#the entire pop up book scene

[thelowcalcalzonezone]

THE BEAR?? THE LITTLE BEAR?? HE IS SO SWEET ??? HE JUST ACCEPTED DEATH ???? HE REACHED OUT HIS LITTLE PAW TO SAY HE KNEW IT WAS OVER AND HE WAS OK WITH IT BC HE DID WHAT HE COULD AND HE WAS WITH HIS FAMILY??? IM CRYING????

[withlovemark]

“FLYING KISS”

pairing: childhood best friend! lee jeno x nerd! reader | genre: rom-com | words: 23k+

synopsis -> you and lee jeno go way back, as in diapers and all that. before he was known as the chill fuckboy, he was an all time nerd! just like you! tired of being a loser who can’t even get the guy you wanted, you badly needed tips and a makeover. who’s better to ask for help than your childhood best friend, who has proven that a nerd can be hot?

warnings -> guaranteed giddiness! pet name unlocked: bunny, two dumb idiots, jeno is a yearner!!!, slow burn? kinda but once it starts, it starts, mentions of: car crash, a deceased parent, too many side characters from other groups, +18, crude language, mentions of fuck-boys, parties, drinking, a fight between the boys, blood, a nasty cut, heavy on the smut! reader is a virgin, lots of fingering, oral (m+f), handjob, blowjob, mention of mutual masturbation, corruption kink, pop the cherry!, soft sex, exhibitionism, jeno is a dirty dirty boy with lots of dirty thoughts and a dirty mouth.

an -> the second installment of the loverboy series is yours! this one literally just flowed through me, i could not stop writing, squealing and giggling at this trope. i’m dreading leaving them behind. you do not need to read stupid cupid to understand this story but here are some important things to take note of: 1) jeno is the chill fuckboy, he does not like the whole hopping to one girl to another thing so he gets into a lot of meaningless situationships with girls he does not care about 2) jaemin is currently the only happily taken member of the dream fraternity, he calls his gf: angel. k, have fun reading, with love, c!

the library buzzed with the soft hum of university life filled with quiet chatter, the occasional laugh and the rustling of pages. there were small groups of friends in heated discussions, catching up on life or laughing over a joke. some were hunched over textbooks, deep in concentration, others were lost in their books, barely blinking, while a few had surrendered to sleep, heads resting on their arms. and, tucked away in the back, were the ones who thought they were subtle – furtive glances, sneaky touches, stolen kisses.

there was a place for everyone in the library and it was your favorite place in the entire world.

but right now, as you watch your long-time crush, third year business major, the soccer team’s mvp, jung sungchan, stick his tongue down a random girl’s throat, you can’t help but feel like your safe haven has been tainted.

the grip you had on your pencil tightens as your eyebrows furrowed at the scene that played out, jealousy taking over your features. out of all the places on campus, he had to choose your spot. you have half the mind to report to the librarian. you were already classified as the school’s nerd, why not add snitch to your dictionary?

“what’s that look on your face?,” your best friend’s voice pulled you back to earth, playful, as he plopped down on the seat next to you.

jeno has been fated to be your best friend way before you were even born. with your dad’s being the best of friends, it was written in the stars, whether you liked it or not.

but you liked it, and so did he.

if it wasn’t for jeno, you might have ended up a complete social outcast. thanks to his status and the fact that you were always seen together, people decided you were tolerably weird. you weren’t nose-picking weird or talking to yourself in the hallways weird, just…a little awkward.

and if it wasn’t for you, jeno probably wouldn't have made it into university to begin with. you tutored him in almost every class, every time he struggled with anything school related, he ran to you, from elementary school to university, you were practically his teacher.

they say university is supposed to be the place where you let go of your childhood self and finally grow up. yet here you are now, a third year student and you still haven't quite grown into the lady you were supposed to be. trends went over your head, fashion didn’t interest you and makeup was harder than your architect class. half your wardrobe was made up of high school leftovers, you were still sporting bangs that you had from middle school and you never really saw the point in “fixing yourself up.”

at least, one of you did — jeno somehow made his way into the dream fraternity and somehow earned the title the chill fuckboy. it was odd, seeing people start treating him differently. even odder when you started to see girl’s eyes follow him like he was some kind of lead in a main k-drama and then land on you with a confused gaze. like they couldn’t understand why he was friends with someone like you.

“nothing,” you say quickly, finally tearing your eyes away from sungchan and forcing your attention on the assignment in front of you.

jeno, not satisfied with your answer, followed your earlier gaze, a light chuckle slipping past his lips, “aww, does my little bunny wunny have a crush?,” he cooed, reaching over to pinch your cheek, his trademark eye smile on display.

bunny was the nickname he had given you when you both were eight years old. in some twisted doom, like you were always going to be life’s punching bag, all your baby teeth fell out at the same time, leaving only the two front teeth behind. these days, he throws in a ridiculous wunny at the end just to piss you off.

“shut up jeno,” you scowl, swatting his hand away and adjusting your glasses back into place.

he chuckles, unfazed, before pulling out his own assignments and settling in beside you. a comfortable silence draping over the two of you, easy and familiar.

but your mind was still reeling. you wanted, so badly, to be the girl who was kissing sungchan instead of the nerd he only acknowledged when he needed answers for a test. you wanted to hold his hand, to walk around campus with him, to be the one sitting in the back of the library.

you wanted to be the girl that people wanted to be.

your gaze drifts to your best friend. jeno hadn’t always been this effortlessly put-together, with his hair perfectly styled, clothes fitting him properly, and those annoying sculpted arms that somehow always had a girl clinging to them.

you’re reminded of a different version of him – the times when you had matching glasses, his head way too big for his body, the endless rotation of naruto and pokemon t-shirts he always had on and the way he would stutter every time a pretty girl would even look at his direction.

if he could grow into the handsome, confident man he is now, why couldn’t you?

and then, just like that, a lightbulb flickers on.

“...neno,” you call out to him, sweetly.

jeno eyes you with immediate suspicion, you only use that nickname when you want something from him, “what?,” he asks, an eyebrow raised.

“we’re best friends, right?,” you ask, innocently blinking up at him.

“is the sky blue???,” he shoots back, voice dripping with playful sarcasm. you ignore it, too caught up in the plan buzzing in your head.

“so, as my best friend, you’d do anything for me, right?,” you press, excitement coursing through.

he narrows his eyes, “that depends on what you’re about to ask from me,” he says, looking at you with a mixture of suspicion and mild horror.

“make me hot,” you say, dead serious.

jeno chokes on absolutely nothing, eyes going wide as the words hit him, “what?!.” he hisses, half-whisper, half-scream, as if you just confessed to a felony. a few heads turned your way and you can’t help but blush under the sudden attention.

“you’re so dramatic!,” you whisper, shrinking behind your books. all your previous confidence, going down the drain as you finally realized what you just asked him to do.

jeno charmingly waves, muttering his apologies until the curious stares faded and the library’s usual hush returned.

“y/n,” he said, suddenly serious, gaze locked on you, “what do you mean by ‘make you hot’?” his entire focus on you.

you sigh, heat crawling up your neck, “nevermind, jeno, it’s nothing,” you say, grabbing the nearest book, hoping to bury this conversation along with your pride.

before you could turn a page, jeno snatches it away from you, “hey, no secrets between us remember,” he said, gently but firmly.

you stared at the table, lips pressed into a thin line, weighing the embarrassment against the aching truth in your chest, “i just meant…help me be desirable, i’m tired of being a nerd, jeno. i just want someone to look at me and think i’m pretty,” you admit, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

“i think you’re pretty, bunny,” he says quietly.

you groaned, immediately burying your face in your hands. this was too embarrassing. you felt like you were fishing for compliments.

“ugh, you’re only saying that because you’re my best friend and our dads will literally kill you if you don’t,” you say, voice muffled by the table below you.

jeno chuckles lightly beside you, “i’m not just saying that.”

you sit back up slowly, looking him dead in the eye, “jeno, i’ve never been asked out, never held hands with someone, hell, i’ve never even kissed anyone,” you reason, head plopping back into your chair.

“—that’s not true!, you’ve kissed me,” he points out earning an eye roll from you.

“jeno we were 14 and i kissed you like how i would kiss my mom,” you say, “it doesn’t count,” you shut your eyes, silently begging the universe to erase this entire moment from existence.

but your words lingered in jeno’s head – the quiet desperation in your voice, the way your eyes had pleaded without meaning to and before he could even think twice, his mouth moved on its own.

“i’ll see what i can do,” he said. your eyes flew open, locking onto his with a sparkle that transferred over to his own.

“thank you, neno,” you grinned, ruffling his hair with a smirk, excitement bubbling through you.

he groaned in protest, batting your hands away but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

a second later, his phone flashes on his side. one glance at the screen and he was already gathering his things, “gotta go, lia texted,” he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

you nodded, smiling up at him, “have fun, don’t get pregnant,” you teased.

he chuckled, messing your hair up on his way out, “no promises,” he winked, making your face scrunch up in disgust. the image of your best friend having sex was not appealing at all.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

after spending a couple of hours buried in his current situationship’s legs, jeno finally made his way back to the dream house.

the conversation you had in the library constantly playing in his mind as he quickly barges into jaemin’s room, “dude-i oh…sorry!,” his eyes widen, apologizing as he redirects his stare at the ceiling, but doesn’t make an effort to leave.

jaemin scrambles to wrap the blanket around his girlfriend, who is currently face down, ass up with his dick still inside her, “dude!, get out!?,” he yells furiously, throwing a pillow at him.

“i need to ask you something,” jeno says, making jaemin groan, “can you ask me later?, im busy,” he grunts, his girlfriend still clenching tightly around him.

“oh…yeah, sorry…hi angel,” jeno mutters out, a playful smile on his lips before leaving and locking the door behind him, hearing an embarrassed, muffled, “hi jeno,” from jaemin’s girlfriend, on his way out.

“learn to lock the door!,” he laughed from the other side, the sound of skin slapping resuming as he made his way down the living room.

for the past few hours, your words had been playing on a loop in his head. he wasn’t sure where to start or how to go about helping you. not because he didn’t want to but because he’d never realized you needed that kind of help.

sure, he noticed that there were never any boys around, other than him, but he thought you preferred it that way. always scowling in disgust when a guy tries to get near you or even breathe the same air as you.

and besides the fact that he wanted to repay you for always helping him without asking for anything in return, he’d always thought you were pretty.

when you were six, with a scraped knee, and tear streaked cheeks after falling as you chased after his hamster who escaped - pretty.

when you were eight, missing all your teeth except the two in the front, food always ending up smeared all over your face - pretty.

when you were eleven, threatening all his bullies to stay away from him or you would call your dad - pretty.

when you were fourteen and you kissed him because you were curious why your parents were always kissing - so pretty.

when you were fifteen, drowning in a pink puffy dress that ate you up whole - ridiculous, but pretty.

when you were sixteen, at your mom’s funeral, crying on his shoulder, not allowing anyone else near you but him - hauntingly pretty.

when you were eighteen and you both had gotten your acceptance letters for university, excitedly jumping around together - pretty.

when you were twenty and crashed his car because you thought there was a dog on the road, only for it to be the shadow of the tree you crashed into - annoying, but still so damn pretty.

as your best friend, he wants you to see yourself the way he saw you.

if this was what it took to help you finally claim your confidence, then he’d do whatever it takes to make sure it worked. whether or not this was about impressing that boy you liked, he didn’t care. he just wanted to help you feel more sure of yourself.

an hour passed before jaemin finally joined him in the living room, immediately punching him in the arm, “learn to knock,” he huffs out before sitting next to his friend.

jeno chuckles, rubbing his arm, “i didn’t see anything, promise,” he turns to his friend, “you better not have or i’ll literally scoop your eyes out and feed it to you,” his friend grunts making him scrunch up in disgust.

“that’s disgusting,” jeno comments, the mental image making both of them squirm before bursting out into laughter.

“so what did you need?,” jaemin asks as soon as their laughter dies down.

“i actually need your girlfriend’s help,” he smiles sheepishly, piquing the other boy’s curiosity.

“with what?,” jaemin asks.

“with y/n,” jeno says before jaemin nods, getting up to get his girlfriend out of his room and into the living room. the rest of the boys knew who you were, of course, and as jeno had requested, they all looked out for you.

jaemin’s girlfriend listens intently at the plan jeno had - a makeover. he knew he needed a girl’s touch since he didn’t really know anything about the work that girls put into themselves to make them look ‘hot’.

he could argue he thought they just came that way. just like how you have always been pretty.

“well, im kind of done with all of that makeover and stuff,” she briefly smiles at her boyfriend, “but i do know the perfect girl,” shes says smiling, as jeno notes down the girls’ name, paying her a visit.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

two days later, jeno came prepared. plopping down in his usual seat in the library, right next to you, armed with a notepad that was opened to the page:

operation bunny’s glow-up

step 1: the makeover

step 2: closet cleanse and wardrobe upgrade

step 3: posture, confidence and flirting 101

step 4: bunny’s party reveal

you blinked at the notebook in front of you, registering the words written in jeno’s extremely neat handwriting, “what is this?”

“this,” he said, tapping the page, “is how i'm going to help you,” jeno explains.

there were too many steps and you’re suddenly so very aware how ridiculous this actually was, “can we just magically skip to step four where i’m already pretty and perfect and partying?,” you sigh, already feeling exhausted.

jeno almost wants to scold you for thinking you weren’t already pretty and perfect but remembered this is why he was doing this in the first place. to make sure you know you were pretty and perfect.

instead he says, “nope, this is a full process. you asked for my help and that’s what you’re getting, no backing out and definitely no easy way out.”

the sternness in his voice made you realize how serious he was about this. “you’re really gonna do all this for me, neno?,” you ask, a hint of gratitude shining in your eyes.

“of course i am, that’s what best friends are for,” he shrugs, ruffling your hair once again.

which is how you ended up here, seated in a salon chair with the girl you met just a couple minutes ago, your best friend leaving you all by your awkward self with no other than — giselle, third year cosmetology major and one of the school’s hottest girls.

her preppy personality was overwhelming, confidence radiating off her like perfume. you had no idea how to interact with her, no clue how any girl could be so aware of her beauty and completely own it the way she did.

it’s almost unfair how nice she was too. hot, popular girls were supposed to be mean, rude, intolerable. that’s how they’re portrayed in every teen movie you’ve seen. but giselle is kind, easygoing, talked to you like you weren't several social status’ below her in the pyramid you’ve made up.

“alright, so we’re gonna make sure your hair frames for your face perfectly and get rid of all your split ends,” she explains, hands already in motion as she fluffs your hair out, moving it around, parting it here and there to visualize what looks best on you.

once she figured it out, she let out a satisfied hum and got to work. the scissors glide gracefully, almost like they were an extension of her fingers and you can’t help but be mesmerized.

“so, how did you and jeno meet?,” she asks, casually starting the conversation as her hands continue to move through your hair.

“uhm, our parents are best friends,” you mumble, trying not to sound as stiff as you feel.

“ooh, that’s fun!,” she comments and you’re not entirely sure if she means it or if she’s just trying to be polite. either way, you appreciate her effort.

“and you’ve never had a crush on him?,” she adds, eyebrows raised. the shock on your face is evident, the very idea of having a crush on your best friend making your stomach twist.

“uhh no, i’ve never seen him that way,” you reply, a shudder slipping down your spine.

giselle laughs, clearly amused, “i see,” she hums, “your best friend is hot though, you know?,” you smile up at her, nodding, blush creeping up your cheeks.

of course you knew people considered jeno hot but you’re not entirely sure you agree with that statement.

he was the same boy who was crying to you because his hamster escaped, the same boy who got his braces stuck in your sweater, the same boy who ran away when you kissed him, the same boy who almost cried when your acceptance letter came in the mail first, his nowhere to be seen until a week later – your best friend was cute, the same way a puppy was cute.

“soo, who do you think is hot?,” she asks, playful curiosity dancing in her eyes.

is this what girl talk is?

“uhmm,” you shy away under her friendly gaze. you’ve never really had anyone to talk to about boys. with your mom passing away at an early age and all your girlfriends more interested in their anime crushes than real ones, this kind of conversation feels like uncharted territory.

“don’t worry, i'm really good at keeping secrets,” she says, urging you to go on. there’s something about her aura that you trust. and you knew that if jeno didn’t trust her, he wouldn’t have left you alone with her in the first place. so for the first time in your life, you indulge in girl talk.

“i think umm…i think sungchan is hot,” you mutter, shy, eyes immediately darting to the floor.

she gasps, an exaggerated, delighted sound, “i totally agree” she says giggling, “you have great taste,” she giggles. then, leaning in with excitement, she whispers, “i’m gonna make sure sungchan falls in love with you.”

you glance at her reflection in the mirror and despite yourself, a smile appears on your face, giddy and a little disbelieving.

“and…we’re done with your hair!,” she announces, your focus darting at your own reflection. your eyes widen slightly. she made your hair look like what you would see in the magazines – sleek, soft, effortlessly perfect.

the change in your appearance already reflecting back at you.

“this is just the beginning,” she whispers again, a friendly smile displayed on her lips.

she gently reclines the chair you were sitting on then tilts your chin up with practiced fingers, her eyes scanning your face with focused curiosity as she takes your glasses off, “hmm, okay,” she murmurs, turning your face side to side. you can’t help but feel awkward, gaze drifting everywhere else, avoiding eye contact.

“okay…i’m just gonna clean up your brows, and wax a little peach fuzz if that’s okay?,” she asks, voice light and reassuring. you nod, unsure what all that means but trusting her anyway.

giselle gets to work immediately, a new tool in her hand, and wax paper placed on your upper lip and in just twenty minutes, she steps back, satisfied.

your face looks softer…more defined. more you, somehow.

“you’re so pretty, y/n,” she says warmly, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “and we barely did anything.”

the compliment hits you harder than you expect. pretty wasn’t a word you would ever describe yourself yet here is one of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever seen calling you that. tears sting the corner of your eyes before you can blink them away.

“c’mon,” she says, voice still gentle but laced with excitement, “we’re not done, grab your stuff, we're going somewhere.”

after spending exactly thirty-two minutes in giselles car, singing along to the radio and laughing at her endless stream of chaotic stories, which you thought was something you’d never ever do, you were now at the mall. more specifically, standing in front of a waxing salon.

you shoot her a nervous glance, eyes wide with suspicion.

“i figured you’d be more comfortable with a stranger you’d never have to see again,” she says with a casual shrug, and suddenly it clicks why you’re here.

you knew what a waxing salon was, you just never thought you’d voluntarily stepped foot into one.

“this is my go-to, they get everything and it doesn’t hurt that bad,” she promises, reassuring, and you swore you look like a tomato with how much you’re blushing.

when giselle said they get everything, she meant they get everything.

even body parts that you didn’t think would have hair on them, body parts that no one else has seen but your own eyes. you almost can’t believe you were in this position right now, but giselle was right – a stranger was better for this. the only thing keeping you from bolting was the comforting knowledge that you’d never have to make eye contact with the person who was currently in between your legs again.

after an hour and several compromising positions later, you were finally done. your skin felt smoother than a baby’s, which was honestly kind of mind-blowing.

giselle was waiting for you at the reception, a bag in her hand, her eyes lighting up as soon as she saw you, “okay!, so i got you a little starter kit filled with makeup, skincare and all the other essentials,” she said, practically bouncing, “let’s go back to my place and i’ll teach you how to use it!”

her excitement was infectious and you couldn’t help but smile just as wide – her bubbly energy sinking into your bones in the best way.

making your way to giselle’s bedroom, you notice how different your rooms were. while yours was covered with posters and music records from all your favorite bands, her’s was covered in magazine clippings of what you assumed are the most popular fashion trends.

while your shelves were filled with books of all genres, she had an entire shelf dedicated to makeup and skincare products. another filled with several handbags and shoes. you weren’t even aware that girls had to have that many.

“sit, my canvas,” she says, lightly teasing, pointing to the chair in front of her vanity mirror as she pulls things out of the bag she gave you.

“we’re keeping it simple, just the basics: primer, foundation, brows, blush, and lipstick of course.”

you nod like you understood anything she was saying. she caught the panic in your eyes and smiled softer this time, “don’t worry,” she said, uncapping a small bottle of primer, “i got you.”

she talked you through every step. primer, foundation, blending like your life depended on it. she filled in one of your brows and handed you the pencil, urging you to try it out yourself. you tried to mimic her, hand shaky, tongue slightly poking out in concentration. this was definitely harder than she made it out to be.

“you’re a natural,” she says, satisfied with your work and you can feel your confidence growing with every second you spend with her. it’s as if she was sharing the amount of confidence she had with you.

by the end of it, you stared at yourself in the mirror and barely recognized your own reflection. not because the makeup was dramatic, it wasn’t, but because you looked like someone who belonged.

like someone who chose how she wanted to be seen.

“there…you look beautiful,” giselle murmurs behind you, chin resting lightly on your shoulder, “i have one last thing for you,” she says, reaching for another bag and you’re not sure how you could ever repay her for all of this.

as if she could read your thoughts, she quickly says, “don’t worry about it, jeno paid for it”

“glasses can be hot, but the ones you have now, completely hides your face so…,” she pulls out two things, “first, i got you these silver ones, they’re smaller but they’ll sit on your face better,” she hands it to you.

you take them, fingers brushing over the smooth metal. the glasses were cute, not your usual style, but when you slipped them on and looked in the mirror, you instantly understood what she meant. they frame your features instead of swallowing them whole.

giselle pats herself on the back, clearly happy with her decision, “and if you’re feeling a little braver,” she trails off, pulling out the last item, “-contact lenses, i asked jeno for your prescription so those should be good, they’re pretty easy to put on too but just in case, i’ll message you a youtube video with step by step instructions,” she smiles at you, soft and sincere.

and you can’t hold it in anymore. her kind actions pull at your heartstrings as the dam breaks – tears sliding down your cheeks before you can stop them.

“thank you, giselle,” you say in full gratitude, voice thick with emotion.

“of course,” she whispers, her eyes matching yours as she pulls you into a hug.

“-now stop crying, okay, makeup is expensive,” she says, laughing as she wipes at her own damp lashes. you both burst into giggles, the room light again despite the weight in your heart.

and then a knock makes its way to her bedroom door, echoing throughout her room.

giselle quickly fixes your tear stained cheeks, “alright, if you ever need anything else, just let me know okay?,” she says, and you nod, thankful for her kindness.

“let's see what your best friend has to say,” she squeals as she rushes over to the door, swinging it open and revealing jeno on the other side.

you hadn’t even thought about how jeno would react or how other people would take in your new appearance. you suddenly felt extremely nervous. he was the first person who was going to see you like this — you wanted him to react well.

jeno steps into the room, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, expression casual until he sees you and suddenly he feels like every air has been knocked out of his lungs.

you have always been pretty but right now you look absolutely, breathtakingly, beautiful.

he realizes he’s been staring in silence for too long when he notices you shift in your seat, the words, “what?,” slipping from your lips, almost harsh, trying to sound casual.

he blinks a few times, gulping “n-nothing y-you just look–,”

“different?,” you complete his sentence, afraid he will start teasing you. his stare becomes more uncomfortable with every second of silence that passes.

“-r-really p-pretty,” he finally manages to say. a smile takes over your features, his compliment completely blowing away the feelings of doubt that were starting to cloud.

jeno almost wants to beat himself up for stuttering so much.

“ahh, my work here is done,” giselle beams, looking in between you with a knowing look only she knew the meaning of. she clapped like she’s the proud host of a makeover show, as she should. jeno clears his throat, immediately reminded that you both had an audience.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

a soft knock echoed at your dorm room’s door, followed by jeno’s familiar voice. when you opened it, you caught the tiny flicker in his eyes. he was still trying to get used to your new appearance. its been two days since giselle’s successful makeover and he still hasn’t fully adjusted to this version of you.

but it was time to start step two of the operation - closet cleanse and wardrobe upgrade.

“wait,” you say, squinting at him, “you’re the one that’s gonna look at my clothes?,” you say, bewildered.

what did jeno know about ladies’ fashion?

“yeah, who else would it be?,” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“i don't know, i thought you would’ve brought giselle or another one of your lady friends,” you mumbled as he casually made himself at home on your bed.

he grinned, flopping back against your pillows like he owned the place, “nope, just me, don’t worry…i know what looks good,” he says, a playful smile on his lips as you eyed him suspiciously, “and how exactly are you going to rate my clothes?,” you ask.

he shrugs, “i’ll figure it out as we go, now come on, show me what you got,” he says, making himself comfortable in your sheets.

truthfully, his rating was completely unscientific and wildly biased. he was judging your clothes based on the question: if a girl walked by in this outfit, would i say hi?

and he knows damn well that if you ever found out you were being styled based on his imaginary dream girl, you’d kick him right where the sun won't shine. so he kept that little detail to himself.

“ugh, okay,” you groaned, giving in as you started taking your clothes out of your wardrobe and holding them up for him.

jeno leaned back, arms folded behind his head, watching you with an amused glint in his eyes. he was way too comfortable in your space but then again, he always had been.

one by one you pulled clothes from your closet – the shirts you’ve had since middle school, some with funky patterns, others just straight up horrendous. pants with weird patterns and those that didn’t help accentuate your figure at all.

for once, you were thankful for being one of the lucky ones who didn’t have a roommate. no one else needed to witness this humiliation.

jeno, however, was getting the full show. he has never realized how bad your wardrobe was until now. each new item of clothing you pulled out seemed to be worse than the last. and then came the final blow.

the naruto and pokemon shirts. his oversized naruto and pokemon shirts. jeno’s jaw slacks open, like the very memory of those shirts carried his own personal trauma, “why the hell do you have those?!,” he blurted, sitting up like he’d just seen a ghost.

“your dad gave them to me when you outgrew them, i just kept them,” you shrug.

“burn it.” his voice was flat, non-negotiable.

