#i hate our awful memory

[je-doute-donc-je-suis]

Gods dammit, opened our plural notes, and there's someone who fronted and left short notes of thinking they were someone the 4th of this month. We have no memory of this

Looked into pluralkit and there's no front during those days, or a new member entry

They didn't dig down enough to identify and add themself to the app. And the notes are way too short and vague for us/me (whoever or whatever the fuck i am) to make that entry for them

We don't know who they are, and they don't know either. So they probably won't be able to read those and think "oh that was me" the next time they front

Hell, i could be them right now...

[starswallowingsea]

thinking of that post that's like being a picky eater as a kid just means i get to experience the joy of trying so many foods as an adult. i have some new foods planned for this week after i move including stir fried sweet and sour veggies + rice and omurice (really simple fried rice... may add veggies to it later if i like it but one step at a time). will let you guys know how it goes

[sunbloomdew]

i've been watching a 2h long video essay about mystic messenger as a,,,, "break" from writing (i am so distracted rn) and that got me thinking about my first experiences with games that have romance in them

i find it pretty funny that i picked sam and yoosung when i was playing stardew and mysme for the first time, and then NEVER played their routes again

[cesium-sheep]

we had this monstrous old piece of shit tv, like so old it was built into a wooden standalone cabinet, with cloth laid in over the speakers, and the remote went missing or broke when I was like 12 or 13 so we had to use the physical buttons on the set hidden behind a flip out panel, it would shut off at random and the image quality was bad and the sound quality was bad and my mother refused to get rid of it until it actually broke. because it wasn't actually broken, so why would she replace it? what the fuck was up with that anyway

I worked very hard to find images of it while writing this. it was a sylvania superset console tv, I've found dates ranging from 1978 to 1987 but I'm pretty sure it was this specific model with the column detailing, it was a hand-me-down that already looked hella outdated by 2000, and she insisted on using it until it bricked in like 2010 or something like that. possibly later. the audio was mono, but it was color.

the facing on the remote was metal. the little handles on the cabinet flapped around like real drawer pulls despite being purely decorative. the channel number would pop up on the square above the power button in red like an old digital clock. when it started to go kaput you'd have to get up and mash that little tuner button. I think there was some kind of door or flap that would cover the buttons when not in use.

[luveline]

omg would die for a concussion fic with remus <33

—your concussion causes moderate memory loss, and you forget some very important details about your relationship with Remus. fem, 1.3k

“This is nice.” 

You toy with the ring on Remus’ finger, turning it around and around and around. With your weight bearing down on his right arm and your hand secured around his left to stop him from moving, there isn’t much he can do besides say, “Yeah?” 

��I love when guys wear rings.” 

“I had a suspicion.” 

You wince as stars flash through your vision, pausing in your toying to press your face into his chest. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“I can see black and white spots.” 

“Oh, no,” he says sympathetically. “Close them, dovey. Take a breather.” 

The chair under you is uncomfortable, your back aches, your head twinges, but Remus is comfortable to lean again. He’s wearing one of his big hoodies, old enough to feel like brushed cotton under your cheek and against your nose, decals washed away. He steals his hand back to pat your shoulder, an image of patience. 

“Sorry. This isn’t a good second date.” 

Remus leans down to talk near your ear. “Dove,” he whispers, “this isn’t our second date, remember?” 

“It’s not?” 

“No, sweetheart. But that’s okay.” 

“You’re really handsome so I don’t want to mess it up.” 

“Mess what up, the date?” he asks. “You didn’t mess it up, it went very well. It was a year ago, but.” He smiles, his breath warming your face, his arm hot around you and securing you to his chest.

“A year ago?” 

“Yeah, a year ago. We went to winter wonderland and the bookshop by the train station and you wouldn’t let me buy you any books.” He laughs softly. “But I got you one eventually. A couple by now, at least.” 

“That’s nice.” 

“You’ve bought me a hundred more, it’s awful.” 

You raise your head to squint at him. “I have?”

“So many,” he whispers, dipping his chin down to kiss your nose, to your wide-eyed delight. “But you let me look after you in other ways.” 

“Let you?” 

“Yes, let me. It’s part of…” He cups your cheek quickly. “Sickness and health and everything. I have to keep you happy.” 

“Ah.” His ring is warm on your cheek. “Sickness and health, like we’re married.” 

“Something like that.” 

You straighten up as someone behind you coughs aggressively. A little further down a baby cries against a mother’s chest, and the TV plays a quiz show you’re starting to hate. Moving your head has black haunting the sides of your vision again, the light seeping in from the automatic doors too much to handle. 

“I’ve asked Sirius to bring you some sunglasses.” 

You turn around. “Sirius, that’s the one with the motorbike?” 

“Yeah. He should be quick. But maybe they’ll have called you in again by then and we can go home.” 

That’s right. You’ve been seen once by a doctor for triage, and sent back out again when they deemed you only mildly concussed, no bleeding on the brain, but an X-ray ordered for safety's sake anyways. That’s what you’re waiting for. Remus is waiting with you, because he’s a very nice man. 

“Sorry if I’m ruining your Saturday.” 

Remus’ hair falls from behind his ear as he lifts his head properly. “I think you might be having a worse day than me, so I’ll forgive you. I'm joking!” He tucks that stray strand behind his ear unsuccessfully. “You could never ruin my Saturday. I’d spend the entire bank holiday weekend in here with you, I only want them to look after you so I can finish the job.” 

Heat like a kiss on each cheek. You bring your hand to your nose, overwhelmed. “Really?” 

“We spend a lot of time together, sweetheart. I know you don’t remember right now, but I love you.” 

“You do?” 

“Don’t tell me you can’t feel that.” 

You look at him with the sunshine caressing the side of his face, his three mean scars and his scattered beauty spots. He has thick eyebrows, light brown eyes in the sun like honeyed tea, and a playful smile. More frown lines than smile lines, but the beginnings of crows feet speaks to some joy, at least. You bring your thumb up to a small wrinkle and stroke it, before tucking his hair behind his ear. It’s too short to stay put for long. 

“I love you,” you say surely. You do, even if you can’t remember more than your first date. 

He’s a good kisser, you remember. He’d pulled you back from your door and kissed you like you’d stolen the breath straight from his lungs. 

“I know.” He brings your hand from his ear to kiss. Gentle, he strokes your knuckles, his thumb turning a golden ring where it sits on your marriage finger. 

“It’s really like we’re married, we have matching rings,” you laugh. 

He holds his hand up between you. “We are married, lovely girl.” 

You steal your hand back. He waits without hurry, though a line of concern marks his brow. “Are we? When did we get married?” 

“Only a few days ago, but we’re married. This wasn’t on the honeymoon agenda.” 

He takes your hand with care and shows you the gold ring on your marriage finger to match his own, aligning your hands. The colour hadn’t seemed important a moment ago, nor the placement, but now you’re seeing them you realise you’d made a small misjudgement. It’s not like you’re married at all, you simply are. 

You frown. The way he’s holding your hand feels familiar, though the idea that you’re married is preposterous. You can’t remember any ceremony or reception, a proposal, nothing. There’s simply blank space there, which isn’t very nice. But… 

You’re not scared. You haven’t been worried once all day. 

“You have a concussion,” he says quietly, practised, like he’s said it to you before. “And it’s resulted in some amnesia, but it’s going to get better very soon.” 

“We’re definitely married?” 

“Unless you’ve changed your mind.” 

“I don’t want to change my mind.” You fluster quickly with what you’ve said, looking down at the hospital’s linoleum flooring. 

Remus takes your hand where it lays on your thigh and squeezes it. A thread of memory tugs at the touch; you remember this. His tender concern. His constant support. 

“Then you don’t have to. Whether you remember me or not, I’m here to look after you, okay? I’m right here.” 

You nod without looking up. His hand knows yours no matter what you remember, rubbing at all the best parts, holding with the perfect amount of pressure. 

“You okay?” 

“I guess our second date really did go well.” 

“Better than I could ever explain.” He tugs at your hand until you look at him, his head already ducked to keep you pinned by his gaze. “You’re like my shy girl all over again. I forgot how nervous you used to get.” 

You can see the Remus who became your husband and the one who scared butterflies into action every time he looked at you coalescing. “You’re really good-looking,” you explain. 

“And what do you think you are?” He rubs your hand. “You’re beautiful. Can I have a kiss, dove? Is that okay?” 

You squeeze your eyes closed. You’d been fighting stars in your eyes anyways.

When Remus kisses you, your body responds to his touch like it knows him. Your heart thuds against your ribs, your lips know exactly how to move and when he’s going to turn his head. Love for him shines through it. His love for you makes your chest hurt, his chaste kissing like a straight shot of oxytocin. All your worry saps away. 

“Feel any better?” he asks knowingly.

You remember enough about his teasing to withhold an answer. He kisses your cheek, his smile unmissable on your skin. 

[arthurmorganswh0re]

A Final Goodbye

about: arthur writes you one last letter tags: angst, mentions of death, illness, regrets an: another angsty lil piece i put together, i thought about what arthurs last words would be to his lover if he had to say goodbye

My girl,

Don't know what good writing this'll do, ain't like I expect you to read it. Ain't like I even have the courage to send it. But the words are sitting heavy in me, and I can't carry em no more. Maybe you'll find it someday, maybe you won't. Either way, it's yours.

I've been thinking about you more and more. Reckon that ain't too surprising. Dutch's hold on me don't compare to yours, yet I let you slip through my fingers like the damn fool I am. I haven't slept proper since the day you left, and maybe that's a sign of the regret I have. I miss you somethin' awful.

I think know you were right, about everything. About Dutch, about the gang. About me not being brave enough to let go of everything for my own sake. I wish I had listened to you, left when you told me to leave, maybe I wouldn't be dyin' like I am now.

I think back on the times we had, me and you, and I can only wonder what life would've been like if I had gone with you the day you left. I ain't mad, no, I could never hold it against you. You gave me something beautiful for as long as you could. It's my biggest regret, lettin' you go. I think it's what I deserve, truthfully. For all the blood on my hands. I always told you I wasn't a good man, but you believed I could be. Maybe we were both fools for that.

Death will come for me soon, and I'm scared. I don't think I've ever admitted that to anyone, not even a piece of paper. But I am. And I'll die wishin' I could see you again. As much as I want to be selfish, I know I ain't no good for you and that it's best if we stay our separate ways. I was never nothin' good to look at, but now I'm worse, and I'd hate for you to see me rottin'. I ain't a pretty sight.

I miss the way things used to be and I still live in them memories, they make all of this mess easier to put up with. I have to fight the urge to find you, know you're okay, even if it's in the arms of someone else, someone better than me. I hate even the thought, but it's what someone as good as you deserves.

Goddamn I miss you.

Forever yours,

Arthur M.

[wistfulnightingale]

Fearful Memories (Aziraphale KNOWS)

[Moments that Matter]

"Silly Aziraphale. Clueless Aziraphale.

So easily taken in. So devoted to Heaven he can't see how awful it really is.

Guess that's why he left Crowley..."

?????????

Look at this moment. If you believe that Aziraphale has dreamy thoughts of heaven, and is idealistic about how "right and good" it is, look very closely.

That's not just a startle response. It's exaggerated, extreme, terrified. Aziraphale's eyes become unfocused for a moment. He's literally swaying, disoriented and off-balance. When he refocuses, he's not reassured that it's "just Jim". Aziraphale isn't seeing "just Jim". He's seeing a threat to his life, to his existance. That's PTSD, folks.

That's trauma.

Aziraphale was deep in thought about heaven at the time of the God/Satan Job bet, 2500 BC. He was remembering how Gabriel and Michael couldn't begin to comprehend the love that Job and Sitis had for their children, that they wouldn't want them destroyed and replaced. Aziraphale had futilely tried to advocate and explain, about human parental love, and and also that 7 more births wouldn't be a positive thing for Sitis. During the interaction, our Angel was scoffed at, disbelieved, patronized, mocked, minimized, and accused of not trusting God's plans. It was controlling, debasing, and altogether toxic.

Interestingly, their casual violence of destroying and replacing Job's children was subtle. The archangels don't see themselves as violent. They're RIGHTEOUS. They're "the Good Guys." Destroy Job's livelihood and his family? God's will. Battle your fellow angels and cast them plunging down into pools of burning sulfur and darkness? That's Justice. Even those who weren't violent, and just challenged your authority by asking too many damn fool questions? ABSOLUTELY FINE. They deserve it.

Heaven carries a constant undertone of violence. The threat is everpresent. "We did it before -- we are capable of doing it again." And Aziraphale is constantly hypervigilant because of it.

Worst of all, some of them enjoy it...

Aziraphale doesn't forget. He copes. He masks. He gives performative compliance to survive. They watch. They listen. Aziraphale spouts off heavenly rhetoric to keep them at bay and to keep his beloved demon safe.

Crowley didn't forgive Gabriel for trying to destroy Aziraphale with hellfire. Why do we somehow assume that Azi will forgive heaven and the archangels, when it was Crowley they actually kidnapped and beat and cast into the fire? (I have serious questions about how Crowley came to be tied into that chair. When we see him examine his bonds, I suspect he just came back into consciousness.)

"Oh, but Crowley didn't tell him about it!"

It's very clear that he did, prior to the first episode of S2. Crowley states during their argument about Jim that this is the same heavenly boss that tried to cast Aziraphale into hellfire. It obviously wasn't news to Aziraphale -- he doesn't miss a beat. He's simply focused on protecting this lost helpless featherless bird that's also been victimized by heaven.

"Okay, but that stuff was all done by the archangels. Aziraphale still let himself get sweet-talked and flattered by the Metatron, because he still believes heaven and the Metatron are Good."

We know -- WE KNOW -- that Aziraphale will do anything to protect Crowley. We've seen it over and over.

And we also know -- we are clearly shown -- that the Metatron hates Crowley, and Aziraphale knows it. Our Angel sees the same look we see. He keeps walking, anxiously trying to lead the Metatron away from Crowley.

Remember, this is the same Metatron who broke the last remnants of Aziraphale's innocence in S1. The same Metatron who spoke so casually about how "a multi-nation nuclear exhange would be a nice start" to the War between Heaven and Hell. Who didn't give the slightest thought about all the lives on Earth.

Aziraphale remembers this too.

Aziraphale is not a fool. He's a survivor, and a Protector. He's the fecking ANGEL OF THE EASTERN GATE who risked damnation to give his Flaming Sword to protect a pregant couple from the wilderness, and LIED to the Supreme Archangel to save the lives of 3 children. He's the Principality who was willing to go up against a giant Hellhound unarmed, and held his restored Sword up against Satan himself, knowing full well it would be futile.

Aziraphale is not stupid. He's analytical, investigative. He makes connections, sees patterns. He studied and solved the mysteries of Agnes Nutter's prophesies, and he studied and researched and remembered to explore the mystery of what happened to Gabriel.

Aziraphale knows what heaven is like. Imagine the Courage it took to return there. He had a much bigger reason than being cajoled and flattered. He would never believe that he could rewrite heaven's rules and make it all better.

Aziraphale had a plan. A spontaneous plan, a crazy plan, a desperate plan? Absolutely.

But fooled by heaven? Silly you, if you were even thinking it.

