expense of your soul. 
your pride had been buried a long time ago, brutally murdered in her sleep. “jake, please stop. i’m uncomfortable,” you complained, tearing your eyes away from your reflection in shame.
jake smacked your ass again, making you cry out sharply. “you just love being the victim when it’s convenient for you, huh?”
“i’m sorry!” you whimpered. “i don’t know what you want me to do. what do you want? just tell me.”
jake snickered, running his hands over your hips and waist to knead the flesh. then, he brushed your hair out of your face, nibbling at the skin behind your ear before growling, “you know what i want, cheerleader? i want to assassinate all there is that you love about yourself and leave everything else untouched, so that you understand not why everybody hates you, but why nobody loves you.”
those words hit you straight in the gut. for the first time, you had no retort, no comeback. 
hips beginning to move faster, jake continued, “the boys don’t love you, they just want to fuck you. they would kill to be as deep inside you as i am. the girls sure as hell don’t love you. they either want to be you, or they resent you for beating their asses. and don’t get me started on those girls you call friends.”
“jake, stop,” you whispered, an agony vicious enough to rip through flesh tearing you straight in half. 
but jake didn’t listen. he wasn’t done, not until he made his point. “don’t think i didn’t notice how lonely you were for the whole week everybody was talking shit about you. they didn’t want to touch you with a six foot pole, did they? they don’t want to be seen with you unless it gives them a good rep.”
there was a pang in your chest. you didn’t want to admit it, but that cut deep. you had heard people say mean things about you before, it was to expected when you were an emblem of popularity on campus, but few things had reached you where it hurt.
jake stroked your messy cheek, almost with affection. “but it’s okay. because you want to know something, baby? it was hard for me to admit it to myself, but you truly fascinate me. i can’t get you out of my head sometimes. you piss me off every time without fail, but i keep coming back to you. i like you, baby. if no one else does. you grew on me.”
you weren’t sure if that was supposed to make you feel better, but it didn’t. if anything, you only felt more heartbroken and wounded not only by his words, but by your inability to counter them. it truly dawned on you, right then, just how alone you were.
jake threw his head back, grunting. his hips were moving with a mind of their own, eager to finish. “fuck, i’m gonna come.”
your eyes went wide in panic, remembering that he had gone in bareback. 
“jake, don’t…”
before you could even finish your statement, jake clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling your protests into his pale palm. “you know what guys at my school used to say about cheerleaders?” he asked, obviously not expecting a response. “‘see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader.’ ‘cheerleader? breed her.’”
you thrashed, but it was pointless. those thick, burly biceps of jake’s were one of the first things you noticed about him and they weren’t just for display. he held you in place as he quickened his pace again, his thrusts unrelenting.
with a couple more quick yet shockingly rhythmic thrusts, jake emptied his load deep, deep inside you. he moaned, moving his hands from your mouth to your hips to keep himself steady as he reeled from the pleasure of a mind-numbing orgasm. “goddamn,” he cursed, panting for breath.
you stifled a small noise as you felt his warmth flooding into you, unsure how to feel at this point. 
to your surprise, jake started fucking you again, never once daring to pull out as if he was determined to fuck every drop of his sticky cum as deep inside you as it could reach. his stringy, thick load gathered on his dick and inside your pussy, leaking down your thighs as he kept going.
you gasped out, moans involuntarily leaving you as you were stuffed full of him over and over. you didn’t mean to, but it was impossible to control.
then, jake stuck a hand between your legs and rolled his thumb over your clit, which didn’t help. you cried out, tensing. “jake, stop! it’s sensitive.”
“that’s the point, dummy,” jake replied, stimulating your clit with his hand while simultaneously pumping himself into you from behind.
your core tightened, heat wafting over you as your chest heaved wildly. “what are you doing?” you stammered. 
jake smiled, watching in the mirror how your face tensed with a blend of confusion and ecstasy that you couldn’t rein. “you really think i’m an asshole, huh? i’m trying to make you come. relax and let me.”
you shook your head. you didn’t want to come, not for him, and most definitely not on his cock for him to feel every unintentional shudder of your pussy as it gushed and pulsed with hot, sweet release; that would be embarrassing.
that made jake chuckle. “no? you don’t wanna come for me, baby?” he asked, furrowing his brows playfully as he tilted your face back up to the mirror with a push of your jaw. “come on, let go. you keep saying i’m not a good guy, but you shoot me down when i try to be nice.”
you moaned again, against your own reason and better judgment. “please,” you rasped with half a breath.
“please, what?” jake asked, rubbing you with just a pinch more force. “do you even know?”
god, you hated him; you absolutely despised him. but damn, if it didn’t feel good to have someone touch you after you’d spent so long avoiding sex like it was something to be ashamed of.
and this? this was definitely something you were ashamed of.
and yet the most shameful moment, perhaps, was when you finally couldn’t resist the pleasure of his big, long fingers twirling around your sensitive nub and his brutal hips smacking into you with a vengeance, clamping around him as you orgasmed with a loud cry and the heat shot through every corner of your body.
“shit,” jake hissed, the feel of you finishing around him draining the cum from his balls for a second time.
your jaw slacked, overwhelmed by how you felt completely and utterly stuffed, ropes of his cum filling you to the hilt. jake thrusted into you a little more, sending a flare through your back and shoulders, until he stilled for good. you could hear him panting behind you.
after a moment or two, jake pulled out. hand between your thighs, he gathered some of his stringy release on his finger and brought it up to your lips. “open up. don’t make me say it again.”
you opened your mouth wide enough for him to insert two of his cum-coated fingers inside. then, you sucked at them and swallowed it down, knowing those would be the next words to leave his mouth. 
jake raised a brow, pleasantly surprised. he took his time to withdraw his fingers, enjoying the sensation of you licking them clean. “see, i knew you loved eating my cum.”
your face burned, but you didn’t have the energy to deny it. not after that. it felt like there was a gaping hole in your chest, a void that would never be filled. 
“you’re learning,” jake commented, humming in satisfaction. “good girl. you know, maybe one day we can get along. don’t you think?”
“yeah,” you murmured weakly. at this point, you would just go along with whatever he said. and maybe that was why he figured you could experience some peace together now.
keeping your dress bunched up, jake grabbed some tissues from his left and started to wipe at you. “let’s get you cleaned up before we leave, cheerleader. don’t want the entire student body to see you like this, right?”
you whipped your head around, eyes widening in surprise. leaving to go where? certainly you weren’t going home with him after tonight. 
“did you think i was kidding?” jake asked with a sly smile, slipping your panties backing in place and giving your shoulder a fleeting kiss. “i told you, i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out.”
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revehae · 1 month ago
Text
see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader
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pairing ↠ """nerd!"""jeno x (f) cheerleader!reader
genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, dubcon, oral (m receiving), male face sitting, face fucking, unprotected sex, blackmail, choking, hitting, virgin!reader
summary ↠ ever since forever, you have always gotten your way with people by whatever means necessary. a wink and a smile is all it takes to make a boy drop to your feet and worship you. no one told you to think that lee jeno would be any different. as it turns out, actions do have consequences.
wc ↠ 14.9k
a/n ↠ lowkey i think i subconsciously drew inspo from the fact that finals week made me consider both suicide and homicide. no jungwoo’s were hurt in the making of this fic. merry christmas! as always, feedback is appreciated!
don’t like it, don’t read.
  ▸ short, sweet, sometimes sticky
it was supposed to be like everybody else.
short, sweet, maybe sticky if you considered that one time you’d shaken that jisung boy’s sweat-coated hands and watched the pale of his face burn the same fierce rose as the lens he saw you through. 
you’d laughed lightheartedly to spare him the embarrassment, telling him that everybody got a little sweaty every now and then, especially you. after all, cheerleading was more than skipping around and twirling. and at those words, you’d watched his eyes haze with the image of you damp with sweat, drenched head to toe.
hook, line, and sinker.
far too easy, exactly how you liked them. smart, easy, and utterly unable to resist you.
no one told you to expect something different from lee jeno. and why would you? he knew all the right answers, had some of the best marks, and practically lived in the library. he perfectly fit the bill of your standard victim.
which was why you had no qualms about approaching him in the library while he was typing away at his laptop, occasionally sipping from some kind of coffee.
as if he could sense he was in imminent danger and needed to evacuate immediately, jeno turned around before you could even make it completely to the table and saw you advancing on him with a pretty, practiced smile. “hi,” you greeted, waving at him. falling, your hands gripped the rear of the chair beside him. “is someone sitting here?”
jeno raised a brow at you, but shook his head. “no, no one’s sitting there.”
“perfect,” you replied, pulling out the chair and taking a seat. you turned so that you were facing him. “jeno, right?”
jeno nodded slowly, wondering where this was going. he got plenty girls, sure, but none ever approached him in the library. “that’s me,” he said, curious. “do i know you?”
“well, probably not,” you replied, giggling as if something was funny. “but, you know… i’m a cheerleader.”
jeno hummed. “are you now?”
you bobbed your head expectantly. “yeah, and i’ve heard about how smart you are. i’m impressed, to be honest. i mean, every time i’m in the library, i see you sitting here. i could never spend so much time here. you must have a lot of resolve to do something like that.”
“you think so?” jeno asked, pretending to be flattered just to see where you were leading him. 
“i do. like, really do,” you replied, brushing your fingers against his forearm. “i just have so many other,” better, “things to do, you know. with cheer, i’m either practicing or resting so that i’ll have energy for practice. it’s really hard on me, you know?”
jeno stifled a chuckle and glanced back at his laptop screen. “you poor thing.”
your brows stitched. he wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to you. it was almost like he was uninterested. “and that’s why i was wondering if you could help me. i mean, you’re such a genius. you could probably do it in half the time it would take me,” you continued, lowering your hand onto his denim-clad thigh, and becoming surprised by how sturdy it felt.
jeno spared a fleeting glance at your hand on his left thigh before his eyes flitted to your face, watching you wink at him and throw him a smile. “let me get this straight,” he started, slowly caressing the back of your hand with his thumb as it sat on his thigh. “you want me to… do your work for you?”
“hey, your hard work wouldn’t go unrewarded,” you insisted, ignoring the unexpected motions of his thumb. “you’d have my attention. i mean, like i said, i don’t have a lot of time to give away. but i’m willing to spend some of it on you.”
jeno snickered, unable to help himself anymore. “are you this patronizing to everyone you meet?” he asked.
your eyes flickered. “p-patronizing?”
jeno smiled, patting your hand before setting it on your own thigh. “sorry, was that a big word for you? you know, when you think you’re too good for something, but you don’t want to say it, so you play sweet and act like you’re helping me, when really, it’s the other way around.”
switching on a dime, you narrowed your eyes at him. for such a pretty boy, he had quite the attitude. “i know what patronizing means. and right now, i think you’re the one being patronizing.”
“am i?” jeno asked, feigning obliviousness. “how’s it taste, cheerleader? doesn’t feel good, does it?”
your face was set in a scowl. sometimes it hurt you to play nice with people, and now was one of those times. “are you gonna help me or not?” you snapped.
“there it is,” jeno sang, chuckling to himself. he put his hand on your thigh now, squeezing the flesh gently. for now. “there’s the real you.”
you swallowed, glaring over at him with a hint of defiance despite the disgusting, foreign feeling rotting in your chest. it had never gone like this before. every situation predating this one had been somewhat predictable, to the point where you’d come to expect certain reactions. this was not that.
“i’ll help you,” jeno said after a pause.
you forced a smile. “great, so…”
jeno interjected, “on one condition.”
smile faltering, you trailed off, processing his words. now he was making some kind of deal with you? who in the hell did this man think he was?
“on one condition?” you echoed, as if you’d somehow misheard him. your brows scrunched in suspicion. “what condition?”
jeno grinned, the look on his face sly as hell and a stark contrast from the disgruntled glower on yours. “give me something in return,” was all he said, the tightening hold on your thigh giving away more than his words had.
you gawked, as if you were offended, and quickly swat at his hand. “i’m not having sex with you, you pervert!”
“sure, you’re not,” jeno answered with a chuckle, eyes twinkling with amusement. everything about you was alluring to him for mostly all the reasons unintended. “but you said i’d have your attention. i guess you think it’s not often a poor, busy nerd like myself gets anyone’s attention, yeah? but nerds get tired too, don’t they? they need to de-stress…”
“that’s not my problem,” you spat. 
“you getting an F isn’t my problem, either,” jeno retorted, shrugging his shoulders. “so what it’s gonna be, cheerleader?”
something about this situation isn’t right to you. maybe it’s the lack of power you currently wielded over him, despite the fact that you had gotten used to having your way with academically competent boys like himself. if he weren’t taller than you and stronger than you, you’d resort to other, more familiar methods.
but jeno had changed the entire trajectory of this interaction for the worse, and now you had to determine whether or not it was beneath you to let him treat you as if you were some kind of object. you sulkily mulled it over, arms folded, trying to think of a way to maintain some semblance of power. “fine,” you finally replied, relenting. “but i’m not doing anything that requires me taking my clothes off.”
“you never seen a good porno, cheerleader?” jeno asked, a stupid, taunting smile blemishing his lips. “that cute little uniform of yours is the whole appeal to some people.”
“my name is…,” you huffed irritably, tired of being referred to by your title. 
“frankly, cheerleader, i don’t care what your name is,” jeno told you with brutal honesty. “you’re the one that introduced yourself as a cheerleader, like that’s your whole personality or something. thinking it would make me fold. you can’t be stupid and demanding.”
you gaped, affronted by the sheer audacity of him to even utter those words to you, like you were some dumb bimbo. “i’m not stupid! i’m just too busy.”
“right. too busy,” jeno echoed, obviously none too convinced. “sorry for assuming.”
with a roll of your eyes, you stood up from the table chair, feeling utterly disrespected. “yeah, you should be,” you said, despite knowing his apology was completely inauthentic. “where’s your phone?”
jeno arched a brow and glanced over to his phone, sitting face down against the table on the other side of him. before he could even respond, you reached over him to grab it and pointed it at his face, unlocking it as if you’d done it a million times before.
then, you started typing away, all the while jeno watched you with an amused expression on his face. he had to admit, you were surely something. and though he found you entertaining, he couldn’t shake the thought that you desperately needed someone to put you in your place.
“reach me here,” you said after a moment, handing him his phone back. the screen was on his messages, a fresh contact with you.  “pleasure doing business with you.”
with that, you walked away. 
jeno shook his head, scoffing. who the hell did you think you were?
over the next few days or so, you met with jeno to better construct exactly what your expectations were pertaining to your work. or at least, those were the words he’d used. most of those limited encounters had ended with his hands sealing around your breasts.
you let it slide, deciding that a little over-the-clothes stuff was relatively harmless. after all, this was the busiest you’d been all year long, and you were far too exhausted when you got home to be burdened with stupid assignments and pesky discussion posts. the next two months, if not the next two weeks, were going to kill you if you didn’t have someone to carry at least half the workload on your behalf.
it was okay. jeno’s inability to keep his hands to himself was fine. it wasn’t like anybody was going to know, or that this arrangement would last long enough for them to find out. you would get to keep your dignity and your grades, without saving one at the expense of the other.
short, sweet, and sticky, remember? maybe the latter was simply manifesting in the way jeno’s hands were stuck to you. not that anything about him was sweet.
more like sacrifice.
  ▸ gilded age
“guess who just made the list of this week’s top ten trending sluts,” jennie said as she walked up beside you and roseanne.
roseanne perked up that, though she couldn’t help but mischievously quip, “you?”
jennie narrowed her eyes. “hoe, as if,” she spat. “i know how to keep my legs closed.”
you snickered. “god, what happened now?”
“a sex tape got leaked. hyeri, and apparently johnny.”
your nose scrunched, as if disgusted. “always knew she was a slut. i mean, you should have been there to see the way she acted around the jocks in high school. her eyes were practically screaming, ‘pick me, choose me, fuck me,’” you mocked.
roseanne burst into giggles, downing the rest of what was left in her red cup. “i don’t think that’s how that goes,” she chimed. “but johnny? is she crazy? i hope they didn’t do it raw. i heard rumors that he’s got the clap.” 
“he sure clapped something, alright,” jennie retorted, much to your amusement. “it was definitely raw. hope it was worth the itch. you guys wanna see?”
“absolutely not,” you said, shaking your head vigorously. “i bet her parents would love to see it, though. on second thought, send me it.”
roseanne gawked. “are you serious?”
you bobbed your head, grinning deviously. “yeah. you guys have no idea what that bitch was like in high school. i tried teaching her a lesson, but she just never learned. it’s like the bitch is addicted to pain or something.”
jennie shook her head, pretending to disapprove, though she was intrigued to see how far you would your obvious loathing. “just sent it.”
your phone vibrated in your hand a few seconds later. you opened your instagram burner account, scrolling through your main’s following to find hyeri’s mother’s page, and dropped the video in her inbox. your sly giggle alerted your friends to your success and you dropped your phone in your pocket, satisfied.
“oh, you’re sick,” jennie insulted playfully, nudging your arm. “i wonder if she’ll say anything.”
you shrugged your shoulders, feigning nonchalance as if you weren’t excited to see how her mother would respond. “don’t know, but i’m more curious about if she’ll talk to hyeri about it. i’d love to be a fly on the myung’s wall when that happens.”
roseanne tapped your shoulder. “hey, don’t look now, but that jeno guy is staring you.”
your head whirled around, spotting jeno in his own corner of the party, indeed watching your every move as if he wanted to consume you and was waiting for the perfect moment to attack. which, if he was, would not be surprising. 
roseanne sighed in annoyance. “i literally just said don’t look now.”
you turned back to face them, shaking your head. “don’t worry about that creep,” you replied, brushing it off. “he’s just begging to get in my pants. didn’t even know he went to parties.”
for whatever reason, jennie laughed. something about what you said tickled her, apparently. “um, yeah. that’s jeno for you, alright. he’s either partying with his friends or grinding in the library, no in between. perfectly balanced lifestyle, i have to admit it.”
your brows furrowed. that was news to you. and probably an important piece of information that you’d conveniently missed when narrowing down your targets. maybe you should have asked around about him more. you just didn’t think that someone who studied as hard as he did could also be the life of the party.
what was he doing here, anyway? shouldn’t he have been off doing your homework? useless fucking nerdy-not.
“do you guys know each other or something?” roseanne pressed, noticing the strange tension in the air despite the fact that you and jeno were feet apart. which was honestly admirable. “do you think you could get him to put me on with jungwoo?”
jennie’s laughter rang out again, only this time, it was much louder, and much more mocking. “please. jungwoo isn’t gonna touch any of us after how she broke his heart. you’d have better luck with jaehyun,” she sneered.
roseanne glared, a snarl on her face. “fuck jaehyun.”
“yeah, i bet you want to. i bet you’re still dreaming of that big, thick, meaty dick you wouldn’t shut up about, like, two months ago.”
“a lot can change in two months.”
“oh, it sure can,” jennie replied, humming. “it sure can.”
  ▸ takes two to tango
jeno: come over
you: no
jeno: that wasn’t a request 
you: no where in our agreement does it say you get to boss me around
jeno: not even for an A?
you: that’s what your grabby hands are for
jeno: i don’t have to do this, you know. i can let you be a grown up and fiend for yourself like the rest of us
you: i’m otw, chill. jesus
the knock of your fist against jeno’s door was incessant, more than likely enough to exasperate his neighbors, given that it was particularly late at night and a good number of them had to have been sleeping.
jeno threw the door open with a scowl, obviously irritated. “you are so fucking annoying,” he hissed, dragging you inside and shutting the door behind you. 
“ow!” you cried out, snatching your arm away. “stop that, i’m sore.”
jeno shook his head, his discontent frown disappearing in favor of an entertained, idiotic smile. “sore, huh? from doing what?”
you rolled your eyes. “if it isn’t obvious, i’m a cheerleader,” you reminded, gesturing down to your uniform. “meaning, i cheer.”
ignoring your snarky attitude, jeno glanced you up in down, taking in the sight of you in that tight, short cheer uniform that clung to you rather snugly. sweat still beaded at your damp legs and likely gathered between your breasts and down your back, as jeno was imagining. “yeah, you cheer. you won’t let me forget,” he said, amused.
“well, i’m busy,” you said, crossing your arms.
busy, my fucking ass, jeno thought to himself. ��yeah, you won’t let me forget that, either. and yet, i saw you giggling with your friends at a party two weeks ago, looking completely fine. your poor, exhausted legs seemed to be working perfectly.”
“what, so i can’t have hobbies now?”
“sure, you can,” jeno replied, shrugging his shoulders. “i just have to ask, do you ever do anything productive with your time?”
“of course, i do,” you hissed, before quickly deflecting, “but we both know that’s not why you made me come all the way over here. so, what do you want?”
“your attention,” jeno said without missing a beat. his hands plopped against your bare shoulders and began wandering down your arms, rubbing them back and forth. “i’m in desperate need of a cheerleader’s sweet, precious attention.”
the disgruntled grimace on your face was the most effort you made to express your discomfort, not that he was looking there anyway. to him, at the moment, the sight of your body was much more appetizing. you watched with a repugnant burn simmering in your gaze as his eyes met your long, slender legs.
without warning, jeno grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you into the air, making you cry out in surprise. arms dangling around his neck, you held on for dear life, not an inch of your body feeling safe in his arms. you had been hauled further away from the ground by your cheermates, but this was different; no one wanted to fail, meaning no one would drop you. you had no reason to assume that jeno would handle you delicately.
but his burly arms, however, were not lost on you. though you hadn’t yet seen them in full power, your interactions mostly taking form of him forcing your back flush against the chiseled muscle of his chest as he kneaded yours, you could only imagine what the hands that groped you were capable of. 
in a matter of seconds, you landed on your back against his sheets, another shrill screech escaping your throat. “jeno, what the hell?” you exclaimed. 
“i’m not getting on my knees for you,” jeno said, the slyest of smiles tugging at his lips. “not unless it’s to fuck you. and you’re just too good to give it up, aren’t you?”
for him, definitely. and you would have said so, but your lips parted in a gasp, surprised and startled. something wet pushed along your sore legs, which were abruptly yanked to pillars far above your head so that they’d be more conveniently within reach of jeno’s tongue as he licked long, hot lines at them.
your eyes were rooted on him, fixed in a shape unlike their natural narrowed, black blaze and it would instead be more apt likening them to the fear and fret of a deer in crossed paths. wide, waiting, almost innocent. too used to circumstance to understand its fabric and too unfamiliar to chance to understand its fate.
unsatisfied, jeno bent your knee and pushed your leg further as he stood over the edge of his bed, and, in turn, over you, a grip on your ankles that you could feel in your bones. “jeno, that hurts,” you whined. 
jeno didn’t understand why you were bitching. “but you’re a cheerleader,” he echoed. “aren’t you flexible?”
you writhed uncomfortably as he continued shamelessly, tongue even daring to twist against the bone underneath the bend of your knee, a sensation that itched more than you expected. his lips sealed around your skin, sucking and nibbling.
needless to say, it was unlike anything you had experienced before. “stop, that’s weird!”
