#this universe is dark think what you will

[lyricwritesprose]

"It's absolutely offensive stereotyping," the tome says, in its whispery paper voice. "Do you know who wrote a full third of the incantations within me?"

"No . . ." You are still not sure about this.

"Morthana the Annoyed. Do you know why Morthana became known as The Annoyed?"

There, you're on firmer ground. Your Illusion class touched on this. "Didn't she give a student a rooster head for six months because he knocked on her door too early in the morning and she had a headache?"

"And that he didn't bring her concentrated cacao, which she had ordered from the university kitchens the night before." The tome makes it sound very significant.

"Oh, yeah, that too. I mean, all in all, she doesn't sound like a very nice person—"

"Put together the puzzle pieces! They're supposed to teach you logic in those classes, not just reciting other people's spells! Morthana wasn't suffering from a headache, Morthana was suffering from a migraine. They're different."

Light dawns. Metaphorically speaking. "Ohhh. So she started to specialize in darkness magic—"

"For medicinal purposes. Correct. Yes, it's arguable that she wasn't as nice as she could have been, but chronic pain does take its toll, you know, and they didn't have Evrastar's Invocation or any of the common pressure point cantrips in those days. She went about fixing it herself, as best she could, and she expected her work to be available to later generations of sufferers, and frankly I find it insulting on a personal level that I was filed in Restricted where fewer people were likely to check me out. Do you know what ableism is?"

"I mean, yes, but—"

"Ableism isn't just straightforward discrimination, it's also putting barriers between a person and the treatment they need. I'd call needing two librarian's signatures and a Fourth Mysteries level library card to be a barrier. Don't you think?"

It's right, really. "I'll talk to the librarian," you promise, tucking the grimoire under your arm. "How do you know all this stuff about healing, anyway?"

"I dated a Healing Tome of Sulavisi once. You pick up a few things."

You’ve just realized that a magical tome in the library had been misidentified. It is not, in fact, a tome of dark magic but a tome of darkness magic. And it’s rather hurt to have been so cruelly judged.

[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.

[specialgradefckr]

tw: explicit content. satoru/reader. dark dark DARK, bad end au, sorcerer breeding programs, consent is not a thing for sorcerers, all sorts of bad shit.

ultra dark dystopian au where the public knows what cursed spirits are and jujutsu society isn't controlled by the higher ups.

it's controlled by the government.

sorcerers are national assets. tools, property, born and raised to be weapons against cursed spirits.

they're taken from their mothers at birth. indoctrinated and trained in facilities until they're old enough to be sent out to kill curses. they start somewhere around 13. most of them don't reach adulthood.

with attrition rates so high, where are they getting all this fodder?

special grades like satoru gojo don't spend most of their time out in the field.

as soon as he was of age he's sent to a suitable mate. breeding stock like him should create more sorcerers.

for what? to be killed?

the questions come to his mind every now and then, but he knows they're useless. he doesn't think much about why things are the way they are.

he's a weapon. he's been a weapon his entire life. this is what he's good at. what he's meant for.

however he feels about his life, satoru gojo was born and bred for sorcery, in every universe. he loves it. what do the details matter?

things aren't so different for satoru in this au. he wakes up, kills curses, creates new sorcerers, gets maybe 3 hours of sleep and does it again.

he doesn't get to pick who or when he's bred with. he's a stud. his partners are broodmares. sorcerers who managed to survive the meat grinder of exorcism.

when satoru gojo meets you, he doesn't know you. doesn't even know your name.

he doesn't need that to get you pregnant. he's sent to a room, locked in there with you, crystal-clear instructions on what you're meant to do.

it isn't his first time doing this. it's not your first time either, he's sure.

it's not romantic. it's not even sexy. it's quiet, practical, and methodical -

but oh. oh, does it feel good.

he doesn't know if it's just your body, or if this is something you actively do but it feels like you're clenching around him, like your cunt is embracing him and refusing to let go.

you're touchy, too. touching his face, his hair, his body. satoru is used to roving eyes (he's instructed never to say no; after all, what if a woman who fucked him bore a sorcerer child?) and hands.

but your hands aren't greedy. they're tender. gentle caresses like the sigh you make when he buries himself to the hilt inside you.

he nearly jerks at the feeling of your lips on his neck. kisses littered up to the underside of his jaw, featherlight fleeting. ghostly, even.

when he's rutting into you, quick, efficient motions to get him closer to the edge, you meet his ice-blue gaze and press your lips to his -

it's the first time he's been kissed on the lips.

he remembers your eyes watering the first time he penetrated you. next time, he makes a point to whet his fingertips, rub over your clit, kiss your breasts, your neck, until you're dripping over him.

he doesn't know why. it's unnecessary effort. all he has to do is release inside you.

but he supposes if you're both stuck here for a while, it might as well be... nice.

and it is nice. this time he feels one of your hands grasp his, a strange feeling churning in his gut as you guide his hand to your clit.

with just a few careful swipes, timed to the rhythm of your hips bucking into him, the sonnet of your little gasps and moans, he watches you start to shiver and quake.

you clench around him and something inside him lights up, tugging, bright and hot and bursting along with his climax.

it's never been like this before, never been this good. you squeeze around him like you're milking him, panting with your mouth slack and opened wide, eyes glossy and dilated.

irrationally, he leans in to cover your mouth with his, lap at your tongue, steal away your desperate breaths and feel you moan and squirm beneath him.

when he moves to pull out, your arms dart around him, holding him close. like you don't want him to leave.

and even though it's never been like this, even though he's never tried this hard or liked it this much, satoru still thinks this is the strangest part.

laying there, bodies entwined, chests rising and falling as you fall asleep against one another.

it's warm. it's hot and sweaty and full of the stench of sex and bodily fluids, and it should be disgusting, but it's not.

maybe he's just too tired to care. when his six eyes finally close, the darkness that embraces him is warm, enticing, and absolute.

he can only just make out your heartbeat within it.

there's a few days of that, until your fertile period is over and you part, without words.

in fact he can't recall if he even spoke to you. you might not even know his name, though he's rather infamous, and with his hair and eyes he's hard to mistake.

satoru thinks about you sometimes. in the dead quiet of the night when his brain refuses to stop churning. in the midst of battle.

in the beds of the others he's meant to breed, cooling bodies laying against him as he brings himself to climax inside them and then pulls away.

it doesn't even feel that good anymore. not now that he'd had it with you.

sometimes he wishes he'd never had you. most times, he wants you there with him.

none of it matters. he knows that. he kills curses, he mates with fellow sorcerers. they're walking wombs, and he's a sperm donor. an impersonal exchange.

the worst is when he's summoned to fight a curse that seems just a little too low grade for him.

usually because the sorcerers originally dispatched failed.

in jujutsu sorcery, failure is death.

but high-level sorcerers like him aren't usually dispatched against lower level curses. it's almost invariably weaker sorcerers - younger ones.

it takes him an instant to exorcise it. seconds, really.

how many people died trying to do what was second nature to him?

how many of them were children?

it's his fault, in the end. for not being able to be everywhere at once. having to breed more to replace the sorcerers that wouldn't have been lost if he didn't have to spend so much time breeding.

the system churns through sorcerers like a meat grinder. anyone who comes out alive is squeezed for raw material, to make more of them.

an unending marathon. all that's waiting for them on the other side is death, death or being reduced to breeding stock.

he wonders what happens to female sorcerers who can't be bred anymore. are they just worked until they die?

do they ever get to see their children?

it's been years. if he'd gotten you pregnant then his children might be old enough to be sent out by now. if he has any children.

at the rate they've been having him fuck, he must have at least a few.

where are they? where are you? useless questions.

there's only been one fellow sorcerer he was able to keep track of throughout the years, and he...

well. he won't be seeing him again.

but he does see you again. years later.

do you remember him? he remembers you. how many others have you been bred with? was there a dark, long-haired sorcerer among them?

someone with sharp violet eyes and a warm smile and large hands? did you have any children by him?

is there anything left of his friend in this world?

the questions bubble in his chest, staining the back of his throat like bile.

if he asked, he's sure you would answer. you smile when you see him.

but instead he buries himself inside you, in your arms, your tight embrace. this is the only time he gets to feel good.

is this the only time you get to feel good, too? during this week of your fertile window, when they send you in to anonymous sorcerers to get fucked pregnant?

breeding stock, he remembers. what will be done with you when you can no longer bear children? what do you have to look forward to?

satoru wants to ask. did you have any children by him? did any of them survive?

but instead he buries himself in you to the hilt. until you keen and stretch underneath him.

even if he did ask, you wouldn't know.

you hold him too tightly for a brood mare, for an encounter that will only last as long as your fertile window.

do you yearn for these moments, too? do you miss him, do you want to see him again?

did you bear his children? did you want to show them to him when they were born? did you want him there?

did you - you're looking up at him hopefully, arms that hold him close, it's time to leave now and your eyes are wet and empty and your shoulders drop as you lay back on the bed limply -

geto was right.

[aethon-recs]

This Week (x2) in Tomarrymort (7 – 19 December 2024)

Last week, the Tomarrymort tag on AO3 has officially surpassed 15,000 fics — congratulations to all the authors on their contributions! And the completed fic this week has also been super impressive, including a 152k longfic drop. Onto the updates!

Completed Fic:

Burning the Animal Skin by beetaker (E, 152k, complete)

Harry can't believe he Imprinted on Voldemort, his body apparently so desperate for a guide in navigating these strange Alphan waters that it latched onto the first one it could find. Never mind that this Alpha wants to kill him.

Machine Men by @izharmilgram (E, 5k, complete)

Harry discovers Lord Voldemort is transgender, and he's really fucking hung up about it.

Extenuating Circumstances by Origin_Of_Symmetry (M, 87k, complete)

“You’re really quite a delight, Harry. I can’t believe I went weeks thinking you were useless and boring.” Somehow, unwittingly, Harry finds himself engaged to Tom Riddle. He’s not entirely sure how that happened.

In the Shape of Fear, Erised by @rowena-rain (E, 16k, complete)

Harry sneaks into Lupin’s office late at night, determined to banish his recurring nightmares of a certain devastatingly handsome future Dark Lord once and for all. But things quickly spiral into depravity, and before he knows it, Harry is getting thoroughly railed by a boggart in the form of Diary Tom Riddle... Or is it?

*

Tomarrymort One Shots and Completed Fic

Complete | Chapters 1 through 10 of Burning the Animal Skin by beetaker

Complete | Chapters 1 and 2 of Machine Men by @izharmilgram

Complete | Chapters 1 and 2 of Extenuating Circumstances by Origin_Of_Symmetry

Complete | Chapter 2 of In the Shape of Fear, Erised by @rowena-rain

One Shot | misconceiving by @satflesk22

One Shot | To be Watched by @cyandenial

One Shot | Ceaseless Appetence by Lytri 

One Shot | Bay Tine by @cindle-writes

One Shot | Head injuries and hot cocoa by @theonceandfuturequeenoftarts

One Shot | Customer Service by lilacscented

*

Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics

Chapter 23 of What In Me Is Dark, Illumine by @telelli-writes

Chapter 12 of Strings of Fate by @dizzydreamer

Chapter 17 of the stars, my destination by @milkandmoon-ao3 

Chapter 14 of Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse

Chapter 10 of Stygian by @crowcrowcrowthing

Chapter 1 of conditional decay by @duplicitywrites

Chapter 11 of Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic

Chapter 10 of you speak of the devil (like he's not your friend) by @amuria

Chapter 17 of Hole in the Wall by @elddrmot

Chapters 138 and 139 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis 

Chapter 5 of Goodbye Evergreen by @v33r00 

Chapters 3 through 5 of the night is cold in the kingdom by @girl-with-goats

Chapter 20 of with eyes like these (who sees anybody else) by @cealesti

Chapter 4 of Solitude by TimaeusKosmou

Chapter 9 of Fractured Souls by moonyunoo

Chapter 27 of Time Stumbler by @wintumnly

Chapter 2 of Part Two - To Grow a Heart by @iseliljathedreamer

Chapters 22 and 23 of Date Ideas for the Linguistically Inclined by Antique_Mango

Chapter 1 of Asynchronous by beanclip 

Chapters 9 and 10  of we made universes out of bitten lips and broken hands by @boyneptunee

Chapter 19 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear

Chapter 12 of Venom or Valor by @lightningant

Chapter 2 of baby, turn the bright lights on by @ictyn

Chapter 2 of The Stubborn Hunger by @thefangirlibrarian

Chapter 9 of Fetters of the Damned by @sc0rpiflow3r

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[taelophone]

Masterpiece ݁₊ ⊹ ݁ || Ex?Luigi Mangione x Ghoster!Reader TWs: Reader is an actual supervillain, fire/animal symbolism, smut w plot, penetration, blood mention, fingering, finger sucking, spanking, hate-fucking, toxic relationships, dark-ish elements, baby trapping if you squint, arguing, again reader is a supervillain, cocky Luigi, crying, overstim, brat-taming elements, etc. A/N: This is like. Seriously depraved work😭

In your defense, the universe always tends towards disorder.

Anyone who passed grade school level chemistry could recite this law to you like it was imprinted on the back of their hand. So it was only human nature.

It had been about 5 months since you last spoke to your nerd. That’s around one-hundred and fifty-two days without his coco brown curls against your chest while he told you about his little machinery and computer nonsense while you tuned his words out as you scrolled on your phone.

You let him follow you around like a lost puppy, trailing behind you at events as you held his hand with an iron-clad bite. You do love him, really. He’s adorable, he’s smart, he’s hot.

But you just couldn’t stay tied to anyone for too long.

So as your texts slowly shifted in the blue-to-grey ratio, Luigi found himself holed up more frequently in his room, click-click-clacking away on his computer as sadness and confusion engulfed him.

Did he do something wrong? Was he too clingy? What could he possibly have done to deter you so far away from him for so long?

Time and days slipped through the cracks of his hands like scalding water; burning him with scars only evident to those that got too close to his fingers. He didn’t want to elaborate, he just wanted his baby back.

And in typical nerd fashion, what did he do? Take it out on his craft.

Hunched over the silver laptop, deep black bags under his eyes while he scanned the typed binary over and over. It still wasn’t working. The dumb robot couldn’t pick up on certain commands and froze whenever he tried to raise an arm for it to copy.

He huffed in genuine frustration, trying his hardest not to shatter the computer with his own two hands. It didn’t help that he was in constant disarray, his usually organized and neat surroundings lacking their usual order.

He was always an empathetic and caring man, putting others' needs and wants before his. He felt for those around him in a way that others normally wouldn’t. So yeah, he cried a little bit. What he thought was a deep and stable connection to someone he found so tantalizingly perfect turned out to be trivial to you!

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as his vision fogged. So much stress for one person wasn’t anywhere near healthy, but something had to give. That’s what he told himself, anyway.

He’d feel better when he finished his code. He’d be able to breathe when he breathed life into something else that wasn't a relationship. All he wanted to do was prove to himself that he wasn’t a total failure, and could still do something right.

Tidal waves crashed against him, the bitter salt streaming down his face as he sucked in a deep, shaky breath in an almost pathetic fashion. This is why she wanted nothing to do with me, he thought. He was an unpredictable, emotional, unorganized mess. 