“what?! no!, these are comfortable and i like wearing them to sleep!,” you defend, clutching the shirts like they were priceless heirlooms. jeno stares at you wide eyed, expression teetering somewhere between disgust and betrayal “you cannot let anyone see you in those,” he says, deadly serious, making you chuckle.

“stop being so dramatic, i bet if you wore these now, people would think it’s cool,” you say and jeno shakes his head furiously, like he can't even fathom the idea of ever wearing it again, “no, absolutely not, i’ve buried that version of myself. deep.”

“well, i’m not burning them!,” you declare, shoving the shirts deep into your drawer, making sure he can’t pull it out behind your back.

by the end of it you had two piles. the “i guess that’s okay” pile and the “don’t ever wear that again, that’s going straight to donation,” pile which was unfortunately about three times bigger.

“jeno, i have like no clothes left!,” you say, plopping down on the bed next to him, limbs heavy with defeat.

your room looked like it was run through by a tornado, clothes scattered in every corner.

without a word, jeno pulls you into his arms, fingers brushing your hair out of your face with an ease that only comes from years of friendship, “we’re gonna go shopping,” he murmurs against your temple, “it’s gonna be fine.”

you let yourself melt into his side with a sigh, “okay, but like…in five minutes, i’m too tired to even attempt being a hot girl right now,” he chuckles softly and you feel the sound more than you hear it, sleep tugging you under.

jeno lets his eyes flutter shut too, a small contented smile on his lips.

five minutes, she said. he’d give her ten.

ten minutes turned into three hours and you woke up with your legs tangled with the boy beside you, “neno,” you groaned, shoving him off of you, “you’re so fucking heavy,” you whine.

jeno slowly wakes up, blinking the sleep away as he sluggishly rubbed at his eyes, “fuck, what time is it?,” he says before reaching out for his phone and answering his own question.

it was only 6PM, still plenty of time to run to the mall and get you your new upgraded outfits.

and exactly thirty minutes later, jeno was dragging you around all the stores with the latest fashion trends. you didn’t even know your best friend knew these stores existed, “how do you know so much about this?” you ask him, eyeing him suspiciously.

he shot you a grin over his shoulder, “well, i do listen to every girl i talk to, you know” he points out and you’re reminded of the fact that your sweet, nerdy best friend was also one of the university’s hot, sexy, fuck-boy.

you rolled your eyes, “gross.” you still can’t believe he even has that reputation. wanting to smack yourself every time you get reminded of it. how could your glasses-wearing, braces-clad, cried-over-a-hamster best friend turn into some kind of lady killer? it didn’t feel real.

“hey, it’s called research,” he teased, “gotta keep them interested somehow.”

he grabs a shopping cart, pulling at everything he thought looked nice on the mannequins, as well as a couple of pieces of clothing that fit his previous criteria.

you follow him around like a lost child. you don’t even remember the last time you had a shopping trip and bought something for yourself. you were usually only here to buy gifts or if you’re forced to buy new underwear.

after a while of aimlessly wandering as jeno does all the work, you find yourself in the dressing room, a shopping bag filled with clothes in your arm.

now here you were, staring at your reflection in pure disbelief. the first matching outfit jeno picked out was a tiny pink skirt and an even tinier pink crop top that left your midriff exposed, “uhhm, jeno i dont know about this one,” you say from the other side of the door, nervous.

“step out, let me see,” he says, patiently sitting outside of your dressing room stall, voice relaxed, clearly unbothered.

slowly, hesitantly, your fingers hover over the lock before unlocking the door, debating on whether or not you should let him see you in this ridiculous outfit that is showing way too much skin than you’re used to. before you could completely psych yourself out, you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself before finally swinging the door wide open, revealing the outfit to him.

jeno looked up and almost choked on air.

the outfit definitely hugged your curves in all the right places, made your skin glow and your legs look longer, and god, yes, he would definitely go up to you and say hi if he saw you at a party.

but then he thinks about all the other boy’s who would also go up to you and say hi and do god knows what else and the thought almost knocks him out.

“yeah, that doesn’t look comfortable, i don't like it,” he says a half lie. you quickly agree, relieved, as you go back into the dressing room to try on your next outfit.

jeno feels hot.

the air was too thick and he wanted to dunk his head in cold water to remind himself that this was you.

he shakes the thoughts away. these are thoughts he shouldn’t be thinking about, especially with his best friend. but it was no use. because the next time you stepped out of the dressing room you were wearing a white skirt a little longer than the last one and a light blue top that covered what needed to be covered but was just enough to exude that sexiness he liked in a girl and he swore he needed to get into a bathroom. now.

“this one’s a bit better, i could actually wear this,” you comment, innocently looking at him through those silver glasses that makes your eyes pop out, a small smile on display and all he could do was nod, “yeah…t-that one’s nice,” he says, disguising his stutter under a fake cough.

you smiled, pleased with his answer, and he felt his stomach flip.

he was in so much trouble.

this torture went on for a good fifteen more outfits, tiny side comments coming from him while his sanity continues to slip just a little more. his pants feel more restricted every time you walk out dressed in the cutest outfits that looked like they were made for you.

the worst ones were the ones you liked. the ones that made your eyes twinkle in the mirror and made you smile like you were finally starting to see yourself the way he saw you – absolutely beautiful.

there’s a million f words running through his head.

why the fuck did he think this was a good idea? why the fuckity fuck didn’t he just ask giselle to add this to her makeover process? why the fuckity fuck fuck did he throw all those tiny tops and short skirts into your basket? why the flying fuckity fuck fuck fuck shit fuck are you so fucking pretty? and more importantly – what the actual fuck are you, his best friend, doing to him?

after a long three hours of internal screaming – it was finally over.

you emerged from the mall looking like you’d just won a game show, all smiles and sunshine, bubbling with excitement, happy with the outfits your best friend picked out for you while jeno trudged behind you, hauling ten full shopping bags, half amused, half in pain.

he drove in near silence as you yapped on and on about your makeover with giselle, every detail you hadn’t had the chance to spill yet now tumbling out all at once.

in the middle of your yapping session, you noticed the boy wasn’t as active as he usually was, no silly side comments, no teasing remarks.

“neno..,” you sweetly called out to him and jeno nearly swerved.

god, the things that nickname did to him.

“you okay?,” you asked, eyes flicking over to him.

“yeah bunny, just tired,” he said with a small smile, trying to play it cool.

“that was a lot of shopping for a guy, y’know?” he glanced at you quickly, then back to the road, “keep going, tell me more about your day with giselle,” he says.

you eyed him for a second longer, as if trying to read him, then picked up right where you left off.

he dropped you off and made sure you were safely in your room. before he could leave you surprised him by reaching out and pulling him into a hug. with your arm tight around his waist, face pressed against his chest, you let out a soft sigh, “thank you, neno, sorry for taking up so much of your time.”

jeno chuckles, gently smoothing your hair down with one hand, hoping you don’t realize how fast his heart was beating, “you can never take too much of my time, bunny, you know that” he says, reassuring you.

you look up at him, with that sweet, grateful smile that’s currently driving him crazy, “you’re the best best friend in the entire world,” you say, before leaning up and pressing a sweet, innocent kiss to his cheek.

jeno should’ve been used to it.

you’ve been kissing his cheek ever since you were five years old and playing in the mud together. he argues today just wasn’t his day.

maybe it was the outfit? maybe it was the soft curve of your smile? or maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t had sex in so long (two days) it was affecting his logic?

whatever it was, that little peck nearly sent him spiraling.

“go and rest,” you said, pushing him towards your door and out of your dorm room, “thanks for shopping with me,” you ended the night with a lopsided grin before shutting your door as he finally made his way out.

he didn’t go home right away. instead he found himself at lia’s place, hands roaming and mind elsewhere, trying to exorcise whatever the hell was clawing at him from the inside out.

he kissed her like he meant it, touched her like he was desperate – because he was. so, so desperate for release. he fucked the shit out of her, releasing all his sexual urges as he guiltily pictured you in those tight, revealing outfits.

pictured you smiling up at him having absolutely no idea the effect you left behind. pictured your sweet voice calling him that nickname you gave him when you were fourteen before you stole his first kiss.

and when he finally finished, breathless and sweaty, staring up at the ceiling of a room that wasn’t his, next to a girl he barely knew, all could think about was: what the actual fuck is wrong with me?

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

the easy part of this transformation was over — the shopping spree, the haircut, the subtle change of your appearance had all been external.

you could already feel the power your new look gave you. for the first time in your life, you realized that pretty privilege wasn’t just some exaggerated social theory. it was real. you felt it in the smallest gestures.

on your way to the library, retracing steps you’ve taken hundreds of times before, everything felt a little different. the way people intently held the door open for you, even if you were still several steps away. the way they’d immediately made space for you in the elevator. and the way someone had already rushed to help you grab a book from the top shelf – you used to have to drag the ladder with you just to get it before.

however, just because life became a tad bit easier, doesn’t mean you felt comfortable.

what had once been comfort in invisibility was now replaced with the pressure of being seen. you weren’t used to the lingering glances or the compliments or the catcalls — it made your skin crawl, making you want to hide under the table until everyone leaves.

when jeno finally walked into the library, his eyes landed on you immediately. you wore a soft white top with jeans that finally hugged your frame and a light blue cardigan around your shoulders, collarbones out for display. it was one of the outfits you bought last night.

the guilt on his shoulders felt heavier as he was reminded of what he did — what he thought of.

forcefully shaking the thoughts away, he quietly sits right next to you. his gaze drifts to your legs anxiously bouncing under the table. a sign that something was clearly bothering you. gently, he placed a hand on your knee. you flinched slightly, then looked up at him, your expression distant – like you just realized he was there.

“bunny, what’s wrong?,” he asks, voice low and tender, threaded with concern.

“they’re all staring, jeno,” you whispered, almost like you didn’t want the words to exist.

he looks around the room, noticing the way everyone was too deep into their own worlds and while he didn’t see anyone obviously gawking, he knew it didn’t matter. it wasn’t about them. it was about what you were feeling inside.

“no one’s staring, bunny,” he murmured, voice delicate, like handling glass.

he knew better than to dismiss it. he recalls what it was like when he stepped out without the comfort of his thick-rimmed glasses and oversized t-shirts for the first time. remembers the way his heart was pounding in his chest, afraid of the judgments he might receive. he didn’t need to guess what you were feeling. he’s sure you were battling the same internal conflict right now. but just like how he got through it, he knows you will too. he’ll make sure of it.

you shut your eyes, taking a deep breath, “sorry,” you whispered, exhaling like the breath had been stuck in your chest all day, “im just- being paranoid, i’m not used to people noticing me,” you say softly.

“that’s okay,” jeno said, a warm smile blooming on his face as his hand moved to your back, rubbing slow, soothing circles, “that’s our lesson for today.”

jeno gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he set his bag down beside you, “okay bunny, first thing’s first is it’s all about your mindset,” he taps his head, pointing to his brain and you can’t help but giggle at the silly antics.

“im serious,” he insisted, lips twitching into a smirk, “if someone stares, don't spiral and think ‘they’re judging me.’ instead think ‘i look good, that’s why they’re staring,’” he says.

your eyes pop out of your head, he says it like it was so easy, “doesn’t that sound a little too egotistical?,” you said, nose wrinkling.

“not egotistical, just confident,” he counters, “there’s a difference.”

you gave him a skeptical look but he was already sitting up straighter, leaving no room for arguments.

“next is posture, stop hiding behind your books and sit straight, shoulders back, chin up,” he demonstrates.

you copied his posture, finding his seriousness amusing as you rolled your shoulders back, “like this?,”

“yeah,” he nodded, approving, “you already look more confident”

you laughed quietly, already feeling silly, “i feel like i’m pretending to be someone i’m not,” you point out.

“well, confidence is pretending, at first anyway,” he replied, shrugging, “eventually you start owning up to it, it starts becoming comfortable.”

you studied your best friend for a minute or two. there was a time where he would hide behind his books as well, would even hide behind you. you realized now that his change didn’t just come out of nowhere – it wasn’t just a random growth spurt. it was something he’d worked on, something that took time and practice, just like you were doing now. you wondered how he ever managed to do this alone.

“and the most important thing to know, bunny,” he adds, voice gentler now, “you’re allowed to take up space, don’t ever apologize for being seen.”

you carried his words with you, tucking them somewhere deep, somewhere that had always longed to hear them.

you sat there in silence for a beat until jeno shifted beside you, nudging your arm lightly, “okay,” he said, eyes glinting with a mischievous spark, “time for your first assignment.”

you turned to him, instantly suspicious, “assignment?,”

he nodded, already scanning the room, “see that guy by the window,” he points to possibly the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen reading a worn copy of the hunger games: catching fire. you recognize him. you’re pretty sure he was in your elective art class.

“you’re going to flirt with him,” jeno smirks and your eyes almost bulge out of your head.

“you’re joking! that’s hyunjin,” you whisper, head whipping toward jeno.

“so?,”

“so, he’s…he’s too cool and i don't even know how to flirt!,” you whisper-shouted, hands flailing helplessly at your sides.

he chuckles, “you were the same girl who threatened to beat up my bullies when we were 11, you’re telling me you’re afraid of a boy now?,” his smile is playful, lightly provoking you. and when you don’t reply, he knew you knew that he was right, “just compliment him, smile, say he has nice hands or something.”

your mouth fell open, staring at him in horror, “that’s so dumb, jeno. what if he thinks i'm hitting on him?”

“...you are hitting on him,” he said slowly, like it was obvious.

you groaned, dragging your hands over your face, “i’m not comfortable with this.”

“that’s the point. confidence doesn’t grow in comfort zones,” jeno says and you wonder when he’s gotten so wise. usually you were the one who had these motivational words ready for him.

staring down at your lap, nerves buzzing like static in your fingertips, you take a moment to think it through. you glanced back at your best friend, he was already looking at you proudly – like he believed in you more than you believe in yourself.

you let out a breathy laugh, the absurdity the situation weighing on your chest, “if this ends in disaster–,”

“it wont,” he cuts you off and you knew there was no way to back out of this situation. besides you were the one who asked him to help you. slowly, you got up from your chair, taking a deep breath and making your way towards the boy.

“hi, hyunjin,” you start off quiet, timid, slightly afraid.

hyunjin darts his eyes away from his book, looking up at you, “hey” he replies. when you don’t say anything else right away, he shifted in his seat, “did you need anything?,” he says, an awkward smile on his lips.

you swallowed hard, nerves tangling in your throat, “i uhm…just wanted to tell you—you have nice hands!,” you say, a little too cheerful for your liking. you were internally screaming. curse jeno for putting that in your head. you actually can’t believe you used it.

he blinked. then a soft laugh escaped him, not mocking, but surprised, amused. “oh? uhm, thanks?,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes, “i like what you’ve done with your hair,” he compliments, leaving you shocked.

“what?”

he points vaguely in your direction, “you got a haircut, right? it look’s nice.”

you blinked, stunned into silence for a second too long. “thank you,” you finally breathed, cheeks warming instantly.

you didn’t realize he noticed you before. let alone remember you enough to notice a change.

“you’re welcome,” he smiles and you awkwardly wave goodbye.

you made your back to jeno, so certain that you looked like a tomato. dropping into the seat beside him, burying your face in your hands, “that was so embarrassing,” you mumbled through your fingers.

jeno tried to hide his laughter behind his fingers, afraid to be called out by the librarian for being too loud, “you actually told him he had nice hands,” he wheezed.

“shut up!,” you groaned, “that was your fault!,” you swat at his arm, “my brain just – stopped working.”

jeno calms himself down, sitting up straighter now, the teasing falling away just a little, “yeah, but you did it…and he talked to you, noticed your hair, said he liked it.”

the memory of hyunjin’s compliment flickers in the back of your mind and a small swell of pride flutters in your chest, “he did, didn’t he…,” a shy smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

jeno nods, eyes full of tenderness, “see? you’ve never been invisible,” he points out.

the words settle over you like a warm blanket and for a moment you just sit with them, the weight of the realization sinking in.

“i still felt like i was going to pass out though,” you admitted, a thin, embarrassed smile on display.

“that’s okay, confidence is scary,“ jeno said simply, “but the more you practice, the easier it’ll be,” he sends you a warm smile, never making you feel like these feelings were wrong.

without thinking, you leaned into his shoulder, seeking the steady comfort he always gave you, “thanks, neno,” you breathe out.

he freezes for a second, just for a second, before bumping his head lightly against yours, “anytime.”

then he pulls back just enough to grin mischievously, “now, go back to hyunjin and say something a little less awkward.”

“wait? right now?!,” you whip your head toward him, horrified once again.

“yes, right now…go,” he’s already pushing you up and out of your seat, laughing under his breath as he watches you stumble forward, nerves buzzing anew.

trying to ignore the way your heart pounds against your ribs, you walk back up to hyunjin, this time with a bit more confidence, capturing his attention once more.

“actually i…i wanted to say that’s a really good book,” you nod toward the hunger games book in his hand and hyunjin lights up instantly.

“right?, i’m on my third re-read,” he says excitedly.

with a casual gesture, he pulls out the chair next to him inviting you to sit as you talked about the masterpiece that is suzanne collins and the hunger games trilogy. the conversation went on for a good twenty minutes, it was easy and light and fun, a little playful sometimes. you lose yourself in the exchange, forgetting the nerves that once clawed at your chest.

when hyunjin bid his goodbye, you practically floated back to your seat. your heart was pounding in your ears but in the best way possible. you can’t believe that just happened. you usually only talk to people in class, if you’re required to.

jeno watched you. watched that twinkle in your eye appear, your smile beaming as the conversation continues and it’s the first time throughout this whole process that he sees the change.

you were slowly bringing back the girl he knew. the girl you lost along the way. the girl he always knew was still there, just waiting for a reason to shine.

when you returned to him, he can’t help but tease you just a little bit, “look who’s suddenly ms. social butterfly,” he grins, earning an eye roll from you as you tried to wipe the giddy smile off your face, “shut up”

“no seriously,” he says, leaning forward now, resting his elbows on the table, “twenty full minutes, i was about to send a search party,” he smirks.

“always so dramatic,” you huff but your smile betrays you, “i didn’t think it’d actually go that well,” you admit, cheeks still pink.

“you flirted, you sat down, talked about hunger games lore like it was natural…if i didn't know you, i’d think you do this every day,” he smirks.

you narrow your eyes, “are you mocking me or hyping me up?,” you say playfully.

“why not both?,” he shrugs, clearly enjoying himself. his tone softens just enough to say, “but seriously bunny, im proud of you,” and you smile at him like he just handed you the stars in the sky.

“thanks…i feel kinda…good.”

“confidence will do that to you,” jeno says, nudging your foot under the table.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

the next few days turn into a full crash course in flirting 101 with lee jeno.

one afternoon, he dares you to make eye contact with the cute guy handing out flyers in campus, not just a glance, real eye contact. it sounds simple but it makes your palms sweat. you were able to managed a flirty smile too and when the boy stammers mid-sentence, jeno practically fist-pumps the air behind you.

another day, he made you strike up a casual conversation with the barista at the cafe. told you to be a little playful, a little flirty. you passed with flying colors, only stumbling over a few words, the barista writing his number on your cup as well as giving you an extra cookie “on the house.” you nearly skip back to jeno, face lit up like christmas morning.

each small win builds on the last, stacking slowly, steadily until the idea of putting yourself out there and owning up to your confidence doesn’t seem so scary anymore.

through it all, jeno watches with the same steady pride adoring the fact that you were learning how to take up space and shine again.

but then comes the moment that even he isn’t prepared for.

it’s a warm afternoon, golden light slanting through the library windows, when jeno leans over the table, a mischievous glint in his eye, “alright, new assignment.”

you smirk at him, accepting his challenge, “what now?”

he tips his chin toward the entrance where sungchan – tall, charming, the boy you’ve had a quite, hopeless crush on for years – walks in, balancing a coffee and his bag slung casually over one shoulder.

the air is knocked out of your lungs and you suddenly feel dizzy, hoping jeno doesn’t follow through whatever he had in mind.

“sungchan,” jeno says, making your heart skip a bit. he grins, already knowing the effect he has on you, “go invite him to the dream frat party this weekend.”

you stare at him like he’s grown two heads, “are you insane?!, that’s sungchan!”

“which makes this the perfect challenge,” he teases.

you open your mouth to protest but jeno cuts you off with a nudge on your arm, “c’mon show me you’ve learned something,” he mocks playfully.

you groan dramatically but your feet somehow move anyway, heart pounding so loudly you’re sure jeno can hear it from where he’s sitting. you were determined to show jeno (and yourself) that you have completely embraced the confidence.

you gather every shred of courage you have and cross the room toward the boy who inspired this whole glow-up.

sungchan looks up just as you approach, his smile lighting up the whole room. you send him a smile – a little flirty, a little too sweet.

“hey,” sungchan says, voice warm, “you’re in my psych class, right? you always ace every test”

you blink, a little thrown by the fact the he paid attention to you, “oh yeah, that’s me,” you say with a soft, bashful laugh, earning a chuckle from the boy in front of you.

he leans against the shelves a little, eyes raking over you in a way that makes your stomach twist. it’s not the uncomfortable kind of stare you’ve been learning to dodge lately. it’s something softer, curious, warm. like he’s seeing you for the first time.

“you look different today,” he says, tilting his head, studying you, “—in a good way.”

you feel the heat rush to your cheeks but you force yourself to stay steady, remembering everything jeno has taught you.

“thanks,” you manage, giving him a more playful, more bold smile, “maybe you just weren’t paying enough attention before.”

this surprises him, eyebrows shooting up before a slow, impressed grin stretches across his face.

“maybe i wasn’t,” he admits, the easy charm in his voice sending your heart into a full sprint.

for a second, neither of you moves. the space between you humming with quiet tension – intoxicating and terrifying all at once.

you clear your throat lightly, breaking the spell, “come to the dream frat party this weekend,” you say it like it wasn’t an invitation. wasn’t a question. didn’t give him any room to deny.

sungchan���s grin turns teasing, a spark lighting in his eyes, “am i coming as your date or…?,” he leans toward you, trailing off, leaving the question open, playful.

you bite back a laugh, finding just enough courage to meet his gaze head on, “i guess you’ll have to come to find out.”

he stares at you for a heartbeat longer. you’ve definitely piqued his curiosity. and then he laughs, easy and alluring, “okay beautiful, you’ve convinced me. i’ll be there,” he whispers for only you to hear before sending you a wink and walking away.

back at the table, jeno watches. something inside him shifts. it’s subtle, a small, tight pull low in his chest but it settles in bitterly.

he pushes it away, refusing to acknowledge it because this wasn’t supposed to matter. he wasn’t supposed to care about anything but seeing you happy.

you make your way back to him, beaming, “he said yes!,” you practically squeal, dropping into your chair like your knees might give out at any second.

jeno chuckles, reaching out to ruffle your hair, a familiar, easy gesture that suddenly feels heavier than it should.

“of course he did, you’re impossible to say no to,” he tries to tease, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and you’re too giddy to notice any of it. you bat his hand away, cheeks flushed and full of life.

jeno is forced to swallow past the uncomfortable lump rising in his throat.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

tonight is the dream fraternity’s party.

the night where you finally put everything you’ve learned, everything you’ve worked for, to the test. this was it. the final step in your glow up and you felt that electric sense of anticipation crackling just beneath your skin.

you were done waiting. done watching from the sidelines.

you were ready to let loose, to fully step into this new version of yourself.

you stepped into the house, the air thick with excitement. a tight white dress clings to your body, a bold choice you would have second-guessed before. you ditched your glasses for the night, switching it with the contact lenses giselle gave you — embracing the braveness.

this time, when you notice the stares, the double takes, the whispered comments, you don’t shrink back. you don’t flinch. you let them wash over you, feeding the fire inside you.

all those lessons with jeno clearly worked. that change in mindset was all you needed. the attention makes you glow. makes you feel powerful.

looking around the room, you searched for your best friend before finally spotting him in the corner at the back, near the kitchen.

you send him a tiny wave, he sends one back, excitement bubbling through you but before you could make your way towards him, a hand on your arm stops you.

“y/n! you look so pretty oh my god!,” giselle screeches over the loud music, a smile beaming on her face as she pulls you in for a tight hug. she was clearly already intoxicated, her balance a little wobbly but her energy still infectious.

“c’mon,” she says, already dragging you around the room with her, “you have to meet my friends!”

you happily followed her around, giggles escaping your lips, nervousness falling away with every step.

before you know it you were three shots in, dancing with the girls – giselle, somi, and angel, who you already knew before as jaemin’s girlfriend.

the music was loud, your laughters were louder.

and for the first time, you aren’t overthinking a single thing.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

when jeno saw you walk into the front door, it was like time had slowed down, like a thousand cherry blossom petals had burst into the air around you, everyone else blurring into a side character of your story.

you have always been pretty. always been beautiful. but tonight, you were absolutely radiant.

and it wasn’t even the dress, though he can’t deny how much he loved the way white clung to you, soft and luminous.

it was the way you walked around the room with your head held high. the way you glowed with every step, not shying away under anyone’s gaze. the way your smile beamed.

you weren’t hiding anymore.

you have finally stepped into your own skin, finally brought back the girl he knew.

in that moment, it wasn’t just the girl standing in front of him that he saw. it was every version of you that was always beautiful – the girl that was the first one out of the house, chasing after his hamster. the girl that didn’t care if she only had two teeth left, she would still eat what she wanted. the girl who was fighting bullies three times her size just to protect him. the girl who was brave enough to kiss him first. the girl who learned to pick up the pieces.

when you waved at him, he felt like he was on cloud nine. it felt like he had stepped into his shoes all those years ago – a boy hopelessly in awe of the only person he ever wanted to see him.

and when you started walking towards him, it was like his lungs could no longer function. you stole every breath he had.

but before you could give it back to him, giselle pulls you away, spinning you into the chaos of the party, leaving jeno standing there, fighting the urge to follow.