“stop complaining,” jeno groaned, pushing your leg even harder. “it’s like all you ever do is complain about how hard your life is.”
your eyes stung now not only with loathing, but the threat of hot tears. it was stupid; it sounded dramatic, but you felt it was warranted when he was the one actively making your life harder. “you’re a fucking weirdo,” you snapped. 
jeno heard it. the slight tremble in your voice despite the courage you’d been feigning. that was the sole reason he even bothered to look up at your face, the tears in them stealing his attention away in a heartbeat. he didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed, or maybe even both. “god, now you’re crying,” he pointed out. “i haven’t even done anything to you. do you need me to give you a reason to cry?”
you shook your head. all you needed was to go home and recharge. you were beginning to doubt whether or not he was worth the trouble he carried with him in exchange for a grade that would keep your parents off your back, especially if he was going to make pulling stunts like this a regular habit. 
the last thing you expected jeno to do was tug the bottom of your top past the shadow of your breasts, slackening the taut grip on your ankles in favor of your wrists as if he knew you would dare resist him, and burying his face between your chest. you exhaled shakily, mortified by the hot, wet feel of his tongue licking a stripe between your breasts, gathering leftover sweat on its tip.
and you did thrash. but you were getting a taste of that power now; a power that wasn’t your own, a power that you couldn’t reap. a power that grabbed you with its calloused fist with a might so strong you couldn’t move. and it was for the first time that you felt utterly weak. there had to be a word for something as unfathomable as that, but it was so foreign to you that you couldn’t think of it.
to make matters worse, jeno was taking his time, sucking bruises onto the skin of your chest in between his licking, as if he wanted to ensure there was no spot left untouched, no drop of sweat left behind. your face strained with discomfort, wanting more than anything to get away from him and this awful feeling rotting inside of your heart.
maybe your cries for mercy were heard, because no sooner had you hoped for an end than it came. “you can go now,” jeno said, pulling away. he pulled your shirt back down and smoothed out any wrinkles, which was almost kind of him.
even though you were more than eager to be rid of him, you lay there, dumbfounded. it was one thing to be violated, and it was another to be dismissed, but to happen in rapid succession of each other quickly bred some ugly emotion that was only festering.
jeno had expected you to scurry out of his bed, and out of his apartment, so the fact that you were still there bemused him. “what, do you want more?” he teased. 
you shook your head, sitting up a little too quickly. your head started to feel lightheaded. you barked, “that isn’t what i agreed to!”
jeno had the audacity to laugh. like you had told a joke of some kind. “isn’t it? your clothes are still technically on. that was what you agreed to. remember?”
you dropped to your feet, pushing past him. “you’re disgusting,” was all you said, making a beeline for the door.
“takes two to tango, baby,” jeno called after you, simpering.
you didn’t look back. you couldn’t. there was an unpleasant stir in your gut - not as easily distinguishable as the loathing - unlike anything you had ever felt and you desperately wanted it to go away, to rid of yourself of anything that even remotely resembled lee jeno.
  ▸ chess, not checkers
deep, low grunts smacked against the walls and bounced back with almost the same amount of vigor of jeno’s quick, unrelenting hips, the sound nearly as hard and heavy as he was. the only thing rivaling the tightness of the hole he was using was the wince of his closed eyes and the grip of his strong hands.
jeno didn’t want to see. it would be too blatantly obvious that she wasn’t you, and that it wasn’t your blemished hips he was holding. though she sounded nothing like you. he knew that you would have been so much whinier, and despite finding them painfully obnoxious, he found himself longing to hear all your worthless, melodramatic complaints.
instead, he heard soft moans mingling with his own labored sounds as his hips moved with a mind of their own, imagining it was you underneath him where you truly belonged.
the image stained the back of his eyelids, burned behind them every time he closed his eyes; the shortness of your pleated skirt scrunched around your hips, weak legs on his broad shoulders with nicks and bruises scattered here and there, arms swinging aimlessly.
and if he got tired of hearing you, he could simply press his palm squarely against your mouth, muting the sound of your incessant fussing. if he really wanted to put you in your place, he could clasp his hands around your throat and clamp down onto your windpipe till all that escaped you was a pitiful, featherlight squeak.
jeno could tell no one had ever properly put you in your place before, no one had ever stood up to you and reminded you of your level. you were in desperate need of a humbling and didn’t even know it yourself. no one better than jeno for the role, he figured. a little cheerleader parading around in a uniform to feel different from everybody else she met didn’t scare him whatsoever.
the only thing saving you was essentially the fact that you were undeniably pretty and not necessarily to blame for the school’s superficial culture, which elevated girls like you in terms of status despite it having no real meaning or manifestations outside of campus, and put you on top when you were within the bubble.
but outside the bubble, away from the boys who thought of you as this beautiful, unattainable poison and the girls who enabled you with a faux sense of togetherness, you had no real identity, no real power, and no real worth.
and yet, maybe jeno was contributing to the problem. maybe he had inadvertently become one of the people elevating you. because choking in the heat of the moment, he uttered your name, forgetting who he was with and where he was.
hands shoved at him, hard. at least, hard enough for him to be jolted out of his reverie, finally gazing into the eyes that seethed because of him. “did you just call me that evil witch’s name?” seoa barked.
jeno winced. that was a fair reaction, all things considered. he wouldn’t have wanted to have been called your name out of everyone’s, either. he rubbed his nape. “well…”
“unbelievable,” seoa replied, scoffing. she got out of the bed and hurriedly began picking her clothes up from the floor, redressing herself.
jeno exhaled a breath, mostly annoyed that his orgasm had been ruined, but still feeling a hint of sympathy. “seoa, wait,” he said, touching her shoulder.
seoa recoiled, pulling away. jeno had never seen anyone be so ready to put on their pants after being with him, not even with a hell of a schedule after. “never touch me again,” she spat, walking out with her shoes in tow. “fuck you.”
jeno ran a hand through his hair, watching her leave, and murmured under his breath, “god dammit.”
a few days later, while they were attending a festival, jaemin marched over to jeno, draping an arm over his shoulder, and asked, “wanna tell me why seoa blocked all of us and she’s been glaring at me and mark since she got here?”
jeno snickered, shaking his head in slight disbelief. he was over it by now, he figured she would be too. “i let a certain cheerleader’s name slip while i was balls deep inside her,” he confessed. which he wasn’t necessarily proud of, considering the only reason he even knew your name was because you’d saved your own contact on his phone.
jaemin’s brows furrowed, glancing around as if he was trying to spot you in the crowd like a heat-seeking missle. “who?”
rolling his eyes, jeno grabbed the back of jaemin’s head with one hand and turned it in your general direction, hoping it would help. and jeno knew it had when jaemin’s confusion melted into disgust. 
“oh, that bitch?” he asked, nose wrinkled.
jeno chuckled, releasing his friend’s head. “she’s a bitch, but she’s pretty.”
jaemin couldn’t argue with that fact even if he’d wanted to. “yeah, i’ll give her that. cute in the face. she’s fake as hell, though. played jungwoo like a fiddle. he did six months worth of her homework because she promised they’d get together.”
that was news to jeno. he knew you were cruel, having had stories from jisung and the like, but he never knew of your history with jungwoo. if it could be called that. “did they fuck?” he couldn’t help but ask.
jaemin shook his head, taking a sip from the bottle in his hand before he answered, “he said she always turned him down. told him she was waiting for ‘the perfect moment.’”
now that was funny as hell. jeno had only known you for a few weeks and yet even he quickly pieced together that you weren’t the romantic type. “well, that’s fucked up,” he said, happily accepting yet another reason to dislike you. “but he’s dumb as fuck if he did her homework for six months without getting a crumb of pussy in return.”
jaemin made a face, nodding. “yeah,” he exhaled, giving the impression that he’d wanted to defend jungwoo. “but man, what possessed you to say her name while fucking the seoa? i need a good excuse. you just blew my shot with her.”
jeno shrugged. “don’t have one. she approached me maybe three weeks ago asking me to do her homework, and i agreed.”
jaemin gawked. that didn’t sound like jeno. like at all. “man, what? is she paying you?”
“oh, dividends,” jeno quipped.
“oh, and in what? pussy?”
“nope.”
jaemin looked horrified. he was so damn dramatic. “then, why the hell are you doing her bidding? that doesn’t sound like you.”
it didn’t, not immediately, but jeno had his reasons. “entertainment purposes,” he replied curtly.
jaemin shook his head, taking another swig of his drink. certainly, he was drinking, not smoking. “you’re becoming her pawn for entertainment purposes? unbelievable, bro.”
“chess, not checkers, jaem.” jeno smirked, putting a hand on jaemin’s shoulder. “you’ll see.”
▸ things good guys do 
“you’re lucky i was already out,” jeno told you when you let him into your apartment. “it’s the middle of the night for fuck’s sake. what do you want?”
“oh, please,” you spat, damn near rolling your eyes. your arms were folded. “you get to call me over at the ungodly hour, but when i do it, it’s a problem?”
jeno exhaled through his nose and ran a hand through his hair, wondering why he bothered to come here when he had no obligation to do your bidding, as jaemin had put it. but something told him that he wouldn’t have any regrets. “yeah, it is. now, what do you want?”
you were silent for a few moments, somewhat ashamed of the request you would ultimately make. you sighed, surrendering. “i need help with calculus,” you finally said.
jeno’s shoulders drooped, eyes shrinking in a contemptuous disbelief. “seriously?”
“seriously,” you repeated, sitting down on your couch as your laptop screen glared back at you from the coffee table.
jeno groaned, “i seriously don’t know how you even got into this school. can’t you do anything by yourself?”
you gawked, affronted. he made you sound like some incompetent, immature dickhead. “contrary to a weirdly popular belief, i’m actually really smart,” you insisted, having the transcripts to prove it. “but my professor sucks and i need an eighty-nine on my final to keep my A. and it’s not like you can walk in and take it for me because it’s proctored.”
jeno shook his head and reminded, “you know this little agreement we have doesn’t include me tutoring you, right?”
“it didn’t include you assaulting me, either,” you retorted.
“you think that was assault?” jeno asked, scoffing. he dropped beside you on your couch, the proximity instinctively making you suck in a breath. “if i wasn’t a good guy, i’d show you assault.”
scooting over to ensure maximum distance between your bodies, you argued, “good guys don’t call themselves good guys.”
“good guys have self-control,” jeno replied matter-of-factly, resisting a chuckle. he didn’t make a move to touch you, but he noticed how tense you looked now that he was sitting beside you. “i’ll tutor you, but we’ll have to up the terms of our agreement.”
you swallowed sharply, throat bobbing. you had a feeling you weren’t going to enjoy these new terms. “what do you want?”
“a blowjob.”
“that’s disgusting,” you spat without a second thought, features contorting with repugnance.
jeno quipped, “and so is your inability to do your school work without using and depending on every intelligent boy you meet, but hey, i’m sure you can’t help that.”
you sighed, exasperated, and cradled your face in your hands. was this seriously what your life had come to? giving a boy a blowjob in exchange for a pretty transcript?
jeno grinned, appreciating the sight of you in distress. it was a sign, a good sign, and he intended to bring it out of you more and more, bleeding you absolutely dry. lowering a hand onto your thigh, he urged, “come on, bruise those little knees for me. don’t you bruise ‘em for cheer?”
“that’s not the same!” you whined. 
“of course, it’s not,” jeno said, squeezing your thigh as his shoulders trembled with laughter. “cheer isn’t helping you graduate with flying colors.”
you desperately wanted him to be wrong, you were begging for him to be wrong, but you both knew that if he was, he wouldn’t have been here with you at the moment. not now, not three weeks ago, not ever. so you sucked it up, slamming down your laptop lid, and grumbled, “fine.”
maybe he didn’t come here for nothing, after all. grateful he’d trusted his gut, jeno stood up and clutched your arm to pull you along with him. “come on, let’s go to your room. i like my blowjobs a little messy and i’m sure you don’t want to mess up your nice carpet.”
you snatched your arm away from him, hating his insistence on touching you for every little reason whenever he possibly could, even if it was insignificant. your mouth was taut as you begrudgingly headed for your bedroom.
it was obvious that you were sour. walking behind you, jeno couldn’t help but chime, “glad to see that you can at least walk by yourself!”
you bristled in annoyance, wishing you could just get rid of him, but you knew it wouldn’t be wise to discard him so quickly. at least for now, he still held some kind of value.
jeno walked in behind you, looking particularly radiant, and you hated that you knew why. hell, you hated the reason itself. “get on your knees,” he commanded.
normally, you would complain about him giving you orders as if you were his lap dog or something, but you just wanted to get this over with. you were already so over this entire week. you slowly dropped to your knees, trying to ignore how demeaning it felt. 
“good girl,” jeno praised at your compliance. “now, look up at me with those pretty eyes and ask me to help you with calc. ask me nicely.”
you met his eyes, noticing the expectant glimmer in his gaze that you so badly wanted to knock off. but you weren’t dumb enough to incite violence against a grown man that walked around with his bulging muscles on display for all the world to see, and you didn’t doubt that he would hit you back. “jeno, please help me with calculus,” you pleaded, choosing your battles.
jeno hummed, satisfied. “you sound so pretty and sweet when you ask nicely, instead of demanding things. didn’t know you were capable of that,” he told you, running his fingers through your hair. “take it out. get me hard.”
your hands moved to his sweatpants, tugging at them enough to bring them down just shy of his knees, and doing the same with his underwear. he wasn’t hard yet, but that would be an easy fix; witnessing your state of pure anguish, watching you speak and move as if you were totally dejected, always excited him.
not to mention that the sight of you on your knees for him, the more he took it in, was arousing him even more than he thought it would. he had pictured it in his mind before, you serving him, pleasuring him, existing solely for him, but nothing could compare to the sight he beheld now.
at least, nothing other than you actually doing something rather than sitting there like an idiot. he liked taking control, but he figured you would take matters into your own hands, literally, when he gave the order. “do you need me to tell you what to do or something?” he asked, huffing irritably. “put your tongue on it. tease the head.”
your face and ears burned in ways they rarely did, but you nodded wordlessly and did as told, bracing your hands on his thighs and reluctantly pressing your tongue onto his tip, looking anywhere but his eyes as the muscle swirled around.
that amused jeno to no end. at least for now, he would let it slide, not feeling the need to maintain eye contact with you at the moment. if he needed to, he would simply just grab a nice, thick fistful of your hair and yank it back to jolt your head up at him. he could still see your pretty, bare face, hair arranged messily at the top of your head with a few needless strands jutting out here and there.
he liked that. of course, he would have been more than enthusiastic to have you suck him off if you’d been all dolled up, making you ruin your makeup and undo at least an hour of careful, clean work, but he also just took pleasure in seeing this natural, undone part of you. he wanted to see you for what you really were.
it didn’t take long for him to get hard. with all his thoughts revolving around you and the feel of your tongue on the head of his dick, that was a no-brainer. “good, now put it in your mouth. take as much as you can and not an inch less,” jeno instructed.
widening your mouth, you accepted his stout, heavy cock into your mouth, lips forming a tight suction around the head and steadily advancing down his shaft. bit by bit, inch by nightmarishly thick inch. you had made it maybe halfway down his shaft when you quickly discovered your limit.
jeno was surprisingly content, despite the fact that you definitely still had a few more inches to go. “there you go,” he said, giving your head a soft pat of approval. “suck. go slow. and don’t you dare let me feel any teeth.” 
your heart was thumping out of something you could only understand as fear, even though jeno hadn’t done anything to warrant it yet. inhaling through your nose, you tried to level your breathing, taking your time to draw in his cock lest you made a mistake. the hint of warning in jeno’s voice, in spite of the calmness, was clear.
jeno, on the other hand, was reaching elysian heights. faint grunts of, “fuck,” escaped his pink lips, large hands at his sides reflexively tensing into tightly clenched fists in need of something to grab, hips just barely stuttering. your mouth was hot and wet, with the added benefit of your torturous tongue pressed against his size.
there was a pinch of desperacy in your actions that overcame the resistance; a desperacy not necessarily to please him, but to appease him. accidents were the last thing you could afford and eliciting his frustration was the last thing you wanted.
“lick,” jeno said, chest undulating. “up and down.”
with a hum, you started drawing long, wet lines back and forth on his veiny shaft, almost as if you were tracing the bold veins with your tongue. jeno’s reaction was instantaneous, deep groans the only thing you could hear other than the wet sound of your mouth on his cock, sucking and licking. 
jeno’s eyes fluttered closed. “fuck. yeah, like that.”
you pressed your tongue against the underside of his dick, lingering in each spot for a moment before you continued, mostly because he seemed to like it when you did. which was your north star in an empty, dead night, because you had not a clue what the hell you were doing and you were afraid of making it obvious somehow.
if jeno could tell, he didn’t make it known. he was in a world of his own, all too happily reaping the pleasure from your mouth as if it was a dream come true for him. “kiss my balls. lick it.”
you stifled the sigh you were half tempted to let loose, pulling off his cock with a wet sound and a string of saliva connecting from the sticky tip to your glossy lips. moving your head, you took a moment to steel yourself before peppering tiny, soft kisses along his balls, down to his scrotum.
it wasn’t the most dignifying thing you had ever done, it may have even been the least, but your aching, sore jaw appreciated the break from sucking. you dragged your tongue over his testicles, tasting nothing but rubbery flesh. you were too busy avoiding his eyes to notice, but his face was tensing with pleasure, lips parting in low murmurs.
compared to when you first started, jeno was drastically harder now, massive, monstrous cock nearly bursting at the veins with precum leaking out from the thick tip. had your goal been to take all of him entirely, the sheer size of him would have immediately overwhelmed you.
“switch to your hand and go back to sucking me off,” jeno said, firm yet quiet. it sounded like he was trying to restrain himself, barely holding it together.
at least you were a fast learner. teasing the head of his cock, you gave it a few slow, tentative licks before you began to take him into your mouth again, all the while gently fondling his balls with your fingers. jeno groaned, arching into your touch. he couldn’t help himself.
you could taste the vicious amount of precum staining your tongue and you didn’t know how to describe it, other than slightly tart. the flavor blended with that of your own saliva, lingering on the roof of your mouth and the warm flesh underneath the flap of your tongue, mild as could be.
at least it wasn’t downright awful. you had heard stories before, not that you’d ever known what to make of them, or even pictured yourself being inside of them. if a month ago, someone had told you that you’d be on your knees for a man - for anyone - you would have said they were delusional.
jeno’s patience had worn thin and when you least expected it, he hauled you into the air, making you cry out in surprise just as you had the first time he’d lifted you into his buff, meaty arms. he tossed you onto the bed, just shy of the headboard, and suddenly straddled your chest. you gasped out a breath.
“open up,” jeno said, cock positioned right in front of your mouth.
not that he gave you the time to obey him, because he pressed himself against your slightly parted lips and forced them wider, entering your mouth on his own. your face strained, perfectly threaded brows tugging down into a discontented arch.
when you tried to pull away, jeno grabbed the sides of your face and pushed you onto his shaft with trembling hands, making you take him and leaving no room for escape, not until he decided he was done with you. there was only one concern present in his mind and that was getting himself off.
tears stung your eyes, that same implacable feeling you had when he’d dragged his tongue over the expanse of your soft, shaved legs and bare, sweaty chest finding you again in the most of unwanted company. jeno scoffed, spitefully tugging at your hair. “you know what’s funny? you’re such a fucking crybaby. you can’t take even half of what you give to others.”
chin flush against his scrotum and your nose not even an inch away from his bush, you almost gagged. the slurping sounds were humiliating, loud, wet squelching with every other big gulp making you want to shrink. however, jeno loved it, obsessing over the idea of making a mess out of you. the sound went straight to his dick.
jeno held your face in that low position, deeper than you’d ever taken him so far. “i’m really not that bad of a guy, you know,” jeno said, sounding like he truly believed it. you could have scoffed, if not for obvious reasons. “you just bring it out of me. i’m really just treating you like how you treat everybody else.”
he made you sound like something straight out of hell and you couldn’t help but think it was an unfair justification for something that felt too close to punishment. he obviously thought he knew you better than he did and it made you aggravated. that, or he somehow thought he was better than you.
there was a fleeting second of relief when jeno unmounted your chest and let you breathe, only to be crushed again when he dragged you by your wrists to the edge of your mattress, leaving you in the deep end. your eyes struggled to grasp with the flipped image of him nearing you, cock back down your throat before you could even blink.
though his hips thankfully had been moving at a calmer, steady pace before, despite forcing himself deeper than you could handle, he began to thrust more urgently into your mouth with the new change, embedding himself even further into your throat than you knew was possible. 
you cried harder, hating every second of it. the salty, bitter tang of your tears mingled with the tainted taste of spit and sharp bite of precum that had come to stain your chin and cupid’s bow. the vigor of his movements was overwhelming, overpowering.
“that’s it, cheerleader. cry harder,” jeno taunted, tracing his thumb over your face to swipe at the trail of tears. all the while his hips were moving faster, harder.
it felt like such a mockery, him doing that. a feigned act of sympathy while perpetuating the torment that was reducing you to tears as a selfish means of achieving pleasure of his own. 
then, his hands wandered down to your breasts, slipping inside your night shirt and mauling your chest. running his hands in a circle, his thumb brushed the erect, colored nipples and he clasped his hands around your chest, squeezing your breasts. “fuck, i’m close,” he grunted, grip tightening, pace hastening, force increasing. 
with how close he was, your nose was squarely against his the flesh of his balls, effectively cutting off your exhale. your heart thudded, racing and pounding. tensing with panic, your hands frantically moved, striking at his navel and thighs. even your legs were in alarm, unstill towards the other end of the bed. 
jeno groaned, smacking your cheek. another slap followed the sizzle, straight against your chest. “calm the fuck down,” he hissed, raising his arm in preparation to hit you again. “i’ll let you breathe as soon as i come, so you better not get in the way, if you know what’s good for you.”
even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stay calm. your body physically couldn’t handle it, responding the only way it knew how, trying to protect you. somebody had to. you closed your eyes, face warm with tears and panic, and you tried to brace your hands on the sheets, anything to comfort and stabilize yourself.
it got to a point where jeno couldn’t hold back anymore and he climaxed with a prolonged, guttural groan, hips still brutally smacking into your mouth as he painted your tongue and the back of your throat with his cum. he went as far as to grab your head again, forcing himself onto you as deep as he could go, and demanding, “swallow it.”
like hell you would. you pushed him away, coughing and choking as soon as you did, drops of cum pooling from your mouth and some of it flying here and there in the midst of your coughing fit.
irritated, jeno pressed his tongue against the roof his mouth. “you’re so fucking useless,” he groaned, grabbing his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants and quickly turning on the camera. “look at you. sitting here choking on my cum. you want it again, don’t you?”
you sat up, nearly tumbling over the edge of your bed from the intense convulsing, and turned to face the other way as you hunched over, tightly clasping your sheets. “fuck off, you got what you wanted!” you rasped.
jeno laughed. you sounded so gravelly. “you’re right. i did,” he replied, putting back on his pants and pocketing his phone. “so, tutoring. i’ll see you tomorrow. nighty night, cheerleader.”
he gave you a pat on the head and turned, heading straight for the door.
