#the haunting is all home-grown

[asurrogateblog]

pink floyd had no religious beliefs except for “no” and you know I think it was best for everyone involved that it stayed that way

[rafey-baby]

stepdad!rafe being gross about his stepdaughter…

c/w: stepcest, kinda angsty, slight somnophilia & some dubcon fingering, use of dad, 18+ mdni!

wc: 880

if u don’t like stuff like this pls scroll & read something else xx 

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Her relationship with her stepdad has always been rather strange.  

But she’s never really minded, because it felt nice to have someone fill that hollow pit inside her, the one that’s always been there, haunting her ever since her father left when she was just a little girl. An itch she could never quite scratch.  

It didn’t help that her mother was never exactly present in her life either— always too busy with work or looking for solace from the bottom of a wine bottle or blaming her for everything wrong in her life.

She was sixteen when her mom brought Rafe home for the first time. And she never quite understood why he had married the woman in the first place— why he filed for divorce only after she’d moved out for uni, and not the moment he found out his wife wasn’t spending all those late nights in the office, but instead in the bed of a stranger.

However, she didn’t much care for his reasons because he’d always been more of a parent to her than the people who were supposed to. She always secretly wished he would’ve been her real dad— not just someone she assumed felt obligated to take her under his wing when he found out how horribly she’d been treated all her life.  

That’s why she never really paid too much attention to his lingering touches or the borderline controlling tendencies that always seemed to fizzle to the surface whenever she’d do something he deemed bad. She was just happy that she finally had someone who made her feel safe, protected. What more could she really ask for? 

It felt nice when someone cared. 

And now, even if she’s legally an adult and capable of making her own decisions, she prefers when Rafe makes them for her. After all, is it so wrong to just want to be taken care of?  

Because university was a lot. And the never-ending deadlines, assignments and all the late nights she spent trying to understand something she just couldn’t, had grown into this hurricane inside of her. It swallowed up everything that once made life beautiful and worth living; hiding them away from her, until she was crying to her phone nearly every night with her daddy on the other end, trying to calm her down, but to no avail.  

And she could only take it for so long until one day, she was knocking on the door of Rafe’s brand new house with tear-soaked eyes and a suitcase— his strong arms wrapped tightly around her the only thing able to placate her in months because with him, everything felt secure.  

And she liked spending time with him and living on the island, had even gotten a weekend job at a surf shop (despite his protests) because she wanted to do something useful, something other than loitering around the house that felt more like a spooky mansion whenever he was at work.  

The empty hallways and her spacious bedroom were especially unsettling at night when she’d had a bad dream— more often than not making her tiptoe over to Rafe’s bedroom with a pout, asking if she could sleep there instead. ‘Of course you can, sweetheart��� he’d always murmur; voice gravelly with sleep and already making space for her under the covers…

Then one night, as she’s peacefully snoozing off in his warm embrace, his fingertips slip past the waistband of her fleecy pajama bottoms— merely grazing at the smooth skin of her lower tummy, telling himself he’s just trying to do something with his hands so sleep could find him faster.

That’s until he notices she’s not wearing any panties, getting an insatiable urge to tuck his fingers between her soft thighs— already meeting a sticky mess there. After all, he only has so much self-control around the innocent little angel he swears was sent from heaven just for him to taint; to ruin.  

And it’s not like she seems to mind with the way she snuggles closer to him in her sweet slumber; the round of her ass pressing closer and closer against his crotch with every unconscious shift of her hips.  

Only when he begins mindlessly thumbing at her clit, does she stir— drowsy voice panicky when she mumbles out something inaudible.  

“Shh. S’just me, relax, yeah?” he hushes her, wet fingertips rubbing lazy circles over her weepy cunt when she whines— a complaint already blossoming on her tongue, something about him being gross, no doubt.  

“Is dad not makin’ you feel nice?” he coos, other hand dragging her closer with a grip on her thigh when she tries to pull away.  

“This is— you shouldn’t…” she stumbles over her words, trying to wriggle away from his overwhelming touch.   

“Shh, what do I always tell you, hm?” he clicks his tongue, his hold firm as he coaxes her to tell him what he wants to hear.  

Momentarily, she gets distracted from squirming around as she searches through her fuzzy brain before whispering out the answer. “…dad knows what’s best.” 

“There you go, that’s m’girl,” he breathes out, pressing a gentle kiss to the apple of her cheek as a reward— smiling against the skin when she lets out a muffled whimper, because his hands do feel nice.

[thewritergx]

Caught in the Act: Stepdad!Joel Miller X F!Reader

Summary: Joel catches his stepdaughter with her boyfriend and decides to show her who’s really in charge. 

Warnings: Unhappy marriage, mommy and daddy issues, drinking. Smut Containing: Age Gap (Reader is 18+ with undisclosed age, Joel in late 30s), Joel is your stepdad (don't read if your not into that), Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Caught in the Act (Reader with secret boyfriend), Jealousy, Cheating, Spanking, Fingering, Kissing, Oral (F!Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Pet Names: Darling, Baby girl, Little girl, Daddy. 

Word Count: 4.5K

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Please feel free to like and repost. Click here if you’d like more stories from me. Text divider from @cafekitsune. Free color text generator. If you'd like more Joel Miller stories, please go check out @pearlessance.

In the beginning, Joel Miller had hoped he would make a great stepfather. He hoped he would get along with you, find ways to make you laugh, get to know all your interests, and maybe help with schoolwork. He had been a father before, after all. He was sure he could do it again, even if you were already a teenager with your own life. He could guarantee you were safe, loved, and had a warm bed to come home to.

But, it turned out, you were completely different than what he had experienced with his daughter, Sarah. She was grown now, off to a big city hours away from him. Joel always thought she was easy to raise, but after living with you for the past two years, he was one hundred percent sure being a stepdad was nearly impossible. Now, he would settle to know he was a ‘kinda okay’ stepfather. 

Joel knew that you hadn’t really done anything wrong. You were a good girl, always coming home before curfew, making all A’s in your senior year, and never bringing around any shitty dudes. But fuck, if you weren’t slowly ruining his life with your little outfits and teasing glares. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, the way your eyes lingered on him, but he could feel you in the back of his mind all the time.

Maybe it would have been easier for him to manage if it happened slowly, the gutted feeling he got when looking at you. But it came on fast, like a truck traveling ninety miles per hour into a brick wall the day you moved in. He hated to admit it, but a part of him deep down in the darkest pits of his decaying soul, loved it. A kind of unimaginable pain he craved constantly, like when you get a small bruise and can’t help but press into the discolored skin. You know that icky, repulsive feeling you get when you touch wet food in the sink? That was how he felt every time he looked at you, his skin recoiling into itself as you hugged him goodbye, your arms wrapped loosely around his waist.

The fantasies were the absolute worst, haunting him like an uninvited spirit watching in a dark corner of every room. He would imagine the most ghastly, devilish images when he was alone. Ones where you would be all spread open for him, letting him devour your swollen pussy while he pumped his fingers in and out of you. Ones where you were waiting on your knees at the front door, a perfect set of lingerie displaying your tits as you sat with your mouth open, waiting for him to come home from work and fuck your little throat. Ones where you were screaming into your pillow as he stretched you open with his thick cock, pounding you into the mattress until you were begging him to stop. It was driving him insane. Insane like he couldn’t control himself. Insane like he wondered if he might have needed to get some serious professional help.

There was a time when he had truly loved his wife. At least he thought he did, hoped it. But she was always so busy, traveling out of town for some important work conference or meetings. He hated being lonely in his own home, hated that he fell asleep knowing you were right down the hall, no one stopping him from sneaking into your room and taking you like a dirty little whore. You didn't deserve it. He knew you were a good girl, an intoxicating innocent clouding his mind. It was exhilarating but left a bad, sour taste in his mouth, sort of like biting into a rotten piece of fruit. His wife was becoming more of an annoyance, her body never helping ease the pain of you. He would try, truly he would. But every time her hands landed on his skin, he thought of you, sleeping alone down the hall. 

“Joel?” Tommy waved his hand in front of his face, “Joel?”

Joel shook his head, eyes darting to his brother and thoughts snapping back to reality. “Huh?” Joel pitched the bridge of his nose before running his hand through his hair. “Sorry. Uh, what were you sayin?” He sat quietly across from Tommy, his broad shoulders pressed lazily into the small booth, red vinyl sticking to his back. 

“You okay? You haven't listened to a word I’ve said.” Tommy laughed, taking a swig of his beer and eating stale french fries. 

“Actually, I ain't feeling very good. Think I might be sick,” Joel muttered his words, hoping he was putting on a believable show. He felt fine. He just wanted to be back home. Back with his girl. As much as he loved his brother, he was begging to be close to you, not in some shitty dive bar avoiding the flirty glare from the bartender. 

“You should get home, rest.” Tommy stood, throwing down a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket. 

“Yeah, it's getting late anyway”. Joel dragged his body from the booth, slamming down the rest of his drink and grabbing his keys. 

It took everything in Joel’s body not to sprint to his truck, his boots stomping across the gravel parking lot. He jumped into the truck, the engine rowing to life. His jaw was clenched, music vibrating through the speakers as he gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white and tight against the worn out leather. 

He stumbled into the house, shoulders dropping and his eyes falling to the cold hardwood floor as he walked inside. The house was eerily quiet, the living room dark and empty. He had expected you to be in your usual place, sitting on the couch, wearing a tiny pair of shorts and a crop top that somehow showed way too much and nothing at the same time. His hands rested at his sides, eyes darting to your bedroom with a slight frown. 

You knew it was wrong, the way your panties instantly soaked in a pool of arousal anytime you were alone with Joel Miller. It was happening at an alarming rate lately, your mother always gone on work trips or fancy dinners. It was agonizing, your skin constantly on fire for a man you could never touch. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact day or even moment when you started pinning for the man. He was just always around, messy hair always falling in his eyes in the morning, eyes sparkling in the sun as he mowed the grass, and the way he rolled his sleeves up, the material hugging his toned shoulders as he washed the dishes. He was a goddamn masterpiece waiting for you to fall apart and end up in arms. It was wrong on every account. He was rough, older than you by a good fifteen years. Not to mention, he was married to your mother. 

You relished in the fact you were finally home alone, the perfect opportunity to get yourself some type of release from the constant yearning. Joel didn't like leaving you alone. Your mother was already gone all the time and he wasn’t going to be another person in your life too busy to show up when you needed him. As much as you loved being around him, feeling his gaze from across the room, you needed a night to yourself. You knew you shouldn’t. You wanted to respect Joel and his house, but it wasn’t nearly enough to stop you. 

You laid on your bed, a loose t-shirt hanging off your shoulders, goosebumps rising over your body. You had been seeing a guy for a few months, keeping him a tightly wrapped secret. He was sweet, tall, and smart. The boy hovered over you, his hands falling to your hips as you grind into him, lips lightly parting and panting breaths flowing from you. His fingers grazed the hem of your red panties, the material hugging your waist. He brushed his lips over ours, pulling you into a gentle kiss. Not enough to send any sparks but enough to leave you whining and body raving. His hands traveled lower, dipping just inside your panties. You gasp, bucking your hips into his hand for any type of friction. You were so close to a release, hoping it would help settle the growing need for Joel. You had to stop yourself from imagining him, stop yourself from moaning his name as the boy dipped a finger inside you. 

Joel stood in the living room, debating on whether to knock on your door. Maybe you were hungry? Maybe you needed help with that new anatomy project? He lingered towards the door, hand hovering over the handle when he heard a quiet whimper. He listened for a moment longer, the sound of small moans reverberating on the other side. He should knock, he knows that. But in a second of impulse, he was swiftly throwing the door open.

“What the fuck?” Disdain dripped off his tongue, his broad shoulders standing in your doorframe as you lay on the bed, legs spread open. The boy’s hands roamed over your body, kissing your neck and palming at your panties. 

“Joel, oh my god! Get out,” you yelped, quickly pushing the boy off of you. You watched as the muscles in Joel’s jaw tightened, the veins in his throat contracting as he swallowed a huff of air. 

The boy stood in front of you, helpless fear written all over his face. “I’m uh...I-I’m gonna go,” he muttered, quickly throwing on a pair of Nike Sneakers. God, he looked pathetic. Weak and small next to the man you had really been longing for. 

“Yeah. You do that.” Joel cut his eyes at the boy, begging him to give Joel a reason. Joel wanted nothing more than to throw that kid against the wall and fuck him up so bad the cops would have to drag him out. But, he held back, hands crossed around his chest, the muscles in his shoulders flexing against his body. The boy awkwardly slipped through Joel, his eyes on the floor and shoulder shrugging. He squeezed himself between Joel’s large frame and the doorway, quickly leaving with a slight slam of the front door. 

You felt your body trembling, the edge of euphoria quickly fading and leaving you feeling empty. You felt your throat go dry, fingers shaky as you looked at Joel, your eyes darting between him, the floor, and your quivering fingers. 

“Who the hell was that?” Joel stepped into the room, scanning the way your bottom lip pouted, eyes full of regret and fear. It was cute, the way you were avoiding looking at him, but he needed to see the look in your eyes when he was talking to you. 

“No one,” you whispered, voice barely audible over the sound of Joel’s hitched breaths.

“No one? You let…no one touch you like…that?” Anger rose higher, Joel’s voice thick with venom and a hint of disgust.

“N-No. I-I.” You shifted in your bed, sitting on the mattress with a ‘thud’. “He’s just some guy I’ve been talking to”.

“Does this ‘guy’ have a name?” Joel stood at the foot of your bed, his feet planted in the carpet. His eyes filled with darkness. 

“R-Ryan.” You spoke matter-of-fact, skin growing hot with embarrassment. 

“Ryan?” Joel sucked his teeth, his tongue pressed against his lips as he repeated the boy's name. Stupid and plain, he thought. He wasn’t even hot. He looked like a fucking nerd. Were these the kind of guys you actually liked? He definitely wasn't good enough for you and Joel could guarantee whatever he was about to do with you would have been over in five minutes. You deserved so much more than that. Deserved a real man. A man who could give you everything you needed, leave your body exhausted and voice raspy from screaming. “And what were you and ‘Ryan’ doin’?” 

You somehow mustered up the courage to look up at Joel, your cheeks flustered and on the verge of tears. “Nothing,” you mumbled again, eyes quickly falling down Joel’s body.

“Didn’t look like nothin’. Looked like you were about to spread those little legs for him. Were you gonna let that kid fuck you?” Joel stalked towards you, his large frame lingering over you like a lion stalked its prey. 

You cringed at his words hating the way it made your body all hot. “N-No! I swear. I wasn’t. I just…” You shifted again, pulling your shirt down in hopes of hiding the wetness formed in between your thighs.

“Just what? You were just under him, lettin’ him rub your pussy and you weren’t gonna fuck ‘em?” Joel grabbed your chin, his calloused fingers pulled at the soft skin, forcing you to look up and meet his gaze as his thumb stroked your cheek softly. 

“I-” You tried to speak, words harshly cut off.

“Were you gonna suck his dick?” Joel dragged his thumb across your bottom lip, pressing into the soft skin. “Think that kid could actually give you what you need?”Joel chuckled, a sinister vibration shuddering through you. “You need to learn some goddamn respect, sweetheart. Bringin’ a boy like that into my house”. 

“I-I’m sorry, Joel. Please, I-I thought you would be gone longer.” Every nerve on your body is electrified with the soft touch of Joel's callous hands, a heavy contrast between his words. He was so close, the smell of whisky on his breath wafting between you.

“You’re sorry?” Joel huffed, “I don’t think you’re sorry, darlin’. Think ya’ liked it. Think ya’ wanted more, huh?” 

You stared up at Joel. You hesitated but voiclessly shook your head yes. There was no point in trying to hide it, not with your flustered cheeks and glossed-over eyes.

“Think I need to teach a lesson about what happens to little girls like you.” Joel sat next to you, his chest expanding with each breath as he pulled your arms, directing your body until you were all sprawled out, ass in his lap and face in the blankets. He tugged at the bottom of your shirt, bunching the material at your waist to finally reveal those tiny red panties, your cunt swollen and outlined under the lace.

“Look at these fucking panties. Got all dressed up for him, huh?” Joel’s fingers travel to the thin material between your legs, hooking at the fabric before letting it go with a loud ‘pop’. He caressed your skin, calloused hands squeezing at the fat of your thighs. 

You flinched, your skin begging for more of him. Goosebumps rose across your body and your breath hitched in your throat, waiting as Joel’s hands lingered on your ass. 

“Joel, What are you-,” A loud slap echoed across the room, Joel’s strong hands striking the curvy fat of your ass cheek hard. Your body rejected the sensation, causing you to stur against him, hips writhing in a stinging pain. 

“Stay still,” Joel demanded, his words rushing through you like lightning strikes a metal pole. He struck you hard again, hand lingering on your skin a moment too long, caressing you before he spanked you again.

“Ow!” You immediately cried out at the unexpected impact. Your skin stung, and a red handprint started to form. 

Joel ignored your plea, slapping you again. This time, harder, enough to almost make you cry.

“Joel, ow!” A tear formed in your eye and your back arched with each impact. “I’m sorry, Joel. Please, I’ll be a good girl”. 

“Don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet, darlin’,” Joel hit you again, fingers traveling down to your panties for the second time.

“Look at how fucking wet you are. You're dripping all over my lap, sweetheart.” You moaned at his words, his hands palming at the sensitive skin, panties adding a rough sensation as he rubbed small circles on your clit. “This all for me or did that dumb boy do this?” 

“Fuck, Joel. P-please,” You bucked your hips, ass on fire but begging for more. 

“Answer me,” Joel growled, striking you again. His fingers moved just slow enough to work you up, but leave you whining for more. 

“Ahh! J-just y-you. I don’t e-even like h-him,” you yelped, cold air hitting your body as Joel reached for your top, swiftly pulling it over your arms and past your head. 

“Ya’ don’t even like him? Then why was he in my house? Why were you lettin’ him touch what’s mine?” His fingers returned to your cunt, settling on your soft skin and tugging on the lace. Finally, he was pulling the fabric down your legs, exposing that glistening pussy he had been craving for an eternity. 

“I’m sorry, daddy.” You swallowed hard, mouth going dry as you laid completely naked over him. Your ass stung and your pussy was crying. 

Joel spread your swollen lips, using two fingers to expose the arousal leaking from your tight hole. “Look at that,” Joel whispered, his fingers softly rubbing the outside of your soft lips, gathering your arousal thick on his fingers. He moved slowly, expertly rubbing your clit in a figure eight motion. You shuddered, the feeling just enough to add a sense of pleasure under the pain of your abused skin. You bucked your hips back into his hand, little moans falling out of you. 

His free hand traveled lower, lightly circling the soaking skin of your cunt, tight and swollen as he pressed his finger gently inside. 

“Oh god,” you squealed, Joel’s finger pressing right against that sweet spot. 

“So responsive. This is what ya’ like, huh?” He curled his finger up, his other hand still massaging your clit. “Like makin’ a mess on your stepdaddy's fingers?” He whispered, quickly adding a second finger to pump into you. “I know you do. You’re fuckin’ drippin’, baby girl”. 

Every muscle in Joel’s body was flexing, his toned arms stiff as he hits that sweet spot over and over again. The sensation is almost too much, your stomach tightening as he stretches you out. 

“Fuck, daddy. Please”, you cry, your mouth falling open as Joel ignores all your pleas for mercy. That tight feeling in your stomach grows, and shaky legs cause your hips to falter.  

“I know you're close, baby girl. Cum on your daddy’s fingers. It’s okay.” Joel struggled to keep you from sliding off his fingers, your walls tightening around him as his fingers press into your velvet skin.

“Joel!” You’re practically crying, eyes gripped close as a rush of euphoria flows through you. Everything in you relaxes, that sweet sensation leaving you vibrating with pleasure. 

“Good girl,” Joel mutters, eyes locked on the way your body is sucking his fingers in, your juices running down his hand. Joel hesitates for a moment. He thinks about fucking you with his fingers until you're a burning pile of ash under him. Reluctantly, he decides to show some type mercy, gently helping you lay back on the bed. 

He positions you on your back, your knees bent so your feet lay flat against the blanket. Before he can think, before he can force himself to get up and walk out the door, he is sinking to his knees and wrapping his arms around your thighs. 

“Let me clean you up, darlin’,” Joel mutters, placing gentle kisses down your stomach.

He settles on your thighs, lightly biting at the skin and sucking harsh red marks. He spreads your legs wider, hovering his face above your core. He can guarantee your little boyfriend was not planning on doing this. 

Jole’s breath lands on your pussy, hot and slow as he licks a long stripe through your folds. Fuck, that’s the taste he had been dreaming of, like heaven oozing out of you and onto his tastebuds. He uses the tip of his tongue to tease your clit, flicking it up and down against you. Your hands fall to his thick hair, tugging at the loose strands that fall down his forehead. Joel hums, sending a vibration through you as his spit mixes with your wetness. 

His tongue traces every part of your core, settling back on your clit. This time harsher, like he's on a mission. His teeth graze the gentle skin, fingers digging into your thighs as you fuck his mouth. You're a mess under him, bucking your hips into his mouth as he sucks at the plump skin. 

“That’s it. Just like that. Cum on your daddy’s mouth, little girl”. Joel’s words echo through you, his tongue ripping another orgasm through you like a hot blade cuts through rubber. It's gentler but just powerful, leaving your mind foggy and breathless. 

“Such a good girl,” Joel growls, quickly forcing himself to stand. Finally, he gets a real look at your body. Your hair is already messy, red strands falling down your shoulders. Your nipples are swollen, the dark pink buds standing on edge. Fuck, you were breathtaking. 

Joel knew this was the moment that he truly couldn’t come back from. Maybe there was nothing wrong with just helping his girl get off. It was safer with him, he thought. But actually, fucking you? It would be too much. He should leave. He taught you a lesson. Taught you who you really belong to, right? He thought it would be easier. Thought he could stop whenever he was getting too close to crossing that line of no return, but his feet were planted in the ground and his cock was throbbing against the zipper of his jeans. 

Your eyes pleaded up at him, pupils dilated as you watched in silence. You didn't look scared and he found no hint of regret in your eyes. You looked happy even, a slight smile on your face.

“Think you can take your daddy’s dick?” He stood above you, watching your pussy dripping with his saliva. 

You nodded your head, arms grazing the soft skin of your stomach. He shouldn’t fold this easily. He should’ve made you say it, how much you wanted him. But that little nod was all he needed to kick off his boots and pull the zipper of his blue jeans down. 

“Just, fuck…Your mom can never know”. Joel pulled at his shirt, swiftly throwing it up over his head. His broad shoulders were finally on display, the muscles in his arms all toned. You had never seen him like this, his chest sprinkled with greying hair. He was like a Roman painting, his stomach firm but with a little bit of extra fat to grab onto. A true dad bod, you thought. 