There’s no way in hell someone would want to be tied to this–

Ding!

What the hell?

His brows pinched together, the wet anguish slowly coming to a halt as he picked up his phone from the table.

“hey…U awake ?”

He stared at the text, dazed and confused as his meltdown began to subside, only for it to be replaced with a whirlwind of panic. Luigi had no idea what to say. He was upset that you dared to waltz back into his recents like nothing ever happened, but he was so. So. SO. SO SO SO SO SO down to have you back.

He paused, thinking it over in his head, outweighing the pros and cons of responding or even opening the message. He didn’t wanna cry again, but he also didn’t wanna fuck up the opportunity to hold you and bask in your sweet, candy-like scent again.

You burned his tongue and thoughts like war, your everlasting enchantments invading his head every time he dared to glance at the first initial of your name. With a hand squeezed over his mouth, his pointer finger gently nudging the bottom of his nose, he picked up the phone as his large thumbs began to type in his password.

He didn’t want to answer immediately, out of fear that his quick and compliant response would scare you away like it might have done last time. Instead, he paced around his room a couple of times. He hopped, skipped, and almost flipped as he worked up the balls to open the message.

And then, he typed.

He typed for what felt like years, centuries even. But only managed to type a couple of sentences before deleting a good two-thirds of the remainder.

“ Hey! Listen, I understand you’re probably going through something and reached out bc you’ve processed some things that led to you ghosting me, but for the sake of my health, I can’t keep you around anymore. I’ve been piecing together my mental stability for a while now, and I think I should keep working on myself. ”

Ouch.

“ Oh, ok sorry I’ll go . “

“ Actually, fuck it I'm healed. Come over ”

Read 12:57 AM.

My Dear💟 reacted with👍

Double ouch.

Luigi lacked the ability to stand up whenever necessary. You knew that. It was a very easy conclusion to come to when all he did was people-please. The way his eyes scanned certain faces for subconscious approval said it all.

You threw on your grey sweater, dark blue denim jeans, and a random pair of socks before sliding on your Uggs and slamming the front door behind you. You didn’t really expect Luigi to be so…compliant. You didn’t even say anything, he just…folded.

You figured he’d be upset, or put up at least a semblance of a fight, but no. He welcomed you back with almost puppy-like resolve.

Luigi sped around his room, quickly straightening up his home like his life depended on it, and in a way, it did. You were his entire life, and he didn’t want to scare you away again with his unorganized and messy bullshit. He did his best to cover up his deteriorating mind, dressing up his room in faux warmth that he knew you’d probably be able to spot as soon as you walked in.

Things were back in their respective places, the big light was off, little lamps and ambient lights were on, and his work could be pushed to the side for a minute longer.

With his room straightened, he stumbled into his bathroom to fix his curls. He got a good look in the mirror before realizing why beauty brands made concealer and letting out a frustrated groan. He wet his curls, gently bringing the coco spirals back to life with his hands before brushing his teeth like a madman.

He could feel lady doom lingering closer and closer the longer time had passed. Her footsteps of feminine fright would soon reach his front door, and he knew he’d have to pick up the pieces of the ruins later. But he was fine with that.

In fact, he wanted you to wreck the ruins again. Your presence, and absence, had been the biggest motivating force for him to do better, even if it meant he was at his worst. His tears would drip down onto his keyboard in the days to come, and he’d grow angrier with himself for allowing this to happen for a second time.

But he loved the disorder. He’s never pushed out more concepts and projects in his life. Your chaos completed part of his brain that lacked spontaneity. He could plug you into any part of his mind, and you’d quickly help him solve any formula or theorem. Sanity be damned, you were great for him in the worst way possible.

Pain was a fierce motivator, but he’d let himself be scorched and burned in your arms every day if it meant he could keep all the pieces of his mind working.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard the front door swing open, and for a second he swore he heard thunder crack and pop when you revealed yourself in the doorframe, your ringlet keychain spinning around on your pointer finger.

You waltzed in like you owned the place, gently pushing the door shut before making quick work of shuffling your shoes off by the door.

“Lui!” You called, setting your keys on the side table and making your way to Luigi’s room.

And there he was before you, in his tired, muscular, and disheveled glory. He looked like he had been crying. His eyes were slightly puffy, the tip of his nose was faintly red, and he clearly wasn’t focused on keeping up with his now stubbling beard.

“Hi, Lulu” you purred, standing up on your tiptoes to lace your arms around his neck, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder.

“Hey, love…” he sighed, immediately wrapping his arms around the small of your back and hoisting you up to carry you the rest of the way to his room. “How’ve you been?”

“Ugh, terrible” you huffed, rolling your eyes as you took in the familiar, warmly-lit room. “I’ve been so tired, and my nail lady canceled on me.”

Luigi chuckled, more-or-so at the irony of your problems compared to his. You seemed completely unaffected by ghosting him. Ouch, number three.

“But I missed you…” you mused, running your fingertip along the arch of his nose teasingly.

“Did you?” He asked, raising a very unamused eyebrow as he gently grabbed your wrist, plopping himself down on the edge of his bed with you in his lap.

“Mhm…Sooo much. Sorry I flaked on you, I was going through something” You smiled, mashing your lips against his to prevent him from asking any more questions. You chuckled onto his lips gripping the back of his neck in a way you know you definitely shouldn’t be.

He winced, instinctively reaching for your hand before you smacked it away. A nonverbal way of saying “Leave it alone.”

He groaned in a mix of pain and slight frustration, opening his eyes a fraction to shoot you an unamused glare. “Whats…going on with you,” he asked between hot and fervent kisses.

“Not sure…” You panted, full-on yanking the back of his hair just to leave purple and blue marks all across his jugular. You were a little mean, which you acknowledged, so you let go of his fistful of hair before peppering gentle kisses to his face. “Sorry.”

Luigi sighed, holding you as close as possible while you pecked the tip of his nose. 

“What is it with you and my nose, baby? You do this every time you come see me…” He chuckled, a cocky grin forming on his face.

“You have no idea how gorgeous it is…like, none at all” You stated, smiling at him before leaning forward to push him on his back and just lay on top of him. “It’s perfect, really.”

“Weirdo…” He teased.

“Watch your mouth, Luigi” You quipped, giggling quietly at his sass before rolling off of him and getting comfortable between his sheets.

“You came all the way to my house…to sleep in my bed?” He asked, propping himself up as he stared at you with genuine confusion.

“What?” You asked, leaning up from his fluffy blankets to stare at him blankly. “You don’t want me sleeping here? Want me to go do something else?”

“No, no no you’re fine, you’re fine” he stated, shaking his head instantly as he pressed a firm hand to your chest to keep you from getting up. “Nap, sleep, die, anything you do is fine. Wait don’t die…”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes in amusement as you pulled him closer to you by his wrist. 

“You’re being so shy, come here…” You mused, positioning him next to you as you wrapped your arms around his neck again. “Tell me about your day. What’d you do today, handsome?”

He practically swooned as soon as you asked him about his day. He giggled quietly, fanboying like some sort of geek interacting with his fictional crush for the first time.

“My day was…it was fine,” He lied, ignoring the fact that he had been crying just 30 minutes earlier. “I fixed some of my code today, and… that’s it.”

You nodded, gently carding your hand through his hair while he rested the side of his head against your chest.

You hummed, nodding at his short little daily summary. He wasn’t really the type to do absolutely nothing all day, so hearing him essentially say he did nothing all day was kind of a shock.

“What? That’s it?” You teased, giving him a look of feigned shock. “I would have at least expected you to go on a jog or something…” 

“Well I did go on jogs, but my motivation significantly decreased since you ghosted me” He spat, shooting you a sassy and serious glare.

“I said I was sorry, Lu. I fell on dark times and shit, my bad!” You huffed, rolling your eyes at his sudden spite. Brat.

“Dark times but you’re going on bar-crawls and getting your nails done every two weeks…you could have at least blocked me” He huffed.

Luigi turned his face to look up at you, and for the first time in over 5 months, you came face-to-face with his vulnerability. He was hurt, and he did have some right to be, but you did what you told yourself was helping you feel better. So what if that involved having fun? You’re a grown woman.

“Oh, because turning to bars and fucking up my sleep schedule and academics is sooooo fun. Thanks, Luigi” You drawled, watching as his dark and heavy brows cinched together with repulsion.

“I don’t wanna hear that. You know damn well that’s not what was happening–”

“You weren’t there!” You shouted, immediately taking your hands off of him and throwing them up in defense.

“And who’s fault is that?” He exclaimed, giving you the most irritated and know-it-all glare ever. “I reached out every day for two months, only to get one-word responses, brushed off, any bullshit you could find in the hat! YOU are the reason I wasn’t there!”

You were nothing short of over it. You groaned, throwing your head back in bitter anger as his unfortunately correct point hit you. There wasn’t shit you could say about that.

“I wasn’t doing good, Luigi!” You growled, slowly standing up from his bed. “I just kept making stupid decisions, and I felt like you weren’t going to love me anymore!”

“When have I EVER made you feel like I was going to stop loving you!?” He stated, his arms outstretched in a half-shrug. He was growing more and more impatient with your excuses. All he really wanted to hear from you was that you were sorry.

You let out a long, drawn-out groan as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You stared at him, his arms crossed and his face slightly scrunched as he stared back at you.

“I’m not gonna keep doing this with you,” You huffed, shaking your head while your pointer and middle finger rubbed your temples.

“Oh, so you don't wanna talk now that you don't have a point. Of course. Totally” He nodded, irritants clear on his face as he rolled his eyes.

“I just fucking hate feeling like I’m being antagonized, Luigi!” You huffed, throwing your hands in the air in defense. “You’re antagonizing me when I said I was going through a rough patch, do you know how evil that is!?”

He went completely silent. He just stared down at you with a mix of disbelief and frustrated disdain. He bent down a bit, placing his hands on his knees as he got as close as he wanted to.

The anger in his eyes rivaled that of the goddess Lyssa, the flames of onyx searing permanent wounds into your own. It was hot. Literally.

You straightened your posture a bit for the first time in a while, daring him to say something so you could meet him with a remark just as scorching.

The floor below you was beginning to cover with soot and ash, the embers of venomous attraction breaking off and cracking on the floor.

You couldn’t help but smirk at his rabid anger; it was involuntary. Your dulled and dainty fangs flashed in front of him, a crooked and twisted smile overtaking your face as you fought the urge to laugh.

The smoke fizzled off of him, filling the poorly ventilated room rapidly as he scowled down at you.

“You’re terrible. You like arguing, and that’s scary—“ he began, each syllable aiming to draw a new coat of ruby-red lacerations across your heart. But it all stopped when he felt a pair of lips mash against his own.

He sighed internally, wasting no time in wrapping his arms around your waist as the gears of the cycle fell back into place. There wasn’t any escaping at this point. He was used to the crying, the sleepless nights, and all of the fresh coats of pain you could pull from him.

You giggled drunkenly, high on the poison that emitted from the pair of you. You slipped your tongue past his lips, invading as much personal space as you could in such a short amount of time.

You went to speak, pulling away from him momentarily in hopes of landing another jab at him, only to yelp at a sharp sting on the back of your behind.

“Shut up,” he commanded, sparing you not so much as a second glance as he brought his hand up to the back of your neck. “You talk too much.”

His sharp and pointed canines pulled at the bottom of your lip, the fear of broken skin lingering in the back of your mind as the sizzling pain caused you to shudder.

Your lips reunited in a searing, iron-enriched kiss as you snaked your hands around his hair, tugging on it like it was your only chance at a semblance of vengeance. 

Luigi groaned, practically growling at you before he scooped you off the ground by the back of your thighs to throw you back down on his messy and crinkled sheets.

“I fuckin’ HATE you!” You spat, narrowing your eyes at him with a downright feral and harrowing smile.

He scoffed, smushing your cheeks together between his thumb and the remainder of his fingers until the skeleton of your teeth pushed against him. 

“Didn’t I say shut up? I swear I said stop talking…” He scolded, landing another sharp smack to the side of your thigh that had you flinching away from his free hand.

A quiet whine emitted from you as you made no attempts to wriggle away from him as he left hickey after hickey along the exposed expanse of your neck and shoulders.

He loomed over top of you, evidence of his growing lust straining against the fabric of his grey sweatpants. He took one look at you, tilting his head to the side a little as if he were trying to solve another one of his stupid computer problems.

Picking you apart with his eyes, he was. Your feral, lust-blown eyes, messy and slightly frizzy hair, the way your chest heaved up and down in heavy pants. Yeah, it’s over.

He hooked his hand under your sweater, glancing at you briefly for confirmation before pulling it over your head in a matter of seconds.

“Lied to my face for a whole 10 minutes…dark times my ass, you‘ve got some nerve” he rasped, his eyes raking over the absolute art of you in nothing but jean shorts and a pretty little bra.

“Stop calling me a fucking liar, bitch” you spat, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I’m calling you a fucking liar,” he stated, tugging down your shorts with little care of if it hurt you or not. The fabric swept down your thighs with a burning resistance, the little zipper on the front popping immediately.

His strong hands ripped the cotton fabric of your panties, frayed and torn fabric resting on the bed before another sharp slap landed on the side of your thigh again. There was no filter to block you from his frustration this time, a loud cry fleeing from your lips as you flinched away from the sensation.

“Cried too fuckin’ much for you to look me in my face and say your day was terrible cuz your nails were late…cry me a river” he huffed, pressing his thumb to your clit.

You cried in ecstasy and slight shock. Normally Luigi was so very gentle, carrying everything in his hands with practiced cherish. Tech was fragile, and with as many years he had spent with it, he had learned to move and grasp with the strength of a newborn deer.

But all you could sense when his fingers began to maneuver around your folds, spreading your essence around was heated malice.

Right now, he hated your guts. And what do you do to something you hate?

Destroy it, of course.

You moaned as quietly as you could as his fingers bullied their way into your glistening cunt. It’s hard to focus on being mad at someone when their pretty fingers are curling so deliciously against that spongy spot inside of you that reduces you to a moaning and panting mess.

“Yeah…can‘t really talk when I’m fucking you good, hm?” He patronized, literally looking down at you as his free hand came to grasp the sides of your throat.

You grasped his wrist, squeezing at the prominent veins as you stared up at him through half-lidded eyes. You smiled, your whine turning into involuntary giggles.

“Fuck…you..” you spat in between oxygen-induced delirium, your cheeks feeling warm as the sticky, sloppy noises filled the otherwise quiet room.

“You will soon,” he mumbled, taking his hand off your throat to press it over your mouth while he got to work on leaving more hickeys across your chest. Deep burgundy and purple were sure to liter your entire upper body in the morning.

He continued his brutal and rapid pace as his middle and ring finger slid in and out of you with no resistance. The sounds that he managed to coerce from you were sinful; pants of his name, whines and gasps of “please” and “keep going.”

“Actually I think I wanna hear you…” He hummed, removing his hand from your mouth as soon as he began to feel you clench down on his fingers.

You twisted and writhed under him, not wanting to give the satisfaction of pulling an orgasm from you so quickly. 