*****

(Btw, I think Crowley was part of that desperate, chaotic plan, but that's all explained in my Chess Moves Theory set!)

*****

Thanks for being here, and for considering the eager and enthusiastic writings of a stalwart Aziraphale defender and a believer in the Ineffable Old Married Couple!

[livwritessometimes]

I Will Never Make You Regret This—Regret Us

: Part 18 (Lando's Version)

: All’s well that ends well to end up with you!

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: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

…

The night grew colder as Y/n stared out at the city. It had been minutes—hours, maybe. Time had lost its meaning for her these days. The cold reminded her of the last time she was here.

...

"Be my girlfriend," Lando repeated this time, looking her right in the eye.

"Are you serious?" Y/n questioned. If you had told her a month ago that the noisy neighbor from the floor above her, whom she hated with a passion, would be standing in front of her asking her to be his girlfriend, she would have laughed in your face.

"As serious as I'll ever be," Lando said, his eyes glistening with sincerity.

"Yes," Y/n whispered, as she leaned in to close the gap between them.

...

The memory left a bittersweet taste in her mouth. It felt strange to think about him again. It had been a while since she thought of him as anything but hurt and betrayal.

The cold air nipped at her skin, but she didn't feel anything. It was as if she were trapped in the ghost of their past—so much so that she didn't hear the soft creak of the door or the footsteps that approached the secluded area where she stood, the one that offered the best view of the city.

"Y/n!" Called out the voice Y/n had been dreading as much as she had been longing to hear.

She whipped around to find none other than the boy she loved—the one who broke her heart, "Lando!" She said.

Time had stopped for the two, and for a moment, neither of them knew what to do. The weight of everything left unsaid was suffocating the both of them.

It was Lando who broke the silence first, his voice softer than she remembered. "I didn't think you'd be here," He said.

"Yeah, someone once told me it's a nice place to go to when you need a breather," Y/n shrugged as she turned back to look over the city.

Lando was at a lose for words. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he couldn't figure out where to begin.

"I hate myself," said Lando. He continued, "I hate myself for ever agreeing to that stupid dare. I hate myself for continuing with it, knowing that I had started to fall for you. I hate myself for thinking that calling off the dare would make things better. More than that, I hate myself for breaking your heart."

Y/n felt tears streaming down her face. She couldn't turn around and face him just yet, knowing that if she did, she would break down even more.

"I know that nothing I say or do can erase what has happened between us, and I don't deserve your forgiveness," Lando said, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. "But I hope, someday, I can make things right between us," He finished.

"I've been thinking about this a lot...and I have looked at a few houses," Lando said.

Y/n felt her heart beat even faster in anticipation of what he was about to say.

"I am going to move out," Lando said. "Us living in the same apartment complex makes things even more difficult, and I've hurt you enough already. I don't want to cause any further pain beyond what I've already done," he continued.

Y/n felt torn; the weight of his words hung heavy in the air.

Taking her silence as an answer, Lando turned to make his way downstairs.

'I don't hate you," Said Y/n.

Lando stopped in his tracks, afraid that if he moved, he'd realize that he had just imagined this.

"In fact, somehow I can never bring myself to hate you," Y/n continued.

Lando's heart felt like it was about to combust—he definitely wasn't imagining this. Slowly turning around, he saw a teary-eyed Y/n looking back at him.

"What you did was an awful, awful thing to do, and I hate that because of it, I had to question the authenticity of everything that happened between us," Y/n said, wiping away the fresh tears that were falling.

"That being said...I don't want our story to end like this. I believe that there's more to our story, and I—I'm willing to take the risk, but I swear to god, Lando Norris, if you make me regret this, I will never ever forgive you. Ever. You hear me—" Y/n was cut off by Lando suddenly throwing himself at her.

"I promise I will never make you regret this—regret us," Lando said pulling her in tighter.

(3 months later)

…

Tags: @regalbanshee | @be-your-coffee-pot | @mrsbrxkkxr | @princessria127 | @moonraysandstars | @prettiest-at-the-party | @theblueblub | @magixpracticality | @slytherinholland | @overlyexcitedoutlaw | @marvel-at-stucky | @crumbssss | @a-beaverhausen | @felicityforyou | @gigigreens | @jas0nluvr | @khaylin27 | @imsiriuslyreal | @cwiphswmwasohmm | @wobblymug | @e-nonsense | @raizelchrysanderoctavius | @papaya-twinks | @vintagefucksstuff | @st4rg1rln | @redstappen | @iamred-iamyellow | @tashisgf | @ghost-of-student-sufferings | @saachiep81 | @lozzamez3 | @ravisinghs-wife | @elizamoe133 | @anthonylockwoodandco111 | @formulaal | @luvsforme | @annabellelee | @a-disturbing-self-reflection | @emryb | @grovelingmen | @illicit-affcirs | @iwilleatyourgod | @youre-on-your-ownkid | @originaldreamerdragon | @landorris | @mountvesuvu | @chezmardybum | @littlegrapejuice | @spitesfvl-blog | @juleshadalittlelamb | @vicurious28 | @phd-catstealer |

[mihii-i]

I need Jun-hee x fem! Reader like I need air...

So if it's okay with you, do you think you could write about the hide and seek game?

Instead of giving the knife to HIM she gives it to reader who she actually trusts. And reader targets HIM for making jun-hee's life miserable since he showed up.

Because reader will always be there for Jun-hee unlike HIM.

(And then this also changes the fate of our beloved hyun-ju)

Thank you so much! 💕

cuts and polished wounds.

Pairings: kim jun-hee x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, season 3 spoilers, wlw, aaaaa girls kissing oh no cry about it lil boys, i wrote this with romantic intentions lalalal yall r girlfriends but not explicitly stated lol, violence, blood, death, myunggi fucking dies yayyyy I always hated that bitch, my glorious queen hyunju lives!1!1!, alteration of storyline, lots of myunggi hate, myunggi fans leave, dialogue is from my memory so it’s not exact, I copy pasted the romanized version of the song don’t blame me if it looks bad sorry, not proofread.

A/N: I LOVE JUNHEE SM OH MY GOD MY SWEETHEARTTT her and hyunju deserved so much better…now playing — cursed by ari abdul. 🕯��

Dead.

You were utterly dead, fate sealed into the depths of your tomb. Sealed in a black box decorated in pink ribbon.

It was as if death was a gift granted unto everyone trapped in the twisted bounds of this game, rightfully so considering the harsh reality worse than the end of life they’d meet—would they have gone back.

Whirlwinds of your unending anxiety continued to bubble to the surface like a typhoon racking the back of your throat ran dry, sweaty hands clutching the box cradled in your grasp in its shine of cerulean reflecting the dim light. You weakly thumbed at the triangle, circle, and square embedded in a sort of plastic in the center of the blue lid, the damp slips of your thumb sliding off the varied material only to drag along the friction of the roughened surface.

Though your fear should be the first issue lingering in your mind, making your chest lurch uncomfortably enough to nauseate you from the fact that this would certainly be your end. It somehow still wasn’t. Your worry only shifted to someone you held dear to you, far more than your own life. The other girl whose name you’d branded into your heart, pledged your care to despite the short time you’d known her, yet still growing close as the fabric nuzzled shoulder to shoulder between you two in the sequence of these horrific games was the only stability you both had clung onto.

Your gaze immediately tore away from the box as you scanned the heaps of players crowded in the identical teal tracksuits, all bearing similar reactions to their role if they’d been assigned as a hider meant to be stabbed to death by the seekers clad in red. Irrelevant. You were only focused on finding Jun-hee in that mix of hysteria and bloodlust.

Nowhere in blue. That was a good sign for her.

Glancing over at the split of red players compiled together, examining their winged, colorful knives in pink and blue so intently with a sort of sick excitement almost made you crinkle your face up in disgust, head throbbing with the certainty of the truly awful beings that the game managed to lure in. Bastards filled with greed and hatred, willing to abandon any semblance of humanity for the sake of cash spilling into their hands as they’d lap away at their own selfish desires. It was clear they’d been waiting, almost eagerly to drive a knife into someone’s skull and delight in the spills of blood that poured out.

Yet you couldn’t complain, you weren’t any better were you? After all, you had ended up here with everyone else.

A familar streak of sandy blonde highlights at the tips down a dark gradient caught your eye in mere moments, accompanied by the metal of her eyebrow piercing. Your attention fixated on the figure that you sought to find in the unending crowd. Yup. She was a seeker. And thank god for that.

The red vest loosely draped over her torso washed you in a hollowing relief that jabbed at your fear side by side, caressing the unsteady thumps of your heart slamming against your dampened chest through the moistened tracksuit stuck to the cold droplets of your skin. Jun-hee managed to shoot a fleeting glance over at you, meeting your gaze with the solemn worries clouded within her own darkened pupils as she gripped her own box between her hands, bright in the opposing color meant to drive you to your end.

Even several feet away, those unspoken words screamed between the thick fog of palpable despair mellowing the air of the enclosure, the scent of sweat and blood failing to alleiviate the tension stirred by the evident stakes of the game. She simply snapped her eyes away from you, likely to avoid further hesitation in the requirements she was made to fulfill by the knife sitting between the velvety felt of the open box.

Nor could she bring herself to look at the key that resided in your own box, patterned in the same pink and blue with its sprouted wings as a grim reminder to the potential fate you were faced with.

Despite all the conflicting emotions clashing head on within you, sparking your restless nerves and adding to your shaky hands which you unsuccessfully tried to compose, there was one thing you were certain you’d take delight in. The sight of him in the distance, panicked with the key twirling between his fingertips as if it would scorch off his fingers.

The prospect of Lee Myung-gi’s death was oddly delighting to you. Especially after all he’d done to her. And having the audacity to come crawling back like a pathetic worm the second he remembers she exists? You’d make sure hell reserved a special spot for him.

The guard’s speaker like voice, breathy and muffled through the enclosed mask fit over their face bellowed throughout the room, catching every player’s attention in an almost robotic manner harmoniously.

“We will give you a chance to change your fate. If mutually agreed upon, you may switch roles before the game. Removing your vest or switching is prohibited once the game starts.”

With those words, swarms of what you could only describe as a stampede of people ran over to one another in a frenzy in jumbled words and pleas, shoving boxes into each other’s arms either mutually or desperately. Scrambling through the others, shouldering past the alternating flickers of red and blue, you remained focused on finding Jun-hee within the crowd, navigating the spot which you had seen her lined up with the other seekers.

Once again. His audacity never failed to baffle you.

You only kept your cold stare fixed on Myung-gi motioning before Jun-hee, gripping the key between his thumb and forefinger as he extended an arm toward her, his mouth moving in unintelligible speech to you off in the distance. Probably a ploy or guilt to get her to swap with him so he could flee from being struck down like the coward he was. The irony of his bargain occurred to you as an afterthought, for he certainly was great at hiding from his problems, so how come he wanted to be a seeker so bad when hiding was all he was good for?

He never truly cared for her. Words were nothing but that—just words alone. Jun-hee and her child given to her by him weren’t of concern until he remembered, it was simply an excuse to justify his oncoming greed. No better than any of the other money hungry pigs in this game, yet truly viewing the woman he claims he prioritized as nothing but a burden, extra baggage which was leverage for his money grabbing strategies.

Myung-gi was nothing but a plague to your beloved. A parasite that chased her down the halls of pity with that clobbered face bloomed in old purple over his eye. Making her life miserable for god knows how fucking long, especially taking into account that she was nearing her due date. Had he really be so awful he hadn’t even checked up on her in those nine months she suffered through the pregnancy?

“I know you won’t be able to do anything with the knife.”

“Don’t act like you know everything about me.”

“Maybe I don’t, but I know one thing. You can’t kill anyone.”

Myung-gi pursed his lips as Jun-hee wordlessly looked up at him, glancing down at the knife in her hand as he expectantly reached for it. Only for her to repel back away from his hand.

“I would kill everyone here if it meant leaving here with you and the money.”

Bullshit.

“To protect my baby I’d do anything too.”

Needless to say, you had to suppress the small smile that threatened to stretch at your lips as Myung-gi sighed in defeat, along with Jun-hee standing firm with the knife gripped in her hand as he walked away. For a moment, you swore he was sulking from his mind games and heartless promises no longer working on the girl he claimed to love more than anything else, curling his lips as his expression scrunched up in dismay.

Yet that momentary triumph died down not too long, clearly picking up on the subtle body language exhibited by Jun-hee as Myung-gi stormed away. Her nails subconsciously flicking at the rim of her threaded sleeves as she toyed with the cotton gradually spilling over in loose threads, alongside her free hand situated on the domed curve of her stomach. He was right about one thing. She’d do it for her baby, yet she couldn’t normally.

You could tell from afar. The partial regret mixed in with relief, glad that she didn’t give him the knife, yet contemplating her decision from his undeniable words. Regardless, you didn’t seek to switch roles, only to comfort her with each step closer you took to Jun-hee, before lowering yourself at the edge where she was stood, sitting down directly in front of her. Certainly, those conflicting emotions were in fact shared between you two, with Jun-hee experiencing the lapse in judgement of her recent decision before softening her gaze the moment it met yours.

“So, you didn’t give him the knife?” you questioned, earning a firm shake of the head from her as she quietly murmured a reply.

“I couldn’t. How could I trust him over a few words?”

“He did say he’d come find you, and swore on it.”

“(Name). I don’t want anything to do with him, he should’ve minded his own business.”

Her snappy reply caught you off guard, eyeing the metallic glint of the light bouncing off of the bright silver hue of the knife with nothing but uncertainty flaring in her eyes. However, her irritation didn’t last long as she took notice of the bright blue vest hung loosely over the rise of your chest as well, recalling the words that she couldn’t dare to utter from the tensed reveal of the roles and objectives of the game.

“…stay safe. Please.”

You manged a nod, albeit quite hesitantly as your fingers twitched around the grasp of the solid key, carved in the steeled shape of a triangle—to which she took notice of.

“Go switch with someone. I don’t want you to die like this.”

“With who..? Everyone either switched already, or refuses to swap with me. Rightfully so, I don’t know who would want to give up being a seeker.”

Especially considering the seekers had a higher chance of surviving in comparison to the hiders. You weren’t sure what the guards did, yet you could come to the conclusion that firing bullets into you was more merciful than some sadistic person slowly cutting you open and savoring every stab, seeking to taste the very liquid that seeped from the cuts and polished wounds on anyone’s body. No matter who it was or how vulnerable they were.

Suddenly, you were met with the hard leather of a red box pushed to your chest, head snapping up to look in awe at Jun-hee. Her face nearly deadpan, yet hand trembling as well as she handed the box to you, staring into your soul through the windows of your eyes as if she had placed her utmost trust in you. Adhered to you and entrusted you to keep any promise you’d make as you’d wield the knife to come to her aid. Rather than a quest for money, the newly presented knife in your hands sitting before you in the red box was a testament to the genuine love that you’d shared with her, a promise in itself to be there for her.

“Jun-hee...are you sure? It’ll be more dangerous for you..”

“I’m sure. I trust you.”

You swallowed back any doubts you could possibly have, resolute on her choice for the both of you as you draped the red vest over yourself. With Jun-hee following suit as she slipped the blue vest over herself, but not before being met with an abrupt hug of you throwing yourself at her. Arms coiled around her back as your nose dug into the warm crook of her neck, moistened skin to skin as your eyes squeezed shut, to which she reciprocated with equal sentiments.