▸ hard feelings
something about today was different than usual. 
when you woke up, you had felt a shift in the air, but you’d chalked it up to being nervous about the final you had in three hours.
but when you finally went to go take it, however, you quickly realized that the unsettling feeling you had was not simply pre-exam jitters. it was something much more sinister than that. with the status you held on campus, you were used to being watched and gawked at, but this was different.
it felt like everybody and their mother was looking at you.
you were confused. you had been the subject of this much attention before, but only once; it was a couple years back when someone had spread a dirty, foul rumor about you. there was a social media page for your school called top ten, mostly used to shame women for their sexual exploits, but some men made their way on it too. that was how you heard about johnny’s clap rumor.
long story short, a rumor about you had originated there and it had taken you weeks to clear your name. but by that time, there was already another slut of the week. you were lucky to have your situation not only be false and debunked, but word of mouth. only the most unlucky of people, like hyeri, got images or videos of themselves posted.
and you were a community favorite. you would understand if you were new, but you had built a reputation around here. why would anybody believe floating rumors about you now?
but the abundance of stares didn’t end there. even in the cafe, you had caught someone watching you a little too hard to be a casual leer of admiration. and you were determined to find out why.
fortunately, you were able to find jennie and roseanne walking and talking in the courtyard, and you called out their names to stop them.
jennie turned first, and you watched her smile drop in real time. she glanced around, frantic, as if she was worried about someone watching her too.
roseanne smiled thinly, halfheartedly lifting her hand to wave. “hey,” she greeted quietly, matching jennie’s nerves.
they knew something you didn’t and it was glaringly obvious. “what’s going on?” you asked. “everyone’s looking at me and i know i’m not going crazy yet.”
jennie and roseanne glanced between each other, as if they both had bad news but neither of them wanted to be the one to tell you. after a few seconds, jennie groaned and said, “you might want to check top ten.”
your brows furrowed. you, on top ten? again? god, people could be so infuriating. “ugh, what rumor did they spread about me this time?”
jennie winced, which only made you more anxious. “it’s not just a rumor,” she whispered. “…it’s a video.”
“video?” you echoed in disbelief. that didn’t make sense. you hadn’t been with anyone except…except jeno. you tensed with anger.
roseanne opened her phone to show you the video that had been posted. it was an anonymous submission that claimed to be a recording of you. unfortunately, it was you, bits of your chest exposed from jeno reaching into your shirt and drops of cum landing there as you fought for breath. your face wasn’t visible, but there were some other distinguishing signs, like your hair and skin and sheets.
your heart thudded and your shoulders went cold, but your eyes were scalding. you were well aware that jeno didn’t like you, you didn’t exactly love him either, but you never thought he would stoop low enough to hurt you like this.
“i’m sorry,” roseanne apologized, dropping her phone in her purse when you were done. the video was only a few seconds long, but the damage was forever. “but don’t worry. it’s not like it’s top three worthy. everyone will move on next week.”
jennie nodded in agreement and briefly patted your back. “yeah. we’ll hang out again when this all blows over, i promise.”
then, they walked away. leaving you reeling with ache and betrayal. your friends didn’t want to be seen with you anymore. you were an embarrassment.
you swallowed the bitter feeling scorching up your throat and tapped your pockets for your phone, knowing there was one person you needed to see. 
you: you and i need to talk. right now.
jeno: about what?
you: don’t play dumb, i know you sent that video in!
jeno: maybe u should have swallowed
you: you know what, i don’t need you. i never have. and i don’t want your help anymore. just leave me alone
jeno: [one attachment]
jeno: you sure about that? because i’m sure there’s plenty of people that would love to see the version with your face in it
you gawked, hiding your phone screen against your chest while glancing around to make sure no one could see.
adjusting your brightness, you unlocked your phone again and texted him back hurriedly.
you: why are you doing this?! i’ve never done anything to you
jeno: this is bigger than just you and me
jeno: now if you don’t want everyone to see that pretty face, come put those lips around me again and we can work something out
and that was how it started. though you hadn’t had the upper hand in weeks, this was the moment you completely lost it. what was once an arrangement for him to help you in exchange for your attention became a hole of misery that you couldn’t dig yourself out of.
one blowjob became two, and two became three until you started to immediately recognize what it meant when you saw his name appear on your screen, knowing what it was before he even asked. not that he ever technically asked. it was always a command, a claim to your body wherever and whenever he wanted.
if you tried to be strong, if you tried to break free of him, he always threatened to make sure that recordings of you on your knees for him went up for all the world to see and no one would ever think of you the same way again. he was more than willing to taint the pretty, perfect image of yourself that you presented to the world.
you felt stuck, trapped. isolated with nowhere to go, no way out. you tried to conjure up a way to escape this situation, but you couldn’t think of anything feasible. if you wanted to protect what was left of your social life and dignity, if you wanted to go outside without being ashamed, your only option was to be compliant.
no matter how many late nights and sore throats you had to go through.
you were in the middle of dozing off, your head leaning off to the side, when the sound of your phone ringing suddenly jolted you awake. you were tempted to ignore it until you saw the contact and begrudgingly pressed the phone to your ear. “hello?” you grumbled.
“i’ve been texting you,” jeno said, sounding miffed.
you sighed, glancing over at the clock on your nightstand. “it’s literally two in the morning,” you complained. “i just got home from cheer practice and i’m trying to study for my last final. i haven’t even showered yet.”
“aw, poor thing,” jeno crooned, pretending to care. “come over.”
you heartless, selfish bastard, you snapped in your head. of course, you were in no place to say that out loud, so you settled for a calm, “okay,” and hung up.
stifling a yawn, you grabbed your keys and lazily stepped into a nearby pair of shoes, stretching your arms above your head before willing yourself to get up from your desk chair. then, you accidentally scraped your leg against the bottom drawer of your desk, which you’d accidentally left open. 
“ow!” you cried out, bending down a little. “god, why does this world hate me? what did i do wrong?”
it was a wonder you managed to make it to jeno’s apartment without getting into a wreck, although at this point, you wouldn’t care if you had as long as it killed you. or put you into an indefinite coma.
on the other hand, jeno seemed strangely enthusiastic to see you and looked full of life and energy. “there you are, cheerleader,” he said, pulling you in to hug you from behind. he led you over to his couch, much like he always did. 
you covered your mouth with your elbow as you yawned. “can we get this over with? i’m sleepy.”
jeno chuckled. “i don’t want you to suck me off. not right now.”
your brows furrowed, wondering if you had heard him right. if not for that, then why were the hell were you here?
“i’m sad,” jeno said, not even attempting to keep the smug smile off his face. “i need you to cheer me up.”
you blinked at him like he was stupid. “cheer… you up?”
jeno nodded his head, glancing you over with a grin. you looked like hell. partly because you were so obviously exhausted, but he knew he’d been having an effect on you too. “yeah, cheer me up. you’re a cheerleader,” he reminded, sounding proud of himself. “i want you to do your routine for me.”
you gawked in disbelief and whined, “i’m not even in my uniform.”
“so?” jeno asked. “those bones might be tired, but they still work. matter of fact, take everything off.”
you were quick to exclaim, “what the hell? jeno, can i please just do it later? everything hurts.”
“take everything off,” jeno repeated, his voice more stern this time. “and move your ass.”
defeated, you reluctantly began to peel off your clothes, ignoring the way jeno shamelessly ogled you for the sake of your own comfort and tugging your shirt from above your head. you couldn’t even look at him as you abashedly stepped out of your shorts and panties.
what was even more mortifying was having to perform every stupid little routine for him with your entire body on display and your chest bouncing with every motion. putting on the sweet, forced smile and calling out the chants you’d memorized, all the while ignoring how your bones ached.
when you were done, he made you sit in his lap so he could touch you as he pleased, paying no mind to the way you squirmed uncomfortably.
you cried enough tears to occupy a sixth ocean the next day. you weren’t exactly sure why. you just remembered miraculously waking up in your bed, sitting up and staring into empty space, and the water crashing down after a few minutes. it took you even longer to notice you were sobbing.
after a couple of meaningless hours, you got the random urge to call your moan, yearning to hear her voice. “mommy?” you said when she picked up.
“she calls,” your mother chirped, pleasantly surprised. “hi, baby. i was starting to wonder if you’d forgotten about little ole’ me. you know, you never come see me anymore.”
you forced yourself to laugh, trying to strip your voice of the agony so that she wouldn’t notice. “i know. i’m sorry,” you apologized quietly. “i’ll come see you soon.”
“you better,” your mother snapped playfully, no real malice in her voice. “now, what’d you call me for? and don’t say just to check up on me, because that’s a damn lie.”
“i miss you,” you confessed. 
“a lie don’t care who tell it.”
“ma,” you groaned, knowing she was just messing around. “i swear i do.”
“mm-hm,” your mother hummed. you could already picture her in your head, eyeing you with suspicion, arms folded over her chest. “let me guess why you really called. you’re having boy trouble.”
your eyes flickered in surprise. how did she know? you doubted it was exactly what she was thinking, but she was close enough. “yeah, something like that.”
there was no doubt that your mother sounded excited. you had always seem thoroughly uninterested in boys and dating, and while she was thankful when you were a teenager, it was a little worrying now. “it’s about time,” she said, clasping her hands together. “tell me all about it.”
you sighed, wondering how you could tell her about jeno without making her fret. she had gotten all pumped, you didn’t want to tear her down and ruin everything. “well, there’s this guy i met almost two months ago. at first, i didn’t feel anything for him. he was just another boy, you know. someone i could keep around for a good time, not a long one.”
your mother hummed again. you could hear metal pans clacking against her counter and assumed she was cooking. she always did that. 
taking a deep breath, you continued, “but everything changed. he’s different from every other guy i’ve dealt with. he doesn’t just do what i say because i say so. and as the weeks passed, he’s started listening to me less and less than he already was.”
your mother chuckled. “and you didn’t like that, huh? got your mother’s stubborn heart and indomitable spirit.”
in truth, you didn’t think you had half of your mother’s strength, but you would never tell her that. as far as she knew, everything was going perfectly in the life you’d created here on campus. and it probably was the last time you’d spoken to her. “yeah,” you replied, wishing that were true. “i don’t like it. he makes me feel something i’ve never felt before.”
“he makes you feel powerless,” your mother told you. “he’s got you feeling weak because he’s the first man you’ve ever met willing to stand up to you. trust me, i was surprised the first time too. that’s how you got here.”
“ma,” you groaned with a wince.
she laughed. the sound made you happy, something you hadn’t been so certain you were capable of feeling anymore. “i’m just keeping it real.”
you thought about her words. she may have been way off in her perception of what this relationship between you and jeno really was, but she wasn’t wrong about how he made you feel. weak, powerless. suddenly, this consuming feeling you’d been having for weeks finally had a name, and yet that made it even harder to come to terms with.
because you didn’t want to be powerless. you wanted to be in charge, in control. you hated when things didn’t go your way, and more importantly, you hated when there was nothing you could do about it. it was supposed to be you wielding power over people’s head, not being crushed beneath the weight of tyranny.
and it was then you fully realized the scope of your feelings; you absolutely hated lee jeno.
▸ cheerleader? breed her! 
standing there in a skimpy dress, face done and your feet clamped in heels that made you four inches taller, you didn’t feel like yourself.
you thought that you would. in truth, you hadn’t feel like yourself in months. today marked a little over two months since you made the mistake of beginning that agreement with jeno and you regretted it more than anything. he had completely ruined you, your life, and everything that made you feel whole.
there were pieces of yourself that you would never get back, thanks to him. it was true that everyone had forgotten about the ordeal regarding the recording of you, but not without cost. it was a price you were still paying everyday; even when you weren’t on your knees or otherwise commiting demeaning acts for the sake of jeno’s entertainment, you were hurting and mourning yourself.
you were starting to wonder if it was worth it. obviously, you liked being respected amongst your fellow students, but you were no longer certain if their respect was worth the price of your sanity. it was hard for you to even have basic interactions without giving away how incredibly lonely and isolated you felt, how trapped and doomed you were. helpless and powerless.
jeno came up behind you, startling you. he was like a wolf and you were a little lamb masquerading as a wolf. “there you are, baby,” he said, snaking his hands around your waist. he seemed to love doing that. “did you know our anniversary was a few days ago?”
you scoffed. the two-month anniversary of the worst decision of your life to date. there was nothing you would’ve give to undo it. doing your homework yourself would have spared you so much unnecessary pain. “stop doing that,” you whined, scanning the party. “someone will see.”
jeno chuckled, clearly not giving a damn. “unlike someone, i don’t really care what people think about me.”
you wished you didn’t care. there would always be a part of you that cared, that was so afraid of what people could say about her that she would do anything to tailor her image perfectly. matter of fact, it was all you had cared about in high school, and every year after that was spent maintaining the brand.
jeno’s hand went from your waist to your ass, making you tense in his grasp. “you know, i think i deserve some kind of compensation for putting up with you for two months.”
you deserved that too. freedom. being unshackled from his cruel, unrelenting orders was the one thing you wanted most and the one thing he refused to give you. “don’t you have your compensation almost every day?” you asked irritably.
“that’s not nearly enough,” jeno insisted, squeezing your ass.
god, how greedy could someone be? it was like he wanted to bleed you dry until there was nothing left.
“you know what i want?” jeno asked huskily, leaning into your ear. “i wanna fuck you.”
your eyes widened a little. you had hoped this day would never come, even though you weren’t oblivious to the fact that jeno had steadily gotten bolder in his interactions with you, the things he made you do for his satisfaction becoming entirely more erotic. 
grabbing your arm, jeno started to lead you away. “come on, let’s go.”
you rooted in place, nearly stumbling. you didn’t want to go anywhere with him, especially if it meant putting up with his insatiable urges. “jeno, i don’t want to,” you said, trying to push at him.
jeno scoffed, wondering when you would realize that he didn’t care what you wanted and you had no way of winning. “if you want to make a scene in front of all these lovely people, be my guest,” he hissed in your ear.
panicked, you glanced around the crowd in search of someone that could save you. it was like everybody was looking at you until you actually needed them to. 
then, you locked eyes with jungwoo. matter of fact, it seemed like he’d been looking at you much before you’d even glanced in his general direction. he saw you, saw the way jeno was holding you roughly, saw the obvious stiffness on your face, saw the pleading look in your eyes; but ultimately, jungwoo saw the image of you letting him down after bleeding him dry for half a year, and he turned away.
your shoulders slumped in defeat.
jeno started dragging you toward the stairs, pushing past a bunch of drunk people dancing on each other. your heart was thumping, and your whole body was rigid with nerves as you tried to think of a way out of this even though you knew there was no option without consequences.
just your luck, the bathroom jeno hauled you too was empty. he pushed you in and locked the door, pressing you against the counter. you gasped and glanced at your reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing yourself. “jeno, please,” you whispered, trying to plead with him. “please, don’t do this.”
jeno didn’t seem moved by your begging, but he did, however, appear amused. “why are you acting so sensitive about this after all we’ve done together? it’s like you’ve never gotten fucked or something.”
you swallowed, not saying a word. 
the silence was very loud, very telling. jeno arched a brow, a realization dawning on him. “you really have never been fucked,” he said, surprised. “damn, i should have figured that out when you were acting like you never sucked dick before.”
your face flushed with heat. it wasn’t like you were necessarily embarrassed about it, not until now. you had always taken it as something to pride yourself on, being fuckable but untouchable. “you say that like it’s a bad thing,” you replied, glancing down at the sink to avoid eye contact.
jeno chuckled. it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he had been convinced that you were completely pretending to be a goody two-shoes. to know there was at least one percent of you that was still pure amazed him. he lifted the skirt of your dress with his hand and brought it between your legs, asking, “what, you just never find anyone worthy enough for your perfect, sacred pussy?”
you gasped out when he touched you there. his fingers circled your clothed cunt, thumb digging into your inner thigh. feeling scandalized, you grumbled, “maybe i’m just not interested.”
jeno shook his head, astonished by the amount of attitude you still had after all these months and determined to break it out of you. “and maybe i just don’t care if you’re interested or not.”
it went without saying that jeno always made you feel like some kind of object, but this was next level. “this is dehumanizing!” you exclaimed. 
hearing you, of all people, talk about dehumanizing made for an interesting conversation. big, calloused hand pressing harder into you, he asked tauntingly, “doesn’t feel good, does it?”
your glossy, painted lips were parted, unable to breathe through your nose. your eyes burned with the threat of tears and it was becoming second nature for them to shed whenever jeno was nearby. “i don’t understand,” you whimpered, trying to free yourself, but to no avail. “why are you doing this to me? what have i ever done to deserve this?”
jeno could feel you struggling, trying to push him off you, but all it did was move your hips against his rapidly hardening cock. he groaned, grabbing hold of your ass and pushing you further back against him. “fuck, just like that,” he growled. “haven’t i told you this already? this is bigger than you and me.”
it wasn’t lost on you that jeno obviously had heard stories about you from other people, stories of happenings you probably couldn’t deny, but it had nothing to do with him. “look, if you’re doing all this to get back at me because i hurt one of your friends or something, i’m sorry, i really am. but i can’t do this anymore, jeno. i want to stop, please. please let me go on with my life.”
“what a privileged response,” jeno hissed without concealing his vitriol. at the same time, he kept palming you over your panties, noticing them beginning to cling to your cunt, and tore your underwear to the side to insert a pair of fingers inside. “what about all those girls whose lives you ruined? i’m sure they wanted you to stop. and you didn’t until they were too humiliated to show their faces around here again and you had no choice.”
you swallowed the lump in your throat. he knew about the girls? “jeno, i haven’t done that since freshman year,” you told him, desperately trying to reason with him.
two loud, harsh smacks echoed in the tiny, crowded space of the bathroom, followed by a gasp consequently. your pussy stung, your head jerking around to look at jeno. “do you really think that matters?” he asked, grabbing your hair to turn you back around just as quickly, as if you didn’t deserve to look at him. “you think that matters when the pain you’ve done to them is permanent? they don’t forget. and they damn sure don’t forgive you.”
you tensed, hating the way your walls were gripping and gushing around his fingers. “so what? you think you’re god or something? is this you punishing me for my sins? you’re not exactly what i would call a saint, either.”
“me and you, we’re not the same,” jeno remarked, a nip to his tone as if you needed the reminder of how much he disliked you. “you only pick on people that you think are below you somehow. people you think won’t fight back.”
“i know i’m not a good person,” you admitted in between gasps, thighs straining as his fingers pumped into your pussy harder, faster, reaching places you’d never touched on your own. “ i know i don’t deserve to be happy. maybe i don’t even deserve to be treated with respect, but please leave me this one thing. spare me just this once.”
jeno laughed cruelly, pulling his fingers out of your drenched hole and smearing your juices all over your folds and thighs. his finger unintentionally swiped over your sensitive clit, making your legs quiver and your stomach tighten, sucking in itself.
“damn, baby. you really know how to hurt my feelings,” jeno said, voice dripping with sarcasm. he withdrew his fingers, bringing them into his mouth for a taste. “you don’t want me to fuck you that bad?”
your heart was spiking with dread, thumping belligerently in your chest, your ears, and between your legs. no one had ever made you feel so vanquished.
“take my dick out,” jeno said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “hurry up.”
you sighed anguishedly, turning around to undo his pants and slip his aching dick out of its confinements. for months, jeno had been suppressing the urge to fuck you, wanting to wait for the moment where it would be most pivotal.
getting a hold of your throat, jeno roughly yanked you flush against him the second you whirled back around to face the tiny bathroom counter, making you stand tall against his chest. his voice was almost as rough as the hands that held you. “put it in.”
you gawked, shaking your head.
his fingers tightened dangerously around your windpipe, making your damp eyes widen and your jaw slack against his whitening knuckles, maybe half a wheeze making its way out your throat before he warned, “if i have to fucking tell you again, i’m gonna crush every bone in your goddamn neck.”
with no other option, you meekly reached behind you to grasp him in your quivering hand, aimlessly steering him to your hole and sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as the tip brushed past your dripping folds. jeno released a shaky breath, slapping your hand away and rutting his hips into you from behind, sheathing himself inside in one go.
he slackened his unforgiving grip on your throat, shoving you back against the counter none too gently, but you still felt like you couldn’t breathe when he entered you, a mangled whimper echoing out. your fingers desperately braced the edges of the counter for purchase as you tried to will yourself to inhale, but it was like you were choking.
jeno had a death grip on your thighs, forcibly pushing them apart a little more as he coated himself with the creamy, hot wetness of your unwanted arousal. “mm, hard to believe you don’t secretly want me when you’re sucking me in like this, baby,” he said, proud.
you shook your head in denial, face flushing with a heat that spread to your ears and neck. it didn’t help that there were beads of salty, hot tears pouring down your face and reducing your vision to one big, hazy blur. you didn’t want him, not even a little bit. but you couldn’t control the way your body was responding.
the lewd, wet smack of his cock thrusting deeply into your tight cunt rang out so loudly that you wanted nothing more than to hide into oblivion and never be seen again, mortified. it made things seem so much different than they were. his long, thick cock was stretching you beyond the cusp your limits and making you gape.
“i’m so nice to you,” jeno said, tipping his head back. you could see his chest rising and falling through his clothes, his body taut with pleasure and excitement. “i’ve been holding back for so long, trying not to fuck you. won’t keep me out this pussy now. i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out. have you at practice limping.”
your knees, wobbly as they already were, began knocking into the cabinets at the bottom of the sink. you winced your eyes closed as your fingers curled around the edge of the counter roughly enough to change the color around your knuckles, hoping to think of something, anything, to take you out of the moment.
but it was too hard. you couldn’t ignore the throb of your gushing walls as they kneaded his cock, making him grunt in your ear as he leaned over your backside. you couldn’t ignore the faint sting of his nails stabbing your hips and his heavy palm slapping repeatedly against your ass. and you definitely couldn’t ignore the dirtiness staining you from head to toe.
sure, it felt good, his body rocking against yours steadily, but it didn’t feel right. many nights you had pictured what losing your virginity would be like, both the way that it was supposed to look and the way that you were more inclined to, but this was neither; it was heartless, it was punishing, and it was brutal.
jeno grabbed you by your hair and forced you to look into the mirror, yanking your head up. “there it is,” he spat, words sounding painfully familiar. “there’s the real you.”
your hair was messy from him tugging it every which way, treating you like a doll to mishandle. your makeup was ruined from your sobbing, the path of your tears harsh against everything else. your eyes were red and your right lash looked like it was barely holding on, the effect of rubbing at your face.
jeno watched you take in the destroyed sight of yourself, practically hearing the critical thoughts hopping in your mind. “this is what you really are. this is what you’re sucking my dick to keep hidden from the world. is it worth it, baby? or do you just like the way i taste on your tongue?”
no, it wasn’t worth it. you were beginning to understand that now. he was taking too much from you, too much of your peace and too much of your sanity. maybe it would be better to be judged and lonely but free than to be loved by people whose opinion of you could change on a dime anyway at the expense of your soul. 
your pride had been buried a long time ago, brutally murdered in her sleep. “jeno, please stop. i’m uncomfortable,” you complained, tearing your eyes away from your reflection in shame.
jeno smacked your ass again, making you cry out sharply. “you just love being the victim when it’s convenient for you, huh?”