“Aww…it’s ok, you can give up,” he cooed, smiling down at you as your muscles tensed and flexed.

You froze, the rubber band that had been coiling and twisting snapping with the force of heavy thunder. It was a painfully conscious effort not to scream as Luigi’s skillful fingers caressed and coaxed your sensitive clit into crying over him.

And she wept, spilling the secrets you would never she mimicked the heavy tears Luigi had dropped nights before. Pulsing and squeezing as he withdrew his fingers, popping them in his own mouth to lick them clean.

“I love you,” he truthed, gazing down at you to take in your blissed-out and teary expression.

The baby hairs stuck to your forehead, the artificial twinkle in your eyes, and the little part in your mouth as you panted to catch your breath.

“I…I ha-hate you—!” You fibbed, watching the way he arched a brow and grabbed your ankle.

“Oh so we’re still lying,” he said, hoisting your ankle over his shoulder before pushing down his sweatpants. “Cute socks,” he added before pressing a feather-light kiss on the lateral side of your ankle.

“Lying isn’t good for the soul…We’re gonna fix that,” he said, freeing his heavy and lengthy dick from his prisoning boxers.

You chuckled, not being able to form a coherent thought as venom and euphoria swirled in your mind. He tapped his fat, grapefruit-pink tip on your pearly little clit, chuckling quietly at the way you jolted from the sensation.

“Tell me about…your shitty 5 months…” he groaned, a whine highlighting the end of his words as he slowly pushed into you, spearing you open as his right hand came to rest next to your head.

Your hands came up to his back, clawing at the tanned skin as you moaned directly in his ear.

“You suck, Luigi…” you mewled, eyes rolling to the back of their sockets. That stupid joke he consistently cracked about his PhD was no joke, and he was giving you all the proof you needed.

“You’re a nightmare,” you began, frantic butterflies zooming through your stomach as he began to slowly piston in and out of you. “So fffucking clingy…! Wish I never fuckin’ met you.”

“You’re no better” he grunted, swiftly sliding the hand that was next to your head under your neck, forcing your head upwards so you could look him in the eyes. 

“Manipulative…conniving…perfect…hot fuckin’ mess” He babbled, a ghost of a smirk forming on his face as he felt you place your other ankle over his shoulder.

He moved his hand from the back of your neck to your knee, keeping it secure in place as he began to rapidly increase in pace. His hips rocked against yours, low grunts and pathetic whines falling from his mouth as he stared down at you with a mix of desire and exasperation.

“Keep…fuckin’ talking,” he panted, using his free hand to press against the bulge he consistently created in your womb. “Tell me how I suck.”

At this point, you were full-on moaning and crying. He invaded every single one of your senses like some sort of sex parasite, blocking the receptors in your brain that allowed you to think properly.

He was everywhere; In front of you, inside of you, all in your guts as your poor achy cunt fell victim to his bullying.

“Pretentious…Asshole! I said what I said,” you said in between gasps of breath that came increasingly rare as Luigi ravaged you whole.

He chuckled, bringing both of his hands to the back of your thighs and pushing them up against your shoulders just so he could get in your face. 

“You say that but you’re squeezing me like a fuckin’ hug…” he growled, knitting his brows together in ecstasy.

He was furious; fucking all of his anger into you, watching as your body jumped with the force of his thrusts. He could see why people lost their minds to women, running to grab a pencil and paper to capture the essence of someone doing something as mundane as changing their clothes.

Your hands clawing into his back, sharp enough to draw predatory reminders of red-hot passion every time he went to the gym. Your face scrunched up in euphoria as you fought to keep eye contact, the way he held you down like a ferocious beast as he threatened to put an end to your primitive barbarity.

He couldn’t capture this in code, absolutely not. He envied the artist who could recreate this scene from memory later on in the small frame of a sketchbook or the tall stature of a canvas. Art is beautiful in all its subjective beauty, and you were his perfect moving masterpiece.

He groaned and gigged into your neck as he leaned down, sucking on the sensitive flesh while he did his best to knock some sense, or maybe even a baby, into you. When he felt your velvety and warm walls begin to flutter and twitch around him, only then did he come back up to ask.

“You miss me?”

“Fuck yes, oh my god so much…” you babbled, your waterline brimming with tears as you struggled to even conceptualize the man above you. Your stomach jolted and fluttered with want, your ears rang with need, your hands scratched with fever, and your mind fogged with lust.

The coil deep within you snapped, prompting a string of swears to fly from your lips as you painted Luigi with your pearly-white release, flashes of what you could only believe to be heaven dancing behind your eyelids as your mind dished out one last command to regain a semblance of control.

Your ankles wrapped around Luigi’s waist, trapping him against you as his moans turned into high and breathy wines.

He painted your insides a new shade of angelic white, stiffing against you as he cried out your name in blissful ecstasy. 

He collapsed on top of you, huffing and puffing as he registered the little move you pulled.

“And you said you didn’t like me…”

[wqnwoos]

mistletoe / lee chan x f!reader / for @bitchlessdino

On December 23rd, Chan decides he’s going to tell you the truth. The whole, entire truth, the one that nestles warm and aching in the cage of his ribs and sometimes forces its way into his throat, or sends swooping sensations down to the bottom of his stomach — that truth. Chan decides he’s going to tell you that truth, he’s going to tell you everything, for a number of reasons; for five reasons, specifically. 

reason one — first snow. Chan has never really been a superstitious person, but snow came early this year, and it came when he was with you. It’d just been another cold, dark November day, and Chan had felt everything but; he was warm and full and a little bit tipsy, maybe, but it was the weekend, and he was with you. That required at least a little liquid courage, to get through dinner with you and a couple other friends in some hole-in-the-wall, sat opposite you as you laughed under the dim yellow lighting. And then he was offering you a ride home with his driver, because it’s on my way, and he’d only grinned sheepishly when you’d frowned and said no it isn’t, but you’d accepted anyway. 

The snow starts falling as he walks you to the door of your building. You’re halfway through a laugh because of some dumb joke he’s made, and he’s feeling like the entire world is in the palm of his hand because of your laugh, and then you both realise snowflakes are falling at the same time. Chan’s not a superstitious person, but when he looks at you underneath the midnight sky and the floating snowflakes, he hopes there’s some sort of truth to it all.

reason two — his name. When you first met him, you asked him if he preferred Chan or Dino or something else and he’d never really had a preference until that exact moment. Something about the way you say his name has made his insides go molten since his very first time meeting you, a friend of a friend at a birthday party. He’s never fallen so fast and so hard as he did that day, seeing you carrying a candle-lit cake for your friend, smiling that smile of yours. Somehow, he didn’t make that clear enough to both himself and to you, and instead of making a move, asking you out, the two of you ended up friends – friends for close to two years now. Chan had thought (hoped) that his initial crush would fade; instead, it only became stronger with each passing day.

reason three — he almost has. Every time he sees you, it nearly slips; it waits at the tip of his tongue. He’s almost told you at least four times, barely managing to catch himself at the last second. Chan can’t keep a secret to save his life, and keeping this one has been the heaviest thing he’s had to carry for a long time. Of course, Seungkwan knows, because Seungkwan’s friends with you too, and he’s too perceptive for his own good. A couple of his other friends and members have suspicions, about some vague person he has a soft spot for. But nobody really knows, and Chan is tired of not telling people. He’s tired of not telling you.

reason four — he wants to. You’re the nicest person he knows. If you’re going to let him down, you’re going to let him down so gently Chan thinks he’ll barely even feel it. Rationally speaking, there’s not a universe where you make him feel bad about anything, let alone this. He doesn’t exactly enjoy being pitied, but something tells him that’s not you anyway. Really, this whole thing is equal parts hope and a desperate need for closure. An outright rejection could be better than the maybes that keep him awake at night.

reason five — which is what everything boils down to, really. It’s you.

And so Chan goes to Seungkwan’s annual house party on December 23rd with his mind fully made up: he’s going to tell you. He’s going to tell you that he’s had a ridiculously huge crush on you for two years, and he’s really tried to get over it, and he thinks you’re the most wonderful thing that ever happened to him. And somewhere in there, he’s gotta sneak in the Christmas gift he got you, despite you telling him every year not to.

It turns out, once he gets there, that telling you is much harder than expected. Seungkwan’s outdone himself this year, decorations strewn around the apartment he shares with Jeonghan, making everything look warm and festive and cosy, and then there’s you in the middle of it. When he arrives, a little late because of all the pep talks he had to give himself in front of the mirror, you’re carrying a candlelit cake. Just like the day he first met you.

His breath catches in his throat, and he thinks, just quickly, that he’ll never be able to get over you. And then he’s pushing the thought away, greeting his friends, settling in his usual place by your side. The same as every year, only this time his mind is on one thing, and one thing only.

He decides to wait until the end to do it; heartbreak isn’t particularly festive, and he’s sure Seungkwan wouldn’t appreciate the damper on his party. But the night seems to stretch forever, and the anxious pit in his stomach doesn’t help in the slightest. Neither does the fact that his eyes are constantly glued to you: you throwing your head back to laugh, you asking him in a soft undertone if he’s okay, you squeezing his hand when he promises he’s fine. 

You both end up leaving at the same time, and Chan takes his opportunity when he sees it. He’s been waiting too long to let it slip through his fingers, but when he’s face to face with you under the fairy lights in Seungkwan’s hallway, he can’t quite choke words out. He’s rehearsed this – multiple times – but the moment he looks at your expectant eyes, he goes blank.

“Chan?” You laugh a little teasingly at his abrupt silence. “Did you forget what you were going to say?”

“Not – not quite.” He knows what he wants to say. He doesn’t know how to say it. (I’m very nearly in love with you, he thinks hopelessly. The words don’t come out.)

Your eyes flick upward for a second, lingering above you both. “Look,” you say softly. He doesn’t shift his gaze from your face. “Mistletoe.”

And then you kiss him. 

this is for @bitchlessdino as part of cam and em’s a very seventeen christmas secret santa 2024!!!! surprise nana i hope u like it 💗💗 merry christmas to everyone who’s celebrating, and i hope everyone else is having a wonderful holiday/week/life.

thank you to @highvern for making the gift tag banners and letting me use ur actually the best. and thank you @haologram for making me post.

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[klarolinexluv]

Something has really stuck with me that some Anti Regulus Black person said and I want to share my thoughts on it.

Basically, they said that we, or people that like Regulus have been giving Regulus Lilys characteristics and traits and relationships instead of giving them to Lily and are using this to replace Lily.

From my pov, I can understand how that comes across. Moonwater, in canonical type universes, usually come together over their love for literature, something, that as far as I understand was how Lily and Remus used to become friends in fics.

When I think of this situation, I don’t see it as Lily being replaced, I see it as Remus having more friends then just the Marauders and Lily. I see it as Remus making friends.

In all the fics I’ve read, majority of them, Lily and Remus are always already friends! 9 times out of 10, if Remus has a POV and he is interacted with Lily or thinking about Lily, he refers to her has his best friend.

Idk who needs to hear this but Remus can have more friends than just Lily and the Marauders! In fact, EVERY. SINGLE. CHARACTER. Can have more friends then just the friend groups that they have been assigned to from the fandom.

I personally love the idea that Regulus and Remus get close because of their shared interest in books and knowledge. In fact, I love it so much when this happens. I also love when Remus is the one to introduce (formally) Lily and Regulus. Because they have shared interests! They all have shared interests and that’s what they bond over.

If we just forget about ships for a moment - Jily/Jegulus - Regulus and Lily would and could actually be really close friends. At their cores they are very similar and have similar morals and codes.

Like my girl Lily defeated Voldemort the first time. You cannot tell me that she did not have some deep interest and understanding of Dark Magic that is really not talked about enough. I mean, she was friends with Snape for a LONG time! Even against all her Gryffindor friends and dorm mates advice and opinions. She was friends with Snape for a long time and they definitely studied dark magic together. The only reason they stopped being friends was because Snape called her a slur and began siding with people that would have gladly seen Lily and people like Lily 6 feet under.

And then Regulus! He may not have made the best choices but when it mattered the most, he chose to do the right thing and go against Voldemort. He is the first to have done so! My guy was smart. He definitely knew so much magic that he has likely forgotten more than anyone would ever even know.

Regulus and Lily are both so smart and they would have bonded over their shared intelligence, their love for knowledge and books. Remus was probably terrified the day he realised he was the reason these two evil geniuses even started talking.

Maybe instead of saying that Regulus is being given Lily’s characteristics and traits, maybe think about how this would affect the two characters when put in the same room.

I personally think that they would argue for a long time and then Lily would probably say something that gives Regulus pause and then Lily would gently press on that and then Regulus would go have a long hard think and then come back and hesitantly ask Lily questions that Lily would happily answer and then they would be tentative friends!

Regulily have so much in common but they also have a lot of differences and I don’t think enough people see that because they are too focused on ships rather than the characters themselves and their motives and actions.

I’m not shy in admitting that I fuck with romantic regulily. They are my guilty pleasure ship and I am not shy about saying that.

Regulily, platonically, romantically, it doesn’t matter. They have the biggest grounds for friendship and growth.

Regulus and Lily can teach each other so much and I honestly think it’s the biggest missed opportunity when they are pinned against each other rather than working together.

I fear I’ve gone WAY off topic.

In the context of relationships, the jily vs jegulus idea. I feel like I need to hold people hands when I say this because the two ships are very different.

WARNING! OPINIONS!

To me, Jily is a rivals to lovers relationship. I don’t think they are grumpy/sunshine purely because I don’t see Lily as the grumpy trope. I very much think that Jily are academic rivals. Where James just naturally understands everything and gets good marks whether he studied or not and Lily has to study heavily before she understands a topic enough to pass, like Lily to me has to study throughly before everything sticks and she understands the topic so much more than is really required for her coarse work.

I also don’t think Jily was James falls in love at first sight and Lily hates him for years until she gives in and goes on a date with him. Sure it’s a bit cute but i definitely prefer James developing a crush and not telling anyone other than his friends. I very much fuck with James being uncharacteristically shy about his crushes on people. I fuck with James losing his ability to talk or function around the person he fancies and it comes off as arrogance and a bit of a joke when he is actually being genuine.

I love the idea that Lily falls for him slowly, like initially, she thinks she hates him, she loathes the fact that he doesn’t need to study and he can just goof off and do whatever and still get perfect grades, I think Lily gets jealous of James and thinks she despises him because she thinks he is trying to make fun of her when all he is trying to do is talk to her and get her attention.

I love the idea that Remus is constantly trying to talk James up to Lily, “he’s really not that bad once you get to know him.” And “He’s harmless, Lils.” And things like that but Lily has NONE of it!

I think Lily starts to fall for James when they are paired together for a project that is a big mark on their finals. I think Lily goes into this thinking that she is going to hate it when actuality, James is kind and thoughtful and helps her when she struggles. He doesn’t make fun of her, he sits down quietly and gives her tips and tricks that he discovered when he studies privately, (this would be when she finds out that maybe it doesn’t all come as naturally to James as she thought) and then they end up getting the best grade in their year on the assignment but they don’t stop hanging out, they don’t stop studying together. Lily slowly falls for James because of his mind and they form a friendship and then James would ask her out one day and Lily would find herself stunned because if he had asked her a few months ago, she would have harshly declined but in the moment, she finds herself blushing and agreeing without a hint of hesitation.