Pulling back, your hands rested on her shoulders, swiftly shuffling up aimlessly to cup her face between your hands palming the flesh of her cheeks as you pressed a hurried, yet sweet kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll come find you after I get my kill. I promise.”

The guards began to call out to the crowd, signifying the start of the game as blues began to line up single file into the starry grounds swallowing them up back to hell. You could only watch as they disappeared one by one into the distance, keeping your eye on Jun-hee until she disappeared as well, pleading within as you’d sell your heart and mind for her safety.

Yet, your concern morphed back into something stronger, a fuel of raging fire that cursed every fiber of your being, rushed through your streams at the sight of Myung-gi marching along with the other blues. Your eyes were set on your target, knuckles tensing around the firm handle as your thumb pushed up against the wings of your knife, seeking your very own sadistic wants for one man in particular as you sought to have his blood splattered on the steel the span of a few minutes. The day to repent was here. Retribution wasn’t an option of respect and morality, it was a requirement to cast him to his shame.

Kkokkkok sumeora, meorikarak boilla.

Kkokkkok sumeora, otjaragi boilla.

—

Arrays of bright gold stars scatters over the midnight sky painted on the walls in its deep blue engulfing the room, streaks of blood dragged on the rugged dirt ground littered with footprints and soaked vermillion pools. You took it upon yourself to stay quick on your feet, wits focused on every detail and blue vest that swung by in the fleeting dash of fabric hovering through the resistant fans of their speed.

However, you paid no mind to the other blues who darted through the crammed halls snaked in its narrow structure, desperately prodding at the keyholes uselessly to get away. Or the pained screams of those being practically mauled violently by other reds. No. You were set on him. Circling his every move, catching sight of every little step he took and tracing his path like a hawk as you sought to find that specific sequence of numbers in white on the back of his clothing.

333.

Your knife was kept curled tight between your fingers, dust racking the off white of your shoes with each thundering step you took through the narrow halls, hands resting on the wall for added caution for if you caught him. You wouldn’t deny it though, Myung-gi was intelligent. He knew you were after him with an unstoppable thirst for blood, only to be quenched by guzzling down his own. The man sure wouldn’t let you kill him, and he’d have an eye on his back as well to look for any sign of you alongside other reds seeking to split open blues.

17 minutes.

Normally, you’d say it didn’t matter. You’d take all the time you need to kill him. And only him. But you had a promise to keep, one where you’d reside over the woman you loved be there for her to keep her safe unlike the one you were hunting. And you were willing to keep it no matter what, for you in turn were the woman who she trusted to protect her with the knife she had given you.

—

12 minutes.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.”

Myung-gi audibly cursed under his breath with each shallow breath expelled from his lungs in rushed sprints, sweaty palms stuck against the wall whenever he hid from you sprinting toward him as well. Hiding as if it would help him at all with the sparkling tip of your blade coming dangerously close to his throat with your periodic swings you sought to plunge into him. Not that you were unskilled, but rather he was quite agile, thin frame easily matching your own speed as he kept running away.

You were glad he was blue. He was doing what he knew best. Running away.

But he couldn’t for long.

After what seemed like an eternity of the cat and mouse chase, you finally loaded Myung-gi’s evident exhaustion to your arsenal, using every bit of strength you had left in your legs to push yourself forward, lunging toward him. Kicking back a cloud of dust, your fingers bunched up in the back of his head, squeezing a handful of his hair heaped between your fingers as you yanked back, earning an ear piercing bawl while he squirmed in your hold.

Myung-gi’s high pitched bellows echoing in the corridor amplified with each plunge of the knife you drove into his chest, crimson seeping out and absorbed by the blue of his vest as splatters of his blood adorned your blade, glistening in beautiful red drops leaking down whenever you’d slice and stab him. Though you didn’t want to drag it out for too long, you still had to look for Jun-hee.

Speaking of her, you had to let him know of his neglect atleast. Something he can’t just fix with a word or two.

You quickly lodged the entire blade to sink down into his throat, twisting into the jugular as Myung-gi’s screams died down, eyes red and teary as he gasped for air while staring dead at you.

“…I’d do anything for Jun-hee. Unlike you. The recruiter said you’d pay with your body back at the subway, or did you forget?”

There was no response.

“Player 333 eliminated.”

“Player XXX, pass.”

—

You nearly jumped as you swung open the door, letting out a long held sigh of relief as you noticed Jun-hee sitting in the corner of the room safely. Added with a new person cradled in her arms as well, while you recognized Hyun-ju and Geum-ja settled at her side while she held her newborn. She must’ve given birth not too long ago, which probably explains the thing you heard earlier being akin to a baby’s cry. Good to know you weren’t hallucinating.

Hyun-ju was clearly ready to break your bones if you tried anything, judging from the sight of your red vest and knife, though she eased herself a bit when she noticed Jun-hee’s small smile stretching her lips as you cautiously approached her. Shutting the door behind you with a thud, you knelt beside her, transfixed on the new life hemmed in her grasp in the tracksuit jacket as you shifted closer.

And there you simply resided, in near silence as your cheek rested against her shoulder, with the other two—well, three. Knife kept at your side, ready at any moment until the end of this game.

You kept your promise.

Though that was expected, wasn’t it?

She meant everything to you.

Heart, mind, soul, and body.

A/N: I’m gonna be real I had no clue how to end this fic and it’s like 3 am lmao BUT I LOWKEY LIKE THIS ONE YAYYY anyway they’re all alive and having dinner together guys it’s canon i was hyunju’s earring and junhee’s eyebrow piercing

why does she look exactly like this cat helo

[nanamisbbygirl]

—☆ friends with benefits!

chapter 6. what are we?

paring: geto suguru x reader

genre: college au, drama, smut with plot

summary: a pact of pleasure between friends runs the risk of ruining everything. passionate flames burn the hardest. you and geto care about each other, but what happens when sex gets tangled with friendship?

cw: mentions of getting drunk, angst, toxic-ish dynamics

prev. < masterlist > next

Two weeks later 

Midterms had finally passed, although you barely survived them, especially with all that had happened. You were under so much pressure, with studying mixed and dealing with the rift between your friends– it seemed as though you were trapped in a state of limbo. 

Only pieces of that night survived in your memory from that night when Gojo and Geto got into their fight. The details were hazy in your mind: it was a blur of bruises and hateful curses. You had gone home in a cab, head spinning thinking about the situation you found yourself in. All you knew for sure was that after that night things had gone from bad to awful. No one was speaking to each other– with the expectation of Shoko– and none of you wanted to be the first one to try to bridge the gap. In all honesty, you didn’t think that the silence would go on for as long as it did. 

“Alright,” Shoko huffed, pushing her chair away from her desk. She had her phone in hand as she turned to look at you as you closed the book you were reading. “Do you know what the fuck is going on between Satoru and Suguru?” 

Her expression narrowed as you felt yourself becoming tense. You didn’t know what the right thing to say was. Come clean? Lie? You could’ve sworn you felt a bead of sweat roll down your forehead, nervous with her body language. 

“What do you mean?” You tried playing dumb, but Shoko only rolled her eyes. 

“I can tell when you’re lying, y’know?” She paused, “ever since reading week something’s up. I know you know something.” 

Pressing your lips together, a rush of memories rolled back into your mind, making you cringe. Shoko had the right to know– any attempts at keeping the drama under wraps was clearly a lost cause. 

“They got into a fight.” You said plainly. 

“Like, a physical one? Or like a cat fight?” She questioned. 

“Um,” they’re fighting over me, actually. I Yoko Onoed our friend group, is what you thought about saying. “A little bit of both.” 

“Good grief,” she groaned, “I swear to god boys are so dramatic. Who let them think they’re the emotionally stable ones.” 

For a moment, she looked at her phone before asking another, very crucial question: “what the hell was their fight even about? What was worth it to throw their whole friendship aside?” 

You were silent again. Gulping, you tried to awkwardly smile. Little did she know. It was ironic. You could picture her reaction if you told her. The ghastly expression on her face, the way her eyes would widen in fear and disbelief. Or would she laugh about it? Think you’re joking at first? It was hard to tell sometimes. 

“Sho..” Your voice trailed off, “don’t hate me for what I’m about to say…” 

“Oh god,” she huffed. “Don’t tell me you– oh my god! Which one of them did you sleep with?” 

Wincing at her harsh words, you realized it was now or never. 

“Su.” You finally admit. Shoko let out a loud, obnoxious groan in which you couldn’t tell if her tone was serious or not. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose, “please tell me it only happened once. That it was a drunken mistake. Please for the love of god, tell me you used protection.” 

“Duh, of course we did.” You briefly ignore her first question. “But it wasn’t just a one time thing...We've been doing the whole friends with benefits shtick. And well, we’re not anymore. I think Satoru had a crush on me too– I don’t know. They were arguing in front of me, hitting each other. I didn’t know what to do, what to say to them.” 

“But you don’t like Satoru back. Do you?” You felt your lip trembling. There was a crucial piece of information even you were too ashamed to admit to your best friend. 

“No, I don’t. I…” You couldn’t finish your sentence. You thought of Suguru– of all those nights you spent together, and of the night where he tried to mend the gap that had been created between you. You blamed the alcohol for your lack of recollection, remembering only a fraction of what had really happened. The night was filled with gaps, making you unsure about everything that really happened, even the parts of that evening that you didn’t want to accept. 

When you hopped into the cab, your body was on autopilot, as if you were chasing a ghost. Your chapped lips parted, speaking an address you would have never thought of going to. Suguru’s house. Your heart raced as the car swerved through the streets, pulling up to the home where it all seemed to have started. 

You didn’t even know if he’d be home yet. You had seen him storm off, but you didn’t know where he was going– too cowardly to chase after him in the moment. You felt stupid for even being there, after the way he yelled at you, showing his vicious teeth once again. Yet, there was still that way he looked over at you when Satoru punched him square in the jaw. There was something there, something you could explain to yourself. Something that made your heart crawl up your throat. 

Maybe that was why you stood at his door, cringing as your finger lingered over the doorbell. Maybe that’s why when he answered the door, an ice pack pressed to his face, his tired eyes gazed into yours the same way they did at the bar. 

“You’re here.” He had said in disbelief. You nodded, slipping past the threshold. 

“I figured we weren’t done talking.” His eyes widen, leading you to the kitchen, where he swapped out the ice pack for a different, colder one. Without speaking, you took it from his grasp, placing it where he’d be hit. “This is all my fault.” 

“No,” he breathed out. “It’s mine. I shouldn’t have come.” 

“Your lip’s cracked, y’know? It’s bleeding bad.” The sight distracted you from what he said. 

“Shit, it musta opened up again.” You heard him say as you searched for some kind of napkin to press down on it. When you snapped your head back to look at him, it hadn’t dawned on you just how close you were standing. 

Holding it against his lip, you couldn’t stand the uncomfortable quietness. It was blatantly obvious that you both needed to confess something, yet neither one of you wanted to break the silence. 

“Does it hurt?” You asked, albeit the question seemed a bit redundant. Of course there would be some discomfort from his injuries, but you didn’t know what else to ask. 

Even if it was a stupid question, it elicited a soft chuckle from him, lightening the mood ever so slightly. 

“Nothing some alcohol can’t fix.” He removed himself from your touch, looking under the sink for a bottle. He pulled out one that was half full, twisting off the cap, taking a quick swing of it. You wondered at the time if he was doing that to numb the pain, or to build up some confidence. 

“Want some?” He questioned, holding the bottle out in front of him. Without thinking, you accepted it from him, titling your head back, taking what was probably a shot's worth. 

There was another round of silence, and it was as if the world was about to collapse. You thought back to the past couple of months and compared it to the situation you found yourself in at the moment. Geto drank more. You stood, leaning against the counter observing him. 

“You were right.” He said, looking down at his feet. “I was a dickhead.” 

You would’ve never thought you would hear him say those words, to admit defeat. It was an apology, in some ways, but you weren’t sure if you could accept it. You took the bottle back, drinking again, hoping it would ease your mind and allow your tongue to speak more freely. 

“I know.” You stopped, “you really hurt me.” 

“I know.” He repeated. You didn’t realize how small both your voices sounded in the emptiness of his kitchen. Geto stole the bottle back, continuing the game of cat-and-mouse that you seemed to be playing. His lips touched the rim, swirling more alcohol in his mouth. “I didn’t mean it.” 

“Then why did you act that way?” 

“It’s not that easy to explain.” 

“Try.” 

“I can’t.” 

“Am I really that hard to talk to?” Your tone was half-teasing. For a split second you were still friends, with witty little banter, smiling at one another. But, you quickly remembered where you were, and who was standing in front of you. 

“I shouldn’t have slept with you.” Geto explains after taking another drink. You feel your heart stinging, reaching again for the bottle to drink. Now you were the one who needed to suppress pain. You were trying to think of how to reply, but it was clear the black haired boy wasn’t done speaking. “Not that I didn’t enjoy it– fuck, it’s the opposite– I just- I just want to be with you like how it was before.” 

You gulped, meeting his eyes for a brief second. “Why can’t we have both?” 

“I’m not good for you. I’ve already hurt you so bad. When people get close to me things never end well. Shit, even me ‘n Satoru.” His breath was shaky, “I would rather just be your friend than risk losing you completely. I need you in my life, but it’s not what I deserve.” 

Even though you could see his lips moving, it was as if the sound had been muted. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, all you could think about was him. His heart. His body. All of it flashing through your mind, like some fantasy montage. The only sound that was ringing in your ear was the beating of your heart. So maybe it was the alcohol that was blurring your judgement, or maybe it was the close proximity that you were standing in, but the last thing you remember from that night was when you pressed your lips against his. 

The next thing you knew, you woke up in his bed, wearing one of his t-shirts, your jeans folded on his chair. Suguru was sleeping next to you. Shirtless. You were pressed against his side, one arm flung over his chest, grazing over his muscles. His hair loosely draped over the pillow, eyes lightly closed. He looked peaceful at first, until you noticed the bruising on his body. You wondered if the one that sat on his neck was from the fight, or if it was something that you had caused. 

Your eyes widened, unsure about what had happened. It made your stomach swirl. Your head ached. Did you sleep with him again? What did he tell you last night to get you so vulnerable? Had you forgiven him so quickly? Did he even apologize? 

Just like that, you disappeared just as sneakily as you had entered, putting on your clothes without bothering to wake him. You hadn’t spoken to one another since then. You were too scared to confront him again, to ask the tell tale question of: what are we? 

“Do you love him?” Shoko’s voice snapped you back into reality. “Suguru, I mean.” 

You stared into her eyes, she was so clueless on everything that had happened, how were you supposed to explain how your heart felt? Was it love? Could it even be love? You couldn’t even remember what he said to you that night. 

“I’m not sure.” You start, bringing your knees into your chest, eyes getting glassy. “I want to love him, but I don’t know if I can– if I can fall for someone who doesn’t like me back.” 

Shoko’s gaze softened, plopping herself down next to you, placing a hand gently on your back, trying to console you. She wasn’t always the best at comforting, but she tried her best. 