“I know. J-Just want you. All of you,” you muttered, sitting up on your forearms as you watched him pull his jeans down his legs, leaving him in a pair of dark briefs. You could tell from here just how hard his cock was, the fabric strained and tight against him. 

“I know, baby girl. Think I don’t see it? The way you're always watchin’ me? Or the way you grab my arms when ya’ laugh? Fuckin’ drives me crazy, ya know.” Joel stepped closer, his heart pounding in his chest. God, he really was about to fuck the little girl he was supposed to be helping raise. I mean, it’s not like you shared blood or anything. He wasn’t actually your dad. He was just a guy…married to your mom. 

“Just let me know…if gets to be too much,” Joel groaned, closing his eyes as he swallowed. He cursed himself for this, pulling his boxers off his hips. As much as he hated it, his cock sprang free, dripping with precum as he dragged his body to hover over you. It was a sweet relief, the air hitting him as he pumped his hand up and down his dick. 

Joel spread your legs wider, his hips falling over yours as pulled you into a hungry kiss. His lips meet yours with a subtle taste of whiskey and you. His tongue slowly licks at your lips, his hands gripping your hips as he lines himself up to your entrance. You open your mouth a bit, letting him trace his tongue against yours, exploring every crevice of your mouth. The tip of his cock brushes against your clit, his large member teasing you and gathering your wetness. 

“Please,” you whine. Your arms fall down Joel’s shoulders, meeting his eyes as he gently presses his tip past your folds. 

“Fuck, baby. So fuckin’ tight.” Joel growled, pushing himself inside you with a sweet burning stretch. 

“Oh, Joel!” You moan, your throat tightening around your words as he sinks deeper inside you. You're taking half his cock now, so much bigger than the boy you had been seeing. 

“I got you, baby. Doing so good.” Joel’s head fell into the crease of your neck, placing hot kisses as he hit the back of your pussy. He stayed like this for a moment, letting you get used to the feeling of him before he pulled back. “That’s a good girl. Takin’ her daddy so well.” Joel dragged himself out, leaving the tip inside before falling completely back into you, brushing against your g-spot like a pro. 

“Feel so good,” you whine, your nails dragging down his back as he picks up speed. 

“God, baby girl. Fuckin’ doing so good.” He tries to hold back, hips growing just slightly rough as he fucks deep into you. 

Your body is trembling again, your heart sinking with every thrust and a single tear runs down your cheek. He was so big, hitting your cervix over and over again. 

That feeling was quick to creep back, your chest tightening as he pounded into you, cock pumping in and out faster and rougher. 

“Daddy, please,” You cried, your body fighting off the euphoria as Joel pressed his weight against you. 

“It’s okay. Cum on Daddy’s big dick,” Joel growled, no longer stopping himself from making a complete mess of you. He watched your eyes flutter close, your back arching off the bed and your hands digging into the blankets. He snapped his hips, a loud echo ringing out across the room and you clenched around him, thick white cream coating the base of his cock. 

Just like that, you were crying out his name and shaking uncontrollably. Your orgasm ripped through you, hard and undeniable. 

“Daddy! Fuck yes!” You screamed, your hips bucking into him as you bit into his shoulder. 

“Fuck, that’s it.” Joel ground against you, hips never faulting as you withered under him. “Like Daddy’s cock, huh?” He growled, his own high building as he watched you shudder at his touch.

“I love it, daddy. Love your dick so much,” You whined, forcing your walls to open up for him. 

“Yeah? Wish I was fucking you a long time ago baby. Wanted to since I met ya’.” Joel’s rhythm grew messy, hips slapping into you at an unprecedented pace. “Gonna let your daddy cum inside your little pussy?”

“Yes, please Daddy. Want your cum,” You stuttered, your voice all raspy and barely audible. 

Fuck. Joel couldn't stop himself and he was thrusting as deep as he could, sinking all the way inside you until his balls landed on your clit. You were so beautiful, so tight around him that his mind was all clouded and drunk. 

“Goddamn. That’s my good girl. Lettin’ her daddy get her pregnant. Want to carry my baby huh? Get all swollen while your mom’s out of town. Bet she wouldn’t even notice.” Before he could stop himself, he was painting your walls white, fucking every drop of his cum deep inside you with a painful need. 

“Yes, Daddy!” You whined, watching as Joel slowly pulled out, his cum dripping down your leg. He dragged himself off of you, hitting the mattress with deep panting breaths. 

“Love ya’, sweetheart. Always have.” Joel muttered, his words spread out and uneven as he pulled your back against his chest. His mind was racing, the reality of what he had just done weighing on him like a ton of bricks.

He should have knocked.

[nikoisme]

actually the fact that odysseus knew he'd be gone for 20 years makes the gears in my brain turn. You kiss your son goodbye knowing you will miss every milestone of his. He will be a grown man and will not remember you. You will be a father only by title. Your wife will lay alone in your wedding bed, she will wake and see the side you've slept on is empty. You won't hold each other for a long, long time. Your parents may not even be there to welcome you back. You know you will return, but the war stretches on and on. Your comrades fall. Your ships are on fire. Your best warriors are nothing but ashes in an urn. But it's eventually over, you can go home. But still, there's more time left. First it's a storm. It's winding up in strange lands. It's hunger. It's temptation. Your men grow weary. You have twelve ships and then you have one and then it's only you on a single timber. You know you will return, but everything has gone so horribly wrong that you can't help but wonder if the fates fooled you. Everyone you know is either dead or are living again. You are the only one stuck in between. Neither dead or alive. You sit on a beach staring out to the sea from the moments the birds sing til the sun dips over the horizon. Every day is the same - you sit on the stones and weep, you trek the shores, during the night you're in her bed. Your skin is cracked and sunburnt, your beard long and tangled, your hair etched with more and more silver hairs. Your eyes are dull, sunken. Your bones ache when you walk, your breath is shorter. The sun rises and sets. The waves wash away your footprints. You are growing old but the island is the same. You are left behind. Your home will change and you won't change with it. In fact, everyone will change, but you will not recognize what's different. Some of the lines under your eyes will be the hauntings of war, while your wife's will be from the sleepless nights of buying you time. You flinch when you see each other. You expected to see someone else, and she expected to see no one at all. You could once hold your boy in your arms, but now it feels like he's the one holding you. The trees in your orchard have grown taller. Some of the houses in your kingdom are empty. The children that sat on your knees now have their own children on their own knees - or they lie dead, by your own hand. Who are you? Who is your son, your wife? You will get to know each other, you will change together eventually. But there will still be something off, like a brick not fitting quite right in the foundation. Off like a living man among the dead, someone who wasn't fated to die, but was supposed to die a long time ago. A dead man among the living. You will not belong, even though you are the father of your son, the husband of your wife, the son of your father, the king of your land. There will always be something missing, something aching.

And you are willing to let it all happen when you lift your baby son from the field, away from the plow.

[tetragonia]

Please Don't be Afraid of Me

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Arguing with Rafe is your daily meal, but this time he almost did something that could break you for life.

warning: mentions of (Y/N)'s father being abusive, toxic relationship, Rafe almost going a bit aggressive, trauma, no mention of (Y/N)

note: I really need a good angst and why not write one myself? I hope this one hurts you as bad as it hurts me :')

words: 800+

The air between you and Rafe crackled with tension, the argument escalating faster than either of you had intended. You both were standing near the docks, voices rising, cutting through the quiet night. Your frustration had been simmering for days, ever since you caught wind of some of Rafe’s shady behavior again—money missing, deals going wrong. You had confronted him, and it spiraled from there.

“You think you can just keep pulling this crap, Rafe? You think nobody notices what you're doing?” your voice was sharp, each word laced with anger. What you two have was toxic, you knew deep down. But somehow it was very rewarding, all those kisses and makeups you two would do after an argument.

But this one was different.

“Don’t act like you know me,” Rafe shot back, his jaw clenched. “You don’t know half the things I’m dealing with.”

“Then tell me!” you snapped, stepping closer, eyes blazing. “But no, you’d rather lie, cheat, and then act like the world owes you something!”

Rafe's temper flared, his hand instinctively raising mid-argument, more out of frustration than intent. But the movement—sudden, aggressive—made you freeze.

You body reacted before your mind could catch up. You flinched, taking an instinctive step back, your eyes widening in a flicker of fear. In that split second, Rafe’s hand hovered mid-air, his anger dissolving as guilt crashed into him.

He hadn’t meant to do it. He hadn’t even realized how much his action mirrored something... darker, something that triggered a deep-seated fear in you. But seeing you flinch, seeing you step back from him, it hit him like a wave of cold reality.

“Baby, wait—” Rafe dropped his hand instantly, his voice softer, filled with an unfamiliar urgency. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, were suddenly wide with regret.

He took a cautious step forward, but you moved back again, your breath shallow, still caught in the reflex of fear.

“I’m not him,” Rafe said, his voice low, almost pleading. “I’m not your father.”

Your chest tightened, the comparison too raw, too close to home. You blinked, fighting back the tears that were threatening to surface. Your heart pounded in her ears, but Rafe didn’t move again. He stood there, watching you, a rare vulnerability in his expression.

“I wasn’t going to—” he stammered, rubbing his hand through his hair. “I’d never... hurt you.”

You didn’t say anything, still processing the way your body had reacted, how automatic the fear was, how much he reminded you of the volatile moments with your dad—moments you spent years trying to forget.

Rafe took another step forward, more cautiously this time, his movements slower, gentler. “You...” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean—”

You couldn’t look at him directly, your mind torn between the image of Rafe you knew and the shadows of the past that haunted you. The tension in the air had shifted, no longer angry but filled with a raw, uncomfortable truth.

He reached out again, but this time there was no threat in his gesture. His hand hovered near you, waiting, offering. “Please don’t be afraid of me.”

You’s heart thudded painfully in your chest, your breathing still uneven. You swallowed, glancing at his hand. You hated yourself for flinching earlier, for letting him see that side of you, but you couldn’t deny that he had triggered something deep. Something you weren’t ready to confront.

Still, there was something in his voice, in the way he had softened so suddenly, that made you hesitate. Rafe wasn’t the man you had grown up fearing, wasn’t the man who left you with scars both seen and unseen. He was a mess, yes, but this... this was different.

Slowly, tentatively, you took a small step toward him, meeting his gaze. You saw the guilt there, the sincerity. The storm in your head started to calm, just slightly.

Rafe didn’t move again, letting you come to him at your own pace. His hand was still there, waiting. And when you finally closed the gap between them, you let out a shaky breath. You didn’t flinch this time as his hand gently touched your arm, his grip soft, reassuring.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice breaking through the quiet.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to steady yourself. “Just... don’t ever do that again,” you murmured, your voice barely audible, but firm.

“I won’t,” Rafe promised, his thumb brushing against your skin lightly. His touch was tender, so unlike the rough edges of his usual self.

For a moment, neither of them moved. They stood there in the quiet, the intensity of the argument fading into something neither of them had words for. You’s heart was still racing, but not out of fear now. It was something else. Something unfamiliar, something you weren’t sure you could handle.

But as Rafe stood close, his touch warm and steady, you realized that you didn’t want to step back anymore.

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

THE HISTORY BOOK ON THE SHELF. ( HOTD x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: King Aegon ii Targaryen x Targaryen! Little Sister! Reader prompt: When the small council plans to marry off once again, you turn to your older brother for help. word count: 1, 000+ words

You were the youngest and third daughter of Alicent and Viserys. A few months younger than Helaena and Aegon's little shadow in your childhood. Your older brother at first hated it, the way you cling onto him and gawk at him with an innocent awe.

It was your ninth name day, your Father had not paid much attention to it, but your Mother had ordered a celebration for it. You had trailed after him, babbling about nonsense as he tried to lose you. It was at dinner that night that everything had boiled over. Instead of receiving gifts, you had taken to giving everyone a gift.

He had not expected anything. He hadn't been the most kind to you. But was surprised when you had gifted him an embroidered cloth with Sunfyre on it. It was not the best and some threads were loose, but you proudly had told him you learned embroidery for him. Seeing those big doe eyes of yours his opinion changed. He adored you. You were the only one in the family that did not care about his worsening reputation. You just...adored your big brother, flaws and all.

It was why it killed him on your eleventh name day you were shipped off to the Reach, married off to a Lord as old as your Grandsire. He was haunted by your wails, of the way you clung onto Helaena and Aemond, the two of them wailing as Ser Cole carried you off to the carriage.

His young sister, the only one in the family who truly cared, was sold off like a piece of cattle. Not even your cold Grandsire was able to protest the marriage as politically it was a good match and good enough reasoning for the small council to approve it. 

As years ticked by, you gave birth to two children, a stillborn daughter and a healthy son. Your husband kept you away in the Reach, so no one in your family had seen you since you were twelve and given birth to your only surviving son.

He remembered the look in your eyes, so void and almost dead. Of how you tried to stay positive. Saying, "Tis' not so bad. He mostly ignores me, except when he wishes to bed me. But even then tis' not so bad, he finishes quickly."

When he became King, he swiftly ordered you to return home, regardless of your husband's wishes. No one would take his baby sister away from him. Not whilst he was still alive and had the crown placed upon his head.

Watching you bounce your son on your lap, he attempts to pay some attention to the small council, but his eyes keep straying back to you. It was odd to think that you were now a Mother and all grown up. Snapping out of his little daze, he glances back at the small council, each member arguing intently. Furrowing his brows in confusion, Ser Criston slides a piece of parchment in front of him, an uncomfortable look on his face. Raising a brow at what he had just returned to, he glances at the parchment, reading the words quickly. 

Your cunt of a husband was dead, finally croaked in his sleep. There was no reason for you to go back to the Reach. You could stay here in King’s Landing once more. Softly smiling at the good news, he goes to speak up when Lord Lannister stands up from his chair, slamming his hands down on the table. His face red from anger, his eyes wild like an untamable beast, and voice booming loud enough that it would make a dragon’s roar put to shame.

“To speak of the Princess in such a manner is dishonorable, I will see to it personally that your tongue is removed, Lord Wydle.” 

“The girl is of age, she has proven she can bear heirs, healthy heirs. To not give her hand to another Lord would be foolish.” 

“We need allies, the common folk are starving and soon the coin will run out. Surely as Master of Coin you can see reason, Lord Lannister.”

“Your grace, please, listen to reason we should⎯”

It takes a moment to realize what they had been discussing so intently. Then it clicks, they were speaking of having you remarry. 

"What?" He whispers, his voice shaky and full of disbelief.

"No, Aegon, please don't make me do this again. Please." You whisper, tears building up in your eyes.

"It would be best to have your sister marry someone⎯"

"Think of the war, your grace⎯"

Seeing the tears building up in your eyes, it reminded him of all those years ago when you were whisked away to the Reach. Struggling to speak up and dismiss their suggestions, you kneel in front of his chair, gripping onto breeches as you beg and plead for clemency to their plans. Your son starts to wail on the other side of his chair, making motions with his hands to be picked up. 

Feeling his heart break a little at the sight, he shifts his gaze from you then your wailing son then back to the small council. Everything is hectic and he doesn’t know who or what to focus his attention on. Does he console you? Does he tend to your wailing son? Does he handle the small council? Struggling to find his voice, he just stays frozen in his chair. 

“Please, please, do not make me do this again, Aegon.” You beg, “I did what was asked of me before. Please do not ask this of me again.”

“We need allies, your grace. The Princess is still desired by many men, men who will look past her past marriage and son. Think of the kingdom⎯”

“Send treaties, then!”

“Please, Aegon. I ask as your sister, not a member of the Court. Please do not make me do this again. I do not wish to marry again. Please do not send me away again.” You beg, your voice cracking. 

Watching as the tears begin to fall from your eyes, he clenches his jaw tightly, anger boiling up at the sight of you. His precious little sister, the one person in all of the Realm that he truly cared for, was crying by his small council's hand. Slamming his hands down hard on the table, the room goes deadly silent, minus the soft sniffles of you and your son. 

“There will be no marrying off my sister! If you wish for such alliances as much as you claim, do offer your daughters instead, for I will not be doing the same to my sister nor my daughter.” 

“Your grace, if you would just⎯”

“I am King, no?” He snaps back, “There will be no questioning of my decision. The matter is settled.”

----

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

[luxaofhesperides]

the lost brother - damian

There is static in his ears.

There is a baby in his arms.

His niece. His niece from a brother dead before he was born. The daughter of Danyal, his mother's greatest regret, the ghost haunting his childhood, the brother he never got to have.

She is so small in his arms. Still. Quiet.

It frightens him, cradling such a fragile life in his arms. He's not good with most people, let alone a baby.

Danyal must have been truly desperate to leave her with him.

"Robin."

The voice makes the world come rushing back into place. Damian moves before he thinks, turning his body to shield his niece from danger, but it's only Red Robin standing before him. He stares, wide eyed, until Red Robin pushes his cowl back and Drake stands before him, expression carefully neutral. He doesn't look at the baby in Damian's arms. He only looks at Damian.

"Robin, come on. The Batmobile is right below us."

Damian hesitates, then follows Drake to the edge of the roof. He takes the fire escape down, landing carefully so he doesn't jostle the baby in his arms, and Drake grapples down a moment later, carefully maintaining the distance between them.

He knows it's to keep Damian from feeling trapped, and he's stupidly grateful, though he'll never say so.

The rest of the family will be a pain to deal with. They will demand answers he doesn't have, invade his space, insist on taking his niece from him. At least Drake is quiet and willing to observe without interference beyond getting them all home.

As promised, the Batmobile waits for them in the alley. Drake holds the door open and Damian slides in, adjusting his niece to make sure she's comfortable. She blinks up at him with dark blue eyes.

How strange. He had expected them to be green.

Drake drives them, speaking in short bursts into his comm. Damian brings a hand up to his own, realising rather belatedly that it's muted. Oracle must have grown annoyed at the barage of questions heading his way and silenced them for him.

He'll have to thank her later, once things have settled down.

For now, all his attention is on his little baby niece. What did Danyal say her name was?

Ellie.

Ellie Ellie Ellie.

She reaches up with a small hand, curious, and Damian offers a finger for her to latch on to. Her grip isn't strong, and her hand is small and barely warm.

He holds her closer for the rest of the ride home.

Father wants to take Ellie away for tests. Damian refuses to let go of her, going as far as leveling a sword at anyone who tries.

Drake is the only one who offers to only draw the barest minimum amount of blood for a DNA test, all while Damian holds her.

This, he accepts.

The others hover in his periphery, muttering amongst themselves, but Damian cares little for their thoughts and judgements. He was given Ellie for the sole purpose of caring for her. He will not fail in his duty. If it comes to it that he has to hide away with Mother for the rest of them to calm down, then he will. Surely she'll want to be involved with her granddaughter.

He'll have to tell her about Danyal, anyways.

Father stays at the computer, watching as the results load. He does not look away from the screen to even greet Ellie.

Damian pushes down his bitterness. He knows well the kind of man Father is, now. This is expected of him.

It's Richard that stays by him, hurrying across the Cave with an armful of diapers and baby clothes.

"I wasn't sure what to get, so I got a bit of everything," he explains, setting everything down on the cot where Damian sits with Ellie. Richard cut his patrol short as soon as Danyal left and made an emergency run to the nearest store with baby supplies, pulling sweatpants and a jacket over his Nightwing suit. The collar of the suit peeks out from beneath his jacket, and Damian is sure that it's only the late hour that kept anyone from asking too many questions while Richard was shopping.

"Thank you," Damian mutters. He sets Ellie down carefully, and she blinks up at him with tired eyes. Her face is round with baby fat, but not by much. "How do I…?"

"I think I know how to change a diaper," Richard offers, already pulling a fresh one out of the pack. He gets a small pack of baby wipes out of his pocket and quickly undoes the diaper on Ellie, wiping her down. Damian watches carefully, committing each step to memory as Richard changes her diaper and makes sure she's comfortable.

They're all out of their depths, Damian realizes. Have any of them actually cared for a baby? Pennyworth might have had some idea, and though he died a few years ago, the loss of him aches sharply even now.

"We'll have to figure out how old she is before we get any food for her," Richard murmurs, reaching out to brush a finger against her cheek. His eyes are soft, sad, and Damian lets out a slow breath, relived to know he can trust Richard with Ellie. "What happened?"

It's the question everyone's been asking him, and Damian has refused to answer each time.

But he will answer Richard.

"I saw a person on the edge of the roof as I patrolled. I went down to bring them to safety. He was… I had an older brother who died before I was born. But I know what he looks like. It was him, on that roof."

"You think he came back to life?"

"He must have. He was placed in a Lazarus Pit, but Mother said it didn't bring him back. Perhaps it just took time."

"What made you think it was him, if you've never met him?"

Damian thinks back. The man on the roof was a few years older than Drake, thin and worn-down. His eyes caught Damian's attention first; al Ghul's have very distinctive eyes, and it seems they both inherited that trait from Mother. Beyond that…

Lazarus Pits have magic in them. They wouldn't be able to do what they did without it. Those revived by Lazarus Pits carry some of it with them; it's not Pit Rage, which fades within an hour, but something else that leaves them on the boundary of inhuman. Damian grew up around the Pits and people who used them. He knows what the magic of the Pits feels like, and he could feel it in Danyal.

"I just knew," Damian answers. "Should Mother ever meet him, she'll be able to tell you the same thing: that was Danyal. And this is his daughter."

"Do you know why he left his daughter with you?"

"He asked if Batman was a good father. If I was safe here. Only then did he give Ellie to me."

"He could have stayed to," Richard says, sadness coloring his tone.

Damian doesn't respond. What could he say? Yes, Danyal could have stayed and joined them. He chose not to, for whatever reason. They have not found him yet, and Damian doubts they will find him any time soon.

Danyal is the first son of Talia al Ghul and Bruce Wayne. He will not be found until he wants to be.

Damian will have to wait until then.

The DNA results come back after eight rounds of testing.

Ellie is indeed Damian's niece.

The closest matches to her in the database are Damian and Bruce, which all but confirms that Danyal is indeed the first blood son of the Bat.

Father stares down at Ellie with an unreadable look on his face. He doesn't try to hold her; Damian doesn't know if he should be grateful for this or not.

"I have another son," he says. "And neither you nor your mother ever told me."

"He was dead," Damian answers, "What use would a dead child be to you? Even I never met him until tonight. He was gone long before I was born."

"He's still my son!"

"He's a stranger," Damian bites back. "Why do you pretend to care now? He has never been a part of our lives before. You won't even hold his daughter."

Father flinches back, just slightly, but it's enough to know that the barb hit. Damian gathers Ellie up into his arms and heads for the stairs. "I will be going to sleep now. Ellie will stay with me. You are welcome to stay down here to search for Danyal, or you can get some rest to join me in shopping for Ellie. I will call Mother. Good night."