And that’s how I imagine Jily.

Now, Jegulus.

Jegulus is enemies to lovers, they are grumpy/sunshine. I very much think that they did hate eachother. They did not like eachother for many reasons and they would argue and fight in the halls.

I’m very much into jegulus but I don’t think I’ve seen a fic that has written them as actually enemies to lovers in a canonical setting.

Jegulus to me is very push and pull. One step forward, two steps backwards.

I honestly think that sure, when they met at 11 and 12 when Sirius had his little brother trailing after him and introduced them to each other, they both had the moment of instant connection that they both immediately denied and dismissed and buried under hatred.

James and Regulus see each other as competition. Regulus sees James as the one that stole his brother. James sees Regulus as the brother that doesn’t deserve Sirius.

Because Sirius told James all about his little brother all through first year and James was exited to meet him for a long time until they met and instantly realised that Regulus is a two faced snake and doesn’t deserve Sirius.

Because Sirius told Regulus all about his best friend in every letter, in every stolen moment during the holidays. Regulus was exited to meet James for a long time until they met and instantly realised that James isn’t the golden ray of sunshine that Sirius claims him to be but a brother stealing asshole.

I honestly think that Jegulus is THE enemies to lovers.

I don’t think Jegulus even had a civil conversation until after Sirius ran away. And even this conversation started as an argument. I think that they only reason the argument stopped and they started genuinely talking to eachother is because Regulus’ mask broke and James saw the hidden emotions underneath that Regulus was trying to hide.

I think that James held onto prejudice for a long time. He saw all Slytherins as evil and then didn’t think about that for years until he sees Regulus crack and then James has to rethink everything he has ever thought.

That’s how I think Jegulus starts and I don’t think they ever really talk about what they are or what they are doing for a very long time, to the point (if we are talking in a canonical sense) that they break and fall apart. To the point where they end up on different sides of a war.

ANYWAY! (this is really long and if you've read this far, just know that you are my favourite person in the entire world and I adore you to the ends of the universe).

Regulus and Lily, though they share many characteristics and traits and fundamentally different people. Even in the context of the people they are shipped with, even in the context of their friendships.

I love them both so much and I think saying that Lily is being replaced by Regulus is incredibly wrong and also perhaps a little misogynistic.

They are both incredible characters, who should not be defined by their relationships.

Like I said before. In the context of war, both Lily and Regulus were the first. Regulus may have failed to complete his mission and Lily may have succeeded in killing Voldemort… but at the end of the day both of them did not do anything in the long run. Voldemort was still able to return, the horcruxes still need to be destroyed and Harry still had to finish what the people before him started, Harry still had to fight a war he had no part in starting.

[waerwena]

so, i miss vander so much i decided to write something to let it out/// i usually dont write so sorry if there're any mistakes///

this is just a little sketch about if reader (you) meet vander once again in an alternative universe///

vanderxfem!reader song by Mako & Grey – What Have They Done to Us (I love it I love it I love it, it soo perfect for this, it so matches the characters, I cry every time I hear it)

"as you wake up in a cold sweat"

It was dark all around, too dark. The body wouldn’t obey, and the mind kept shutting down; it felt as if consciousness was floating somewhere in weightlessness, far, far away from you. Then there was a voice calling you by name. “Professor?” A sudden flash of bright colors rushed before your eyes, and the darkness around you began to gradually dissipate. You were lying on the ground, and the professor, with a worried expression, leaned over you; for a moment, it seemed like he was smiling. Your mind was still resisting, and the bright light began to make you feel nauseous.

My dear, you scared me a bit when you passed out; I was already thinking about running for help. And I did warn you that lifting such heavy things all at once is not advisable and...

You tried to sit up. "Professor... what... where are we?" The professor, too engrossed in his chatter, turned and looked at you intently. "Where are we...?" he echoed, "what... oh!" Suddenly, realization dawned on him. "My dear, you’re back! After we were consumed by Hexgate I was just waiting for you both to appear here." You grabbed your forehead in a sudden bout of pain. The professor's words once again dissolved in a whirlwind of colorful spots and dots. "Ekko still hasn’t woken up yet," you heard him say, "but I think he will be soon..."

You couldn't remember anything after you descended to the gates, only a bright flash and then darkness.

"You know," the professor continued, "I think we should go back. He will be worried."

"He? Ekko?" You rubbed your forehead with your palm; the pain began to subside, and your senses started to return to you.

"little girl what goes on in your head"

In the distance, you could hear muffled children's laughter, the clinking of bottles, and the hissing of air. You looked around; you were in an alley of The Undercity, but it felt like something had changed. Nearby, there were boxes scattered with shards of glass. Apparently, when you felt unwell, you had dropped them from your hands. The professor approached and placed a hand on your shoulder, as if he were gathering his thoughts to say something. His gaze reminded you of that day when you were told that Vander had died, and the professor had carefully chosen his words to comfort you. As if words could heal a broken heart.

"all this hatred in your heart, yet i mourn the most for all the things that i never said"

“We really need to go back,” he finally said after a long silence that was unusual for him. 

“Back where?” You were still struggling to perceive your surroundings, but it was undoubtedly one of the alleys in the Undercity. The professor approached a side door of the building you were near and, after a brief hesitation, opened it and gestured inside: “Back to the bar.” 

"Bar???” There was only one bar in the Zaun – “The Last Drop,” but after Vander’s death, it had become more like a tomb, filled not with ghosts but with memories. After a bit of effort, you got to your feet and leaned against the doorframe. You could hear laughter and music coming from inside. You were surprised; it seemed crowded in there, which felt so strange to you. You looked at the professor, but he just smirked conspiratorially and soon disappeared down the corridor. You sighed and followed him, trying not to trip in the dim light among the numerous boxes. Reaching the door to the main hall, you reached for the handle, but suddenly the door swung open, nearly hitting you in the face. 

“Oh, sorry, I thought no one was here. But, by the way, since I found you, I want to ask you something.” In the doorway stood a girl with blue hair; she reminded you of Vi when you last saw her. “Powder. Jinx?” 

“What?” The words slipped from your lips as you stared at each other. The blue-haired girl beamed at you with a wide smile: “You have to help me sew a dress to wear for the contest! Just imagine, when we take first place, I have to look awesome!” 

You were still processing her words as if they were in another language: “A-a dress…?” “Why is she here? Didn’t Silco take her? Isn’t she a criminal now?” Powder leaned against the door and crossed her arms over her chest: “What’s wrong with you? Did you hit your head? Remember, Vander brought a bunch of fabric from somewhere and told us to ‘have fun’ and…” 

You weren’t listening to her anymore; at the sound of his name, everything around you began to plunge back into darkness, your heart seemed to leap to your throat, cutting off your breath. “Vander. Did she say Vander?”

"dont make me go through this again"

You looked over Powder's shoulder. The spacious hall was filled with people; they were laughing, drinking, and some were swaying to the music. Streams of light poured through the glass ceiling, creating whimsical patterns of light among the crowd. Your heart was pounding so fast that it felt like it would break through your ribcage and then shatter into tiny pieces. “Sorry,” you whispered to Powder, gently pushing her aside. Your gaze darted around the hall, as if searching for something, and then you turned it toward the bar. There were quite a few people around it too, and at one point, the thought that he might be there seemed absurd. “He’s dead.” At those words, old pain surged like a wave, piercing through you, and your insides clenched from an invisible blow. “He’s gone.”

You pushed your way to the bar, nearly elbowing patrons in the stomachs. The last person you bumped into on your way to your goal was Benzo, who was peacefully sipping a drink. 

“Hey, what’s the rush?” he grunted, and you froze in confusion. “Benzo killed the monster Silco.” 

“I…” you managed to squeeze out, “sorry, I… I…” You no longer looked at him; your gaze was fixed on the man standing with his back to everyone, polishing a glass. “No, no, no… what?” Your thoughts tangled, the ground seemed to disappear beneath your feet. “This is some kind of joke. It can’t be him.”

"you’re not real and i can’t pretend"

“Hey, Vander, something’s going on with your girl” Benzo coughed and buried his face in his glass, taking a noisy gulp.  The man behind the bar turned around, giving you a warm smile.

"Are you okay, sweetheart? " His voice was deep, warm, and soothing, and you suddenly realized how much you had missed him. The pain again pierced sharply somewhere in your chest, and you felt tears streaming down your cheeks. The man's expression immediately turned worried. "Dear, what happened? " Still gasping from tears, you went around the bar and clung to the stunned man with both hands. Burying your face in his broad chest, you whispered: "Vander!" He hugged you in return; his large hands enveloped you completely. "Whoa, what’s going on? You heard his laughter rumble inside him, "We saw each other just five minutes ago, not that I’m complaining…" You lifted your head and looked into his eyes, still not believing that it was really him. He cupped your chin with his fingers, pulling you closer to his face and leaving a gentle kiss on your lips. "I can close up early today if you want." He ran his thumb across your cheek, his eyes watching you closely. You shook your head, still pressing against him with your whole body. "It's okay, I wouldn't mind watching you work. Just don't go." Vander looked at you confused. "I wasn't planning to." You let out a quiet sob. "I know, but..." You fell silent as the man brushed a strand of hair from your forehead. "You know I would never leave you. You, Powder, and the boys. Never." You smiled sadly; you didn't want to let him go right now. You don’t know where the Hexgate sent you but you were happy to see him again. Alive.

"I miss you so much, Vander, if only you knew."

[witchywithwhiskey]

first christmas with trucker ari levinson

pairing: dark trucker!ari levinson x female reader

summary: you ask ari if you can hang up some christmas decorations in his truck cab, and after his initial refusal, he starts to come around to the idea—and has some fun making you beg for it.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, slightly dry/painful sex, creampie, cock warming, bondage, choking, breathplay, dirty talk, degradation, some praise, daddy/dad kink, begging, pet names (sweetheart, baby, kiddo), some aftercare, a mean hot man

word count: 2.0k

a/n: based on this ask from @veltana: Are trucker Ari's and trucker Jake's readers gonna decorate the rigs for the holidays? since Ari's canonically jewish, i wanted to work that in while still showing what he's willing to do for his girl. (also apologies if there's any tense switching in this one, i'm not used to writing in present tense 😬)

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Trucker Ari Levinson isn’t the type of man to decorate for the holidays. By the time Thanksgiving rolls around, you’re well aware of this fact about your trucker, but you think it would be nice to put up some decorations in the rig, just to make it feel a little bit festive.

When you broach the subject, the two of you have just set off on a six-week stint of driving, which means you’ll be on the road through the new year. Already, the vast, snow-covered plains of the midwest have you feeling melancholy, so you’re really hoping Ari says yes to some Christmas cheer.

However, your trucker shuts you down with a curt, grunted, “I’m Jewish.”

You try not to show your disappointment, but you haven’t quite gotten used to the way you can never hide anything from your deceptively observant trucker. So while you think you do a good job of playing it off like you don’t care that Ari doesn’t seem willing to let you decorate, he knows he’s struck a chord—and it doesn’t sit well with him.

At the next rest stop, Ari’s grabbing snacks while you’re in the bathroom and he catches sight of a small display of Christmas decorations. They’re all cheap and plastic and poor quality, but before he can stop himself, he’s swiping one of the bright red Santa hats and adding it to his haul.

Ari shakes his head to himself, wondering what his mother would think of him if she could see him buying a Santa hat when he hasn’t worn a yarmulke or stepped foot in a synagogue in over a decade. But then he pushes the thoughts aside, reminding himself that his mother was gone, she’d left him, and she had no fucking right to judge what he was doing.

You’re settled in the rig by the time he gets back, an e-reader in your lap, and already engrossed in some smutty Christmas romance when Ari hauls himself into the driver’s seat. You don’t look up until a bag of Christmas candy lands in your lap, and you’re so taken aback, you glance at your trucker in surprise.

It’s then that you see the Santa hat pulled down over Ari’s slightly greasy brown hair. In his dirty red flannel, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Ari looked like the hottest, filthiest Santa you’ve ever seen, and your core quivers with eagerness as you suck in an excited breath.

Ari’s staring at your mouth, his eyes dipping lower to the way your tits are trembling as your breathing speeds up. You’re wearing nothing but one of his flannel shirts, the buttons undone an almost indecent amount, and nothing underneath. (You’d worn leggings into the rest stop bathroom, but taken them off as soon as you got back in the truck—Ari doesn’t like you wearing too many clothes and, truthfully, you don’t either.)

“Why don’t you come sit on Santa’s lap, kiddo,” Ari rumbles, his voice low and smooth—the charming tone of the man who’d coaxed you into his truck that first day. His hand pats his thigh enticingly as he spreads his legs, the fingers of his other hand deftly undoing the button and fly of his jeans. “Tell daddy what you want for Christmas this year.”

Your pussy is already wet with desire, so you toss your e-reader onto the bunk in the back and quickly navigate the space between your seats so you can throw a leg over Ari’s thighs and slide into his lap. Your ass lands on his legs, your pussy already slick enough that you whimper with the need to be filled.

“Beg for this cock, sweetheart,” Ari rumbles, stroking his thick length, his knuckles brushing against your damp slit and making your hips buck forward, seeking more friction. “Beg me to use your cunny like my own personal cock sleeve.”

“Please, use my pussy, daddy,” you beg breathlessly, fingers twining around the hair at the nape of Ari’s neck, careful not to knock the Santa hat off his head. “Use me to keep your cock warm, please—I want nothing more than to be your perfect little cock slave.”

“Good cock whore,” Ari purrs, one of his big hands grabbing your ass and urging you to lift up. Then he was notching the head of his dick at your tight little hole and helping you sink down on him.

A lewd moan slips from your lips as you take Ari’s cock. Your pussy isn’t quite wet enough to take his thick girth, but you don’t care. You’d take Ari dry if that’s what he wanted, and you both know it. 

There’s a delicious sting as your pussy protests the thick intrusion but you push past it, forcing your hips down until your ass meets Ari’s strong thighs. You sigh with contentment, swaying a little in Ari’s lap, your eyes half-lidded as you stare into your trucker’s ungodly handsome face. 

For some reason, the Santa hat is really doing it for you, making Ari even hotter than normal and you think, dazedly, you might have a Santa kink—so long as Santa is your dirty, filthy trucker.

“Feels s’good, daddy,” you slur, pleasure making your tongue feel thick and clumsy in your mouth. 

Ari chuckles and gives your hip an affectionate pat before he removes his hands from your body and starts up the truck, the engine growling to life. 

He’s pulled his rig back onto the snowy midwestern roads before he reminds you about why you’re on his lap in the first place.

“I wanna decorate the cab for Christmas,” you murmur, laying your head against Ari’s shoulder and enjoying the feeling of the truck rumbling beneath you, the warmth of the rig surrounding you.

Your eyes slide closed and you relax against Ari’s chest, letting the soothing vibrations and the perfect feeling of being filled by his cock lull you. Your whispered plea is spoken into the hollow of Ari’s throat, right above where the star of David he always wears is nestled beneath his t-shirt. 