“i’m sorry!” you whimpered. “i don’t know what you want me to do. what do you want? just tell me.”
jeno snickered, running his hands over your hips and waist to knead the flesh. then, he brushed your hair out of your face, nibbling at the skin behind your ear before growling, “you know what i want, cheerleader? i want to assassinate all there is that you love about yourself and leave everything else untouched, so that you understand not why everybody hates you, but why nobody loves you.”
those words hit you straight in the gut. for the first time, you had no retort, no comeback. 
hips beginning to move faster, jeno continued, “the boys don’t love you, they just want to fuck you. they would kill to be as deep inside you as i am. the girls sure as hell don’t love you. they either want to be you, or they resent you for beating their asses. and don’t get me started on those girls you call friends.”
“jeno, stop,” you whispered, an agony vicious enough to rip through flesh tearing you straight in half. 
but jeno didn’t listen. he wasn’t done, not until he made his point. “don’t think i didn’t notice how lonely you were for the whole week everybody was talking shit about you. they didn’t want to touch you with a six foot pole, did they? they don’t want to be seen with you unless it gives them a good rep.”
there was a pang in your chest. you didn’t want to admit it, but that cut deep. you had heard people say mean things about you before, it was to expected when you were an emblem of popularity on campus, but few things had reached you where it hurt.
jeno stroked your messy cheek, almost with affection. “but it’s okay. because you want to know something, baby? it was hard for me to admit it to myself, but you truly fascinate me. i can’t get you out of my head sometimes. you piss me off every time without fail, but i keep coming back to you. i like you, baby. if no one else does. you grew on me.”
you weren’t sure if that was supposed to make you feel better, but it didn’t. if anything, you only felt more heartbroken and wounded not only by his words, but by your inability to counter them. it truly dawned on you, right then, just how alone you were.
jeno threw his head back, grunting. his hips were moving with a mind of their own, eager to finish. “fuck, i’m gonna come.”
your eyes went wide in panic, remembering that he had gone in bareback. 
“jeno, don’t…”
before you could even finish your statement, jeno clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling your protests into his pale palm. “you know what guys at my school used to say about cheerleaders?” he asked, obviously not expecting a response. “‘see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader.’ ‘cheerleader? breed her.’”
you thrashed, but it was pointless. those thick, burly biceps of jeno’s were one of the first things you noticed about him and they weren’t just for display. he held you in place as he quickened his pace again, his thrusts unrelenting.
with a couple more quick yet shockingly rhythmic thrusts, jeno emptied his load deep, deep inside you. he moaned, moving his hands from your mouth to your hips to keep himself steady as he reeled from the pleasure of a mind-numbing orgasm. “goddamn,” he cursed, panting for breath.
you stifled a small noise as you felt his warmth flooding into you, unsure how to feel at this point. 
to your surprise, jeno started fucking you again, never once daring to pull out as if he was determined to fuck every drop of his sticky cum as deep inside you as it could reach. his stringy, thick load gathered on his dick and inside your pussy, leaking down your thighs as he kept going.
you gasped out, moans involuntarily leaving you as you were stuffed full of him over and over. you didn’t mean to, but it was impossible to control.
then, jeno stuck a hand between your legs and rolled his thumb over your clit, which didn’t help. you cried out, tensing. “jeno, stop! it’s sensitive.”
“that’s the point, dummy,” jeno replied, stimulating your clit with his hand while simultaneously pumping himself into you from behind.
your core tightened, heat wafting over you as your chest heaved wildly. “what are you doing?” you stammered. 
jeno smiled, watching in the mirror how your face tensed with a blend of confusion and ecstasy that you couldn’t rein. “you really think i’m an asshole, huh? i’m trying to make you come. relax and let me.”
you shook your head. you didn’t want to come, not for him, and most definitely not on his cock for him to feel every unintentional shudder of your pussy as it gushed and pulsed with hot, sweet release; that would be embarrassing.
that made jeno chuckle. “no? you don’t wanna come for me, baby?” he asked, furrowing his brows playfully as he tilted your face back up to the mirror with a push of your jaw. “come on, let go. you keep saying i’m not a good guy, but you shoot me down when i try to be nice.”
you moaned again, against your own reason and better judgment. “please,” you rasped with half a breath.
“please, what?” jeno asked, rubbing you with just a pinch more force. “do you even know?”
god, you hated him; you absolutely despised him. but damn, if it didn’t feel good to have someone touch you after you’d spent so long avoiding sex like it was something to be ashamed of.
and this? this was definitely something you were ashamed of.
and yet the most shameful moment, perhaps, was when you finally couldn’t resist the pleasure of his big, long fingers twirling around your sensitive nub and his brutal hips smacking into you with a vengeance, clamping around him as you orgasmed with a loud cry and the heat shot through every corner of your body.
“shit,” jeno hissed, the feel of you finishing around him draining the cum from his balls for a second time.
your jaw slacked, overwhelmed by how you felt completely and utterly stuffed, ropes of his cum filling you to the hilt. jeno thrusted into you a little more, sending a flare through your back and shoulders, until he stilled for good. you could hear him panting behind you.
after a moment or two, jeno pulled out. hand between your thighs, he gathered some of his stringy release on his finger and brought it up to your lips. “open up. don’t make me say it again.”
you opened your mouth wide enough for him to insert two of his cum-coated fingers inside. then, you sucked at them and swallowed it down, knowing those would be the next words to leave his mouth. 
jeno raised a brow, pleasantly surprised. he took his time to withdraw his fingers, enjoying the sensation of you licking them clean. “see, i knew you loved eating my cum.”
your face burned, but you didn’t have the energy to deny it. not after that. it felt like there was a gaping hole in your chest, a void that would never be filled. 
“you’re learning,” jeno commented, humming in satisfaction. “good girl. you know, maybe one day we can get along. don’t you think?”
“yeah,” you murmured weakly. at this point, you would just go along with whatever he said. and maybe that was why he figured you could experience some peace together now.
keeping your dress bunched up, jeno grabbed some tissues from his left and started to wipe at you. “let’s get you cleaned up before we leave, cheerleader. don’t want the entire student body to see you like this, right?”
you whipped your head around, eyes widening in surprise. leaving to go where? certainly you weren’t going home with him after tonight. 
“did you think i was kidding?” jeno asked with a sly smile, slipping your panties backing in place and giving your shoulder a fleeting kiss. “i told you, i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out.”
2K notes · View notes
illyrianbitch · 5 days ago
Text
Are We Still Friends? — Part Five
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Pairing: Reader x Azriel
Summary: A chance encounter offers a break from your tangled thoughts about Azriel. Meanwhile, Az reaches a pivotal realization.
Warnings: training, sparring and weapon use, severe overthinking, longing, brief use of recreational drugs (lovely 'mirthroot')
Word Count: 7.1k
Part Four | Series Masterlist |
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
Even in the early hours, the heat was suffocating. 
You’d been half-tempted to cancel on Mor, to crawl back under the covers and enjoy the blissful cool of your room. But you knew better. Mor would’ve winnowed straight into your bedroom, dragged you out of bed, and reminded you that you’d made a promise. 
So now, here you were, on the training grounds, sweat already collecting at your brow, watching Azriel and Cassian spar on the far side.
Both of the males were dressed in their usual head-to-toe leathers, though Cassian seemed just as bothered by the weather as you. You’d noticed he’d trained shirtless more often lately, something you attributed to the presence of his mate, but today he was fully covered. It probably had something to do with the steady, focused gaze Az held. Something to be cautious of. Wary. 
Unlike his brother, Azriel’s expression was detached, as if the sun didn’t touch him at all— like he was completely unbothered by the sweltering heat. His wings shifted slightly against the back of his leathers, but that was the extent of his discomfort, if any. 
You’d never visited Illyria in the summer months, never experienced the full brutality of its heat. Perhaps it was there, under that oppressive sun, that Azriel had learned to manage heat in such attire. But, then again, Az was entirely too skilled at masking what he actually felt.
Something about him, now before you, made you want to continue staring—his wings, the way his body moved with the smoothness of a predator, the effortless strength in the curve of his form. Lately, everything about Azriel had been doing that— distracting you. Overwhelming you. Calling to you like a siren song. His voice, his smile, the way he moved.
A laugh from Mor pulled you from your thoughts.
"It’s a shame the healing balm worked so well," Her voice teased from behind you. You turned at the sound, watching as she tossed a sword from one hand to the other with an ease that was almost poetic. "Seeing you turned me into a softie, you know.  All those bruises and that pouty face— I had to go easy because I felt bad for you.”
You snorted, catching the blade she tossed your way. "Oh, so that’s the only reason I beat you last week? Because you were going easy on me?"
Her grin widened. “Yeah. But Runa got too many hits on you. You’re rusty. So maybe I’m not doing you any favors by going easy." She raised an eyebrow. "Maybe Cassian’s been going too easy on you, too."
“Or maybe,” you shot back, stepping into the ring, “I was just going easy on a citizen.”
Mor’s laugh was loud and unapologetic as she followed you. "You’re saying that like you didn’t know exactly who she was when you threw the first punch."
You huffed a laugh, shaking your head as you squared up to her. “Okay, can we maybe stop reminiscing over my recent regrettable actions? Please?”
“Never.” She slid into a stance with ease. “But if you beat me, I’ll stop laughing about it for a week.”
“Only a week?”
“That’s all you’ll get, babe.”
You rolled your eyes, lips still curved in a grin. “Fine. Deal.”
And then, without hesitation, Mor lunged. Your blades collided with a sharp ring, the sound vibrating up your arms. You let the adrenaline of the fight pull you out of your thoughts, focusing on the female in front of you.
It was easy to forget, sometimes, that before anything else, Morrigan was a warrior. Graceful, clever, and impossibly skilled. The kind of fighter who didn’t rely on brute strength but on speed, precision, and an uncanny ability to read her opponent. Skills she’d learnt to outmaneuver and beat males that may have been twice her size, twice her age. And if you looked hard enough, past her glittering makeup and the plethora of gold jewelry she adorned, you’d notice the scars scattered across her body, small slices from knives and swords that didn’t have enough time to heal during the first war. 
Mor didn’t hold back, her strikes coming faster, sharper, until your muscles burned from the effort of keeping up.
From across the ring, Cassian’s booming laugh carried over, followed by what sounded like a gruff remark from Azriel. You glanced over almost instinctively, your eyes following the movement of Az’s shadows. They twisted around him, stretching into the shaded spaces between Cassian’s body and the ground, curling around the general’s feet in an attempt to constrict his movements.
Mor’s grin widened as she caught your sword mid-swing. “You’re distracted,” she said.
You twisted to break free, stubbornly meeting her gaze. “Am not.”
You tried to return to the rhythm of the fight, but Mor was right. You were distracted. Every glance in Azriel’s direction made your heart race, your mind spiral. Even from across the yard, you could feel the heat of his presence. It threw you off balance. And before you knew it, Mor disarmed you, sending you crashing to the ground with a grunt.
“Like I said,” she hummed, smirking as she extended a hand to help you up. “Distracted.”
“Maybe a bit.” You winced, rolling your shoulders as you stood straight. “I have too much on my mind. I haven’t been sleeping well.”
Mor tilted her head. “Wanna talk about it?”
You shook your head, wiping at the sweat on your brow. “That’s the last thing I want to do, actually.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, assessing you before she nodded. “Well, we just got some new weapons last week—I’ve been dying to test them out.”
You raised a brow. “What kind of weapons?”
Mor shrugged. “Not sure. Rhys says they’re lighter. I think you’ll like them.” She grabbed your discarded sword, tossing both it and hers onto the rack with ease. “You’re too cautious for a regular sword anyway. You don’t like getting hit.”
“No one likes getting hit.”
“True,” she said, laughing slightly as she bumped your shoulder. “But you’re smart about it. Always letting them exhaust themselves first.”
“Go get them,” you nodded to her. “I want to try them out.”
Mor grinned. “Good. Then I can start kicking your ass with them, too.”
She turned to leave, and you watched her go, ready to grab some water. But then, just as you were about to turn, you felt it—a presence behind you. You knew it in your bones, from the soft breeze you swore his shadows danced in, that it was Azriel. Still, when you turned and saw him standing there, you felt unprepared, like something in your chest tightened, hot and sharp, like heartburn. You shoved it down, burying it deeper, just like you had been doing all week.
He raised an eyebrow at you.  “You’re really gonna let her beat you like that?”
You ran a hand over your face, trying to settle your racing pulse. “What can I say, it’s been an off couple of weeks.”
It was hard not to notice how close he stood, the way his presence seemed to fill the space, pushing the air around you in a way that made it harder to breathe.
“Yeah,” Azriel glanced at you, and his expression softened just a fraction. “Are you okay? I mean, now?”
You nodded too fast. “Yeah. Just hot. Overwhelmed.”
He studied you, his brow slightly furrowed, but there was something else behind it. Something he wasn’t saying.
“You can’t possibly be comfortable,” you said, gesturing at his leathers. “Aren’t you boiling alive?”
Azriel tilted his head as if considering your question, then replied evenly, “I’m alright.”
“You’re lying,” you replied, narrowing your eyes at him. “You have to be.”
That earned you a faint smile, a quick twitch of his lips that you might have missed if you weren’t already watching him too closely.
“You’re welcome to try them on,” he said smoothly. “See how they feel.”
You blinked, a small flutter echoing in your chest at the teasing edge in his voice. You frowned and said to him, “I’m wearing the exact same thing as you.”
“Mine are different.” His smile tugged again. “They’re cooling leathers.”
“Really? That's a thing?”
The look he gave you— a mix of amusement and something else— told you everything you needed to know. You scowled at him, but there was no real heat behind it. “You’re messing with me.”
When your eyes met his again, they were practically glowing in amusement. He shrugged, and his shadows seemed to dance with the motion— still clinging close to him, hiding from the sun, but seemingly content despite it. He gave you a quick, warm smile— as if he were afraid for the rest of the public to see.
“I am,” he replied, leaning closer. “My leathers are, sadly, just as basic as yours.”
The sunlight caught in his hair when he stood like this, painting it with faint golden streaks. Along with your growing frustration at the heat, your stomach twisted uncomfortably at the sight of him. You fanned your face with one hand, trying to ignore the ache building in your chest. You blamed the sun for making it tight. 
You suddenly became aware of your presentation—of the disheveled way you must have looked. Your hair had fallen loose during the sparring with Mor, strands clinging to the sweat at your neck, a messy halo around your face. You reached back, gathering it in both hands, attempting to tighten the hold of your hair tie. As you twisted it around, the elastic snapped, the sharp sting of it flicking against your skin.
“Shit.”
A quiet sigh left you as the broken tie dangled uselessly from your fingers. Of course. As if you didn’t already feel like disaster enough. You pushed your hair back again, fingers combing through the tangled strands, debating whether to leave it down or try to secure it with something else.
You realized, quickly, that perhaps this small inconvenience was a blessing in disguise— a reason to walk away from the conversation, to regain control of your scattered thoughts. You opened your mouth to excuse yourself, to say you needed to go put your hair up, but before you could, Azriel spoke.
“Wait.”
You paused, turning back toward him as he reached into one of the hidden pockets of his leathers. When he pulled out a hair tie, your eyebrows shot up.
“What—”
Azriel’s expression was uncharacteristically sheepish as he handed it over. “You always wear the same one. I noticed the band was wearing out. It was only a matter of time before it broke.”
“You… noticed that?”
His shadows shifted around him, curling between you two, and he subtly gestured toward them with his chin. “They did.”
Your fingers closed around the band as you stared at him. “So you’ve been carrying this around just in case?”
He nodded and you blinked at him, unsure if you should laugh or melt into the floor. “That… is very considerate of you.”
Az glanced at you, quiet for a moment, before he replied. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to snap and pick a fight with someone because you're overstimulated with your hair clinging to your skin. I’m just trying to protect the public.”
You rolled your eyes at that, though the thought of your family endlessly reminding you of your actions over the past few weeks made the corners of your mouth twitch. The infamous calm you’d prided yourself on—gone. You’d be hearing about your fight with a citizen for at least the next century.
“Shut up,” you said, but your heart still stuttered painfully. “But, also, thank you,” you added, focusing on twisting your hair into a knot to avoid meeting his eyes.
“Better?”
Your throat felt tight as you looked up once more, meeting his molten gaze. “Yeah,” you said. “Better.”
Azriel nodded, stepping back to give you space again. But you caught the faint curve of his lips, the small, quiet smile that made your chest ache.
You felt some relief as the wind ruffled your now-updo, but your thoughts circled.
Azriel had proven to be a male of his word. He’d spent the past two weeks showing you, in every way he could, that he was sorry. It wasn’t loud or showy—Azriel never was—but his apology seeped into the small, thoughtful things he did. Helping with reports, lighting your room’s fireplace when it got too cold. Nothing demanding, but everything that proved he was trying.
It almost felt normal again, like you and Azriel had fallen back into your usual rhythm. Your routine. 
Almost.
“Good luck,” Azriel said, nodding toward where Mor was returning with the new weapons. He leaned in slowly, his shadows drifting between your shoulders, curling in the pocket of shadow created by your closeness. “And, if you want… we can go flying afterward. To celebrate you beating Mor.”
The idea of being so close to him, of having him hold you to his chest, feeling his heartbeat against yours as he carried you, made your stomach churn, made you feel nauseous. Nervous. But you nodded anyway, smiled like it was just another plan, like old times. It felt tight. Diplomatic. 
“Okay,” you managed to say.
Azriel smiled, and you heard Mor’s voice asking what you were conspiratorially talking about. You didn’t answer, didn’t bother to pay attention if Azriel answered, either. The new, sleek steel weapons she’d returned with felt different in your hands. Lighter, faster. Mor had been right—these suited you better. But it didn’t matter. You were too lost in your head, too tangled in your thoughts.
Even if Mor had kept her eyes closed, she still would’ve won the next fight. You weren’t focused enough to stand a chance. There was a brief, confused look in her eyes when she realized how easily she’d taken you down once again.  But she didn’t press, not even as you yielded for the day and ran home, slipping into a cool bath with the hope that it would clear your mind of everything that tainted it.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
You stacked the last of the reports on the living room table, smoothing your palm over the top page before grabbing a scrap of parchment.
Rhys—went through the latest proposals and highlighted the ones most viable. Let me know if you need anything else.
You stuck the note on the pile and stepped back, scanning the work you’d spent the past few weeks compiling.
Rhysand would be by later to go over them with Azriel—discussions about Hewn City’s reformation efforts, the best way to bridge the centuries-old divide between the Court of Nightmares and the Court of Dreams. You’d done your best to outline a path forward, to present the grievances of its citizens in a way Rhysand could use to negotiate.
Your fingers drummed idly against the edge of the table before you caught sight of your wrist. The small hair tie sat there, snug against your skin. And although it was nothing, just a simple band, it felt as if it were burning. You weren’t sure why you were still wearing it—why it wasn’t in a pocket or left in your room, ready to be summoned when needed. You ran your fingers over it, jaw clenching as frustration rose in you, sudden and sharp.
At what, exactly? You didn’t know.
You did know, however, that it was likely related to Azriel.
You’d been avoiding him since the other day at training. Since he’d given you the small elastic now circling your wrist.
It wasn’t intentional, not really, but you’d been thinking too much. Feeling too much. Uncomfortable in your own skin, hyperaware of yourself and Azriel in ways that made your stomach twist. Like pressing against a tender bruise.
The anger you’d been holding onto—the indignation that had burned hot and bright in the aftermath of your fight—faded much faster than you’d expected. You still wanted to be angry, to hold onto the grudge that felt like armor, but Azriel made it impossible. His kindness had chafed against you, rubbing away at the edges of your resentment till all that was left was an overly aware sense of him. Of his presence, his care. His devotion to something as simple as your forgiveness. 
You’d forgiven him within a week, had taken all of his baked goods with open arms, had expressed appreciation for the times his shadows brought you snacks during your late nights with Rhys and Feyre, going over negotiation plans for the reformation efforts. 
But Azriel was being too nice now. Too thoughtful. Too much. And it was starting to wear you down.
You were noticing him in ways that felt deeper, heavier, and far more dangerous. It was overwhelming, this shift in perspective—like seeing him in a new light that illuminated details you’d never thought to look at before. The slope of his shoulders, the way he always seemed to be aware of you, even when he wasn’t looking at you. You felt blinded, too rushed to adjust to this new, backlit version of Azriel.
It stressed you out— made you want to sit down and create a list, sort through the pros and cons like some sort of strategy meeting. Analyze the feelings bubbling in your chest until you could pin them down and find the most equitable, profitable, and logical path forward. The right direction to take.
Realistically, you should wait it out. Let the feelings settle and fade before they could complicate the beautiful, solid friendship you’d built over centuries. You weren’t even sure what you were feeling. You couldn’t risk something so vital over emotions you didn’t fully understand.
The front door clicked open.
You turned at the sound of footsteps, eyes falling on Azriel’s figure as he stepped inside. His hair was a little mussed, dark strands sticking to his forehead like he’d flown through the midday heat. A faint flush tinted his cheeks, and for a moment, you wondered if the sun was still blazing in the midsky—if the warmth on his face was from exertion or simply the sun pressing down on him.
He took two large strides before his hazel eyes landed on you. His expression shifted, then, brightened, as if he hadn’t expected to find you here. The soft tug at the corners of his mouth, almost a smile but not quite, was enough to send your pulse into a sharp, erratic rhythm.
“Hey,” he said, lightly. “You’re home.”
“That I am.” You smiled and met his eyes. “Hi.”
He hesitated for a moment, then stepped farther into the room, something small and wrapped in plain paper in his hand.
“I’m glad I caught you. I have something for you,” he said, holding it out to you.
You blinked, glancing between him and the package. “What is it?”
“Some tea,” he said, his gaze flickering to yours before darting away. “For sleep.”
“For sleep?” you repeated, taking the package carefully, his shadows greeting you with a gentle circle around your wrists.
Azriel nodded, his hand falling to his side. “I noticed the other day. When you were sparring with Mor. You were leaning more on your left. You do that when you’re tired.”