The others don't have the decency to wait until he's completely out of the Cave before they begin shouting amongst themselves. Damian clicks his tongue and looks down at Ellie, who's sleeping peacefully.

"Let's hope you grow up to have more sense than them," he says to her.

He lays her on top of the blankets, then curls up next to her. It's a long time before he's able to fall asleep.

Mother calls first thing in the morning. Damian's barely had time to brush his teeth before his phone is ringing, and he has to rush to catch it before the call ends.

"Is it true?" she demands as soon as he answers, "Was it Danyal?"

Damian bites back a curse. He said he'd call her. It would have been best if he had been the one to break the news, rather than anyone else, but it doesn't surprise him that no one listened.

"It's true," he says. "Danyal was in Gotham last night. He left his daughter in my care before disappearing. I was unable to speak to him more."

"How can that be," she says, breathless, "It's been decades since his death. The Lazarus Pit never returned him to me."

"It was him. That's all I know."

There's a pause as his mother gathers her composure. Then she says, "I will be in Gotham in a week. I will not be kept out of my granddaughter's life."

"I will make sure we have a room ready for you."

"Good. Take care, habibi."

The call ends without any other fanfare. Damian drops his head with a sigh and tosses his phone back onto his desk.

On his bed, Ellie is sitting up, watching him curiously.

"You and your father have caused a lot of trouble already," he tells her, and she claps her hands together.

When he goes downstairs, he immediately makes note of Drake and Brown's presence with displeasure. His hopes for a quiet morning are dashed before he even reached the kitchen.

"There you are!" Brown says far too loudly. She bounds up to him, ignoring his scowl, and peers at Ellie. "Hm, I'd guess around nine to eleven months, accounting for FTT and some malnutrition."

"FTT?" he repeats.

"Failure to thrive. If infants aren't care for properly, which includes cuddling, then they just… don't grow as they should. They end up smaller and weaker than is expected for their age."

"I imagine she was not taken care of properly, wherever she was before. She wouldn't have been left with me otherwise."

Brown looks troubled, but she blinks it away and smiles when Ellie reaches up to grab at her nose. "Hello there," she says in a soft voice, "I'm your favorite aunt. Don't forget that, alright! I'm your favorite."

Damian pushes her away. "She has no favorites."

"Not yet, but it'll definitely be me when she does!"

"Don't you have anything better to do than bother me?"

"No. But, in all seriousness, me and Tim are here to help. He gave me a rundown and what happened and I still have a bunch of stuff from my pregnancy classes that can help you. We also got some baby food and milk and formula for the baby, since she'll need to eat and be burped. I can walk you through all of that so you can start getting some experience in baby care."

Ah. He had forgotten that Brown had once been pregnant. That she gave away her own baby.

It must be hard for her to be on the other end of that situation, to watch someone take in a baby whose parent couldn't properly care for her, to muster up a smile and all the information she has to make things better.

"I would… appreciate that, Brown."

"Good! Well, lesson one starts now."

She throws open the door to the kitchen, where Drake is pressing the tip of a feeding bottle against the inside of his wrist. "Come here," he says to Damian. "Hold out a hand."

Curious, Damian does as told, and watches as Drake pressed the warm tip of the bottle against his wrist, where liquid splots out onto his skin. "That's about how warm it should be when you feed her. Here." He presses the bottle into Damian's hands, and it takes some adjustment before he can feed Ellie, who starts off slowly, then with more energy.

Brown tosses a rag over his shoulder, and instructs him on how to burp Ellie once she's finished eating. She coughs up some formula, then settles back into his arms, eyes closing as she begins to doze.

"I'll handle shopping," Drake says. "You need a crib, right? Maybe some toys… Just text me a list, I'll get everything."

"Why are you doing all this?" Damian can't help but ask. "We are not exactly… close."

Drake blinks at him, as though he's confused. "Because a baby is a big responsibility. And just because we don't always get along doesn't mean we're not family. She's my neice too. Doesn't she deserve to have more people in her corner?"

Damian can't argue with that, so he nods and lets Drake go to buy whatever he thinks is necessary. Brown lingers in the kitchen, making breakfast for them both in between sneaking glances at Ellie. Usually being watched so obviously would have him on edge and snappy, but he understands the urge to keep looking; he also can't take his eyes off of Ellie.

For someone so small to go through such hardship already… he doesn't understand how anyone can look at her and not want to keep her safe.

He wonders if anyone is keeping Danyal safe.

As much as he wants to go after Danyal, search for his resurrected brother, Ellie takes priority.

She's the one who's here to stay, after all.

Father doesn't come up from the Batcave all day.

Damian tries not to hate him for it.

He doesn't think he succeeds.

(masterpost for all parts)

[shuafiles]

lie to girls [l.jn]

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

MDNI, 18+

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

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

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

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

WORDS | 25.9k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: where are u? need someone to talk to

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

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

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

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

you were there for it all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

what was he doing?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

stop.

stop!

you couldn’t stop.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and two weeks' worth of unread messages from jeno.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

get a hold of yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“bet you’re going to suggest tru-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“jeno.” you breathed, .

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

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

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

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

“i—no.”

“jeno.” you glared at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“does he kiss better than me?”

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

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

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

“i want to kiss you again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“that’s not—jeno, what about karina?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your little secret was eating you alive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

why did he lie about seeing karina?

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

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

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

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

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

“what do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“good, that makes the two of us.”

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

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

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

no. it couldn’t be.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nodded, unable to find the words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

how could he trade what he had for something uncertain?

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

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

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

all jeno could do was nod, although the weight never left his chest. “thanks, jaem, that’s all i needed to hear.” he forced a smile before retreating back to his room.

your laughter echoing through the hall made jeno freeze. what were you doing here? he thought to himself. he curiously opened his bedroom door, trying to eavesdrop.

“sorry, it’s a bit of a mess. i haven’t had time to clean up.” jaemin nervously laughed, trying to chuck away any trash or mess lying around.

you giggled at his nervousness, “it’s fine, jaemin.”

you were here for jaemin, of course. jeno scoffed, shutting his door to try and drown out the noise.

it had been a week since your first date with jaemin, and the two of you had been texting constantly the minute you parted ways. to say he was great would be an understatement—he was perfect. he knew exactly what to say to sweep you off your feet, leaving you smiling and giggling at your phone more often than you’d like to admit. however, as much as jaemin was perfect, your heart had a way of tugging at you, persistently reminding you of the one person you were trying so hard to erase from your mind.

jaemin invited you over to his—and jeno’s—apartment. you were weary of accepting his invitation at first, not wanting to invade jeno’s space, especially after your encounter with him. but jaemin seemed so excited to see you again, and despite everything, you were, too. you decided not to let jeno affect your relationship with jaemin.

you took a seat on the far end of the couch while jaemin sat on the opposite. he shot you a funny look before patting over to the space beside him. “why are you so far?”

you were as nervous as him. you hadn’t been alone with a boy—other than jeno, mark, or haechan—in so long you weren’t sure if you could contain yourself. after all, you are still a very hormonal girl.

“no reason.” you mumbled, but your expression failed you. you were getting goosebumps with the simple chill of the air. jaemin chuckled, deciding to slide over to your side instead. your thighs touching from his sudden proximity.

“you’re cute.” jaemin muttered, his hand moving to brush the stray hair that fell on your face.

“are you sure jeno doesn’t mind that i’m here?” you questioned, facing jaemin.

“you’re literally best friends, i know he doesn’t mind.” he smirked, eyes falling to your lips.

oh, but jeno minded. he minded a lot. it wasn’t his fault that the walls in this apartment were thin. your voices pierced through, hearing your every word, every laugh. his chest tightening with something he couldn’t quite place his finger on—guilt? frustration? jealousy? all he knew was that hearing you with jaemin felt like a knife twisting deeper with every passing second.

“you’re so beautiful.” jaemin mumbled, licking his lips. you placed your hands on his chest, tugging the collar of his shirt slightly closer to you. his breath fanned your face as he inched closer to you. “just wanna kiss you all day.”

you closed the gap between your lips, savoring his taste. jaemin wrapped his arms around your waist, hoisting you so that you were straddling his thighs. you gasped at his suddenness, but you secretly liked it anyway, looping your arms around his neck. he effortlessly slipped his tongue into your mouth, taking control, and you let him. 

you felt his growing bulge beneath you, making you giggle into the kiss. you ground your hips against him, pressing onto his cock, eliciting a groan from him. “who knew you were so naughty, hm?”

jeno had enough. he purposely pulled his door open, making a loud enough commotion to have you and jaemin separate from each other. you were about to hop off jaemin’s lap, but his grip on your hips prevented you from leaving.

“jeno, didn’t know you were here!”

“yeah, well, i live here too.” jeno grumbled, pretending to go to the kitchen and look for a drink. he saw you sitting on jaemin’s lap, and it felt like he was punched in the gut.

from jeno’s point of view, he could only see your face and the back of jaemin’s head. jeno’s eyes locked with yours, his jaw clenched as his gaze flickered to the both of you. your cheeks grew warm, your hands resting awkwardly on jaemin’s shoulders as if unsure where they should be.

“please don’t fuck,” jeno paused, eyes directly fixated on you, his eyes dark. your heart sped up, somehow getting his message. “on the couch.” maybe you were reading too much into it.

jaemin chuckled, his grip on you tightened, and suddenly, he stood up and held you in his arms. you yelped, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. “we’ll move this party elsewhere.” he guided you towards his bedroom, leaving jeno alone in the kitchen with his fist curled up into a ball as he watched you descend into the room.

only a thin wall was separating him from you and jaemin. jeno knew what you two were up to. he sat on his chair, facing his desk, head in his hands as he tried to contain himself. his curiosity got the best of him. he stood up, walking towards the wall that faced jaemin’s room and pressing his ear against the wall.

holy shit. jeno thought. he could hear your soft moans through the mall, his mind flashing back to the night you spent together. the sound immediately traveling to his dick. jaemin either had his fingers or dick in you because the way you were whining for him sounded so pretty.

jeno couldn’t help it, he palmed himself through his pajamas, ear still pressed against the wall.

“fuck, jaemin.” he heard you cry out. he bit his lip, trying to prevent any noise from escaping him as he took his cock out of his bottoms. it didn’t take long before he heard clapping and squelching sounds from the other side of the room.

jeno was upset—upset that he had to listen to another guy fuck you while he pathetically jerked himself off. his fingers wrapped around his length, closing his eyes while he listens to your moans. he imagined you. imagined how you were in his room instead of the other. imagining how it was your fingers wrapped around his cock. he began to stroke himself slowly, his thumb smearing the pre-cum that managed to spurt from his tip.

your moans began to get louder, jeno began picking up his pace. fucking his hand with every sound that left your lips. his mind convinced himself that you were making such pretty noises for him. he contained the grunts that threatened to escape his mouth, lips nearly bleeding from holding back. you began chanting jaemin’s name through breaths, indicating that you were close. jeno continued stroking himself until he came hard with his hand around his length, just from the sound of your moans.

you jolted awake, glancing at the clock, the number 1:43 am on display. after you and jaemin had sex, you immediately passed out, not having a chance to get ready for sleep. jaemin’s arm was lazily wrapped around your waist. you gently pushed it away. your throat felt dry, so you decided to sneak into the kitchen to grab a glass. you picked up the discarded shirt on the ground—most likely jaemin’s—slipped it on, and put on your underwear before tiptoeing out of his room, careful not to make too much noise.

in the midst of chugging down a cold glass of water, the sound of a door opening was heard from the end of the hall. it was jeno’s room. you froze, realizing you were not in proper attire right now. you set the glass on the sink before trying to retreat into jaemin’s room.

“y/n?” jeno’s voice echoed through the hall. you mentally cursed as you got caught, thankful the room was still dark. that was until he met you in the kitchen, hand instinctively reaching for the switch to turn on the overhead lights. his breath hitched once he took in your state. legs bare and nipples hard against your plain white shirt that stopped just below your ass. it was like the universe wanted him to sin. “what are you doing awake?” he managed to let out once his eyes stopped taking in your figure. his voice was rough as if he had just woken up from slumber.

“just thirsty.” you mumbled, cheeks getting warm at your semi-exposed state. jeno wasn’t that covered at all, too. he was in his plaid pajama pants that hung low on his waist, and his chest was bare, his toned abs emphasizing under the dim lights.

jeno hummed, walking carefully towards you. “couldn’t sleep?” 

you nodded, instinctively trying to move further away from him, but you bumped into the kitchen island behind you. trapped, you placed your hands against the counter to support yourself, forcing you to meet his eyes. you couldn’t understand the emotion behind them. your mind was getting hazy from his gaze. as much as you wanted to cower and run away, your feet seemed to stop working for some reason.

jeno leaned in slightly, his arms on either side of you as he gripped the edge of the counter, effectively caging you in. your whole body froze, unsure what to do next. all you know is his scent was once again invading your space. his face was so close to you that it reminded you of the night you spent together.

“why do you keep doing this to me?” he whispered, breath fanning your face.

“i’m not doing anything.” you defended, but your voice came out soft.

“exactly.”

jeno kissed you, and you kissed him back. your arms traveled around his neck, pulling him close to you. notwithstanding the fact that the guy you were seeing was in the other room, merely a few steps away from where you were.

the effect jeno had on you was different, almost perplexing. it was like he knew exactly how to get under your skin—like he knew that you would come crawling back to him like how he would to her.

jeno wrapped his arms around your waist. his tongue effortlessly slid into your mouth, twirling it around yours. suddenly, he hoisted your body so that you were sitting on the island counter, making you gasp through the kiss.

“open your legs for me.” he mumbled, pulling away from your lips.

you did as he told, spreading your legs. he stood in between them, giving you another short kiss before his hands traveled to slightly lift the hem of your shirt, just enough to give him the perfect view of your lacy underwear.

jeno groaned once he saw the wet patch forming between your legs. “you just got fucked two hours ago, and you’re still this wet?”

“how did you—“

“you’re not exactly quiet, sweetheart.”

you cowered, head turning away from him, but his fingers caught your chin, forcing you to look at him. his other hand hooking the waistband of your underwear, playing with it.

“can’t believe you’d rather get fucked by him when i’m right here.”

you glared at him. “this is wrong.”

“do you want me to stop?” you stayed silent, making him smirk. “that’s what i thought.”

jeno pulled your underwear down your legs in a painfully deliberate manner, making you swat his arm. he laughed, letting the fabric fall down the floor.

“keep laughing. i can just wake him up, and he’ll do it for me.”

jeno’s laughter faltered, a dark look in his eyes replacing his playful mood. “not fucking funny.” his hand cupped your core, a small yelp escaping your lips. his fingers ran down your folds, spreading your arousal. 

your hands fell to his shoulders, gripping it as he teased your hole. it felt so wrong, but you had clearly decided to throw your morals out the window long ago.

“don’t like seeing you with him.” jeno admitted, his voice low. his confession was supposed to drive you crazy, instead, it felt unfair—like he wasn’t keeping his end of the deal.

“j-jeno.” you moaned, mindful of the volume of your voice. his fingers circled your entrance, just enough to drive you crazy. “you can’t tell me what to do.” you managed to let out, keeping him in place. it was almost absurd how he had the nerve to admit that he didn’t like seeing you with another guy while having a whole girlfriend himself. you bit your tongue back because, well, he was touching you so good, and quite frankly, you didn’t want him to stop.

“maybe,” he hummed before inserting two digits into your entrance. your head dropped to his shoulder, heavily breathing against his skin. he pulled his fingers out before inserting them again, your wetness coating his digits. “but at least i have you moaning my name like the slut you are.”

jeno thrusted his fingers at a pace that had your vision clouded with stars. your fingernails dug into his skin as he curled his fingers, hitting all your sweet spots. you bit your lip to avoid making too much noise, especially since jaemin was just in the room next to yours. his free hand snaked to your hair, gripping it while pulling your head away from his shoulder—careful not to tug on it too harshly—making you look at him in the eye.

“keep quiet. don’t want loverboy to find you grinding on my hand now, do we?” jeno smirked, making your mouth water.

you squirmed at the stretch of his fingers. when he felt you clench around him, he placed his thumb on your clit, rubbing addicting circles on it. his fingers effortlessly sliding in and out of you. his eye contact was overwhelming as he watched you tremble from his mere touch. 

“oh god.” you cried out, face scrunching from the pleasure. your hips bucked against his hand, desperate to feel more.

jeno’s pajamas grew tighter at the sight of you, wishing nothing more than to bend you over and fuck you senseless on this counter—but he couldn’t. not when you just emerged from the room of one of his closest friends, where you did the same activities he wished he could’ve done with you. so he resorted to making you cum just with his fingers.

“be a good girl,” jeno mumbled, pressing his lips against yours. “and cum for me.” he increased the pace in which he was thrusting his digits, each one accompanied by the slight curl of his fingers.

your back arched just by his words, body pushing into him as small gasps left your lips. he almost smiles at the way you looked. so fucking cute, he thought.

“shit—jeno.” you whimpered. your stomach contracted, a clear sign that you were close. and with his thumb doing miracles on your clit, you couldn’t help but cum all over his fingers.

a string of curse words fell from your lips. legs trembling and breath shaking as you rode out your high. your posture nearly giving up as you tried to compose yourself.

jeno pulled his fingers away from your pussy. he couldn’t resist placing them in his mouth, lapping up your juices while maintaining eye contact with you.

that was so hot.

you swatted his arm, feeling shy, but he only chuckled. he leaned down, grabbing your discarded underwear from the floor. “can i keep this?” he boldly asked.

you pondered for a second before quickly snatching the item from his hand. “and if karina finds it?”

jeno grumbled, shoulders slouching from the thought of his girlfriend. “killjoy.” he muttered.

you hopped off the counter, slipping your underwear on. “i gotta go before jaemin wakes up.”

“right.” jeno mumbled, eyes lingering on you for a second, “no goodnight kiss?” he sure was getting comfortable.

“don’t push it.”

you sneaked back into jaemin’s room. his sleeping figure peacefully lying on the bed, almost in the same position you left him in. you nibbled on your bottom lip as guilt started to creep in. you occupied the space next to him. his unconscious self felt your presence, immediately wrapping his arm around your waist. you decided to close your eyes, slumbering taking over you while the weight of your actions sat on you.

you: i need u where are u mark: ??? i am not your sneaky link you: not like that asshole. need someone to talk to mark: diner? you: be there in 10

your eyes scanned the diner, looking for mark’s blond hair to stand out. spotting him at the corner booth, you slid into the empty seat before him. his head looking up to face you, his usual smile plastered on his face.

“hey, nerd.” mark greeted. “you okay? i thought you wanted to fuck me or something.” he chuckled, nudging his plate of fries close to you.

you groaned, head falling to the table. “i’ve had enough of fucking friends for a lifetime.” you mumbled, voice low.

“what’d you say?”

you lifted your head, crossing your arms on top of the table. “you have to promise not to be mad, okay?” you pouted.

“it depends.”

“mark! i’m serious, i don't think i can't take it anymore.” you groaned.

“is this about jeno?”

“what?” your eyes widened, head tilting at him. “not that i’m saying it is, but why did you think that?”

“it’s obvious. you two aren’t hanging as much as you used to. i just figured you got into a fight or something.” mark shrugged, leaning against the chair.

“before i tell you, you have to promise not to judge and that you won’t think any less of me.”

“alright, fine. i promise.” mark raised his hands in defeat.

you let out a sigh before telling him everything. starting from the night of the party—how that one tiny kiss led to the chaos you were now tangled in. you opened up about your feelings for jeno and how conflicted you were now that jaemin’s in the picture. you told him about how guilty you were for doing this to karina. then you moved on to your encounter at jeno and jaemin’s apartment.

mark’s expression shifted throughout your story. his expression juggling between shocked and confused. his brows furrowed in concern, mouth dropping in shock. he let out tiny coughs whenever the story steered into messy territory, his eyes wandering anywhere but on you, trying his best to keep his promise of not judging you.

when you finally finished summarizing everything to him, you covered your face with your hands, ashamed of your story. although your chest felt lighter at the thought of finally confiding about your situation with someone like you had just ripped open a wound and exposed it to the world.

“wow,” mark started, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “that’s… a lot.”

“i know.” you grumbled, looking down at the table.

“but i’m not mad at you.” he quickly assured, his tone gentle. “and i don’t think less of you. after all, you’re still human, y/n. it must’ve been so confusing for you.” his hand reached across the table, taking your hand in his, in an attempt to comfort you. “i won’t lie, this is really messy, but you’re not a horrible person. you just made bad decisions, but it doesn’t mean you’re bad.”

anxiety washed over you, you wanted to believe his words, but a part of you was convinced he was only saying this because he’s your friend. you shook your head, feeling defeated. “i don’t know, mark. i just… i could’ve stopped it, you know? but i felt stuck.” your throat tightened as the words left your mouth. “i was too caught up in this—this fantasy of mine that i didn’t realize i’d be hurting people.”

mark’s thumb drew small circles on the back of your hand. “hey, we’ll figure it out, okay? the first step is being honest—talk to jeno. if you really regret it, tell him this… thing between you has got to stop. he’s your best friend, y/n, and he has a girlfriend, i know it hurts, but we can’t force things to happen.”

he was right. you couldn’t keep doing this to yourself, especially with other people involved.

“yeah.” you whispered, voice cracking as tears welled in your eyes. “i’m sorry, mark.”

“don’t apologize to me.” mark squeezed your hand. “i’ll support you no matter what, but you have got to clean this up. because the longer you wait, the worse it will get.”

you stood outside the lecture hall where jeno was, shifting your weight from one foot to another as you waited for the bell to dismiss his class.

after your conversation with mark and a sleepless night, you decided to confront jeno. the weight on your chest had become unbearable, and you knew it was time to address everything head-on.

“jeno—” you called out as students began to flood out of the room, but your voice faltered when you saw that karina trailed behind him, naturally reaching for his hand. 

jeno’s head turned at the sound of your voice. his eyes widened when they landed on you, surprise evident in his expression. he hesitated before walking toward you, karina following at his side.

“y/n? what’s wrong?” jeno wondered, his tone soft. you weren’t exactly on speaking terms recently, so you looking for his presence was news to him. karina stood beside him, making your stomach twist uncomfortably. she glanced between the two of you, curiosity and perhaps suspicion flickering across her face.

you gave karina a polite nod, barely meeting her eyes. you couldn’t even face her; seeing him with her stung, and you didn’t even have the right to be hurt. she returned the gesture with a tight, hesitant smile. you always sensed that she wasn’t fond of you, you couldn’t blame her—especially with recent events.