“Please, dad.”

You feel your trucker’s cock twitch inside you, and a second later he lets out a tortured groan. It joins the soft moan you bury in the shoulder of his flannel shirt, your hips rocking lazily on Ari’s lap. Your juices are soaking his cock already, dripping down to his balls, and his cock is throbbing inside you, both of you equally turned on by what you’d called him. 

“Fine,” he grits out through clenched teeth, though you know he’s not angry, just trying to hold back from coming inside you so soon. He always reacts that way when you call him ‘dad’ instead of ‘daddy’. “You can have one string of lights, baby, but I’m going to test ‘em out before we hang ‘em up.”

Sucking in a sharp breath of surprise, you lean back and look up at Ari to make sure he’s serious. You find his jaw clenched tight and ticking, but when his eyes meet yours, there’s a sparkle of something like affection in them. Before you can be sure, though, he looks back to the dark road. 

“Thank you, Ari, thank you,” you cry, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing kisses to his scruffy cheeks and burying your face in his thick beard to nuzzle his jaw. Happily, you lick and kiss down his neck, sucking on the spot at the base of his throat that makes his cock throb inside you. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome,” he grumbles, one of his hands falling to the small of your back and urging you to settle. “Now be a good cock whore and sit still while you keep me warm, we’ve got another couple hours of driving before you can properly thank me.” 

“Yes, sir, daddy,” you purr sweetly in Ari’s ear as you settle down on his lap. You lay your head on his shoulder and press your mouth to his neck, licking and sucking on his skin idly while you do your best to stay still and let him drive in peace. 

When Ari finally pulls off for the night, you’re practically vibrating with a need to show him how happy he’s made you and as soon as he puts the rig in park, you’re riding his cock hard and fast. 

Your hands are planted on his bare chest—since you made him strip out of his flannel shirt and t-shirt—and you lift your ass up before slamming it down hard, the tip of his cock pushing against your cervix with every thrust and making your cunt squeeze the life from his hard length.

Once he’s let you take control for long enough, Ari’s hand wraps around the front of your throat and he pins you back against the steering wheel, not caring that the horn blares while he fucks up into you ruthlessly. 

All you can do is watch your trucker king, wearing a cheap rest stop Santa hat, fuck the hell out of you while your tits bounce and your mouth falls open in a moan.

Ari comes with a rough shout, yanking you down hard on his cock and making you grind your pussy on him, rubbing your clit against the coarse hair at the base. His hand squeezes your throat, choking you just hard enough to make your pussy spasm, and then you’re coming too, your scream of pleasure stifled by his grip on your neck.

After, Ari helps you into the bunk and tucks you into his big body beneath the blanket. He falls asleep wearing that Santa hat and some boxer briefs, while you’re naked in his arms. With your back to his chest, you can’t see the faint smile that curves his mouth as he drifts off.

When Ari finally buys you that string of lights he promised, you learn that the ‘test’ he wanted to do before you strung them up was to tie you up in them. He winds the cord around your calves, then your thighs, binding your legs together before he plugs them in to make sure they’re all working. 

Ari takes a long moment to look at you like that, naked on the bunk in the back of his rig, save for the thick socks keeping your feet toasty, and the warm, golden lights of the Christmas decoration he bought for you. 

It makes him want to buy you more, to see how you’d look laid out beneath a fully decked out Christmas tree while he fucked your pussy, or how you’d feel curled up in a blanket covered in reindeer while he held you on his lap, his cock buried in your ass. He wants to see you wearing a Santa hat that matched his own, sucking his cock on Christmas morning while he made you coffee.

Ari reminds himself that the two of you are spending Christmas in his rig that year, driving around the country until well into January. But he saves those ideas for another time, tucking them into a box in a corner deep in his mind reserved for all the softer, more domestic plans he has for you—the ones you’ve started to inspire in him despite the fact that he’s never thought of himself as a man with soft or domestic side. 

To distract himself, Ari digs out the Santa hat he bought at that rest stop and puts it on your head, pulling it down over your ears and giving you a satisfied little grin. Then he folds your body in half, pushing your bound legs up to your chest and off to the side so he can watch your face contort in pleasure while he sinks his cock into you.

The string of lights are digging into your skin a little painfully and you’re bent in an almost uncomfortable position, but you can’t help but enjoy it when Ari plunges into your cunt and sets a fast, merciless pace. 

You’d never expected a conversation about Christmas decorations to end up with you tied up in a string of lights, but then, nothing about your trucker was ever what you expected—and that was part of why you loved him so much. You couldn’t wait to spend that Christmas and many more with your trucker king, Ari Levinson.

trucker king masterlist & dirty filthy truckers universe masterlist

[seikkoi]

ᴡɪᴛʜᴇʀ | j.barnes x f!reader

READ ON AO3

Your words hang in the air like laundry on a rainy day–pointless and unchanging in purpose. The empty space dares him to say something back, but the more time passes, the less sure he seems. His mouth opens and closes, jaw tense and fighting against something inside.

“I can’t be what you need.”

content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. post-snap au, secondary character death, implied/referenced abortion, survivor's guilt, grief, ptsd, etc., explicit mentions of alcohol, angst, hurt with absolutely no comfort, no y/n usage word count: 5.1k

“James–” you try to call out, and the syllables die in your throat.

He pauses at the threshold, shoulders slump. 

“I can’t,” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than to you.

The walls thunder when the door slams behind him, leaving a silence empty enough to hear your own pulse. It’s quick, adrenaline still rushing and heat still dancing on your tongue. Even though you feel defeated in your own right. You thought you would have so much more to say, so much more anger to let out. Insults and frustrations you’ve buried over months. But your admission had sliced deep enough, and Bucky was clearly uninterested in staying for round two. 

It wasn’t meant to end like this, you weren’t supposed to tell him like this. You had anxiously prepared for this conversation, waiting for a night he was sober enough to remember you existed. He’d call over and over from midnight to two in the morning, breaking your will with every ring until you answered and save him from whatever hole he was drowning in. Or, he’d show up and plead for you through the door. You obliged him every time, saying it was for your neighbors peace and not your own. But that was a lie, it was for you–each time. 

You couldn’t stand leaving him alone and broken, and he needed that. He needed someone to care. Something solid, safe. You were a journalist–not risking your life everyday and grounded enough to understand why he still did. 

Yeah, he wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore, but that wasn’t stopping him. He wanted to pay the world back. Do anything to make all the terror worth it. It didn’t matter that the toll could never be paid in full, that the universe never asked for retribution. He didn’t think he deserved to have anything else. 

In the beginning, after HYDRA fell, it gave him purpose. He started to feel normal. Steve pulled him back into the world a year ago when all he wanted to do was hide away. He thought he could, thought he was ready. It felt good to save people instead of harm. To have children reach for him in safety. He listened to Sam and attended the veteran’s meetings. He didn’t need to share for everyone to know who he was–the sight of the brooding, gloved man in the corner with dark eyes told enough on its own. He soaked in the stories of others, taking solace in knowing no one experience was unique. 

He started going out, living. Steve and Sam drag him to the gym a few times a week, which inevitably spirals into the gym and lunch afterwards. On Sam’s birthday, he guilts Bucky and Steve into ‘just one shot’, which, of course, inevitably spirals into several shots and a few beers.

Bucky won’t say it then, but it’s the most normal he’s felt since 1945. He watches Steve make a passionate argument for English beers (to Sam’s dismay), and swears he watched him make the same argument 50 years ago in a bar two boroughs over. 

He had gained the courage to venture the city on his lonesome. It was overwhelming and exhilarating. Streets he thought he knew like the back of his hand had completely transformed, and totems he thought would be long forgotten stood the test of time. 

He winds up back in Brooklyn, strolling the outskirts of his old neighborhood. He didn’t dare pass the frontier, not yet. Still, it felt good to be this close. The streets were different now—sleeker, polished, bustling with a new generation of dreamers—but their roots carried the scent of home. The barbershop he used to frequent is now home to an upscale coffee shop. The old brick facade is now limestone white, and he honestly might prefer it that way. 

He had another few blocks of reminiscing to do, but the door swings open as a young couple emerges in high spirits, carrying a very enticing croissant and a mouth watering smell to match.

He doesn’t catch you on the other side of the glass–looking away from your laptop to catch some leather-bound brood get seduced by a pastry. You chuckle as the choice seems to take him very little time to make, stopping just long enough to watch the couple walk by and catch the door behind them. 

He seems innocent enough despite the heavy coat and deep scowl. You can’t help turning slightly in your barstool to watch him, sticking out from the new age pop music and neon lights. You have to hide in your book when he heads for the empty seat next to you. 

“Did no one ever tell you staring was impolite?” 

You stammered an apology as he laughed and asked what you were reading. After you ramble for a minute too long, he pledges to give it a try and let you know what he thinks. 

“Same time next week?” he smiles, knocking against the counter and leaving as quickly as he entered, treat in hand. 

You didn’t want to take what he said seriously. Obviously, it was polite sarcasm. He didn’t mean it. You weren’t getting dressed and heading back to the cafe the following week because you expected him to be there or anything. No, no. You had an article to finish and that was your spot anyway. If he’s there again, it’s not because of you, it’s because of the croissant, obviously.

But he is there. Not only is he there, he’s got the book you recommended in hand. He waves the spine enthusiastically across the room when you take your place at the counter, and you try not to smile too hard. 

You didn’t think it’d spiral into anything. You hadn’t meant to ask him for his number the next week, it just sort of stumbled out–under the guise of talking about the book, of course. 

Instead, you two talk about anything but that. At first, Bucky’s shy to admit he didn’t quite get some of the references, and you happily spend a half an hour explaining Blade Runner. He begs you not to call him James out of embarrassment, and you do it anyway (eventually, it turns into a well-liked habit). You tell him about the time you tripped crossing the graduation stage, and he laughs as if he was seeing it live. 

For weeks you find yourself glued to your phone well into the early morning hours, swapping high school stories and food criticisms with such ease that you forget your giggling with one of the world’s deadliest assassins. You avoid bringing it up–you were a journalist, you read the papers. You didn’t need him to relive that to you. Especially when you were both too busy falling hard, and fast. Phone calls turn into dinners that turn into him spending the night in your bed. 

Before you know it, you’re spending your Sundays watching him completely fail a pancake flip in your kitchen. There’s warmth in the air, in your ribs. Settled and comforting in a way you never knew you needed. And then he presents his blob shaped creation like a true work of art and you realize you don't want that feeling to go anywhere. 

He brought that into your life, swelling and warm with every terrible pancake flip, soft smile, or kiss to your cheek.

And Bucky was better for it. To know he could love, to be loved in return. It grounded him more than any ghost walks through the old neighborhood ever would. This, what he had with you, it was here now. 

Maybe the fight could truly be over. Maybe he was finally safe. 

And then, Thanos happens.

It is the worst month of your life. You go from slow dancing in the living room, leaning against him and taking in the calm of his heartbeat, to watching the news in horror as Thanos’ army came to Earth. Scotland, New York, Wakanda. Footage of smoke rising in great plumes, painting the skyline with streaks of ash and chaos. Alien ships hover like vultures, dropping black-armored creatures into the streets below. And somewhere in that chaos was Bucky.

Or so you had hoped. Girlfriends weren’t high on the SHIELD update chain, and his location was confidential regardless. So, for 28 days, all you could do was watch the chaos unfold from the other side of the screen. On day twenty-nine, you woke up to find that half the world had vanished without a trace. You call Sam over and over, praying that he was okay, that Bucky was okay. 

No one answers, and for another three days you sit alone in your apartment swallowed whole by grief. Friends, family, the blonde barista at the coffee shop, and the man you barely got to love. 

A knock at the door pulls you from your stupor, eyes raw and cheeks red. And when the door swings open, your world tilts again. 

“Hey, doll.”

He says it so casually, like he’d just step out for an afternoon, not over a month. There’s a cascade of bruises on his face, a pristine bandage wrapped around his arm, but he’s there. Alive. Flesh and Bone.

You don’t think, you leap. Your arms tangle around his shoulders, squeezing until you’re shaking. He grunts softly in surprise, but his arms wrap around you tightly, steadying you like he always does.

You sob before you can even speak, your cries muffled against his chest. His metal hand runs gently along your back.

You hoped–assumed all would return to normal now. The life you were starting didn’t need to be on hold a second longer. The world would take time to heal, sure, but for now you could go back to late night slow dances and burnt Sunday pancakes. 

But then, you hear about Sam.

He didn’t make it.

Neither did countless others Bucky had dared to call family the last few years. You listen in stunned silence as Bucky tells you, the weight of the losses hanging heavy in the air between you. His voice cracks when he mentions Steve, though he doesn’t say much else. You don’t press—what more could you possibly ask?

For a while, both of you stay shadows of yourselves, and you imagined a great deal of others followed suit. Work didn’t go anywhere–being exponentially difficult if anything. Constant reporting of the aftermath, the testimonies. You don’t admit it and you don’t quit, but you start to hate it. You run out of words to describe what happened and no one can make up their minds for quite a while. The editor-in-chief gives you sympathetic nods for every late article, but you know you’re hanging on by a thread.

At night, Bucky holds you a little too tight, and you let him.

You catch him staring out the window in the early morning. Sharp lines draw on his face and you wonder if what you write is nearly half as bad as what he’s seen. It’s the only time you wonder what he’s done, what any of this has truly been like for him.

Truthfully, it’s hell. 

For weeks now he’d pulled countless mangled bodies from rubble, killed heartless scavengers who wouldn’t put the damn gun down, and watched the world he started to love again fall apart. And the rebuilding effort was estimated to take years. He didn’t have years of this in him. 

And who's to say Thanos was done? He had the stone, all the power in the universe to squander them at a moment's notice. Two of the strongest people he knew, gone with a single snap. 

“Why wasn’t it me?” he thinks, staring down an empty glass. 

The compound was eerily empty, with Stark still M.I.A and everyone else busy putting out fires at all corners of the globe. Pepper couldn’t stand the silence and left for her parents’ house in Boston. Bucky doesn’t even know what he’s doing here. He should be out there like everyone else–helping more, looking Tony, or supporting you. But it’s 2 am and he’s stuck, unable to face anyone and unable to cry. 

The fight would never be over. And he would never be able to keep anyone safe.

So he pulls away. Like night and day you go from two ghostly shadows, dancing in charred grief to nuclear reactions, ready to set the other off at a moment's notice. He can't cope and you can hardly move on, but you are moving. You push Bucky to do the same and it never ends well. It’s easier for you, and you know that. You’re constantly reminded of the devastation behind the thin veil of pictures and text. There is no separation for Bucky. Every cry, every hint of death and absence, floods his senses until it’s all his brain can compute.

The world is gone.

In a flash of anger, he throws the bottle against the refrigerator and takes pride in the shatter. F.R.I.D.A.Y is smart enough not to offer assistance. 

Peace was at his fingertips. He felt it. He missed it. Watching Steve and Sam argue about the most trivial topics. Listening to you ramble at 3 am about bad romance novels. Seeing actual joy in strangers on the street. Being in the world when it felt whole again.