Your chest tightened, your fingers curling instinctively around the package. “It was that noticeable?”
“Yeah,” he said. “ To me at least. I thought this might help.”
You didn’t know what to say to that, the simple thoughtfulness of it wrapping around you like a weight you weren’t ready to carry. You opened the package carefully, revealing a small tin filled with pouches of tea. You swallowed, staring down at the item in your hands.
“Thank you. This is…” You trailed off, your voice failing you. “This is really sweet, Az.”
“Let me know if it helps,” he said, shifting his weight slightly, his wings twitching behind him. “If you like it, I’ll get more.” He gave a small, almost tentative, smile. “Or maybe I’ll try it myself.”
You nodded, clutching the package tighter. “Okay. Yeah. I will.”
For a moment, there was nothing but silence between you. You turned, intending to step away, to put some distance between you and the sudden awkwardness settling in your chest. But as you moved past him, Azriel stepped closer, just enough that the space between you disappeared. For a moment, you were not quite touching, just close enough that you could feel the heat of him, the faint scent of night-chilled air and cedar.
And then his hand caught yours. When you glanced back at him, his expression had softened, a sense of concern flickering in his eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low, intimate. Like he was sharing a secret despite you both being the only ones in the room. 
Your breath caught. You could see the faint crease in his brow, the way his gaze searched your face like he was trying to find his answer there, in your features. “Yeah,” you said quietly, even though your heart was pounding.
“Are you sure?” he pressed. His thumb brushed over your skin absentmindedly, as it usually did when he soothed you on bad days. Your breath hitched at how intimate it felt now, how aware it made you of his touch. “Are we okay?”
You blinked, frowning at his words. “Yeah, of course. Why would you ask that?”
He hesitated. “I don’t know. I just…I feel like I’ve barely seen you lately.”
“I’ve been busy,” you replied quickly, but the excuse felt hollow even as you said it. 
“Yeah,” he murmured, but something in his tone made you think he didn’t believe you. After a moment, he added, “Are you still mad at me?”
“No,” you said after a pause, and it was the truth. You weren’t angry at Azriel, not anymore. It had completely faded, morphed into something else entirely.
You felt guilty about how you'd been acting, how you'd resorted to avoiding him in an effort to make yourself feel better. Because, despite you telling him otherwise, you knew Azriel was interpreting your distance as proof that you were still mad. 
Azriel nodded, but his expression didn’t quite relax. His hand tightened slightly around yours. “But you’d tell me, right? If something was wrong?”
“Of course.”
His gaze softened further, his eyes almost pleading. “Because I always want to know,” he said quietly. “If something’s wrong. I want to know.”
You couldn’t breathe. His hand was still on yours, his thumb brushing soft, slow circles over your skin like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. You were going to vomit. You were going to be sick. You had to leave. You had to get out of here before you did something reckless, before you said something you couldn’t take back.
“I know, Az. But, I should… I need to go,” you said, stepping back and gently pulling your hand from his. “I have a lot of errands to run.”
Azriel blinked, his brows drawing together in confusion. “Oh. Okay.”
You clutched the package tighter to your chest, avoiding his gaze as you backed toward the door. “Thanks again for this. Really.”
He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then stopped, nodding instead. “Let me know if it helps.”
You nodded quickly, forcing a tight, polite smile before slipping out of the room.
When you made it upstairs, you grabbed a coat, barely paying attention to which one, and were out of the townhouse before you had the chance to run into Azriel again. You didn’t know where you were going—only that it needed to be away from him.
For a strange, fleeting moment, you found yourself wishing you were angry at him again. Wishing he was being stubborn and unfair instead of sweet and thoughtful. It had been easier then, even when it hurt, because at least you’d known how to deal with it.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
Velaris buzzed with midday energy, alive with movement and the sounds of life. The streets teemed with couples strolling hand in hand, children darting between legs, their laughter woven into the hum of conversation. You wove through it all in a haze, your mind spinning like a top. For a brief moment, you scowled at the love surrounding you—wondering if it had always been this prevalent, this visible, this... everywhere.
You hadn’t come up with a plan since leaving the townhouse, still unsure of where you were going—or if you even wanted to go anywhere at all. All you knew was that you needed to keep moving. Moving meant you were occupied. And being occupied meant you could at least try to ignore the noise—both the loud thoughts and the feelings twisting inside you. But no matter how fast you walked, how hard you tried to lose yourself in the busy streets, the fluttering in your chest wouldn't let you forget.
You weren’t stupid. You knew what it meant, even as you fought with everything you had to deny it. But maybe... maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe Selene had gotten into your head and now you were overthinking everything—reading too much into Azriel’s kindness, his care. You’d seen it before, convincing yourself of something that wasn’t true, spiraling until you couldn’t trust your own judgment.
You didn’t see the person you bumped into until it was too late. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, shaking yourself from your thoughts, but when you looked up—
“Oh,” you said, startled. You blinked at the male before you. “Hello.”
The golden light caught his hair—a rich, burnished brown that framed sharp, handsome features. Made them seem almost celestial.
Adrin smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly, two small dimples forming at his cheeks. “Y/n. Hello.”
“Adrin,” you said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”
“No harm done,” he said easily. His tone was light, but there was a flicker of concern as he studied your face. “Are you…doing all right? I heard about what happened.”
“Yeah,” you said quickly, nodding. “It's a long story. But everything is okay.”
Adrin tilted his head, and although the smile was still there— that warm welcoming smile— his brows drew together slightly. “You seem…bothered. Long day?”
You huffed a small laugh, rubbing absentmindedly at your chest. “Something like that.”
He nodded, thoughtful. “I know the feeling. It’s been one of those days for me, too. I was about to try and make it better—clear my head a little.” He hesitated, then added, “You could join me, if you’d like.”
You blinked at him. “Oh, no, I don’t want to interrupt your plans—”
“You wouldn’t be.” He was quick to shake his head. “Really. I’d like the company.”
You hesitated. Thought through the idea. You liked Adrin. And while you wanted to run—hide away, retreat into the quiet of your own mind—you knew it would only make your thoughts spiral faster. But being around your family, or anyone who might see through you immediately, made you itch with unease.
Maybe this was exactly what you needed. The chance to be with someone who wouldn’t pry, someone who seemed genuine in his invitation.
“Sure, yeah. What are you thinking?”
Adrin’s lips twitched into a small grin. “I might have just the thing we both need.”
An hour later, you found yourself at his apartment, stretched out on his balcony overlooking the city. The air was cooler here, quieter, the noise of the streets below softened into a distant hum. The smell of mirthroot curled in the space between you, something so distinctly warm and earthy.
You breathed it in, already feeling lighter, like you were melting into your chair—but in a good way, not like earlier, when the heat had pressed against you relentlessly.
You took a slow pull from the rolled mirthroot stick Adrin had handed you. For the first time that day, your shoulders eased.
“Feeling any better?” he asked.
You exhaled slowly, watching the plume of smoke dissipate into the air. A soft laugh escaped you.  
“Oh yeah. I kind of forgot how much I like mirthroot. This is dangerous.”
Adrin chuckled, and you glanced over at him, watching as his lips curved into a lopsided smile—only one dimple visible now. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
You tilted your head, studying him further. “I wouldn’t have expected you to be into this,” you said, gesturing to the rolled stick in your hand.
His brows furrowed. “Why's that?”
You shrugged, still smiling, your face warm—not from embarrassment, but from the pleasant haze settling over you. “I don’t know. You’re from the Dawn Court. You’re a healer. You just seem disciplined. Like, above this.”
Adrin let out a full, rich laugh, the sound making your grin widen. “Please. Let’s go through that again. I come from Dawn. I’m a male healer. A pacifist, even.”
You paused, letting his words replay in your mind before it finally clicked.
“So it makes total sense,” you said, correcting yourself.
Adrin nodded sagely, and another small round of laughter followed, easy and unhurried. You realized how much you liked that about him. That his presence wasn’t demanding. That he let things be light. Maybe that was why it was always easy to converse with him whenever you’d stopped by Madjas. 
You inhaled again, letting yourself sink further into the feeling, into the rare quiet of your thoughts. Even now, though, even floating, something tugged at you. Some part of you that refused to be fully untethered. The rational side of your mind begged for a break from the relentless circling of your thoughts, but you shoved the worst of them away, opting instead to focus on the ones that didn’t hurt.
“Hey,” you said suddenly. “Can I ask you a really weird question?”
“Sure.” Adrin straightened slightly, tossing you a quick glance as he brought his mirthroot to his lips.
You hesitated, but the mirth haze had worked through your nerves, made you bolder, more loose lipped. “Do you have a crush on me?”
He choked on his next inhale, coughing before looking at you, eyes wide. “Sorry?”
“Nevermind. That was weird. Sorry,” you said quickly, looking away, waving it off. “Forget I said anything.”
But he shook his head, smiling faintly as he leaned in slightly. “No, it’s okay. I’ve always appreciated how forward you are. Honest. It’s refreshing.”
You blinked at him. “Really?”
He nodded. Then he paused for a moment, contemplating.  “If you’re asking if I find you attractive, the answer is yes. I think you’re beautiful.”
Something in your chest tightened.
“But,” he continued, “I wouldn’t say I have a crush on you. That feels… shallow. I don’t know you enough to call it that. It would be liking the idea of you. I don’t like doing that.”
His honesty was just as refreshing as he claimed yours to be. It loosened something in your chest—some small guilt that had settled when Mor first suggested you go out with him. Guilt at the idea that someone you’d grown to enjoy might want something from you that you couldn’t give.
If only everyone was this articulate. If only Az—
You shoved the thought away and exhaled slowly. “That’s… a really nice answer.”
Adrin smiled again, but this time, it was smaller, softer. “Does it bother you?”
“No,” you admitted, shaking your head. “It doesn’t.”
“Good,” he said. “I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. I have no expectations here. I enjoy the friendship we’ve built—if you’d call it that.”
“Of course I would,” you said softly. A small chuckle escaped your lips as you raised your rolled mirthroot and nodded toward the one between his fingers. “And if I didn’t consider you a friend before, you’re definitely one now.”
Adrin’s laugh rang out, warm and melodic, filling the space between you. It was soothing, like the sound itself carried the calm of his healing touch.
You settled into a comfortable silence, the easy rhythm of conversation lingering between you as you both watched the city below. But then, without warning, your mind wandered once more.
This time, it drifted toward the upcoming event Rhys was hosting—a formal gathering to show appreciation for allies and those who’d supported him. At his own home, too. A gesture of humility. You could already picture the glittering decorations in the River House, the couples dressed to the nines, gliding together in effortless, practiced harmony.
Usually, those scenes didn’t bother you.
You’d never minded attending events alone, enjoying the freedom to slip in and out of conversations as you pleased. But now, the thought of walking into that hall, of watching so many people in love around you… It grated. And you knew exactly why. Azriel’s words, his reasoning for changing while dating Selene—how everyone was falling in love, moving on—echoed in your mind, and you hated how tightly they clung to you.
They’d made you feel like something was wrong with you for not actively seeking out love. For being content with being single. Alone.
You glanced at Adrin.
“Adrin,” you said, clearing your throat. “Are you busy this weekend?”
“I don’t believe so. Why?”
“There’s an event—Rhysand is hosting. It’s an appreciation for those who help him. I was wondering if you’d want to come with me. Considering everything you’ve done to help Madja… and us.”
His brows lifted slightly, surprise flickering in his expression before he smiled. “Really?”
You nodded, waiting and watching him as he thought through his answer.
“The company of a friend is always nice for events,” he said finally.
Your heart stilled at his use of the word "friend.” It felt reassuring. Safe. A reminder that he truly didn’t hold any expectations, just as he’d said only a few minutes prior.
“Yes,” you replied softly, a small smile curling your lips. “It always is.”
“I’d be honored to go. Thank you for the invite, Y/n. I’ve never been to big events like that.”
You laughed lightly. “If you keep letting me smoke your mirthroot, you can come to every event with me forever.”
He grinned, shaking his head, his hair falling across his forehead in an effortlessly charming way. “Is that what I’ve become now? A drug dealer and a friend in one?”
“Yes,” you teased. “A breath of fresh air, really.”
You both fell into another comfortable pause, settling into the easy rhythm of each other’s presence. You wondered what was going on inside Adrin’s mind. His eyes had grown distant, like he was retreating into his thoughts. He had mentioned having a long day too. You hoped he was feeling better now, just as you were, that perhaps your company had offered him what his had offered you—a reprieve.
Adrin reminded you of someone else in your life. Someone with teal eyes and the same easy, friendly humor. You smiled at the fleeting thought that crossed your mind, something quick and bright, like a shooting star.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
Azriel’s meeting with Rhysand had taken longer than expected, forcing both males to venture to the Hewn City itself. By the time he returned home, the city of Velaris was already asleep.
Azriel felt conflicted as he passed by your door, his shadows lingering just long enough to confirm that you were safe and asleep in bed. He was relieved, glad that you were finally getting the rest you needed, but a deep, quiet disappointment gnawed at him.
He was planning to catch you one last time today—to talk, even for a moment. To tell you about the meeting with Rhys and how brilliant your plans were, how he was praising them despite you not being there to bask in the compliments. He knew you loved the feedback, knew you loved hearing how your hard work paid off. It always did.
But Azriel knew, even then, the conversation would feel off.
Things had felt off since the night he apologized—and even his shadows had confirmed it wasn’t just in his mind. That he wasn’t simply overthinking.
You’d said you weren’t mad anymore, that you two were okay. But Azriel still felt, still knew, that something was wrong. 
Things weren’t normal. They weren’t hostile, and Azriel was beyond thankful for that, but it wasn’t comfortable like it used to be. You seemed to be hesitating around him. It gutted him to think that he had made you wary, made you overthink how you acted around him. He’d stripped himself of his own comfort.
Azriel stepped into his room slowly, feeling the weight of the day begin to catch up with him the moment he crossed the threshold. The door clicked shut behind him, and for a moment, he just stood there, leaning against the frame as he let the quiet settle around him.
The familiar emptiness of the room greeted him. His dresser was bare, the surface wiped clean once again. Mor had, strangely excitedly, offered to clear it out for him when she first learned about Selene’s betrayal. Despite the anger simmering inside him, Azriel had made her promise not to take any drastic measures—he didn’t want her to engage with Selene at all. Mor had reluctantly agreed.
Azriel took a few more steps into the room, and with each movement, the exhaustion that had been nagging him all day seemed to settle more heavily on his shoulders—his body was sore, his mind buzzing with a thousand half-thoughts.
His shoulders slumped as he sank onto the edge of the bed, his hands moving to rub his face, fingers dragging through the mess of his hair.
Azriel hadn’t placed all the items Selene moved, the minimal decorations he owned, back where they belonged yet. But he opened his bedside table and grabbed the one thing he was thinking about—the strange clay creation of him you’d made.
His mind wandered to the night he cleaned your wounds and apologized.
He’d traced the change back to that moment.
Azriel didn’t know why he felt disappointed, why he had expected something different from that interaction. He’d apologized, finally, as he’d intended to—though too late, he told himself, because you’d gotten hurt. But you had accepted it, had looked at him with that same softness he’d come to admire, and accepted it. You’d cracked a joke. You both laughed. It had felt simple again, natural, like Azriel had finally found his way back to himself. But something in him sank when he’d said that one line—when he said he didn’t know why he’d entertained the idea that you’d ever have feelings for him.
He wasn’t sure why, but it tasted so wrong—sour, like something rotten.
He let himself sink further into his thoughts.
Azriel had never seen himself as lovable. At least, not in the way everyone else was. 
From the moment he was thrown into that dungeon as a boy, he’d believed he deserved every punishment, every scar, every moment of suffering. The people who should have loved him—the people who were supposed to care—had only taught him he was a burden, something broken and unwanted.
When he left that darkness behind, it followed him, reshaping him into something sharp and unrelenting. A weapon. He became what was needed, what a High Lord required, committing acts that would haunt him for the rest of his life. He wore those deeds like armor, each one another layer of the male he thought he had to be.
Love, he assumed, had to be just as hard. How could it not be? He was unworthy of the softness others found so easily. While Rhysand, Cassian, Amren, and Mor managed to find it, to hold onto it despite their own sins, Azriel had only ever known heartbreak.
So he told himself that love—for him—would never be simple. It would require blood, pain, sacrifice, and suffering. He thought love needed to ache in his chest, leaving him hollow and desperate, clawing for scraps of something he couldn’t quite hold. That it had to be fought for with every ounce of strength he had. And maybe even that wouldn’t be enough.
Something had changed, though, regarding how he thought about love. 
His fingers brushed the rough edges of the clay figure in his palm. It was uneven and messy, painted in smudges that bled into each other. The proportions were laughably off—the wings crooked, the body too long—but it fit perfectly in his hand nonetheless.
He held it carefully, turning it over as his chest tightened. You’d made this for him, drunk off your ass and laughing with the others, your hands coated in clay. You’d sculpted a miniature version of him without a second thought.
And though it wasn’t a gift, though you hadn’t even mentioned it after that night, Azriel kept it. Kept it somewhere safe, somewhere he could easily grab it and remind himself that if someone as kind as you could love him, care for him the way you did, then he must not be as awful as his mind often tried to convince him he was.
You’d seen the worst of him—all the jagged edges and dark, unspoken parts. He was the softest with you, a side of himself he never showed anyone else, but somehow also the worst. You’d heard the things he’d done, seen him caked in blood that wasn’t his, and still, you had sculpted him. Still, you thought of him when you were having fun.
Azriel had begun to realize that, in reality, love seemed to be… patient. Gentle.
The love his family had found was hard at times, yes, and needed to be fought for, like everything important. But it was kind. Natural.
And so Azriel thought long and hard, the clay figure resting warm in his hand, his shadows curling and twisting softly around him. They whispered your name, over and over, like a quiet, delicate prayer.
And that was when everything clicked into place.
That deep longing he felt to see you, that comfort he found in your presence, the ability to be open, bare, seen, and unafraid—
That feeling was love.
He was in love with you.
And he suddenly couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
authors note: hey yall.... how we feeling?????
so like im invested. and also i kinda love Adrin like yesss gimme a stoner healer man who respects a persons boundaries and doesnt crush on the idea of them before knowing them!!!
and yesss for azriel being in love!!! hes gonna be struggling with this new realization, fighting the Voices in the corner of his room and being jealous over things he doesn’t need to be jealous over. mmmmmm delicious
i do believe….there may only be one (1) part left 🫢
as always— thank you for reading 🫶🏻
and don’t forget your daily clicks for palestine !
permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 
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@marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters @starswholistenanddreamsanswered 
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kateschi · 3 months ago
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same book, different chapters
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synopsis: an ordinary evening takes a turn when katsuki expresses what you've always known but never expected to hear.
pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader
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being with katsuki is a lesson in unspoken understanding. you knew who he is long before you started dating him—loud, brash, and not the type to share his feelings openly.
but it didn’t take long to realize there’s so much more to him than that. his love is quiet, reserved, and shown in the details:
how he pulls you out of the way of a passing car, or how he remembers the smallest things, like your favorite kind of tea or that you prefer your coffee without sugar.
and that is enough for you. mostly.
you didn’t expect him to be the kind of boyfriend who says "I love you" with ease. katsuki isn’t like that. it isn’t something you hold against him either.
but every now and then, a small part of you wonders what it would be like to hear him say it—to hear those three words slip past his lips in the same way they had from yours.
you say it first, a quiet “I love you” in the middle of a peaceful night when the world outside feels still.
his response comes in the shape of hugging you tighter, securing you in his arms. however, he doesn’t say it back, and you don’t expect him to. you don’t need him to.
still, there are times when you find yourself holding your breath, wondering if one day he’ll actually verbalize it.
it isn’t that you doubt his feelings. katsuki isn’t one to waste time on things or people he doesn’t care about.
you know how much he cares by the way he silently takes care of you, always putting you first in his own way, even when his words are rough around the edges.
it’s just that sometimes, words have a way of making things feel more real.
tonight is one of those easy evenings you cherish—one where you don’t have to think too much about anything. the two of you are in your kitchen, making dinner together, though “together” is generous.
you’re doing most of the work while katsuki stands next to you, arms crossed, casting a critical eye over everything you do.
“you’re putting too much salt,” he says, the frown on his face making you smile.
“pretty sure this is the exact amount the recipe says to use,” you reply, amused at how serious he always gets when it comes to food.
“that recipe’s wrong. I could’ve made this better with my eyes closed.”
“then why don’t you?” you tease, turning your head to glance at him. his gaze is sharp as usual, but the small curve in the corner of his lips betrays him.
“maybe I’ll cook next time,” he grumbles, looking away like the very idea of giving in bothers him.
you laugh softly, enjoying the banter. this is something you love about him—how even in these simple moments, his presence fills the space with a sense of ease.
there’s no pressure to be anything other than yourselves, even when his blunt honesty clashes with your more relaxed approach.
as you stir the pot, you can’t help but let your thoughts wander back to the three words. you know katsuki isn’t the type to say things until he’s ready, and you respect that.
but part of you is curious—would it ever come naturally to him, or would it always be something unspoken between the two of you?
still, as you stand there, the warmth of his steady presence beside you, you realize that maybe you’re okay with it remaining unspoken. katsuki shows his love in ways that don’t need words to validate them.
and then, without warning, you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. you freeze for a moment, caught off-guard.
“katsuki?” you ask, your voice soft, as you lean into him instinctively.
he doesn’t answer right away, just holds you there. his touch isn’t hesitant, but it is different from the usual casual touches you’ve grown used to.
“you’re annoying sometimes,” he mutters, voice low in your ear.
you chuckle, relaxing further into his hold. “I know.”
there’s silence for a beat, and then: “but I love you anyway, idiot.”
you blink, unsure if you’ve heard him correctly. you turn your head slightly, trying to see his face, but he buries it against your neck, hiding his expression. “did you just—?”
“don’t make a big deal out of it,” he mumbles, voice suddenly gruff, though you can hear the embarrassment beneath the words.
a smile breaks across your face, warmth spreading through your chest. you didn’t expect it, but that makes it all the more special. he isn’t saying it because the moment demands it.
he isn’t saying it because you’re waiting. he says it because he wants to, because he feels it.
“I’m not,” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably as your happiness bubbles up in your voice. “but…I love you too.”
you feel his grip tighten around you and a kiss pressed to your shoulder.
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kofi — navigation — masterlist
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do not copy, translate, or plagarize
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vunblr · 4 months ago
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What if...?
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Unprotected sex. Dirty talk. Slight Angst.
Summary: Bucky navigates his insecurities and guilt from his past as he grows closer to his new neighbor, a nurse.
Word Count: About 8.4k.
I want to make a revision on this one, I just forget to.
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She knew exactly who he was the first time they bumped into each other when she ran toward the stairs of her apartment building, and he suddenly emerged from them, lost in thought. He wasn’t wearing his gloves, and the glint of metal was pretty noticeable when he reached out to grab her elbow to prevent her from falling backward. The touch was brief, since he retired his hand promptly when he was sure she would not fall, his blue eyes revealing something akin to regret.