“How do you know he doesn’t like you? I mean, you’ve been friends for so long and you clearly have sexual chemistry. That’s all a relationship is. You have the foundation for it. Maybe you should talk to him again. Or maybe I can talk to him for you?” She offered. 

You closed your eyes, letting out a little sigh. “Have you met Suguru? He doesn’t really wear his heart on his sleeve. Last time we talked… Well let’s just say some words were exchanged.” 

“It couldn’t have been that bad.” Shoko insists, “c’mon it’s almost halloweekend, I need my friends back.” 

She pouts slightly, poking your arm, “plus, I don’t want to see you sad, especially over Suguru. He’s a sap deep down, he’s just emotionally repressed. I promise, though, it won’t be as bad as you think.” 

You take in a deep breath, “I haven’t spoken to him in two weeks. What if he hates me?” 

“I doubt it.” Shoko explained, “I was talking to him last week and he was asking about you. In hindsight, I should’ve realized that was odd. But please, he doesn’t hate you. I think he’s just as nervous as you are.” 

With a shaky hand, you reach to wipe away a tear that left your eye. You were in between two difficult decisions. On one hand, you were mad at him. Angry at him for playing your heartstrings as if it were an out of tune guitar. But at the same time, you didn’t want to hate him forever. You wanted things to go back to how things were. 

“He told me he regretted sleeping with me, though. He said he wanted to go back to being just friends.” 

“Jeez, why didn’t you start with that,” Shoko says, half jokingly, judging you softly, “I’m over here spewing shit advice then.” 

She goes quiet for a second, remembering the seriousness of the situation. Her teeth graze her bottom lip as she’s stuck in her own thoughts, trying to conjure up some kind of guidance. 

“I think he’s scared.” She states. “Scared to let anyone in. Think about it, all the girls he’s hooked up with, it’s like he’s trying to fill some kinda void, y’know. He wants to be close, but it’s like there’s a barrier.” 

“Yeah,” you nod, thinking back to what he told you then. If that was true, if that was how Suguru felt, you weren’t sure what the right choice was. Let him in at the chance of getting hurt, or keep him out for good. 

“You just have to break the barrier.” She perks up at the idea. 

“Easier said than done, though.” You sigh, “besides, it’s going to take more than me and Su making up to fix our group. There’s Satoru too.” 

“Don’t worry about Satoru,” Shoko waved her hand. “I’ll deal with him. Just focus on your relationship. Trust me. I think if you actually talk to him everything will sort itself out.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I'm certain. You trust me, dontcha?” She grins and you nod again. “Good! It’s happening tonight then! Go talk to him right now.” 

“What? No! I can’t! Look at how I’m dressed– nonono” you whined as Shoko pulled you off the bed, forcing a sweater over you. 

“Yes you are! I won’t let you stay here until you’ve made up.” She smirks, “and don’t worry about what you’re wearing, he’s seen you naked hasn’t he? EW I’m gonna vomit just thinking about it!” 

Shoko’s laugh is infectious, and has its effect on you as she pushes you out of your shared dorm room. Before she shut the door she yelled something about protection, making you flustered, thinking about how everyone on your floor probably heard it. 

Although, at the slamming sound, you were forced to face the fact that you were walking towards his dorm. Going down the stairs, walking along campus to his building. It seemed more daunting now, the building looking down at you ferociously. Each window was like a different eye, staring down at you like you were a tiny inconvenience. Gulping, you knew Shoko wouldn’t let you back in unless you talked to him. 

So there you were, knocking at his door, just like you had done two weeks ago, just like you had done anytime you were wanting to hook up. Obviously this was not the same as all those other times. There was something terrifying about doing it now, something too vulnerable. 

When the door swung open, you were met with his chest first, as he wore his typical, loose, black sweater. You let your view trail up to get a good look at his face, taking in the way he wore his hair up, his eyes wide at the fact you were standing in front of him. It was almost as if he’d seen a poltergeist. 

Your heart was racing a million miles per hour. You were ready to open your mouth to speak, when something else caught your attention. Or someone else. 

In an instant, your heart went from overheating to stopping completely. You were sick to your stomach seeing another girl sitting on his bed, laying on her back, wearing nothing but some skimpy tank top and short shorts. Clearly you were interrupting something. 

“Who’s at the door, Su?” She asked, making your blood boil. 

Geto didn’t have a chance to respond, being met by a cold slap. 

Your palm stung. You slapped him. It was hard to believe that you had done it. He looked back at you, slightly shocked, rubbing against the red spot you left. You knew you hadn’t really hurt him, at least not physically. 

Tears whelmed in your eyes, muttering under your breath: “God I’m so stupid.” 

You turned to run away, walking as quickly as you could without stumbling over. You heard him shuffling behind you, like he was trying to catch up with you. 

“Please, please wait!” His voice was shaky too, lined with regret. “Please it’s-it’s not what it looks like.” 

You didn’t get him the chance to explain himself, too busy with running back to your room. 

What hurt most was that in that moment, you finally realized how much you loved him. That the thought of him with someone else was enough to send you spiralling. The worst part about it, though, was that he didn’t seem to feel the same way about you in return. 

taglist: @bunnygorex @iwas-baby @coffee-and-geto @i2s2m @zeunys @murasakiyams @sukunasbigtiddiewifey @izluvsyou @goonforgeto @multistan-247 @chosoclub @idyllicsam @0tsukie @suckkuna @loverzxi @lilbxtchsyndrome @blombat @ll0rona @astrokenny @izluvsyou @saint-boudica @cutehobii @shadyd3ar @getofanclub @suguruswifett @rryujn @kenmacantakemeaway @keiva1000 @reader2004 @hearts-for-asa @siennadoodles @se-phi-roth @cherryredkissez @whimsicalwriting @chewiebee @sugurunugget @bunbun444 [closed]

© all work belongs to nanamisbbygirl on tumblr, please do not plagiarize, repost or translate anywhere

[sxhyunstoes]

Muse

tripleS Xinyu x Male Reader

tags: Obsession, NSFW, Blood, Gore (descriptions of mutilation), smut, fluff wc: 4.3k A/n: I've had this one in the tank for a while, at first it didn't have any smut but I decided that since it's already got that 'NSFW' tag, might as well put smut in it. Anyways enjoy!

================================================

The city's pulse throbbed beneath its skin of concrete and neon. Somewhere amid the clang of trains and the cry of sirens, two figures ran,not away from justice, but toward each other.

“Come on, Xinyu,faster!” Y/n shouted over his shoulder, feet pounding pavement slick with rain. “Use those long legs God gave you!”

“You think I’m not trying?!” Xinyu snapped back, panting.

Their laughter mingled with their panic as they dodged trash bins, vaulted fences, and dove through alleys swallowed in shadow. Every part of the city was loud,but inside their shared adrenaline, they heard only each other’s breathing, the pounding of their own hearts.

They ducked into a half-collapsed building, prying the rusted door open just in time. Inside: silence. Dust. Safety.

Y/n collapsed to the floor, laughing between gasps. Xinyu stared at him, dumbfounded, until her fear broke into a giggle.

“That–” Y/n wheezed, “that was the most fun I’ve had in months.”

“We just outran the cops!”

Xinyu leaned against a wall, chest heaving, still catching her breath. Then her face twisted with realization.

“Our art supplies,we left them at the warehouse. What if the cops trace us through the prints?”

Y/n waved a hand. “Relax. I texted noona the second I saw the blue lights. She’s cleaning it all up.”

“Yooyeon-unnie knows?”

“Oh, yeah. She taught me everything.”

Xinyu's brows furrowed, something between awe and confusion flickering in her eyes. She thought they were alone in this.

She didn’t say anything,just grabbed his hoodie and pulled him into a kiss.

It was not tender. It was frantic, desperate,tongues, teeth, spit. No restraint. No fear.

When they finally parted, foreheads resting together, she whispered, “That was the most fun I’ve had.”

They both laughed again.

Then Y/n’s phone buzzed. He checked the message, grinning.

“Noona says it’s done. She moved everything to an abandoned shipyard.”

He stood, brushing dirt from his pants, then held out a hand. Xinyu reached up. He kissed her fingers before pulling her up.

Hand in hand, they disappeared into the streets again.

-

Zhou Xinyu had always been an observer. Not out of choice, but necessity.

New city. New school. Same silence. She floated through crowded corridors like a shadow, unnoticed, unnamed. Her sanctuary was the sketchbook tucked under her arm,always half-full of faces she could never quite speak to.

She drew what she saw: fleeting expressions, tired eyes, crooked smiles. She had mastered people from afar. But she had never been seen,truly seen,until him.

Y/n sat two desks away. Slouched posture, bangs too long, sleeves always smudged with charcoal. He didn’t talk to anyone. He didn’t need to. His hands moved across the page like he was sculpting something only he could see.

One day, he handed her a folded piece of paper. Wordless. She opened it,and there she was.

Her face. Drawn from memory, caught mid-thought, eyes dreamy and unsure. She looked up at him, stunned.

He just smiled.

That was the beginning.

It started with sketchbooks open beside each other on the school rooftop. Then lunches, shared from the same thermos. Banter in hushed tones during free period. The silence between them grew comfortable, warm.

Then she showed him the painting she’d been pouring herself into, a woman with flowing hair standing in a storm, fragile but unbroken.

He stared at it for so long, she feared he hated it.

Then he kissed her.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t timid either. It was the kind of kiss that slowly unspooled the tension in her spine and replaced it with heat. One moment they were standing side by side, her heart pounding in her ears from the vulnerability of showing him her painting, and the next, he was in front of her.

His hands found her cheeks, warm and trembling slightly, as if asking permission. She blinked, lips parted in surprise. Her breath caught.

Then his mouth met hers again.

It was soft at first, testing, like a question he already knew the answer to. His lips were warm and tasted faintly of green tea and ink. She inhaled sharply, and her hands lifted, uncertain at first, then stronger,fingers curling into his shirt.

The world didn’t blur or spin. It sharpened. She felt everything: the brush of his thumb on her jaw, the way his breath stuttered, the silence between kisses where they simply looked at each other with something like awe.

When he kissed her again, it deepened. Less unsure. More certain. It was the kind of kiss that said, I’ve been waiting to do this since the day I saw you.

She made a small sound into his mouth and felt his arms slide around her waist, grounding her, pulling her against him. The painting behind them stood forgotten, a witness to the quiet combustion between them.

Her heart ached with how badly she wanted this. Wanted him.

They finally pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed.

His voice was soft and low: “Why do you think I drew you that day?”

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

She just leaned into him, feeling his arms wrap around her waist, the smell of turpentine and graphite still clinging to his clothes.

They were inseparable after that. Not loud or flashy. But tethered by something invisible and intimate.

He called her Penelope, a nickname that made her heart stutter every time. She called him Odysseus.

They exchanged drawings like love letters. Little notes in the margins. Hands brushing while reaching for the same pencil.

“You make me want to draw forever,” he told her once, voice low as they lay shoulder to shoulder on the rooftop.

“You make me feel seen,” she whispered back.

But love, for them, was never simple. It was an obsession, a reflection. A mirror into something darker.

They didn’t fall in love.

They descended.

Together.

Xinyu remembered the first time she saw his room.

It was smaller than she expected. Cozy, almost. The walls were a soft gray, the window barely letting in enough light to cut through the stale air. A large, blank canvas leaned against one wall like it had been waiting for her to arrive.

She stepped in hesitantly, taking everything in,the scattered pencils, half-used tubes of oil paint, a row of dried-up brushes in a cracked ceramic mug. The air smelled of turpentine and something sweetly metallic.

Y/n watched her from the doorway, nervous.

"It’s not much," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. "But it’s... mine."

She turned to him and smiled. "It’s you."

That night, they lay tangled together beneath his blanket on the small mattress in the corner, the light from her laptop casting flickers on the ceiling as a movie played,ignored. The dumplings he’d microwaved were slightly overcooked, but she ate them anyway, teasing him for forgetting the dipping sauce.

"I panicked," he’d said, laughing, lying on his side to face her. His fingers traced lazy circles on her wrist as her head rested against his shoulder.

He looked at her with something unnameable. Not just affection,something heavier, something like devotion or dread. She touched his face gently and said nothing more.

She didn’t realize then that she was falling not just in love, but into something deeper, darker, and irreversible.

It was the next day that he showed her the painting.

It leaned against the wall when she entered,unfinished, almost alive. The woman’s mouth stretched open in a silent scream, her eyes hollowed out in shadow. Red tears streamed down her face in jagged streaks, black ink congealing in the sockets.

Xinyu froze.

She didn’t speak at first. Her breath was shallow, her heart thundering.

Y/n stood beside her, arms crossed, watching her face. His voice trembled. "It’s not... too much, is it? I don’t know why I painted it. I just,had to."

She turned to him slowly. Her stomach was twisted into knots.

But she saw the vulnerability in his eyes. The desperate need for approval. For understanding.

So she said, "It’s brilliant."

His lips parted. His eyes welled.

And then, without warning, he burst into tears.

Xinyu rushed to him, wrapping her arms around his shaking form. He buried his face in her shoulder, sobbing quietly.

Later, when he finally calmed down and reached for her hand, she pretended not to feel the tremble in his fingers.

She held him tighter instead.

One day, he brought her to the warehouse.

The walk there had been quiet, hands intertwined, the city buzzing in the distance like an irrelevant whisper. Xinyu thought maybe he was just showing her another hideaway. Another piece of him.

But when he opened the door, her blood turned cold.

Bodies.

Hanging from steel hooks. Bleeding. Eyeless. Their skin pale and waxy, like mannequins drained of purpose. The metallic scent was thick,rust and rot, the copper tang of blood hanging in the air.

She stumbled back a step, her breath caught in her throat. "Y/n..."

He stood beside her calmly, almost serenely. His expression wasn’t crazed. It was quiet. Proud.

He looked at her, hopeful. "What do you think?"

She stared at him, horrified. “These are people.”

“They were,” he said softly, “before they became part of something greater.”

Xinyu’s hands began to shake. Her vision blurred,not from tears, but from sheer sensory overload. The bodies. The blood. The canvases leaning against the far wall, painted in broad, crimson strokes.

“I-I need time,” she whispered, stepping away. Her voice cracked. “Please. I need to think.”

Y/n didn’t stop her. His gaze didn’t waver.

“I understand,” he said. But then his voice followed her, softer, trembling now. “I love you and I’d never hurt you, Xinyu."

She paused at the doorway. Her fingers gripped the frame like it might anchor her to reality. She didn’t look back.

The next few days were silent chaos.

She tried to paint, but her brush wouldn’t move. Tried to think, but her thoughts scattered. Tried to sleep, but her dreams were soaked in red.

And yet,she missed him.

His voice. His hands. The way he looked at her like she was the only thing that made sense in his world.

She remembered how carefully he kissed her. How he shook when she first called him by name. How even when surrounded by horror, he still said he loved her with the softness of a boy, not a monster.

She hated herself for it.

But she loved him more.

When she returned to the warehouse, her heart was a battlefield.

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, paintbrush in hand, but doing nothing with it. Just staring. When he saw her, his whole body tensed.

“Xinyu...”

She crossed the space between them and knelt, cupping his face in her hands.

“I love you,” she said, firm, breathless. “I’ll stay. No matter what.”

He broke.

Tears spilled down his cheeks, silent and desperate. He wrapped his arms around her and held her like she might disappear again.