Now, he can’t look at you without thinking of loss. The folly of love. Pain would always lurk on the horizon. He could try over and over to rebuild. It didn’t matter and it never would. The universe was a cruel bitch–and nowhere knew through him by the looks of it. Every night he goes to sleep with a heavy ache in his heart. A miasma that sits on his chest and stares at him through his dreams. In the morning, it follows him from place to place. Watching, waiting to swallow him whole.

When Bucky comes to you later that evening reeking of sorrow, you have a look that he can’t place. He thinks you can see it, the dread stalking him. The emptiness. He can’t take it and leaves as soon as he arrives. With each passing day, he pulls away more, and more and more. It’s better to lose you this way. 

It doesn’t stop you from calling and sometimes he answers. Some days he shows up and holds you like nothing ever happened. He loses his grief in the soft corners of your body, and you let him. It helps you too. You find yourself all the same, soaking in his weight against the mattress. It’s hopeful, the way he touches you. Delicate, precise–not in pleasure but in preservation. He breaks you apart until you’re left to just the finest parts. Thinking of nothing but him, wanting nothing but him. Hungry teeth mark the soft flesh at your pulse, the skin on your inner thigh. All to catalogue the noises you make, to feel your nails dig into his shoulders. He does this for his own memory, savouring as much of you as you can before you’re gone for good.  He knows it’s inevitable. 

It’s always been inevitable.

In the morning, it’s lost all over again when he disappears, leaving the scent of mulberry and whiskey behind. 

Carol finds Nebula and Tony in cold space. Battered, starving, and a moment away from slow death. Bucky had a dust of hope left that the genius had one more trick up his sleeve. A month passes while he recovers, then weeks. After a year Pepper and Tony find a quaint cabin up north to forget. Or maybe to start over? Bucky can’t tell and he gets too mad at his absence to care. Tony Stark got to stop being Iron Man and all James wishes for is to stop being Bucky.

The time between his late-night visits as the miasma greedily feeds. The loneliness and old memories stops either of you from saying what needs to be said. It’s harder and harder for him to face you. Each time Bucky leaves you craving what you had before, while still giving you hope it might come back.

He stops coming to the cafe altogether. Stopped calling. The man who once lit up your entire world now burned through whiskey like it was water, each sip drowning him a little further

The day you find out, it’s bittersweet, and you dared to hope again. You picture, even if just for a second, a bright future. Burnt pancakes with an extra plate, soft laughter from the dinner table as you and Bucky waltz around the kitchen–you picture it all in such a sharp flash. A reason for both of you to hope again. It’s vivid and near disorienting. You sit against the bathroom wall staring at the pink double lines. 

Out of instinct and burning joy, you called Bucky, heart racing and a smile creeping onto your face. 

It rings once. Twice. Three Times. And then voicemail. 

And then you remember who Bucky is, or rather who he’s becoming.

And your heart sinks.

For two days you cry and wait. That he’d call back, that this time he had a reason. That the universe wasn’t giving you an enormous final sign. 

Each day blurs into the next  and you’re forced to face the music. The future you pictured, it would never be reality. In reality, things continued to deteriorate. Just as Bucky realized anything could take you away from him, you realized he was already gone. Sure, he survived the snap, but he wasn’t living. He perished just the same. You were left with a man hollow from far more than just grief. And a man who could never be a father. That peaceful future could never exist because this world would never give you peace. 

Children weren’t a part of your life plan. You couldn’t do it on your own and you knew that. You weren’t sure you could do it under any circumstances. But you certainly couldn’t in this world. Not now. 

So you made a choice, alone. You called Bucky again before making the appointment, to no answer. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell a friend, sunken by anger and sadness you can’t. You go alone, drive home alone, and cry alone for two weeks. 

You start to think this time he’s never coming back. Your decision feels justified, righteous, and forty times worse. The bed sheets maintain a perfect shape for you to hide in. Not from Bucky. No, you wish he’d seek you out. At your absolute worst and wanting him the most. Even though you knew you should hate him, cast him aside in your mind. 

But you just can’t. Call it loneliness or stupidity–it didn’t matter. You keep a sliver of hope that he waltzes right back into your life, this time as himself, whole. Unbroken and ready to belt Frank Sinatra down the empty streets as he walks you home. You could loop his arms in his again and lean steady on his weight once more. 

Maybe you got desperate for it. While the weeks stretched into another month, and you had to keep living. People seemed to fill the gaps others left behind. Deadlines came back, along with birthdays, sports tournaments, and holidays. There was always an air of despair to everything, though. Tributes and memorials were constant, and the topic never truly left public discussion. It simply changed from a thing that was happening, to a thing that had happened. 

You met new people, a lot, in fact. A few even ask you out. Each time you turn them down, lying about you weren’t ready for dating yet or that work was too hectic. Truthfully, the thought of being with anyone else felt like an act of betrayal. Logically, after twenty seven days (because yes, you were counting) of missed calls and ignored texts, one might assume any romantic relationship did, or should come to end. But not you, not with Bucky. 

You didn’t want anyone else. But he wasn’t here. 

On day thirty four, a heavy knock wakes you around midnight. You’re half-asleep, shivering in your night-gown and wishing you wore something warmer to bed when you answer. 

Bucky slouches against the door frame, clothes wrinkled and eyes glinting. He looks at you for a second, just long enough for you to see the anguish stalking him, before he crosses into your apartment–taking your face between his palms and kissing you.

You don’t think, only react. You never do on these nights, the nights he bothers to remember you and you’re desperate enough to let him in. You react to the liquor-stained tongue dancing in your mouth, his hands finding your hips and pushing yours against the wall. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, and when his hands paw at the silk of your nightgown, you untie it for him. 

You don’t think as tears flood the back of your eyes, just as desperate as you are for release. It’s love, anger, need, and grief in their most convoluted form–working together and fogging your mind. 

You don’t think when he lifts you around his waist, tongue still searching for peace behind your lips. It’s been long, too long for both of you. Too many nights and days spent praying he’d come back to you. He lays you down on your bed, trailing down your body and leaving you breathless. You can hardly see him in the dark room. A shadow, lighting your nerves on fire without a single word. 

Some shifts. Perhaps it comes from the way he pauses at your hip. Fleeting and haunting. Recoiling as if the bone will break skin to seek him out. Livid that he would dare to take more than he deserves.

You don't think, and misread his hesitation as a chance to take control. Flip the script. Leave him a wanting mess. You don’t want to give yourself any time in reality. You want to pretend this is one of your first times. Before the world bowed under its own weight. Before you Bucky became your curse.  And thinking is antithetical to whatever currently happens between you two in these four walls. 

Your hands graze the lines of his jaw in the dark, finding full hairs where your mind remembers itchy stubble. Too much time has passed. You don’t think, pulling him back towards you and capturing his lips, trying to mimic the hungry passion he showed you at the door. 

He doesn’t show you any return and you would think to stop, but you aren’t there yet. You try harder, until his arms braces your forearm. The cold metal grounds you and forces you to find his eyes in the shadows. 

“This is wrong, I shouldn’t be here.” he whispers, almost like he’s speaking to himself.  You hold his gaze briefly before it darts to the floor. 

Your heart sinks like a stone. Your ribcage wants to tighten around it. 

You tighten your nightgown instead. 

“Don’t,” you plead, but Bucky was already pulling away, fingers curling into fists at his sides. 

“I mean it.” he took another step back, and the stone reaches your stomach. “I can’t keep doing this.”

“Can’t?” you shot up, more sharp and cutting than you thought. “What the hell does that mean, James? You can’t? After everything–” 

He knows you're using his birth name out of anger, but even then he relishes in the way it sounds on your tongue. 

He still doesn’t bear to look at you, shoulders slumping. “I shouldn’t have come here, I should’ve known better.”

The laugh that breaks out of you isn’t a laugh at all. It was something jagged and bitter. You leave your bed to face him, refusing to let him ignore the hurt he’s causing.

“You should’ve known better? Now what, you disappear again and call it noble this time?”

“I’m trying to do what’s best for you! I’m trying to protect you!” he snapped, loud enough to echo. 

“Protect me from what? From you?” you repeat, incredulous. The words taste sour. 

“Yes!” he burst out, voice high and raw. “You don’t need this–you don’t need me.”

Breaths can barely leave your throat. You think this is what people always meant when they said they were ‘seeing red’. You want to ask if he thinks you needed him after losing half of everyone you cared about, too. After eight hours a day writing about tragedies that somehow felt two feet in front of you despite happening thousands of miles away.

“I can’t believe I thought you could ever be a father–that we might have a family.” It’s an admission you mean to keep in your head, but it spills out in a tangled mess with your tears before you can realize what you’re saying. 

Bucky snaps his head up. His jaw clenches, and for a moment, it looks like he’s going to argue. But the weight of your words seems to register. He doesn’t say anything, and the silence is suffocating. You feel the space between you both stretching, threatening to snap. He finally meets your eyes, and the vulnerability there almost breaks you again.

“What are you talking about?” He knows the answer to his own question. But he wants to be wrong. He prays to be wrong.

“I was pregnant and you couldn’t even pick up the phone.” you grit, trying not to yell, cry, or some combination of both. You fail, and your sparse tears turn into full streams. “I didn’t know what to do–I was alone.”

“When were you going to tell me?” His tone is low, in a confused attempt to process, but all you hear is blame. 

“I tried! For weeks! I couldn’t just wait on the sidelines for you to love me again, I couldn’t do this without you and you weren’t here!” 

“You don’t understand,” he mutters, his voice cracking under your anger. 

“Then help me understand!” you plead, stepping closer, your heart pounding against your ribs. “Help me understand why I had to make that choice alone.”

“I’ve lost everything,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Everything I’ve ever cared about. And I can’t—I won’t—put you in that same category.”

You stare at him, your chest tightening with both frustration and heartache. “So, what, you just decide to give up? Walk away and lose me anyway?” 

“That’s not what this is–I’m not giving up,” he insists, though there's a lack of conviction in his voice. 

“Bullshit, you’re just a coward–you’re giving up because it’s easy and staying here and making things work is harder.”

Bucky froze, his jaw tightening as your words settled between them like a storm cloud. His voice was low, measured, but laced with contempt.

“Don’t give me that crap, There’s nothing easy about letting you go.”

“You don’t get to talk to me about giving up, Bucky. Not when you’re the one walking away. Not again.”

“You think I’m just cutting myself off from everything, throwing my entire life away, throwing you away, leaving every last thing I know and care about behind, because I want the easy life?” He stepped closer, his eyes blazing. 

“It was never that easy for me to do this—with you, with anyone! It was so much easier for me to go on thinking there was something I could do to make a real difference, but I know now—” His voice cracked slightly, and he ran a hand through his hair. 

“I know now there’s nothing I can do. The only path everything leads to is everything being ripped away from me.”

You shook your head, voice sharp. “That’s a lie, and you know it.”

“If I could do something to be at peace,” he continued, his voice still rising, “then I’d do it. I swear to you that I would. But it’s all just... waiting to slip through my fingers, leaving nothing behind.”

“That’s not true!” you snapped, your fists clenching. “You’re the one letting it all slip away, Bucky. Not fate, not some unstoppable force—you.”

“Bullshit!” His words were a snarl now, his hands clenched at his sides as though he didn’t know where else to put the anger. “What do you know? What the hell do you actually know about me, huh?”

Her lips parted, but he didn’t wait for an answer. “Nothing! I’ll tell you what kind of man I really am.” His voice softened, the anger bleeding into something more resigned. “I had nothing when I started, and I’ll have nothing when this nightmare finally ends. And I’m not wasting your life too.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me!” you shouted, stepping forward. “You don’t get to play martyr and act like I’m just collateral damage in whatever war you’re fighting with yourself. I’m here. I’ve always been here.”

“You know I’m right,” he bit out, his voice suddenly colder, quieter. “You knew it when you decided to end it–and I don’t blame you.”

There isn’t any air left in the room.

“I’m an empty shell. There’s nothing inside me at all. I know there isn’t. Guess that’s obvious. Anybody could see that. Before Steve got me, before I met you...” Bucky laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

You don’t know what to say. You don’t know how to fix this. You want to start over.

“Do you have any idea what I did with my life? I hurt people, I terrorized people, that’s what. I’ve never done a single honorable thing.” He looked at you with glossy eyes.

“You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to decide that nothing good has ever come from you, just so you can justify giving up. You don’t get to rewrite everything, Bucky.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with frustration and hurt.

Your words hang in the air like laundry on a rainy day–pointless and unchanging in any purpose. The empty space dares him to say something back, but the more time passes, the less sure he seems. His mouth opens and closes, jaw tense and fighting against something inside.

“I can’t be what you need.”

It’s soft and final.

Before you can even process it, he turns sharply, heading out your bedroom and to the front door. Each thud of boots feels heavier, more deliberate. 

“James–” you try to call out, and the syllables die in your throat.

He pauses at the threshold, shoulders slump. 

“I can’t,” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than to you.

And then, without another word, the door slams behind him with a force that rattles your bones.

You stand there in the dark, the silence swallowing you whole. The words you want to say, the things you wish you could take back, settle into the pit of your stomach like stones.

But he's gone, turning into a ghost once more. And for the first time in a long while, you know he won’t be coming back to haunt you. 

[ comments & reblogs appreciated ♡ thx for reading ]

[ashela-ley]

Can we talk about Cartman's tendency to pet Kyle? And the way Kyle lets him do it?

It's such an under-discussed part of their dynamic. Cartman does this all the time. He does it to tease Kyle. He does it to comfort him. He does it to express gratitude. He even does it to pictures of Kyle when Kyle's not there.

And you could say that's just Cartman, he's just touchy, that's just how he expresses himself . . . except that it's really not. All this petting and stroking isn't something you see him do with Stan and Kenny. (Friends he has said multiple times he loves.) It's not something he does with his actual pet, Mr Kitty. It's not something he does with his mom. It's not even something he does with Heidi or Yentl. There's a lot of hand-holding and kissing in those relationships, but Cartman appears to consider this expected romantic partner behavior, and to be imitating that accordingly. What you don't see with them is the clingy, almost unconscious need to touch he demonstrates with Kyle. Kyle has to be stroked, patted, petted, hugged, poked, pulled on . . . it seems to be a comfort thing for Cartman, and that is just so fascinating to me.

It's also endlessly fascinating to me that Kyle - who has no problem putting Cartman in his place about anything else - allows this nearly every time. Maybe there's some token complaining, but he never actually tries to stop it. It's not "ew, Cartman is hugging me" it's always "why is Cartman hugging me?" and that's a subtle difference I think gets overlooked. People like to claim Kyle's response to Cartman having a crush on him would be disgust, and that Kyman could only ever be one-sided for this reason. But Kyle's response to Cartman being affectionate with him is actually pretty much always confusion, not disgust. I get the impression Kyle doesn't know how he feels about it.

I'm not sure what I'm trying to say here, but it's just so interesting to me, the relationship they both have to touch. Cartman uses Kyle to fulfil his need for touch and connection - and Kyle doesn't often reciprocate this touch, but he pretty consistently makes the concession of allowing it. They're feeling each other out, trying to work out "who are you to me and what do I feel for you?" It's one of the elements of Kyman that makes the ship so endearing, I think. There's this sweetness to it that absolutely should not exist between these characters, but does anyway.