“i need to talk to you,” you pleaded, looking up at him. “alone, please?”

karina’s expression shifted, but she said nothing. jeno glanced at her, silently asking for permission. she gave him a nod as jeno mumbled something you couldn’t hear. she let go of his hand after he let her go with a quick peck on the lips, making you avert your gaze elsewhere—the simple act making your chest tighten with jealousy and guilt tangled together.

jeno returned his gaze to you and gestured his hand for you to lead the way.

you ended up at the park located on campus. given your situation, a secluded area wouldn’t be the best for you right now. you and jeno sat on a bench with the perfect fountain view. chatter could be heard from around you, and it somehow eased your senses.

you stayed quiet, pondering on what to say to him. this morning you woke up with a heavy heart. you spent all night thinking about mark’s advice. the events of the past month haunted you. although your time with jaemin had been filled with warmth and laughter, the guilt clawed at your chest, begging to be released. you felt like you couldn’t entirely give yourself to him without addressing the elephant in the room with jeno.

it was unfair—to jaemin, who had been nothing but kind and sweet, and to yourself, for carrying a weight that wasn’t entirely yours to bear. it was also hypocritical, you were doing to jaemin exactly what you hated that jeno was doing to karina.

“y/n?” jeno’s voice bringing you out of your trance. you lifted your head to face him, his eyes filled with sincerity. “are you okay?”

you looked at him as if he had three heads. here you were, almost drowning in guilt, and he couldn’t even sense you were struggling. “are you serious, jeno?” you scoffed, folding your arms across your chest. the frustration you had bottled up spilled before you could register it. “you’re really asking if i’m okay?”

his eyes widened at your outburst, expression turning soft as he tried to read you. “i just—”

“i can’t take it anymore, jeno.” your voice turned soft, sighing. “this—what we’re doing, we can’t.”

“y/n…”

“can you be honest with me?” you asked. he nodded, gaze intent on you. “do you regret it? what we did?”

jeno paused for a second, scanning your exhausted expression. “i don’t want to hurt you.” he mumbled, voice low.

“that’s the thing, though.” you dryly chuckled, running a hand through your hair. “i’m already hurting. do you think it’s easy for me to see you with her, especially after what we’ve done?”

“what—”

“i like you, jeno.” you confessed, watching as his expression twisted into surprise. “i’ve liked you ever since we were kids, and i thought it was just a silly crush, but it’s not. i keep lying to myself that you’ll like me, that maybe you’ll see me the way i see you.” you spilled before you could even stop the words running out of your mouth. “every time you came to me when you fought, i thought that there was a reason you kept seeing me.” you blinked at him. “and i thought that you kissing me meant that you had the tiniest feelings for me, but you’re still with her, i see the way you look at her.”

“y/n, its not like that—”

“then what is it, jeno?” your voice trembled as you took a shaky breath. “because i—i’m losing my mind here, and you’re being… you’re being mean.”

“mean?”

“yes. you don’t have to lie, okay? i know i’m equally responsible for doing this with you, but i feel like i don’t deserve to be lied to. don’t tell me you’ll take care of things, and don’t tell me not to worry because i’ve been waking up worried ever since that happened! and what we did to jaemin the other day…”

“i’m sorry…”

“you love her, jeno. i get it. but do you have any idea how hard it was for me to see you run to her every time? how hard it was for me to pretend like i’m okay with just being your friend?” tears were threatening to spill from your eyes, and you looked up to prevent them from falling.

“i didn’t—i never meant to make you feel this way, y/n.” the guilt in his eyes was so heavy it made your heart ache.

“then what did you mean to do?” you asked, voice barely audible.

“i don’t know.” jeno admitted, “i’m confused, y/n. i care about you a lot, okay? i really do, but i…”

“you love karina.” you finished for him.

jeno stayed silent, and that was all the confirmation you needed. you stood up abruptly, wiping your tears with the back of your hand before turning around to walk away from him, each step feeling heavier than ever

the sound of hurried footsteps followed you, but you refused to look back, not when you were this vulnerable. before you could take another step, a gentle hand on your arm prevented you from moving any further.

“y/n, wait.” jeno pleaded, softly tugging your arm to turn you. your teary eyes meeting his gaze.

“let me go, jeno.” you clenched your jaw, forcing yourself not to cry.

jeno’s grip softened, but he didn’t let go. “give me time.”

you blinked at him, caught off guard. “what?”

“i—let me sort my thoughts first, okay?” jeno stared down at you, his eyes genuine. “i don’t what i’m doing. y/n. but i know that when i’m with you, it feels…right.”

“that’s not fair.” you frowned, shaking your head. “it’s not fair to her, and it’s not fair to me.” his words did nothing to ease the ache in your heart.

“i know, but…” his eyes never left yours. “i don’t want to lose you.” 

you let out a bitter laugh, wiping your tears. “you don’t get to have it both ways, jeno. you can’t just keep me on the side while you figure yourself out.”

“i’m not trying to,” he said, stepping closer to you. his hand trailed down your arm to hold yours. your eyes widened, and you grew aware of the fact that you were in public. “please, just—wait for me.”

you opened your mouth to respond, to tell him how unfair he was being. but before you could muster up the words, his lips captured yours in a kiss that was soft but so desperate. the action filled with longing, as if it contained all the words he couldn’t say.

the world faded away as if you were the only people there, and all you could feel was him—his lips on yours. you hated yourself for it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

your mouth moved against his before you heard chatter around you, making you push his body off of you. he kept his hand on yours, refusing to let go.

“don’t walk away, yet.” jeno pleaded. “i’ll make things right. i’ll talk to her and figure it out. i promise.”

his words sent a pang through your chest, making you shake your head. “how am i supposed to believe you, jeno? you always went back to her regardless. how do i know this isn’t just another moment you’ll regret?”

jeno pondered for a second, “i’ll be honest with her. i’ll tell her everything.”

“and then what?”

“and then,” he brought your hand up to his mouth, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. “i’ll come and find you.”

your breath hitched at the sincerity of his voice. you wanted to believe him, but the ache banging against your chest reminded you of the risk. taking a deep breath, you stepped back slightly, breaking his hold on your hand.

“i’ll give you time, jeno.” your voice was soft but firm. “but you need to figure this out, really figure it out, before i can even think about…” you trailed off, unsure about what to label the entire situation.

jeno nodded, determination in his eyes. “i’ll call you, okay?”

and with that, you turned and walked away, your heart pounding with both hope and fear as you left him standing there.

the day had slipped into the evening. jeno walked into the halls of his apartment, the soft glow of the sun casting shadows across the room, reminding him how long it had been since your conversation earlier.

he pondered how he would bring the situation up with karina. no matter how hard he tried, he could no longer bury this secret. his mind kept drifting back to you, to how you looked so disappointed in him, and every time it did, his chest tightened with the thought of how things would never be the same again.

jeno loved karina. every time he closed his eyes, there she was—her face, her smile. she was his anchor, the one thing in his life that he couldn’t discard. they knew each other’s flaws and strengths. they argued, but they always bounced back from it. sure, they had their differences, but they always got through it, finding their way to one another.

i’ve always loved her. jeno thought. that’s how it always was.

but you… you were different.

you were his best friend—the one who knew him. you had been there for him since day one. you experienced life together, laughing over stupid inside jokes, supporting different decisions, and comforting each other through the toughest times. you were his safety net. the person who he knew he could rely on when it felt like the world was against him.

jeno sighed, running a hand through his hair. he had always considered you family—how could he not? 

the thought of losing you terrified him. although he would be lying if he said he hadn’t had these flashes filled with thoughts of you. he’s used to dismissing them; it was you, for fuck’s sake. you had been his best friend for so long that even thinking of you differently felt crazy to him. but now, looking back to everything—the way his heart would race when your eyes met in a crowded room, the way his smile would reach his eyes when you laughed at something he said, the way he could always see you in the back of his mind—it all felt so clear.

realization came crashing down on him. his mind racing with thoughts of you. he thought it was just some passing attraction. but it was deeper than that. you were the only person who made him feel seen, the only one who showed him warmth. feelings he couldn’t even seek in karina, despite the love they shared. it terrified him.

he was too scared to admit it. he could no longer pretend. how could he? knowing a part of him belonged to someone else—someone who was not his girlfriend. 

he felt sick, the guilt gnawing at him. he loved karina… didn’t he? his feelings for you were uncertain, fleeting… wasn’t it?

jeno opened the door to his bedroom, and his eyes widened at the sight.

“karina?” jeno questioned, brows furrowing. “what are you doing here?”

“jaemin let me in.” karina replied abruptly. her arms across her chest, an unreadable expression plastered on her face. she was sitting on the edge of the bed as if she was waiting for hours.

jeno set his things down on his desk before approaching karina. instinctively reaching up to kiss her, but she turned her head, his kiss landing on her cheek.

“what’s wrong, babe?” jeno asked, curiosity lacing his voice.

“you tell me.” karina responded, fishing for her phone in her pocket. a confused expression latched on jeno’s face as he watched her tap away on her phone. she raised her phone and shoved it in his face. “care to explain?”

his heart stopped. the color drained from his face as he stared at the photo she was showing.

it was you and jeno—kissing.

he could tell from your outfits that the photo was taken earlier that day, during your heated conversation near campus.

jeno’s mouth went dry as he racked up a response. “i—“ he stammered, words failing to come out.

“don’t try to lie.” karina interrupted, her brow raising. “winter sent it to me. we both know she wouldn’t fabricate such things.”

jeno’s stomach dropped. of course, they were seen, they weren’t exactly keeping it private. “karina…” he started, thinking of words to say to her.

what exactly do you say at this moment? 

“that’s y/n, isn’t it?” karina scoffed, standing up, her height barely meeting his. “i always knew she was a whore.”

“don’t say that.” jeno’s tone shifted, eyes darkening as his voice got firm.

“what?” karina asked incredulously.

“she’s not a whore.”

“are you seriously fucking defending her right now? she kissed you! my boyfriend!” karina spat.

“i kissed her.” jeno admitted, his gaze all over her face.

karina nearly lost balance at his confession. “you—what!” she exclaimed, a frown forming on her lips.

“i kissed y/n.” jeno repeated, his gaze unwavering. “and it isn’t the first time we kissed.”

“what the fuck are you saying?” karina’s voice cracked, disbelief was written all over her face.

“i slept with her on the night of the retreat.”

karina’s eyes widened. “jeno—“

“i started it. i think i’ve known for a while, but i refused to face it.” jeno couldn’t even fathom the words he was spitting out. “i think i’m in love with her.” he admitted, more

the room fell silent at the weight of his confession. the burden lifted off his chest as he comprehended what he had spilled.

“i can’t believe this.” karina shook her head, a bitter, sarcastic laugh slipping past her lips. “after my friends told me i’m way too good for you. you fucking cheated on me? with some bitch?”

“don’t drag her into this. it’s my fault.”

“fuck you.” karina spat, prodding a finger on his chest. “and fuck her, too.”

karina stormed out of the room, pulling the door wide and loud enough to cause a commotion.

jeno called after her, “karina, wait. i’m sorry!” he followed her through the hall.

“sorry?” karina shot back, spinning around to face him. “sorry you got caught, or sorry you have a homewrecker for a best friend?”

jeno winced at her words. “i’m sorry for what i did.” he replied softly. “for hurting you. you didn’t deserve that.”

karina stared up at jeno, eyes glistening as his previous confession came crashing down on her. “i never want to see you again, jeno.” she said, voice breaking before she turned and walked out, slamming the door behind her.

jeno stood frozen in the hallway—the ghost of their conversation haunting the air.

“dude…” jaemin’s voice cut through the thick silence.

jeno turned to the source of his voice, a sullen expression on jaemin’s face. he was standing in the doorway of his room, clearly having heard the entire conversation.

“jaemin!” jeno exclaimed, completely forgetting his roommate was next door. “did you—“

“you’re in love with y/n?” jaemin cut him off, his expression unreadable. he tilted his head as he looked at jeno. “why didn’t you tell me?” he crossed his arms across his chest.

jeno opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. he took a second before letting out a sigh. “i couldn’t—i wasn’t sure.” he admitted.

“did you… sleep with her when we were together?” jaemin treaded lightly, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer.

“no! no, we didn’t.” jeno defended, shaking his head. technically it wasn’t a lie. a little fingering doesn’t count as fucking, right?

“i see.” jaemin nodded, a weary look on his face. “i don’t think i can continue seeing her then.” he frowned, rubbing the back of his neck.

“what?”

“you love her, man.” jaemin sent him a small, sad smile. “i don’t want to stand between you.”

“but you said—“

“don’t get me wrong. she’s beautiful and amazing.” jaemin interrupted, holding a hand up. “but you’ve been there for each other since you were kids. i could never stand a chance.” he shrugged. his expression softening.

jeno swallowed, his chest tightening. he never meant for this to happen. jaemin is one of his best friends, and he had betrayed him. “she likes you, jaems.” 

“but she loves you.” jaemin lifelessly chuckled. he took a step closer to jeno, placing his hand on his shoulder, and giving it a firm squeeze. “go get her, jeno.”

taking a deep breath, jeno smiled at jaemin. he knew what he had to do.

you anxiously stared at your phone, as if guarding it would make a notification pop up.

the entire night had been a blur of pacing around your room. the events of your conversation with jeno are stuck in an endless loop in your mind. you hated feeling this way, as if your heart was at someone else’s mercy.

“come on…” you muttered to yourself, checking your phone once more. nothing. just the same blank lock screen.

you sighed, flopping onto your bed and letting the pillows engulf your head. your chest felt heavy. what took him so long? he said he would fix things—was it a lie? maybe he changed his mind. maybe he—

your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. your heart jumped as you grabbed it, only for your heart to sink even deeper. it wasn’t jeno.

it was jaemin.

jaemin: hey, y/n. jaemin: i’m sorry to message so late. jaemin: i think it’s best if we stop seeing each other. jaemin: i’m sorry.

your head began to spin. your eyes scan his message repeatedly, trying to make sense of it.

what? your mind raced. this wasn’t what you expected. why would jaemin reach out? and why was his timing odd?

your fingers danced over the keyboard, thinking of a response. a hundred of questions swirled in your head. was this because of jeno? did something happen between them? did he find out what happened in his kitchen that one night?

you: did i do something wrong?

jaemin replied almost immediately.

jaemin: you deserve someone who can give you their all, and i don’t think i can. jaemin: take care, y/n.

your brows twisted into confusion. his response made you even more curious. his words sounded kind, almost too rehearsed. it was as if something was missing, and you couldn’t figure out what.

you stared at the screen, blinking at his message. your emotions swirling wildly between confusion, frustration, and hurt. and still nothing from jeno.

what the fuck was going on?

another buzz came from your phone. instantly checking it, your confusion growing deeper.

karina: never knew you were into boys who had girlfriends karina: *sent one photo*

holy shit.

you sat up in bed, heart banging against your chest. eyes refusing to leave the photo of you and jeno, openly kissing each other from earlier.

and karina knows.

your hands trembled, throat feeling tight. you dropped your phone on your bed and rushed out of your room. tears blurred your vision as the gravity of the situation finally sank in. you had no idea what to do, the room felt like it was shrinking by the second. you needed someone.

without thinking, you rushed out of your room and ran to chaewon’s. you banged on her door, your knuckles trembling as tears flowed down your face.

the door opened almost immediately, revealing chaewon in her pajamas, her eyes widening as she saw your state.

“y/n? babe, what’s wrong?” she instinctively wrapped her arms around you, her hand caressing the back of your head to console you.

“i fucked up.” you cried out, sniffling against her shirt, but knowing her, she doesn’t mind. “i didn’t—i wasn’t—” you stammered, head feeling light.

chaewon hummed, “hey, hey, it’s okay. slow down.” she pulled away just enough to see your face, “whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, okay?”

“chae, i—“ you gasped, unable to stop the tears from gushing out. “i need to tell you something.”

soon enough, you both sat on chaewon’s bed while she tried to comfort you. you told her everything, sparing no details. she sat silently while intently listening to your spew. from repeating your confession to mark to your encounter with jeno earlier, down to jaemin’s cryptic texts—and finally, the photo karina had sent you. by the time you finished, chaewon had a worried expression from your entire story.

“y/n…” chaewon began, and you flinched lightly. you knew she was serious; she would usually refer to you using endearments or your nickname, but the lack thereof told you she was not in the mood to tolerate your actions. “this is serious. i love you to death, but you fucked up.”

“i know,” you sniffled, wiping away the tears with the tissue she previously handed to you. “i don’t know what to do.”

chaewon let out a deep sigh, grasping your hand in hers. “first off,” she reached up and helped you wipe your tears. “you need to stop beating yourself up. i know you’re in a sticky situation, but falling apart isn’t going to help you figure it out.”

you nodded, even though her words hadn’t completely eased your mind.

“and second,” she continued, voice growing softer. “i know you won’t like it, but you need to stay away from jeno for a while. let him sort his shit out. give him time.”

even though you refused to face it, the weight of her words eventually sunk in. she was right. it would be unfair for you to force jeno to make his decision immediately, especially since he is in a relationship.

after a long night of sobbing in chaewon’s arms. you eventually passed out beside her, with the thoughts of jeno being the last thing you remembered.

lightning struck across the campus as you exited the library, tugging your coast closer in an attempt to shield yourself from the downpour. you silently cursed yourself for forgetting to bring an umbrella today. looking up at the sky, you wondered if you could bolt through the pouring rain.

it has been a week since your last encounter with jeno. it would be a lie if you said you were doing fine. every passing minute made you even more anxious. he had made some efforts to reach out to you—sending you texts, calling your phone, and even talking to your friends to ask and see you. but your guilt was weighed heavier than your longing, and you had convinced yourself that you couldn’t face him. not yet.

you stuck with chaewon’s advice; you gave him space. although you felt like the distance was killing you more than him.

you missed jeno. how could you not? he was your best friend. you were so used to being so close to him that the space between you was foreign. you missed having him over and talking about everything and nothing all at once. you missed hearing his voice and his comforting laugh. a smile crept up on your face every time you looked back at your memories with him, making you feel ridiculous.

it was foolish of you to think that you could sway him into thinking that you were the one for him. he always loved karina and you were afraid that it was what his heart was heading towards.

you tried reaching out to karina. you sent her an text even though you knew words alone wouldn’t be enough to mend the damage. once you saw that your message bounced back, you tried again on another platform, the same thing happened. you realized she had blocked you on every social media app. you don’t blame her, of course. you had to live with the pain you caused her.

you clutched your bag tightly before running out in the rain. your apartment was a ten-minute walk from campus—maybe less if you ran. the cold droplets seeped through your clothes as you hurried along the wet pavement, shivering as the storm grew.

you nearly reached your apartment when a car screeched to a halt in front of you, its headlights glaring through the rain, clouding your vision. your brows furrowed as you used your hand to shield the bright light. squinting as you tried to make out who was behind the wheel through the rain. the car door opened, revealing a tall figure emerging from the driver’s seat.

jeno.

“what are you doing out here in the rain?” jeno raised his voice enough for you to hear him through the sound of the rain hitting the pavement.

“i didn’t have a choice.” you admitted, your voice trembling from the cold and the sight of him. you watched, puzzled, as he left the warmth of his car to stand in the rain with you, water drenching his hair and clothes.

“aren’t you freezing?” jeno questioned, shrugging off his soaked coat and gently draping it around your shoulders.

“aren’t you?” you looked at him with wide eyes. the rain dripping down his face did him justice, he still looked beautiful.

“you’ve been avoiding me,” he said, tone turning soft. deja vu. “why?”

“i thought you needed time.”

“i said i would come and find you.” his eyes locked on yours.

“karina sent me—“

“i know.” he interrupted. “i told her everything.”

your heart sped up. “how’d she take it?”

“we broke up.” he said, the weather matching his tone. “for real this time.”

“oh.”

“oh?” his brows furrowed, taking a step towards you. “that’s all you have to say? oh?”

“well, what do you want me to say?” you frowned. “thank you for breaking up with your girlfriend for me?”

“i didn’t—you know it wasn’t like that.”

“then what is it, jeno?”

“it’s you.” jeno said. even with the rain surrounding him, you heard him loud and clear. “it’s always been you.”

you blinked up at him, stunned, lips quivering.

“i was too blind to see it,” he continued, stepping closer until your chests were nearly brushing one another. “too scared to admit it. but it’s you, y/n. it’s always been you.”

your heart pounded as he raised his hands to cup your face. his gaze was soft and focused on you. only you.

and then his lips were on yours, warm despite the storm. you melted into the kiss, your hands clutching at his soaked shirt as the noise of the rain started to drown out. the kiss was soft but so full of emotion that it left you breathless.

“jeno…” you whispered once you pulled away, his forehead resting against yours. “i missed you.” you admitted, voice trembling.

“i missed you, too.” he mumbled, his lips brushing yours. “i’m not letting you go again.”

“kiss me.”

jeno didn’t hesitate. his lips found yours once again, kissing you softly but quickly turning passionately. his hand copper your cheek as his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, asking for permission. you parted your lips, and he immediately shoved his tongue in your mouth, exploring it with hunger. a soft whimper escaped you as his hands slid down to grip your waist, pulling you closer.

“need you,” he murmured, pulling away lightly. your gaze flickered briefly towards his car, and as if he had read your mind, he took your hand and guided you to his vehicle.

jeno parked the car on the side of the road, grateful that the rain had driven everyone to stay indoors. the windows fogged almost instantly as you both scrambled into the back seat, the heat between you radiating.

jeno’s hand found you once more, gripping your waist as he pulled you onto his lap. your legs straddling either sides of his thigh. he pressed his lips against yours, kissing you like he had been holding back for years. the rain was pounding on the roof of the car, but neither of you cared.

you could barely think, lost in the sensation of his touch as he slid down your coats. your heart beat against your chest once you made eye contact with him. you could make out the sharp lines of his face through the soft glow of the moon. your hand reaching up to caress his cheek, not believing that you had him in your clutches.

“what’s wrong?” jeno asked. “do you want me to stop?”

“no.” you instantly responded, shaking your head. “i just can’t believe it.”

“can’t believe what?” jeno’s lips trailed down your jawline, kissing and sucking on your skin.

“that you’re mine.”

“better believe it, baby. i’m not going anywhere.” jeno chuckled, kissing you again. his lips molded with yours slowly and sweetly. you pressed your body against his, hips instinctively grinding down on him.

“want you so bad.” jeno groaned, his hand reaching down to the hem of your shirt. looking up to you for confirmation, and when you showed no signs of refusal, he lifted the fabric off your body. leaving you in your soaked dark bra. “my beautiful girl.”

you grew shy beneath his gaze, trailing one finger down to the zipper of his jeans. “how bad?” you breathed, toying with his pants, feeling him grow hard below you.