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice hoarse.

She pressed her forehead to his. “I can’t explain it. But I need you. And I want this. All of it.”

He kissed her with everything he had,salt and heat and paint and tears.

When he pulled back, he reached for something behind him.

A brush.

Dripping red.

He extended it to her like an offering.

“Want to paint with me again?”

She looked down at the brush. Then into his eyes.

And slowly, deliberately, she took it.

Y/n didn’t move right away. He just watched her, his pupils blown wide, lips slightly parted. The brush trembled in her grip,not from fear, but from the weight of what it meant.

He stepped forward.

He kissed her.

Hard. Desperate. With the weight of blood and grief and unbearable longing.

She gasped into it, fingers clenching the brush like a weapon until it fell from her hand and clattered to the floor. His hands framed her face, then slid down her back, gripping her hips and pulling her against him. Their bodies met with bruising intensity. There was no hesitation now.

Y/n broke the kiss only to mutter, voice rough and low, "Tell me to stop."

She didn’t. She tugged his shirt over his head instead.

His mouth found her neck, trailing bites and kisses as she leaned against the nearest table. Their feet stumbled over canvas rolls and stained tarps. Xinyu moaned when he pushed up her shirt and kissed just beneath her ribs, where a small paint smear still clung to her skin.

Their clothes came off in clumsy, hurried movements,his pants unzipped with shaking hands, her skirt shoved up her thighs. When he entered her, it wasn’t gentle. It was raw. Real. Like he needed to mark her in ways even paint couldn’t.

She clung to him, her nails digging crescent moons into his back. Each thrust was a confession. Each gasp, a vow.

“I thought I lost you,” he groaned into her shoulder.

“You didn’t,” she panted. “I’m yours. I’m always yours.”

Their bodies moved like brushstrokes,urgent, unrelenting. His name spilled from her lips like prayer. When she came, it was with a cry muffled against his neck, her entire body arching.

He followed seconds later, collapsing into her with a hoarse sound of surrender.

They lay there for a long moment, tangled in warmth and breath and sweat, the warehouse quiet around them.

Only after a few minutes did he pull back to kiss her forehead.

"You smell like iron," he whispered.

She smiled, dazed. "So do you."

And beneath the flickering light, surrounded by jugs of blood and unfinished paintings, they held each other.

They had made love the only way they knew how.

Rough. Tender.

Unforgiving.

And sacred.

But it didn’t end with the heat of their bodies colliding in desperation. When their breaths slowed, when the adrenaline had softened into something warmer, Y/n guided her gently to the mattress tucked in the far corner of the warehouse,their makeshift sanctuary amid blood and ruin.

He pulled a clean cloth from the supply drawer and wiped her down with slow, reverent care, brushing away the sweat from her neck, the flecks of blood from her thighs. His fingers lingered, not to arouse, but to soothe.

Xinyu watched him in silence, her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. When he reached her face, she caught his wrist and kissed his palm.

“Don’t you want me again?” she whispered.

“I always do,” he said. “But right now, I want to hold you.”

He wrapped the blanket around them and let her rest on his chest. His heartbeat was steady now, like a metronome.

“I thought you were going to run,” he said after a long silence.

“I almost did,” she admitted. “But then I realized I’d be emptier without you.”

He pressed his lips to her temple. “Then I’ll keep you full.”

She smiled against his skin. “You already do.”

And for the first time in days, they both slept.

Surrounded by death.

Cradled in devotion.

Now, they were partners. Lovers. Artists.

Predators.

Their ritual was always precise. First: the hunt. Bars, nightclubs, anywhere loud music could drown out a scream. They would split up and scan the room, eyes gliding over the crowd like spotlights.

Xinyu,Penelope,was the lure.

She sat at the bar in a short black dress, makeup subtle, hair tied loose around her neck like a noose she wore by choice. She ordered the most expensive cocktail on the menu, sipped slowly, lips staining the rim.

She was poetry in skin and silk, and they always came.

This time, a man swaggered over, reeking of ego and cologne. “Come on, baby,” he slurred, leaning too close. “Just one night, you and me. I’ll put those sexy legs to work.”

Xinyu’s eyes flicked up lazily, amused. “Just one night?” she purred.

Her voice was honey laced with venom. The man grinned, oblivious. Behind them, in the shadows near the bathroom, Y/n watched with folded arms, sipping from an untouched glass. His expression was relaxed, but his eyes never left Xinyu.

The man didn’t stand a chance.

Ten minutes later, she was leading him out the back exit, laughing as she stumbled on her heels. “You sure you can handle me?” she teased.

“In my sleep,” he grinned.

They turned the corner into a dark alley.

Y/n stepped out from behind a dumpster. The crowbar in his hands met the man’s skull with a sickening crack.

The man collapsed without a word.

Xinyu exhaled sharply, shaking her head with mock disapproval. “You never let me have any fun.”

“You were having too much,” Y/n replied, dragging the body by the collar. “Besides, he smelled like cheap vodka and regret.”

They stuffed him into the truck, wrapping his head to stop the bleeding too early.

“One more, right?” Xinyu beamed.

Y/n wiped his hands. “Then we can finish it.”

The second was a woman. Dressed in faux fur, red heels, mascara already smudged. She was on her third drink when Y/n approached her, soft-spoken and charming.

“I’m looking for someone with an eye for beauty,” he said, setting down a drink in front of her. “Think you fit the part?”

She laughed, tossing her hair. “Is that your line?”

He smiled. “Only when it’s true.”

He let her flirt. Let her touch his hand, lean close, whisper things. When she whispered she knew a place nearby, he agreed.

She didn’t notice Xinyu following close behind.

This time, Xinyu was the one who struck. A needle in the neck, the woman’s body going limp in seconds.

Y/n caught her before she fell.

“Always wanted to see you do it,” he murmured.

“I like taking turns,” Xinyu whispered back, smiling.

They returned to the warehouse.

The steel door groaned on its hinges as they entered, and the sour tang of dried blood hit them like a memory. Inside, the fluorescent lights buzzed and flickered, casting erratic shadows across the stained floor. The metallic scent of iron lingered in every breath. On the far end, two bodies waited,lifeless, slack-jawed, suspended like grotesque marionettes.

The silence was thick, reverent.

Y/n stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. "We’ll need new hooks soon," he murmured.

"I’ll ask Yooyeon-unnie to bring more," Xinyu replied softly, brushing a flyaway strand from her face.

It took time to hoist the bodies. Leather gloves slipped, muscles strained. The chains groaned under the weight, each swing of flesh casting grotesque shadows along the wall. They moved in unison, practiced and methodical. They had done this before. Many times.

The bloodletting began.

Scalpels whispered through skin. Tubes sucked greedily. The sound of dripping filled the room like a lullaby for monsters. Jugs lined the wall, waiting to be filled. The blood came in pulses at first,thick, hot, metallic. Steam coiled off the surface as it hit the cooler air.

"Do you remember the first time we did this?" Y/n asked quietly.

Xinyu looked up from the woman’s arm. "You mean the banker? The one who begged?"

Y/n nodded. "You kissed me before we opened him up. I think that’s when I knew."

"Knew what?"

"That this was love."

Xinyu smiled, turning back to her work. “It still is.”

Every cut was a confession. Every jug that filled was another vow.

Her fingers trembled only once,when she brushed the woman’s cheek and thought of her mother. It passed. Quickly.

Neither of them flinched when bone cracked.

When the final drops were coaxed from limp veins, the room held its breath. The fluorescent buzz softened. The drip-drip-drip slowed to silence.

Y/n stood, wiping sweat from his brow, his face streaked with blood and something more tender.

Xinyu met his gaze.

"We’ll need a new canvas," he said.

"I already stretched one," she replied.

Their hands were soaked, crimson up to their wrists. Their bodies were tired, but their eyes were alive.

He walked to her. Touched her jaw.

"You smell like iron," he whispered.

"So do you."

They kissed,tasting blood, breath, exhaustion.

Every drop was sacred.

Their love,immortalized in red.

In the city, panic was no longer a murmur,it was a scream.

It threaded through every street, every alley, curling beneath apartment doors like a sickness. People no longer looked one another in the eyes. They kept their heads down, avoided walking alone. Grocery stores emptied before nightfall. Curfews were no longer suggestions, but survival tactics.

The media couldn't keep up. News anchors trembled behind their desks. Every day brought new horrors: bodies found drained and eyeless, blood used like paint on walls, alleyways turned into mausoleums. No pattern. No mercy.

Mothers pulled their children close and whispered old superstitions. Talismans sold out overnight. The police tripled patrols, set up checkpoints, interrogated every suspicious figure,but it didn’t matter. People still vanished. The fear festered.

Murals made of real blood had begun appearing on public buildings,on the sides of hospitals, metro tunnels, even schools. Police covered them within hours, but the stain always remained beneath the paint. The rain never washed it away.

And then there were the names.

Odysseus and Penelope.

Graffitied on alley walls. Whispered in cafés. Painted in careful strokes near crime scenes. No one knew who they were,only that they were always three steps ahead. Always watching. Always creating.

Inside the warehouse, Y/n and Xinyu thrived.

The flickering lights buzzed like insects. The blood-stained floor stuck slightly to their feet. Canvases leaned along the walls like hollowed souls, every one of them breathing with agony, awe, and love.

Their hands were always red.

Sometimes they danced,slow, eerie, with arms around each other, cheek to cheek. The music was in their heads, or hummed through Xinyu’s lips. She led sometimes. He let her.

Other nights, they fought.

Rage would shatter the stillness. Xinyu’s screams would echo through the high ceilings as she hurled paint, brushes, knives. Y/n would yell back, chest heaving, eyes bright with fury and ache. And then the storm would break,not in silence, but in a kiss. Violent. Breathless. They clung to one another as if they could fuse.

“I hate when you look at the paintings more than me,” she hissed one night, straddling him on the paint-splattered floor.

“I only look at them,” he panted, “because they all look like you.”

And she forgave him.

He painted her again. And again.

Sometimes in shadow. Sometimes as a goddess. Sometimes as a corpse with flowers growing from her mouth.

She would sit by his side, brush her fingers through his hair, her lips grazing his ear.

“Do you think they’ll ever catch us?”

“Not unless you want them to,” he said.

She laughed.

“I think,” she whispered, “if I died right now, I’d want to be buried on your canvas.”

He looked up at her, brush dripping red. “If you disappeared, I’d paint you until my hands broke.”

She kissed him then,hard, deep, messy with tears she never let fall.

And as their lips met, sirens howled outside.

The city, panicked and gasping, flinched in the distance.

Inside the warehouse, Y/n and Xinyu painted.

And the world trembled again.

In another life, they might have been ordinary.

A girl with charcoal under her fingernails. A boy with headphones too loud. A shared sketchbook passed in class, filled with doodles and hearts. Maybe they would’ve gone to art school. Lived in a tiny flat. Painted ceilings with dreams instead of blood.

But not in this life.

Here, love came with sacrifice. With blades and brushes. With whispered names and gurgled prayers. Their canvases were soaked. Their hearts were full. And the city,the loud, hungry, trembling city,was finally starting to listen.

News anchors couldn’t hide their terror anymore. The nightly death toll flashed across screens like scores from a war no one volunteered for. Parents clutched their children, fingers trembling with each knock at the door. Cops wept behind closed station doors. Psychologists called it hysteria. Artists called it a revolution.

But it was neither.

It was devotion.

Because monsters don’t always growl.

Sometimes, they kiss between murders. Sometimes, they dance barefoot in blood. Sometimes, they argue about brushstroke technique while a heart still beats somewhere on the floor.

And sometimes, they love each other more than they love the world.

Which is exactly what makes them dangerous.

Odysseus dipped his brush into the warm, crimson pool beside his boot.

Penelope adjusted the canvas, her fingers stained, her eyes bright. “Not too much pressure,” she murmured. “Let the blood run. Let it speak.”

He nodded, smiling at her like she was the only thing real in a collapsing universe.

Together, they painted something unforgettable.

A mural of two bodies, entangled,half-kiss, half-wound. No eyes. No mouths. Just devotion. Just red.

And on the wall beside it, in delicate strokes:

“WE WERE HERE.”

The next morning, the police broke down the door.

But the warehouse was empty.

Only the mural remained.

And the blood was still wet.

Epilogue

The mural remained for weeks.

Long after the police cordoned off the building, long after the detectives quit staring at each other with blank, helpless eyes, long after the cameras stopped rolling,the mural remained.

Two bodies. Twisted together. No eyes. No mouths. Only a tangle of limbs and hearts and pain and want. The blood never dried completely. It shimmered faintly in the dark.

Tourists came. Then artists. Then copycats.

Some tried to recreate the style,smearing red across concrete, writing poems in bone dust and chalk. Others whispered that Penelope and Odysseus had moved on to another city. Some said they were dead. Some said they were gods.

But in the hush of alleys and in the folds of peeling posters, their story grew. A hundred urban legends, all sharing the same spine:

They loved too much.

They made the world bleed with it.

And somewhere, under a new sky, in a new warehouse or beneath an underpass, they painted again.

Because the city will always forget.

And artists never do.

[neopuppy]

Our Sick Story, Thus Far (M)

Teddy Bear—> (yes you have to read this first)

pairing. Jeno x female reader x Haechan x ?

genre. college AU, pwp, dark fic, angst, M/F

wc. 29k

warning. profanity, bullying, forced relationship, cheating, dr*g use mentioned, blackmailing, coercion, possessive/obsessive behavior, lies deceit manipulation etc, is anyone in this story actually a good person??(the answer: no), stockholm vibes. smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

now playing. Our Sick Story(Thus Far)//Atreyu

a/n. it’s been a long time coming and I hope the wait was worth it for this story that I had no business writing to begin with😅

dedicated to the messages I received letting me know Teddy Bear made them wanna throw up. you are going to love this one! and @notncdeeh for consistently bothering me to finish writing this💚

smut warnings. dubcon/noncon elements(DO NOT read if that makes you uncomfortable. thanks.), Jeno refers to y/n as ‘Teddy’ often, no teddy plush shall be spared, dacryphyilia, humiliation, degradation/praise, oral, anal, rimming, finger sucking, sub/dom dynamics, switching, hair pulling, slapping, protected and unprotected sex, breeding, impreg kink/forced pregnancy, cock warming, hidden camera use, choking, mind break, surprise character smut(👀).

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･

Art class had taught you more than expected when you chose the extra curriculum for ‘stress relief’ as the school’s counselor put it, emphasizing how fast you will burn out if you don’t allow yourself one light work subject.

‘Paint me something pretty today.’ Jeno smirked near the entrance, stepping backward to keep his gaze on yours until he could no longer see you from the hallway.

Blue, sky blue. 

Jeno’s favorite color is sky blue, which he mentioned one day when grabbing you after class. The only one of your courses he’d been unable to transfer into because it’d interfere with his degree.

‘It’s a shame we can’t be together all day.’ Jeno traced a faded spot along the column of your throat while you studied color theory. A mixture of blue and yellow bruises speckled with red bits of gnawed skin. 

Art class has taught you many things, one being- you aren’t very artistic, and that much like the blue sky had turned darker earlier these days, so had your mind. 

Jeno rained trickles of blues into your favorite colors, he muddied a bright day, stained pools of misery around your world.