“was that, y/n?,” jaemin says, popping out from nowhere, almost giving him a heart attack as he clutches his chest.

he punches the boy in his arm before confirming that it was in fact, you. jaemin looks at him with a knowing glance. he recognizes the familiar twinkle in jeno’s eye.

“wow,” jisung comments from his other side, making him pause.

when did all his friends show up?

“she looks really hot,” jisung adds, eyes following your figure across the room.

a devilish grin appeared on jeno’s lips and in one quick motion, he had jisung under his arm, ruffling his hair, “no, no, no…not the hair hyunggg!,” he struggled from the older boy’s grip before jeno finally released him.

“point taken, won’t say anything about her ever again,” jisung pouts, fixing his hair back into place.

“i don’t know what you mean,” jeno smiles playfully, “i just wanted to play with you.”

chenle chuckles from nearby, “oh definitely, it’s totally not because you’re possessive and way too protective of y/n,” he points out.

“i am not possessive,” jeno argues, his voice defensive, “protective, sure, but she’s my best friend guys, our parents will kill me if something bad happens to her,” he says.

“she’s also a grown woman,” renjun points out, “you can’t keep pushing away every guy who thinks she’s hot, you know?”

“im not pushing away every guy!…just you guys,” jeno protests. he would never let any of his friends touch you, knowing what he knows.

there’s a pause as the group stares at him, “mhm, cause her really tall, really muscular, really intimidating, doesn’t smile at anyone, guy best friend being by her side almost all the time isn’t pushing away any boys,” haechan adds, teasing.

“it’s not my fault those boys don’t have the balls to ask her out,” jeno mutters, looking at mark for some support, hoping that he’d somehow take his side and tell the others that they were being ridiculous.

mark shrugs in a don’t look at me kind of way and jeno can’t help but groan in defeat.

“well, that boy definitely has the balls,” jaemin nods towards the dance floor as jeno follows his line of vision, his eyes immediately on your figure once again.

you're still with the girls but this time, sungchan and a few other guys from the riize fraternity have surrounded you, laughing and chatting with you.

“shouldn’t you get your girlfriend, jaemin?,” mark asks casually, “i know that wonbin guy has a thing for her,”

jaemin just laughs, completely unbothered, “nah, he doesn't stand a chance,” he says, sipping from his drink as the boy’s laugh.

but jeno knew that sungchan definitely had a chance with you. nothing is funny.

sungchan leans in close, whispers something in your ear and you were laughing. the laugh he thought was only reserved for him. he feels his fists clench up on his sides.

“you gonna push him away, jeno?,” haechan teases by his ear, a smirk playing on his lips, earning him a punch right on the stomach.

“shut up,” he says, haechan clutching over, his laughter mixing with his pain. he totally deserved that.

“c‘mon jisung, let’s find your girl for the night,” haechan manages to say in between choked breaths, before he dragged jisung and mark out of the room, resuming their fuckboy101 classes.

jeno watches as sungchan and you continue to talk, his gaze never wavering from the two of you. every inch of him wants to march over there and pull you away but he doesn’t. instead, he stays rooted in place, his eyes burning holes in the back of your head, feeling his pulse quicken in ways he can’t explain.

lia, his current situationship, walks up to him.

“okayy, that’s our cue,” chenle whispers before all the boys dispersed leaving jeno alone.

he doesn’t even greet her, doesn’t make an effort to say hi, eyes still glued on your figure.

“hi handsome,” lia drags her hands up his shoulders, settling on the back of his neck, her lips finding the side of his jaw.

it all happened so quickly.

one second you were still with the girls, the next sungchan dragged you to the side, his lips on yours. jeno’s jaw clenches. his heart dropping.

he needed to stop looking. he needed a distraction.

he finally acknowledges the girl clung to his neck. she reeks of alcohol and vape smoke. jeno turns to kiss her anyway.

he let’s lia drag him up the stairs, taking one last look at you. he let’s her lead him into his bedroom. let’s her strip off his clothes.

he knew you were going to be okay, knew you could handle your alcohol after many beer nights with him and he definitely knew that you were too smart to get yourself into any real trouble.

he can’t ruin this night for you.

“fuck me like you did last time,” lia whispers in his ear, trailing kisses down his neck, “fuck me like you mean it,” her hand travels down, wrapping around his already hard cock and jeno did.

he fucked her like she was all he needed. abused her hole, used her to release all his sexual tension, trying to push away the image of you from his mind.

but he found that every time you appeared, the better it felt and soon he was clenching, body shaking, his orgasm taking over as he came…with your name spilling from his lips.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

bunny: come over please it’s an emergency.

jeno was banging on your door in under eight minutes of that text. which was absolutely ridiculous considering the fraternity house was a twenty minute walk away from your building. a million thoughts were racing in his head.

what happened after he left you at the party that constitutes this emergency text? were you hurt?

you swung the door open, perfectly intact. no tears, no bruises, just you – in shorts and one of his your oversized naruto t-shirt, blinking at him like he was the one being ridiculous.

side note: it’s insane how you manage to make that shirt look sexy.

he exhaled hard, one hand bracing on the doorframe as he caught his breath.

“did you run here?,” you ask, stunned, noticing the sweat dripping down the side of his face.

“you said it was an emergency,” he shot back, chest still heaving.

you offered a sheepish smile, “sorry, come in,” before walking into your room. jeno followed, shutting the door with a soft click.

“what happened?” he asked, eyes scanning you again, just to be sure, as he sat on the edge of your bed watching you pace back and forth.

“sungchan kissed me,” you tell him.

he blinked, processing, he knew that. he saw you. the reminder leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. he pushes it away, playing the best friend card once more.

“that’s good? right?,” he says cautiously, cursing the fact that he was your best friend right now and had to listen to you talk about another guy, “that’s what you wanted?”

“yeah but,” you swallowed, embarrassment already creeping up your neck, “but i didn’t know what to do!”

“what do you mean?,” he asks dumbfounded, “you just…kiss him back.”

“it’s not that simple, you weren’t there – i panicked! i-i froze! i was too into my head and then i just – i ran,” you ramble, cringing as you relived what happened last night.

a snort escapes jeno before he could stop it.

you narrowed your eyes, “don’t laugh!, it was so humiliating, i can’t believe i ran away like a literal child!,” you groan in your hands.

he tried to control his expression but the corner of his mouths betrayed him, eyes twinkling with amusement, “y/n, it’s not a big deal, you were nervous,” he reassures, “just tell him you were drunk and then try again, it's not the end of the world,” he says it so easily – like you didn’t just go through the worst moment of your life. and that’s saying a lot considering you had a dead mom.

“that’s the problem, i don’t know what i'm doing, i always thought when it happened i’d just know but i didn’t,” you whine in frustration, pulling at your hair.

he must be crazy to think you’d get a different result if you went up to sungchan now and kissed him. you’re almost sure the same thing would happen.

“you’ll be fine next time, you’ll be prepared for it,” he says. the thought of there being a next time makes you panic.

“will i?,” you cut in, “what if i freeze again?,”

“you won’t”

“you don’t know that.”

he opened his mouth to argue, but you beat him to it.

“can you teach me?,” you said, voice quiet.

jeno stills, looking at you with wide eyes like he almost couldn’t believe what you just said – “what?”

“teach me,” you sat next to him, eyes locked on his, “add a step five, teach me how to kiss, teach me how to–” you couldn’t bring yourself to say the other things, the dirtier things you wanted to learn, “–how to do other things,” you mumble.

his jaw tensed. he can’t believe what it is you’re truly asking from him. teaching you how to kiss was already absurd but teaching you how to kiss for another man? it makes him want to throw up.

“bunny –no. i don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“why not?,” your head turns like a genuinely curious puppy.

“because best friends don’t–,” he faltered, “we don’t cross that line.”

“but it’s not like that,” you looked up at him, voice softening, “it’s just…practice.”

he didn’t move. didn’t blink. he can’t fathom the fact that he was actually starting to entertain the idea.

“it’s for educational purposes…just another step in the glow up,” you added, looking at him with those innocent eyes that makes him want to give you the moon, if you asked for it.

his throat worked as he swallowed, holding on to the last bit of restraint he had, “we can’t,” but it came out too quiet, too unsure, his resolve breaking with every second.

“neno,” you whispered, eyes locked on his. it’s not fair and you know it but you’ve already convinced yourself that this is necessary. that you needed to be taught.

“please…you’re the only one i feel comfortable with, just so i could learn, so i could know what to do when these things happen and i don’t make a fool of myself again,” you say, your tone low, almost pleading.

jeno’s breath hitches in his throat. he must be crazy or maybe you truly have him wrapped around your finger because now his eyes are flickering down to your lips and he can’t look away.

he realizes just how close you actually were and just like that, everything else blurs.

he leans in slowly, cautiously, searching your eyes for any flicker of hesitation.

you remain still, you don’t move, you don’t pull away. just watching him, a mixture of quiet excitement, nerves and something warmer, something softer, spreading through you like wildfire.

“just for practice,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against yours.

“just for practice,” you breathe back.

and that was all he needed to finally close the final inch – kissing you slowly, carefully.

it hits him instantly. fireworks. the same ones he felt when he was fourteen. the same one burned at the back of his memory. all this time he thought it was just because it was his first kiss, that feeling never once coming again. but here it is. bright, real and alive in his chest.

and this time he sees it for what it is – it’s you.

he feels you stiffen up and he pulls away softly, “don’t think about it too much, just follow my lead, okay, bunny?,” the once innocent nickname leaves you feeling hot, your heart pounding in your chest as you nod.

his hand makes his way to your cheek, warm and gentle, brushing the soft skin just beneath your ear, the small smile on his lips bringing you a sense of comfort as you as he pulls you back in. lips melting in his. you gave in, shutting the rest of the world out and only focusing on the boy in front of you.

jeno tilts his head, deepening the kiss as you follow his every move. his tongue licks your bottom lip, begging for entrance as yours part on instinct. body reacting before your mind could even process what was happening.

you kiss him back – not perfectly, not practiced but with all the pent-up wonder and want you’ve never let yourself say out loud. it was so natural with jeno. like you were always meant to be kissing him.

you can taste the faint mint of the altoids he always had, feel the heat radiating off his skin.

the makeout session grows heavier and heavier as you continue to keep up with him, learning to breathe through your nose.

you shift slightly and your knees brush, thighs pressing together and suddenly you’re aware of how close you have gotten. the lack of space between your bodies is dizzying. your fingers curl into the front of his shirt, wanting him even closer.

as if he could read your mind, jeno moves his hand from your neck to your waist, fingers splaying wide, grounding you and then in one swift motion, like you had absolutely no weight, he pulls you into his lap.

you gasp softly into the kiss and he swallows the sound, “sorry,” he murmurs against your lips, not pulling back. he was completely lost in you. in this feeling that only you could give him. he swears he could kiss you for hours and it still wouldn’t be enough.

“don’t be,” you shake your head, straddling him now. your hands find his shoulders, wrapping around his frame and threading through his hair. he kisses you harder now, less careful, lips moving in a messy rhythm, teeth clashing.

almost like it had a mind of it’s own, your hips instinctively grind down on his clothed bulge. the action sending jeno into a frenzy, a strangled groan transferring from his mouth to yours, his hold on your waist tightening.

the sound was so addicting, so intoxicating and it wraps around your head like a sweet drug.

you do it again, not entirely sure what you want to achieve but it felt good. it feels like a million butterflies flying in your stomach. there’s a growing tension in your belly that you can’t pinpoint. the feeling is new, exciting, hot.

jeno was right there with you, every boundary, every line he tried to draw was completely vanishing.

his lips trail down to your jaw, then lower, to the edge of your throat and you tilt your head back with a soft breath. your heart’s pounding. his is too. you can feel it, fast and erratic against your chest.

“y/n,” he grunts your name, like a warning – hoping you would stop him because he no longer couldn’t.

“what were the other things?,” he asks you, eyes completely blown out as he looks at you with a kind of hunger. and when all you do is grind against him once more, leaning into his touch, he’s decided he wants to see you on your knees.

“lesson number two, you’re going to suck my cock,” he whispers in your ear. the vulgar words make you feel hot, your body clenching, “do you want to learn that, bunny?,” he says, voice raspier, teasing, waiting for your go signal.

you nervously look up at him, all you could do was nod, an innocent glow in your eyes and jeno swears he could bust right there.

he reaches for one of your pillows, placing it on the floor beside your bed, “get on your knees,” he gently commands. you’re quick to follow, almost like you were in a trance. jeno tugs his sweats down to his ankles, his bulge prominent in his boxers and you can’t help but stare.

“go ahead, bunny, touch it,” he says. you almost can’t believe this is the same boy who was hiding behind your back, crying, every time the older kids would tease him.

this situation was absolutely ridiculous but that doesn’t stop your hand from wandering. following the outline of his cock as you palm him through his boxers. jeno lets out a hiss, the friction already fucking with his head.

“you can take it out,” he says, almost pleading. carefully you push his boxers off, his cock springing free, slapping against his thigh. you can’t help but gulp at his size, “i-its so big,” you say, making him laugh.

“thank you,” he says with a smirk on his lips and you playfully roll your eyes.

“what do i do?,” you look up at him, waiting for the answer. his eyes darken, that simple question snapping something inside of him. you were so innocent. so pure. and he was about to corrupt you.

he gently grabs your hand, redirecting it to your mouth, “spit,” he orders and like an obedient student, you follow, spitting in your hand.

“you can do anything, you can squeeze it,” he says, making you wrap your hand around his cock. your hand looks so tiny around his member and jeno almost just wants to skip this lesson entirely and fuck your hand dumb but he contains himself.

large hands envelop yours as he guides you on what to do, squeezing just the right amount.

“you can pump it up and down,” he says, guiding your hand to slide up and down his throbbing cock. he releases a sigh of pleasure, the warmth of your hand already making him weak.

“you can twist,” he says, twisting your hand around his cock, “you can put your mouth on it…lick it, swallow it, just keep the teeth away,” he smirks and you take a mental note of everything.

jeno releases your hand, giving you the space to experiment on his body. you’re excited, nervous but excited. you wanted to be good at this.

slowly, you continue his previous ministrations, pumping his cock up and down, squeezing and twisting your hand, just like how he showed you. jeno can’t help but let out a shaky breath, and you’re worried “does it hurt?,” you ask.

“no, bunny–feel’s really good, j-just go faster, please,” he begs.

it was sweet torture – how slow you were going, how much you were edging him on and you weren’t even aware of it. you pick up the speed, giving into his request and jeno grunts, his elbows coming in contact with your bed.

his cock looked so pretty, red and swelling, leaking.

your mouth exploringly wraps around his red tip and jeno curses under his breath, “fuuuck, oh my god.”

your confidence grows, feeling your pussy twitch at the sight of him. clenching your thighs, wanting some sort of relief. the sinful sounds he was making goes directly to your senses — the same sound you heard earlier but clearer now, more desperate, more whiny, and it knocks the breath out of you.

your hand continues to pump him, as you start sucking. you wouldn’t describe the taste of his cock to be good or sweet or like candy but it was addicting — it makes you want more. especially when every swipe of your tongue was accompanied by a breathy groan from him. it fuels you.

you take more and more of his length in until you could no longer fit him in your mouth and slowly you start bobbing up and down. his grunts and groans becoming more frequent.

jeno can’t do it anymore. this teasing was killing him. and the worst part is that you don’t even know how much you were affecting him.

his hand finds it’s way to your hair, gripping lightly, controlling the pace, increasing the speed, until you were choking, gagging, tears brimming in your eyes, “s-sorry bunny, it just f-feels so good,” he growls, thrusting his cock down your throat.

it was too much. he was too big. but you don’t care. you shut your eyes tightly, fighting the urge to gag as he continued to hit the deepest part of your throat.

this image of you on your knees, spit drooling all over your chin, tears in the corner of your eyes as you take what he gives you is absolutely heavenly.

jeno feels the coil about to snap, his breaths coming in heavy pants, thrusts getting messier and messier.

“o-open your eyes, bunny,” he orders. he wants you to see it. wants you to see him unravel. wants you to know how good you’ve been for him.

“p-play with my balls,” he instructs. your hands immediately follows through, squeezing him just where he needed it. heat travels all throughout his veins as he pulls you off, not wanting to force you to swallow his cum.

and then he falls apart – hard.

jaw going slack, eyes rolling back as his body fell into your pillows, abs clenching, cock pulsating. his cum shoots out of his tip, messily squirting everywhere, orgasm completely washing over him.

you watch him fall apart and you’re absolutely mesmerized. he looked so beautiful. so fucked out. and there’s that knot building in your stomach that you still can’t quite place.

you lick him clean, swallowing every drop that has landed on his stomach, his thighs, everywhere.

jeno’s eyes shot open as he tried to slow his breathing, slowly sitting back up, watching you clean him up like he was your last meal.

“how does it taste?,” he smirks and you look up at him through your damp lashes, “not very good,” you smile, earning a laugh from both of you. he guides you back up, as you stand in between his legs.

he lifts the naruto shirt off your body, leaving you in your light blue bra, flower patterns detailing it, “cute,” he playfully smirks and you suddenly feel embarrassed, arms protectively going across your chest.

“nu-uh don’t shy on me now, this was your idea, remember,” he says, before pushing your hands away and placing a soft kiss on the flesh on top of your breasts, looking up at you. your breath catches in your throat. that knot in your belly growing and growing making you push your legs together.

jeno notices.

“you did such a good job,” he compliments you, licking and sucking the skin of your breasts as he continues to look at you. your hands find comfort in his shoulders, stabilizing yourself.

“i did?,” you ask, “mhm, you’re such a good girl…made me feel so good,” he groans in between your breasts before traveling lower, placing a soft kiss on your stomach. his dirty talk has your mind reeling, feeling weak in the knees.

“-and good girls, must be rewarded,” he says, his fingers making their way to the hem of your shorts, squeezing the fabric between his fingers.

“how do you like being touched?,” he asks, softly, waiting, looking up at you.

“what?,” you ask, blush creeping up your cheeks.

“when you touch yourself, how do you like it?,” he asks, littering your stomach with soft kisses, his tongue lightly grazing on your skin.

“i-,” you stutter, “i-i dont,” you say, embarrassed of your lack of experience.

“what?” it was his turn to be surprised, gently sitting you on his thigh, like you just said the most ridiculous thing in the world.

sure he knew you were a virgin and had zero experience with men but you had to have touched yourself before? there had to be some part of you that gave in to the desires of the night and experimented?

you groan, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, “i-i’ve tried but nothing ever happens and i just feel silly with my hand down my pants,” you reason out and that very image alone makes his cock twitch again.

you were going to kill him.

“so you’ve never fingered yourself? never had an orgasm?,” he asks, completely shocked.

“i don’t even know how i’m supposed to do that,” you shrug.

“ok,” jeno says, taking it all in.

he thinks for a minute or two before he finally comes to a conclusion.

you stole his first kiss, it was only fair he stole your first orgasm. right?

“lesson number three, i’m teaching you how pleasure is supposed to feel like.”

his strong arms lift you up, making you squeal at the sudden action before he turns around, gently laying you on your bed.

jeno gets rid of his shirt, throwing his remaining piece of clothing over his head and holy fuck…your best friend is hot. his abs are on clear display, his semi-hard cock hung to the side, and you feel very hot as his gaze focuses back on you.

“when did you get those?,” you ask, fingers ghostly dancing over his six pack, trying to push away the nerves you were feeling.

he chuckles before leaning over, body trapping yours, lips finding that spot he left off of, as he continues to trail kisses on your stomach. your body can’t help but react, arching towards him. his fingers tugging on your pajama shorts.

“let’s take this off, bunny,” you comply, hips raising up, shorts sliding down your legs and you almost curse yourself at the underwear you decided to wear – a white one with cute little brown bears all over it.

jeno smirks, “really mature choice of underwear,” he teases and you scowl, “shut up, jeno,” you say, trying to hold onto the little pride you had left. he chuckles until he spots the dripping arousal your underwear has collected and something inside him shifts.

he wants to ruin you…so bad.

“look at you, bunny,” his voice drops an octave deeper, “already so wet and i haven’t even touched you,” he kisses the inside of your thigh and you feel your pussy clench, “you don’t even know what we can do with all this, huh?,” he says, gazing up at you. you watch him, as he got up, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

jeno’s hands wrapped around his cock and you tense up, “neno, are we about to have sex?,” you ask, your voice soft, timid, a hint of fear – it drives him absolutely nuts.

“no bunny, i won’t take that from you,” he says softly, “just want you to feel something, okay? just a little clit stimulation,” he explains and before you could even ask him what that means his cock was inside your underwear — collecting all your juices, tip hitting your clit over and over again as he slides up and down your wet folds.

“ohhh,” you release a sigh of pleasure, eyebrows furrowing as you try to understand this new feeling.

“feel’s good?,” he says, smirking at you.

“y-yeah,” you manage to breathe out and jeno absolutely loves the way your face was contorting.

he was playing a dangerous game with himself and this is supposed to be all about you. all he wants to do is insert his tip. just the tip. before he could lose control he stops, pulling his cock out of your underwear.

“why’d you stop?,” you ask, frustrated, already missing the lack of contact.

he chuckles, “my fingers will feel better,” he says for his own sanity.

he finally tugs off your underwear, the cool air hitting your pussy, before his thumb starts circling around your sensitive bud – rough, slow, precise circles that elicited a loud moan from you.

you slap your fingers across your mouth, surprised at the sound you made.

“don’t do that,” he orders, grabbing your fingers and latching it onto his before bringing it up over your head, a strong hand keeping it there, “want to hear you moan, bunny,” he whispers, sucking that sensitive spot just below your ear, earning another breath of moan from you.

your body arches up towards him, hips raising to his touch and he knew you were ready for more.

“gonna stick a finger in,” he warns, not giving you time to respond as his digit slides inside your hole, making you tense up, “relax,” he places a soft kiss on your lips, distracting you from the stretch, “it’s okay,” even with your dripping arousal, you were so so so fucking tight. he didn’t even know it was possible for someone to be this tight.

with a tiny bit of force, he pushes his finger in through your walls, “gonna make you feel real good, bunny,” he soothes as you slowly relax into his touch.

“gonna add another okay?,” he says and you just nod, trusting him completely. this stretch is definitely larger, and you find yourself biting down your lip. his fingers were so thick.

he slowly, gently thrusts them in and out, giving you time to adjust, “it’ll feel real good soon,” he seals with a kiss to your lips as he continues to stretch you out. fingers scissoring your walls until your pussy finally sucked him in.

the feeling of having something inside you was entirely new, strange, and you’re still trying to figure out if it felt good or not. but then jeno curls his finger and that knot in your stomach is rising faster and faster.

you want to know what happens when it finally breaks.

“ohh…neno,” you breathily moan, the pain completely morphing into pleasure. your walls completely adjusting to him, “please” you plead, not entirely sure what you were begging for.

your sweet, innocent, delicious moans of his name awakens something in him.

“im gonna eat you out now,” he tells you.

before you could protest, the idea of it making you feel embarrassed, he was already in between your legs, sucking on that spot that makes your eyes roll back.

“ohhh fuck, jeno,” you cry out, his tounge lapping up your juices, swirling around your sensitive bud, fingers still curling inside of you.

“neno, s-something’s happening,” you say in heavy pants, your breathing becoming shakier.

“p-please,” you beg, eyes wide, jaw going slack as you start panting, your hands gripping his hair, trying to ground yourself.

that coil in your stomach is hanging on by a single thread.

jeno looks up at you, he can feel you coming to a close. your walls pulsating around his fingers. he decides to finally send you over the edge, fingers rubbing fast, harsh, circles around your clit as the other continues to hit that sweet spot.

“let it happen, bunny,” he whispers, “let go…come all over my hand,” your best friend’s voice was the final push.

the thread snaps. the knot breaks.

you came crashing apart, stomach clenching, toes curling, eyes rolling to the back of your head. vision slipping into absolute darkness, feeling like you were floating.

jeno coaxes you through your orgasm, letting you ride out every wave. the sight of you unraveling drives him completely insane and it takes every nerve of self control to not ram his cock into you.

“such a good girl, bunny” he praises, littering kisses along your jaw, slow, reverent, like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you. your breathing is erratic, chest rising in short, shuddery pulls as you come down from everything.

he shuffles around your room quietly, grabbing a clean towel out of your bathroom before making his way back to your bed, gently cleaning you up.

your eyes flutter open at his touch. your best friend’s smile greets you, safe and warm, “you okay?” he asks and his voice is too tender. too full of something you don’t see.

“t-hat,” you clear your throat, a weak laugh slipping out, “that was a really fun lesson,” you smile, still caught in your daze.

jeno smiles back at you but it’s hollow and empty and he hates himself for smiling at all.

reality slaps him in the face, something in him crumples as he’s reminded that all of this – all the care, all the closeness wasn’t for him. it was all just for practice. a rehearsal for someone else. and now he’s drowning in the realization that he’s just the one you trust, not the one you want.

he’s helping you be prepared for another man, still pretending like it doesn’t kill him.

he almost wants to kill every man in the world for you to finally see him.

he stands, needing to put space between you, between what just happened and everything he’s feeling. but you catch him.

“where are you going?,” you ask, when he pulls his clothes off the ground, pulling his sweats up, getting ready to leave.

“back to the frat”

“jeno, it’s late, just stay the night,” you say, casually, easy. like it’s nothing. like it’s normal. like he didn’t just get a taste of something he’ll never recover from.

and it should’ve been easy. it should’ve been nothing. it should’ve been normal. he has stayed countless nights before.

but it’s not easy. it's not nothing. and it’s definitely not normal.