“so fucking bad. i’ve been dreaming of having you again.” jeno admitted, hands roaming your body. reaching behind you to unclasp your bra—which he did effortlessly. once your breasts were on full display for him, he couldn’t help but attach his mouth to your nipple, enclosing his lips around the bud while his fingers circled the other. you moaned, arching your back, pushing your breasts closer to him.

in a swift motion, jeno’s shirt and pants were pulled off him and discarded somewhere in the car. your bottoms and underwear, too, were slid off your body. leaving the both of you breathless and naked.

jeno laid you down on the backseat, carefully trying to maneuver himself between your legs. his gaze on your completely bare body, all waiting and craving for him.

“you’re driving me insane, did you know that?” jeno mumbled, tracing his fingers over your delicate body. from your chest, down to your stomach, and in between your legs. “couldn’t stop thinking of you. no matter how hard i tried, i could always see your pretty face.”

jeno’s fingers ghosted over your entrance, making your breath hitch. his digits toying with your slick, spreading them up and down your folds. “so wet and ready for me, hm?” he teased, watching you squirm from his touch.

“j-jeno.” you whimpered, hips bucking as he circled your clit.

“so cute,” he whispered, almost entirely to himself. he inserted two fingers into your pussy, making you gasp. your hands fly to his shoulder to grip it for support. “you like that, baby?”

“y-yes, so good.” you cried out, making him smirk. he pulled his fingers out ever so slightly before thrusting them in again. keeping his pace steady as your pussy swallowed his digits.

“want to taste your sweet pussy.” jeno said, pulling his fingers off of you before sliding his body to the floor of the car. “sit up for me, baby.” he instructed, and you immediately followed. sitting up while he kneeled in front of you. “good girl.”

jeno wrapped his arms under and over your thighs, pulling your pussy close to his face. he inhaled your scent before darting his tongue out, licking your folds. you moaned out his name as his tongue circled your clit while his fingers returned to your core. he easily thrust his fingers in, curling them just the way you liked it while his mouth relentlessly sucked on your clit.

“oh god.” you moaned. your hand falling to grip his damp hair, tugging on it.

jeno’s rhythm was perfect. his fingers and tongue were in harmony as he pleasured you. you were a trembling mess from his touch, each movement of his threatening your orgasm to come even closer.

“you’re so fucking sweet.” he hummed against you, sending vibrations throughout your entire body. a jolt of pleasure coursing through you as he pressed his tongue flat against your clit, while his fingers increased in pace. “gonna cum for me, baby?”

you nodded, the familiar tight knot forming in the pit of your stomach. with just a few thrusts of his fingers, you came crashing down. you clenched around him as you rode out your high. his pace decreased while his tongue lapped up your cum. you shivered from the sensation, chest heaving from your orgasm.

jeno smiled before leaning up and pressing a sweet kiss on your lips, tasting remnants of your arousal on his lips. “ready for me, baby?”

“hurry up.”

jeno chuckled, taking a seat beside you. “ride me, princess?” he tilted his head, almost in a pleading manner.

you climbed on his lap, supporting yourself on his shoulder while your other hand reached in between your bodies to align his cock with your entrance. you teasingly rubbed the tip of his length against your slit, watching him bite his lip at the sight.

“stop teasing me. i need you so badly,” jeno grunted, his large hands reaching behind your back.

you smiled before sinking down on his cock, mouth falling agape at his size.

“oh fuck.” you whispered once he was fully buried into you. you caught your lip in between your teeth as your walls adjusted to his cock. his hands rubbing soothing motions on your back as he watched you with dark eyes.

“slowly, baby.” jeno assured, pressing a soft kiss on your lips.

you slowly started to bounce on his cock. the sensation was burning but quickly turned into pleasure. you held onto his shoulders as you increase your pace, 

“fuck, fuck.” jeno chanted, head falling against the headrest. “so tight and warm for me.”

whines slipped past your lips with each bounce, the tip of his cock perfectly kissing your cervix.

“s-so big.” you let out, nails digging into his shoulders.

jeno lifted his head, his eyes falling to your breasts, watching as they bounced right in front of his face. his mouth caught one of your nipples, tongue circling the sensitive bud.

the car shook with every movement you made. the window fogging and the scent of sex filling the air. you gasped as jeno’s fingers reached between your bodies, thumb circling your clit. your legs started to burn from riding him, so you sank further and began grinding on him.

“holy shit.” jeno cursed, pulling away from your nipple. his free hand gripping your hip to guide you, pushing you further down on his cock.

“i-i can’t—“you cried, tears forming in your eyes. legs growing weak with every grind.

“you can do it, baby. fuck yourself on my cock like the good girl you are.”

jeno’s words sent shocks through your body, moaning loudly as you chased your high. the stretch of his cock was enough to cloud your vision with stars. feeling lightheaded as you rocked yourself forward, the friction drove you insane.

“fuck, that’s it, baby. almost there.” jeno groaned, his voice deep.

you were cumming in no time as jeno increased his pace in circling your clit. your body squirming as you clenched around his cock. but jeno’s grip didn’t falter, still guiding you to grind your hips and you did. helping him reach his climax.

“shit—i’m gonna cum. where do you want it?”

“inside, jen.”

“fuck, i love you.” jeno grunted, making your eyes widen. with a throaty moan escaping his lips, his cum painted your walls. you gasped as his cock twitched inside you. catching his breath, he placed a kiss on your lips before flashing you a lazy smile.

“what did you say?” you questioned, an evident smile on your lips.

jeno’s grin faltered, a flush of embarrassment replacing his expression. “i love you, y/n.” he repeated more confidently. “i’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

“i love you, too, jeno.”

relief washed over him as he cupped your cheek, pulling you into a kiss that was slow, sweet, and filled with every unspoken word between you.

in that moment, the outside world ceased to exist. it was just you and jeno, wrapped in a love that had always been there.

“do we have to go?” jeno groaned dramatically, burying himself under your covers as if the mere thought of leaving your apartment was too much to bear.

you couldn’t help but giggle at him. grabbing his shirt from the ground and putting it on. the oversized fabric falling just above your thighs. “yes, jeno. we promised them, remember?”

jeno peeked beneath the comforter, his dark and messy hair sticking up in different directions. his gaze falling to your almost bare state. he sat up to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap, making you squeal. “why go to some party, when we could just stay here? in bed? loving each other?”

you playfully smacked his arm, although secretly loving his treatment. “because, baby, we said we’d be there. and besides,” you added, turning to face him with a smirk. “don’t you want to show off your girlfriend?”

the corner of jeno’s mouth lifted into a wide grin. “girlfriend, huh?” his voice laced with pride. “let’s go. but only because i love the sound of that.”

the loud music echoed throughout the house party. you and jeno entered together, his fingers intertwined with yours. as you both navigated the crowd, you spotted chaewon, mark, and haechan all hunched up together near the kitchen.

“y/n! jeno!” chaewon greeted, sending a wave over to the both of you. “what took you so long?” she engulfed you into a hug.

you returned her hug with a laugh. “it’s his fault.” you teased, nodding in jeno’s direction.

“hogging our girl all to yourself, lee?” mark raised a brow, smirking as he took a sip from his cup.

“correction,” jeno playfully glared, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. “she’s my girl.”

“barf.” haechan made a gagging motion, scrunching his face. “can’t believe we lived to see the day these two finally get together.”

“finally?” jeno questioned, a knowing smirk on his face as he faced you.

“y/n had a massive crush on you—” haechan singsong tone was cut short by your swift swat to his arm.

“okay, that’s enough!” you interrupted, dragging jeno away to grab some drinks. “let’s get drunk, shall we?”

jeno chuckled, pulling your body flush against him. he captured your lips into a soft kiss, the chaos of the party fading into the background.

as the night went on, the teasing and laughter continued. jeno stayed close, his hand never leaving yours. it felt good—natural—to finally not be afraid. throughout the evening, you caught him staring at you on multiple occasions. his eyes filled with adoration every single time, your heart felt content, and you knew this was exactly where you were meant to be.

[swordgrace]

& 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈’𝐌 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ gwayne hightower x wife!reader.

SYNOPSIS: you and your husband decide to take advantage of the quiet gardens near the red keep.

anonymous request.

{ FORMAT: drabble — requested by anonymous.

{ WORD COUNT: 4.1K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), porn with little plot, risk of getting caught, semi-public sex, gwayne is a switch, cunt-drunk gwayne, sex in the red keep gardens, teasing, hair-pulling kink, oral sex (fem!rec), cunnilingus, groping, making out, dirty talk, mild praise kink, p in v sex (unprotected), mild scratching, soft ending.

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: I am on the Gwayne train right now, I just adore writing for him. This is a smaller story, and I think writing some drabbles might do me a bit of good! I hope that you all enjoy! ❤️ Thanks so much for the love & support!

𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐩, 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐚.

The smell was akin to a perfumed dowager, the air thick with roses and honey, petals drifting along in the evening breeze. It was a stark contrast to the pungent scent of the rest of the city — perhaps that is why you favored the gardens.

Orange tendrils of a waning sun spread across the leaves, verdant and bright, turning the gardens all sorts of colors — shades of emerald and gold, intermingling with the many flowers there.

Most souls that had occupied the gardens had made themselves scarce, turning it into a paradise that only you shared with another. You often admired the general splendor even when it was crowded, but now, it gave you a rather unobstructed view.

The various palette of the gardens, particularly any deeper shades of forest-green, matched that of your husband’s doublet, embroidered with golden thread. It was strange to see Gwayne removed from his armor, his silvery vassal that kept him well-protected.

In the aftermath of Rook’s Rest, there were days spent in respite, much to your delight. Though, war would steal him away from you again — you intended on making the most out of each moment, beseeching him to remain by your side. He obliged you, fortunately, and you never objected to it.

A golden hour, brightest before dusk, painted you in shades that Gwayne had committed to memory, your features bathed in dying light. You were swathed in gowns of cerulean, a deeper shade of azure that had brought him to heel when you emerged with it on.

Merrily, he often touted that he had the most beautiful wife in all of the realm, and such a sentiment didn’t change nor waver. It was resolute, done with a fondness that made its way to you.

“Perhaps, once this conflict comes to a close, you and I shall return to Oldtown,” Gwayne’s gallant resonance cut through the contented silence, his timbre often filled with regality, the elegant poise of a well-learned Knight. “I’ve grown surfeited by this grisly place.”

If Gwayne had not been so proficient with a blade, you suspected that a quill and his sharp tongue would’ve done him a world of good in another lifetime. His flowery speech had charmed you time and time again, and you were left captivated.

Oldtown had become your home, a sanctuary of which you and Gwayne had built a peaceful life together. With Prince Daeron in your care, it was something of a family — one that you suspected would grow in the near future.

“As have I,” With a gentle sigh, your fingers danced along his velvet-clad forearm, your arm interlaced with his as he led you through the teeming labyrinth. At twilight, it had become wonderfully quiet, a place of solace away from the bustling hum of the Red Keep. “It is a dour place.”

Dour was a mere understatement — Gwayne knew what harm this city could do, crushed beneath the oppressive weight of the Red Keep. Even in its architectural splendor, it remained a shadow, haunting your every step as it loomed above the both of you.

Even in the sanctuary of the Gardens, one could not escape it. He did not envy his sister for being sequestered here for most of her lifetime — he imagined that it likely led to a path of misfortune and frustration. Being in Oldtown, he could afford many liberties, freedoms that weren’t permitted in King’s Landing.

As you continued on your path, a stone terrace opened before you, a comely overlook with a sizable gazebo, marked by dimly-lit torches. Save for the picturesque view of Blackwater Bay, it was surrounded by foliage and flora on all sides.

Gwayne felt your concern in waves, an unspoken sentiment, knowing that he would be called to leave again. Cole’s armies were rallying to march to Harrenhal, and he was summoned to ride alongside him, the second-in-command. You had made your disdain for this known, and Gwayne couldn’t fault you for it.

“I would sorely dislike it if our time together was to be spent in silence,” He watched you through cerulean hues as you rounded the gazebo, moving toward the overlook. Waves gently lapped at the outcropping of rock, breaking upon it, saltwater kisses peppering your cheeks. “I have a duty, dearest.”

A begrudging sigh tore past your lips, and you staved off the sudden onslaught of turmoil. You had come to-terms with the inevitability of his departure — you had dealt with it once before, but the sting never lessened. “I understand. I loathe you and love you for it.” You murmured, your smile threadbare.

Your answer retained a twinge of lightheartedness to it, in the face of a bleak future. Gwayne couldn’t help but scoff, visage dancing with amusement as he stepped toward one of the massive walls of gardenias. Plucking a pale blossom from its stem, he crossed the stone to you, a gesture of affection.

“Loathe me, is that it?” Gwayne wouldn’t have your last moments together spent in melancholy — and you seemed to be in agreement. He placed the blossom behind your ear, carefully tucking it into place. “Have I vexed you so easily?”

Planting a palm against his chest, you allowed your fingertips to trace across plated velvet, dancing toward the Hightower sigil, embroidered into the collar. He was resplendent in noblemen’s garb, painfully handsome and fresh-faced, save for the healing cut upon his lip and bruised brow.

A taut, muscled arm moved to snake around your waist, effortlessly caging you in against him. Your saccharine scent invaded his senses, swarming around his head like a thick haze, one that he delighted in. Beneath the evening sky, he made his ardor for you known, a real and living thing.

“You are swift to credit yourself, husband. I may resort to knocking you from your pedestal.” You teased, tender voice growing softer, a mere purr to his ears. Gods, you were wonderfully divine — Gwayne brazenly squeezed your hip through your gowns, auburn brows lifting in amusement.

Instead of puffing his chest with a playful retort, Gwayne could no longer resist the tempting curve of your lips, craning down to kiss you. It was a sweet mingling of mouths, slow and exploratory, happy to take their time with one another.

The first inklings of an amorous heat crackled between the both of you, a rapturous hunger that hadn’t been sated since he returned from Rook’s Rest. You simply could not get enough of your beloved husband, hands clamoring from his plush doublet to his mane of copper tresses, gripping them tightly.

Even with the thicker material of your dress, Gwayne greedily grasped at your curves, able to feel the pliant swell of your physique beneath. You had already seduced him with your steep necklace and ample bosom — sometimes, you were more of a salacious minx than you were a maiden. He enjoyed you both ways.

Your chambers in the Red Keep seemed so far away, and neediness began to take root, desire flourishing where propriety could not. As you insistently tugged upon his auburn locks, Gwayne felt his cock stir to life within his trousers, twitching as if to remind him of his carnal need for you.

“Incomparable, I must confess,” Gwayne exhaled, hot breath fluttering across your visage. Hints of wine retained their presence upon his tongue, skin smelling of woodland musk and fine soaps. “Not a single wandering eye to find us here.” His timbre dropped into a delectable purr, lips pressing themselves to the curve of your jaw.

Exhilaration struck at the pit of your stomach, coupled with the familiar wave of arousal, its inklings slick and warm between your legs. “What are you implying, husband?” You asked, breathy and wanton, clinging to him like a drowning woman.

A low, teasing hum slipped betwixt his lips, mouth molding to your flesh, gliding across the slender column of your throat. One hand dropped to cup your derrière through the thicker material of your dress, longing to see it around your feet, instead.

A sheepish moan tore past your mouth, unabashedly stoking the fire that simmered between the both of you. Gwayne greedily lapped at your sweet skin, like a thick honey upon his tongue. “It is just you and I, sweetling. Might you indulge me?” He hummed, desperate to have you now that desire had taken hold.

Gods, you wanted him terribly.

It was a fascinating twist, with Gwayne wanting to have you here, given the publicity of the locale. He was often a man to take you to your chambers in the name of chivalry, but this daring, yearning side to him — you quite enjoyed it, his change of heart.

“Gods, I love you.” You sighed, feeling him relocate the both of you towards one of the thick, stone columns that held the gazebo aloft. It was rough against your back, but you cared little for it, hastily unlacing the bodice of your dress. The silken smallclothes you wore beneath would suffice.

A low, stifled groan escaped Gwayne’s mouth, cerulean hues sharp and amatory, roving over you with a thinly-veiled desire. “Seven Hells, you drive me to the brink of madness, wife.” He murmured, swiftly relieving you of that mound of azure velvet.

The simple slip you wore beneath clung to your curves, accentuating your physique in pale shades of ivory, nipples peeking through the thin material. His hand slithered beneath, seeking to find the slick heat of your cunt, pushing your legs apart with his thigh.

Gathering your slip within your hands, you tugged the material up, until it pooled around the swell of your hips, giving him unhindered access. Gwayne careened forward, mouth colliding with yours, lips desperately craving every fiber of your being.

His other hand moved to cup your breast through your gown, thumb languidly swiping over your pebbled nipple, teasing the bud as he rolled it between his fingers. A sharp, noisy gasp escaped you, followed by the unrestrained sound of a moan.

Your hands clamored to perch atop his shoulders, sinking down into the velvet, longing to see him naked. If you closed your eyes, it was easy to imagine, but you desired the real thing. With haste, your digits slipped toward the line of golden clasps along the front, aiming to get it unbuttoned.

“You minx.” Gwayne panted into your mouth, digits beginning to stroke along your slit. Much to his delight, you were already warmed, wet and honey-thick upon his fingers. Lips twined in hot clashes, and he never allowed it to devolve into something sloppy. Each kiss possessed meaning, a fervent love for you.

As you unclasped his doublet, he moved his arms enough to relinquish the stuffy weight of the fabric, musculature lean and taut, his skin pale and glittering in the gentle twilight. It let you squeeze his shoulders, tracing over the freckles there, reveling in his bare flesh.

Gwayne released a few breathy ‘I love you’s’ into your lips, before he relocated to the sensitive column of your throat. He spoke with reverence, as if he had come to worship his goddess, lay himself down at your feet. Your fingers wove themselves against the nape of his neck, tugging on his copper locks.

Practiced, dexterous digits continued to caress along your cunt, before pushing past your folds. He grazed your clit, sending a rush of goosebumps cascading down the length of your spine. “Gwayne,” You moaned, the sweetest melody to his ears as you rocked forward, desperate for any shred of friction. “Please!”

His cock twitched again within his breeches, aching with something powerful, needing to be inside of you. Patience was his virtue and his agony — he still wanted to taste your first. He continued to knead into your breast, evoking another blissful whine from you.

Despite wearing his honor and chivalry like a coat of armor, he cared little for the consequences of potentially being caught. He would ravish his beloved wife here in these gardens — there was no sin in such an act. Kissing along your jugular, he felt you grip and pull on his hair, filling him with an excitable fire.

“Gods, I must taste you,” Gwayne groaned, voice tinged with an alluring husk, palm continuing to caress the plush swell of your breast. The thin, silken strap of your slip began to sag, and he did not fix it, exposed to the unblemished plane of your collarbone. “If you will permit me to do so.”

“You needn’t ask, husband,” A wanton whimper left you when Gwayne’s digits abandoned your cunt, though it would soon be replaced with the fine heat of his greedy tongue. Through a lovesick gaze, you observed in rapturous silence as Gwayne sank to his knees, as if he were preparing to pray. “I belong to you.”

Watching his auburn crown move towards the apex of your thighs was a most tantalizing sight, causing your breath to hitch within your throat. Molten heat surged within your belly, churning with a violent anticipation as you braced one hand atop his shoulder.

A sight to die for, to kill for — Gwayne would’ve fought a thousand battles if it meant that you were the reward at the very end, a resplendent maiden in all of your glory. He would’ve endured torture unimaginable for you, razed down armies, destroyed cities all for you.

The first lap of his tongue caused your knees to buckle, raking hot embers across your cunt. He wedged his way in between your legs, shoulders keeping you apart just enough. Gwayne was quite candid about his enjoyment of tasting you — thoroughly cunt-struck.

A groan stirred within his chest as your fingers grazed through his copper tresses, finding their purchase near the base of his skull. He did not relent, tongue carefully splitting past your folds, greeted by the saccharine onslaught of your arousal.

“Gwayne.” A breathy sigh tore past your parted lips, lulled into subservience from the steady, exploratory laps of his tongue. He was sluggish, allowing the anticipation to mount, nose brushing along your mound.

Your taste was ambrosial, thick and heady, like a haze that he had no desire to escape from. There were many moments where he’d dreamed of this, on the march to Rook’s Rest, sprawled across his cot, fantasizing of you again and again.

He quite enjoyed the way in which you sighed his name, passion bubbling forth from your chest, head rolled back against the stone column. Careworn palms reached for your haunches, delighted to take their fill of you, caressing along the backs of your thighs.

“Exquisite,” Gwayne exhaled, catching his breath to press a string of kisses all along the inside of your thighs. “By the Seven, you taste divine.” He groaned, drunk and dizzy from your cunt. A soft moan escaped you as you coaxed him back, and he willingly obliged.

With another hot, eager lap of his tongue over your core, your knees rattled like leaves in the breeze, feeling his shoulders bully their way between your legs. A brusque, warm breeze fluttered throughout the gazebo, bathed in the waning light of the sunset. Stars began to glisten overhead, unhindered by the clouds.

Gwayne’s eagerness was palpable, able to be felt as he buried his face into your cunt, cerulean eyes fluttering shut in an expression of bliss. A groan stirred within his throat, fluttering throughout his chest as you fisted his auburn tresses, soft beneath your palms.

You could not get enough of him, keeping your hands on him in whatever way you could, chest heaving with wanton sighs. Carnality and desire permeated the air, the atmosphere thick with desperation. You always treated each moment as if it would be your last.

His mouth fervently worked against your slick cunt, sending pleasant shockwaves into the pit of your stomach. Goosebumps danced along your spine, followed by a shiver that made you moan. Your hips rolled forward, shamelessly grinding yourself into your husband’s waiting lips.

With a flick of his tongue, Gwayne sought the pearl of your cunt, lips eagerly kissing their way to your clit. He planted feather-light kisses around that sensitive clutch of nerves, causing you to tremble, digits tightening within his hair. Your grip was ironclad, but it was pleasurable for him, knowing you were enjoying yourself.

“Gods, Gwayne,” You whined, listening to the lewd noises of your chivalrous paramour suckling on your clit. Another onslaught of molten heat swirled within your stomach, seeping into your bones, manifesting as arousal between your thighs. “Do — Do not stop!” The urgency in your voice had increased exponentially.

If there were any evening stragglers in the Royal Gardens, you prayed to the Seven that they would not stumble upon the both of you.

The sight itself was inherently sinful, with you haplessly pressed against the stone column, gallant dress strewn across the ground, slip sagging along your physique. Gwayne’s emerald doublet had joined your garments below. You reveled in the sight of his head between your thighs, causing you to whimper.

Gwayne could detect when you were accelerating towards your release, able to feel the twitches and tremors in your thighs. He soothingly stroked along your silky flesh, interchanging between the greedy suckling of your clit, to long, broad strokes of his tongue.

His lips glistened with a sticky sheen of your nectar, of a finer stout than many, more delectable than any wine that had befallen his mouth. Gwayne worshiped you, kissed the ground you walked upon, and he did not feel an ounce of shame in it.