Sky blue is an ugly color, you think, because even as he smiled with an arm slung over your shoulders walking through the first drops of November rain; Jeno robbed hues of yellow and gold from the sun. He gathered red from the last days of summer heat and stormed through your life on a cloud tainting everything a miserable shade of black.

Art class had really become your everyday sanctuary, a time away from him. Time to pretend that Jeno had never invaded your days.

A time to daydream from aw you hid behind a canvas, imagine ‘what if’, and admire a student from across too focused on his work to spare you a glance.

and when Jeno would arrive ready to prance you through the halls as his play thing, his little toy, you couldn’t help but wonder..

In another life you could have fallen for Jeno. You could have loved him, developed a healthy relationship, formed fond memories to reflect upon together in the future.

But in this life, you hate him.

Hate may be a strong word, but as you sit across from the bane of your existence, you know one thing is certain.

You hate Jeno Lee.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･

Perhaps it is to your detriment that Jeno has made you feel nothing, unless numbness can be classified as an emotion.

By the round of omnipresent gasps and whispers that reach your ears each time you enter a room with him, it’s hard to not fixate on the way his presence alone stirs the first rumble of what can only be classified as a concrete shattering earthquake. Maybe that’s the problem, because even when Jeno’s arms are wrapped around your waist from behind, leading you through the cafeteria to sit at a table alone with eyes of vultures ready to pick your flesh apart inch by inch; you cannot find it in yourself to care. Not anymore, not even close, not even a little.

“I like it when you wear your hair down.” Jeno whispers, fixing your loose locks to one side. “It’s really cute how you think this is enough to cover yourself and hide from me.”

Bony fingers trace patterns of sadness atop the marks he’s drawn along your throat. “Pretty.”

Cute. Pretty. Meaningless compliments, because how could they hold any meaning pouring from a soul filled with nothing but darkness.

Even as you sit pressed to his side in the back of the library, you feel sick, scribbling a mental note to wear your hair up more often. His compliments replay like a broken record, scratching the way up your thigh to a cut between the juncture of your knee. Your teeth clench as you claw your jagged nails up your inner thigh, attempting to make the mental gash real just to feel something. Dig the wound deeper, much like Jeno’s sweet words strike similar to the tip of a blunt tip knife; aimed recklessly at your soul slicing through inch by inch. Cutting you open until your blood has been drained of all life.

His eyebrows furrow, gaze following along to your hand and slapping your wrist away. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I need to use the restroom.”

“Great!” Jeno pipes up, grabbing your bag. “So do I.”

“Jeno..”

Standing up, he smiles expectantly, lip quirked to one side daring you to speak out loud against him. It’s useless, you know better by now.

“Can we make it fast this time? The bell will ring soon..” you mumble quietly, walking alongside him toward the exit.

“Worried you’ll miss your precious little painting class?” Jeno nudges you toward the mens bathroom, grabbing a hold around your elbow as he steps in first. “EMPTY OUT!” He roars, followed by an urgent shuffle and toilet flushing as one of the new Freshmen you recognize scuttles out with his head ducked, toilet paper attached to the back of his sneaker. 

Jeno laughs breathily, entertained by the younger's fearful exit. The fear that he can instill in anyone easily with the snap of his fingers, or a mere glance. Turning toward you, he smiles, nodding to one of the stalls. “All yours.”

“That wasn’t necessary..” you say quietly, moving past him to find the cleanest stall available, nose scrunched in disgust as you settle on one and turn to shut the door. “Shit.” You startle jumping back, clutching at your chest.

Jeno latches onto the stalls frame, peering down at you. “No need to close the door Teddy, it’s only me.”

“Jeno, please..”

“You know I hate it when you do that.” Jeno swings his body back and forth, head shaking side to side slowly. “You said you need to use the bathroom?”

Locking your eyes to the floor, you’re at least thankful for choosing a skirt to wear today, lifting, sliding your underwear to your knees as you squat down and settle with your skirt fanned out over your thighs.

Jeno turns to laugh, rolling his eyes. “The way you still act so shy, like you’re ashamed..” 

As if he hasn’t defiled you and had his way with you in every which way he prefers. “Cute.” Jeno’s gaze traces up from your sneakers to where your knees clench together, running his tongue under the inside of his lip. “Done?”

Scooting closer, his arms drop down to his sides, shoulders appearing more broad from where he looms above you. “And look at that, with time to spare still.” 

Jeno grips around your upper arm, hoisting you up to your feet, panicked as you’d just begun to reach for the roll of toilet paper. “What’re yo—stop!”

Ignoring you, he flips you around to press your back against the stall, licking across his lips akin to a rabid animal. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll clean you up.”

He drops to his knees, bunching your skirt up to your waist as he perches one of your legs upon his shoulder, face burying between your thighs. 

“Jeno, don’t! That’s too—“

The drag of his tongue has you choking, squirming back to get away as heat fills your cheeks, completely mortified by the sweep of his tongue running up and down. “N-no!”

Jeno groans, face shaking side to side as he makes sure to cover each inch of the skin between your thighs, tongue greedily running rampant between your folds. “That’s so disgusting.” You cry, pushing at his head, nails dug into his scalp

Jeno rushes back with a hiss, eyes snapping open wildly as he apprehends your wrists and clutches around your forearms roughly, returning the feeling with his short filed nails. “Funny how you only shut up at the worst times.” Overpowered, he pulls on your arms to launch himself back up, twisting them around your back painfully to press you to the stall chest first. “So difficult.”

Returning to his knees, he flips your skirt back up, keeping your wrists tethered with one hand. “Thought you wanted to get to class on time?” Jeno’s nose drags between your bottom, sucking in a deep inhale. “Fuck.”

He groans, biting down on the cleft of your ass hard enough to leave marks behind. A new one to join the rest that he makes sure to add daily. “Nothing about this is disgusting.” Cupping one of your buttcheeks, he bounces the meaty flesh against his face, eyes rolling up as his nose dips against your tight ring of muscle. 

“Not there!” You wheeze, scrabbling to get away by uselessly scratching down the wall. 

“You’ll get used to it.” He rumbles against your core, lips circling your entrance with a lewd slurp; not missing a drop of your arousal beginning to drip out. “Ridiculous how good you taste.” 

Clapping your ass against his cheek without pause, Jeno’s neck bends back more, jaw opening wide to swipe his tongue from your clit to your hole, growling between short staggered breaths. Each drag of his nose slowly circling your rim humiliates you worse, biting down to keep in your complaints the more he goes for it. Splaying out his palm, he spreads your ass completely open, unveiling the taut ring of muscle clenching helplessly.

Jeno kisses at the backs of his teeth, drawing in a sharp breath as his index finger extends to tap and tease your rim, cheek dimpling to one side the more you fail to pull away. “You’ll let me fuck you here next, yeah?” He laughs, pushing your trapped fist into your lower back to form a deep arch. “Fill up all your holes, is that what you want?”

“N-no..” You grimace, face pressed to the chill bathroom stall. “Please, hurry, please.”

His tongue clicks obnoxiously, blowing on your rim before setting down a searing kiss, tongue smoothing around in a circle. “Why should I hurry? I don’t even get to fuck you.” He sneers, eyeing the time on his wrist. 

“Later,” you pipe up fast, rutting back against his face to convince him. “After school, we can.. do that..” 

His eyebrows shoot high, peering up in surprise. “Oh yeah? I’ll hold you to that, Teddy.” He bites down on your buttcheek again for good measure, nipping the skin roughly. “Now be good, and hold yourself open if you want to make it on time.” His grip on your wrist loosens, shaking off the sting left behind only for a second before he slaps your palms down on your butt and adjusts your position to expose both your holes. “That’s it.”

Thick arms circle around your thighs, biceps flexing to keep a snug grip on you as his hot tongue returns to your center and glides between your folds, inching lower until his lips can wrap around your clit.

“Uhhnnghhh..” you jolt, firmly tucking in your mouth to suppress a moan from soaring out.

Jeno’s hands swipe up the front of your thighs, gliding his mouth and nose from your wet hole to your clit with teasing firm flicks of his tongue; three of his digits find your bundle of nerves right as his mouth latches back around your entrance. His tongue buries deep, lifting your toes to curl up off the floor, knocking your forehead against the wall as you fight to keep in a desperate cry. 

He’s relentless, tongue expertly waving against your insides, the muscle strong and thick. “Ugh!” A whine breaks through your sealed lips, smacking the stall as he taps your clit repeatedly, urging you to break down and squeeze your release around his tongue.

Jeno draws out, mouth a mess of shiny wet, panting heavily. “Come on, give me what I want.” He slaps your clit roughly, spitting at your entrance before plunging in, nosing at your rim harshly as he struggles to breathe out of his nostrils. He grumbles between choked breaths, tongue working in and out of your hole with precise thrusts. Each rub to you rim, stroke against your clit, and incessant roll of his tongue inside of you shoots straight through your legs, ready to collapse if not for his arms keeping you held in place.

“Je—I—“ your eyes roll back, grateful that he can’t see the wash of pleasure pouring down your face. Turned putty under his ministrations as you clamp around his tongue shamefully, scratching down the stall in a weak attempt to get away.

Jeno drags out only to lick up the trickle that managed to escape his mouth, lapping your inner thighs clean with a deep moan. Each swipe of his tongue raises your humiliation up higher, hissing and jerking away when he reaches the cut along your knee.

“What is this?” He grips a hold around your calve, forcing you to balance on one leg to get an up close look and inspect how deep the wound goes. “When did you do this?”

“Don’t know, think when I ran down the stairs to meet you this morning the stair bannister skimmed my leg..”

He grunts displeased, setting your foot down to stand and kick open the door. “Come here.”

Jeno motions to the sinks, dropping both of your backpacks down next to you on the counter. “Does it hurt?”

He examines your knee closer, propping your foot to rest along the sink ledge, tongue poked between his teeth. 

“Why do you care?” You ask with a scowl, reassigning your attention to the bathroom floor when Jeno slowly blinks at you and reaches to open his backpack.

“Is that a serious question?”

“Whatever.”

He nods, huffing an amused sound under his breath as he grabs a pack of sanitation wipes. “This may sting but I’d rather you not get some infection, especially after scratching at it.”

He proceeds to lightly dab the wound, drawing a hiss between your teeth despite how gentle he’s trying to be. 

“You don’t have to do that,” you bite, leg jerking in his hold. “I won’t pick at it anymore.”

“Sure.” Pink lips purse together, delicately blowing over the area. “I don’t have much, but I’ll cover it up with some gauze when we get home later.”

Home.

Jeno speaks as if you live together, and you may as well at this point. Ripping a bandage open with his teeth, his eyes thin to place the non-sticky white where your flesh appears most harmed. “You’re mine now, I expect you to be more careful than this with your body.”

Squeezing up your calve, his thin digits dig through the meat of your muscle, trapping your bouncing gaze. “Maybe it’s best you move out of that shit hole you live in. That areas not well fit for a young girl to live alone there.”

“I can’t afford to move..”

Jeno’s lips gingerly land atop the bandaid, puckering to press a kiss. “I’ll figure something out.”

“You’re being weird.” You whisper, turning away from the sight of his pouty mouth continuing to layer kisses over your wound as if to heal you faster.

“It’s okay.” He draws your foot off the counter, taking a hold of your thighs to make space for himself to stand closer between. “It’s okay to accept it.”

Jeno’s eyes appear black as night, empty of any genuine thought or emotion, but even then your chest aches at the flicker of hope when he looks at you. It’s different, nothing you’ve experienced from anyone else. He looks at you like you’re..

“Special.” He whispers, pinching your chin as he leans in closer and his palm smooths over the covered wound. “Does it hurt?”

“..Would you hurt me?” Your lips move faster than you mind can register, asking yourself the question over and over again without realizing you’ve said it outloud. 

Jeno blinks slowly, taking in your nervous expression. Opening up his palm, he moves to cup your chin and keep your face visible as you try to hide away, slowly inching forward to connect your mouth to his.

The bell rings right before your lips can meet, dislodging the breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding. It’s easy to break from your thoughts and push yourself off from the sink, scoot around him fast with the excuse of being late. “My scholarship.” You constantly remind him, receiving nothing more than a roll of his eyes in return.

“Yeah yeah,” he trails after you out of the bathroom, voice low and threatening. “I’m holding you to what you said for later, don’t forget.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･

Jeno met Haechan the first day of Freshman year of high school.

Excited to show off a new pair of shoes with wheels attached on the soles, he rolled through the hallways to his first class. That’s when he noticed an on-slaught of senior girls running by in their short cheerleading uniforms. Giggling and waving as they jogged by him cackling from behind their hands- ‘hey freshie’.

All too distracted with a goofy smile on his face, he missed the shorter boy wandering ahead of him lost. An unfortunate collision caused their foreheads to bump hard enough for a bruise to show up on both of them by lunch. 

Haechan hissed, crashing flat on his bottom painfully; Jeno quickly apologized and helped him up. Little did he know they’d become great friends from that day forward.

Jeno’s not jealous of Haechan, not necessarily. He admires how giving his friend can be, really. If Jeno ever forgets to grab his packed lunch, Haechan will always offer to share. He’s always sure to invite Jeno over to play games whenever his dad purchases the latest gaming console. He’d even go as far as lending Jeno the shirt off his back if needed.

‘What are friends for if not to have you back in any situation?’ That’s what Haechan would say whenever Jeno felt rendered speechless by his friend's generosity. 

The thing is, Jeno had never had a friend like Haechan. He questions if he can even call his relationships with others friendships anymore.

Unlike Haechan, Jeno had trained himself to not share. Friends had only become burdensome with time. Always asking him to play with his toys, mooching from his delicious snacks, making a big deal over the new pair of sneakers he wore that day.

They liked him because he had nice things, but they didn’t actually care about him. They cared about materialistic bullshit, about his good looks, the designer name brand clothing he’d wear.

Haechan was different from all of them. One day he opened up and shared that he’d felt homesick. Vulnerable at the time after a long tiresome day of introducing himself to groups of snobby fake stuck up people. One even pointed out a manga on his desk saying- ‘I’ve only seen weird loners read that shit’.

‘I had a friend.. back home.’ Haechan had sighed despairingly, head dropped lazily on his bed; drained by the realization that this is his new life. ‘Well.. I wanted her to be more than a friend.’

Jeno watched Haechan over the next few years. His friend changed, reformed his persona to fit in with the standard; he adapted quickly to this new lifestyle. Days of asking Jeno if he’d like some of his lunch dwindled down to nothing; seemingly only irritated that Jeno could be so forgetful of he ever asked for his leftovers.

Things had only become more tense with time. Haechan had grown competitive with everyone. He craved to be the ‘it’ boy around school. It never phased Jeno, not really, he learned to accept the change in his friend. 

Then came the day Haechan decided that Jeno was his competition.

“Jeno, don’t you think this Cartier bracelet would look so cute on my wrist?” Sinclair waved her phone in his face. Wrist waggling out toward him, suggesting with her flirty batting eyelashes that he buy it for her; she had been on his ass for months dropping hints. “Perhaps you could finally ask me out with a gesture such as this?”

“He can’t afford that.” Haechan rolls his eyes letting out a breathy scoff by her side. 