“please,” you say, moving over, making room for him and patting the space he usually took up.

jeno hesitates for a second or two before doing the one thing he never does if you were any other girl — he crawls back into your bed, your sheets and pillows molding to the shape of his body.

you immediately curl into his chest like it’s instinct. filling in that space that’s always been yours. legs tangle. skin touches skin.

it feels normal but it’s not. not with so little between you. not with everything unsaid.

jeno holds you close like he always does but this time he wonders if it’s the last. the sound of his heartbeat lulls you to sleep but he stays awake, eyes fixed on the ceiling, counting the cracks in his heart, wondering how much longer he can survive being just your best friend.

his fingers thread gently through your hair, slow and careful, memorizing the feel of you beneath his touch. the familiar scent of your strawberry shampoo wraps around him, soft and warm and absolutely cruel. it smells like home, like comfort, like everything he’s always wanted.

and then, in a voice so quiet it barely disturbs the silence, he whispers into the night air, words only for the moon to hear:

“i’m in love you, bunny.”

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

the sun filters in gently, casting golden lines across your bedroom floor. you stir before he does, eyes blinking open to the soft rise and fall of his chest, quiet snores filling the air.

jeno’s arm is still wrapped around you, strong and secure, holding you like he didn’t want to let go. his face is relaxed, lips parted slightly, his usually styled hair falls softly on his features — he looks so vulnerable, peaceful.

he looks like the version of himself you remember all those years ago.

you should pull away but you don’t. instead, you study him — every line of his face, older now, more defined, but still him. you’ve seen him like this before, countless times, but something feels different now. you feel different.

and then it hits you, soft and sudden.

the feelings you had for him after you kissed him. the feelings you had for him when you wore your pink puffy dress, him in a pink matching tie as you danced the night away for prom. the feelings you had for him when he held you that night your world was falling apart.

you’ve always just needed him.

all of it crashes back into you at once — feelings you’d buried under years of pretending. years of silence. feelings you quickly tucked away the first time he talked about another girl.

the way you trained yourself to look away. the way you learned to smile through the ache. the way you accepted your fate of being his best friend.

your eyes drop to where your legs are still tangled with his, you notice the bulge in his sweats and memories of last night play in your mind. you feel his warmth everywhere and you wonder how you ever got used to not feeling this. how you ever convinced yourself that this didn’t mean something.

you knew that once he woke up. this would all be over. you would go back to being his best friend. back to the operation. back to the almosts that were always never enough.

so for a moment you let yourself have this, just for a minute longer. the closeness, the warmth, the boy who’s always been there. you snuggle into his side once more, nestling into the warmth of him, letting your eyes fall shut again.

the next time your eyes flutter open, you’re met with the cold reality you’ve always lived in. the warmth that surrounds you is gone. the space beside you is empty.

jeno is gone.

you sit up slowly, a heavy thud echoing in your chest, not of panic or confusion but just that quiet, hollow ache that settles in when you’re reminded that he will never be yours.

your eyes scans the room, no shoes by the door, his shirt nowhere to be seen. no signs he was ever there at all except for the faint scent of his cologne lingering in your sheets.

swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you wrap the blanket around yourself as if that would fill the space he left behind. you check your phone, hoping for a message but there’s nothing.

something twists in your chest — you were just another name on his list.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

forty-eight hours.

that's how long it has been since you’ve last seen your best friend. forty-eight hours of sitting in the library alone. forty-eight hours of him not showing up to your shared classes. forty-eight hours of absolutely no contact. your messages were left on delivered. no goofy tiktoks. no instagram reels. nothing. and you hated every second of it.

you miss him and you’re not entirely sure why he had suddenly fallen off the face of the earth.

giselle: hey girly! <3 go to the party at the dream frat tonight, the girls and i are all gonna be there! <333

giselle: and sungchan will be there ;)

you stare at the messages.

you had nothing better to do and you’re hoping that maybe you’ll get a glimpse of your best friend while you’re there. just to see if he was doing okay.

you slipped on a light blue mini dress that accentuates your figure, did your makeup, paired it with white heels and you were good to go.

the dream fraternity still had a pretty huge crowd considering it was a wednesday night. bodies pressed together, bass shaking the walls, the usual laughter and shouting blurring into one.

you spot jeno almost immediately, in that same corner he seemed to always be in. there’s a new girl on his arm — pretty, tall, fair-skinned. you don’t recognize her. something in your heart twists.

you knew all the girls he was seeing. every girl he flirted with, hooked up with, even the ones he ghosted. usually you were the first one he would tell it to. the first one to know everything about him.

but now? he’s shut you out. it was loud and clear. he has drawn a line between you. the same line he draws once he’s gotten all that he wanted with whoever was his current conquest.

you felt absolutely sick. the years of friendship going down the drain just like this. your heart splitting into two while he’s just standing there, laughing, flirting, completely unaffected by the wreckage he left behind.

if he doesn’t need you then you don’t need him either. if he can act normal then you can too.

you force yourself to look away, scanning the crowd until you spot giselle and the rest of the girls in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, “y/n! you’re hereee!,” she squeals, giving you a tight, buzzing hug that makes you laugh for the first time in days.

“here! take a shot!,” she hands you a drink and you down it quickly, the alcohol burning your throat in the best way possible.

the dj plays a song that gets everyone hyped up and you feel yourself letting loose, having fun, with the girls beside you, already feeling better than you did when you walked in here.

then a hand taps your shoulder and you turn to see the boy that makes your mind race into a million happy tunes, “sungchan!,” you greet him with a wide smile. he looks down at you, amused.

“hi, pretty girl,” he whispers in your ear, hands settling on your waist. his touch is warm against your skin but it doesn’t burn the way jeno’s did. doesn’t leave you branded.

“you’re not gonna run away this time are you?,” he teases, playfully, earning a giggle from you.

“sorry about that, i was just…too drunk,” you lie. the lie jeno taught you.

“are you too drunk now?,” he asks, leaning in, a twinkle in his eye.

you smirk, biting your lips, “no.”

sungchan kisses you, rough, fast and with no room for gentleness. this time, you don’t freeze. you kiss him just as hard. you let his hands roam around your body from your waist to your hips to your ass.

but kissing sungchan wasn’t like kissing jeno.

it doesn’t feel the same. doesn’t feel as good. there were no butterflies, no fireworks, no dizzy, floating feeling.

you’re still grounded. still painfully aware that you’re in the middle of drunk, sweaty strangers. he didn’t take you to a different dimension. your body was just there – moving your mouth against his like a robot programmed to do so. but your heart? your heart’s somewhere else.

and it was so annoying that at a time like this, your lips on your long-time crush, that you’ve made the realization that your heart was where it always was — in the hands of the boy in the corner.

the same boy whose lips, touch, words imprinted your heart in a way that you could never forget.

the same boy who could never see you the way you see him.

suddenly you pull away, too fast, too sharp – the feelings rushing into you all at once, suffocating, overwhelming.

sungchan stares at you like you were crazy and perhaps you are. “i-i need to use the bathroom,” you murmur, forcing a small, apologetic smile. he nods slowly, “alright, i’ll just be here.”

you quietly slip from his arms, pushing through all the bodies, barely noticing the music or the people pressing in on all sides.

and when you finally push open the bathroom door, it’s like exhaling for the first time in minutes. you grip the edge of the sink, chest heaving, trying to gather the pieces of yourself that scattered the moment you woke up alone.

you wished jeno was here.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

almost like he had a radar that went off, everytime you were near him. the second you walked through the door, jeno felt it. his gaze snapped to you instinctively but he looked away just as fast.

he’s not ready to face you. not ready to continue pretending.

the next time he saw you, you were making out with sungchan. kissing him the way he taught you. and god, he needed a drink. lots of it. the image burns in his mind, cruel and unrelenting.

he wants to chop off the guy’s hands. wants to make sure he doesn’t touch you ever again.

he wants him to know that his hands were on you first. that it was his lips he was tasting. that you were his.

but that’s not the case. so he goes and grabs another drink, another shot, another mix of poison to blur the pain.

the sound of your name snaps him back to reality.

“why do you keep waiting around for y/n anyway, there’s so many hotter girls around,” the voice is lazy, mocking, it was that wonbin guy from the riize fraternity.

jeno leans against the the wall, hidden in the shadows as he listens in on their conversation.

“well, one she’s hot,” sungchan snickers and jeno’s jaw tenses.

“and two, rumor is she’s still a virgin,” there’s a wicked amusement in his tone, “and we all know virgins are the hottest in the room.”

laughter erupts around them, sharp, cruel, echoing off the walls and that was all it took.

jeno doesn’t think. doesn’t hesitate.

in one quick second, he marched over, fist landing right on the sungchan’s jaw, the crack loud and satisfying, sending the soccer player tumbling backwards.

“what the hell?!,” sungchan yells, rubbing at his jaw before his expression twists in rage. in the next breath, he lunges. his fist catching jeno clean across the cheek.

jeno barely flinches. the soccer player was stronger than he thought, he’d give him that. but nothing is getting past his rage, adrenaline coursing through him.

he’s not done. not even close.

he charges forward, ramming sungchan into the wall with a force that rattles the shelves beside them, “don’t ever fucking touch her again,” he growls, voice low and deadly.

sungchan pushes back, shoving him hard, “she’s not yours,” and his words hits deeper than any punch could. because it was true. you weren’t his. and he’s almost sure you would kill him for this but he doesn’t care.

jeno throws another fist, connecting with sungchan’s ribs, making him grunt and double over for a second before retaliating with a wild swing.

more people gather now, phones out, flashes going off, chants of “fight, fight, fight,” increasing all around them.

sungchan, lunges, tackling jeno to the ground as they roll, fists flying, shouts echoing.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

the loud commotion coming from outside the bathroom door forces you to pick up the pieces.

shouts. thuds. chaos.

you quickly gather yourself, pulling open the door and following the swarm of bodies funneling toward the noise like a moth drawn to a light.

and then you see him — you know that figure immediately, even with his back towards you.

your best friend was on top of someone, fists repetitively slamming down. your heart lurches, legs moving before your mind can catch up.

they roll and you see sungchan’s face bruised and battered.

what the fuck?

around them, the crowd erupts in shouts and arguments, phones raised like this was some kind of show.

the dream boys were trying to get a hold of the situation but they too just ended up shouting and arguing with the riize fraternity, voices overlapping in a haze of testosterone and ego.

“your guy started it first!”

“you’re on our turf!”

the room was absolute chaos and no one’s doing a damn thing. you finally push through the roaring crowd, running over to them, until you’re at the center of the storm.

“stop!,” you shout, but your pleas are swallowed by the noise as they continue to take jabs at each other.

with all your strength, you yank on sungchan’s shirt, sending him stumbling off jeno.

you finally take a good look at your best friend, he had a nasty cut forming on the side of his forehead, face flushed and bruised.

“y/n,” he breathes your name like he’s shocked you’re here.

he stumbles to his feet, eyes darting behind you “get out of here,” he says urgently.

you whirl around only to see that sungchan wasn’t done. he was charging at your best friend again.

without thinking, you step in – fist connecting with his throat – sharp, clean, brutal. completely flying him backwards as he gasped for air.

the crowd cheers.

of course you knew how to punch, you grew up with three men three times your size.

“okay, that's ENOUGH!” mark’s voice rips through the room like a whip – loud and absolutely furious. the crowd freezes, the chaos dies down. he grabs sungchan by the arm and shoves him toward his crew.

“get the fuck out of here,” he commands the room, controlling the crowd. bodies scattering like cockroaches under a light.

you turn to jeno, chest heaving, fury radiating off you, “what the fuck was that?”

jeno flinches at your tone like it was more painful than any of the punches he had just taken. you were never mad at each other. not like this.

when he doesn’t answer, you turn around, jaw tight, ready to leave.

“wait–,” jeno jolts back to reality.

you pause, barely looking over your shoulder, “what?!,” your anger is palpable, brows furrowed, chest still rising and falling too fast.

he softens, “your hand is bleeding,” he says gently. you glance down at your knuckles, raw and stained red, the adrenaline fading just enough for the sting to set in.

“c’mon,” he grabs your uninjured hand carefully and without another word, he leads you through the dispersing crowd, up the stairs and into the safety of his room.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

you stand in jeno’s bathroom, the fluorescent light above casting a soft glow on both of you. he dabs the small, barely any, blood that had stained your knuckles, applying ointment on the tiny wounds.

“you’re being dramatic, there’s barely anything there,” you mutter, watching how focused he is.

“just don’t want it to get infected,” he says quietly, his brows still drawn together.

then with a soft chuckle, “i can’t believe you punched him,” he smiles his trademark smile and for a second, you forget you were currently angry at him.

“no one hurts my neno and gets away with it,” you tease, the words light on your tongue, but they steal the air from jeno’s lungs. you were always protecting him.

your eyes meet his and the moment stretches. but then you remember yourself, remember why your chest is tight and your heart is sore. so you press your lips into a thin line, forcing away the smile that appeared.

a quiet silence hangs in the air, heavy, almost awkward, until jeno’s voice breaks it, “done,” he says, turning to leave the bathroom and into his bedroom.

before he could take another step, your hand captures his wrist.

“your face is bleeding,” you point out.

you guide him to sit on the edge of the tub, slotting yourself between his legs. no matter how mad you guys are at each other, this is what you do. you take care of each other. your fingers are careful, precise, as you press a cotton pad soaked in alcohol to the gash on his temple.

a particular swipe on the cut stings him, a hiss slipping past his lips as his hands instinctively finds the back of your thighs, gripping, like he’s grounding himself through you. the small contact is enough to bring back that familiar knot tightening in your stomach.

“stop being a baby,” you say, dabbing again, “this is your fault.”

he smirks faintly, “how are you so sure i started the fight?”

“please,” you scoff, “in what world would sungchan go up to you and punch you? especially since he’s in your territory,” you point out, quite familiar with the whole fraternity rules.

he sighs in defeat.

“what happened anyway?,” you ask cautiously, not sure if you were ready for the answer.

“nothing,” he says, a little too quickly.

you stop, eyes narrowing, “no secrets between us remember?,” you remind him.

right, that silly rule you made when you were eight years old and still held on to to do this day.

jeno sighs, his shoulder falling, “he said something about you. i didn’t like it,” he confesses and you still.

“what did he say about me?,” you ask, curious.

“that he only wanted you because you were a virgin,” he mutters, jaw clenching again like it’s the first time he’s hearing it. the urge to punch sungchan in the face coming back in seconds.

it was supposed to hurt. it was supposed to leave you angry, embarrassed, hollow — to hear those words coming from the boy you’ve had a crush on since freshman year. but that feeling of heartache never came. instead, confusion clouds your chest.

why did he care? that wasn’t supposed to be his battle.

“hmm,” you hum thoughtfully, tone laced with challenge “and what if i was okay with that?”

his hands on your legs twitch, just slightly

“you shouldn’t be,” he snaps, “you shouldn’t lose it to a guy like him.”

and just like that, the anger ignites. your hands finish cleaning him up in cold, calculated movements. you removed yourself from his space, placing the first aid kit back in the drawer with a little too much force, organizing everything just to keep from exploding because who the hell was he to decide who you should have sex with?

“oh? and who should i lose it to?,” you seethe.

“a guy like you?,” there’s a sort of anger in your voice that jeno can’t quite read.

“aren’t you the same?,” you throw at him, voice trembling with fury.

jeno furrows his brows at your insinuation, like he’s been slapped, “y/n–,”

“you left, jeno,” your voice is quiet, but it slices through the space between you like a blade. you give him one last look before storming out of the bathroom. and jeno finally understands it all.

“wait, bunny–”

you don’t stop. not even as you hear his footsteps close behind you, not even as your chest rises with every breath that feels too heavy to hold.

you make it into his bedroom but before you can reach for the door, his hands close around your wrist, gentle but firm and in the next second he spins you around and crashes his lips onto yours.

the fire in your chest blazes and still, you kiss him back.

the kiss melts into something deeper, hungrier. your hands grip his shirt as his thumb brushes your jaw. he pulls away just enough to press his forehead against yours, both of you breathless, hearts racing.

“that’s why i left,” he murmurs, voice barely a whisper between your shared air.

your brows draw together, confusion clouding your gaze, “what does that even mean?”

“can’t you feel it,” he says, guiding your hand to his chest, letting you feel the frantic rhythm beneath your palm, “the way my heart is beating, it only ever races like this because of you,” he confesses.

you swallow hard, barely finding your voice, “but you left,” you remind him, “why did you leave?”

his eyes flicker with something raw, something that’s been buried for too long, “because i couldn’t pretend anymore,” he says, voice shaking with the weight of it, “i couldn't go another day being your best friend–not when im so fucking in love with you that it hurts.”

his confession leaves you stunned and you can’t believe how blind you’ve both been. all these years of mutual pining, years of missed moments, of stolen glances and silent aching all leading up to this moment.

a tearful laugh escapes you, half breathless, half broken, “you’re a fucking idiot,” you whisper, voice shaking with the force of everything you feel, a mixture of love, frustration and the tenderness of finally hearing the truth.

with urgency, a quiet desperation, you pull him back in, leaning up to kiss him.

the kiss is slow but intense, full of everything you’ve both kept hidden, everything you’ve both wanted for so long.

jeno doesn't need to hear you say it. he feels it in the way your lips meet his, the way you kiss him like your very existence depends on it. he knows now that you’ve been waiting for this – waiting for each other, for the truth that was always there.

you deepen the kiss and jeno meets you with equal fervor, tongues moving with an ease that feels natural, as if it’s a rhythm you’ve both known forever.

you guide him towards you, steps slow but deliberate, until the back of your knees hits the edge of his bed, falling into the softness of his sheets, pulling him down with you, lips never once breaking from his.

pushing yourself up until your head hit his pillows. jeno follows your lips like you were magnets drawn together. he couldn’t get enough.

you pull on the hem of his shirt. jeno quickly tugs it off over his head, tossing it to the side, diving right back into you. the kiss is hungry, steamy, full of tongue, leaving you no room to breathe.

your fingers dance through his skin, feeling every muscle. jeno guides you to sit up, quickly finding the zipper in the back of the dress, sliding it off your body, leaving you in a lacy blue underwear that makes his cock twitch.

the dress didn’t warrant a bra, your breasts immediately exposed to the cool air, making jeno groan in satisfaction, his large hand latches on to your tit, loving the way it fits perfectly in his hand.

“you’re so beautiful, bunny,” he praises before his tongue circles against your sensitive nipple. he looks up, not wanting to miss your reaction. light, breathy moans spill from your lips, back arching at his touch, feeling every warmth he left behind.

he moved all throughout your body, taking his time, memorizing every detail, worshipping you with every brush of his lips.

his hand slip under your panties, wet and soaking for him. the familiar circles of his fingers on your clit immediately sends a wave of pleasure through you. you were already shaking, that fire inside you growing.

that delicious stretch of your pussy as he stuck two digits in makes your eyes roll back, overwhelming in the best way possible, a broken moan spilling from your lips. your hips move on their own, grinding on his hand, chasing that friction you can’t get enough of.

jeno has already memorized you. curling his fingers just right, dragging them against that spot that made your thoughts scatter, heat spreading through you so quickly.

“jeno—” his name left you as a gasp, pleasure building deep inside you. this time you knew what it was, “i-m coming,” you moan.

“i got you bunny, let me hear you” he whispered, his pace quickening, matching the frantic way your body moved with his touch, until you were spilling into his hand.

he coaxes you through it, littering soft kisses on your ear, along your jaw, down to your neck — making sure to leave a mark.

making sure everyone knew that you were his.

your eyes flutter open. there was still that growing fire inside you, burning hotter, higher. you needed more.

when you reach down for his belt, fingers clumsily fumbling at the buckle, urgency pushing you faster than your hands could manage, jeno snaps out of the trance he’s in, making his way back to your eyes.

“are you sure?,” he gasped, the words rushed, like he was forcing them out before he lost all sense of reason.

you nodded so fast, so desperate, “jeno, please.”

“we don’t have to do this, bunny, we can take it slow…i don’t want to rush you,” he panted, voice fraying at the edges. the thought of stopping absolutely wrecks him but you are more important than the desire spreading through him.

you refuse to wait any longer, you’ve already waited years. your whole body aches with the need you’d kept buried for so long. the need only he could fulfill.

“neno,” you whispered, voice trembling with need, “i want this…i need you.”

his resolve shattered at the sound of your plea.

“okay,” he breathed, kissing you gently before finally discarding his pants, boxers following suit, leaving him completely bare.

slowly, he removed your panties, the last remaining cloth between you. he reaches over his nightstand drawer, pulling out a condom and wrapping it on his hard cock, a grunt spilling from his lips.

“still sure?,” he searches your eyes for any signs of hesitation because if there was, even the tiniest one, he would stop immediately. no questions asked. no regret. no matter how badly he didn’t want to.

“so sure neno, it’s always been you,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, letting him know that every single piece of you wanted him — heart, body and soul.

that was his final confirmation.

he kissed you once, slow and tender, before his hands roamed, leaving goosebumps that made you ache even more, “i’ll go slow,” he promised, voice thick with emotion “tell me if you need to stop, okay? at any point bunny, i’ll stop.”

you nodded, your heart hammering against your ribs so loudly you were sure he could hear it. fear and want and overwhelming love swirling in your chest.

finally, he aligned his cock against your hole, hand shaking slightly as he guided himself into you.

the stretch burns — it was nothing like his fingers, his cock was harder, thicker, fuller. and you’re not entirely sure if he could fit.

instinctively you tensed, eyes shutting close at the pain, a whiny hiss slipping from your lips.

jeno immediately froze, his thumb stroking soothing circles against your hip, “you’re doing so good, bunny,” he praises, forehead resting against yours, “breathe for me okay? we can take all the time you need,” he was so soft, so caring, so gentle.

your fingers tighten on his shoulder, just for a second, letting him know that you understood.

jeno fought to stay still, fought to put you first. but god, it hurts. you felt so good around him. so tight. so warm. he needed to move.

you forced yourself to relax, letting out a shaky breath and he pressed forward again, slower this time, giving you time to adjust to another inch of him.

“almost there, bunny, just a couple more,” he says softly, treating you like glass. you were so fragile. so pretty. your eyebrows furrowing in pain, lips parted slightly.

it hurt but it was jeno, and that made it bearable. your tight walls continued to adjust around him, molding to the size of his large cock.

with one final, gentle push, he was fully seated inside you, grunts spilling from his lips onto yours.

he stayed there, not moving, just breathing with you. trying to control his own desires. one hand cradles your cheek, carefully pushing away the hair that has stuck to your skin, “you’re amazing,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple, “taking all of me,” he continues praising, “so perfect, bunny.”

a few tears slid from your eyes. from the sting, from the love, from everything. jeno kissed them away with such tenderness.

“i love you,” you manage to whisper, his lips on yours in an instant, savoring it. the words makes jeno shift inside you.

that small burst of friction is enough to ignite the pleasure. it still hurt but you needed to feel it, to feel more.

and when you finally whispered, “move, please,” jeno felt like the air was rushing back in his lungs.

only then did he start rocking into you — careful, controlled, every movement meant to bring you closer to pleasure.

he angles his cock perfectly, each thrust sending a a wave of butterflies in your stomach. the pain slowly disappeared as your walls sucked him in, until you were only left with pleasure so mind numbing, you can no longer think about anything but the way the tip of his cock kept on kissing that spot that made you see stars. he was perfect.

“fuckkk bunny, you take me so well, pussy was made for me,” jeno grunts hopelessly. he was coming undone embarrassingly fast. for someone who was supposed to be an expert, you had him trembling, shaking.

it was different with you — he loves you.

every emotion hits him to the fullest. he feels you all around him. his rhythm starting to stutter, abs starting to clench as he tried to hold on to the remaining sanity he had left.

“you’re making a mess out of me,” he grunts, “please come on my cock,” he begs, whines, pleading for permission. his fingers finding your sensitive bud, rubbing slow but harsh circles.

you’ve never felt fuller. never felt more satisfied. that heat spreading down to your toes, your head rolling back in complete bliss as the high came crashing over you in breathy, broken moans of only his name — pussy immediately tightening around him, sending him to his own release as he spilled into the condom.

through it all, jeno whispered against your skin, grunts of i love you’s and praises hitting your ears in the most melodic way.

when you both calmed down, he pulled you into his arms, head resting on the heart that’s always been yours.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

you woke up to jeno’s brown eyes already staring at you, his fingers gently threading through your hair.

“good morning,” he murmured, eye smile on display and in an instant the memories of last night came rushing back, vivid and electric.

“good morning” you whispered back, both of you grinning like lovesick fools.

“how are you feeling?” he asks softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

you smile at him, “i feel amazing,” you say, leaning up to kiss him.

his hand on your waist is hard to ignore. as well as the bulge that’s currently hitting your inner thigh.

“and you’re feeling excited, aren’t you?,” you pull back, slightly teasing him.

“shut up,” he smiles, cheeks flushing, “it’s not my fault i woke up next to my very hot girlfriend”

your eyes widen slightly, “girlfriend, huh?”

“mhm, is that okay with you, bunny?”

“hmm,” you pretend to think about it but the smile tugging on your lips betrays you, “sounds perfect.”

jeno pulled you in for another kiss, his smile pressed against yours. before he could deepen it, you pushed him down to his bed sheets, hovering over him with a gleam in your eyes.

“what are you doing?,” he rasped, the bold movement catching him off guard, making his breath shift, excitement coursing through his veins.

“girlfriend duties,” you smirk.

you littered kisses down his body until you were head to head with his cock, already flushed, thick and throbbing for you.

without hesitation, you licked a slow stripe up his length, tasting him, humming in satisfaction before wrapping your lips around his tip and taking in as much of his length as you could.

jeno watched you, his hands behind his head, a proud smirk on his face. and when you look up to make eye contact with him, his smirk fades into a helpless groan.

“fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” his hand instantly threading into your hair, bunching it up and pushing it out of your face. he wanted to see you. wanted to see your mouth around him.

you hollowed your cheeks and started to move, bobbing your head at that speed you knew he liked.

what can you say? you’re a quick learner.

his hips twitched, barely holding back from fucking your mouth.

every wet, obscene sound filled the room, and you loved the way he was falling apart for you, chest heaving, hands gripping you tighter. his grunts make you clench around nothing.

jeno came in minutes, gasping for your name as he struggled to breathe. his hot release shoots down your throat. this time, you swallowed every single drop, milking him dry, only pulling off when he whimpered from overstimulation, pushing your hand away.

“how the hell are you already so good at that?,” he groans, the aftershocks of his orgasm still hitting him.

“i have a really good teacher,” you chuckle, making your way back to him, kissing him, making him taste his own juices as your tongues battled for dominance.

jeno flips you over, roughly, quickly, the sudden shift making you squeal in laughter, as he settles in between your legs.

“your turn,” he says, voice low and dangerous.

his mouth immediately laps around you, licking, sucking, spitting — filthy and hungry. it was so messy, so wet, so crude, and yet it felt so so good. your head is spinning, heart racing, thighs trembling

you’re right there, at the edge, ready to fall — and then the door swings wide open. you shriek, arms crossing, immediately covering your chest just as jeno scrambles to hover over you, covering every inch of you with his large frame.

“jeno what do you want for break—?” jaemin barges in, stepping into the room like he hasn’t just shattered the moment.

“oh,” jaemin smirks, this situation extremely familiar, “i see,” he teases, tone dripping with fake innocence.

jeno’s entire body stiffens, his butt literally clenching as he growls, “jaemin, get the fuck out.”

he doesn't spare the boy a glance, focused only on making sure he doesn’t see any part of your body.

jaemin bursts out laughing, “alright alright, enjoy your breakfast,” he says before locking the door behind him and leaving the two of you alone.

the second he’s gone, jeno exhales a heavy breath of relief. you both lie there, faces burning red.

“i’m gonna kill him,” he mutters before the two of you erupted in giggles, your shared laughter harmonizing in the air.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

a week of being jeno’s girlfriend could only be described as pure bliss. the perfect balance of best friends and lovers. you were the power couple, always walking into the room like you owned it.

not much has changed between you two, you still tell him to shut up, he’s still dramatic, still the best of friends, except this time there’s a million shared kisses, lingering touches, whispered confessions and sex (lots of sex).

he’s unlocked something in you. something wild, primal, greedy — desire wrapping it’s hands around you. you can’t get enough of him. you craved him again and again and again.

and jeno was just undone, just as hopelessly in love. he thought his sex drive was bad before, it’s even worse now. every little thing you did triggered him — a smile, a glance, a soft laugh, it all sent him spiraling, desperate to have you. his need for you was overwhelming, a fire he had no intention of putting out.

he taught you how to touch yourself, you watched him masturbate. he kissed you in places you never knew were sensitive, made love to you in so many different positions, locations, each one leaving you breathless and trembling in his arms — making up for all the lost time.

today, when jeno walked into the library, he noticed your figure missing from your usual shared table. you were supposed to be here by now, you were always here at this hour.

his eyes quickly scan the space, feet walking around, searching every corner, every dusty nook, trying to find a glimpse of you. he finally spots you at the corner, tucked away in the back with the old shelves filled with forgotten books.

“what are you doing all the way over here?,” he asks, snapping your attention towards him, as he placed a soft kiss on your temple.

“just wanted a quieter place to read,” you feign innocence, picking up your book and pretending to be interested once more. jeno doesn’t question it, just pulls out the chair beside you and sits, his thigh pressed hard against yours. he pulls out his assignments, busying himself.

“neno,” you call out to him, a playful flicker in your eyes as you put your book down, “want to know a fun fact?,” you say.

he smiles at you, still unaware of what you had brewing in your mind, “sure, bunny.”

you lean in close, your chest brushing against his arm, “i’m not wearing any panties,” you whisper, only for his ear to hear.

he gulps, eyes quickly scanning the room, afraid someone was close enough to hear that. when he realizes you two were definitely alone, he finally takes in the fact that you were wearing a cute pink skirt, “fuck, are you serious?,” he whispers.

you shrug, “why don’t you find out?,” picking up your book, a playful grin on your lips, you flipped through the pages pretending to be interested, excitement bubbling inside you.

you didn’t have to tell him twice.

you flinched slightly when his cold fingertips first made contact with your thigh, slowly slipping underneath your skirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps. you barely had time to react before his fingers slipped between your thighs, urging them apart.

and when he finds you bare and soaked for him, jeno can’t help but let out a groan, his cock twitching in his pants.

you just started a dangerous game and he was eager to play. eager to ruin you in this public space. excited to watch you try and hide your moans.

“so fucking warm,” he muttered, fingers collecting your juices as he slowly swiped up and down your folds, making you feel every graze of his finger.

you grabbed the edges of the book, trying to stay calm, trying to act normal even as jeno slowly, deeply slid a finger inside you.

you choke on a silent gasp, disguising it with a fake cough and jeno finds it absolutely amusing. he has no plans of taking it easy on you, especially since this was your brilliant idea.

he moved lazily at first, curling his finger inside you, feeling every clench, every desperate little twitch of your body. watching you bite your lip as you tried to contain the moans that we’re begging to be released.

“good girl,” he murmured, kissing you on the temple.

his free hand picks up his pencil, as he continued to work on his assignment, like you weren’t falling apart under the table, “just stay quiet for me, yeah?,” he smirks.

you don’t even manage a response. afraid that once you open your mouth, a loud moan of his name would slip out.

he starts writing in his notebook, fingers still moving inside you, edging you on with every second. you shifted in your seat, hips tilting up without meaning to, chasing the rhythm he set. needing him to go faster — to finally take you there.

jeno knew exactly what you needed, even without voicing it. he adds a second finger, stretching you wider, making your eyes flutter shut, your grip on your book tightening, holding onto it as if it was your lifeline.

your boyfriend grinned cockily as he fucked his fingers into you.

you thought you were safe, hidden enough until you heard distant footsteps of someone wandering nearby.

your eyes immediately snap to jeno, silently begging him to stop as you tried to shut your legs close.

but his hand was too strong, keeping you open for his fingers, “you wanted this, you’re gonna take it,” he mumbles into your hair. he didn’t stop. in fact, his thumb brushed against your clit, harsher, faster.

you buried your head in your book, biting your lip so hard it hurt, but still a tiny strangled whimpered escaped.

the footsteps paused, just for a second.

you held your breath, heat traveling up to your head, jeno still working under your skirt. the danger of being caught made it even hotter. your pulse pounding loud in your ears, body burning under his touch. and then the footsteps continued, fading into silence again.

jeno chuckles under his breath, fingers thrusting deeper, faster, his thumb never leaving your clit.

“almost got caught, bunny,” he teased, voice low and thick with lust, “bet you’d love that, huh?”

the thought made you tighten incredibly around his fingers, orgasm crashing over you like a wave you couldn’t stop, body jerking slightly in the chair as you hunched over the table, hiding your moans in your arms, desperately trying to stay as quiet as possible.

jeno’s fingers continued to work you through it until you were limp against the table, panting softly.

he pulled his fingers out slowly, letting you feel every second of it. you already felt so empty without him. he brings his fingers up to his lips, sucking them clean with a soft, sinful groan.

you sit up, watching him, wrecked and cheeks flushed, your heart pounding so hard it was all you could hear, a small satisfied grin on your lips.

jeno leans in, kissing you gently. you taste yourself on his lips, then he smirks, that devilish smirk, whispering against your ear, “next time…you’re sitting in my lap.”

𓏲 the end.

—

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

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

—

an: posted this earlier than i planned because if i even spend one more day with this, i’m never gonna stop writing but ahhh i can’t believe my time with this couple is over, i love them so bad!!! i hope you loved them too!

marks story is up next! since he did technically win the poll — pls give me nickname suggestions for mark’s girl! i’m currently thinking kitty but im not 100% sold >.< — she’s going to be a little more feisty than the others! slide in my ask for suggestions or simply comment here! pls!

likes, reblogs and comments are not required but is very appreciated ⏦ﾟ♡︎

tagging: @bluedbliss [if you would like to be tagged in future stories of this series, please let me know <3]

[madamcoheed216]

Yellowjackets Theory

THIS THEORY CONTAINS SPOILERS AND IS UPDATED AFTER EVERY EPISODE!

So my theory is that the scientists are Walters parents, this Alex is Walters birth name and he altered the birth records, and Walter is working with Melissa to blackmail Shauna and ultimately the whole team.

1. He very heavily implies that he is an orphan/doesnt have living parents after Misty questions him about Svetlana

2. He also, at multiple points, has said that he knows more about Misty and the Yellowjackets than she thinks, but only uses Adams death as an example.

3. His comment about owning a boat to leave the country by illegal means.

4. “Sherlock to my Moriarty”- Moriarty is considered to be evil/bad and Sherlock’s rival.

5. Upon meeting for the first time, Misty straight up asks if Walter stalks everyone in their Citizen Detectives group or just her.

6. Callie’s friend Ilana says that puzzles are for serial killers. Later in the season, Walter is shown putting together a giant puzzle while drinking milk (considered the trait of a psycho/serial killer in pop culture). He also sends Svetlana a puzzle in the nursing home.

7. Edwin and Hannah are a confirmed couple and Hannah admits to having a teen pregnancy. The actors are 37 and 39 IRL. Walter doesn’t have a confirmed age but could be older or younger than the girls and still fit.

I believe that Walter became obsessed with finding out what really happened to his parents because he was probably told that they were *killed by wolves* or something along those lines. That’s what leads to him getting into true crime and becoming a citizen detective. Eventually, the internet and Reddit happen and he’s able to learn more about the Yellowjackets, this team of girls who crash landed near where his parents were last seen alive. The helicopter scene is of Walter either having gone to the crash site prior to the adult timeline or going to the site here soon, given that it is roughly October in the AT, and if the helicopter was for rescue, the trees would be white or barren not changing colors. Walter targets Misty because she’s a sad individual incredibly desperate for human attention. He stole Shauna’s DNA to try and frame her for Lottie’s murder.

Walter either found the DAT tape among Natalie’s belongings in the storage unit and pocketed it before giving the keys to Misty

OR

The tape was thought to be gone, just like Jackie’s necklace, which Lottie had. Walter could’ve found the tape at Lottie’s compound at some point.

Edit: A friend on Discord mentioned that Walters last name (Tattersall) could be a reference to the Inheritance Games books. The first book was published in September of 2020 and the adult timeline starts in the fall of 2021, so it is entirely possible, especially if you are familiar with the books and the character being referenced.

[sourszt]

[ 𝟏𝟐:𝟐𝟓 𝐚.𝐦. | 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭 ]

𝐟𝐭. abby anderson x fem!reader

𝐜𝐰. nsfw, thigh riding, making out, praise, porn what plot lowkey, wlw, lots of kissing, needy!abby, slightlysubby!abby if u squint (idc ik she’s vocal), i think thats it. top!reader, slighttease!reader, okay i think that’s fr it

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. i want her. i need her. i crave her. abby <3 this is jus a lil drabble bc shes so strong i know thigh riding w her just goes crazy. im also obsessed w that scene of her laying down w the book on her stomach. not proofread.

it always started out the same way; you finding abby hidden away in her room, nose deep in some book she was barely reading to escape the day. it was usually when everyone was out eating or messing around in the lounge areas because that was the only time she had to herself. and because she knew you’d find her there every time.

she’d put her book down across her stomach and pull her legs up to make room for you to sit, asking why you were there. it was all apart of the show. she knew why you were there.

you would play along, telling her what she was missing out on. today, it was blackjack in the mess hall. the prize? the fruit cups they were handing out, fresh from the fields nearby. she also knew that she didn’t miss anything and that you would reveal two cups hidden underneath the jacket you took off moments later.

the fruit was sweet — a mixture of strawberries and blueberries and melon. although, neither of you made it entirely through your cups when you leaned forward to pop a strawberry in abby’s mouth, slowly easing between her knees as you stacked your half empty cups and set them onto the dresser.

abby’s lips pulled into a soft smirk, barely revealing her teeth as she mumbled, “what, you’re not gonna let me finish?” despite that, she’d grabbed the spine of her book and set it down beside the fruit cups to accommodate you, her blue eyes analyzing your lips like they were the most fascinating things.

they made their way back up to yours when you started to grin down at her. “sure i will.” the words rolled off of your tongue lowly and teasingly before you finally kissed her. her being half propped up against her pillows, you met her halfway and crawled up to find her lips.

her hands latched onto your waist, squeezing into your clothed skin in a silent plea. a soft whine escaped abby, muffled against your mouth. you were sweet — sweet like strawberries. abby lifted off of the bed an inch, pushing against your mouth with pure need.

“you want it bad, don’t you?” you teased her gently, earning a playful little glare from her. it didn’t last long when she saw your fingers hurrying to unbutton your pants and she whispered a sharp curse before offering a helping hand. the second they hit the ground, she grabbed your jaw and pulled you down into a kiss much deeper than the one before. it made you gasp, her strength nearly knocking you off balance. you caught yourself against her strong shoulders.

it didn’t take long for the kiss to take a turn when abby’s teeth pulled at your bottom lip in your attempt to come up for air. she was panting already, her face flushed and her eyes half lidded. you wanted so badly to tear into her for it and rile her up but you didn’t get the chance to when her hand suddenly snaked around the back of your neck, holding your head firmly in place as she came up to kiss you again.

it was like that for a while, pushing and pulling while your hands did the rest. abby now groped at your ass, particularly liking the noises it drew from you, as she helped your one of your thighs over hers. your hands found purchase on her chest when you sunk down onto the thigh you straddled and abby took your moment of distraction to press her lips to your jaw.

“abby,” you whispered her name, voice cracking when you felt the flat of her tongue against your neck. she hummed into your skin when you grabbed the side of her neck, your thumb lazily stroking her cheek. “shit, baby,” you had to bite your lip to keep a moan down as her teeth grazed your collarbone.

“you sound so pretty f’me,” abby cooed as she settled back against her pillows. you were about to protest the loss of contact when she suddenly bucked her hips up and her thigh grazed against your clothed cunt. the hands that had at some point shifted to your hips held you in place as she flexed the muscles of her thigh.

she watched you from underneath her lashes, taking her bottom lip between her teeth when she saw your jaw slacken in a silent moan. you mumbled a strained curse and let your head dip down towards her chest while you tried to adjust to abby’s gentle rhythm. you could feel the bed gently shifting each time her heel pushed off of it.

“c’mon, baby,” abby pressed a kiss to the top of your head as her fingers grazed up your sides, gathering the hem of your shirt between them. instinctively, you sat up to let her peel your shirt off. for a moment, while abby held you upright to admire the fact that you hadn’t worn a bra, you ground your hips against her thick thigh.

abby’s breath hitched in her throat when you balanced yourself on her abs that you just had to lift her shirt to feel. your other hand toyed with the waistband of her sweats. she huffed, knowing what you were doing. she knew to anticipate your hand sliding down to cup her clothed heat, her eyes fluttering shut as her breathing threatened to go erratic.

she leaned back onto her elbows when you slipped your hand down the front of her pants and found her clit through her panties. all the while, you made up for her dying pace by picking your own up. “fu-fuck,” abby hissed. she nudged her leg to the side to give you better access.

you loved seeing her like this. her eyebrows were beginning to tent together and her reddened lips were parted in soft moans. her eyes struggled to stay open with your fingers working her clit just the way she liked it and she wasn’t sure if she should look at you or the hand down her sweats.

every so often your hand would slow down when you got too caught up with fucking yourself on her thigh, but she didn’t mind. she enjoyed the sweet little whines you’d shamelessly let slip. and every once in a while, amidst your languid thrusts, your knee would hit the back of your hand and it would bump against abby’s sensitive clit.

“that’s it,” abby breathed encouragingly. one hand settled at the small of your back, aiding you along. she could feel the desperation in your thrusts, each one more eager than the last. she grabbed the wrist that was still inside of her sweats, guiding you over her body. “c’mon, baby, almost there.”

your lips clashed messily as you continued to ride abby’s thigh. you knew her sweats were already a mess because of you and that you probably looked just as bad but you didn’t care. all you could think about was how good abby’s thigh felt on your clit and how big her hands were groping your tits. he was all but stealing the air straight from your lungs.

“fuck, abby,” you whined against her lips. “i’m… i’m close, ‘m so fucking close.” that familiar churn in your stomach continued to grow each time you rolled your hips on abby’s firm thigh.

abby cursed under her breath at the sound of your voice, so whiny and full of need. “‘ts okay, let go for me.” she husked. she watched your face twist as you got closer and closer until it finally hit you.

her hands slid up and down the fronts of your bare legs as you rode her through your orgasm. your pace fell short and your moans filled the room. her name fell from your lips over and over, balling her sheets in your fists.

even after you fell slack against her, she kept her hands glued to your sides. her thumbs rubbed soft circles into your stomach while you caught your breath. you were covered in a thin sheet of sweat and your face was still so flushed when you came up to look at her. but that didn’t stop you from seeking out her lips.

she accepted the kiss gracefully, sliding one hand up to the base of your jaw and holding you in place. the kiss was slow and soft, but abby sensed it shifting to something more when you shifted back onto your heels and started lifting her shirt up her toned body. she hummed and pulled away, giving you nothing more than a questioning look.

“i’m gonna let you finish, isn’t that what you wanted?” you teased her breathlessly, throwing her words back at her as you slotted yourself between her legs.

abby went to say something sharp back but the words caught in her throat when you dipped your head down to the hem of her bra and kissed her skin. “fuck,” she moaned softly when you ghosted the tips of your fingers down her sides and stopped at the waistband of her sweats, “you’re fucking insatiable, you know that?” she choked out as she peered down at you.

“you love it.”

not proofread my b 🤑 i need more smuts of my Wife without strap. yes i support strap use #backthatstrap but idc i need HER. just HER.

[starsjulia]

gummies and giggles // alexia putellas

a/n : i can’t imagine alexia putting up with a high person, but oh well.

warnings : cannabis consumption, fluff.

The Airbnb was charming, just as Alexia had promised. Nestled beside one of Amsterdam’s quiet canals, the house had tall windows that flooded the space with soft light, a cozy living room with fluffy blankets, and a kitchen that Mapi claimed was “too nice not to mess around in.” For Alexia, it was perfect—clean, organized, and peaceful.

For you and Mapi, it was the perfect place to cause trouble.

It all started innocently enough. Mapi had brought up the idea after lunch while Alexia was preoccupied with a book and Ingrid was scrolling on her phone. You were sprawled on the floor near the couch, making exaggerated sighs about being “bored out of your mind.”

“Amsterdam is the city of adventure, no?” Mapi grinned, her voice low as she nudged you with her foot.

“What kind of adventure?” you asked, perking up immediately.

Mapi reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small plastic baggie, shaking it slightly to reveal the colorful gummies inside. “Just one each,” she whispered conspiratorially. “We’ll have a little fun.”

You blinked, leaning in closer. “What is that?”

“Edibles,” she replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You squinted at the bag, skeptical but intrigued. “Is this a good idea? Ale will kill me.”

Mapi grinned mischievously. “When have I ever steered you wrong?”

You paused. “Well, there was that time you convinced me to jump into a freezing lake because ‘it looked fun.’”

Mapi rolled her eyes. “This will be better. Trust me.”

She held one gummy out, and after a brief moment of hesitation, you took it. “Just one?”

“Just one,” Mapi assured you, popping her own into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

———————

Two hours later, it became abundantly clear that you were not fine.

You were curled up on the Airbnb’s soft rug, giggling at absolutely nothing while Mapi sat on the couch, completely mesmerized by the way the light reflected off a glass of water on the coffee table.

Alexia had been in the shower, blissfully unaware, but when she stepped back into the living room and saw the scene before her, she froze.

“What the fucks is going on here?”

Ingrid, who had only just come out of the bedroom after a nap, groaned loudly as she took one look at you and Mapi. “Are you two serious?”

“Hi, Ale,” you said brightly, turning your head toward her. Your face was flushed, eyes glassy, and you were grinning like you’d just heard the funniest joke of your life.

“Don’t ‘Hi, Ale’ me,” Alexia replied, crouching down beside you. “What did you do?”

You squinted up at her like she’d asked the hardest question in the world. “I had a gummy. It was so tiny, Ale. Like…” You held your fingers close together, demonstrating its smallness.

Alexia stared at you, her expression flat. “You took an edible? Are you serious?”

“Mapi said it would be fun,” you replied innocently, smiling as you leaned toward her. “And I am having fun.”

Alexia turned sharply toward Mapi, who was still staring at the glass of water like it held the answers to the universe. “And you?”

Mapi looked up slowly, blinking at Alexia like she’d forgotten she was even there. “Did you know… water is just really tiny pieces of ocean?”

Ingrid smacked her hand against her forehead. “Oh my God.”

Alexia ran a hand through her hair, clearly trying to keep her patience intact. “You two are ridiculous.”

You tugged at Alexia’s sleeve, looking up at her with your big pleading eyes. “Don’t be mad at me.”

Alexia sighed deeply as she sat down on the floor beside you. You immediately crawled into her lap, nuzzling your face against her shoulder.

“I’m not mad,” she muttered, though she clearly wasn’t thrilled. “I just don’t understand how you thought this was a good idea.”

“You’re warm,” you mumbled, ignoring her frustration entirely as you melted against her. “And you smell really good. Did I ever tell you how pretty you are?”

Alexia raised an eyebrow, though her hand had already instinctively begun rubbing circles on your back. “Are you always this clingy when you’re high?”

“I don’t know,” you replied honestly, tilting your head up to smile at her. “But you’re warm and soft and perfect and… can I kiss you?”

“What?” Alexia spluttered, her cheeks tinged pink.

Ingrid’s head snapped up, glaring at Mapi. “Do you see what you’ve done?”

Mapi just giggled. “She’s in love. Let her love.”

—————

It wasn’t long before the munchies hit.

“Alexia,” you whispered, still nestled in her lap like you had no intention of leaving.

“Yes?”

“I’m starving.”

“You ate lunch two hours ago.”

“But now I’m hungry,” you whined, pouting up at her. “I need something sweet.”

Alexia sighed heavily as she helped you sit up. “What do you want?”

Your face lit up. “A waffle.”

“A waffle?”

“Yes. A big one. With syrup.”

Alexia gave you a look that clearly said she was done with you, but she still got up and made her way into the kitchen. “You’re so lucky I love you,” she muttered under her breath.

When Alexia returned with the waffle—golden, steaming, and drizzled with syrup—you looked at it like it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, carefully taking the plate from her hands. “You’re an absolute angel, Ale.”

She sat down beside you, watching as you took your first bite. The moment the syrup hit your tongue, you let out a moan. soft, drawn-out, pornorgraphic, and very not appropriate for a waffle.

Alexia blinked. “Did you just sex moan over a waffle?”

You paused mid-chew, eyes wide, before you dissolved into giggles. “Noooo,” you managed, grinning as you stuffed another bite into your mouth.

“Yes, you did,” Alexia replied, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable woman.”

“It’s just a really good waffle,” you said, swallowing the bite and leaning into her side. “You need to try it.”

Before she could reply, you kissed her cheek, leaving a faint trace of syrup behind.

Alexia groaned, wiping at her cheek as she muttered, “You’re a mess.”

“I’m your mess,” you replied sweetly, wrapping your arms around her waist and pulling her closer.

She sighed, though there was no real annoyance behind it as she pressed a kiss to your temple. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

From across the room, Ingrid sighed loudly as Mapi whispered something about the light being “a little rainbow on the glass.”

“We are never doing this again,” Ingrid muttered.

Mapi, still blissfully mesmerized, giggled softly. “Never say never.”

Alexia looked down at you, now curled up in her lap, half-asleep with a satisfied smile on your face.

She shook her head with a small, fond smile. “What am I going to do with you?”

You hummed softly, snuggling closer. “Keep me forever.”

And even as chaos reigned around her, Alexia couldn’t imagine ever letting you go.

[gf2bellamy]

library — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: draco joins you in the library content warnings: mention of school stress , eating in the great hall

Charms class dragged on, as Professor Flitwick went over the details of next week’s homework. You slouched in your seat, propping your head on your hand while your eyes drifted around the room.

Beside you, Pansy was doodling aimlessly in her textbook, entirely uninterested in the lecture. Your eyes landed on Harry and Ron, who were scribbling furiously in their notes, but not about Charms. Judging by their muffled laughter, they were playing some sort of game, much to Hermione’s dismay. She swatted Ron’s arm with a glare, clearly trying to get him to pay attention. The scene made you smile faintly, but your attention shifted again, landing on Draco. He sat slumped in his chair, his pale hair falling across his forehead as his eyes threatened to close. He looked like he was seconds away from dozing off completely,.

You found yourself watching him longer than you intended.

“Enjoying the view?” Pansy’s whispered voice jolted you out of your thoughts. You snapped your head toward her, and she raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk on her lips. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you muttered, giving her a half-hearted grimace as you straightened up in your chair. 

Pansy didn’t buy it for a second. She had caught on to your not-so-subtle crush on Draco ages ago, though she’d promised to keep it to herself. That didn’t stop her from teasing you at every opportunity. 

Professor Flitwick’s voice cut through your embarrassment. “I’ll see you all next week!” he announced, dismissing the class. Grateful for the excuse to leave, you hastily shoved your books into your bag, ready to escape to the Great Hall for dinner. 

“You two coming?” Blaise Zabini asked, stopping in front of your desk. Draco stood just behind him, lazily slinging his bag over his shoulder. 

Pansy snapped her textbook shut and stood, brushing imaginary dust from her robes. “I’m starving,” she declared, already heading toward the door. 

“Me too,” you murmured, falling into step behind her and Blaise. 