“I… I’m sorry,” he stammered, in a low voice as he retracted his hand, tucking it into his jacket.
“Oh, don’t be,” she responded, the corners of her lips lifting just slightly as she waved her hand dismissively. “I should’ve been more careful. The elevator’s out, and I was in such a hurry… ugh. We always tell the kids not to run in hallways and stairs because accidents can happen, and here I am-" She cut herself off, realizing she was rambling, and gave an embarrassed smile. “Anyway… hi. I’m Y/n, I just moved in yesterday.” She extended her hand.
He reached out, and his grip was firm but gentle. “James Barnes, but most people call me Bucky.”
Her eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, and as she straightened her nurse uniform, she bit her lip. Handsome. The cute wrinkles that creased the corners of his striking blue eyes, were the kind that hinted at a man who had both smiled and seen more than his fair share of hardship, and it was hard not to notice. His body, the epitome of perfection. She mentally slapped herself for staring. “Well, Bucky, I’m running late for work, so I need to go, but I’ll see you around. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
He nodded, watching as she hurried down the stairs, her uniform swaying slightly with her steps. He stood there, rooted to the spot for a moment longer than he should have, replaying the soft smile on her lips.
The days after that encounter passed in a blur of awkward run-ins. Each time, she greeted him with the same soft smile, and each time, Bucky found himself lost in thoughts he hadn’t allowed himself in years.
It started with a polite nod, maybe a smile here and there, but soon, their brief encounters turned into casual conversations. Small talk about their days, the weather, even little jokes about the state of their shared building. He found himself looking forward to those moments, however fleeting they were, because it felt so easy to exchange a few words with her, how her laughter always seemed to come just when he needed to hear it. He’d often catch her gaze lingering on him a second too long before she looked away, and it was enough to make him wonder if maybe, she felt the same pull that he did.
-----
One evening, as they both stood waiting for the elevator, she quirked a brow at him. "You know, Bucky, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were following me." She teased.
He blinked, caught off guard, but the playful glint in her eyes made him relax. He let out a small chuckle. "Well… I could say the same about you." She laughed, and once again, the sound made him feel almost normal.
His therapist had been telling him for months that he was isolated, and that he needed to socialize, form connections. She had even suggested dating, but every time he tried, it hadn’t gone well. The interactions felt awkward, forced, and he often found an excuse to leave early, or worse, sometimes he didn’t even bother with an excuse, just walking out of there without a word.
There was something about Y/n that set her apart, mostly the ease with which their conversations flowed. He wasn’t the type to talk much, often keeping things curt and to the point, but she had this way of making the silence between them feel comfortable, never pushing him to share more than he wanted. He didn’t have to try so hard to keep up with standard appearances. But the pull toward her wasn’t just about feeling comfortable, he wanted her.
He caught himself watching her more often than he’d like to admit, she was exactly his type, soft and curvy in all the right places. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to touch her, to run his hands over her body, feel her warmth beneath his fingertips. But every time he got close to asking her out, fear crept in, locking the words in his throat. Fear of rejection, of being too damaged, of her seeing the parts of him he was ashamed of. It always stopped him.
Tonight felt different, though. There was something in her playful approach that made the fear feel less suffocating, less overwhelming. The elevator doors opened, and as they stepped inside, Bucky turned to her, his heart hammering in his chest. He could barely believe he was about to do this.
"Y/n?" he asked, his voice lower than usual.
She glanced at him. "Yeah?"
He swallowed hard, feeling the moment's weight as he stood before her, and almost panicked. This wasn’t something he was used to. He could fight in gruesome battles, survive impossible odds, flip a fucking armored truck with a tug of his arm… but asking someone out? That felt like a whole different battlefield. It was terrifying in a way those other things weren’t.
For a moment, he almost backpedaled. His mind scrambled, desperately searching for something else to say, some way to deflect his intentions and change the subject. But nothing came. He was stuck. He’d already opened his mouth, and there was no way to retreat now without looking like a fool.
Taking a deep breath, he jumped.
“Would you like to grab dinner with me sometime?” The words came out gruffly. For a second, the doubt crept in, making him wonder if he’d just made a mistake.
Her eyes widened in surprise before lighting up, and the smile that spreaded across her face, eased the knot on his stomach.
“Oh, I’d love to. It’d be fun to do something outside the building for a change. We run into each other so much, that I actually thought about asking you to hang out, but you always seemed rushed, like you couldn’t wait to leave. I’m glad that’s not the case.” She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “You know, we can be neighbors and friends. There’s nothing in the building rules against it.”
Bucky blinked, his heart sinking at the word friends. He forced one of the practiced, uncomfortable smiles his therapist suggested. Friendzoned -a term he’d only recently discovered- wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but he hadn’t spelled it out, either. Of course she thought he was just trying to be friendly, he hadn’t given her a fucking hint of his real intentions. He hadn’t flirted, hadn’t made even the slightest move to swoon her.
The old him would’ve had no trouble conveying his interest. He would’ve been smooth and confident, knowing exactly how to charm her and make his intentions clear. But he wasn’t that guy anymore. He hadn’t done this in decades, and the rules seemed to have shifted in ways he didn’t fully understand. Hell, he had shifted. He sighed. 
"Um..." he started, tentatively. "I... just want to be clear," he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, "I meant it... as a date. Not just neighbors or friends grabbing a bite."
For a moment, she didn’t respond, still processing what he had just said. And then, something clicked. Heat crept up her neck as her smile turned more thoughtful. He wanted to spend time with her not because they lived in the same building or happened to bump into each other, but because he was interested.
"Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realize… I mean…” she stumbled with her words, “I didn’t know you meant it like that." She has had her fair share of men in her life but being honest with herself, in a million years, she wouldn’t have guessed someone like him would be asking her out. Not Bucky, the quiet, handsome, brooding neighbor with the sharp jawline and the weight of a thousand untold stories in his eyes. For months, she had brushed off the little moments between them as neighborly interactions, and nothing more. It had been easier that way. Safer, maybe. But now, standing here, the truth of his intentions was undeniable.
Her smile softened, "I’m glad you clarified." she finally said. "And yeah, Bucky. I’d like that, a lot."
Bucky gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, as if he’d been holding his breath and had just now allowed himself to exhale. A faint smile crept onto his lips, one that actually reached his eyes, softening the hardened edges he usually carried.
"Great," he murmured. "I’ll, uh, figure something out."
They shared one last look before the elevator doors opened, and as they stepped out, his heart was still racing but this time, it wasn’t from fear.
------
The first date had been simple, almost quiet in its ease. He brought her flowers, a small, hesitant gesture that made her eyes light up. They went to a bistro and talked about life, interests, and the kind of things you only share when you feel a certain sense of safety with someone. Bucky never said more than necessary, but she learned to read the way his eyes softened when he listened, the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when she said something that caught him off guard. It was easy and comfortable as their previous interactions, and yet, in the back of his mind, there was always the whisper: do you even deserve this?
The second date was at the small café on the corner of their building. There had been more laughter this time, the conversation flowing easily. As they sat across from each other, their knees brushed under the table. It was subtle, almost unintentional. When it happened again, neither of them moved away.
They walked back in a comfortable silence. When they reached her door, she turned to face him and for a moment, the space between them felt heavier, thick with the weight of everything unsaid.
His hand hovered just near her lower back, not quite touching, but close enough that she felt the warmth of his body through the fabric of her dress. For a brief second, she thought he might pull her closer to break that last sliver of space between them, but he didn’t. His hand lingered for just a moment longer before falling away.
Bucky’s gaze dropped briefly to her lips, and his brows furrowed slightly before looking away, almost as if chastising himself. His old-fashioned upbringing, perhaps, held him back and kept him from making the move she half-expected, the one she wanted.
“Goodnight,” he said quietly, his voice rougher than usual. His tired eyes lingered on hers just a little too long, as if he were still debating, still fighting the pull to act on the desire he was clearly feeling.
She nodded, trying to ignore the flutter on her chest and to respect his boundaries, even though her hands itched to reach for him, to pull him closer and start what he wouldn’t. “Goodnight, Bucky,” she replied softly, her own voice betraying the emotions swirling beneath the surface.
They stood there for a heartbeat longer, the short distance between their doors now feeling like miles. He gave her a small, almost hesitant smile, then turned toward his own apartment, the silence between them somehow louder now.
By the time the third date approached, Bucky’s nerves were starting to get the better of him. He didn’t want to ruin this. The cocky Sergeant Barnes -the man who hadn’t yet turned into a walking nightmare- would’ve laughed at him. That version of himself had been bold, self-assured, the type of man who could sweep a woman off her feet without a second thought. He’d have taken the lead with ease, knowing exactly how to handle the situation. But that man was long gone, buried beneath the weight of all he had done, all he had become.
Before leaving for the date, he poured himself an imperial pint of asgardian ale. Just enough to give him a buzz, to take the edge off. Standing there, glass in hand, he caught his reflection in the window and sighed. Could she see it? The darkness? The scars left behind from being Hydra’s puppet? And even if she didn’t... how long until she did? You don’t deserve this, the voice whispered again, unrelenting.
------
That night, after dinner, they found themselves in her living room, two untouched coffee cups growing cold on the table beside them. The dim light softened the space around them, creating an intimate cocoon that made their conversation flow effortlessly. Yet, beneath the easy chatter, Bucky’s doubts lingered. He couldn’t shake the feeling that any move forward could shatter the delicate balance between them.
He’d been raised with a sense of propriety, a rhythm to follow when it came to courting. There was a dance to it, an unspoken set of rules about when to advance and when to hold back. The trouble now was figuring out how much to let himself move forward, how far to let this go before the weight of his past dragged him under again.
As their conversation naturally ebbed into silence, he noticed her gaze flicker to his lips, lingering just a bit longer than usual. His pulse quickened. She was giving him a sign, even if she hadn’t meant to. For a brief moment, he hesitated, but the look in her eyes, and the ale still running through his system urged him forward.
He leaned in slightly, their knees brushing, and the warmth of her body drew him closer. His hand hovered near her arm, and she responded getting closer, her lips parting ever so slightly as if inviting him in without saying a word.
Slowly, deliberately, he closed the distance between them, as his heart pounded in his chest. The kiss was meant to be soft and chaste, but all restraint flew out the window the second their lips touched.
His hand slipped to the small of her back, pulling her closer, the kiss growing hungrier, more urgent, as if months of longing were unraveling in that single moment. With a gentle, almost teasing flick of his tongue against her lower lip, he urged her to open her mouth. She complied, parting her lips as she allowed him in, and things turned molten. His tongue slid against hers, and the heat between them spiraled when she let out a quiet, breathless moan. The sound sent a jolt of desire pushing him further. His metal hand remained firm on her back, pulling her as close as possible, while the other slipped into her hair. She responded eagerly, gliding her fingers up his chest and tangling in his now messy bun, tugging him closer as if she couldn’t get enough. The kiss was all-consuming, urgent and messy, as months of tension finally broke free. Eventually, they slowly pulled apart, heavy breaths mingling in the charged air between them. His gaze dropped to her lips, now swollen and flushed from their activities, and he felt the undeniable pull to dive back in.
Then he noticed it. His vibranium hand had slid down to her waist and was gripping harder than he intended. Much harder. He swallowed and looked at it, realizing what he did. His hand, still gripping tightly, could had harm her. He sighed, as frustration and self-reproach tugged at him, unable to find a balance between his longing and his fear of hurting her.
She caught the sigh, and her eyes followed his downward gaze until they landed on his hand, still gripping her waist. And then it clicked, she understood. It wasn’t just the pressure of his hand; it was everything behind it. The strength he was constantly aware of, the control he had to maintain, the fear of hurting someone he cared about without meaning to. It wasn’t just about this moment, it was about everything he carried with him.
Instead of pulling away, she did the opposite. She shifted slightly, pressing closer into his hand, her body language reassuring him. With that small gesture, she was telling him she trusted him, she wasn’t fragile, and she wasn’t going to break. He didn’t need to hold back with her.
He exhaled softly, and a question bubbled up, one that had been lingering in his mind for far too long. “Have you ever thought how things would have been if we had met under different circumstances?” His tone was quiet, almost tentative, and the weight of the topic felt heavy in the intimate space between them.
Her brow furrowed slightly. “Different how?” she asked, leaning in a little, her eyes searching his.
Bucky took a breath, and his gaze drifted again as if he were caught somewhere between the past and the present. “I mean… if I hadn’t been…” He trailed off for a second, a shadow crossing his expression. “If I didn’t become what I am. If I’d been just… me.” His voice was low, barely above a whisper, as though speaking the words out loud might break something fragile between them.
She stayed quiet, giving him the space he needed, her hand resting gently on his arm, a subtle reassurance.
“I think about it sometimes,” he admitted, his eyes were still distant, fixed on a point somewhere beyond her. “If we’d met before all the... before everything.” His lips pressed into a thin line, guilt flickering behind his blue eyes. “Maybe in another time, I could’ve been just a guy. Someone who didn’t have…” He paused, his metal hand still against her back. “Someone that wouldn’t have been so messed up. Someone normal and approachable.”
Her heart clenched at the weight of his words. “Bucky…” she started, but he shook his head slightly as if to wave off her sympathy.
“I don’t know,” he continued, quieter now. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve…” He cut himself off, jaw tightening.
Without hesitation, she entwined their fingers, squeezing gently. “You do deserve this,” she said firmly, her voice unwavering as she met his gaze. She wasn’t going to let him retreat into the dark place where his self-deprecation lived. “You deserve to be happy, Buck. You’re a good man.” She sighed and shifted beside him, resting her head against the couch as she considered his previous words and then an idea popped up.
“Let’s see… if I had been born before 1920, I’d probably still be a nurse.” Her lips curved into a small smile as she looked at him sideways, eyes gleaming in the dim light. She watched him closely, seeing how he would react, her heart thumping just a little faster as she waited. “I’d have enlisted to work in a field hospital. And… who knows, maybe we could have met there when you were serving.” She let the thought linger in the air, light and playful, hoping it would lift the heaviness that had settled between them.
Bucky’s brows lifted slightly, and he tilted his head, with a faint smile tugging at his lips. He shifted closer to her without even realizing, his hand still resting lightly on her waist. “You would’ve been responsible for making sure I was fit for duty,” he mused, his tone was a little lighter now as if the idea of an alternate history didn’t seem so bad. “Keeping an eye on me, seeing my injuries, maybe even patching me up yourself.” He added with a playful edge, allowing himself to immerse in the scenario.
She grinned, shaking her head, eyes twinkling as she imagined the scene. “Oh, from what I heard about you, I doubt you would have visited the hospital very often, Sarge,” she teased, nudging his knee with hers playfully, a grin tugging at her lips.
Bucky chuckled, as his thumb began tracing slow, soothing circles on her back, a gesture she was growing fond of. “Probably not,” he agreed, leaning in slightly, his voice dipping into something softer. “But I would’ve noticed you from afar. Even if I had no reason to be there, you would’ve stood out.”
“Oh? Why’s that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Her fingers absentmindedly brushed the back of his hand, a smile playing on her lips as she waited for his answer.
Bucky glanced down at their intertwined hands, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against her softer ones. He looked back up at her. “Because you’re beautiful,” he said simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
She blinked, caught off guard. “Beautiful, me? Pfft!” She laughed softly, with a playful spark in her eyes. “But... now that I think about it, pin-up girls were a thing when you were serving, weren’t they?”
Bucky leaned back into the couch, pulling her with him, wrapping his arm firmer around her waist, a slow grin forming at her words. “Yeah, well, nurses were definitely included in the ‘interesting’ category too,” he teased. His eyes flicked down, tracing the curves of her body as his hand tightened slightly around her waist, making her feel self-conscious. “Especially ones with curves like yours.”
She let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head, but before she could say anything, Bucky continued, his voice lower now, a bit more serious. “You’d have been popular among the guys in camp, you know. They’d have been lining up, falling over themselves to get your attention.” He paused, his gaze flicking back to hers. “But trust me, I would’ve noticed you first. And I wouldn’t have let anyone else have a shot.”
Her cheeks heated as she tucked her legs beneath her, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh, so you would’ve asked me out?” she teased.
Bucky turned slightly toward her, the hand resting on her arm sliding down slowly, his fingers brushing her skin in soft, teasing strokes. “Oh, I wouldn’t have just asked,” he said with a smirk. “I’d have made sure you had no reason to say no.”
She felt her heart quicken at the subtle heat in his voice, the playful edge giving way to something more intense. Her breath hitched slightly, and she bit her lip as she gazed up at him. “Is that so?” she murmured, her voice soft, a bit more serious now. “And how would you have done that?” She leaned in a little, her shoulder brushing against his, her warmth radiating into the small space between them. “How was the game back then? Brought flowers? Invited me to dance?”
“Both, probably,” he murmured, resting his hand on her thigh, grazing the fabric of her dress with his thumb in slow, deliberate motions. “Flowers, because they’re classic... and dancing, because it’s intimate.”
“Well,” she whispered, leaning her head toward him, lips just inches from his ear, “I guess I would’ve let you court me, Sarge. Tell me about a date with you.”
Bucky’s hand tightened slightly on her thigh, the pressure just enough to make her heart race. His stubbled cheek brushed against hers as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin. “Saturday night,” he whispered, his lips barely grazing the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine, “dinner at the Officers’ Club, followed by a slow dance... and then back to my quarters for a proper goodnight kiss.”
Her breath hitched, her pulse quickening as the warmth of his breath and the weight of his words settled between them. She could feel the tension thickening in the air, her voice trembling slightly as she teased, “Only a kiss?”
Bucky smirked against her skin, hovering his lips near her ear. “Maybe more than just a kiss,” he rasped, low and full of promise, “but only if you wanted it too.”
She arched an eyebrow, curving her lips into a teasing smile. “Hmm, I dunno, Sergeant Barnes... things were done more properly back then, right? No sex before marriage, and all that stuff?”
He let out a low chuckle, his hand already inching higher up her thigh. “You’re absolutely right,” he agreed, his voice taking on a teasing edge. “I would've waited until our wedding night…” His hand slid beneath the fabric of her dress, fingers grazing the soft skin of her thigh. “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have thought about it. Every. Single. Day.” He leaned in again as he whispered. “How you’d look... how you’d feel... imagining all the ways I’d finally get to touch you.” His breath was warm against her skin, the words heavy with tension.
“Is that so?” she murmured, her fingers sliding up his chest, gripping his collar just enough to keep him close. “You think you could’ve waited?”
His hand tightened again on her thigh. “I would’ve tried... but I don’t think you would’ve made it easy.” Bucky’s playful tone faded into something more serious, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. “Would you have let me… let me have you like that?”
She swallowed, gripping his shirt tighter as she looked up into his eyes, feeling the pull of him in a way that left her defenseless. “I-” her voice faltered, but she managed to find her words. “Yeah, Bucky... I would’ve.”
Bucky’s metal hand, firm but tender, climbed from her waist tracing a slow, deliberate path up her spine. He then reached for the little buttons at the neckline of her dress, being both careful and bold as he unfastened them, one by one. Each undone button revealed more of her skin to his darkened gaze, and the way he looked at her made her feel exposed in a way that went beyond the physical. “I would’ve taken care of you,” he murmured, his lips brushing her collarbone. “Made sure no one else got close to you.”
Her body leaned instinctively toward him, craving the closeness as her free hand ran up his arm, tracing the firm muscles beneath his shirt. “No one else would’ve mattered,” she whispered.
With a swift, deliberate motion, the hand on her neckline slid down and snaked behind her, grasping her ass and pulling her fully into his lap. She gasped as her hips pressed against his, feeling exactly how much he wanted her. “Every night,” he growled, his voice rough with need, “I would’ve made sure you were mine.” His eyes were ablaze with raw desire as his grip tightened, holding her firmly against him.
Her pulse raced, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them and his mouth crashed into hers in a searing kiss. His other hand slid higher up her thigh, teasing the edge of her underwear, fingers brushing the soft skin. A soft moan escaped her lips, muffled by the kiss, and when he broke it, his lips found the curve of her neck.
“So only one kiss, huh?” she chuckled in a breathed tone, and her voice trembled with anticipation as her hips instinctively rocked against him.
Bucky inhaled deeply against her skin, trailing hot kisses down toward her chest. “Well, I would've kissed you every chance I got but believe me, that wouldn’t have been enough...” His words were thick with promise, his breath hot against her skin. He pressed his erection harder against her, slipping his hand between them, and tracing her slick heat over her underwear with his fingers. The breathless gasp that escaped her was all the encouragement he needed. “… that wouldn’t have been fucking enough.” he whispered against her skin, his voice low and filled with hunger, as his fingers moved with purpose, leaving no doubt about what he wanted.
She bit her lip, her voice soft but laced with playful intent as she fed into the fantasy they were weaving. “Well, if we had ourselves a little house with a white fence, I’d have waited for you to come home every day in a frilly apron,” her eyes locked onto his, a teasing smile tugging at her lips as she added, “with nothing underneath.”
The image she painted made Bucky’s breath hitch, and his grip tightened around her ass. His eyes nearly rolled back, with his imagination spiraling into wild possibilities. “Damn.” His voice was laced with lust. “If I could’ve had you waiting for me like that,” he murmured, his hand gripping her tighter, fingers digging into her skin as his restraint began to falter “I’d have come home early every damn day just to take advantage of you.” His lips brushed the swell of her breasts, the heat between them spiraling as his imagination ran wild, and he pulled her impossibly closer while teasing over her soaked panties.
Her gaze flicked from his lips back to his darkened eyes. “Oh yeah?” she challenged, her voice a sultry whisper. “Right there on the kitchen table?”
Bucky’s smirk deepened, the raw desire in his eyes nearly swallowing her whole. “Hell yes, right there on the kitchen table,” he growled, his vibranium hand gripping her ass harder, possessively. “I’d bend you over it, flip up that little apron, and bury myself inside you until you screamed my name for the whole damn neighborhood to hear.” He confessed without a hint of remorse or shame.
Her body reacted instantly, hips pressing hard against the teasing hand hovering over her clothed pussy. A soft whimper escaped her, almost desperate. His hand answered her need by slipping her panties aside, slowly sinking his fingers into her pussy, stretching her with deliberate, agonizing precision.
She let out a shaky breath, her playful tone faltering as her body betrayed her. “How kinky,” she managed to tease, biting her lip as she met his gaze, her voice barely steady under the growing pressure inside her.
Bucky inhaled sharply, savoring the way she responded, his hand moving with more purpose now. “Kinky enough to have you blushing for days,” he growled, his teeth grazing up to her jawline before dragging his lips slowly up to brush against hers. His fingers kept sliding deeper inside her with slow, deliberate strokes. “And when the milkman came the next morning…” The hand on her ass squeezed the supple skin harder, pulling her even close against him, while the other continued its relentless torment between her legs. “...you’d be so sore from the night before, you wouldn’t even be able to stand straight. Couldn’t look anyone in the eye without blushing, remembering just how loud you screamed.”