“Of course he can, nothing a swipe of your dad’s Amex can’t cover. He won’t even notice it on the monthly statement.” Sinclair goes on.

“His dad’s broke.” Haechan corrects her abruptly, glancing quickly toward Jeno’s burning glare. “I mean, uh... don’t repeat that.” 

Haechan snatches her phone, waving off that he’d buy it for her when he takes her out come Friday. 

All it took was some stupid girl Jeno could give a fuck about for Haechan to let him down for the last time. It bothered him for months, imagining the various ways he could split his ‘friends’ skull open. 

“I won’t mention it again dude. It was a mistake, alright?” Haechan whispers standing near his locker after Jeno had resorted to the silent treatment for the rest of the week. “Listen, I’m sure she’s already forgotten. I’ll just take her to some overpriced restaurant and tell her I made that up because I was high or whatever.”

“You promised me you wouldn’t tell anyone.” 

“Promises are for children Jeno, I forgot alright? I’m allowed to make a mistake.” Haechan showed no remorse. Proving his promises to be empty, backed by no integrity, lacking worth and value. Jeno knew deep down Haechan only continued to befriend him out of guilt, he knew their relationship boiled down to nothing for the other at the end of the day.

He knew he had to do something about it, but he couldn't. He had to wait for the perfect timing. He had to leave Haechan defenseless. He needed to ensure no way for his father to find out of his plan. Leave Haechan with no way to snitch and rat him out, a threat strong enough to hold over his friend's head.

The day you came along everything fell into place. Jeno knew as he watched Haechan’s head lay on your shoulder from behind a bookshelf in the library, you clearly meant something to him. None of it made sense at first. Why would Haechan care about you of all people?

“Remember that girl you mentioned from back home?” Jeno decides to casually bring up the story he’d hardly cared about or paid attention to while gaming. His friend's throat cleared on the opposite end from behind his computer screen. 

“Yeah, what about her?” Haechan says, continuing to mumble curses as he goes on playing.

“Whatever happened to her? Did you two keep in touch at all?” Jeno asks, cursing at the screen to seem casually interested.

“Uhhh,” Haechan swallows, shrugging. “Honestly, don’t know.”

Liar.

Jeno’s teeth grit, holding back a laugh. “That’s too bad, you two were really close, I remember how tore up you were back then when you had first moved. Took you a while to get over it.”

“Man, that was so long ago.” Haechan waves off. “I was a kid.”

Raising a finger to silence their conversation, Haechan pauses the game, picking up his phone after the first ring. “Hey baby, nah I’m just with Jeno, yeah the usual.” Haechan proceeded to ignore him, the old friend he once cherished long gone now.

Just like you.

There are times you want to ask ‘Why me? Why me of all people? Out of all the girls withering away for a mere blink from Jeno in their directions, what the fuck made me matter.’

The unplanned vow of silence you’ve committed to halts those times your tongue itches to lash at him, and you listen, you listen well, very well. It’s to your detriment really, because Jeno adores that you listen, he loves the implication of the power he constricts you with behind your binded lips.

It’s also to his detriment that— for lack of better words, Jeno isn’t the brightest. Maybe he doesn’t want to come off too intelligent, you contemplate as he gushes on about his lost friendship; his favorite topic other than you really.

Haechan.

Jeno’s obsessed with Haechan, at least he’s obsessed with the fact that Haechan won. Between his foul rehashing of times his alleged best friend made him feel futile, it’s easy to decipher why it had to be you.

Not to make Haechan jealous, no. Haechan could give a fuck about you.

Jeno sees the precious memories of his former friend that he lost in you. The glint in his iris sparkles, satisfied by your raptured gaze as he wraps up his story.

“That’s why you’re so perfect.” He says proudly, capturing his bottom lip between index finger and thumb, massaging it while a hum rises up his throat. “Had to be you. You’re the answer I’ve been waiting for.”

The answer. What the fuck does that even mean, you squint, blinking it away fast. Jeno beams, pulling you closer to him with his arm snaking around your waist. “I like when you do that, makes me wonder what’s going on in that brain of yours. Something devious I’m sure.”

Carrying your bag, he hooks an arm over your shoulder, drawing you close as you venture to your next class together. “Hey.”

Maneuvering you around to face him, he stops at the classroom door, grabbing the attention of numerous students as he blocks the entrance making an awkward scene for you. “What are yo—“

“I love you.” Jeno announces loud and clear, receiving a round of gasps and an uproar of whispers. He smiles, cheeks lined with wrinkles, eyebrows raised as he waits.

“Wha—…” breaking off, you peer around quickly, sweat pouring down your back out of fear. Anger and an oncoming storm raging through your gut. “What.”

He lets out a chuckle, sighing as he hugs your back to his chest and proceeds to make way to your seats, further boiling the heat building up your chest. “My sweet sweet Teddy.”

“What the hell is wrong with you!” You hiss, throwing your shoulder into his chest to continue to your seat under the eyes of the entirety of your class. Rounds of whispers sing around you, the usual confusion you’ve become accustomed to laced between every shared word. 

He sits by your side, arm back around you in no time with a large smile, nodding and peering around the room to affirm that he meant what he just said. 

Every cell in your body wants to explode, throw Jeno down onto the ground and crush his face under your foot. The squeeze around your shoulder curls you in further, wishing to be anywhere but here.

“Cold?” He asks, knowing that you aren’t, it’s a mere excuse to wrap himself around you more. His nose nuzzles against your hair, taking a deep inhale with a suffocating possessive hug wrapped tightly you. “Can’t have my Teddy get sick.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ 

“Teddy.”

It’s shrill, nausea inducing, the way Jeno’s grown fond of this nickname for you.

The way he smiles and peers at you with some sick adoration as he calls you his teddy bear again.

While you feel trapped and disgusted, everyone else seems confused, peeved, and to be gossiping about the two of you.

Haechan’s girlfriend sports an ugly sneer when you walk by wrapped under one of Jeno’s arms; snapping the pencil in her hand into a broken half as he sets a kiss on your forehead, smirking at the round of gasps your schoolmates let out throughout the hallway.

“They’re all so jealous of you.” 

They are jealous of you, watchful eyes speak volumes following your conjoined figures heading toward the parking lot. 

Jeno has successfully transferred into nearly all of your classes, he picks you up and drops you off. Blows up your phone with texts and calls the second you’re apart. He doesn’t ask for updates or proof of what you’re doing, he demands it. Threats fall empty now, you don’t have much to say, he does the talking. 

You listen.

“Our assignments are due next week.” He mutters, pulling away from the school in an opposite direction from where you live.

Our. Mine. His. 

Nothing is yours anymore, Jeno made sure of that.

“I have to be home soon..” 

“Oh yeah?” He lets out a breathy laugh, drumming the steering wheel while sat at a red light. “Last I checked you only have to be with me, your parents only call to check in on you once a week. They don’t have to know your location at all times teddy.”

Oh but he has to know. He knows everything about you, every excuse and lie you can concoct shot down by weeks of evidence collected while studying you from afar. Far enough for you to never catch on, too clueless because of your own insecurities to ever fathom that someone like Jeno could be obsessed with you.

“Besides, today is a special day.” He exclaims, driving into a gated community full of large three story houses resembling suburban mansions.

“How could you forget?” Jeno parks, moving to unbuckle your seatbelt. He sighs, pinching your chin to look at him. “It’s our one month.”

He pouts, bottom lip jutted out while blinking dumb and slow. 

Sometimes you think that Jeno’s cute, and that makes you hate yourself more than anything. All you can do is avert your gaze, pretend he has no affect on you, keep up an act that he’s emptied you of any possible emotion; because he wants to destroy you. He wants you to feel helpless, wants you to rely on him because you have nothing else.

He’s pushing you inside of the house, digging into your knees from behind with his, built arms tightly wrapped around your waist. Suffocating you, that’s what he does, coating you in his scent, sucking out your energy throughout the duration of each day with the metaphoric needles he prickles you with. Every word that drips from his tongue feels like acid poured onto your flesh, burning through the layers to melt you deep inside until the pain goes numb.

His families house is enormous, spread out and fully furnished. Luxurious like some 5 star hotel, which Jeno hasn’t let you forget is only thanks to Haechan’s father for saving their ass. 

‘My dad can’t afford this place anymore. The bank owns our house by now, but he’ll do anything to keep up appearances.’

That’s what he mentioned during lunch one day, ranting about how he can’t stand the way everyone ‘keeps up appearances’ around here; snickering disdainfully toward the table his former best friend sat at.

‘Especially him. Fake asshole.’

Jeno stops you in front of his bedroom door standing by itself in the hallway he’s led you through. 

A dark empty hallway, away from all of the other bedrooms. Ominous and cold.

“You know the way, open the door teddy.” 

Of course you know, it may as well be your bedroom at this point.  

“I have a surprise for you.”

Jeno’s palms cover your eyes when you reach for the door handle, stiffening your spine as his chest knocks against your back to make you step further inside.

Inside of his bedroom it’s dimly lit, a chilled temperature; the air cools down your throat with every breath you take. 

“Do you like it?” He’s smiling against the shell of your ear, whispering softly. Revealing with the drop of his hands a giant plushie sat on his bed against the corner; a human size teddy bear.

He knows you don’t like it, even the question sounds like a dare; a dare for you to say that you don’t like it, that you don’t like any of this.

You especially don’t like Jeno, or the way his palms brush down your arms, shifting to your waist to gather your top up. Bunching at your stomach as he begins to remove it from your body.

“There's more, Teddy.”

Of course there’s more.

The tips of his fingers slowly trail between your breasts, throwing your top off with ease because you don’t struggle. You let him take off your clothes whenever he wants. 

Most times he doesn’t touch you much, but he counts, he memorizes. He traces over indentations from teeth buried into your skin and faded bruises left behind after fucking you roughly. He makes sure there are no others, only Jeno can mark you, only Jeno can see you like this.

He takes time discarding your bottoms, unbuttoning slowly, pushing the material down your hips even slower. Squatting down to his knees to pepper faint kisses on your hips and thighs as more your flesh comes to light; finishing off with a peck on your forehead when he stands and motions toward the plushie.

“Don’t you want the rest of your gift?”

You nod, just barely, taking a step toward the bed. Met with a hand clasped on your shoulder and a ‘nu-uh-uh Teddy’.

Jeno smirks, pushing on your shoulder. “On your knees.”

On your knees like the pet you’ve become. Crawling with your palms flattened onto the bed. Heating up knowing he’s behind you watching your underwear ride up your ass. It’s less humiliating now, he’s made you do worse.

A small black box sits between the teddy bear's legs, adorned with a glittery red bow.

“Open it.”

Hesitantly you pull apart the lid, pursing your mouth shut at the piece of jewelry inside.

A choker, a solid black thin choker you will no doubt have to wear around your neck everyday now. A choker with a teddy bear charm punctured in place through a small metal ring. 

“Ah, I can tell you love it already.” He chuckles, ripping the box from your hold. Shoving your hair away to lean close and lock the clasp around the back of your neck. Grazing the edge of his nose on your jaw and cheek as he does, a silent reminder that you are his, and he will do whatever he pleases with you.

Jeno has a sardonic smirk stretching his lips as he takes you in, fingering the charm dangling just beneath your throat.

“My teddy bear.” 

Tips of cold fingers trace your neck, following the pulse passing through your veins, it’s all just to push your buttons. Jeno wants a reaction, he craves your pitiful stares and miserable moans, he needs your pain to feel something.

You won’t give him that satisfaction, not anymore. 

He sighs, pushing your shoulder to nudge you in the direction of the large plush. “Don’t think I’m letting you off easily for forgetting our special day either.”

God. How could he possibly care enough about you to count down the days you’ve been ‘together’ or whatever he considers this. “Now, show me how much you love your gift.” He says with a wink, tapping your ass and nudging his chin to the teddy bear laid between his pillows.

This has to be some sick kink of his, and it’s impossible to forget what he made you do in that abandoned classroom a month ago..

“Just like last time.” He hums, moving onto the bed with his knees. “I know you remember.”

It’s not necessarily watching you grind against a toy that ripples blood through his veins faster, filling up his cock until it weighs heavy and hot between his thighs; but the saddened broken image before him, with your gaze lowered in shame as you mount the plush and grit your teeth. It’s the shattered feeble look of defeat that fills his chest with warmth more than anything. “That’s it.”

Reaching to smooth up your spine, he pushes at the backs of your shoulders, shifting closer to sit behind you on his knees. “Wanna see you ride it up close.”

He works to guide your hips down onto the bears stomach, pushing hard until your core meets the soft material and you let out a shameful whimper. Biting down on his lip as he slaps your thigh, squeezing up your butt to your waist with instruction to move.

It’s vile, rolling your hips down at his command, growing short of breath as the friction builds up between your legs and his strong hands manipulate your movements. Tears spring past the corners of your eyes the faster he makes you move up and down, grinding your core along the life-size plushie full of humiliation and fear.

“Your ass looks so fucking good.” He groans deeply behind you, rubbing down your back to cup your buttcheeks in a squeeze. Gripping and kneading, parting you open to watch your rim flutter against your panties with each pathetic hump against the teddy bear. “I know I couldn’t be your first time teddy..”

He leans in, chin resting on your shoulder to halt your movements as he dips in past the cleft of your ass to find your hole. “But I’ll be the first to fuck your ass.”

The gasp you try to keep mute still reaches his ears, softly chuckling against you as he adjusts and slides your underwear to one side. “Consider it your gift to me for forgetting our special day.”

Some special fucking day.. 

“You’re so wet already, doubt I’ll even have to prep you.” Jeno whispers, nudging the tip of his thumb against your rim. “Looks really tight, what do you think? Should I be nice and stretch you open first?”

“Please..p-please, I’ve never..”

“Shh shh, don’t worry, I believe you.” He chuckles softly, pressing the blunt tip of his length against your entrance. “With how tight that pussy is, I know you’ve never let anyone inside your ass. It’ll be a special memory only for us..”

Is it special? The tingle building in your stomach seems to agree, relaxing against the plushy to arch your butt out more. It has to be a Pavlovian response by now, conditioned to seek this pleasure Jeno provides you. Even if you hate accepting it. It’s not your fault that your body's natural response is to crave his touch, and spread your legs wider for it.

“I’ll be nice.” There’s amusement in the way he says it, like he doesn’t believe himself either. Slapping the mass of his cock down between the dip in your ass, cursing through clenched teeth. “You may not show it, but your cunt never lies.”

The bulbous tip swipes down, pressing against your clit, pushing your knees to slide open an inch more. It’s all taunting and teasing, running the fat cockhead between your chubbed folds, dipping it into your entrance just to watch you squirm and rut back for more. “Greedy pussy, acting like I don’t fuck you enough.”

He mumbles, smacking the underside of his length between your thighs. The wet clap stinging under the weight of his heavy size beating down on your swollen core. “J-Jeno..”

“Something wrong teddy?” He tuts, hips rolling up, gripping your buttcheeks to sandwich around his length. “You sound.. impatient.”

He gulps, trapping his cock under his thumbs to fuck between your buttcheeks faster. Wet tip prodding out, spilling precum down making the glide even easier. Each thrust passing over your pussy hole and rim makes your thighs tremble, burying your face deeper into the teddy bears neck. “Mmmph..”