His cock throbbed with a desperate ache, precum slick around the head as it strained against his trousers. Your own satisfaction spurred him on, and your delightful noises only sent him spiraling into the depths of depravity. You hadn’t a clue of the things you did to him.

In a brazen maneuver, his tongue prodded against your entrance, gingerly thrusting inside of you. You gasped, biting at the inside of your cheek, digits raking through his auburn locks. You let your grip loosen, hips careening forward into his mouth again.

Gwayne ravished you, with the ravenous appetite of a starving dog. He moved back just enough to lap at your cunt, making a blazing trail from your entrance to your clit. “I’m close,” You huffed, issuing some warning to him before the dam had burst altogether. “Gwayne!”

It was the only word you knew in the present, his name — it rolled from your tongue in a delighted cry, laced with ardor and reverence. You reached your peak, shamelessly spilling yourself upon his tongue, and he was enamored with you.

With careful, sluggish strokes of his tongue, he delicately cleaned the mess he made of you, allowing you to bring yourself down from your peak. Even if the intensity had made you burn at a fever pitch, you were far from finished, tugging on Gwayne’s tresses to get his attention.

“Take me, husband,” It wasn’t a request — it was a demand, a command made upon a yearning wife. Desire glistened like a thick sheen within his cerulean eyes, which happened to widen at the sight of you. “Please.” You didn’t have to beg — Gwayne wanted you just as terribly.

He swiftly rose from between your legs, pupils dilated with lust as he steered you toward the stone bannister of the overlook, wide enough to support you. You sat down, hastily fumbling with the leather ties of his trousers. Gwayne parted your legs again, bending over you as he sought your mouth.

The taste of arousal — yours — fell heavy upon your tongue, lips clashing together as you desperately sought to free his cock from its confines. “I need you,” Gwayne husked against your mouth, pearlescent teeth briefly snagging on your lower lip. “Gods, how I’ve missed this, missed you.”

“Gwayne,” A moan escaped you, intermingling with his husky pants and sonorous groans. His forehead nudged against yours, lips hot and needy, and you were more than happy to reciprocate. “I need you, I …” Your voice tapered off when his cock slid against your folds.

He kept you steady, hands caging you against the bannister, the stone biting into your back as he kept you at an angle. Silk gathered around your hips, friction wafting between the both of you as he thrust forward, cock sinking into you.

Hitching a leg around his waist as best as you could, your hands roamed to his chest, nails digging into his collarbone as he began to find an erratic pace. He was loving and passionate, even still, but there was something inherently quick about his rhythm.

Perspiration glittered along his brow from the warm evening, yet it did not stop him from pounding away at you. His cock filled you perfectly, providing a delectable stretch that made your toes curl. It wasn’t an intimidating thing, but it was pretty, just like the rest of him.

Through his clenched teeth, Gwayne sang your praises, savoring the way in which your cunt constricted around him, as if drawing him in. “Seven Hells, your cunt is perfection,” Such lewd, crass words sounded so eloquent coming from his lips, as debonair as a Prince. “I cannot get enough of you, sweet wife.” He groaned.

Despite his crudely-spoken compliment, you were lost within the throes of your own pleasure, body rocked into submission by each snap of his hips. His cock bottomed out within you, movements swift yet punctuated, as if every thrust possessed meaning.

You loved Gwayne unconditionally — perhaps too much, if such a thing were possible. Your chest heaved with sweet, passionate sighs and gentle moans, forehead occasionally brushing against his. His hands kept themselves firm along your waist, curling into the silk of your slip.

His cock battered away at your slick cunt, aided by your mounting arousal. Everything felt so feverishly warm, as if you had been set ablaze, nerves feeling like they were steeped in fire. “More,” You moaned, and it effectively caught Gwayne’s attention. “Gwayne, please.” He was weak to your soft pleas.

Your beloved husband lacked harshness when it came to intimacy, something you adored about him. Even when his thrusts became desperate and erratic, chasing after his release, he never resorted to using you. His lips sought the column of your throat, nose brushing along your jugular.

A string of kisses peppered themselves against your sweet flesh, with the occasional suckling of his lips to your neck. A myriad of throaty whines and whimpers continued to leave you in droves, cunt pathetically clenching around him.

Buckling forward, Gwayne planted one palm against the stone bannister, the other caging in around you as he continued to pound away into your needy cunt. He kissed you wherever he could, dwindling into desperation and the innate desire to taste your sweet flesh.

His lips parted slightly, a strained grunt escaping him as he thrust forward again, until there was nowhere left for him to go. Gwayne pulled back just enough, the head of his cock still inside of you before he moved forward again. The friction made you shiver, fingers grasping at the nape of his neck.

His name continued to slip from your mouth, over and over again, like a whispered prayer. Your nails left behind red crescents upon his skin, sharp brands of your lovemaking. Gwayne groaned against your throat, desiring to kiss you once more, lips laying claim to yours with a fervor.

With another snap of his hips, Gwayne shuddered, nearly collapsing into you as he reached his peak. Hot ropes of seed brazenly spilled inside of you, warming your insides as he attempted to catch his breath. You pressed your forehead to his, breathing with him, allowing your hands to slack.

Gwayne politely removed himself from you, mindful of your garments as he fixed your gown back into place. The slip itself was disheveled, but he ensured its tidiness before you got dressed again.

“How divine you are,” Gwayne hummed, planting gentle kisses along the side of your face before it ended at the curve of your jaw. “Beautiful beyond comprehension.” He murmured, using two digits to delicately place the strap of your slip back upon your shoulder.

“You flatter me, husband,” Your smile was warm and amiable, the brightness of springtime, bringing a rosy flush to his features. “I quite enjoyed your brazen streak.” Through a smitten confession, Gwayne kissed your brow, lips twitching into a debonair smirk.

“I am not ashamed of ravishing my wife, be it in our chambers or in the garden,” He replied, reaching for his velveteen doublet and your azure dress. It was easy for him to slip back into the stuffy material, and he was more than happy to assist you. “I cannot get enough of you.”

His words were tantalizing, as if intended to bring about another string of salacious thoughts. Gwayne stood behind you as you stepped back into your dress, helping to lace your bodice up again. He planted a kiss along your exposed shoulder, and then to the crook of your neck.

You reached for his hand, letting it drape across your shoulder as you pressed a delicate kiss against his bruised knuckles. “You shall have me, Gwayne — for as long as you desire me.” You sighed, feeling his nose brush along your cheek, the warmth of his body pressing in behind you.

With a kiss to your temple, one oozing with such fondness and ardor that you feared you might melt, Gwayne’s lips hovered near the shell of your ear. In the twinkling dusk, he held you close. “Forever, then.”

[genshin-obsessed]

Helloooo~!! Could I request the men in honkai star rail with an s/o who makes various different plushies for themselves and the men?

Just imagine Dan Heng getting a chonky dragon plushie version of himself.

✩ ‒ You guys have the most creative ideas sometimes lmao I would’ve never thought of this and it is such a cute idea!!

✩ ‒ I wasn't going to do everyone but they came out really short so I made it up by adding more characters ^w^

✩ ‒ Characters: Caelus, Dan Heng, Welt, Gepard, Sampo, Luocha, Jing Yuan, Blade

✩ ‒ Caelus

He’s not the biggest plushie guy out there, but come on. You made it so cute and all.

He keeps it safe in his room and does a pretty good job at keeping it clean. Like dust free and all.

Caelus isn’t ashamed of it by any means, everyone knows about it. He just doesn’t want to end up tearing it or something which is why it's always in his room.

Big fan. You made a couple of yourself and he keeps them together. They're together like the two of you are. He’s debating on getting a dedicated shelf.

✩ ‒ Dan Heng

He originally received two. One of his normal self and then his Vidyadhara half. It’s so accurate, too. He definitely spent a few hours analyzing them both.

He wasn’t sure at first but the longer he had it, the more he began to like it. He kinda sleeps with it now. I mean... they're just on his bed and that's where he sleeps...

You’re welcome to make more but he doesn’t have room to place them. Besides�� how many could you possibly make?

He actually likes the little dragon one. It’s so cute, the details are well done, and you seem to really like it too.

✩ ‒ Welt

Aww, a plushie for him? It was so cute! It even had his lil cane and all. Honestly, Welt loves it.

He keeps it with him all the time. When you often go off on missions, he likes to hold it for comfort.

When you made one of yourself, he decided the plushies could never be separated- much like you two. So, basically now he carries two plushies with him at all times.

Pom Pom and Himeko gush over the cuteness of the plushie. You’re really talented, why not start a business at this point? You'll definitely get March or Stelle asking for one too.

✩ ‒ Gepard

He was confused at first. Why did you make a plushie of him? But he really liked it. You even got the shield right.

He prefers it to stay at home where his fellow guards can’t see it because it’s a little embarrassing. He’s a grown man and all.

Ok, but it’s so cute. The little hair, the outfit- the shield! Come on? How is he supposed to remain composed? He will stare at it sadly when he has to go to work.

He had to admit, when you made one of yourself it felt complete. The plushies are always sitting together on his bed. Sometimes, he'll even put a blanket over them to keep them warm.

✩ ‒ Sampo

Omg once he gets one, it's on his person permanently. He loves seeing you work on them, too. It gives him a perspective on how much work you put into them

He’ll give suggestions all the time and you do make most of them. You often make yourself as well and it leads to lots of matching plushies.

Sampo did try to make one himself but it looked horrendous. He tried to throw it away but you wouldn’t let him!

That thing haunts his dreams but you like it for whatever reason. Honestly, Sampo takes that thing everywhere and even learned how to wash it properly.

✩ ‒ Luocha

The accuracy. His hair, eyes, outfit, the coffin- it even opens! Like, the effort that went into that was phenomenal.

Luocha is a big fan and does keep the plushie with him during his travels but keeps it hidden. It's something that reminds him of you (ironic since it looks like him).

He’s rather protective of the plushie. Someone once tried to take it and well… he almost stuffed them in the coffin. Lmao jk.

… ok, he did it once and never again, you can’t judge him, that’s his plushie. You gave it to him, not that rando. And no, it wasn't a kid! Why do people keep asking him that?

✩ ‒ Jing Yuan

Mind blown. Seriously, the talent that took was incredible! You even made a Lightning Lord plushie which attaches to the Jing Yuan one.

He keeps them on his desk at work and no one is allowed to touch them. He's worried others might damage them, but he wants to show them off at the same time.

He keeps the one you made of yourself with him though. It’s his good luck charm. Much like you.

Secretly hates tearing apart the plushie version of you and him. Heartbreaking when they have to see each other go. Sniff.

✩ ‒ Blade

Ok, listen. This is Blade we’re talking about. He can’t just be seen carrying a plushie- and of himself, no less. It’s embarrassing.

Is what he thought until he saw how sad you got when you found out he left it in a drawer. On the pain in his heart…

Now he keeps it on his person all the time. He even learned how to wash it because it’ll get dirty sometimes. No blood gets on it though, don't worry. Just some minor dirt or something.

For tougher missions, he puts the plushie in a plastic bag to keep it safe. It’s like a good luck charm of his. He lost it once and he almost had a heart attack.

[madaqueue]

SUCK HIS...GLOCK?!

the sensationalized bullshit around some dangerous serial killer tormenting the city is honestly pathetic. so no, you don't see the point in changing your routine, because you aren't a coward like everyone else. that is, until one wrong turn brings you face to face with him.

pairing: serial killer!toji x f!reader

themes/content: dark content (gunplay, dubcon). smut. petnames (pretty, doll, slut), mentions of past murders, teasing, reader is kind of mean to toji lmao, begging, licking/deepthroating a gun, oral (m!receiving). 18+, MDNI (wk: 2.0k)

a/n: i would match his freak (he would literally kill me) (also sorry this title is so stupid but it made me laugh hahahaha)

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“There’s a serial killer on the loose!”

Everyday for the past week the message had been drilled into your mind - every news station, every text from your parents, every thought from the general public seemed to vibrate in sheer terror at the mere idea of some illusive murderer. And yet, you can’t help but roll your eyes at the theatrics.

A serial killer, seriously?

You thought everyone outgrew this overdramatic bullshit when they turned thirteen or something. The fact that not even fully grown adults dared to go outside out of fear just solidified how truly pathetic everyone had become.

So, you take the opportunity for what it is, boots echoing along the empty streets as you enjoy a barren town. Dead leaves blow along the sidewalk in front of you, scurrying out of your path. It’s a nice day, you think, the breeze tickling your skin and the sun warm despite the autumn chill settling in. Of course you weren’t going to miss it, your footsteps falling louder and more determined with each step.

Because you weren’t a coward.

A particularly cold wind brushes past you, the muscles in your legs shivering on instinct. Reaching into your jacket to check the time, you find your pockets empty save for a few hair ties and a small wad of cash. The image of your phone resting on your kitchen counter flashes across your memory for a moment as you silently grumble at your own forgetfulness.

But it’s no matter, you’ll just head straight home. Everything will be fine, you reassure yourself in an effort to shove down the growing nervousness in your stomach.

Rounding the corner, your vision catches an alleyway you’ve seen a few times on walks home with friends. Surely, that would get you home even faster, a real stroke of fate. Your feet stall for a second as you gaze down it, the darkness of surrounding buildings casting a haunting shadow. Taking a steadying breath, you will yourself forward.

Because you aren’t a coward.

Shoving your hands further into the worn material of your pockets, your shoes land heavily on the uneven cobblestone. A water droplet falls on your shoulder from one of the broken pipes overhead, and you grimace. This town gets shittier every year. That pit in your stomach is back, but sheer determination carries you onward.

Because you aren’t afraid.

In an instant, the sigh that had been building in your lungs is forced out as your cheek is shoved into the crumbling brick lining the alley.

Rough hands encircle your wrists, pinning them against your back.

The weight of someone much larger presses into you from behind.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doin’ walkin’ all by yourself?” His voice is almost impossibly low, carrying the teasing lilt of thunder before lightning. “Haven’t you heard there’s a serial killer running around?”

The rock in your stomach lodges in your throat as he laughs, hot puffs of air hitting your neck.

Trying to gauge your odds, you crane your head to get a view of him, roughly scraping your skin against the reddened clay. Just as your eyes manage to catch the dark cloth of his shirt, something presses to your forehead.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, doll,” he preempts. The gun in his hand trails lower, landing between your eyes, the cool metal making you shudder. “I would hate to have to hurt ya.”

Your mouth is dry as ideas course through your mind, running through scenarios to escape this fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in. “I-I have money! You can have it, if you let me go!”

He just chuckles again, and you swear you see a glimpse of a scar at the corner of his lips, adding it to a mental note of anything to help you identify him later. “Oh sweetheart, you can’t actually think I’m doing this for the money, do you?”

Your thoughts stall for a moment. “B-but…but why then…?”

Leaning towards you, his face is now only inches from your own. The scent of tobacco lingers on his breath. “Because I like to see the fear in someone’s eyes when they know they’re gonna die.”

You can’t stop the smirk spreading across your lips. You know it’s stupid - you shouldn’t taunt the fucking murderer holding a gun to your head - but you almost want to laugh.

“Seriously?” Your throat is scratchy as you stifle a chuckle. “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

This time, he doesn’t stop you when you turn to face him.

“What, are you making eye contact with every single person you kill? You have a fucking gun, dude - are you really sitting there, this close, waiting for them to die? Or is that just some line you say to make people afraid, to try and make them beg for mercy?”

That scar shifts as his mouth twitches. Just as he inhales to respond, you continue.

“Oh, I get it! I bet that’s what you get off on, right? The begging?”

His eyebrows quirk, adjusting his position so green eyes stare back at you, mischief dancing behind them. “What if it is? Are you gonna beg me not to kill you if I tell ya that’s what it takes?”

The silver of his gun catches in the flickering sun as your gaze falls upon it. You look to it, then to him, then back to it.

Now, you know what it really takes to get you out of this. Because at the end of the day, he’s just some guy who got a weapon and a bit too much confidence. Sure, maybe he killed those people, but it’s only because they were too stupid to figure it out.

Men like him don’t want some pathetic little bug to crush under their shoe. If he did, he would’ve shot you already.

He wants someone to tell him ‘no,’ to shove around his ego a little. Someone to play with him.

Oh, and you’ll play.

Because you, unlike all those other scared little babies, aren’t a coward.

“I don’t have to fucking beg.”

Green eyes shine like poison as they watch your movements - your neck tilting, lips parting, tongue poking between them. Licking a slow stripe up the barrel of his gun, the taste of metal and dirt coats your senses.

When you reach the top, he lets out a groan, one that morphs into a breathy laugh.

“Well, isn’t today just my lucky day.” His scar delves into the creases of his mouth as he smirks. “Wonder what good deed I did to be rewarded with such a pretty little slut.”

Fucking pathetic.

You want to laugh at him, the predictability - it’s almost overused at this point, you think. The scary serial killer who just wants to get his dick wet, you’re practically quaking in your boots.

But instead of pointing out how boring his whole cliche is, you allow your eyelashes to flutter closed, taking the chamber further past your lips.

It’s cool against the heat of your mouth, tracing the crevices of it with your tongue.

You wonder if this is actually what he used to kill all those people - it almost tastes too clean to be a true murder weapon. Like he ran it through the mud on his way here to try and make his little act seem all the more convincing. Clearly, it didn’t work.

From behind, you feel something poke into your ass. Something hard. Using his weight to push you further into the bricks, his hips grind against you, his growing cock dragging along the curves of your body.

You gasp reflexively at the sensation, eyes shooting open only to be met with his locked on your face, dark hair falling over his forehead.

“Some fuckin’ mouth on you, heh.” It’s like you can watch the gears turning in his mind. “Let’s see what else it can do.”

Sensation begins returning to your wrists when they’re released from his bruising grip. It takes nothing more than a heavy palm on your head for you to land on your knees, rubble shifting beneath your jeans.

All too predictable.

With your newly freed hands, you make quick work of undoing his belt, tugging his waistband down to reveal his cock. It’s thick, flushed and hot in the cold autumn air.

From this angle, you can see the way he sparkles against the sky. Excitement vibrates his nerves as he leans forward, resting a forearm along the brick above your head. The muzzle’s cold metal presses into your temple, but it barely even phases you at this point, melting into the warmth of your skin.

You lick your lips at the way he twitches, watching you drag your palms up his thighs. One hand slowly wraps around his base as you place his tip between your lips, and the man above you moans.

You almost, almost, let a giggle slip.

Isn’t he supposed to be the one threatening to kill you?

And now, you’ve literally got his balls in one hand, the pistol in his fist dropped to his side.

Fucking hell, is this really all it took?

Some serial killer.

You continue pumping his length as you lightly lick the precum pooling along his slit, letting the salty taste linger on your tastebuds. Whatever, you’ll do what you have to do to get out of this.

But it’s not a crime to have a little fun with him, right?

Your tongue swirls around his tip before you take him further, pushing past the ring of muscles lining your throat. He lets out a choked gasp of, “Fuck,” and the rasp in his voice almost makes your pussy clench. Almost.

Taking him deeper and deeper, you can tell he’s getting close from the way he’s starting to thrust his hips forward, little by little.

But now, it’s your turn to play with him.

Pulling your mouth away, you admire the way his cock bounces as he whines at the loss of your warmth.

This time, you don’t stifle your smirk.

The palm wrapped around his base continues stroking him slowly, almost too slowly.

“W-what the fuck do you think yer-”

“Beg.”

His parted lips nearly fold into a frown, eyebrows furrowed in some mix of confusion and frustration. But you didn’t stutter.

“C’mon now, mister ‘serial killer.’ If you wanna cum, you know what you’ve gotta do.”

Sliding up and down his base, you pump him in pace with his ragged breaths.

Between his ribs, his heart races. “Y’know I could fucking kill you.”

And your eyes glimmer, your pace slowing. A silent challenge.

But you won’t.

He tosses his head back, the muscles in his thick neck contracting as he swallows.

“F-fucking - fine. Jesus, fine, whatever.”

Shifting your weight, your thighs rub together in excitement. The silver of his gun flashes as he raises it to his head, scratching the back of his scalp with the muzzle in an attempt to diffuse the growing tension inside him.

“Make me finish already, doll.”

“Aww,” you coo, squeezing his heavy balls in your free hand. A shiver runs up his spine. “That’s not exactly asking, now is it?”

He hides his pleasure behind annoyance as he groans. “Just - fucking, make me cum already.” You bat your eyelashes at him, and he grumbles something under his breath. “Please.”

“See, was that so hard?” you hum, pleased. “Even serial killers can have some manners.”

Taking him back into your mouth, you trace the veins of his shaft with your tongue, just as you did with the barrel of his gun. Each ridge, following its path up and down.

Something metal clammors onto the ground behind you, but you pay it little mind. Two hands wrap around your head, holding you in place.

“Fuck, just like that,” he moans. “Fuckin’ take it.”

His balls twitch as he releases into you, hot liquid pouring down your throat.

As you swallow, the palms on your scalp release their tension. Looking up at him with wide eyes, you wipe the spit from the corners of your mouth.

He rubs his face with his forearm, a smirk plastered across his lips, that cute little scar decorating the corner. Beside you, something reflective catches your eye - his gun, laying abandoned on the ground.

Some fucking serial killer.

[fuxuannie]

I would like a Dandadan headcanons please! Can you please write reader who's Momo's toddler sibling who really likes Turbo Granny, cuz she looks like a doll in that lucky cat. Reader would chase her around and cuddle her, and as much as it annoyed the granny yokai, she does care for reader (..◜ᴗ◝..)