She moaned at his statement, totally immersed in the fantasy. “That sounds… so good, Buck.” She managed to say, her voice trembling with want. She bit her lip again, locking eyes with him and starting to ground herself shamelessly against his fingers, the pressure building quickly inside her. “But... would you only fuck me at the kitchen table when coming back? What about… other creative places? Like the back porch, under the shade of the bindweed?...”
Bucky's eyes closed as her suggestion sparked a flood of heated thoughts. “Hell, yes," he growled, his voice thick with desire. He pushed his fingers deeper inside her, and his thumb circled her swollen clit, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. “I’d lift that sexy little apron right up, spread your legs wide open, and fuck you right there under the bindweeds," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear, each word laced with promise. "And you'd moan my name, scream it, while everyone else thinks we’re just having a quiet afternoon tea."
The combination of his filthy words and the relentless pressure of his fingers sent her body trembling with anticipation, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. "Bucky…" she moaned softly, her hands tightening their grip on him, desperate for everything he was giving her. Her hips bucked uncontrollably against his hand, her breath hitching as his fingers curled inside her, hitting just the right spot and sending waves of pleasure radiating through her body. The pleasure built inside her, tightening, coiling until every nerve in her body felt alive.
He felt the signals and growled, moving faster now, each stroke deliberate and calculated as his forehead pressed against hers, his breath coming out in ragged bursts. “I’d had make sure no one could ever touch you the way I did,” he muttered, his voice low and possessive. "Every inch of you, mine." He punctuated the last words with hard, rhythmic rubs at one side of her clit and that was all she needed for the climax to hit her, a wave of intense pleasure crashing through her. Her moans turned into soft cries as she buried her face on his neck, her body trembling violently as his hand continued to work her through it, prolonging her ecstasy.
When her body came down from her high, Bucky slowly withdrew his fingers. Panting, she looked at his gaze and saw the raw, unbridled desire burning in his blue eyes. Without hesitation, she leaned in, her lips finding his stubbled jaw, trailing soft, hungry kisses down his neck, nipping and sucking against his skin while her hand wandered lower and lower on his abdomen, finally unbuttoning his pants with deliberate slowness, venturing inside his underwear.
The moment her fingers brushed against his cock, he tensed and groaned. “W-wait,” he rasped, his voice thick with need and restraint. His hand held hers firmly, keeping her from going further.
Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion, her lips still hovering near his neck. “Why?” she murmured, “I want to make you feel good too. You deserve it, Bucky,” she whispered, her words full of tenderness and desire.
Bucky let out a low, shaky breath with a hint of frustration. He knew he had to come clean. “I want it too, trust me,” he muttered, strained. “But it’s been so long... too long. If you touch me now…” He trailed off, swallowing hard, the unspoken words hanging in the air. “Let me lead,” he whispered. He leaned in to kiss her, deep and slow, pouring all the pent-up desire into the kiss.
She sighed softly, pulling back just enough to reach for the hem of her dress, slipping it over her head in one fluid motion. The fabric lifted away from her body, leaving her sitting in only her bra and panties as the dress was tossed to the side of the couch.
Bucky’s gaze darkened as he took her in, his hands instinctively roaming over her bare skin. But then he groaned again softly, almost painfully, pausing as his grip tightened around her waist. “What happened to let me lead?” he rasped; his voice was thick with restraint.
Her breath hitched at his words, and she parted her lips to respond with a half-hearted apology, but before she could, his hands were already sliding down her body, reclaiming control. His fingers traced her bra straps, slipping them off her shoulders with excruciating slowness. “I need to do it my way,” he murmured, his voice was a low growl as he leaned in, brushing her ear with his lips. “If you don’t behave... this ends before we even begin.”
The meaning of his earlier words hit her then. He wasn’t just leading to take his time with her; he was fighting to keep from losing control, from coming right there in his pants. Her teasing grin faltered, replaced with a softer expression. “Oh,” she whispered with understanding. “I didn’t realize…” Her fingers gently grazed his cheek, guilt creeping into her tone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you.”
Bucky tensed slightly at her touch, inwardly cursing himself for letting his vulnerability slip. His masculine pride stung. Great job, Barnes. Way to cool the mood. He forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers in an attempt to brush off the tension. “It’s alright,” he muttered, but the strain in his voice betrayed him. His fingers dug into her hips just a little, steadying himself. “I just... got worked up faster than I expected.” He exhaled shakily, trying to ease the tension. Then he started to move.
As his fingers worked at the clasp of her bra, his touch slow and deliberate, and he broke the silence with a low murmur, his voice thick with desire, yet laced with a hint of vulnerability. “You know… I liked you from the moment we bumped into each other on the stairs,” he confessed, meeting her gaze. “I still remember the way you looked at me, even after I knocked you off balance and grabbed your arm. No gloves, metal hand out in the open… but you didn’t flinch.”
When her bra fell away, his gaze dropped to her exposed breasts, and a low groan rumbled in his chest. His flesh hand cupped her gently, his thumb brushing over her nipple in a slow, teasing motion.
“I loved how your uniform looked on you then,” he continued, his tone growing huskier as his metal hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her closer. “I still do. Every time I see you in it, it makes it hard to focus on anything else.”
His thumb continued its slow teasing, but then his expression shifted, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. His voice dropped, a hint of regret slipping into his words. “I wish I’d asked you out sooner. The old me… he would've handled this better. Would’ve known exactly how to...”
She cut him off before he could finish, her fingers threading through his hair as she pulled him closer. “Stop,” she said firmly, her tone was soft but unwavering. “The moment of ‘what if’ has passed. I don't want the man you used to be, Bucky.” Her lips brushed against his jaw, her breath hot against his skin. “I want you. Not someone I never knew.”
He closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them fixing his gaze on hers. She wasn’t looking for the version of him with the effortless charm and swagger. She never did. She wanted him, baggage, scars, and everything else.
A slow, shaky breath escaped him, tightening his grip on her as a flicker of vulnerability passed through his eyes. “You don’t know how much that means,” he muttered, brushing his lips against her jaw, then down to her neck. His movements were soft at first, but as her hands gripped his shoulders, urging him on, the hesitation melted away.
His mouth found hers again, kissing her hard, moving his hands with more confidence again. “I’ve wanted this... you,” he rasped, his breath hot against her skin. “For so damn long.” She responded with a moan, her body arching into him as he took full control.
He groaned, unable to hold back any longer as the tension between them reached its peak. He gently shifted her off his lap, laying her down on the couch, his hands lingering on her hips for a moment before he stood. His breath was heavy, and though his chest tightened with familiar insecurities, especially about his arm, he pushed forward.
His fingers moved to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. As the fabric fell to the floor, his eyes darted to her face, half-expecting some flicker of hesitation or doubt. Instead, her gaze roamed over him, dark with desire as her eyes took in the hard lines of his chest. “Damn... you’re perfect.” Her voice came out breathly and soft. Swallowing hard, Bucky quickly slid his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, kicking them aside. Now fully bare before her, he stood there, chest rising and falling as her gaze lingered on him. He could see her eyes focused on his size, her lips parted as she let out a soft, breathless sound. The way she looked at him -no hesitation, only hunger- made his insecurities, the doubts about his scars, his arm, everything, to retract to a far corner of his mind.
Without a word, he climbed on top of her, positioning himself between her legs. His hands trailed down her sides, gripping her hips firmly as he pulled her closer. Slowly, he guided his cock to her slick entrance, teasing her folds as he coated his shaft with her wetness. A low, rumbling groan escaped his lips as he playfully rubbed the tip of his cock against her clit, the pressure sending jolts of pleasure through her body.
She reacted instantly, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she writhed beneath him. “Bucky…” she moaned softly, tilting up her hips toward him, aching for more.
He moved slowly, sliding inside her inch by inch, and paused as soon as he was fully sheathed, giving her a moment to adjust. Her body clenched tightly around him, a gasp escaping her lips as her nails dug into his shoulders. Her breath came in shallow, uneven bursts, the sensation of him filling her was completely overwhelming. The tight heat of her body had him teetering on the edge, but he held back, determined to give her time.
He pulled back slightly, then pushed forward again, slowly and deliberately, testing her response. Her breath hitched, and her thighs trembled around his hips with each thrust. She bit her lip, eyes fluttering shut as she struggled to find her breath.
“Fuck, Bucky,” she whispered breathlessly, her voice barely audible but heavy with surprise and awe. “You’re… big. I’ve never... God!”
Her words sparked something deep within him, the mixture of vulnerability and pleasure igniting a fire he could barely contain. A low growl rumbled in his throat as his control began to slip. His hands moved to the back of her thighs, gripping them firmly just beneath her knees, then in one swift motion, he lifted her legs, spreading her wider as he started to thrust deeper, hitting spots that made her eyes fly open, a strangled moan escaping her lips. “Bucky… oh my God,” she gasped, her voice trembling as she struggled to take all of him.
Encouraged by her reaction, Bucky picked up the pace, his thrusts growing harder and faster, losing himself in the haze of lust that overtook him. He pulled her thighs higher, spreading her wider, driving into her with relentless force. Each thrust was deeper and rougher, and her moans quickly turned into desperate, breathless cries of pleasure.
The sound of her moans, the way she cried out his name, only fueled him further. “You like that?” he growled, his voice low and ragged as he thrust into her again, deeper, harder. Her slick heat gripped him tighter with every movement, making his pulse race. “Look at me, Doll. You like it rough?”
Her body arched beneath him, her hands scrambling for something to hold onto as the intensity of his thrusts tore through her. “Yes! Bucky… fuck! Don’t stop,” she moaned, her voice breaking as he kept his relentless, punishing pace.
“Oh, I won’t stop,” he growled, pulling out of her with a slick sound, only to flip her over onto her stomach in one swift motion. His hands gripped her hips roughly, pulling her ass up and positioning her on all fours before she had time to catch her breath.
Before she could process the shift, Bucky slammed back into her, filling her completely. She gasped, her fingers clutching at the couch cushions as he drove into her from behind, his pace unrelenting. “Is this what you wanted?” he rasped, his flesh hand sliding up her back before grabbing a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back slightly as his hips pistoned against her, thrusting deep and hard.
She let out a scream of pleasure as he pounded into her. “Yes! Oh God, yes,” she cried, her voice hoarse, her body helpless under his rough control.
Bucky grunted with each powerful thrust, his grip on her hair tightening, his metal hand digging into her hip, guiding her back onto him. The angle allowed him to go even deeper, kissing her cervix with every push of his hips. Her moans only spurred him on, the rhythm of their bodies frantic and primal, skin slapping against skin.
He released her hair and grabbed both her hips, yanking her back onto his cock with force, losing himself in the haze of lust. “Come for me,” he growled, his hand coming down on her ass with a sharp smack, making her gasp.
Before she could recover, his hand slid between her legs, his fingers finding her clit. He circled it with firm, deliberate pressure, his voice rough as he leaned over her, thrusting deeper still. “I want you to come all over me, Doll.” The moment his fingers found her swollen nub, her body responded, hips bucking involuntarily as her breath hitched. The pressure building inside her hit its peak, and with a loud, desperate moan, she shattered beneath him, her body trembling violently as she came hard.
The feel of her tight, wet heat spasming around him was too much for Bucky to handle. He let out a guttural moan, his hips slamming into her as his own release took hold. “Fuck,” he growled, his voice ragged as his body tensed, and he came hard, spilling thick, hot spurts inside her. His hips jerked involuntarily with each wave of pleasure, the intensity of his orgasm hitting him harder than he’d expected. He gasped, his forehead falling to her back as he rode out the aftershocks, his cock pulsing inside her, still surrounded by the tight, wet heat of her body.
The sound of their heavy breathing filled the room, the intensity of their release left them trembling, bodies slick with sweat. Bucky stayed inside her for a moment longer, his fingers lazily circling her clit, drawing out her pleasure as her body continued to spasm beneath him. But as the haze of bliss began to fade, his mind started to catch up with his body, and a flicker of doubt crept in. Had he been… too much?
Slowly, he withdrew from her, and the cool air was a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies. His hand slid up to her shoulder, gentle, almost tentative. “Are you okay?” His tone was low and uncertain.
She turned her head slightly, pressing her cheek into the cushion as her hooded eyes found his. “I’m better than okay,” she murmured. “That was... perfect, Buck.”
He exhaled, feeling the tension in his body ease a little, but his mind refused to quiet. What if she was trying to play it cool after being on the receiving end of nearly 80 years of pent-up frustration?
Sensing his unease, she shifted, sitting up on the couch. Her hands cradled his face, gently brushing her thumbs against his skin. He looked almost miserable for someone who had, minutes ago, been nothing short of a god of intercourse.
“You didn’t hurt me, Bucky,” she said. “I meant it when I said it was perfect. Stop overthinking. It was the best I’ve ever had.” Her cheeks heated as she realized the weight of her words, but she didn’t back down. “I mean it,” she added, her voice softening as her gaze dropped for a moment. “It really was the best I’ve ever had.”
The tension in his body slowly began to melt away as he absorbed her words. His breathing steadied, and the storm of doubts in his mind started to quiet. He looked down, feeling a pang of guilt for letting his insecurities creep in precisely in that moment. Running a hand through his messy hair, he shook his head.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to ruin the moment. I just... I get in my head sometimes.”
She gave him a gentle smile, brushing her fingers on his scruffy cheek again. “You didn’t ruin anything, Bucky, not even close. If anything, the only thing you’ll have to atone for... is setting the bar pretty high.”
Bucky’s lips curved into a small, almost shy smile. He exhaled deeply, feeling the weight on his chest finally lift. Without saying anything, he reached up, gently cupping her cheek, brushing softly over her skin in a silent gesture of gratitude.
They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in the comfort of each other’s presence. The silence between them wasn’t empty; it was full of understanding, unspoken promises, and the certainty that, somehow, they were exactly where they were meant to be.
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Dividers by: @strangergraphics
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solxamber · 4 months ago
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Prologue: A Day Like No Other
This is the prologue for the 1k Event! It'll split into routes from here!
1k Masterlist
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When you woke up that morning, you expected an ordinary day—classes, Grim stealing food from your tray, and maybe an explosion or two courtesy of Ace and Deuce. What you didn’t expect was for nearly every boy in the entire school to suddenly decide, out of nowhere, that they wanted to ask you out.
Riddle Rosehearts
He corners you right after class, red as a lobster, clutching a rulebook in one hand like it’s his lifeline. "I… I thought you might like to attend a formal tea ceremony with me this weekend. You have excellent posture, and I believe we would engage in delightful conversation."
He clears his throat and adjusts his collar. "Of course, I’ll have a list of acceptable topics for us to discuss."
You stare at him. He's shaking slightly.
"...Is this a date?"
His ears turn crimson. "It is not—" He exhales deeply. "Yes, it is. Please say yes."
Trey Clover
Trey smiles warmly as he approaches you after club activities. "Hey, I made a batch of tarts, and I thought we could eat them together. Just us. I mean... It’d be nice to spend time with you. Alone."
He rubs the back of his neck, trying not to look embarrassed. "And if you’d like, I could teach you how to bake something... Maybe, uh, something sweet?"
Cater Diamond
Cater pops out of nowhere, phone already in hand and pointed at you. "Yooo! Wanna go on a date with me? We could take tons of selfies, make Vil jealous, and trend under #CoupleGoals."
You blink at him.
"And hey," he adds with a wink, "if we get along, maybe I’ll tag you in my socials. Exclusive content, you know?"
Ace Trappola
"Okay, look," Ace says, leaning casually against the wall. "I’m not saying you should pick me over, like, Leona or Malleus or whoever—but I’m way more fun than those guys. C’mon, let’s go out. I’ll buy you ice cream. Two scoops."
He wiggles his eyebrows. "You know you want to."
Deuce Spade
Deuce looks nervous but determined, like he’s psyching himself up for a boxing match. "I—I know I’m not the smoothest guy around, but I really like spending time with you! And if you’ll go out with me, I promise I’ll… I’ll be a perfect gentleman. Or at least, uh, I’ll try to be."
Leona Kingscholar
Leona, as usual, doesn’t even try to sugarcoat it. "Come nap with me."
"Is that your idea of a date?"
He shrugs. "You don’t seem like the type to want fancy dinners. This is less effort. Plus, I sleep better when you’re there."
Ruggie Bucchi
"Heyyyy," Ruggie grins, tugging on your sleeve. "How ‘bout you and me hit the town? I know a place that gives out free meals if you pretend to be engaged. C’mon, it’ll be fun!"
Jack Howl
Jack frowns, clearly struggling with the words. "I’m not great at this stuff, but... If you want, we could run together sometime? Or, uh, go on a walk?"
He glances away, ears twitching. "It’d be nice. With you."
Azul Ashengrotto
Azul adjusts his glasses, smiling like he’s just sealed the most important business deal of his life. "It would be an honor to escort you to a dinner at Mostro Lounge. Of course, all expenses will be covered. Consider it... an exclusive arrangement."
Jade Leech
Jade leans in just a little too close, that unsettling smile plastered on his face. "I believe we would have an interesting time exploring the woods together. Perhaps we’ll discover some mushrooms... or each other’s secrets?"
Floyd Leech
Floyd swings an arm over your shoulder, grinning ear to ear. "Oi, let’s go somewhere fun! If anyone bothers us, I’ll squish ‘em."
"Floyd, is this a date?"
"Obviously! Hehe, you're stuck with me now, Shrimpy."
Kalim Al-Asim
Kalim’s eyes sparkle with excitement. "Wanna come to a party? It’ll be huge! And afterward, we can ride my magic carpet under the stars!"
You barely have time to respond before he’s already planning an itinerary.
Jamil Viper
Jamil sighs, looking like he’s regretting this already. "If Kalim hasn’t dragged you off yet… would you like to grab lunch? Somewhere quiet, where I won’t have to babysit anyone."
Vil Schoenheit
Vil regards you with a calculating smile. "We could attend an opera together. Or a fashion show, if you prefer. You have potential, you know. I wouldn’t mind refining it."
Rook Hunt
"Ah, mon trésor!" Rook exclaims, dramatic as ever. "It would be a delight to hunt for beauty with you! A picnic in the forest, perhaps? Under the moonlight, where all things enchanting dwell."
Epel Felmier
Epel grins mischievously. "Wanna go smash stuff?"
"...That’s your idea of a date?"
"Yup." He winks. "You in or what?"
Idia Shroud
Idia looks like he’s on the verge of fainting. "So, uh... I-I heard there’s this new game releasing. M-maybe we could play it together? Or not. Forget I asked."
Before you can respond, Ortho pops up cheerfully. "Say yes! My brother’s been practicing this for weeks!"
Malleus Draconia
Malleus looms over you, an almost shy smile on his face. "I would be honored if you would accompany me on a stroll through the gardens. There are many things I wish to show you... and, perhaps, learn from you as well."
Lilia Vanrouge
Lilia grins, his fangs glinting in the light. "How about a little mischief together? We could visit an amusement park or play pranks on the first years. Either way, I guarantee it’ll be memorable!"
Silver
Silver, looking half-asleep, gives you a soft smile. "If you’d like, we could... I don’t know. Sit under a tree and talk. Or just... exist, I guess. As long as it’s with you."
Sebek Zigvolt
Sebek stands stiffly, as if on the verge of saluting. "I would like to take you to dinner! Not that it matters to me, of course! But it would be... logical for us to spend time together. As comrades!"
Rollo Flamme
Rollo catches you alone, adjusting his pristine cuffs with his usual air of seriousness. “I dislike crowds, so I will be brief,” he says, voice as even as his posture. “Would you like to accompany me to a quiet tea house? I find your company... less intolerable than most.”
You blink at him.
He clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “Consider it a date.” Then, after a pause, he quickly adds, “If you wish, of course.”
His ears are red, but he refuses to meet your gaze, determined to keep his dignity intact.
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And just like that, you find yourself drowning in invitations. Your phone buzzes with reminders from Ortho ("Don't forget to reply to my brother!") and Epel’s laughter rings in your ears. Ace and Deuce whisper ominously about Riddle’s wrath.
Leona, meanwhile, lazily waves from the other end of the hall. "Pick whoever you want. If it's not me, just don’t wake me up."
So...
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Who will it be?
1k Event Masterlist (Go here for routes)
Main Masterlist
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clockwayswrites · 6 months ago
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Oh Birb Part 11
Masterpost
Next Thursday. Alright, Danny could do next Thursday. He still didn’t know how he had gotten invited to Cassandra Wayne’s dance recital, but sure enough there was a link to a ticket and the event information in his email the next morning.
He was just checking in on work real quickly before he left for the Far Frozen. Or maybe he was putting off the trip for as long as he could. Danny knew that he had to go see Frostbite, but he was afraid of what answers the yeti might have. Or, worse, the answers that Frostbite didn’t have.
Danny didn’t know what would really be worse.
‘You are on vacation, Mr. Fenton.’ Popped up in Danny’s Slack and he rolled his eyes. Of course Lucius was keeping an eye on him.
‘Just checking on things before I leave.’ Danny replied. ‘I’ll be off for the next five days, promise.’
‘That better be true.’
He would have much choice, his current phone wouldn’t work in the zone.
Danny refreshed his inbox one last time before he turned his tablet off and tucked away in the basket next to the couch. Fridge emptied of anything that would spoil, trash taken out, far too many plants watered… Danny was out of excuses.
“Going ghost,” he grumbled with a sigh. He didn’t really need to say that part out loud anymore, not after all these years, but sometimes it just made it easier. A sense of bitter, binding cold washed over him. It was like breathing ice. The shards stabbed at his lungs, choked his air, killed him— and then it was gone. It was all gone. His breath, his heart beat, the pull of gravity, the ache in his bones… his life.
Danny breathed out a breath he didn’t have and let himself drift up a few inches into the air. At least he didn’t hurt. For now. Returning to his body after this trip was going to be miserable. That was a later him problem, right then Danny just enjoyed being weightless. He breathed in and out, letting his body relax from the top of his head to his toes and all the way out to the tips of his wings.
Wait. His what now?
Danny’s fit hit the ground hard. He scrambled his way over to the long mirror titled against the wall by the door. And froze.
Wings.
Those were… those were wings.
Massive black wings with spots of white on the outside and more white on the inside. There was a slightly iridescent sheen to them as he twisted and turned to try and get a look at them.
They were. He had… okay. He had wings as Phantom now. Wings that were definitely like he had seen in the videos when he was that bird thing. Danny ran his fingers over his face, wincing as his finger tips caught a little. His taloned fingertips. That’s great he was turning into a bird.
Cheep cheep, motherfucker, Danny thought hysterically.
He had been expecting a midlife crisis as he approached forty, but turning into a bird wasn’t how he thought it would go!