Draco, however, matched your pace, walking beside you as the group made its way down the corridor. You tried to keep your focus straight ahead, even as you were hyper-aware of him beside you. 

“Long class, wasn’t it?” Draco drawled, his voice low and smooth. 

You glanced at him, startled that he was talking to you. His gray eyes met yours briefly, a flicker of amusement in them. “Yeah, Flitwick really knows how to make time crawl,” you replied, managing to keep your voice steady. 

Draco smirked faintly, his gaze lingering for a moment longer before he looked ahead. “You didn’t look like you were paying much attention anyway.” 

“Neither were you,” you muttered under your breath, glancing at Draco out of the corner of your eye. “Saw you almost falling asleep.” 

He looked momentarily caught, his gray eyes widening just a fraction before he shrugged it off with nonchalance. “Long day,” he replied simply, though the slight curve of his lips hinted at his amusement. 

The conversation didn’t go further as you and the rest of your friend group reached the Great Hall. Pansy wasted no time piling food onto her plate. You followed suit, your stomach reminding you how long it had been since lunch. Double Potions with Snape followed by Professor Flitwick’s monotone lecture had drained you completely. You sighed heavily, spearing a few fries with your fork before popping them into your mouth. For a moment, you let yourself get lost in the simple comfort of food, but the looming pile of homework waiting for you made it hard to relax.

Draco’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “What’s up with you?” he asked as he reached for a bread roll. 

“Don’t feel like spending the night in the library,” you mumbled around a mouthful of fries. “Again,” you added with a groan, thinking back to the endless hours you’d spent surrounded by dusty books and half-finished parchment the night before. Draco’s gaze flickered toward you, his attention drawn away from his plate. Blaise and Pansy were too busy bickering over the last piece of bread to notice at first, their playful banter filling the space. 

“I’ll come with you,” Draco said suddenly.

You froze mid-motion, your fork hovering just above your plate before you slowly set it down. Turning to face him, you raised an incredulous eyebrow. “You?” Draco met your gaze with his cool, gray eyes, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Draco Malfoy. In the library?” you said, your voice laced with disbelief as you studied him. 

“Why not?” he replied nonchalantly, shifting his focus back to his food.At that moment, Pansy and Blaise stopped mid-argument, their heads snapping toward the two of you. 

“What was that about the library?” Pansy asked, her eyes darting between you and Draco.

“You’re going to the library with her?” Blaise chimed in, his tone equal parts surprise and amusement as he leaned forward.

Draco didn’t look up, slicing into his food with an air of indifference. “I don’t see why it’s such a big deal,” he said, but his smirk deepened ever so slightly. 

Pansy’s lips curled into a knowing grin. “Oh, it’s not a big deal,” she said, dragging out the words as her gaze flicked to you. “Not at all.” 

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the heat creeping up your neck. “I need to finish my essay, that’s all,” you muttered, trying to downplay the situation as you returned your attention to your plate. 

“Sure, that’s all it is,” Blaise teased, exchanging a sly look with Pansy. 

Draco finally glanced up, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly at the pair of them. “You two should focus on your food instead of other people’s business,” he said smoothly, the authority in his tone enough to quiet them for now. 

After dinner, the chatter and laughter continued as everyone polished off their meals. Blaise and Pansy eventually decided to head back to the Slytherin common room, but not before Pansy grabbed your arm, pulling you aside with a teasing grin. 

“So, the library, huh?” she whispered, her voice dripping with mischief. 

You rolled your eyes, trying to appear unaffected. “Don’t make it weird, Pansy.” 

She leaned in closer, her grin widening. “Oh, it’s already weird. Malfoy volunteering to study? With you? That’s rich.” 

Before you could respond, she gave you a playful wink and flounced off to catch up with Blaise. You let out a sigh and turned back toward Draco, who was waiting patiently at the base of the stairs.

His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his gray eyes as he watched Pansy retreat. 

“What did she say?” he asked casually as you joined him. 

“Nothing important,” you replied quickly, brushing it off. 

The two of you began climbing the grand staircase toward the library, your footsteps echoing softly in the quiet corridors. The conversation turned to your respective workloads—essays, spell theory, and the looming deadlines that Hogwarts always seemed to pile on. 

Once you reached the library, the atmosphere shifted immediately. The warm, hushed air was filled with the faint rustle of turning pages and the soft creak of chairs as students worked at scattered tables. The librarian shot a warning glance in your direction as you entered, and you both instinctively fell silent. 

Draco scanned the room before selecting a free table near the back, far enough away from the busier sections. He pulled out a chair and sat down. You slid into the seat across from him, pulling out your books and parchment with a quiet efficiency. 

The two of you worked in near silence, save for the occasional scratch of quills on parchment and the soft rustling of pages. Draco’s focus was surprising—he wasn’t just idly pretending to work.

You stole a glance at him from behind your textbook, unable to help yourself. His usually sharp, guarded expression softened slightly in the dim light of the library, and the way he absentmindedly tapped his quill against the edge of his ink bottle was strangely endearing. 

“What?” he asked suddenly, not looking up but clearly catching you in the act. 

You snapped your gaze back to your parchment, your cheeks heating. “Nothing. Just surprised you’re actually working.” 

Draco smirked faintly, his quill pausing mid-scratch. “I told you, I’m full of surprises.” 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips as you returned to your work. 

You focused on your parchment, the rhythm of writing and flipping pages creating a peaceful backdrop. 

Every now and then, you’d exchange a wordless glance across the table—a raised eyebrow when Draco sighed in frustration at his essay or a subtle laugh when you dropped your book.

“Why does Snape insist on us writing essays on potion theories we’ll never use?” Draco muttered under his breath, breaking the quiet. His voice was low enough not to earn the librarian’s wrath, but it carried just enough irritation to make you stifle a laugh. 

“Probably because he enjoys watching us suffer,” you whispered back, unable to resist teasing him. 

Draco snorted softly, a rare but genuine reaction that made your heart skip a beat. “You might be onto something,” he said, his smirk widening as he leaned back slightly in his chair. 

You returned your focus to your work, but a few minutes later, Draco spoke again. 

“You’ve got ink on your nose,” he said casually, leaning forward with an amused glint in his eyes. 

“What?” You immediately raised a hand to your face, swiping at your nose. 

Draco shook his head. “Not there. Here.” 

Before you could react, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against your skin as he wiped the spot just above the bridge of your nose. The gesture was so unexpected, so gentle, that you froze for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. 

“There,” he said softly, his voice almost tender. 

You managed a quiet “Thanks,” barely able to meet his gaze as heat flooded your cheeks. Draco didn’t comment, but you noticed the faintest flush creeping up his neck as he returned to his essay. 

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of quiet concentration, shared glances, and the occasional murmured exchange.

By the time you both decided to call it a night, the library had emptied out.As you packed up your things, Draco stood and waited for you, his posture relaxed but his eyes attentive. 

“Ready?” he asked, his voice low.

You nodded, slinging your bag over your shoulder. When you reached the staircase that would take you to your own rooms, Draco paused, glancing at you. 

“You work too hard,” he said after a moment, his tone light but his expression sincere. 

You tilted your head, meeting his gaze. “Says the person who just spent two hours in the library with me.” 

Draco smirked, his usual confidence returning. “What can i say ? I had a lot of free time.” 

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Goodnight, Draco.” 

“Goodnight,” he replied, his smirk softening into something warmer as he watched you descend the stairs. 

[my-castles-crumbling]

burnt - @jegulus-microfic - word count: 261

"Prongs...what the fuck, mate?" Sirius asked, a genuinely bemused expression in his face.

And...he had a right to be shocked. James was a lot of things, but all-out stupid wasn't one of them. So throwing an exploding hex at a cauldron full of Amortentia certainly was a bit out-of-character.

But, starting down at the burnt, charred edges of the cauldron, James figured that the entire thing had been out-of-character.

Walking into the room. Smelling something amazing. Realizing it smelled a lot like your best mate's little brother. Panicking when he found out the smell was coming from Amortentia. And, subsequently, thinking, 'Oh, Merlin Sirius will smell it and know, I need to destroy it,' and blowing up the evidence before he realized that the Amortentia did not smell the same to Sirius. It probably smelled like chocolate and books and all things Moony.

But now it was too late. And as he stuttered to come up with a reasonable explanation for why he'd gone off the deep end, he heard a voice, the most amazing voice, make of silk and melodies he'd never dream of composing, carry across the room.

"Why in Salazar's name does it smell like mint and eucalyptus in here?" the younger boy called out, hand full of packages that were obviously for Slughorn.

But before anyone could explain, Regulus stopped short at the scene, and his mouth popped open.

"Oi, James. Don't you use shampoo with mint and eucalyptus?" Peter asked loudly, completely out of the loop.

James was pretty sure his face had never gone redder.

[lem0nt1ddy]

HEADCANONS (SFW)

✨️Mr. Ring A Ding/Lux Imperator x Reader

Howdy all! I'm Lemon! This is the first writing I've posted in a long time. I deleted everything I've posted beforehand on all forums. I heavily enjoyed watching Lux, and it inspired me to return to writing! Please enjoy!

____________________________________________________

• Mr. Ring A Ding is a man who "falls in love at first sight". The moment his eyes land on you, his heart literally pops out of his chest, fluttering wildly as hearts swirl around his head. With those dreamy eyes, impossibly fluffy lashes, and exaggerated expressions, he makes no secret of how smitten he is.

• Full-blown romantic daydreamer. He’ll float midair in a lovestruck daze, sighing dramatically as he watches you from across the room like you’re the only star in his animated sky. He’d sit in a cinema seat for hours just gazing at you like you’re the main feature.

• There is no shame in his game! He’s endlessly charismatic and pours on the charm like it’s second nature. Whether it's a wink, a blown kiss, or a surprise serenade, he's always making a scene—enjoying every second of it.

• MASSIVE FLIRT ALERT. Big gestures, bigger compliments, and even bigger eyes when you walk into the room.

• This guy is a ride-or-die. He follows you like a heart-eyed puppy, arms always ready to swoop you into a dramatic dip or tight cuddle.

• Almost hyper-affectionate, needy in the most endearing way, and acts like being apart from you for five minutes is a tragedy of universe-ending proportions.

🌙 But of course, there is Lux within Mr. Ring A Ding.

• Before inhabiting the cartoon, Lux Imperator—the God of Light, the Dazzle at the heart of the Pantheon.—didn’t feel the way mortals did. Affection, longing, softness… those were distant, irrelevant concepts. He was celestial: radiant, untouchable, and entirely above sentiment. Cold, calculated, cruel, and at times, sadistic in his magnificence. That is, until you came along.

• Then he saw you. In a single, fleeting moment, you pierced through the perfection of his divine solitude. For the first time, something pulled him downward—from the heavens, into your orbit.

• He thinks you're gorgeous and wants to do something about it.

• Thanks to his new cartoony form, his emotions greatly amplified. As a cartoon, emotion rushes through him unchecked: heightened, amplified, unrelenting. He giggles louder, smiles brighter, feels deeper, and sparkles like glitter.

• Master manipulator. He knows what he wants, he knows how to get it, and he'll destroy everything in his way to have it. And this time, it's you. Lux isn’t some lovestruck fool fumbling for your hand—he is a master of the long game.

• The guy will stalk follow you wherever you go. Again, you can't escape light itself!

• At first, he wears a bright, harmless mask—“Mr. Ring A Ding!” he says with a charming grin. Jovial, magnetic. But behind those golden eyes is something ancient. Sinister. Something dangerous.

_____________________________________________

“Oh me, oh my!” he gushed, teetering forward with a sparkle in his heart-shaped eyes—completely, shamelessly hypnotized. “And what do we have here?”

He took a jaunty step closer, his little two-foot frame radiating theatrical delight.

“You are… dazzling! Positively radiant!” He twirled on his heel, a flourish in his voice as if announcing a grand discovery. “Please, won’t you tell me—who is this standing before me?”

_____________________________________________

• Lux is a needy bastard. Most of the time he wants an excuse to be around you or interact with you. Lux clings to excuses just to be near you.

-> Going up the stairs? He’s weak to walk, so he begs. “Oh dear, my legs!” he gasps, arms outstretched like a damsel. He'll deliberately stumble or whimper for your pity, milking every ounce of concern. "Please, help me, darling!"

• He'll whip out every excuse in the book for you to stay if you have to leave, no matter how long you will be gone. This man is devious. It's almost funny how he can turn from an untouchable god to a beggar, literally writhing around at your feet, swinging his cartoonish arms around your legs to keep you from leaving. Bro cries a river every time.

-> "You’re abandoning me! Forever! My heart—it's shattered!” he cries, tears somehow real, and a bit excessive.

• It's important to acknowledge the fact that Lux is still a manipulative, ill-intended, conniving little shit behind the antics and adoration. He knows how to pull strings, twist emotions, and charm you into compliance.

• And yet, it’s real. All of it. The obsession, the affection, the chaos. It's messy and unhinged, but his feelings are genuine.

• You’re the one thing that breaks through his armor of cartoonish madness and divine detachment.

_____________________________________________

Lux does not hold back when it comes to affection. Again, he thinks you're pretty, and he's going to tell you all the time.

• He cannot keep his hands to himself. He always has to be holding you or touching you in some way. A hand on yours, grabbing your waist, both are on your cheeks when giving you a big ol' smooch.

• Make-out sessions on the floor? That's a yes. You'll find him on top of you, with hearts flying around his head with each second that flies by.

Even though he is a God, and you are a mortal, he would worship and adore you. In return, he wants you to worship him, too. Not in a religious way but romantically (out of love). He'll treat you as if you're the most sublime creature on earth.

_____________________________________________

I do take requests, questions, SFW, and NSFW! Please, do ask!

[therookieimagines]

Not that he cares...or anything.. - Tim Bradford x reader part one

Summary: After an argument with your TO you request a change, after a rough fight at home it leaves your Training officer to not only save your life, but unknowingly give you meaning in life as well.

warnings: Details of being shot, shooting someone else, you almost dying, your roommate being a creep

You were a rookie with the LAPD, working alongside some of the best, trying your hardest to do whatever is right, but today, your head was foggy, you were going through a thing with your roommate who had a thing for you, and now after politely declining, he's kicking you out.

You were out on a call with your training officer, Tim Bradford, he was no doubt an amazing officer, but you also agreed he was hard on his rookies, and for you it hurt because you actually felt like you two were pretty close, most times not having to communicate with each other on calls, you both just understood the other. "God Damnit, Boot! RUN! The suspect is running!" He screamed as he took off over the fence, you snapped back into reality, taking off in a sprint to cut off the drug dealer on the other side of the alley, but as you rounded the corner, you saw that Tim had already gotten him apprehended, and you could tell by the deadly glare he gave you, you were on his chopping block. You followed behind silently as he shoved the guy into the back of your guys' shop, slamming the back door before taking a long deep breath "O-Officer Bradford I can-" He cut you off by walking away to the driver side "I don't give a shit get in" He snapped as he slammed his door, you gulped down tears as you took your seat in the passenger, he didn't speak a single word the entire way back to the station.

As you booked your suspect you made your way over to John sighing "I think I screwed things up with Bradford" You sighed slumping against the wall "I'm sorry, hey maybe we can get drinks after shift? Sorry Harper and I are about to leave on a huge lead, talk when-" He couldn't finish his sentence before your fate was sealed "Rookie! The shop! Now!" Bradford shouted from the garage door, you rushed over, holding your service belt to keep anything from falling out while you jogged, as you loaded into the shop you held your breath, waiting for the lecture. "So..should I just..shoot you now?" He asked, his tone dripping with anger "W-what?..why?" You asked, confused on why'd he'd ever need to shoot you "Because what if that suspect had a weapon?! part of being a cop is always staying vigilant! and you failed today!" he shouted, his hand smacking against the steering wheel, out of instinct from the last week you flinched towards the door, your hand immediately popping to the door handle ready to run. Tim took notice, he just didn't want to see you hurt or worse, especially under his watch..not that he cared about you..or anything.

Tim didn't see you the next day, you had showed up early to request a temporary T.O change, you just felt like you had crossed a line with Bradford and it'd be better to just give him space. Tim on the other hand was stressed the entire shift, making sure to listen to any radio calls from you or Detective Harper, not that he cared..or anything.. John had taken notice of Tim obvious behavior change "Forgive me if i'm wrong, but you're kinda acting like you care about y/n, alot" He suggested watching as Bradford shot him a dirty glare pulling up on scene to come in as back-up for you. "Listen here, rookie, I do not care for y/n, I am doing my job, They needed back-up, we're responding" He snapped getting out, following in behind you and Harper.

You sighed changing into your street clothes and heading to your car, trying to avoid Tim at any chance "Boot! Real quick!" You heard his voice shout as you went to open your car door "Listen, about yesterday-" You cut him off "Officer Bradford, really it's no big-" it was his turn to cut you off "It is, I lost my cool, and as a cop, training officer...and..friend..it wasn't okay" He admitted "So I'm sorry" You sighed "Tim, it's okay, I just figured you needed space, now I gotta get home, get some stuff handled" You smiled before getting in your car, starting it up.

Before you could realize you were home, you slowly approached the steps, still keeping your hand on your service belt, you had taken your belt home with you, signing it out just incase things went sideways. As you opened the door you could immediately tell something was off, the tv was on but muted, the stove was still on high with a boiling pot of some type of weird liquid, it wasn't just that though, you could sense something was bad, you slowly pulled up your radio, trying to stay quiet "This is Officer Y/n l/n badge number 49336, I need a cruiser sent to 39213 hollywood avenue for assistance in eviction" Tim heard you over his own radio at home, immediately running to his truck "Dispatch, This is Officer Tim Bradford Badge number 34831, please clock me in for duty, responding to Officer l/n's back call" He said into his radio as he sped to your address, knowing damn well something was happening.

You didn't even make it to your bedroom before you were body slammed into your hallway wall, you roommate yanking your gun out of your holster taking aim "You stupid bitch!" He shouted, you gulped, raising your hands as you tried to back into the wall further like it could hide you from the danger that was right in front of you. "L-Listen, We don't have to do it like this, you can just put the-" He cut you off by firing you gun, you couldn't feel the bullet bust into your stomach like you always thought, you just felt the stabbing burning pain it left as it went through your body. You fell to the ground watching as your roommate rushed to you pressing his hands down on your wound "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean t-too" He shouted, you went into flight or fight, only remembering your training, you could hear Bradford shouting in your head 'take out the threat, rookie!' You reached the gun that he dropped next to the both of you, quickly firing two shots into his chest watching him fall back, you let your body go limp, taking a deep breath, closing your eyes, exhausted from everything that had happened that day.

Tim rushed in, two other on-duty uniforms following behind "You two clear the main rooms, I'll go in the back, check the bedrooms, she's gotta be here somewhere" He demanded, pulling his phone out calling your cell phone still holding his gun in the air as he cleared the rooms, dropping his phone whenever he saw the bottom of your work boot peeking around the corner of the hallway, a tiny trail of blood slowly running to Bradford's shoe "Y/n!" He shouted "I need an RA! Now!" He screamed, he wasn't concerned for your roommate at all, it was obvious you had lost a lot of blood, your uniform was soaked through, the white patches showing your rank were now dark red, along with your hair. He never left your side, he was the one preforming CPR until your pulse was back, he was the one by your bedside for two weeks, he was the first person you saw whenever you woke up.

You slowly opened your eyes, letting them adjust to the dark room, the bright wall clock telling you it was a little past one in the morning, as you looked around you jumped seeing a body sprawled out on a hospital bed somewhat close to yours, he couldn't of made it, you shot him repeatedly. You could hear your heart monitors beep increase as you went over every possibility of him living, there was no way, right as you thought you were going to pass out, the door opened with a nurse and doctor, and the man near you sprung awake, you were met with a shirtless Tim Bradford, with messy hair, that was normally always styled perfectly. "Look who's up" The doctor greeted as Tim bolted to your bedside "You're alright, boot, you were shot, but we got there just in time, you okay" He explained, you were slowly calming down, still confused on how you ended up shot, last thing you remembered you were finishing up a call with Tim about a robbery.

Tim explained everything over the course of the rest of the night, slowly he moved from his 'bed' to the chair next to your bed, to next to you in your bed as you both watched one of the uniform's bodycam footage per your request. Tim's eyes were on you the entire time, worried about how you may react seeing your own body basically dead, your eyes stayed glued on the scene, not realizing your smile peeked out a little seeing Tim already waiting by your door, his truck basically parked on your porch. Your body froze seeing the footage veer around your hallway to reveal the bloody scene, your eyes chose to focus on something other than the trauma that was everywhere "were you...holding me crying, Bradford?" You asked turning to look at him smirking "No! I was not crying! you couldn't tell but it was raining" He said, he couldn't help but smile at you "Fine! but..you weren't..you weren't awake! I-I thought I lost my first rookie on my watch" He explained trying to write it off as not caring that much about you still.

You just leaned into his shoulder pushing him a bit "Don't lie Bradford" You giggled, to your surprise he just sighed wrapping his arm around you "You scared me good..don't do it again..please.." He whispered pressing a kiss to the top of your head, holding onto you tight for the rest of night.

don't worry my children there will be a part two with so much more fluff and sappy Bradford, I just needed some good backstory lore ;)

[rottenpumpkin13]

I find it so hilarious that due to the shenanigans that happens in the tower, since mayor Domino has a security cameras everywhere, I can't imagine the things he sees and they're all funny as hell.

Out Of Context Things Mayor Domino Has Witnessed Through Security Cameras:

• Sephiroth, poised and disciplined, strolling through the SOLDIER floor calmly. Until he abruptly pivots into a broom closet, where the security feed catches a single, deafening "FUCK!" He then emerges, perfectly composed, like nothing happened.

• Reeve Tuesti, at 3 AM, roaming the halls in a full-body cat onesie, shaking two pill bottles like maracas.

• Zack sprinting full-speed down the hallway, screaming bloody murder. Moments later, Angeal appears in hot pursuit, wielding a buzzing electric toothbrush like a weapon, dental floss clutched in his other hand like he's about to lasso a runaway horse.

• Reno, walking at his usual lazy pace, cigarette in mouth, completely unbothered—until he spots a Sephiroth cardboard cutout in the hallway. He immediately looks left, looks right, then leans in and kisses it way too passionately before walking off like nothing happened.

• Genesis dramatically recounting gossip on the phone, gesturing wildly. Mayor Domino didn't catch the full story, but the part he did hear went "And then she slathered the honey on her breasts, which INFURIATED him, which is why he quit veganism. But that's unrelated to why he beat up his cousin with a block of salami."

• Rude, entering an elevator alone. No words, no hesitation. He reaches into his blazer pocket, pulls out a perfectly styled wig, and wears it for the entire elevator ride, staring straight ahead. The second the doors open, he removes it and pockets it again.

• Hours upon hours of footage of Lazard flipping off President Shinra every time he thinks no one's watching. Mayor Domino has seen so much of this footage that he printed out screenshots and made a mosaic collage of Lazard's middle fingers. It's framed in his office.

• Tseng caught on camera standing completely still in the break room, drinking coffee, when Reno enters and opens the fridge. Without breaking eye contact, Tseng casually says "That pudding is mine." Reno, unfazed, takes the pudding out. Tseng calmly draws a gun.

• Zack jumping from the ceiling vents, dusting himself off. Then he looks back up, spreads his arms wide, and coos "Come on, buddy, I got you! It's okay!" Mayor Domino expected a human. Maybe Cloud Strife. Instead, a giant rat leaped from the vents, lovingly into Zack's arms.

• Genesis, striding down the hallway, suddenly stopping. His gaze lands on a fire alarm. He stares at it. Long. Hard. The security feed shows him sighing deeply, pulling a religious book from his coat, and reading a verse about temptation aloud. Then, with a satisfied nod, he smooths his coat, flips his hair, and walks away. Exactly one minute later, he comes sprinting back, yanks the fire alarm, and flees the scene.

• Angeal, in the break room, just trying to enjoy some peace and quiet. The door swings open. Cait Sith waddles in cheerfully. "A good day tae be alive ain't it, lad? Ye know, in th' grand scheme o' things, assassinating President Shinra would be a real power move!" Angeal bursts into laughter—unhinged, exhausted laughter—like a man finally breaking under the weight of his reality. Still chuckling, he reaches into his pocket, pulls out a bottle of sleep meds, pops two like they're breath mints, and leans back against the chair.

• Angeal, Sephiroth, and Genesis standing before the training room doors. This was after Lazard banned them after their last "incident." The security feed shows them hijacking the access panel, bypassing the lock, and triumphantly striding inside. Exactly ten seconds later, the doors reopen. All three exit with their hands in the air. Escorting them out is Lazard, shotgun in hand.

• Zack and Cloud enter an elevator together, alone. The doors close. The security feed catches Zack saying: "Now that we're alone… you know what we can do, right?" Domino thinks he might need to avert his eyes. But then, without hesitation, Zack clambers into Cloud's arms like a toddler.

• Sephiroth and Hojo, approaching each other from opposite hallways. They're destined to meet at the corner. Until they don't. The footage clearly shows Sephiroth stopping mid-stride, eyes narrowing. He has sensed something. A disturbance. Evil. The next second, he yeets himself out a nearby window.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

so i know the amandafiles sneasler rant went pretty viral on here, but the real highlights of her pokemon legends arceus playthrough were her unhinged volo-related rants. this one is probably my favorite but there were many and i will absolutely clip and transcribe (not by hand i'm not that insane) more of them if asked

transcript under the cut:

Yeah. So, um, I'm just kind of leaving the scene of the crime now. And hopefully Adaman is still interested. That's all I have to say. Yeah, that's my statement at this time. Thank you. Thank you! Yeah, mhm. Bye.

Like, what. Is Volo gonna fucking pop out at me from the shadows over here? Is anybody around to talk to me? Like, about what just happened?