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 | dandadan x (platonic) gender neutral child reader

love mail — (人*´∀｀) dandandaaann ! hooray ! thank you so much for sending in a req ♡ i hope my writing isn't as rusty as i think it is.

when momo got herself involved with yokai, aliens, curses and aira.. she worried deeply for her little sibling, you. you were barely seven years old, turning eight in a few months. how were you possibly supposed to understand the complexities and the rather haunting paranormal activity she was constantly in when you were only a child?

well in the end, it didn't really matter, because the moment you caught eye of turbo grannys form as a maneki neko—you were ecstatic. momo supposedly didn't even have to use her powers to catch her when she tried escaping, cause you grabbed onto her and never seemed to let go. "kitty!" you exclaimed with such joy, excited to have a new plaything. while turbo granny scowled, screamed, and tried to push you off, obviously not really having much vigor as you were but a baby. she was a curse but she had a heart.

after a while of living with the ayase family, turbo granny had grown accustomed to your existence. she entertained your foolish needs to always play, even feeding you when that damn seiko lady was out doing interviews and exorcists and.. gods know where momo and okarun were. sometimes she even cuddled with you during your nap times after a rather 'dramatic' outburst of crying for around 30 minutes.

also, despite turbo grannys rather vulgar mouth, she was the one who told everyone to 'hush up' their cursing and suggestive language, especially when talking about okarun's 'family jewels' and whatnot. "you lot are already a lost cause, leave the kid outta it." is usually what she mutters while covering your ears and glaring at momo's odd friends and annoying grandma. (as turbo granny would describe them)

and because it's common in japan for kids to walk to school, turbo granny took it upon herself to be your little travel buddy! how sweet. in reality, she wanted to get away from seiko and all the annoying tasks she'd ask the little maneki neko to do, however your safety was also something she often thought about. despite living for so long, turbo granny still gets scared when you walk home alone at night. not because she is afraid of the dark, no, but she's afraid for you. a sweet, young, innocent soul walking the streets at night. if anyone looks odd, or gets a little too close, granny starts screaming bloody murder in your bag to call for the attention of others who are around and check up on you, thankfully scaring off any grunt trying anything.

turbo granny is still a compassionate soul at heart, and you've rekindled her flame to remind her of her cause and curse. despite seeking revenge for girls who were killed brutally and unjustly, she found more peace in protecting and caring for living souls, and especially you. <3

[wheeboo]

it started with a dare | yoon jeonghan

SYNOPSIS. in which you get dared to stand under the mistletoe. PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x gn!reader (ft. seungcheol as reader's older brother, implied other members are there too) GENRE. fluff, brother's best friend to lovers WARNINGS. mild swearing, booseoksoon are menaces, light kissing WORD COUNT. 1.5k

notes: for the "a very seventeen christmas" secret santa event by @camandemstudios! ho ho ho! this is your secret santa wheeboo speaking, and this fic is to be delivered to @soo0hee <3 i hope you enjoy hehe and have a wonderful christmas of your own!!!

"I dare Y/N to pick the most attractive person in the room and stand with them under the mistletoe."

Silence.

Utter silence at that.

Then a choked laugh rings out from someone𑁋probably Seokmin𑁋and you can feel fire burst out of your ears and swallow you whole. Your body sinks into the couch as the moments pass, feeling as if a million different pairs of eyes were all staring at you, waiting for you to do something.

"Are you serious right now?" You somehow muster up a chance to shoot a daggered glare right at Soonyoung, who was staring at you back so innocently.

You should have expected this, should have known better than to agree to join your friends' ridiculous game of truth or dare. But now, here you were. And as if the whole situation wasn't embarrassing enough, your eyes instinctively drift to Jeonghan across the room.

He was doing everything but being interested in the game, sitting on the couch right next to Seungcheol𑁋your older brother𑁋with his feet up on the coffee table and his arms crossed, rolling his eyes jokingly at whatever Seungcheol was saying.

Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who caught your eyes years ago when your brother brought him home for the first time. Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who used to ruffle your hair in the hallways back in high school and tease you about bombing your math exams, not realising how those little interactions meant to you. Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who never seemed to notice how much you'd grown since then, how much more you wanted him now.

Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who had always been lurking in the corners of your heart, but never fully in your reach. And you've accepted that fate a long time ago.

A lump forms in your throat. You already know this is going to be a disaster, especially with your friends staring at you like hawks, but it's not like you can choose someone else.

No, your eyes just had to gravitate straight to Jeonghan. Your brother's best friend.

Taking a deep breath, you find your feet begin to move on their own, dragging you across the room to where Seungcheol and Jeonghan were sitting.

You notice how calm Jeonghan is, how effortlessly relaxed he looks simply minding his own business, and it only seems to make everything worse, because you're about to do something that might just haunt you for the rest of your life.

When you approach closer, you hear the whispers of your friends behind your back. Jeonghan glances up from his spot on the couch, his brow raising upon your presence.

"Um..." You croak out nervously. "Hi."

It's just a game, You remind yourself. Just a game.

Jeonghan looks at you quizzically for a moment, and then his lips curl into a faint smile. But you don't detect any amusement in his features, any hint he might tease you senseless𑁋just a warm, easygoing expression that almost makes you forget why you're standing here.

"What's up?" he simply asks, and it's enough for you to beg the world to crush you.

"I, uh..." You seriously want to slap yourself in the face right now. "I pick you."

His eyes widen slightly, and your stomach ties itself into a knot.

"Me?" he questions.

"Uh, yeah." You nod quickly, dipping your head down guiltily. "We're supposed to... stand under the, um... mistletoe?"

Jeonghan doesn't answer right away, just glancing between Seungcheol's suspicious eyes towards the two of you and the mistletoe that stands proudly above the doorway to the living room.

Then he just fucking smirks.

"Well then," He takes his feet off the coffee table and stands up. "Lead the way."

Seungcheol opens his mouth to say something, but you're already walking away before he could get a word out. Each step feels heavier than the last as you trudge towards the stupid mistletoe, with Jeonghan casually following behind you.

When you reach the spot beneath the mistletoe, you stand there awkwardly, unsure of where to go from there. Jeonghan stands right in front of you, way closer than you anticipated, and you have to fight the urge to meet his eyes.

"So..." You turn back towards your friends. "Game over, right?"

"Of course not!" Seungkwan chimes in, shaking his head. "You still have to kiss, duh."

You're this close to kicking every single one of your friends in the shin.

"I𑁋That was not part of the dare!" You protest, face reddening. "You can't just𑁋"

"No takesie backsies!" Seokmin exclaims, and you give him your friendliest death glare.

You want to die. Or at least crawl into a hole and never come out. That would be nice right now.

"Y/N," he calls out to you, so quietly only you can hear. "It's okay. It's just a stupid dare, right?"

All the words that ache to tumble out of you immediately disperse when you meet his soft eyes. The way he's gazing at you has your legs feeling like jelly, your heart running marathons, your nervous façade crumbling just slightly. You almost forget about how your entire situation is put on display for everyone to watch.

"I won't bite, you know," Jeonghan muses playfully, yet when he catches the worried look on your face, his smirk fades away. "Y/N? Look at me."

You hesitate for a moment, before torturously lifting your head to look up at him. He's so pretty, especially up close, so close you can't help but flicker down to his lips for a second𑁋

"We can just get this over with, yeah?" His eyes hold yours even as he inches closer. "It'll be quick."

It's just a kiss, You tell yourself. Just a kiss.

"Okay," You murmur, feeling your feet root into the floor. "Okay."

Then when he gives you that smile again, you suddenly can't move. Jeonghan places one hand on your shoulder, another one coming up to hover closer to your cheek, though his warmth still seeps within even when he isn't fully touching you.

"Don't worry." He leans in more, his breath ghosting against your skin, and your eyelids flutter to a close. "It's just me."

Your heart pounds so loudly you're sure he can hear it. You can't see his face, but you know he's just a breath away from your mouth.

However, you also don't see the way he pauses right before your quivering lips, how his gaze roams over your face like he's studying you. You hear a chuckle.

"Cute."

Then before you can fully process, the softest touch of his lips land right at the corner of your mouth. It's gentle, light, lingering a few beats longer than necessary, and it's somehow more intimate than a kiss on the lips.

And then like a snap, it's over. Jeonghan pulls away from you slowly, the warmth from his touch spreading through your body like a wildfire. The room erupts into an obnoxious round of applause. You only stand there like a lost child, because the world and your damn brother now all know that you're hopelessly in love with Yoon Jeonghan.

And the worst part? It wasn't just a kiss in front of everyone𑁋he made it feel real.

"I..." You clear your throat, pursing your lips together. "I need a drink."

You're quick to dash towards the kitchen, away from your friends and Jeonghan.

Stepping into the kitchen, the cool air calms your flushed skin. You lean against the counter and let out a groan, burying your face in your hands, willing the heat to leave your face.

"Y/N?"

Shit.

"You okay?"

"No." You give a half-hearted laugh. "because now everyone and my brother knows I have a crush on you."

Jeonghan stands right next to you by the counter, tilting his head to get a better view of your face as he smirks amusedly. You roll your eyes, unable to grasp how much he seems to enjoy seeing you flustered.

"Seriously?" You frown. "You think this is funny? You𑁋"

"I think it's cute," Jeonghan interrupts confidently. "You're cute, and I'd rather kiss you properly than have it be from a stupid dare."

Your jaw drops to the floor, your brain short-circuiting, and you stare at him like he's just told you the most absurd thing in the world. And in a way, it is.

"Don't mess with me, Yoon Jeonghan."

"I'm not," Jeonghan responds affirmatively. "but it's fun watching you squirm."

You groan helplessly. "I hate you."

"No, you don't." He grins, the smugness oozing off him, and it's so infectious that you also smile, because he's right𑁋you don't. "Your brother can kill me for all I care, but..."

Jeonghan steps up to you until there's barely any space left between you two, reaching out to push back a strand of hair behind your ear. This time, when his lips meet yours, it's not a dare; not rushed or pressured, nor a product of your ridiculous friends’ antics. Though brief, it's deliberate, soft, like he's been waiting for this moment as long as you have.

When he pulls back, he shoots you a wink. "...I'll make this worth it for you."

And just like that, Yoon Jeonghan has you completely, hopelessly, irrevocably smitten. You can't decide if you want to slap him or kiss him again.

Before you could remotely question what the hell you just got yourself into, Seungcheol's unmistakable voice booms from the living room.

"Y/N! Jeonghan! Get your asses out here right now!"

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[steveslevis]

i love you, it’s ruining my life

azriel x cassian's sister!reader - part 2 of 3

summary: Rhysand sends you on the mission to Windhaven alone, and things do not go as planned.

warnings: mentions of violence/blood, poison, mentions of previous assault and past trauma, Azriel being oblivious and upset again

word count: 5.5k

Windhaven, the place you once called home.

Now the place you avoided at all costs, the place where you lived through your worst nightmares and recollected them every single night while trying to sleep in the hell hole of a cabin you were going to be staying in for the night. 

You tried your hardest to forget about the night that would haunt you for the rest of eternity, tried to will it from your memory, tried to put up an obsidian wall around it to lock it in. 

But there was no forgetting what happened to you, not now, not ever. There was no trusting a male fully ever again, all thanks to the Illyrian customs.

Cillian was the first and last male you ever trusted. He gained your trust, made you fall in love with him, then ripped you to shreds, mentally and physically. The only male you ever trusted was the same one who lured you into that wretched cabin alone and held you down with a knife. 

I love you, he had whispered in your ear all those years ago while pinning you to the floor, your wings spread as the knife pressed against one of the central tendons, I just have to do this so everyone knows you’re mine. So you can be a normal Illyrian female. 

He was mere centimeters from clipping your wings when Rhysand heard your silent cries, busting into the cabin, making the wicked male scramble away in fear of what might happen to him. 

You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep at all during your stay in the camp, but it was probably better that way. That way you could stay on guard all night, that way you could watch your own back. You had to prove to Rhysand and the rest of the Inner Circle that you could be treated like a grown female, that you were willing to do anything for the Night court. 

There wasn’t much time when you arrived at the cabin, you had to set your bag inside and leave almost immediately, heading towards Lord Devlon’s hall for dinner. 

As much as Devlon hated your brother, he had nothing but respect for you. That might be partially due to the threats you’d set into his mind a few hundred years ago, or the fact that you’d beat him during training multiple times, but the reason didn’t matter. It was more beneficial for you to be the one to show your face in Windhaven this time around and you knew that, regardless of how much it made your stomach turn. It was important that someone from the Inner Circle came to Windhaven every once in a while under the guise of making sure the camp was still in order, so this was the perfect opportunity to gain important insight as well. 

So you sat at the long table for dinner, chatting with those around you in the most civil tone that you could. You couldn’t bear to eat in all honesty, just the thought of having to stay in the cursed cabin for even eight hours for sleep was enough to make you lose all appetite. So, you opted for pushing around some potatoes and meat on your plate all while chugging down four glasses of faerie wine throughout the two hours you were there.

You coincidentally sat to the right of Cormac during the meal, who had Balvard sitting on the left of him, making it almost too easy for you to infiltrate their minds and figure out their foolish plan. The two of them were under the impression that they would be able to take out Devlon with a faebane dagger and control the camps with ease. It made you scoff to yourself when you discovered that neither of them had a backup plan, as if that was going to work out so smoothly for them. 

The remainder of dinner after finding out the information you needed consisted of you bantering with some of the Illyrians you had grown up next to, ones who had turned into great warriors through training at Windhaven. The sun had been set for hours by the time you made your way back to the cabin, setting up some wards as you stepped over the threshold. 

Exhaustion hit you almost immediately upon changing into your sleep clothes, eyelids heavy as you relaxed onto your side in the large bed next to the fire you’d just lit. You’d assumed you would be wired at this point, you’d planned on not sleeping at all due to the fear instilled deep in your bones. 

You cuddled into the blankets, the familiar scent of your old home giving you an eerily comforted feeling passing through your gut. Solace filled you once you threw up a final shield around the small cabin, setting you at ease to know nobody could come in unless you let them in.

Before you knew it, you were fast asleep on the bed.

You awoke a few hours later, disturbed by the noise of the front door swinging open. Your body felt paralyzed in the moment, lethargy taking you over as you slowly turned your head towards the noise. It felt like everything was moving in slow motion as you watched the two males stalk through the door, unable to react in any way as your eyes trailed up to see Cormac and Balvard stepping over the threshold. The smirks on their faces told you everything you needed to know about what was about to happen. 

You wracked your brain for how this could’ve happened, how you were immobilized by these two lowly, evil men in front of you, how you fell into their trap so easily, and how the hell you were completely unable to use any power or energy in this moment. 

Faebane.

How could you be so foolish? You should’ve known better than to drink the wine so freely at a table of men you barely knew, especially after infiltrating Cormac and Balvard’s minds and discovering they wanted to use the same fucking poison on Devlon.

“Stupid female.” Balvard spat at you as Cormac inched closer to you, hand reaching out for your ankle. “You really thought you could come here, infiltrate our fucking minds to find out our plans, and just get away with it?”

You couldn’t speak, it was like someone was pressing down on your throat as you tried to breathe, there had been some gloriella in your wine, too, you were sure of it. Your body was pulled from the bed and flipped over in one swift tug, you were thrown onto the floor in an instant.

Images of Cillian flashed through your mind as your helpless form was pushed onto the floor, images of his wicked grin that matched the ones both of the males in front of you were wearing currently. 

A silent tear slid down your cheek as Balvard spoke, but you couldn’t hear his words. He was still rambling on about how stupid of a female you were, and how you deserved nothing but pain after what you were planning to do to them, but you tried your hardest to drown them out. 

There was nothing you could do at this point, as Balvard held your legs down, as Cormac pinned your wings with one large hand while the other pulled a sizable knife from its sheath. There was nothing you could do but close your eyes and hope that it would be over soon. 

You had never felt this helpless before, not even when Cillian had pinned you down. At least then you were able to fight back, at least then you had a shred of dignity and pride left, at least then you hadn’t been so foolish as to let someone fucking poison you. 

You cursed yourself internally as you squeezed your eyes shut, pain rippling through your body at the first slash of the knife against your wing. The first cut was against the base of your right wing, a long slash that would take months to heal, if it ever did. 

A prayer to the Gods repeated itself in your mind as you felt the blood trickle from your wing and onto your back. Your heart ached as the silent tears flowed, wandering to the furthest corners of your mind as you tried to think of anything aside from the pain that was being inflicted upon you. It took everything in you to realize that you had a sliver of power still running through your veins, just enough to call out to your daemati brother, Rhys.

As you shot a quick thought down the bridge of Rhysand’s mind, you were met with a welcoming talon of power. You could feel his concern as you pushed one-worded thoughts to him to get his attention.

Everything alright, sister? He questioned through your mind, urging you to let him see what you’d experienced in the last twelve hours with a kind caress of his power in your mind. 

You only had enough power to cry out silently to him, Send help, please. Your mind was closed to him as quickly as it had opened, everything went dark on your end as your energy ran out and you were blinded with even more pain, throwing you quickly into unconsciousness. 

The next thing you remembered was waking up to the sound of wailing and begging from behind you, the two men who had you pinned down minutes before were thrown against the wall as their High Lord took pleasure in tearing them to shreds in a slow and painful death. The cries came to a sudden halt moments later, Rhys growing tired of their begging as he decided to shatter their minds and put you out of your misery as quickly as possible. 

“R–Rhys–” you sob once their cries stopped, unable to do anything aside from lift a weak finger to point towards the man in the doorframe. 

The High Lord’s gaze turns from one of pure rage to one of a worried friend once his violet eyes flick toward where you lay in the middle of the cabin. He takes in the sight in front of him slowly, your pained expression and tear-stained cheeks There’s blood pooled around your midsection, drenching your sleep shirt as you pant in pain on the dusty wooden floor. One of your wings looks fractured in multiple spots, while the other one is mangled from the beginnings of a mutilation.

The sight made Rhysand shudder with anger, fists tight at his sides as he slipped into your mind in order to understand the extent of the situation you found yourself in. You let him in without resistance, unable to hold any kind of mental shield up anymore. 

They were going to clip your wings, take away the one thing you had to remind you of your mother, take away the one thing you held so dearly, take away your ability to fly. They were going to make you into the ideal complicit Illyrian female before wiping your memory of the entire night, which he assumed from the extremely prohibited memory tonic rolling on the floor next to you. 

Rhys was glad he’d shattered the two traitors inside and out once your memories were collected, realizing how ruthless they had been with you moments before he stormed in. 

“D–Don’t tell Cassian.” you plead, eyes focused on Rhys as he took another step into the cabin. 

Your pleas took Rhys back to that fateful night all those years ago, the night he found you in this same room, sobbing in the middle of the room after being defiled by another Illyrian male who he nearly ripped to ribbons in the same exact spot where Cormac and Balvard laid in the corner, the male who fled from Windhaven the next morning, likely from threats from Rhysand himself.  

Four hundred and fifty years ago was when he vowed to protect you like his own sister. You had begged him that night not to tell Cassian about what he’d seen, the vulnerable state the situation had left you in. The two of you had even made a bargain that night, that he would never be able to reveal the truth about what happened, so long as you remained loyal to him and his family, which he knew you would do regardless.

Four hundred and fifty years ago he promised to be the one to look out for you and make sure you were protected in situations you knew your brother’s unadulterated rage couldn’t handle.

And now, four hundred and fifty years after that fateful day, he’d failed you. 

Rhys gave you a sympathetic look, opening his mouth to speak in response to your request, but was interrupted by your brother pushing through the doorway past him. Cassian nearly tripped over his own two feet at the sight of you, stomach churning when he saw your mangled wings slumped on the wood over your limp body. 

“Don’t look, Cass.” you beg your brother as he stares at you with wide eyes, knowing the sight will spin him into a fit of rage. In your dazed state, you could see him beginning to seethe at the possibilities of what could’ve happened to you, his breaths quickening at the thought. 

Before Cassian can reply, Rhys slips into his mind. She needs her brother right now, not the Lord of Bloodshed ready to avenge her. Let’s get her back to the house before you make any rash decisions, we can come back and rip whoever else deserves it to shreds once she’s safe. 

Cassian chokes on a breath as Rhysand tries to reassure him that you’ll be alright. It takes everything in him to compose himself, but he does it for you, his twin, his fiery sister who he’d take an ash arrow to the heart for. 

“I can’t—can’t feel—“ you choke out, squirming and groaning in pain as Cassian picks you up from the floor. “My w—wings. I can’t feel them. Did they—they take them away?”

Your pained words strike Cassian like a dagger to the heart, tears welling up as he thinks about how much pain you had to be in. 

“No, I promise. They didn’t take them away. They’re–they’re still there, Y/N. It—It’ll be okay,” your brother says in a stern tone as he chokes back his own tears, eyes wide as he watches you struggle in his arms while walking through the cabin’s front door. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

It sounded almost like he was trying to convince himself that it would all be okay as he shot into the sky with you curled up in his arms. 

You were in and out of consciousness the entirety of the flight back to the House of Wind, babbling nonsense as Cassian tried to keep you stable in his arms. 

The entire Inner Circle was already at the house when Cassian landed, an air of worry carrying through the group as they saw the state of you, more specifically the state of your wings. 

Rhysand immediately called for Madja upon seeing the extent of your injuries, and ordered Cassian to take you to your room and to keep you awake until she arrived. 

Cassian was up the stairs in a flash, Feyre and Mor on his heels as he rushed to your room, with Azriel quietly following behind them. He laid you on your side, your bloodied wings spread across the bed as you curled up near the edge of the large bed. Your eyes landed on Feyre as he stepped away, a dazed smile spreading across your lips as you reached out a hand for her. 

The High Lady gives you a small smile in return, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, which were filled with worry. She grabs your hand, squeezing it gently as she begins to tell you something that you really can’t comprehend over the ringing in your ears.

After a while of her speaking to you and you babbling nonsense in return, you try to sit up abruptly. Both Cassian and Feyre are on you in an instant, pushing you gently back onto your side, quickly telling you that you need to lay down and stay there. 

“What is it?” Feyre asks quickly, gripping your hand as you easily give up and fall onto the bed, “Is something wrong, do you need something?”

“Az…” you whimper, fighting the urge to fall asleep right then and there, “W—Where’s Azriel?”

The shadowsinger had been outside the door keeping watch, but his shadows had been listening in on the conversation within as well. The shadows curled around his ear, whispering your name to him, telling him that you requested him, so he silently strode in when he heard. Your tired eyes lit up at the sight of him in the doorway, hand slipping from Feyre’s to weakly beckon him over to you. 

Something about seeing you in this state tugged on his heart, tugged on it so much it felt like it was going to rip from his chest. He couldn’t deny your request for him to come closer, not when you looked so desperate and in so much pain, not when his absence in Windhaven was part of the reason you were in this situation in the first place. 

He made a mental note to ask Rhys who did this to you as he made his way over to the chair Feyre left for him to sit in, wanting nothing more than to show them what Truth Teller could do. 

Azriel’s hand fell next to you on the bed and you immediately rested your own atop his, grinning widely as what felt like delusion set into your bones. Shadows twined around your fingers while the others skittered across your wings as if to soothe them.

“They may—may not be able to save my wings, Az.” you choked out, a bitter giggle coming out as you spoke.

“I’m sure Madja will be able to heal you right up, Y/N. You’ll be better in no time.” Azriel assured you, but he wasn’t sure that was entirely true. “She’ll be here any minute.”

“I—I don’t even care. I just—just need my mate.” you say abruptly while shaking your head, voice barely above a whisper now as you stare at the male, glassy eyes meeting his sharp yet confused gaze.

“Mate?” he replies with a furrowed brow, lips drawing into a frown at your words. He was wondering if you even knew what you were saying at this point, if you were just saying whatever came to your disoriented mind.

“Mate.” you say a little louder this time and the whole room is silent as you reach out for Azriel, your shaky and blood-crusted hand coming up to stroke his cheek. “My mate.”