He needed to get to the Far Frozen. He needed answers. He needed Frostbite to have answers. Focusing on the concept of the Far Frozen, Danny dragged a clawed finger through the air, tearing a hole in reality.
The portal glowed a noxious green.
Danny took a breath and flew through it.
---
AN: I polled the HH discord if Phantom should have wings or not and it was unanimously 'yes' so! Poor Danny, having such a panic!
Can you believe we're up to 4 chapters now for this silliness?
Stay delightful, darlings.
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tootiecakes234 · 1 year ago
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“Hey Katsuki”, you scream from the your bedroom.
“What” he yells back at you from somewhere else in the house.
“Where ya at?”
“In the game room.”
So you get up and head that way. When you enter he’s sat in his gaming chair with his headset on.
“Hey bub…. Hey guys” you say loud enough to be heard through his headset.
“Yea yea. They all said hey.” You knew Kirishima and Kaminari were on the other end. Maybe even Mina too cuz she wasn’t texting you back.
“Kit-Kat, I’m getting hungry. Do you know what sounds really good for dinner?”
“What?” he questions without taking his eyes off the screen.
You walk behind him and slide your arms around his neck and nuzzle into the back of his head. You’re trying to butter him up because you know he’s not gonna wanna make what you’re craving.
“You remember those dumplings you made from scratch a while ago?” You ask with your voice dripping in as much sweetness you can muster.
“No.”
“No you don’t remember or no you’re-“
And he interrupt you before you can even finish. “No im not cooking that. There are frozen dumplings in the fridge.”
“But Sukiiiiii, those aren’t as good as the ones you make. The flavors aren’t the same and yours are so crispy and doughy. Pleaaasseee.”
“Hey you assholes shut the hell up. No ones talking to you.” He responds to his friends in the headset. “You want her to have ‘em, bring your ass over and make ‘em”
“I’m not doing this. You idiots hold on.” And he pauses the game and turns around to face you and removes his head set.
“Look we can order takeout if you want, but I’m not about to make freakin dumplings from scratch cuz you have a craving. I’d have to go to the store and get ingredients and taking the time to make the wrappings. ‘S too much.” He tries to explain to you in a rational way .
“I knooowww…. I’d go to the store with you though and I’ll help you make them…. Pretty please” you whine and stick you lowere lip out just a little with your eyes as pleading as you can make them.
Katsuki rolls his eyes and throws his head back.
“You don’t get whatever you want just because you pout at me. Spoiled ass. Not today. Maybe sometime later this week.”
You didn’t actually think he’d tell you no. He usually never does. Maybe you are spoiled. Still makes you sad though.
So you put on your big girl pants, tuck your lip back in and give him a soft “ok” before you lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips so he knows you’re not upset with him.
He is allowed to say no.
“Is Mina on the game with you guys?” You ask him when you pull back.
“Yeah she is.”
“When you get back on can you tell her to stop being a bitch and answer my phone call. I have tea to spill.”
“I’ll tell her.”
And with that you head toward the door and leave.
Once you’re back in your room it takes Mina about 3 minutes to call you and you start catching her up on everything.
You guys stay on the phone for about 30 minutes before she has to go.
After that, you bury yourself in the blankets and start reading the manga you had lying on your nightstand.
Before you can really get into it, Katsuki is walking into your room and going into the closet.
“Get your ass outta bed and get dressed before I change my goddamn mind.”
“What?” You ask because now you’re confused.
“You said you were gonna go to the store with me to buy all this shit so get your ass up and let’s go.”
“Kats you don’t have to, it’s fine.”
“Look ya spoiled brat, if I gotta tell you to get up one more time we are gonna be in here fightin.”
And the smile that breaks out on your face. You hurry and get outta bed and rush him. “Awwwww my sweet boy”
“I swear to god, I’m this close to letting your ass starve.”
And you wrap your arms around him and start kissing everywhere on his face. When you pulled away he has a deep frown on his face but you can see the sparkle in his eyes that he gets when you’re super happy.
You pull away and scurry off to get dressed.
He really needs to start saying no to you and meaning it before you really lose the understanding of the word.
Katsuki Masterlist
Tags: @dreamcastgirl99
*if you want to be added to the tag list, let me know💕
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s4kura-tr3 · 1 month ago
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Could you make a crybaby reader with JJK men? Like just an overly sensitive/nice reader? It’s okay if not! Have a good day!
Sensitive!
Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Megumi, Yuji
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Gojo Satoru
Gojo Satoru never meant to upset you—he rarely ever did. But today, his usual playful teasing hit you harder than usual.
You were sitting on the couch together, scrolling through your phone while he flipped lazily through the channels on the TV. Out of nowhere, Gojo chuckled and said, “You know, you’re so dramatic sometimes. It’s kinda cute, but it’s like everything’s the end of the world for you.”
You froze, his words hitting a nerve. Dramatic. That’s how people had dismissed your feelings for years. You tried to brush it off, but your chest tightened, and your vision blurred slightly as you blinked back tears.
Gojo didn’t notice at first, still flipping channels and humming to himself. But when you didn’t respond with your usual witty comeback, he glanced over and saw your downturned face.
“Wait,” he said, sitting up immediately. “Did I say something wrong?”
You didn’t answer right away, biting your lip to keep your emotions in check.
“Hey,” he said more gently now, setting the remote down. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”
Finally, you looked at him, your voice quiet. “You called me dramatic. Do you know how many times I’ve heard that? It’s like every time I feel something, people just… dismiss me.”
Gojo’s eyes widened as realization dawned on him. “Oh no. No, no, no, that’s not what I meant,” he said, scooting closer to you on the couch. “I wasn’t trying to dismiss you. I swear, I just—ugh, sometimes I don’t think before I speak.”
You didn’t reply, still feeling the sting of his words.
Gojo reached for your hands, holding them in his warm, large ones. “I’m really sorry,” he said softly. “You’re not dramatic. You just feel things deeply, and I love that about you. It’s one of my favorite things about you, actually. You care so much, and that’s rare. Honestly, I wish I was more like you sometimes.”
You glanced at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice.
“I mean it,” he continued. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that wasn’t a good thing. It is. You’re amazing, and I’m lucky you put up with my dumb jokes.”
A small smile tugged at your lips, despite your lingering hurt. “You really think that?”
Gojo grinned, his usual playful energy returning as he kissed your knuckles. “I think you’re perfect. And I’m perfectly terrible at saying things the right way. Forgive me?”
You sighed, the weight in your chest easing. “Okay. But maybe think before you speak next time?”
“Deal,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll even let you pick the movie tonight as a peace offering. But only if it’s not boring.”
You laughed softly, and just like that, Gojo had you smiling again, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close.
Geto Suguru
It was late in the evening, and you and Geto Suguru were sitting together in a cozy café. He had insisted on taking you out to unwind after a long week, and for a while, the warm atmosphere and his gentle company had done just that. But then, the conversation took an unexpected turn.
You were talking about a project you’d been working on—how much effort you’d put into it and how nervous you were about how it would turn out. Somewhere in the middle of your rambling, Geto chuckled softly and said, “You really overthink things sometimes, don’t you?”
His tone was light, and you knew he didn’t mean it maliciously, but the comment stopped you in your tracks. Your heart sank, and your chest tightened as those familiar insecurities reared their heads. You looked down at your tea, your appetite for conversation disappearing.
Geto immediately noticed the shift in your mood. He tilted his head, his dark eyes softening with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently, leaning closer.
You shook your head. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s clearly not nothing,” he said, his voice calm but insistent. “Did I say something wrong?”
You hesitated, but his steady gaze encouraged you to speak. “It’s just… when you said I overthink things. I know I do, okay? I hear it all the time, and I hate that about myself. It feels like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough, and people just see me as… too much.”
Geto’s expression shifted immediately, a flicker of regret crossing his face. “Hey, no, that’s not what I meant at all,” he said softly, his voice full of sincerity.
You looked away, but he gently reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours. “Listen to me,” he said, his tone warm and steady. “I wasn’t trying to say that in a bad way. I know you overthink because you care. You care so much about everything, and that’s not a flaw—it’s a strength.”
You blinked at him, his words catching you off guard.
“You put your whole heart into what you do, and yeah, sometimes it makes you nervous or unsure, but that’s only because you want things to be perfect,” he continued. “And honestly? That’s one of the things I admire most about you. I could never think of that as a bad thing.”
The tightness in your chest began to ease as his words sank in. “You really mean that?” you asked softly.
Geto smiled gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Of course I do. And I’m sorry if what I said made you feel like I didn’t. I’ll be more careful with my words next time.”
You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Thank you.”
He chuckled softly. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s my job to remind you how amazing you are when you forget.”
Your cheeks warmed at his words, and the tension that had settled between you melted away.
“Now,” he said, his tone lightening as he leaned back in his chair, “how about I make it up to you with dessert? I hear they’ve got a mean matcha cheesecake here.”
You laughed quietly, shaking your head. “Fine, but you’re paying.”
“Always,” he said with a playful smirk, raising his hand to call for the waiter.
Nanami Kento
Nanami Kento had had an exhausting day. Every step he took up the stairs to your shared apartment felt heavier than the last, and all he wanted was to come home, see you, and let the warmth of your presence melt away the stress.
When he opened the door, you greeted him with your usual enthusiasm, rushing over to pull him into a tight hug. “Kento! You’re home!” you exclaimed, your excitement practically radiating off you.
He managed a small smile and placed a hand on your back, but the weight of his day still hung over him. “Hi,” he said softly, his voice tired.
You didn’t seem to notice his exhaustion as you began talking a mile a minute. “I missed you! You won’t believe the day I had—oh, and guess what? I tried that recipe you love, and I think it turned out amazing! Oh, and Louis did the funniest thing today—”
“Can you give me a second?” he snapped, his voice sharper than he intended.
The room fell silent, and the warmth in your expression dimmed instantly. You stepped back, your arms falling to your sides. “Oh,” you said softly. “Sorry.”
Nanami immediately felt a pang of regret as he saw the hurt in your eyes. You weren’t upset because he was tired—you were upset because he’d made you feel like your excitement didn’t matter to him.
You turned away, mumbling something about letting him settle in, but he quickly reached out and gently grabbed your hand. “Wait,” he said, his voice softer now.
You hesitated, looking at him but avoiding his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, his grip on your hand firm but gentle. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s not your fault I had a hard day. I… I was looking forward to seeing you all day, and then I let my frustration get in the way.”
You blinked, your lips trembling slightly. “I just wanted to make you happy,” you admitted quietly.
“And you do,” he said immediately, stepping closer to you. “You’re the best part of my day. Always.”
Your eyes met his then, searching his face for the truth in his words. His expression was soft, full of remorse and affection.
“I don’t deserve to have you greet me with so much love after the way I acted,” he said, gently pulling you into his arms. “But I promise I’ll do better. You’re everything to me, and I should have treated you like it.”
You rested your forehead against his chest, feeling his arms tighten around you. “I just got too excited,” you murmured.
“And I love that about you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Your excitement, your energy—it’s what makes this place feel like home. I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate it like I should’ve.”
For a moment, you stood there in his embrace, his warmth and steady heartbeat easing the lingering hurt.
“Do you want to sit down and tell me about your day?” he asked after a moment, pulling back slightly to look at you. “I want to hear everything.”
You hesitated, then nodded, a small smile creeping onto your face. “Okay. But only if you let me heat up dinner for you first.”
He chuckled softly. “Deal. But don’t rush—just being here with you is enough.”
And as you led him to the table, the weight of his day began to lift, replaced by the comfort of knowing he was home—with you.
Toji fushiguro
Toji Fushiguro wasn’t the type to watch his words. His bluntness was just part of who he was—sharp, quick, and sometimes careless. Most of the time, you brushed it off, knowing he didn’t mean to hurt you. But tonight, it cut deeper than usual.
The two of you were in the kitchen after dinner. You were putting away dishes, humming softly, while Toji leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, watching you.
“I’ve been thinking about trying something new,” you said, your tone excited. “Like a cooking class or maybe painting—something creative. I think it could be fun.”
Toji grunted in response, not looking up from the dish he was drying.
You hesitated but kept going, trying to draw him into the conversation. “What do you think? Would you want to try something like that with me?”
Toji sighed and set the dish down a little too hard, the sound making you flinch. “You don’t stick with stuff like that, do you?” he said, his voice flat. “You get all excited and then drop it a week later. What’s the point?”
You froze, his words hitting harder than you expected. You knew he had a point—sometimes you did lose interest in things quickly. But hearing him say it so bluntly, so dismissively, made your chest tighten.
“I…” Your voice wavered as you set the plate in your hands on the counter. “I just thought it’d be nice to do something together.”
Toji finally looked up, his brows furrowing when he saw the way your shoulders slumped. “Hey, don’t get all upset about it,” he said, his tone softening, but it didn’t help.
“I’m not upset,” you said quickly, though the slight tremble in your voice betrayed you. “I just… never mind.”
You turned away, trying to hide the tears that were already welling up, but Toji wasn’t one to let things go.
“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter now as he stepped closer. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing,” you mumbled, but when you tried to brush past him, he caught your wrist gently.
“Look at me,” he said firmly, his tone still low but insistent. You hesitated, and when you finally met his gaze, he could see the hurt in your eyes.
“Damn it,” he muttered, his grip on your wrist loosening. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“You didn’t have to say it at all,” you whispered. “You make me feel like I’m… not good at anything.”
Toji’s jaw tightened, guilt flashing across his face. He wasn’t good at this—at saying the right things or fixing mistakes—but he hated seeing you like this, especially when he was the one who caused it.
“You’re good at plenty of things,” he said, his tone softer now. “And… I’m an idiot for saying that to you. I wasn’t trying to put you down. I just… I don’t know how to say things without sounding like a jerk sometimes.”
You glanced at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice.
“I think it’s a great idea,” he admitted after a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. “The cooking class or whatever. And I’d do it with you if that’s what you want.”
“You don’t have to just say that,” you murmured.
“I’m not just saying it,” he said, stepping closer until he could wrap his arms around you. “You’re trying to do something fun, and instead of supporting you, I ran my mouth like an idiot. I’m sorry.”
His arms around you were warm and steady, and you could feel the sincerity in the way he held you.
“You’d really go with me?” you asked, your voice still small.
“Yeah,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Even if I suck at it, I’d go. For you.”
Your lips quirked up into a small smile, the sting of his earlier words starting to fade. “Okay,” you said softly, leaning into his chest.
Toji smirked, holding you a little tighter. “Good. But don’t expect me to wear an apron or anything. That’s where I draw the line.”
You laughed, the sound lightening the room, and he sighed in relief, grateful to see your smile again.
Sukuna Ryomen
The Heian era was a time of beauty and chaos, and life with Sukuna Ryomen was no exception. Known as the King of Curses, Sukuna was feared across the land, but to you, he was something else entirely. His presence, though intimidating, had always been a source of strange comfort. However, his sharp tongue often betrayed him, and tonight was one of those nights.
You had spent the entire day crafting something special—a delicate embroidered cloth featuring patterns of crimson and gold, colors you knew he favored. Each stitch was precise, your fingers aching by the time you finished, but the thought of presenting it to Sukuna filled you with anticipation.
When you brought the finished piece to him that evening, you entered his chambers with cautious excitement, kneeling before him as he sat on his throne-like dais. “My lord,” you began softly, holding out the cloth, “I made this for you. I thought you might like it.”
Sukuna’s four crimson eyes flicked to the offering, and for a brief moment, there was silence. Then he spoke, his tone as sharp as ever.
“You spent all day on this?” he said, his voice laced with disdain. “What use do I have for something so… trivial?”
The words hit you harder than you anticipated. You had poured your heart into the gift, hoping to please him, and now your efforts felt meaningless. You lowered your hands, clutching the cloth tightly as your vision blurred with tears you desperately tried to hold back.
“I… I just wanted to give you something,” you murmured, your voice trembling.
Sukuna’s brows furrowed at the shift in your tone. He could sense your emotions as clearly as the tension in the air, and the sight of you so visibly upset stirred something in him—something he wasn’t used to feeling.
“Tch,” he muttered, leaning forward slightly, his gaze fixed on you. “Why are you crying? I didn’t tell you to do something like this.”
You shook your head, your voice breaking. “I know. I just… I thought it would make you happy.”
Sukuna let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t good at this—at softening his edges. But seeing you like this unsettled him in a way that battles and curses never could
“Look at me,” he commanded, his tone firm but quieter now.
Reluctantly, you raised your eyes to meet his. His gaze wasn’t as harsh as before, and for a moment, the room felt less heavy.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “I’m not good with… things like this.” He gestured vaguely at the cloth in your hands. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it.”
Your breath hitched slightly. “You… you do?”
“Yes,” he said, almost impatiently, but his tone lacked its usual edge. “I’m just not someone who knows how to handle… thoughtful gestures. But that doesn’t mean they’re wasted on me.”
You blinked, the sting of his earlier words starting to fade. “I just wanted to give you something that reminded you of… us. Of me.”
Sukuna’s lips quirked into the faintest smirk. “And you think I could forget you?”
Your cheeks warmed at his words, and he chuckled lowly, clearly pleased with your reaction. He reached out, taking the cloth from your hands, his fingers brushing yours briefly.
“It’s well-made,” he admitted, running his thumb over the intricate stitching. “Better than I expected.”
A small smile tugged at your lips, and Sukuna leaned back, his gaze softening just slightly. “Next time, don’t exhaust yourself for my sake,” he said. “You don’t need to prove anything to me.”
“I just wanted to make you happy,” you said softly, your earlier sadness melting away.
“You do,” he replied, his voice quiet but steady. “Even without this.”
The warmth in his words made your heart ache in the best way, and as he set the cloth aside carefully, you knew that, in his own way, Sukuna was trying.
Megumi Fushiguro
Megumi Fushiguro was in a foul mood. Gojo had been pestering him all day—constant teasing, unnecessary tasks, and endless comments that pushed his patience to the brink. By the time he walked through the door, his mind was racing, and he felt like he was ready to snap at anything that moved.
You had been waiting for him to come home, your excitement bubbling as you thought about sharing the small surprise you’d planned for him: his favorite snacks arranged neatly on the coffee table and a cozy spot on the couch waiting for him to relax.
When he walked in, you greeted him with a bright smile. “Megumi! Welcome home! I set up—”
“Can you just give me a second?” he snapped, not even looking up as he kicked off his shoes and dropped his bag with more force than necessary.
You froze, startled by the sharpness of his tone. “Oh… I didn’t mean to bother you,” you said softly, your voice already trembling slightly.
Megumi sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not about you, okay? I just need some space.”
Your chest tightened at his words. He didn’t even glance at the effort you’d put into making his evening better. The snacks, the cozy setup—it all felt meaningless now. “I just wanted to help,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you turned away, your shoulders slumping.
The sound of your soft, hurt tone stopped Megumi in his tracks. He looked up and finally noticed the care you’d put into the room—the snacks, the cozy setting, and the clear effort to make him feel better. Guilt hit him like a wave.
“Wait,” he said, his voice gentler now as he stepped closer to you. “I… I’m sorry.”
You didn’t turn to face him, your hands nervously fiddling with your sleeves. “It’s fine,” you said, though the crack in your voice betrayed your true feelings.
“It’s not fine,” Megumi said, his tone firm but remorseful. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You didn’t deserve that.”
You glanced back at him, your eyes glistening. “I was just trying to make you feel better,” you murmured, “but if you don’t want me here, I can—”
“No,” he cut in quickly, shaking his head. “I don’t want you to leave. Please.”
He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “It’s been a rough day, and I let my frustration get the better of me. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You were trying to do something nice for me, and I acted like an idiot.”
You stared at him for a moment, his rare vulnerability catching you off guard. “You mean that?”
“I do,” he said, stepping closer and gently taking your hand. “I see what you did here. It’s thoughtful, and it means a lot to me. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”
Your lips trembled as a small smile broke through. “I just wanted you to relax after your day.”
“And I’m lucky to have you,” he said, squeezing your hand gently. “Let me make it up to you.”
You hesitated before nodding, letting him guide you to the couch. As the two of you sat together, Megumi reached for one of the snacks you’d prepared, a small but genuine smile tugging at his lips.
“Thank you,” he said softly, glancing at you.
“For what?” you asked, tilting your head.
“For being patient with me,” he said. “And for always knowing how to make things better—even when I don’t deserve it.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned against him, letting the tension of the evening fade away. Megumi might not always get it right, but moments like this reminded you why you loved him so much.
Yuji Itadori
Yuji Itadori wasn’t the type to snap at people—he was always upbeat, kind, and quick to laugh things off. But after a long day of missions, training, and dealing with the stress of being Sukuna’s vessel, he’d finally managed to steal a rare moment of relaxation, engrossed in a video game he’d been trying to beat for weeks.
You, excited to share some news with him, entered the room without realizing how deeply focused he was. “Yuji! Guess what happened today?” you said cheerfully, walking over to him.
“Not now,” he muttered, his eyes glued to the screen, fingers flying across the controller.
You hesitated, unsure if he’d heard you properly. “It’ll only take a second! You won’t believe—”
“I said not now!” he snapped, his tone sharper than you’d ever heard before.
The sudden harshness of his voice made you stop in your tracks. Your excitement vanished, replaced with a sinking feeling in your chest. You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say, before mumbling, “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to bother you.”
Your voice was so soft, Yuji almost didn’t catch it. But when he heard the hurt in your tone and turned to see the way your expression had fallen, his stomach twisted with guilt.
“Wait, no, I didn’t mean—” he started, but you were already backing away. “I’ll just… leave you alone,” you said quietly, heading toward the door.
Yuji quickly paused the game and jumped to his feet. “Wait! Don’t go!”
You stopped but didn’t turn around, your arms crossed tightly as if trying to protect yourself from the sting of his words.
Yuji rubbed the back of his neck, his face filled with regret. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice softer now. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. That was really uncool of me.”
You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I just wanted to tell you something. I didn’t think it would make you so mad…”
“I wasn’t mad at you,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “I was just so caught up in the game, and I got frustrated. But that’s not an excuse. You didn’t deserve that.”
You bit your lip, unsure if you should say anything, and Yuji reached out, gently touching your arm. “Hey,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. “I’m really, really sorry. You’re way more important to me than some stupid game.”
His words made your heart ache in the best way, and you finally turned to face him fully. “You mean that?”
“Of course I do,” he said, giving you that familiar, boyish grin that made it hard to stay upset. “Tell me what happened today. I want to hear everything.”
“You’re sure? I don’t want to interrupt…” you trailed off.
Yuji shook his head quickly. “Forget the game. I want to spend time with you.”
The sincerity in his voice melted away the last of your hurt, and you let yourself smile again. As you started sharing your story, Yuji sat beside you, listening intently, determined to make up for his mistake.
And when you laughed at one of his playful comments, Yuji silently promised himself to never let a moment like that happen again. You were his safe place, his reason to smile, and no game—or anything else—could ever compare.
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