Definitely! You’re right, Cartman does seem to seek out physical contact with Kyle considerably more than with anyone else he isn’t directly romantically involved with and my favourite instances of this is when he does so under the guise of antagonizing him. Two examples of this are the whole ‘Jennifer Lopez’-thing in “Fat Butt and Pancake Head” and Cartman promoting Kyle to the Germans in “Funnybot”. In both cases he uses an instance of disrespecting Kyle as a front to compliment him, with the ‘Jennifer Lopez’-persona constantly being gushing over him, telling him how much she likes him, calling him ‘handsome’ and of course ‘kissing’ him by Cartman pressing his hand against Kyle’s mouth. This is especially interesting considering the fact that later in the episode it is very heavily implied (and then pretty much outright confirmed in “200”) that Cartman really doesn’t have full control over the character. In “Funnybot” Cartman calls Kyle either ‘gentle/soft’ or ‘juicy’ (lol), ‘pretty’, and ‘very beautiful’ in extremely mangled German (which I guess is just regular German in-universe since the native speakers talk just like that) and while the context of the scene is obviously very dark for the viewer, who can infer what’s going on, Kyle doesn’t actually seem to realise what is happening. He doesn’t appear to understand what is being said at all and as such Cartman doesn’t even really have the excuse that he’s teasing him.

This scene fits the reaction you described that Kyle tends to have when Cartman engages him in physical contact very well: Kyle reacts to Cartman excessively touching him with confusion but simply lets it happen. He has every reason to be wary of Cartman’s intentions and yet he makes no effort to stop him from what he’s doing. In “ManBearPig” Kyle wakes up to find Cartman leaning over him and while he doesn’t actually touch him, he does get extremely close to him, giving us the famous image of their faces mere inches apart. Kyle’s reaction to this is incredibly understated: He appears at most slightly irritated and attempts neither to push Cartman off nor to move away from him. Once again, he mostly just seems confused by Cartman’s behaviour but, as far as we can see, makes no further attempts to investigate the reasons behind it. This understated reaction is an indication of an (imo) often overlooked aspect of their relationship, which is that while Kyle is well aware of what Cartman is theoretically capable of, he doesn’t actually seem worried that he’d ever seriously harm him. Personally, if I found myself trapped in a cave with a person who constantly professes his hatred for me and whom I know has no qualms about killing people, and then woke up to find said person looming over me in my sleep I’d be much more worried than Kyle appears to be. In fact, considering everything that has happened over the course of their relationship and how many despicable things Cartman has done, Kyle seems Weirdly Comfortable And Safe With His Evil, Ill-Intentioned Friend. Because that’s what they are: They’re friends. To call it a complicated friendship might be an understatement but when it comes down to it the simple fact of the matter is that these two do like each other. While in earlier seasons a point could be made that they only spend time together out of necessity (with the main four being somewhat isolated from the other kids, as Craig points out in “Pandemic 2”, and Cartman originally being an incidental part of the group as ‘the friend no one likes’), they’ve both long since expanded their social circles to a point where they are no longer ‘forced’ to spend time together for lack of better options. Kyle would be more than justified in cutting Cartman off completely and yet he doesn’t and I can honestly see no real reason for this other than the fact that he simply cares about him as a person.

So I agree that Kyle probably wouldn’t react with disgust to the hypothetical reveal that Cartman harbours romantic feelings towards him. I’m not claiming that he would necessarily be elated but I’m pretty sure ‘disgust’ would not be his first reaction and I think many people who think that it would be might at least partially hold that opinion due to projection: Because while we, as viewers, are frequently meant to find Cartman repulsive both physically and emotionally (his embodiment of the 'fat bastard' trope is a key part of his character, after all), Kyle doesn’t actually appear to overtly feel that way about him – which is to say he does kinda but not exclusively and it’s all just a bit more complicated than that. Kyle being thoroughly confused does seem like the most likely reaction to me. Regarding the physical aspect: Of course Kyle frequently makes derogatory remarks about Cartman’s appearance, specifically regarding his weight (to the point where it’s been a main focus of their dynamic for almost thirty years) but we see several times that his critique actually seems to stem from a place of worry and that he feels bad when he thinks that these comments have actually managed to hurt his feelings (e.g. “Raising the Bar”). Of course, what exactly Kyle’s feelings towards Cartman are is, with good reason, a source of much discussion and I’d claim that Kyle himself isn’t very sure of this. His sentiment towards Cartman definitely seems very erratic, with Kyle going from actively attempting to get him killed in “Fatbeard” to being concerned for his emotional well-being just a season later (“201”, “Poor and Stupid”). This concern Kyle has for a person he supposedly can’t stand has been a pretty consistent part of his character in later seasons and it’s especially striking when compared to the way he disregards his best friend’s feelings when he’s in genuine need of emotional support (“Raisins”, “You’re Getting Old”). This discrepancy is not only an indicator of the complicated relationship Kyle has with Cartman but imho also hints at at least one reason for it. In a (painfully long-winded😅) comment on AO3 I just touched on the similarities between Kyle and Cartman how interesting I find the very different ways in which they deal with their shared character traits. I believe this is something that draws them towards each other, though I’m certain that neither is actually consciously aware of this. You put it so beautifully in your last sentence: "There's this sweetness to it that absolutely should not exist between these characters, but does anyway." There really is an unexpectedly soft underbelly to their relationship that is a lot of fun to explore. While I wont deny the toxic aspects of this ship (in fact, they’re a major part of what I find interesting about it), there is also the surprising potential for a real emotional connection between these characters.

[whatwooshkai]

Heatwave, H E A T W A V E

Eight letters

Number 8, please :D

Heatwave is not small.

Sure, he might be a little out of the average size class for fire trucks, but that’s negligible! He wasn’t even the shortest of his friend group back in Kaon!

But apparently his size is an anomaly in Iacon, because it’s all anyone can seem to focus on.

He's never been insecure about his size before, he's never had a reason to- but the nicknames are getting to him.

Heatwave is at most maybe half a foot shorter than the second shortest mech in their class, but it's all "Hey, Half-Pint!" "What's up, Runt?" "Shortstack" "Little Guy"-

He is this close to killing someone.

“I have an assistant today who’s joining me from the Autobot Fire Force today,” their usual instructor, Rex, announces. He’s a grizzled old mech who has been nothing but the bane of Heatwave’s existence this entire class.

It’s just Firefighter One, and the damn mech runs it like a fucking boot camp.

The other mechs in the class elbow each other and start whispering. He gets some looks from some of the mechs he's friendly with, the kind you exchange when you know the instructor is going to partner you up.

“Now, I expect all of you to treat Quint with the same respect you treat me,” Rex is saying when Heatwaves tunes back in. "He has graciously offered to spend his day off with you worms, so I will not tolerate any disrespect." He glares pointedly at a pair of giggling mechs, who quickly shut up.

"Alright, at attention!" Everyone's spinal strut snaps straight, and Rex looks over the line of mechs. "Alright, everyone's par, okay." He taps away at his comm a little bit, and a silhouette appears in the doorway.

The first thing Heatwave notices is that the mech has to duck through the doorway. Then he stands to his full height, and holy shit.

He's definitely a size class or two above the average for firetrucks, standing maybe five or six feet taller than the tallest mech in the class. His shoulders alone must be twice the width of Heatwave's!

And then he notices the second pair of arms, tucked neatly against the mech's chassis. Four arms!

The mech appraises them with yellow optics narrowed, mouth set in a small frown. Finials flick from where they're pressed against his helm, and when his shoulders shift, the ladder on his back squeaks slightly.

There’s an odd, dark weld over his upper lip and little spots all over his face- and somehow he simultaneously looks like the oldest and youngest mech Heatwave’s ever seen.

“You got anything to say before we start, Quint?” Rex talks like they’re familiar, like they’re friends, but Quint gives him a detached look.

“It ain’t your Primus-given right to be a firefighter,” Quint starts, and damn, that’s a Kaonite accent if Heatwave’s ever heard one. His accent is unusually thick, like he learned Common the old fashioned way instead of just getting a universal translator installed. “You might all be firetrucks, but you ain’t all cut out for this. So don’t expect me to coddle you.”

“Well said,” Rex says with a solemn nod, and Quint side eyes him. After a suffocatingly awkward moment, Rex claps his hands. "Alright. Truck ops with me, engine ops with Quint. My guys, we're running search evolutions until you can do them blindfolded without killing each other. Engine ops, you're stretching until you drop. Alright, break!"

Quint's gaze immediately lands on Heatwave as he shuffles to join the rest of the engines. Heatwave glares right back, shoulders hiking up to his audials.

"Hey, Runt." Heatwave bristles, whirling on Quint with fangs bared.

"Don't call me that," he snaps, but Quint looks unfazed. The rest of the engines are almost at the training tower, but Quint has hung back specifically to talk to Heatwave. Probably about how it's not my Primus-given right to be a firefighter, he thinks bitterly. Fuck off with all that.

"Do you speak Kaonite?" Quint asks, in Kaonite.

Oh, uh. Not what I was expecting.

Heatwave optics go wide, then narrow. "...Yeah," he says slowly in his native tongue, quashing the thrill of hearing it from his own voice again after so long.

Quint brightens significantly, his finials flicking up happily. He gestures for them to walk. "Your accent ain't strong, but it's there. Universal translator?"

"Yeah. I assume you aren't using one?" This feels weird. He's not quite sure why. Quint's lower two arms have uncrossed and are now swinging at his sides, while the top to gesture as he speaks. Heatwave sidesteps to avoid the swinging ones hitting him.

"Nah, learned the old fashioned way," Quint hums. "But that ain't what I'm here to ask you. Why're you so small?"

Heatwave bristles defensively. "I can't control how small I am, okay? It doesn't matter at all, I'm good at what I do-"

"I ain't sayin' you're bad at this, Runt," Quint interrupts, ignoring Heatwave's angry growl at the nickname. "I'm sayin' you should be bigger."

"What?" Heatwave's tanks suddenly cramp, sending a sharp pain through his tcog. He rapidly tamps down his panic. No, not here, fuck, shit-

"You're like, squashed," Quint continues, making gestures with all four of his hands now. "Like you got more mass than your frame knows what to do with."

Heatwave's tanks cramp again. "Are you calling me fat?" he accuses.

Quint rolls his optics. "No. Forget I said anythin'." He points to the training tower. "Now get over there. You're goin' in first."

Fair enough. Heatwave transforms his smoke mask over his face and gets into position next to his fellow firefighters as Quint begins to shout directions in heavily accented Common again.

His size doesn't matter.

Heatwave tries to forget the interaction.

[owlbeforesunset]

Here next year...

Pairing: San x Reader Summary:  You broke up eons ago when you were both young. You went off to uni and San went to an art school. You come back home for the first time for Christmas. You knew the only person you truly cared about the most had probably moved on but maybe… Genre: Fluff Au/Trope: Exes to lovers Rating: PG Word Count:  1.3k A/N: For my wonderful babycakes, @jaehunnyy. I hope it was to your liking. I was actually so happy when I got you for my secret santa and I chose San because you know... - For the @cromernet secret santa

It felt weird being so close to home, the familiar scenery passing by as I patiently sat on the bus waiting for the familiar stop. It feels like yesterday when I had just arrived at university and it was completely unfathomable to me that I would ever get to this day. The day I finally got to go home and say that I finished my degree. My heart felt whole knowing that I was so much closer to my dream career. Years of work and I was so much closer to becoming a sound engineer. All the sacrifices I made almost felt worth it, the sleepless nights and the lack of a social life. Now when I look back these sacrifices feel like a small price to pay to be able to get into the career I dreamed of. There was only one sacrifice that always pained me to think about…one that brought a familiar sting to my eyes when I think about the day I left.

The day I left him…

I quickly wiped the tears that escaped, running down my cheeks. That familiar ache settled in my chest as the day I last saw him. I could vividly remember it, how he was the one who dropped me off at the very stop that I was closely approaching. I could vividly remember him wearing the dark grey coat he wore that smelt so painfully like him when I gave him that last goodbye hug. His pained expression with his glossy eyes haunted me everyday as I started to walk towards the bus. As I sat on the bus, waiting for the bus to move, I couldn’t even look out the window at him. I remember the feeling of my tears falling onto my lap as I closed my eyes, trying to ease the pain of the loss. The loss of the man who never left my heart, no matter how hard I tried.

As I got off the bus, I was met with the joy of my family greeting me. I was really happy to see them again, excitedly hugging them after not seeing them for so long. It felt good to be back home, but at the back of my head, all I could think about was him.

“You miss him …don’t you…” My childhood bestfriend asked tentatively.

“...Is it that obvious?” I looked down at my hands, nervously playing with my fingers. “How’s he been… since I’ve been gone?’

“It’s been…tough. He’s just kinda focusing on school and dance.” You cracked a smile at that, happy that he still danced. The both of you bonded on your love for the arts, he loved to dance and you loved to sing. You were glad that he never stopped dancing.

“That’s good, that’s good… Is he, he- seeing anyone… right now..?” An unintentional sigh left your lips when your friend shook their head.

“He hasn’t seen anyone…just kind of focused on himself.” Your friend gave you a strange look, “would it bother if he was seeing someone?” You shifted in your seat uncomfortably, not wanting to answer the question. “Do you still love him?” 

The question hit you hard, because although years had passed since you left and communication slowly died out as time continued the love you felt never faded. Even though the long distance absolutely dismantled your relationship, you never stopped thinking about San. Although you still loved him, you know there was nothing stopping San from moving on no matter how much it hurt to think about.

“I do…” you hugged your knees against your body as your vision started to appear misty. Your friend approached you, gently caressing your back to comfort you.

“You should talk to him…you never know what could come from it.”

“I know I should but it’s been so long…and what if-” 

“You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

A week had passed and the shame had grown. You couldn’t bring yourself to face San again. You blame yourself for the end of your relationship since your shitty time management skills obviously pushed San away. How could you face him when you made him feel like he was secondary to your life. Now you were too much of a coward to even face him again… for him to tell you that he was no longer in love with you and he wanted nothing to do with you. No matter how hard you tried, you could not face that reality. 

It was Christmas eve and your family was a little bit too chaotic for you today. You decided it would be good for you to talk a walk around town to try and clear your mind. You were walking down the street, looking through the windows of the different stores. You loved the decor and lights, they looked so much prettier in the evening. Most of the stores were closed now but it was still nice to see the lights filling the snow covered streets. As you continued down the street you saw the most beautifully lit large Christmas tree adorning the street. A few people were gathered around it taking pictures and taking in its beauty. You made your way towards the tree, hoping to capture an image of the tree. 

As you start taking pictures of the tree, making your way around the tree for the best angle, you bump into someone. You completely lose your balance, falling forwards. Fully expecting to fall face first into the snow, you were confused that you were still up right. When you open your eyes, you are met with the familiar brown eyes from your past. What are the odds…? San quickly helped you steady yourself on your feet. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring at him, your lips slightly parted. 