Your eyes fluttered close with those words, a smile on your lips as you’re overtaken by sleep in the moment. Your hand falls from Azriel’s cheek and onto his lap, and that’s when he feels it. That’s when he feels the shadows of his mind clearing, bringing that band of golden thread to the forefront. A band of golden thread that was tying his soul to yours. 

Before Azriel could process the situation unfolding in front of him, Cassian was pulling him from the chair so Feyre could tend to you once more. The High Lady tried to wake you, but nothing worked. Thankfully, Rhysand and Madja rushed into the room mere minutes after you became unconscious, immediately going to work on getting you back to consciousness and ready to be healed.

Cassian tugged at Azriel’s shoulders as the whirlwind began, trying to drag him into the hallway. The shadowsinger resisted, standing behind Feyre as he watched you closely. You awoke immediately when Madja began to tend to your bloodied wings, the sensitive membrane torn to shreds. A cry escaped your lips as she gently worked on them, as Feyre tried her best to keep you in one spot while Madja worked her magic. 

Azriel watched with wide eyes, rage rippling through his body as he watched you writhe in pain. He wanted nothing more than to take away your pain, to make sure nobody ever hurt you again, to keep you safe with him forever. 

Your brother continued to try to move Azriel from the room, knowing it wouldn’t end well if he continued to watch you writhe in pain as Madja made quick work of healing you. He continued to resist, shoving Cassian multiple times before Rhysand breached his mind, stopping him in his tracks.

I’ll make sure she’s okay. He spoke to Azriel in his mind, staring him down as he squeezed your hand, beginning to take away your pain. She’s safe with me and I’ll take away whatever pain I can, but we need you to leave before you do anything stupid. The bond is too new and who knows what you’ll do if you continue to see her like this.  

Azriel straightened against Cassian’s grip, nodding at Rhys as he silently assured him that you would be okay. Eventually, he let your brother guide him into the hallway, noting the glamour Rhysand had added to the bedroom to drown out your cries as Cassian closed the door. 

It isn’t until he steps into the hallway that he’s finally able to fully comprehend what just happened. That’s when guilt and fear and pain wash over his body, stinging his chest all at once, right down the bond. 

“This–It’s my fault.” he says, falling back against the wall opposite to your bedroom in the hall, his legs unable to hold him up anymore. “I–I could’ve fucking stopped this, I should’ve been there, I should’ve known that this would happen–”

“Woah, Az.” Cassian interjects, reaching for Azriel’s shoulders once again. “You and I both know how stubborn she is. She would’ve refused to go if you were going, and you know it. She thought she had to prove herself to Rhys, just like she always does.” 

“I should’ve just–Fuck!” Azriel yelled, shoving his hands into his hair to tug on it roughly out of frustration, “I should’ve fucking sent my shadows, I could’ve seen their plan, I–”

“Azriel.” Cassian interrupted once again, grabbing the shadowsinger to get his attention. “Would you shut up for one second? She would’ve torn those shadows–and you–to shreds if you did that. She’s still under the impression that you fucking hate her, Az.”

Azriel let out a shuddering breath at the thought, a whirlwind of emotions taking over. His mind was racing as he thought of you in the next room, how his shadows couldn’t even infiltrate Rhysand’s glamour to see if you were alright. None of it made sense, you deserved more than him, you should be with someone who actually could keep you safe.

“How long have you known?” Azriel pressed, stern gaze on Cassian as he finally let go of his shoulders.

“Az–”

“How. Fucking. Long.” he insisted, blue siphons flaring with power at his wrists as he reached for your brother. 

Cassian sighs, shoulders sagging in defeat as he looks to the helpless man in front of him. “Two–Two years.” he’s quiet as he speaks, voice wavering in fear of what anger the fresh mating bond could bring out of his brother. 

“You’ve known for two fucking years?” Azriel seethes, gripping Cassian’s leathers tighter as he growls, “how fucking dare you–”

“I couldn’t tell you and you know it, Az.” Cassian says, releasing himself from Azriel’s grip. 

“You’re my brother–”

“And she’s my twin, my real fucking blood sister. I couldn’t betray her like that.” he interjected, shaking his head at the shadowsinger. “She would’ve torn me to shreds, then came for you next. You should know that nobody should interfere with a mating bond, you had to find out from her.”

Azriel took a deep and shaky breath at his words, knowing that Cassian was right in every sense of the word to not tell him for all this time. Eventually he nods at Cassian, deciding that words probably aren’t his strong suit at this moment, he didn’t want to say or do anything he’d regret later. 

“C’mon, we should go somewhere else to get your mind–”

“No.” Azriel snarled, shaking his head firmly as his shadows swirled at his shoulders, siphons flaring with that ultramarine power once again. “I need to stay here, to see that she’s safe.” 

There was something damn near animalistic in Azriel’s eyes as Cassian gazed at him. In that moment, he knew there would be no getting through to the shadowsinger, not when his mate was on the brink of death on the other side of the door. 

Cassian nodded slowly at him, watching carefully as Azriel finally let go of his shoulders. The shadowsinger’s own shoulders sagged and he leaned to rest on the wall behind him, while trying to calm himself. He needed to be in that room, needed to see you, needed to hold you, but he knew there was no use in trying. Not even his shadows could slip under the door to check on you, Rhysand had glamoured the whole room to high hell in order to keep him out and to keep your healing as uninterrupted as possible. 

He knew it would take hours, maybe even days before that door opened again, but he didn’t care. He’d stay right there waiting for that lock to click and that glamour to fall just so he could see you again. 

And so wait he did. 

He waited one hour, which turned into two, which turned into four, which turned into eight. 

The wait was so long that Cassian eventually pulled two chairs out of his bedroom so they could sit, and the House nearly forced them to eat some stew that was placed upon the empty chair Azriel refused to occupy. 

He only paced, mind racing with thoughts of you, of how he couldn’t feel you any time he tried to tug on the bond. He wasn’t sure how the mating bond worked, how much a glamour could mask it or how your unconsciousness would affect it. Every time he tugged on that golden strand in his chest, he felt nothing on the other end, just resistance that he could only assume was from the inability to fully reach you.

Each unsuccessful tug only drove him closer to insanity, closer to clawing down the door between the two of you to see if Rhysand was truly the reason he wasn’t able to reach you or not. 

Just as Azriel was on the verge of another outrage, after waiting for nearly ten godsdamned hours, your bedroom door’s lock clicked. Both Cassian and Azriel’s attention whirled to the door, only to see Feyre standing at the door frame. The door was barely cracked, just enough to see her face, hiding the commotion behind her, hiding the sight of you behind her. 

The moment the door opened, a wave of nausea flowed through Azriel’s stomach, the smell of you, the smell of your blood reaching his nose immediately. 

The High Lady held out a hand as Azriel took a step towards the door, ready to push her over to finally see his mate. 

“She’s waking up now,” Feyre interjects, giving the shadowsinger a stern look that tells him to behave, “she might be really confused right now, she’s been in and out of consciousness for a while so who knows what she really remembers. Be gentle with her, she may not remember what she said before you left.”

Azriel stands up straighter at the High Lady’s words, nodding sternly at her command as Cassian stands at his side finally. Both take a moment to compose themselves while she pulls the door open, revealing the room behind her at last. 

The room is in much less of a disarray than they’d expected, likely thanks to a simple snap of Rhysand’s fingers. The only blood to be seen in the room is on your wings, which is currently being wiped away by Madja as you stir slowly. 

It takes everything in Azriel not to run up to your side right then, to push Mor from the chair next to you, to take your head into his hands and kiss you and never let you go. But he holds back, waiting for you to finally wake from your sleep. 

Your eyes flutter open a few moments later, a wave of confusion washing over you as you do. The last thing you really remember is being picked up by Cassian, off the floor of that Gods forsaken cabin. You really don’t remember how or when you made it back to the House of Wind, or what actually happened to you. At this point, judging by the shooting pain in your back, you weren’t sure if you wanted to remember what happened to you. 

Your brother’s name was the first thing to fall from your lips, your weak hand reaching out for him with a watery smile. Tears filled your eyes as he took a step toward you.

“You’re a stubborn little shit, you know that?” Cassian said with a bittersweet smile, eyes flickering between your bruised face and your tattered wings. 

“Gotta keep you on your toes all the time,” you rasp out, a small laugh from you finally filling the tense air. 

Cassian sat next to you, talking to you lowly as he tried to keep things light, tried to keep your spirits up after he caught a glance of how mangled your wings were, how ruined they might be. 

You barely noticed the shadowsinger standing behind him until a shadow skittered across your stomach, trailing to your bandaged wings to survey the damage. It wasn’t until then that you stopped to look at him, to see how stoic he looked while staring at you. His face paled, his jaw clenched as he stood silently at the foot of the bed.

“Are you here to mock me, shadowsinger?” your voice interrupted his thoughts, finally making him look up to meet your eyes.

Azriel’s brow furrowed at your words and Cassian tensed at your side. He only shook his head, an apologetic look crossing his face as he opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by you. 

“If you’re here to tell me how I should’ve just sucked it up and gone with you, how I’m only a weak female and I can’t handle missions like this, I don’t want to hear it.”

Oh. Oh, no. 

Realization struck Azriel in an instant, you didn’t remember anything about what you’d said to him. He tried to tug on the bond, a sympathetic look in his eyes as his heart lurched for you, but felt nothing. 

The pain tonics, they mess with the bond. She cannot feel you, brother, Rhysand said to him wordlessly, watching quietly from the other side of the room, she does not know that you’re reaching out to her, she doesn’t know that you know.

Azriel felt like he was going to vomit, he couldn’t handle it anymore. He couldn’t go another minute without you knowing that he knew. But he knew better, he knew better than to throw this on you while healing from something so severe. So he looked at you once more with a calm and stoic expression, into your fiery eyes, knowing you were putting on a show of hatred just for him. 

“I wasn’t going to mock you, Y/N.” Azriel said matter-of-factly, shaking his head at the thought, “I was only going to tell you that I hope you feel better soon, and that I am sorry, for everything.”

Your stern gaze wavers for a moment, confusion crossing your once stern face at his last words. Before you could retort, he was rushing out the door, leaving one shadow behind to keep watch over you.

He thought you needed space, that you needed this time away from him to heal fully before he threw his heart at you, before he confessed how in love he’d been with you for so damn long. 

So he left. Left the House of Wind immediately, deciding that you were better off without him for now. 

But he missed the tear that slipped from your eye once he fled the room. He missed the way you were tugging against the bond as well, the golden strand too clouded by the tonics and poisons running through your veins to reach either side.

He missed the way you let out a small sob at his absence, fully recoiling into yourself as you thought that the only male you wanted couldn’t stand to be with you for more than two seconds. 

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[simp-ly-writes]

Hate the Love That Drives Ambition

─────── · · An Arcane FanFic

Pairing: Father!Silco x Mother!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You thought Silco had tried to kill you, running away to topside you find yourself to be pregnant but what happens when one day Silco appears back at your doorstep?

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, reader called 'mom/mother,' angst, fluff? maybe? just a little bit..., one mention of pregnancy, no happily ever after, very bad miscommunication, not beta read.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,208 | PART TWO

─ · · A/N: I'm sorry but i'm obsessed with writing Silco angst rn.

─────── · ·

18 years. It had been eighteen years since you had last seen Silco... since he wanted you dead. You thought that your decades long relationship was something concrete but the man obviously thought otherwise when he began tearing the Undercity apart to rebuild anew in his vision.

You always admired his drive, his charisma, his outstanding confidence. He always knew how to make something happen and just the right words to either piss you off and smile at your rage or pick you up by your pieces.

Silco always had some witty and snarky comment for you- coated in a tender compliment that made your cheeks heat up. You remember sitting with him in bed during the few quiet mornings you both shared and fondly looked back upon.

Those moments when his chest was to your back. An arm dangling in your lap as you played with the fingers of his hand and the light jewellery he worse. A cigar would be lit in his other, tapping it outside the window that your bed was positioned alongside.

You hated that part of you that missed those tender and quiet moments when you remember that barrel being pointed between your eyes and the various cuts upon your skin.

You remember that night as if reliving the moment entirely. The cold breeze drifting down the alleyway, catching and rattling your bones like your rapidly beating heart. Your eyes were full of tears, your head cloudy with a distant ache.

Silcos henchmen chased after you for what felt like miles before you were being cornered above a sewer grate, the steam rising above it blurring all the actions that held you overwhelmed with pain before gunshots ran through your ears and you finally felt numb.

Arms picked you up, you remember that distantly brilliant blue you did everything to escape yet when those strong arms wrapped around your torso- another supporting your head... you were disgusted to admit that you were thankful for their presence that day in the Undercity... and that would be the last you saw of it.

─────── · ·

You got a job, some cleaning job in the Academy. It was a nice gig, dusting the bookshelves and mopping the marble floors until they glimmered under the sun- the sun that now warmed your skin like Silco used to- no. I musn't think of him, you reminder yourself.

You loved seeing all these young individuals running around the campus with their brilliant inventions and minds. You hated how many times you thought to see that young Silco you had grown up within them all... but as it turned out, you wouldn't be far from seeing him on the daily.

You were pregnant and the only person you had been remotely romantic with was Silco... you couldn't find it in yourself to be with anyone else just yet as his voice still haunted your dreams, the thought of his presence making your heart equally yearn and hurt.

You had a son, Rhyker, and he looked exactly like his father yet held your eyes and smile. He helped you to heal that part of you that was missing from the Undercity and as you both aged, he made Piltover feel like a new home, a new future you were finally accepting.

Rhyker was equally as brilliant as well, loving the scrap items you collected and brought home that he tinkered with inside his room. And every time he was finished, he would run out to show you his latest invention.

At the start like any good parent you smiled at his drawings and listened to his ideas and acted amazed at his creations. But going forwards into his teenage years, Rhy was truly showing a knack for tinkering as his blueprints became more complex and his creations helping you around the home.

Your son adored you, watched you work yourself to the bone that he studied hard in school with a hope of making it into the Academy- of creating something that would change the world and make it a better one for you and him. Yet couldn't help but wonder about his father.

Rhy knew he was from the Undercity, a comment you let slip when half asleep one night while cooking dinner. Yet anytime he would ever bring a even a mention of him up, you would tense, gripping whatever was in your hand until your knuckles turned white before smiling calmly. It was at these times your son was ever scared of you... of what his father must have done to someone as kind as you to illicit such a reaction but he couldn't help but dig when he gained the opportunity to.

─────── · ·

Rhyker made it into the Academy and you couldn't have been prouder while reading the acceptance letter over and over again before crying into his shoulder.

That first week he was in the library looking up all articles and databases related to the Undercity- determined to discover who his father was but unknowing that someone was already looking back at him as well.

A thousand faces passed through his eyes as he numbered down with what little evidence you gave him to about fifty people. Tall, slender, brown hair, and holding just enough power to remove someone like they did to you...

He printed out these faces and basic documentation, pasting them into his journal alongside his blueprints. He failed to realize just how late at night it was inside the library as he was the only one left in the building... or he thought so.

The flicker of a lighter, the soft glow of an amber light out of the corner of his eye had his chair screeching against the tiles as he felt for his pair of scissors and gripped them tightly in his hand.

A cold breeze drifted through the large hall echoed the sigh, carrying it through the room. "Any faces appear remarkably similar?" a deep voice says, their face still unseen. Rhykers breath hitched in their throat, hand beginning to shake as their head swung side to side, trying to identify where this voice was coming from through the shadows of night.

"Who are you?" Rhyker asked, a small part of his brain nudging with an answer. "I think you already know that, you just don't want to admit it to yourself. And here I was thinking that my son would live up to his name... or am I mislead?" the voice asks. He can hear his footsteps moving around in the shadows, the outline of a leather boot shining in the moonlight.

"You are not my father. You couldn't be- I mean. Mom would never be with some... some-thing, some monster like you are in the first place!" Rhyker yells to only hear a ghostly chuckle before Silco steps into the moonlight, head tilted high, chin raised to cover his shifting expression once seeing your eyes looking back into his own.

Silco can't help but pick up every feature of his son that looks like you starring daggers through him. "You really do look a lot like her, how is your mother doing?" Silco asks calmly, taking another drag of his cigar.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Rhyker responds childishly before picking up his items from the desk. "I ask with honesty for the answer," Silco replies, head lowering as he observes the various drawings and gear-sets with intrigue.

"Well, if you could already know I'm here whats stoping you from seeing my mother?" Rhy poses back, failing to look up and catch the furrowed brow on Silco's features.

"I know that she would not want to see me... even if I do want to see her-"

"After everything you did!" Rhyker slams his books atop the table before pointing the blades at his fathers chest, "You say you still want to see her? To what? Try and kill her again- like fuck am I allowing you to do that, father or not!"

"I never tried to kill your mother, a mere... misunderstanding..." Silco tries to find his most comforting tone yet it appears cold and distant in the ears of Rhyker who's eyes scream murder.

"A 'mere-misunderstanding' that almost cost her, her life! I regret trying to find who you were, I understand that my mother was only trying to protect me from the monster that you are. Selling all of those drugs to the needy to what? Make yourself rich? Have another woman wet your-"

"ENOUGH!" Silco raises his tone, a chill running down Rhykers spine as his father walks up to him, blade pressing into his vest, pointing at his heart yet showing no discomfort but only a cold anger. "I loved. love your mother. I wouldn't have done all the things I've done without her. Things would have been different if I caught on minutes faster before I thought her gone for good..." Silco explains before taking a step back to take a drag from his cigar, looking out at a sleepy Piltover.

"So if you magically saved her, you would have been a better man? Like I believe that you would abandon your ambition for love," Rhyker retorts, arms now crossed as he watches his fathers back rise and fall with the deep breaths he calms himself with.

"You and I are not so different in that aspect. We drive our ambition from love... it only takes the right pair of lenses to see it. I tried to build a combined city but to many that don't understand the darkness- I look to be the devil and they wouldn't be far off..."

─────── · ·

You were worried sick back at the apartment. Not a single message or knock on the door from one of Rhykers friends to tell you he would not be home tonight. You paced rapidly around the kitchen, wondering to take to the streets yourself or to call a patrol out to find your son.

But the sudden rattling of keys and a soft swear as they fell to the floor had you rushing to open the door, arms flinging around to home him as you cried in thankfulness for his safe return. Yet the returning hug was slow to come by and the hands that gripped your waist tight felt distant but familiar.

Opening your eyes in shock to see your son looking at you back in the eyes. You tense in the mans arms that currently enveloped you- smelling whiskey, smoke, and the faintest scent of citrus aftershave. Their vest hiding a muscled back that your hand fall from- frozen.

You try and wiggle yourself free from their touch, tears finding your eyes once more as your struggle out with a cry but Silco only holds you. You can feel his hands shaking as he rests his head above your own. But with one last shove to his chest, you release yourself, stumbling backwards and back into your apartment.

You swiftly regain your footing, walking backwards, hands shaking as you do your best to yells threats while holding up a letter opener. "I now remember where you get the obsession with blades from, son," Silco comments with a chuckle that has your heart pounding in your chest.

"Back the fuck away from my son!" you yell, other hand ushering for Rhyker to stand behind you. You scream when he does not move, instead closing and locking the front door before walking over to you both.

"Well it would seem our son found me first," Silco explains, hands now tucked behind his back as he blinks slowly, taking in your appearance with the softest eyes he can muster, the yellow one glaring into the deepest parts of your soul.

You mouth opens and closes, failing to find the words before Silco has disarmed you and walked you over to the couch with a hand on your back, "grab your mother a glass of water, please," he asks Rhyker before kneeling in front of you.

You refuse to look at him, instead are focused just past his head, watching the wood in the fireplace burn behind him. The glass of water is presented to you yet you make no move to take it, Silco puts in on the side table before pulling your chin gently to have your eyes meet again.

"No," you softly say, shaking your head in his gentle grasp. "No?" Silco questions.

"No, you're not coming back into my life, into his life. We have made roots here. Rhyker has the opportunity of a lifetime and I. Will. NOT. have you ruin it!" you exclaim.

Silco sighs yet is internally content that you have yet to push away from his touch again. "Mom- I-" Rhyker begins to speak.

"No, Rhyker. I don't care whatever lies this man has placed into your head but they are just that- lies. Just like when he said that he loved me, would protect me, you disgust me, Silco," you spit out, watching as Silco stands in front of you, looking down, calculating something.

"Hate me all you want, darling. Just know that before hate there was love and that is something I have never departed from."

─────── · ·

─ · · PART TWO

[is-this-even-relatable]

Danny runs an Infinite Realms shop. Curiosities from every dimension, any culturally significant item lost to time, and some cheap china. He’s got it all~

____________________

NEW FIC IDEA JUST DROPPED

Ok so i’ve been steeped in the dpxdc for many a year now. I've seen a bit of everything. I want to combine some of those ideas with a bit of my own headcanon and see what takes shape.

____________________

Danny, half dead and half alive, one of the rarest species in existence, grown up yet still so young considering his immortality, powerful sovereign of an infinite dimension of beings from every possible world and universe, decides to settle somewhere and take it slow. After all, he's got eternity to do so.

So he finds a dimension he thought could only exist in comic books, and thought to himself, Now this, this is a nice place to settle. He loves how many heroes there are in this world, heck there are even aliens! Yet there are many heroes for a reason. With so many dark forces in the universe, it had to produce many bright beacons of hope to balance the encroaching evil. That is another reason why he chose this particular dimension, and this particular city. There was just so much negative energy, too much, in fact, that the heroes in this city, Gotham, could not keep up. He hoped that over the next century or however long he remained in this dimension, that his presence would provide a much-needed balm to the area, and that the sickly dark fingers of cosmic corruption would lessen. If not, well, he could always take a more direct approach. After all, he had the power of infinite universes backing him, one measly dimension’s worth of corruption against him would be like a minnow trying to catch a shark.

With a little bit of time travel shenanigans (thanks, Clockwork!), Danny soon has a perfectly legal identity as one Daniel James Fenton-Phantom, 30 years old (he figures he can pass as such, even though he stopped aging around 25), from a random town in bumfuck Illinois (sue him, it’s familiar). And after a bit of researching, Danny chooses a small street in the rougher side of the city. Not too big to be deemed as suspicious for buying practically the whole block, and out of the way enough to not attract too much attention. He spends a couple weeks getting used to the energy in this new dimension and setting up his haunt. He cleaned up what he was now referring to as “his street” in his head, and got rid of the debris, trash and general wear from the buildings. He hired some locals to renovate one, an old apartment that he was planning on renting out and staying in. He also chose a smaller building, somewhat tucked away in the corner, to use as his own personal store. The rest he leased out for cheap to small and struggling local businesses. He figured it’s the least he could do after already occupying so much space.

Several days later, and voila, his home was set.