(Sees Melli.) Not what I meant, but um, you know what? Fuck it, Melli, guess what just happened. So, you know that guy Volo? Basically, like, we were talking, right? It was actually going pretty well. You know, just like this nerd, and he was like, so cute and so, like, excited about history and stuff, and, like, I was really feeling that, you know, and I dunno, he was, like, my champion. He was there for me when no one else was. He, like, picked me up off the ground at my lowest point. He was always cheering me on. He was always, like, hyping me up to other people. Wouldn't that be awesome, Mellie, if like someone ever did that for you? Not that that would ever happen, of course, but, like, can you imagine, like, someone being out there being like, "yes, like, that's the one, like, that's my girl. She's been doing it like, she's working so hard." That was Volo for me.

Melli, imagine my surprise when I go up to the mountain there because—we did this whole thing. Basically, I'm an important person. You wouldn't really understand. I, like, collected all these artifacts. I thought we were going to, like, do this thing that was important to, like, the history of the world.

But turns out Volo was fucking insane. And, like, no, I truly mean that, like crazy and saying he was like, a totally different person. He had been cosplaying as a normie the entire time. He's really a serial killer, I think. He's like a lunatic, right? Like, a cringey one. He did his hair. So he, like, is obsessed with Arceus. Right. The god pokémon. And Arceus, like—have you ever seen a picture of him? I'll pull it up on my Arc Phone real quick. He's got these, like, horns that come back and stuff. Bitch, he did his HAIR like this. AHH! I know. I got, like, a little picture of it. Look at him! An entire bottle of American Crew.

He, like, totally thought he ate that, but, like, he didn't. It looked so bad, but, like, that was the least of it. He was—his eyes got crazy. He was wearing, like, bright green capris and gladiator sandals. AHH! Melli, I know. it was fucked up. You know, it's like how quickly they change when you find out, like, what they really were after and what they really want. It was stunning. Startling, Melli, it's really like—have you ever had, like, an experience like that before with a guy? Probably not, since you're so insufferable and, like, you probably have never had anyone show interest in you before, platonically or otherwise, but maybe, like, read a book or something where that happened. That happened to me. That happened to me today.

I really had a huge crush on this guy. Like, to the point where I thought he was the one, Melli, I really did. I was like, ready to leave this whole place with him. Travel the world, and I won't lie to you, um… if he had been like, "Hey, you want to be crazy together? You want to be crazy with me?" I might have done it. I might have also tried that lifestyle out for a minute. I would have tried, like, the villain arc thing out… but lucky for you, it didn't work out. Otherwise, you would have been right on the top of my list. But anyway, yeah, I ended up, like, totally embarrassing him. We did a pokémon battle and he just fucking violently lost.

And then he teamed up with, like, the satan pokémon? It was weird. And they tried their little thing. It was cute. It was very cute. You know, I have to give it—it was camp, It was cute, it was like rehearsed. There was some choreography. It was cute, but obviously they lost horribly. But anyway, yeah, that's, uh. That's how my Tuesday's going. And I'm going to stop you there, Melli, because I really don't care. This wasn't an open invitation for you to talk. I just wanted to let someone know what had just happened.

[itsnathateasy]

aot characters and "will you be my valentine?"❣️

word count: 1,8k warnings: mentions of alcohol includes: eren, armin, jean, connie, reiner, bertholdt, ymir, levi, hange, erwin a/n: DON’T COME AT ME i’m not really a fan of valentine’s day either, but i hope i did a decent job with this short thingy here hehe! enjoy!

In all honesty, Eren never expected you to ask him to be your valentine and I don’t think he had any plans of asking you either. “We’re already dating, right? We’re each other’s valentines by default!” “Yes, buuut why not make it a little more special?” and then you’d present him with the most ridiculous valentine’s day gift you could lay your hands upon. I’m talking festive underwear, socks with your face printed on them and those silly cards with hearts popping when you open them. Eren isn’t the type to be surprised, let alone show it. But you got him there, and you got him good. He can’t contain his laughter at your silly gifts and he’s honestly so happy to receive them! And even though “you’re each other’s valentines by default” (smh eren🤦) he did get you a gift. It’s been wrapped and waiting for you in your side of the closet, right behind your shoe boxes. Did I mention it’s been in there for the past two weeks or so? Yeah, Eren is so pathetic for you, but he’s trying his hardest not to let it show.

You probably know this already, but Armin asked you to be his valentine in the cutest way. He handmade you a card, a quite elaborate one too, and he wrote a long ass message about how much he loves and appreciates you. He left it on your bedside table for you to find the moment you wake up, because he sadly had to leave earlier than usual. When you texted him a while later that you saw the card and that it was the sweetest thing, he had your favourite coffee and cinnamon rolls delivered to your door with the promise that “there’s more to come, this day is for you only!” The rush he was getting from spoiling you like this was insane. What could you possibly do to top his actions? It was barely 9 a.m. and Armin had already managed to surprise you twice! It made you feel like the gift you got him and the dinner reservations you’d made weren’t good enough. No matter what you’d came up with, he surely had something even greater planned. The troubles of dating a literal mastermind I guess!

Mikasa didn’t want to celebrate valentine’s day. She really didn’t want to. But then she realised you kept giving her hints about gift ideas and that you ‘had a surprise for her’ for that evening and the signs were too overwhelming to ignore. Okay, if it’s that important to you, she’d celebrate it as well. She didn’t really know where to begin at first, but, thank heavens for pinterest, she quickly navigated herself around the do’s and dont’s of valentine’s day. When you came back home, your house looked like a florist’s. Mikasa had bought a bunch of bouquets and pots and she added ribbons and hearts on basically every single item you’d ever owned. “I thought you didn’t like valentine’s day, Mikasa! What’s all this?” You honestly couldn’t believe your eyes! “Are they enough? Should I have gotten more?” For someone who was doing this for the first time, she’d exceeded all expectations!

Now, Jean… WHERE DO I BEGIN?? The boy cooked big time! Bought you a gift. Orchestrated an entire fake emergency to get you to meet him and the most romantic spot in the city and pulled his grand gesture of asking you to be his valentine. He hired drones DO YOU HEAR ME? He wanted you to remember this day! (Even though he keeps pulling grander and grander gestures each year, he wants to document EVERYTHING!). He’s doing his best to recreate scenes taken out from fairytales and plant those core memories inside your brain. He’s probably booked a restaurant too, but, to be honest with you, the entire set up he managed to create, was enough of a gift. It didn’t matter if there was a date afterwards. Waaaait… Why is your house decorated too? And why is it bursting with boxes as if it’s Christmas??? Jean’s gone overboard… AGAIN!

Connie was a bit of an ass this valentine’s date, but you can’t really blame him. He’s seen into the future and he knows his plan is bulletproof. He never asked you to be his valentine and when you asked him (rather late for your liking too, but you were really expecting him to do it first!), he said he had plans with the guys. No, for real. He wouldn’t budge. Said they’d been going over this for days. You were quite upset with him, but whatever. A galentine’s it was! Little did you know he’d made sure to let the girls know about his plan! While you were working on your galentine’s, Connie was preparing a themed date based on your favourite film/show! He’d altered the placing of your furniture (don’t expect juicy time after dinner, his back is killing him), he’s put up themed decorations, has the film/show waiting for you on the tv and even created a three course meal inspired by it! And he made all the drinks himself. Honestly, kudos to him, cause the hours he’d spent checking recipes were endless! You were so upset when the girls 'cancelled' on you last minute. You did the walk of shame home, utterly disappointed and expecting to find it empty, but… You couldn’t have asked for a greater valentine’s date!

You don’t have to ask Reiner, but he won’t ask you either. His actions speak volumes and as soon as he realises you want to celebrate valentine's day, it’s literally game over. He’s got the table set and he’s ordered your favourite. There’s flowers and balloons all over the place and he’s got some soft music playing in the background. Oh and that cute lingerie you spotted the other day while window shopping together? Yeah, that’s kind of been laying on your bed. I wonder who put it there. Reiner has plans to breach that wall, you know? Anyway, he’s being really cute about and he even made you a card! Yes, he diy’ed it! It’s the ugliest effing thing, but it’s also the sweetest valentine’s gift you’ve received in your entire life. Who else would put all this time into a single card? Reiner is acting like a schoolboy when it comes to you and you love him for it!

You and Bertholdt had a silent agreement to celebrate this day, but not go too overboard with it. The last thing you both wanted was to do all those cliché things people do on valentine’s. You’d made reservations at one of your favourite restaurants, that was quite fancy too, and simply treated yourselves to your favourite foods and some good wine. It was a lovely night overall, nothing too crazy about it, but it was the way you both liked it. You were spending time together and that was the most important thing! Except Bertholdt kinda gave in and bought you a heart-shaped chocolate box. And a heart-shaped plushie. But that’s all, he promised! He looked so precious when he admitted to ‘breaking’ his part of the deal, but that cute face was the most memorable part of your evening!

Ymir would celebrate with you, but she’d give you a hard time about it. She was determined to make you regret it. She’d probably do her best to prank you any way that she could by sending you flowers and addressing them to the wrong person or by buying you a box of candy she very well knew you disliked. Now, why would she do that you may ask. She just didn’t want you to expect the actual surprise she’d planned for you. What better way to keep you on your feet, right? And although her pranks weren’t really appreciated (you did fight about that ‘wrong name on the card’ situation) you really didn’t expect the surprise and that made it all the more special! She even baked you a cake and decorated it herself! You honestly thought you weren’t going to celebrate at all! Who would’ve thought that Ymir was simply playing games, right?

I’m so sorry, but Levi would never ask you to be his valentine. Such manifestations of affection were just pointless in his eyes, but that doesn’t mean he’ll refrain from making you happy. He’s just choosing not to participate in such a materialistic, capitalistic WHO SAID THAT holiday. He knows that it’s important to you though, so he makes sure he gives you extra care and attention today. When you returned home, you weren’t really expecting much. You’d bought some chocolate and a special edition valentine’s tea for you and Levi to try. But instead of finding a boyfriend who didn’t want to participate in the trend, Levi was running you a warm bath and had lit up a bunch of pretty candles. You smiled so big when you saw the set up! “Can we also have a cup of tea together?” “But that’s it, do we have a deal?”

Hange was so excited when you asked them! You could tell by how vividly their eyes sparkled, their excitement was the most precious thing! You decided to organise an activity together, you know, in order not to give in into those overconsumption trends. What are you if not against the system, right? You decided to book a day trip to the botanical garden or maybe a local animal sanctuary. And what an idea, because you never thought there’d be so many things to do there! Hange even surprised you with a gift, even though you’d said you wouldn’t get each other any. This gift doesn’t really count though, because they crocheted you a jumper and they spent so much time making it. (They started knitting in early January! Can you believe their dedication!?) When you came back home after a beautiful, yet tiring day, you decided to bake brownies. You hadn’t realised you’d barely eaten during the day and a sweet treat was what you both needed! It was a unique valentine’s date!

Okay, listen, Erwin is upset you asked him. He had it all planned out! Why did you have to be so impatient and ask him to be your valentine first? (He’s not really upset, he just wanted to be the man). And also, let’s be honest here, Erwin is a provider man. You get a little treat for every day leading up to the 14th and, of course, he’s booked a table at your favourite restaurant, bought you the fanciest jewellery and the loveliest attire like??? WHO IS HE? I just KNOW he’s the guy to also leave you a printed invitation on your night stand, telling you where you should meet him for your valentine’s date. He’s the most cliché of them all, but he’s never failed so far, has he? Consider yourself spoiled for the entirety of the week. And who knows, maybe longer even. That’ll depend if you’re good for him I’m afraid.

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[marybatson]

BILLY BATSON WEEK 2025

It’s that time of the year again! 2025 marks the 85th Anniversary of Billy Batson as Captain Marvel debuting in Whiz Comics #2, the first official cover-dated issue released February 1940.*

A brief history In December of 1939, children at newsstands were picking up a particular issue with the cover of a flying man dressed in red, effortlessly lifting a car overhead. Bill Parker, senior editor at Fawcett Comics during this time, had developed a new kind of superhero: Billy Batson is a young orphan boy who transforms into a powerful champion named Captain Marvel at the drop of the word “SHAZAM!” He fights crime against notable villains together with a memorable cast of heroes he calls “family.”

A few years past their heyday, Fawcett Publications endured troubling legal problems that put their sales in jeopardy, eventually settling their dragging copyright case with National Comics Publications (predecessor of modern-day DC Comics) and putting Captain Marvel to rest indefinitely. The Captain’s return to comics happened in late 1972 under DC Comics, a run which the original artist C.C. Beck had worked on for only a year. Ever since, Billy Batson and his counterpart have appeared in many different iterations in many different comics, one of the only memories still enduring from a time already passed.

NOSTALGIA

The role of an archive is to make nostalgia obsolete. [...] Every comic book page is, like a work of scholarship, an act of recovery, or at times a dream in which nothing is ever lost, as past, present, and future make room for each other and exist in harmony. Studied carefully, a fanzine or a comic book, like Billy’s Historama, might reveal several lifetimes to us, one generation after another of names, faces, and stories. The art of nostalgia is figuring out which one to tell next.

— Captain Marvel and the Art of Nostalgia, Brian Cremins

This year’s overall theme is NOSTALGIA. Take this as you might, for however you interpret nostalgia—perhaps a reflection on your own personal narrative with Billy Batson, or an exploration between him and his own massive history, be it in-universe or with real life pop culture. You might even disregard the day-to-day prompts below and dedicate yourself to nostalgia thematically for the entire week! How you’d like to work with it is up to you.

Day 1 ☆ February 23, 2025 HOLY HISTORAMA

The Historama, similar to a crystal ball, is described as Shazam the Wizard’s “super-television screen,” of which he may use to see the past, present, and future. In later iterations, it presents itself as a book or object that displays any scene through time and, possibly, space. On this day, you might center the Historama itself, or explore any scenes of Billy’s history from any time or place.

Day 2 ☆ February 24, 2025 THE BOY OF ARTHURIAN LEGEND

Bill Parker, when asked to describe his inspiration for Captain Marvel, once said, “Specifically I got it from the Stories of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, stories with which I had been familiar and read as a child.”

At its core, the story of Billy Batson as Captain Marvel was a story about old wizards, spells, myths, and secrets—elements which children center their greatest fantasies and perhaps still carry with them throughout adulthood. Use this day to commemorate Billy Batson as a fulfilled fantasy, maybe as a knight facing dragons in some faraway world or a space-wandering sailor, the wildest childhood dream come true.

Day 3 ☆ February 25, 2025 SWEET HOME FAWCETT

This prompt is simply Fawcett: Fawcett Comics and their previous publications, possibly outside of Captain Marvel and friends, or Fawcett the city as depicted in the DC Comics iterations, home base of Billy and Captain Marvel.

Day 4 ☆ February 26, 2025 RETURN OF THE CHAMPION

Across his storied history, Captain Marvel has faced many setbacks in his journey back to comic book stands: previous lawsuits and settlements, harried DC Comics events, logistical decisions made behind closed doors. However many times he’s put on the back burner, Captain Marvel still manages to return in a triumph. We will see him again in fleeting appearances, celebrated homecomings, maybe a long-awaited reunion...

Day 5 ☆ February 27, 2025 THE WORLD HE LIVES IN

It is of note that, while Fawcett Comics held onto its hero as long as they could for the first few years, the DC Comics universe is where Billy and the Captain have held their home—for over fifty consecutive years. Use this as a day to reflect on Billy’s past DC universe adventures, from teams he’s been on to events he’s partaken in.

Day 6 ☆ February 28, 2025 A MARVELOUS FAMILY

Billy Batson’s not the only one with a candle to blow. Mary Marvel debuted in 1942, while Captain Marvel Junior had appeared much earlier, in 1941. Their contributions to the stories of Captain Marvel have been monumental in immortalizing his place as a beloved hero with weight and history. They are also deeply adored by Billy himself. Have this day to celebrate family, for each Marvel Family member who has added to the menagerie over the years, or to simply center Mary and Freddy and their own achievements.

Day 7 ☆ March 1, 2025 HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BILLY

Happy Birthday Billy Batson! Give him a cake. Give him a balloon. Give him a present. Tell him how much you appreciate him. He is eighty-five years old. He looks timeless! Is the secret the amber from the Sivana suspendium?

This is a free day, open for anything.

How to participate On Tumblr (and elsewhere, if desired), use the hashtags #billybatsonweek and #bb85week simultaneously so that others might see and engage with your work. Late entries are always, always welcome. I’ll be sure to reblog all entries inside the tags for archival reasons, so please don’t hesitate to tag my blog!

The Archive of Our Own story collection is linked here.

On previous weeks Feel free to browse entries from previous years for inspiration, or reuse the old prompts altogether!

2022 Prompts Post / 2022 Entries

2023 Prompts Post / 2023 Entries

2024 Prompts Post / 2024 Entries / AO3 Collection

*FOOTNOTE: Captain Marvel/Billy Batson celebrated his genuine 85th Anniversary December 2024, a date which acknowledges his original on-the-shelves debut in December of 1939. The cover date used in this character celebration week corresponds with what DC Comics used in their 75th Anniversary year count.

[ladsheadcanoncorner]

asking you to be their valentine ♡ lads headcanons

prompt: how the boys will ask you to be their valentine rating: sfw (tooth rotting fluff tbh) cw: eating + mentions of food ✉︎♡: ask box open, tumblr users + anons

Xavier: -In the days leading up to Valentine’s, you haven’t heard from Xavier as much as you normally do -This is because he’s busy grinding at the arcade for the huge plushie you had your eye on last time you went together -He’s good at games and has quick reflexes, but it is like the arcade made this one impossible to win -After many grueling attempts, he finally wins and gets to take it home, just in time to ask you to be his Valentine -He knocks on your door randomly one night, and when you look through the peephole, all you see is a massive bunny plush waving at you -I’m talking as big as you massive -You open the door and Xavier pops out from behind the plushie -Xavier: “I worked really hard for this one, but it was worth it because it’s just as cute as my Valentine.” Me: “Your Valentine, huh?” -The tips of Xavier’s ears pink and he says, “I mean, I was hoping you would be.” -You pull him and the plush bunny into your arms, kissing both on the cheek -The two of you spend the evening finding the perfect place for the plushie and giving it the perfect name

Zayne: -Zayne claims his sweet tooth has been acting up again while the two of you are casually strolling through town -You want to joke with him about the dangers of sugar, but his eyes light up when he sees a chocolate shop at the end of the street -He’s trying not to seem too eager, but he is practically pulling you inside the store -The shopkeep tells you that they are giving out samples for couples, and Zayne lets you go first to pick your favorite one -After you try a few flavors, Zayne says, “Well, is there one you liked best?” -Before you can answer, the shopkeep emerges from the back with a special chocolate in the shape of a heart -The shopkeep hands it to Zayne, and Zayne holds it up for you -You realize that there are words engraved on the chocolate heart that say, “My Valentine has my heart.” -Zayne: “Since you already have my heart, I guess that makes you my Valentine, too?” -Of course you say yes, clutching the chocolate to your chest and standing on your tiptoes to give Zayne a kiss -On the walk home, you decide to freeze it so that you can enjoy a piece of it on every Valentine’s Day to come

Rafayel: -Rafayel has been working on a custom art project for a “rare and special” customer -If you try to ask him about it, he’ll immediately get defensive and makes some variation of “an artist sometimes needs to work in peace” excuse every time -Eventually, you just let him do his thing and forget about it The day before Valentine’s Day, you’re walking along the shores of Whitesand Bay with Raf -At the end of the shoreline, there is a blanket, pillows, strawberries, and champagne set up on the sand -He leads you to the setup and then hands you a flip book -Going through it, each drawing details moments in your relationship, with cute chibi versions of the two of you acting out the scenes -At the end, chibi Rafayel is holding a sign that says, “Will you be my Valentine?” -Before you have the chance to say yes, you look back up at Raf and he is holding the same sign -Rafayel: “Well, what do you say, cutie?” -After you say yes, the two of you watch the sunset and share the strawberries and champagne

Sylus: -Will buy out an entire flower shop just to ask you to be his Valentine He picks you up for dinner, adamant that you can’t go to his place until after the meal is finished -When you arrive at the restaurant, the waiter delivers a bouquet to your table -You: “What exactly are you planning?” Sylus: “Trying to spoil the surprise, sweetie?” -Sylus doesn’t eat as much as he usually does during the dinner, and even though he won’t admit it, you can tell that he is nervous -When you get back to his place, there is a trail of flower petals leading down the long hallway of his estate -You follow them into his bedroom, where the entire room is filled with bouquets of all kinds. Roses, sunflowers, tulips, daisies…wall to wall covered in flowers -And at the middle of it all, Sylus hands you a single red rose and says, “Will you give me the honor of being your Valentine?” -He hoped you would be surprised, but he isn’t expecting you to take the rose out of his hand and jump into his arms -The rest of the night is spent enjoying the elaborate display he put together (and if you’re really lucky, he’ll even wear the flower crown you make him out of one of the bouquets)

Caleb: -You and Caleb are having your weekly dinner night, but he is acting suspicious this time -He won’t let you help in the kitchen, and he even makes you sit on his couch so that you don’t try and take any sneak peeks -You try to guess what the food could possibly be based on the smell alone, and it isn’t until the timer on the oven dings that the room is filled with the delicious cheesy smell of pizza -Caleb, donning two oven mitts and a “kiss the colonel” apron, places the pizza in the center of the table -He calls you into the room, and when you enter, you realize he has transformed the whole kitchen. The table is illuminated by the dim flickering of pink and red candles. There are heart shaped plates on the table, and heart shaped balloons on the ceiling -When you sit down to eat, you realize the pizza has a message for you spelled out in the pepperoni pieces: “VALENTINE?” -Caleb: “What, too cheesy?” -You can’t help but laugh at his dumb joke before agreeing to be his Valentine -The two of you spend the rest of the night eating the pizza together and planning what you’ll do on Valentine’s Day

[frost-queen]

Romancing Mr. Bridgerton (Reader x Benedict Bridgerton)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @floatlosers, @alex–awesome–22  @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown, @wildiefleur , @meyocoko , @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedrava-bitch-187, @erikasurfer , @slythetic  , @eliscannotdance, @p0nycurtis

Swallowing nervously, you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold this position. Having sit down for over an hour now. Feeling the sun bath on your face through the window. You needed to move, your body needed to change before you would actually turn into a statue. Taking a deep breath, you went for it. Turning your head towards the sun like a flower would do. Eyes closed to take in the sunlight for you could use all the sun’s blissful energy right now. – “Uh-uhm!” – you heard loud, making you turn your head. Benedict looking past his easel. Gesturing at you to take on your previous position. It made you sigh annoyingly loud to him.

“Are you nearly done?” – you asked with some irritation. Feeling your nose itch, you were even afraid to scratch it. To not ruin his sketch. Benedict came looking past his easel once more, holding his pencil between his fingers. – “You can’t hurry perfection. It takes a lot more time with you. I have to adjust so much to even make this sketch worthy of appeal.” – he replied with a teasing smile. – “Har har.” – you laughed out dryly. If you didn’t know him this well, you would’ve been insulted. Yet it was just his way of teasing. Throwing in sarcastic and laughing comments to make everything lightful.

Benedict focused back his sketch as you sighed again. – “I heard that.” – he spoke from behind his easel, not even bothered to look around. It made you cross your arms annoyed. Thinking half a second about it before setting back in to your position. Benedict appeared once more from the easel, making you throw him a sarcastic smile back. He smiled sarcastically back at you before gesturing at you to turn your head back right. So you did, watching him disappear behind paper once more.

Your gaze looked around the room to occupy yourself. Needing anything to fight this boredom. Gaze gliding to the side seeing one of his paintbrushes on a low cabinet. Pressing your lips together, you had an interesting idea. Remaining still as Benedict’s head popped up once more. Waiting for him to hide behind his paper once more to snatch the paintbrush. You held it underneath your nose, lips puckered up to keep it there. Now you only had to wait for him to look once more.

Benedict looked past his paper to you. Needing to do a double-check, eyelashes blinking rapidly with surprise. You could barely contain your laughter. Catching the paintbrush in your hands once you laughed loud. – “Was I supposed to find that amusing?” – he said making you roll your eyes at him. Having enough of modelling for him, you jumped off the stool. – “I…I wasn’t done yet.” – Benedict called out. You puffed his comment away, coming to take a look at his progress. Your eyes widening. Cheeks bloating up with anger. – “Benedict!” – you shouted loud slapping him hard against his arm.

“Au.” – he chuckled out. You snatched the paper from the easel to show it up more closely to his face.-  “You have been sketching the fruit bowl beside me this entire time while I sat there still!” – you tried really hard not to freak out, wanting to scold him for making you sit so boringly long with not even a single line of you drawn out. Benedict started to laugh as it angered you even more. Slapping your hand against his shoulder numerous times to punish him. Benedict unable to stop laughing.

“Y/n be gentle with him.” – Anthony said, speaking from the door opening. Having heard some commotion whilst passing, unable to resist looking. Looking upon the scenery of you beating his brother up. – “He!” – you called out pointing firm at Benedict to make your statement. Cheeks bloated from frustration. Sucking in the rest of your words for even though you knew Anthony for a long time now, you would not argue with him. You let go of Benedict so he could straighten his jacket. When Anthony walked out, you threw him an irritated glare. He could only smile annoyingly charming back at you. Having his head tilted, you so wanted to punch him again.

You helped Benedict clean up his sketching material. Collecting paintbrushes from all around. Benedict stood with his back to you, humming whilst putting his pencils back into the long wooden box. Biting your lip you weren’t sure how to say this. Express what you had decided a few days ago and had been wanting to tell him ever since. – “I’m going to do something different this season.” – you said out loud.