“Hi.” His voice broke you out of the slight trans you were in.

“Hi!”  Your hand shot up quickly, your voice coming out a little bit more shrill than you intended. He gave you a puzzled look before hesitantly grasping and softly shaking your hand. The feeling of his skin against yours was electric even though his hand was slightly cold from the snow. You missed him. 

“So…are you going to let go or…” You quickly dropped his hand, your cheeks warming up in the cold winter air.

“Oh…I’m so sorry. I, I just- I’m sorry.” He smiled, the dimples in his cheeks becoming more prominent warming your soul like they did in the past.

“No worries.” You stood there in front of the tree in a comfortable silence, staring at the twinkling lights. Stealing glances at San, his figure gently lit by the lights of the tree, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself when you noted the lingering smile on his lips. The shame and worry you felt before felt silly now as you stood there together.

“Do you wanna go out sometime…with me?” A silence lingered as you looked into each other's eyes.

“I was hoping you’d ask.”

A year had passed and it was Christmas eve again but this time it felt a lot different. You had left your hometown again but this time you weren’t living in your crappy uni accommodation, you had your own apartment. This time you aren’t  stressing about how uni is going to be in the coming year, you were finally a sound engineer and it was no longer just a fantasy. This time you weren’t feeling the grief of your past love, you were…well now you were sitting in front of the fire, in those familiar arms that got you through so much. Now you looked down at your hand at the glimmering jewerly that solidified your future. 

The years you spent dreading the day you would have to accept the fact that you would spend every holiday, every Christmas alone came to this. Going into every Christmas knowing that the love of my life will be next year.

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed <3

[hee0soo]

How quick things can change...

Pairing — Kang Yeosang x Reader

Summary — A lot of things change in life. Some from good to bad and from bad to worse. And some go from worse to even worse real quick....

Genre — horror, angst

AU/Trope Info — SerialKiller au

Wordcount — 1.4k

Warnings — murder, manipulation, blood, knives, mention of guns, torture, death

Rating — NSFW ☕️☕️☕️☕️

A/N — @surveilenceysystem merry christmas and i hope you like your present... i know you said you like all things horror but writing this my mind went into some very dark places to the point i was scared it's to much. It's still a fear tbh

Anyways all the things you chose in your little game led to this and if you wanna know what everything meant then hit me up☺️

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©hee0soo on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

A year ago your life had been simple.

Going to university, studying something you were passionate about while slaving away over course work and a side job to keep you afloat. It was hard but calm, almost to calm if not to say boring.

Yes, you were bored of your life as it was. The same routines, the same people and the same things being drilled into your head by your family and friends.

“Just concentrate on your studies! Go out with friends and be good.”

Be good.

Funny, and ironic when you thought back on it.

Nobody would think what had become of you ever since you had met him.

Kang Yeosang, finished with university, a bit older and with an aura that was darker than most souls would expect when seeing his sweet, innocent and almost ethereal beauty for the first time.

He hid it well.

The darkness that lingered in his eyes when he smiled. The things he said with the most innocent of voices sometimes, making it look like he didn´t know what he was talking about when the contrary was the case.

He was… fascinating…

Your friends after all this time had still not know what to make of him, but they knew one thing. You had changed and none of them like it.

And they were right. You did change. After all, a year ago you wouldn´t have reveled in the fear of girls trying to get away from your clutches, sending a shot of pure adrenaline through your veins and making you feel more a life then you had ever felt. It was liberating in a way. Watching as they struggled once they fell into the trap you had set with Yeosang, now your lover, dragging them away together to your own little fantasy land as the man called it.

Catching the blood that was running down the sobbing girl’s forehead with your thumb you grinned at her before sticking your finger into your mouth, licking the liquid of with such pleasure one would think you ate candy.

“Don´t worry darling, it would hurt all that much…” you grinned like a cat that caught her mouse, causing the shaking girl to whimper in fear when she couldn´t free herself from the bindings holding her in place.

Yeosang was sat in his favorite old bean bag that had more stitches then fabric holding it together, enjoying the way you played with the present you had been given by him. He had noticed how restless you had become since the last one, giving him the idea to for once let you do as you pleased with it. He watched as you trailed the butterfly knife he had given you once he had introduced you to his life down her throat before cutting into her skin.

The girl screamed in pure terror and pain at the blade cutting into her skin and he could feel his dick harden in his pants.

You cooed at her. Taunting her with sweet little words that did nothing but make you more excited for what you were going to do. He was proud to see what he had made out of you.

The once good a diligent girl was now a killer that precisely did what she needed to do without regret.

You took a knife away slowly, walked around the chair, circling like a lion did her pray, grabbing into her hair and puling harshly on it. The scared girl cried out and you reacted by plunging the blade into her back. Warm blood ran down her back, dripping onto the floor and staining the once white carpet underneath her dark.

The dried patches littering the fabric being proof that many had sat in the poor girls position already.

“Pleaseee… let me go… “She whimpered weakly after having calmed down a bit and you snickered.

“No.” you said and stabbed her once more. Her voice had given out, only little noises of pain slipping out at this point.

The injuries she had sustained making her weak, life bleeding out of her with every drop of blood she lost until she was quiet.

“Now that wasn´t much fun, was it? She was dead way to quick!” you complained with a huff. Yeosang laughed quietly.

“You´re too impatient baby. Drag it out more, let them feel their pain. Let them feel how their own blood grows cold as it spills all over the floor underneath them.”

You tilted your head to the side.

“You didn´t let that detective feel his blood grow cold when you shot him in that alley.”

Coming closer you sat in his lap and buried your head in his shoulder.

“I did that to give you a chance to get away, or would you have wanted me to let them catch you?”

You shook your head.

“See, that was a different situation.” Yeosang grabbed your face and forced you to look at him by the chin. “And I do not want you to get us into another one like that ever again… do we understand each other?”

Now in moments like this, even you felt the coldness of his demeanor and a shudder ran down your spine.

“Yes, I’m sorry!”

Yeosang nodded and his serious expression left as quickly as it had come. His hold softened, turning his hand and gently stroked the side of your face.

“Great! Now finish this up and then come join me in bed. It´s late already and listening to our new doll scream made me tired.” He smiled brightly and walked past you towards the door.

Yeosang was an enigma and sometimes his hot and cold behavior through you for a spin. Like right now. But you did as you were told. Cleaning away the blood splattered all over you, the floor and your different tools you had used on the poor, now dead girl held up by the chair.

Your lover, already ready to go to sleep looked like a teddy with his soft and fluffy pjs, hair falling over his eyes and pouting that you took too long for his taste. It threw you for a spin.

“I´m gonna- get ready…” you sighed, feeling his eyes follow you until the bathroom door closed behind you.

---------

It took everything in Yeosang not to let his eye twitch at your playing around with your food. This was not what he had taught you and quite frankly, it annoyed the fuck out of him that you seemed to be getting sloppy.

Almost bored by the sight of the night, he itched to get the spark of something new back. Something that brought back the thrill of killing. The adrenaline rush that made him feel alive again and gave him something to look forward to upon opening his eyes in the morning.

And try as he might, he couldn´t find that same spark anymore.

He watched your sleeping form by his side. Things had to change and there was only one thing he knew that could achieve that.  Now he just had to wait…

The next day both you and him got rid of the body a little outside of Seoul in a forest barely anyone ever went to. It was the ideal place for your little escapades to drown their evidence in a lake surrounded by trees.

His favorite knife that he liked to carry under his jacket safely hidden out of immediate sight as to not seem suspicious to any wandering hikers that could possibly encounter them.

The trash bag vanished in the deep and Yeosang turned to face you.

A year ago he had seen potential in those eyes of yours. Now he didn´t know what he saw anymore.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” you asked and whipped at your cheek.

No… he did know…

Reaching calmly underneath his jacket he whispered sickeningly sweet, “Run.”

Horrified you froze, not wanting to realize what his words meant. But knowing what laid under the padding of his jacket you knew exactly what was about to happen.

You spun around; dropping everything you were still holding and ran as fast as you could.

Stamina had never been your thing and the freezing winter air hurt your lungs as your legs threatened to give out underneath you but Yeosang was still hot on your heels and you were determined to win this race for, as ironic as this was, your life.

“Oh, come on baby, you know you can´t escaped.” Yeosang chuckled darkly from a few meters away. You couldn´t see him but you knew he was there. Panting you hid behind a thick tree to catch your breath, looking back to check constantly when you gasped in pain all of a sudden.

The knife, previously in Yeosang’s hand was sticking out of your side.

“I´m sorry it had to come to this, but things have changed…” he whispered into your ear before everything went dark.

[grimmweepers]

— ☆ 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒

alhaitham x ryu. this is obviously a selfship piece for ryuhaitham and it’s in first person. canon au. comfort. fluff. read here if you want more context on us. 0.7k wc

I sat curled on the couch with a blanket drawn tightly around me, staring at the modest decorations I’d strung up days ago when Alhaitham first left for Akademiya business. The lights, the strings of ribbon—they felt out of place here, like foreign embellishments in a world that had no meaning for them.

Christmas. Once upon a time, it had been everywhere—woven into every light, every note of music, every breath of winter air. It wasn’t as though I’d celebrated Christmas extravagantly but the absence of it here made the ache of displacement settle heavy in my chest. Even if I’d only half-participated in the holiday back then, its laughter and warmth had always been a comforting constant.

Teyvat moved without pause. The winds of Mondstadt whipped across snow-buried plains, Sumeru’s ever-shifting leaves played on the breeze and Liyue’s lanterns flickered against a fading sky. It was timeless and unchanging, as if the universe was indifferent to the celebration I longed for. But like the decorations I’d strung up, Christmas had no place here. And in that knowledge, my homesickness deepened, the distance between my old world and this one stretching farther.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and I startled, my gaze snapped to the figure entering. Alhaitham’s silhouette was outlined against the dim light of Teyvat’s evening and in his hand was a small neatly wrapped package, the paper a rich shade of crimson, tied with thin, silver silk that shimmered softly in the light.

“You’re back,” I mustered, rising slightly from my seat.

“I am,” His gaze swept over me, and a crease formed between his brows. “You look troubled.”

I offered a fragile smile, “Just thinking about… you know.” I trailed off, eyes drifting to the window where whimsy unbeknownst to me twinkled in the inky expanse above.

Without preamble, he extended the gift toward me. “Here.”

I blinked in surprise, looking from his hand to his face. “What’s this for?”

“Isn’t it customary to exchange gifts for… Christmas?”

The word fell from his lips tentatively, as though testing its weight. His eyes searched mine for any sign that he had mispronounced it. Then, a bittersweet ache unfurled in my chest.

“You… remembered?”

He remembered. Even in passing, even if I hadn’t explained it in detail, he had remembered. And more than that, he had acted on it.

“You mentioned it once,” he replied, the faintest hint of awkwardness colouring his tone. “I don’t fully understand the tradition, but it seemed important to you.” He paused, then added softly, “I thought it might remind you of home.”

My fingers brushed the wrapping paper, tracing its edges as a quiet laugh escaped me. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

“It matters to you. If it makes this place feel less foreign, then it’s no trouble at all.” He spoke as though his sentiment was the simplest truth in the world.

I bit my lip, his words filling the emptiness in my heart like the flickering flame of a candle in the dark. Slowly, I unwrapped the gift, the paper falling away to reveal a delicate glass ornament, its shape a perfect, crystalline star. It caught the lamplight, scattering prisms across the room like a reflection of something celestial—like fragments of a distant sky.

“It’s not much,” he almost sounded apologetic, “but stars seem to hold significance in your world’s imagery for this holiday.”

I stared down at the gift, my vision blurring as the sting of tears welled unexpectedly. The ornament trembled in my grasp, held close to my chest as the first drops slipped free, unstoppable. “Thank you,” I whispered, so softly it felt like the words might dissolve and me with it.

Watching me closely, a shadow of concern crossed his face, as though uncertain whether he had made me uncomfortable. “You’re crying…” His voice wavered, caught somewhere between a statement and a question.

I wiped at my tears, smiling through them. “They’re happy tears,” I told him. “I really needed this.”

Alhaitham sat beside me with the same calmness that defined his every action. The silence now brimmed with a bubbling warmth, deeply felt like a steadfast anchor.

“If you’d like,” he started, “then we’ll celebrate it. Here, every year. However you wish.”

His offer settled gently. “I would like that,” I said, already untethered.

Alhaitham nodded, brushing his hands against mine, the touch so tender it seemed to carry a promise with a three word phrase hanging in the air. As the glass star shimmered between us, the ache of homesickness began to ebb. In its place bloomed a sense of belonging.

A realisation that home was here. Home was now. And it had been all along.

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

divider: @/adornedwithlight

[vo-kopen]

You know what makes little sense? I love the idea of alternate universes, so I have a real fondness for the what if comics. I also have yet to read a single what if I liked, or even read a synopsis of one I liked. Same with the marvel tv show, I only watched the first three episodes of season one because I didn’t care about the other premises, and the first two did not click, while the third was good but was resolved poorly later in the season. (Where the frick did the Chitauri come from? Loki’s occupation force was made of Asgardians) There are a few from season two I meant to see, such as the 80s Avengers team, but I just haven’t been able to bring myself to watch it. And the what if novels that came out recently just don’t grab me.

The classic what if that came closest to clicking with me is the one where Steve Rogets was unfrozen decades later and in the meantime the fifties Cap pushed America further into authoritarianism. It’s well done and very relevant, but it’s a struggle to read because of how dark and “real” it is. It’s just “oof.”

It’s just funny that I like the genre and the concept of what if, but don’t actually like any of the specific ones. The recent mini series were particularly unappealing to me, the first was just “what if some decades old marvel arcs went in a darker direction,” so it’s not exactly relevant to me as a reader who started in the 2010s, and based on the issue I read the scenarios are just overwhelmingly grim. Meanwhile the second most recent mini was just “what if *popular marvel superhero* became Venom instead of Brock,” and the third is coming out now and my suspicions is it’s just “what if Galactus made *popular marvel superhero* his Herald.” Those last two minis feel especially lacking in depth. Their premise is just “what if big IP was a different IP.” And maybe I am unfair, I didn’t read either mini, but the core concept utterly failed to grab me.

Again, I think what ifs are interested, but like no canon ones interest me. Maybe it’s because I started out reading Avengers Academy, I now get drawn to “unimportant” characters, and they aren’t the ones who get to star in what ifs.

And then you get the Spiderverse and Venomverse anthologies which sometimes have actually compelling premises (makes sense, anthologies are always going to have some hits) but they only are setups to big events where the multiverses is threatened and those new versions of characters are almost guaranteed to get murdered. It’s like, I just want a fun little what if anthology where the fate of reality is not at stake, and instead the books discuss “what if this character’s life went differently?”

Like “what if Finesse, Mettle, and Haxmat did sacrifice themselves to take out two of the Worthy,” or “what if Laura and Jeanne’s falling out got more violent?” Again with the Avengers Academy

Anyway it’s just funny that I allegedly like what ifs, but I only like them in theory not in practice.

@thefingerfuckingfemalefury @nitpickrider @majingojira @akirakan how about y’all? Read any what ifs that clicked with you?