“Like what change your hair?” – he added a snort to mock you just that little extra. – “No.” – you replied firm, hands resting on your hips. Taking a deep breath, you let your hands fall to your side. – “I’m going to find myself a husband this season.” – you let out without warning. – “What?” – Benedict responded loud, nearly startling with how loud his voice was. – “It is my third season, Ben.” – you explained leaning back against his desk, looking painfully away.

“It’s my third season too.” – he answered with a shrug. – “But you’re a boy!” – you let out, gesturing at him. – “Man.” – he corrected you with a smug smile. – “Boy.” – you corrected, corrected him with a sarcastic smile. – “Clearly nothing is working for me as I don’t have any men falling over me.” – you told him. – “Would hurt their knees.” – he answered by bringing his knee up with a pained expression. Sighing loud, you sometimes found it irritating that when you tried to be serious, he was trying to make everything funny.

Feeling already too irritated that he wouldn’t listen properly to you, you had enough. Waving your hand to dismiss the conversation. Benedict removed himself from against his table, rushing over to you. Grabbing you by the wrist to stop you from charging out. – “Alright, alright I’m listening.” – he said tugging at you to stay put. You gave him a glare to not make fun anymore. He responded by throwing his hands up in defence. You exhaled deep making him look with actual concern at you. Throwing you those sweetfull eyes with slight furrowed brows. Trying to get a grip of your internal emotions.

“I am just hopeless.” – you let out, catching your face with your hands. – “Nah.” – he responded loud making you look between the gaps of your fingers. Hand slowly lowering at his dazzling smile. He came sliding his arm over you. – “You just need someone to teach you to flirt. To woo men.” – he responded giving your cheek a good poke. – “I don’t need to learn flirting!” – you exclaimed, feeling a bit offended. Benedict clicked his tongue. – “Your flirting is as stiff as a broomstick.” – he answered with a laugh.

You rolled your eyes at him, arms crossing. Hating to admit that he was spot on. Your flirting was bad. If it was any good, you would’ve found a match a few seasons ago. – “But do not worry my dear Y/n.” – he began pressing a hand on his chest. – “I will take the hard task on me to do so.” – smiling nobly back at you. You elbowed him back for that slight mockery that he always slipped in. He doubled over, rubbing his chest watching you take your leave.

The weather had settled with a soft warmness. Birds chirping happily up in the air. Waiting at the side of the gravely path. Waiting for perhaps the worst day of your life. – “Good day Y/n.” – Colin greeted you with a nod. You curtsied back at him, getting pulled back up by your arm by his brother Benedict. – “Alright, alright.” – he waved his brother away. Colin blinked confused, turning on his heel to keep up with his other siblings. You looked surprised down feeling him slap a fan against your chest to accept.

“What… what is this for?” – you asked confused examining the fan. – “To begin your first lesson.” – he replied with a teasing smile. Taking you by the arm to lead you in the opposite direction of his siblings. – “What… what do I have to do.” – you asked tapping the fan against your palm. – “You’re a girl. Flutter your eyelashes and wave your fan. Men are simple creatures. They would fall over a pleasing smile easily.” – he told you. – “Alright I’ll show you.” – you paused turning more towards him.

“No, you will show them.” – Benedict pointed at a few men standing underneath a tree. Chattering. – “Absolutely not.”- you let out already turning around to run away. Benedict knew what you were up to. Grabbing you by the shoulders. – “Come on.” – he forced out, pushing you forwards while you kept protesting. Leaning back against his hands so he couldn’t shove you so easily over to them. – “No, Ben please…” – you begged regretting ever asking. – “Don’t be a baby, you are the one that wanted a man.” – he breathed out, pushing you forwards to the men. You stumbled forwards as the men turned their heads curious at you.

“Gentlemen, I believe you are familiar with miss Y/l/n.” – he addressed. The men tipped their hats at you. You only gawked at them, feeling too shy to do anything. It took an elbow nudge from Benedict to get you started. – “What… what splendid weather… is it not.” – you uttered out, flashing your eyelashes perhaps a bit too much and fanning hard. – “Are… are you quite alright miss Y/l/n?” – one of the men asked. You nodded with a hard swallow. Benedict snatched the fan from you, having enough of your tornado wind coming at you. 

Smiling sheepishly and awkwardly back at them. He grabbed you by the shoulder, leading you away from them. – “Sorry.” – you told him, feeling ashamed. Benedict pinched his nose bridge. – “No, no it’s alright.” – he sighed out. – “We’ll just go again.” – he added. – “What?!” – you called out in a panic. Panic that he would endure this agony on you more. – “Just…” – he started snatching the fan out of your hands. – “no more of this.” – you gasped loud when he threw the fan behind him into the lake. Watching it settle on the surface for a moment before the weight of the water drowned it.

He forced you towards two other gentlemen. Introducing you and encouraging you to flirt with them. – “I… I truly like… your… hat.” – you nearly shouted out the word ‘hat’ for you had no other clue than what to compliment him on. Benedict shook his head, rubbing his fingers over his forehead in disappointment. With another embarrassment, he led you away. Forcing you towards new gentlemen for a third time. This time you could barely utter a word. Feeling extremely shy with five men staring back at you. 

Not able to contain the attention. Stuttering and stumbling over your words like a blathering buffoon. You were relieved that Benedict didn’t drag you for a fourth time to any gentlemen. The first day of lessons was already humiliating enough. So humiliating you immediately left for home. Not even taking the time to greet the other Bridgertons. Needing to get out of here as quickly as possible. To lay down on your bed and wallow in self-pity for how terribly right Benedict was. You were awful at flirting.

Loud muttering deafened out as your hearing couldn’t settle on one voice. Blinking almost tiredly as you stood by the buffet. A presence sliding next to you. – “Lesson number two.” – Benedict said, holding two fingers up. Sighing softly, you turned more to him, listening to what he had to say. – “You my terrible flirter.” – he booped your nose with a teasing smile. – “must talk to five men tonight.” – he finished. – “Five?” – you whined out at how difficult he was making it for you. – “Would you like to have seven then?” – he answered with a cheeky smile.

As a response you gave him a shove. – “Oh and I’ll be watching you Y/n.” – he called out as you had already turned half away. – “Like you have anything else to do.” – you muttered under your breath. Leaving to find five hopeless men to chat with. Feeling Benedict’s presence not far away as you ventured from room to room. Stalking you like a hawk. You found your first victim by the drinks. Approaching him fast.

“Good evening my lord.” – you called out, startling the poor man. Making him choke on his drink as the content splashed up in his face. Staring in shock back at him. He wiped his nose dry, coughing loud. – “I’m so sorry my lord.” – you apologized. Feeling too embarrassed to even continue the conversation. You turned on your heel, meeting briefly with Benedict’s confused gaze. Taking a run for it to venture into another room.

Hoping to get rid of the embarrassment you couldn’t seem to shake. You found another seemingly victim, approaching him with more ease. Laid-back to not give him the fright of his life. – “Good evening my lord.” – you started with a curtsy. The man bowed back at you. – “Lord Morrison, I’ve heard you like dogs is that true?” – you asked to stir up a conversation. The man’s expression turned blank. – “My dog recently died.” – he let you know. Lip quivering as he dropped into loud sobs. – “That… that is unfortunate…” – you answered with awkwardness as you had not expected such a reaction from him.

Foolishly you backed away. – “What happened, what did you say to make the poor man cry.” – Benedict spoke, falling in line with you. – “Apparently his dog died.” – you answered. Seeing how Benedict had to press his lips together to not laugh at that. To not laugh at how much of a fool you had made of yourself. – “Must I really continue this?” – you sighed out, not in the mood for it anymore. – “Yes, you must.” – he answered giving you a little shove to get you back on your path.

So you did trying to complete your task before the end of the night. Filling your evening with walking and mustering up the courage to speak to men. Speak with little effects as seemingly all that you said was not pleasing enough for men to make them fall over you. Utterly exhausted you let yourself drop in a chair. Having lost sight of Benedict. Feet hurting from wandering around for hours. If you could, you would flop your shoes off and rub your pained feet for all to see.

“You must be demanding.” – a man’s voice spoke, catching your sudden attention. Turning to look at the voice, you met up with a gentleman standing beside you. – “I beg your pardon?” – you blurted out, caught off guard. He chuckled deeply, hands shyly folded before him. – “I said you must be demanding.” – he repeated himself. Yet it only raised more questions with you to what he was referring to. He noticed the confusion on your face, gesturing at your feet.

“Your feet are in discomfort. It must be from dancing all night.” – he made himself clear. – “That is where you are wrong my lord.” – you replied with a smile. – “Is that so?” – he answered intrigued. You hummed loud, showing him your dance card. Dangling emptily from your wrist with a cord. – “Good gracious!” – he blurted out. – “These men must truly be blind then.” – he added. You fluttered confused with your eyelashes when he took your dance card in his hand. – “To not ask a fine lady as yourself for a dance.” – you watched as he wrote his name down.

You retrieved your hand, admiring the name on your dance card. The first ever name written down. – “If your feet allow you, I would very much like that dance.” – he spoke. You jumped up out of excitement. – “They allow it.” – answering with euphoria. The man laughed at your silliness. Taking your hand to lead you up to the dance floor. Coming to stand before you.

You greeted him before the music started. Violins and cello’s filling the room with their notes. Both of you stepped forwards, meeting there to step back. Stepping forwards once more to change positions, crossing with your backs at each other. Facing each other once more. Meeting again to come nearer with your side at his and back. He took your arms, letting you turn underneath them. When you weren’t facing him, you pressed your lips together to supress a wide smile. Filled with joy that a gentleman was dancing with you.

Benedict had been searching for you. For one moment, he had his attention drawn away. Only to find you nowhere near when he turned back. Now he roamed the halls wonderingly in search of you. Following the strokes of violins and cello’s. Entering one of the big halls. Finding his brother at the side-line. Gently pushing a man out of the way by his shoulder, he made his way over.

“Colin have you seen Y/n?” – he panted out. Colin pointed forwards, making his brother turn his head to look. Eyes widening on spotting you on the dance floor. With another man. Watching you waltz with someone. Turn and press your back against his chest. Compelled to stand at the side-line and watch. Watch one of his closest friends share a dance, with a smile on her face.

“Aren’t you happy.” – Colin said nudging his brother in the side. Benedict smiled forced back at him. Unsure what to feel, but happiness was not the feeling he would describe. Staring unsettling back. Overwhelmed by something he could not name. The only thing that seemed clear was that it disgusted him. That he felt the urge to pull you away. To yell at you to stop for whatever possessed you. Tensing his jaw ever so lightly he wasn’t sure he could supress his expressions. Having a sense of passing out, he took a stumbling step backwards.

“Are you quite alright brother?” – Colin questioned. Benedict swiped his hand across his forehead, feeling that it was sweaty. Not wanting to explain himself to his brother, he took his leave. Disappearing into the crowd in the hopes to drown out the events from just now. Finding his way to the outdoors, the wind gave him a cold shock. Bringing him back to reality. He grabbed on tight to the railing of the balcony. Laughing loud. Laughing at how silly he was being. Silly for actually feeling bothered by it.

Was it not his intention to help you. Was it not why he chose to do so. Laughing even more at himself for being so ridiculous. You were only Y/n. Just Y/n that he had known almost his entire life. So why did it bother him then? After the dance, you searched for Benedict to let him know the great news. To show him your dance card with the man’s name on it. To show him you weren’t a complete failure this season. Yet no matter how thoroughly you searched, you did not find him. You guessed that was the end of his lesson. Returning to your parents afterwards to leave for home.

You stretched yourself out, coming to lay down on the blanket. Staring up at the clear blue skies with a satisfying exhale. – “Lord Kingsley came to my house this morning. He brought flowers for my mama.” – you spoke turning your head to the side. Looking upon Benedict’s face as he laid beside you. He sighed deep, still looking up to the heavens. – “That is what a true gentleman does. Oh and he likes chocolate too, admires poets just like you.” – you nudged Benedict in the side with your elbow.

He barely moved, staring bothered in front of him. He sighed soft, turning his head to you. – “You have been annoyingly charmed by him.” – he let out with a sarcastic smile. It made you click your tongue. Benedict moved his finger up, pressing it against your cheek. Pushing against it, forcing you to tilt your face away from him. He was too bothered to even look upon you. Sighing loud, you were looking back at the clear skies. Curling up a smile. – “Stop it.” – Benedict spoke. – “With what?” – you answered. – “You are thinking of him, stop it.” – he made himself clearer.

You exhaled deep, coming to sit up straight. – “You are no fun.” – you told him. Benedict came up as well, mimicking your words with childish mockery. Leading to you to give him another shove and get up. Taking your leave from him as you didn’t need his mockery today. Benedict sighed disappointed with himself that he had chased you away. That was not his intention. He just couldn’t stop himself from vexing over Lord Kingsley whenever you spoke of him.

Benedict clasped his hands together to rub any dirt off. A shadow falling over him. Blocking out the sun on his back. With furrowed brows, he turned around to look. Only to find lord Kingsley to his annoyance. Benedict got up, collecting the blanket from the ground. – “What do you want?” – he called out bitsy. The lord cleared his throat nervously. – “You are friends with miss Y/n are you not.” – he asked. – “Yes.” – Benedict replied harsh. Ready to take his leave as he could not stand to be in this man’s presence any longer. Yet Lord Kingsley moved to block out his path.

“I… I was wondering if you could assist me in a matter.” – Lord Kingsley asked fumbling with his hands. – “What matter?” – Benedict let out, carrying the blanket under his armpit. – “I…I heard you are exceptionally good with words… I was wondering if you would perhaps guide me into writing a poem for miss Y/n.” – He offered. Practically begged for him to help. Benedict could only stare blankly at him. Needing to process his request till he fully understood it. An immediate response coming out.

“No!” – loud and clear. – “I…I beg your pardon?” – the lord stuttered out, caught back by his harsh response. – “No!”- Benedict repeated, bumping hard against his shoulder. Storming off before he would wrestle the man. His patience had taken a peak as he couldn’t take it anymore. He had one conclusion. He couldn’t stand Lord Kingsley and he couldn’t stand that he was with you. Dropping the blanket with his mother and siblings, he went to search for you. Search for you, for he wanted you to know the truth. Know the truth about Lord Kingsley.

He found you near the woods. Staring mindlessly at the ducks in the lake further away. – “Benedict?” – you called out when he grabbed you roughly by your arm. Pushing you, dragging you away from any meaningless eyes. Forcing you underneath a willow tree away from society’s prying eyes. – “What is going on with you!” – you shouted, forcing your arm free. Benedict was panting. Unable to keep his eyes away from you. – “That man is a fraud!” – he let out, pointing somewhere beside him. – “Wh… who is?” – unsure to who he was referring too.

“Lord Kingsley.” – he spitted out his name with disgust. His reaction made you scoff loud, turning away in utter disbelieve that he would react this childish. – “You simply cannot comprehend that I for once am wanted.” – you told him. Benedict grabbed you firmly by the arm, forcing you to look at him. – “Comprehend? Comprehend? He speaks of poetry yet cannot even fantom himself to utter a single word. To lay down his feelings with compelling words that flutter your heart.” – he exclaimed, eyes scanning yours desperately for understanding.

“Like you?” – you answered a bit rude. Benedict gave your arm another tug, not wanting you to look away. Forcing you to keep your gaze locked. Captured as there was no escape. His eyes staring longingly back at you. – “What is it truly to admire a woman!” – he called out. His words catching you by the throat, making you nearly jump out of your skin. – “To look at her and feel inspiration?” – he added in a more settling tone.

“To delight in her beauty… so much so… that all your defences crumble…” – his eyes venturing down at your lips. Settling there for a moment before he flashed them back up. – “that you would willingly take on any pain… any burden for you.” – he spoke taking a step closer to you. Touching your arm with his hand. – “To honour your being.” – he breathed out. – “With my deeds and words.” -  raising his hand to let his knuckles brush against your cheek. A heavy breath released from your lips, feeling a tug in your chest. Having the need to swallow to dampen the thoughts flashing your mind.

“For that is what a true poet would say.” – he spoke letting his hand rest there. His gaze flashing down to your lips once more. – “For that is what I say to you.” – he corrected himself. Your gaze lowered on his lips as well. Feeling your heart beat loudly in your chest. Relieved that it could not fall out of your chest. – “Ben…” – you whispered out leaning unconsciously closer to him.

Yearning for his lips on yours. Nearly feeling his breath on yours. Benedict allowed his other hand to hold your cheek. Cherishing your face in his palms. – “For you are all my inspiration Y/n.” – he whispered out before closing his eyes. Decreasing the distance between you. Letting his lips find yours. Pressing them gently on yours. Allowing them to settle there for a moment. Retrieving them with a shuddering breath.

Then his lips crashed down on yours once more. Craving more of you than he could ever imagine. Lips kissing you deeper, more rougher as you followed his pace. Grabbing for his back to let your fingers draw deep over his back. Needing him close, closer than he already was. Senses taking over as you became fully blinded by your surroundings. Hand moving to his neck as he deepened the kiss. Panting loud between short releases.

Out of breath, you parted ways. Yet not too far as he allowed his forehead to rest against yours. Panting out a laugh. You smiled back at him, flushed to the bone. He touched your chin with a wide smile before giving you another short kiss. – “I want us to have forever.” – he said. – “Starting from right now.” – you nodded as he took a step back. Taking your hand to lead you out from under the willow tree. For you needn’t be concerned about the season now. For you had romanced yourself a Mr. Bridgerton.

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[watcherintheweyr]

'Rhaenyra is a bad mom bc she knowingly gave birth to bastards and she knew how much danger they'd be in!!!!'

1. She had no way of knowing those babies wouldn't pop out looking exactly like her, beforehand. And unfortunately she couldn't stop at Jace. The throne needed an heir. Driftmark needed an heir. And a spare was needed as well, given the sheer rate of Targaryen children dying untimely deaths.

2. She had to provide heirs to the throne, and to Driftmark. If she hadn't, society wouldn't have blamed Laenor, they would have blamed her- which makes her position even more unstable, bc then she 'can't fulfill a woman's duty' so why would men think her 'able' to fill a 'man's role' by ruling the kingdom? And she and Laenor tried. He was either unable (meaning infertile or impotent, or unable to get it up), or unwilling. (And they did try. We dont know what they tried but Rhaenyra is shown to be clever in the show so honestly i have no doubt she attempted what Margaery suggested with Renly.) Laenor was in on the entire thing. He was aware of every part of this. He wasn't duped, he wasn't cuckholded- it was a plan greenlit by him, bc this way he and Rhaenyra would both have their heirs and a family. This cannot in any way shape or form be compared to Cersei cuckholding Robert (fuck Robert Baratheon tho), seeing as Robert was **not** at all aware that his children weren't his, and wouldn't have been OK with that.

Either way- she chose not to maritally r*pe her husband and put him through more trauma after it was clear their attempts weren't working. Yall are always so upset for Alicent (rightfully so, bc show!alicent was maritally raped, even if it wasn't considered as such in that time), but you... WANT Rhaenyra to do that to Laenor? Hello???

[And no. Rhaenyra did NOT rape or coerce Criston Cole. The actors, writers, and directors have all stated their sex was consensual and 'an act of love.' It was Rhaenyra going to someone she felt close to and trusted after feeling abandoned and unwanted and betrayed. In that scene you literally watch, as after Cole tells Rhaenyra to stop undressing herself, she moves aside so she isn't blocking his way to the door. The director states that the moment they show Cole folding and setting down his cloak was him choosing his desire over his oaths. And Criston Cole has known Rhaenyra since she was 14. He knew damn well the sort of person she was- and she was not the person who would have harmed him for saying no. She was an intoxicated and emotionally vulnerable 19 year old- Criston was in his late 20s to early 30s. And it's explicitly stated in ep.9 that the ONLY person a Kingsguard cannot refuse is the king. In ep.7 Criston disobeys a direct order from Alicent when she wants him to mutilate Lucerys. Criston Cole was not assaulted. Stop trying to assign Aegon's sins to Rhaenyra so that you can feel better for supporting him.]

3. In the books, the rumors of their bastardry at large halted when all of Rhaenyra's boys' cradle eggs hatched. The ONLY people who continued to try and raise issue were the core green faction. But the realm at large *did not give a fuck* why? Because every actually relevant party claimed those boys. Repeatedly and without flinching. Laenor claimed and loved those boys even face to face with Alicent's bullshit. Corlys claimed and love those boys- he was proud of them, and it's been stated by the actor in the show that Luke was his favorite- that given the... events of ep.10, Corlys will be out for blood. And Viserys repeatedly insisted upon their legitimacy- because Laenor and Corlys claimed them, because he knew that by forcing Rhaenyra to marry Laenor in order to repair the damage his insults caused House Velaryon, that he had backed her into a corner.

Rhaenyras boys are remembered to history as Velaryon. Even **Green supporters** noted that they were good, capable, intelligent, and **worthy** princes. That their deaths were unfortunate *for the realm.*

Legally, those boys are legitimate. They cannot be proven illegitimate without Laenor renouncing them, and he never did. Furthermore, trying to declare children illegitimate due to their appearance is a stupid, dangerous precedent. The fact that it's people who have no ties to House Velaryon pushing these rumors and pushing for disinheritance makes it even worse, because they're meddling in the succession of a House that *is not theirs.* if that became a standard, imagine the feuds and conflicts that would erupt- lords pushing for the children of rivals to be declared illegitimate all for the sake of trying to grasp and steal land, power, and influence as a norm? The realm would tear itself apart. Not to mention the sheer danger that would place women in, in Westeros.

Furthermore, even whilst usurping her, even while calling her children bastards, the Greens also imply Laenor's homosexuality was inherited by the Velaryon princes- that they would use Rhaenyra's 'promiscuity' and Laenor's 'predilections' to turn the Red Keep into a brothel- ironic, considering that's more what Aegon would've done. So even while claiming that Rhaenyras children are bastards that shouldn't inherit, they try to state that what the boys inherit or learn from Laenor makes them unfit for the throne. They can't keep their own damn story straight- because their usurpation was never about what is moral, what is right, or the greater good. It was about greed. Power. Sexism.

It doesn't matter what those boys looked like, especially seeing as Rhaenys had dark hair in the books. What matters is that Corlys and Laenor and Viserys claimed them and declared them legitimate, and that they **never** deviated from that.

As for Vaemond, he was a second son. And he waited until Corlys and Viserys were dying and too ill to stop him to make a grasp for power. Youre not supposed to look at that and feel hes in the right. Youre supposed to look at that and see a man consumed by greed, and literally trying to bury Corlys' will and intentions before the man is even in a grave. He was NEVER Corlys' heir- he just wanted power. It wasn't about his House, or their legacy, it was about him.

(And before yall start shit about Rhaenyras boys stealing Laena's girls' inheritance... Rhaena and Baela are *TARGARYEN*. Not Velaryon. Their claim was to the throne or to any holdings in Daemon's name. NOT to Driftmark.)

Rhaenyras boys being betrothed to Rhaena and Baela tied up any issue of 'Velaryon blood.' Baela would have been queen consort of the seven kingdoms at Jace's side, and they very clearly adored one another in book and show. Rhaena would have been Lady of the Tides- which she never would have had a chance for, without Rhaenyra (and Laena) making those betrothals. She and Luke were also canonically very close- and in show she's very encouraging of him whenever he looks nervous or uncertain. They had a bond.

Rhaenyra stole nothing. She gave those girls more. And she loved them- they were the only daughters she got to have, seeing as the Greens treachery caused the early death of baby Visenya. If she hadn't loved them, she wouldn't have trusted Rhaena to look after Joffrey or give her Morning's egg from Syrax. She wouldn't have immediately invited both girls to the table when she was queen, which is something her father did not do for her until much, much later. He allowed Rhaenyra's voice to be silenced too often when she was first made heir. Rhaenyra did not repeat that hurt to her girls or her boys.

Anyways, moving on.

You lot do also remember that Rhaenyra herself has Velaryon blood, right? Jaehaerys I's mother was Alyssa Velaryon. Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya the Conquerors' mother was Valaena Velaryon. It's not immediate, but there *is* Velaryon blood through *all* of Rhaenyras boys.

Ultimately, Rhaenyras boys were only in danger because of the core Green faction usurping the throne. If they hadnt- no succession crisis or rebellion could have truly threatened Rhaenyras boys- because none of them would have had dragons. All of Rhaenyras children loved one another- her sons by Daemon would not have turned on her sons with Laenor (and Harwin). They were a true, loving family- possibly one of the healthiest and most close knit one House Targaryen ever boasted.

And another thing... 'her having babies with Harwin was stupid, she should have picked someone Valyrian!'

Here's the thing. Rhaenyra had to be careful as hell choosing who would father her and Laenor's heirs. She had to choose someone who was physically close, and who could be trusted. Someone who wouldn't try to publicly claim those boys in boast or jealousy. Someone who would keep their mouth shut and had no ambition of their own in regards to the throne. Do you really think Vaemond Velaryon (as I see him suggested a lot) would've kept his mouth shut? That he wouldn't have tried to use this to blackmail Rhaenyra and Laenor for more power and status? Do you think Rhaenys would have ever fought for or supported Rhaenyra if Rhaenyra had tried to have Corlys sire her children? And flying to see Daemon in Pentos and having a purely Valyrian child 9 months later would have made things look even more suspect.

Furthermore... she chose someone who cared for her deeply. Who clearly had a positive relationship with Laenor. She chose someone so she wouldn't have to traumatize herself- she took power over her body in a way almost no Westerosi woman has ever been able to. They were a family unit- Rhaenyra, Laenor, and Harwin. Those children were loved and cherished by two fathers and their mother. They were raised never doubting their mothers love, nor their father's- either father. They were raised and educated to be true, good princes of the realm.

Rhaenyra fought like hell for her children. She was an incredible mother. Yall just believe everything the Green faction says without looking at it critically, and that's unfortunate as hell.