“I know it hurts you Teddy..” Jeno’s words rasp against the back of your neck. Bending forward to paint your warm flesh with a coat of moisture. Sweat, raw sex and saliva combine, sticking your skin and his mouth together like hot glue. “Why do you have to be so good at taking it though? Huh?” 

Breath fans your upper back, the drag of his tongue races across your shoulders to bite down a groan on one. Notable effort to make you squirm and scream becomes more prevalent with each smack of his hips against your ass, grunting deeper the more he exerts. “It’s because you like me, right?” He asks between the sound of a struggled laugh, gasping with another slide of his thick length passing between your thighs. “You’re drenching me sweetheart, making a fucking mess of my sheets. You know what I’m gonna have to do later?”

He’s silent for a few seconds, panting heavily as his tongue trails to lick the column of your throat. The glide of his cock between your thighs is disgustingly loud, squishing and splashing in volumized echoes around his bedroom. “Your lack of response is becoming predictable, you know.”

His lower half snaps, protruding hip bones beat against your backside. A  gut crunching sensation curls up your chest, unable to deny the slick gush continuously leaking out of you and coating your ass and thighs the more frantic his motions become. “Can’t wash these sheets again, need to savor it. Remind you of how much you enjoyed it. How you finally gave in and accepted this fate.”

“N-no..”

“What was that?” Jeno asks breathlessly, gripping the base of his girth to position the tip against your rim. “You want more, don’t you?”

He presses in, watching his wet slit disappear past your asshole. “Ahh, no!! S-stop!”

He snickers, angling the tip to stretch your tight ring of muscle. “Relax. It’s going to hurt a lot if you don’t relax.”

“Please..go slow..” you sigh, biting on the plushy when he nudges more. 

“Be calm teddy. You want this?” He drags the sharp edges of his well-filed nails down your ass painfully, surely leaving marks behind. “Want my face shoved in your ass, huh? That’s why you’re whining so much.”

Jeno always has a way of speaking to you during these intimate moments. So cold and uncaring. The icy tone breaking your skin out in goosebumps. Even with your mouth sucking around the teddy bears arm, you whimper, the urge to cry spiking as he removes your panties and lands a sharp strike down on your ass.

“Bent over all pretty for me teddy, you arch that butt out like such a good little slut.” His palm smooths down lower, patting your wet folds to make you listen to how wet you are from this alone. “Who knows, after this I might not even bother with your pussy anymore. Have my own brand new unused hole to fuck now.”

He teases, swiping your clit side to side, dragging the tips of your fingers between your cunt to prod at your entrance. “You’re so wet, I love how fucking wet you get.”

A shaky breath leaves your lips as he twists two fingers inside and buries in knuckle deep, pressing his thumb to your asshole. “Such a perfect slut for me, ready to be my anal whore.” Jeno pulls out and lands a slap down on your rim, hard enough for the sound to clap out around his bedroom. Your hips drop from the sudden impact, biting down a scream into the plushy. “Enough of that, I wanna hear you.”

Wrapping around your waist, he manhandles you easily onto the center of his bed. Laid down on your back softly for him to get a good look at you, for you to finally see him. He’s big, broad, looming over you in the dim light illuminating from the corner of his room. The strokes of yellow paint across his chest and muscle, the darkness pronouncing deep indentations of muscle lining his abdomen and arms. Jeno falls forward, catching himself above you with his biceps bracketing your head, smiling as he leans in to kiss the fresh tears lining your cheeks. 

“As much as I wanna bend you over and fuck your ass like there’s no tomorrow.. “ he slows to kiss up from your chin to where droplets have pooled under the hollows of your eyes. Sucking up and kissing the wetness there, enjoying it more than you’d be able to comprehend. “Nothings better than watching your face when I fuck every inch of my cock inside..”

The pure joy glaring back at you from his dark glass irises rains more tears down your face, sniffling and shaking as he licks them clean and squishes your lips out. “Relax sweetheart, it’ll feel good for both of us. Promise.”

Thin digits run down from your jawline, tracing past your neck and over the mounds of your breasts. Jeno adjusts your position to haul one of your thighs up, using his shoulder to keep your knee pressed against the bed. He makes a show of bringing his hand up to his mouth, sucking around three fingers, dragging his sloppy wet tongue between each with laser focused eyes locked on yours. 

“You’re so good for me teddy, gonna let me use that pretty ass..” the way he holds you open exposes both of your holes, hovering past your swollen wet cunt to press two fingers against the clench of your asshole. “Just one baby..”

He presses the tip of one slicked up digit in, breaching the tight little muscle until you whine desperately. “Feels so warm..” Jeno’s eyes flutter, thick black eyelashes still visible in the low light. He sounds throaty, hungry, exasperated and needy. Quietly muttering to himself about how good your tight hole feels as he begins to pull his finger in and out slowly. “Bet your pussy was even tighter than this when you were still a virgin.” 

His voice comes out a lot more harsh, gravelly, guiding another finger in with the next stroke. They scissor through and flutter against your inner walls, tugging lightly at your rim as he dips out to the just the tips. “You’re opening up great for me sweetheart. Do you see how you always listen so good?”

Jeno sits on his knees like a predator catching his prey after a long meticulous hunt. Prodding another tip past your rim alongside the two, the muscles lining his arm rippling, exerting more strength to not push them in all at once. “Tell me teddy, are you desperate enough for me to even let me claim your ass?”

Your throat dries, pursing your lips together to quell the moan that nearly spills out. It’s a new type of full, sneaking peeks at the veins running down his inner forearm leading to the fingers working you open. A wash of shame and heat streaks down your limbs, shivering when Jeno draws his digits free, dangling them above your ass. 

“I know you are.” He lands another slap between your thighs, making your extended leg jerk. Fixing his angle to line the tip of his cock with your rim, the large blunt tip presses down, having to tuck your lips in to not scream. “..but I want to hear you say it.”

The head of his cock nudges in, pulling a gasp from your chest. Jeno bends closer to grab your jaw, shake your head around until you look at him. “Tell me to fuck your ass.”

“I’m—“ your voice sounds unrecognizable, squeaking out brokenly, overpowering the one you’re used to. “I—‘wan—“

Bending in closer, the pull up your hamstring burns, further pushing your leg against the bed. He pushes in another inch, the bulbous tip nearly fully entering, skin stretched taut around him. “You can do it, I know you can do it. Tell me sweetheart.”

“F-fuck—“ you pause, the last bits of your mind slipping away to another dimension. “Fuck m-my ass, please—fuck my a-ass.”

A sick pleased smile lifts the corners of his lips, bumping the tip of his nose to yours. Jeno doesn’t fuck the rest of his length in immediately the way you expect, slowly pushing each inch to savor the snap around his shaft. 

It’s when his hips bump against the backs of your thighs that you finally take in a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. Panting out heavily and wide eyed when you can feel the entirety of his cock fully sheathed inside of you.

It’s when Jeno begins to pull out that you bite down to keep in a scream, lifting up on his forearms caged around your head to watch his length draw free. It feels like he’s splitting you in two and he hasn’t even really gotten into it yet. It goes on like that for a minute or two, his head hung, black hair in your face, awestruck by your rim sucking around his dick each time he pulls out to the tip. He gains speed slowly, snapping his hips forward for the first time. Jolting your spine to arch up and finally release a tiny scream you can’t hold in any longer.

“Pussys making such a mess teddy..” Jeno rasps, throwing his head back, pink lips hung open. “Fuck, you’re dripping down to my balls. Love getting fucked up the ass.”

Every thought racing through your mind dissolves, blank and empty as you crane your neck to the side to get a look at what he’s going on about. Embarrassment flushes down your face, unconsciously clamping down on his length plunging in faster. The powerful snap of his hips rocking you deep into his bed, surrounded by Jeno Jeno Jeno. His smell, his touch, his mouth and his meaty girth stretching you open. It’s become something you expect, something you’d feel weird without now, Jeno. 

It burns when he buries in deep, grabbing onto the back of your knee for better control. The stretch feels more and more overwhelming with each pass of his cock manipulating your tight ring of muscle further. Digging his knees steadily into the bed, he picks up the pace and kicks his hips forward to fuck in to the hilt.

“Love fucking your ass. Love fucking you.” Jeno’s eyes clench shut, blinking quickly to open them and shove his forehead against yours. “Love you.”

God it makes your stomach churn, half pulled into a pleasure that feels too good to be true; sickened by how good it feels to be impaled by his fat cock. Half suffocated by the rushing swarm of emotions lassoing your brain, tightening until you feel ready to burst. And Jeno again with the fucking L word, dropping it like nothing, making sure you feel each syllable through his girth splitting you open. 

The push and pull against your clenching rim feels painful, feels good, makes your head spin. He eats it up, licking across your lips, trapping the bottom between his teeth to suck on. Nose dragging down your cheek, lapping the tears, sweat and spit painting your face. It should feel disgusting, you should feel repulsed, but this behaviors become so standard now. Jeno’s like a puppy sometimes, burying his face in your neck, searching for a place to lay new kisses.

Even during these times when he’s on top of you, pushing his cock in deep enough to bruise your cervix, your fingers itch to touch him. He usually does it for you, grabs your wrists and forces your hands to drag down his face, kissing the inside of your palms and wrists.

He seems more intent on kissing you right now, letting ragged breaths fans across your lips between light pecks. “Can you cum like this?” He asks, murmuring against your mouth. 

“I—I d-don’t know..” you really don’t. It’s your first time and the pleasures surging all over in different directions, racing between pain and confusion back to arousal and need. 

“You can.” Jeno whispers, lowering his face to your neck, gaze focused on your connected lower halves. “You’re so wet.”

Fingers trail down your stomach, softly skimming over your clit before easing between your folds. He sinks two inside, thumb rubbing your clit in a simultaneous motion, filling you from both ends. “Ugh! Yeah just like that sweetheart..”

Jeno snaps forward, trying to match the rhythm of his hips to his fingers. He bites down on your jugular, panting heavily against your throat. The burn of the stretch crashes against waves of pleasure, twitching up with each rough rub at your clit.

“I’m—I’m c-cumm—“ the sob you break off into has him moving faster akin to a feral animal. The weight of his bulky frame lands down on you hard enough to make his bed shake, headboard slam against the wall. Each brush of his thumb at your clit feels more sensitive than the last, sending you over the edge, mind blank beyond the grip your ass has around his cock. “Ahh!”

The wetness spilling out past his fingers slides all the way down to your lower back, further solidifying your humiliation. Because he’s right, you are wet just from this, loving your ass stuffed full. Drowning in the sensation of his length ramming in and out.

“Squeeze that fuckhole around me so good teddy, cum cum—“ Jeno chants manically, throwing his hips down rough and fast. Pressing down your clit harshly between viscous flicks, rolling the stiff nub until your toes curl. 

You spill over quickly, writhing under his weight as the pressure of wetness pushes his fingers out of your cunt. The orgasm rolls through you like no other, rolling your eyes to the back of your skull. Thinking you’ve passed off into the afterlife if not for the way he draws back and pounds into your ass.

“You like it?!” Jeno’s expression morphs into one of anger, black eyebrows furrowed together. He grabs your face again, chasing after his release still slamming his cock in deep. “You like getting fucked up the ass?”

The questions pointed, furious. The face of frustration and anger only there to mask how close he is to falling apart, reaching a new high as he charges to the peak. 

“L-love it, yes..” you barely whisper, tear filled eyes blinking the moisture away to watch his features contort and crumble. His pace turns erratic, breath quickening fast enough for his chest to beat up and down. Letting out a deep growl, Jeno comes to a still, mouth hung open letting a chopped up groan roll off his tongue. His cock thrums wildly against your inner walls, flooding your ass with warm white cum you’ve had poured inside of your cunt for weeks.

The little sounds dripping from his lips sounds anguished, whimpering when he thrusts in one more time to ensure his cums evenly painted your insides. “Love you so much..” 

His eyes fall shut, nose dug into your cheek catching his breath. The tips of your fingers tingle again, itching and burning to comb through his soft dark locks, to smooth the sweaty strands off his forehead. It feels like the right thing to do.. maybe with anyone else.

But you want it to feel right with Jeno..

He grumbles, littering kisses down your cheek to the corner of your mouth. “Gonna pull out, okay?”

You don’t respond, not even a nod, only hissing through your teeth as you gape and the now cooled down semen trickles out of your ass disgustingly, really cementing what you’ve just done. What you’ve let him do to you again.

Jeno hums softly, laying by your side without a worry, seeming pleased and full of life judging by the small smile on his face. “Happy anniversary teddy.” He reaches for your hand, scrabbling to entwine your fingers when you try to pull away.

“What’re you thinking about?” He murmurs, shifting closer to your side as you curl into yourself to get further away. “I don’t even have to ask. I’m sure I can throw out a wild guess..”

He lets out a long sigh, huffing a quiet laugh. “You’re not as good at masking your emotions as you may think.. You have to erase those old memories you have of Haechan. He’s not a good guy.” Jeno remarks, nudging his elbow against your side. “He’s a bad person.” 

“You are no better..” You accuse, a bit surprised, whispering with your mouth pressed against his bed. The last person you’re thinking about right now is Haechan(..maybe). Jeno’s smile only grows wider, tickled to hear you talking back finally.

“There’s a difference between me and him.” He says surely, slinging an arm around your waist, hooking his chin over your shoulder as he presses in close to whisper. “He changed to please everyone. I just don’t care anymore.”

“You’re both terrible people..”

Jeno sighs, smile still evident in his tone, leaning closer kissing your ear. “I love you.”

“Stop saying that.” You mutter, digging your elbow back to push space between you.

“Why would I do that?” Smoothing your arm down, he kisses the end of your jaw, licking your earlobe. “I love you, I know you won’t say it back, but that won’t stop me from letting you know that I love you.” He cozies up against you, yawning. “Get some rest, we have that test to pass tomorrow.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ 

Jeno has that look on his face again, the one that shifts from raunchy to feral hunger, the one that has him reaching to grab you in less than a second.

“I’m still sore..”

“I barely even touched your pussy.” He says cocking an eyebrow, phone dinging in his pocket over and over again. “Was I too mean teddy?” His palm swipes down the curve of your ass, cupping your buttcheek.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

He groans, smacking your butt lightly before reaching to free his phone.

“Shit, my dad’s blowing up my phone.” He huffs annoyed, swiping through paragraphs of text messages. Most yelling at him in all caps lock for not answering his phone. “He needs me to pick up some files from his home office, says it’s urgent. Something about an accident..”

Frustrated, he hoists his bag and adjusts yours on his other arm, nodding toward the end of the hall. “Come on.”

“Jeno, the test—I can’t!”

He sets you with a look that nearly makes you crumble, ready to succumb and follow his orders. “Please, you know my grades..”

Dragging the tip of his tongue between his teeth, he sighs deep and loud, pinching the skin between his eyebrows together. “Fine.”

What?

He looks irritated, upper lip twitching stretched over his teeth trying to control his anger. “But I’ll try to come back later to pick you up. If you take longer than a minute to reply to me, I swear to fucking God—“

“I won’t!” You almost add a ‘thank you’, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself. “I’ll keep my phone within view shot in case of anything..”

Jeno rubs at his temples, shoulders visibly trembling. “Fuck. Whatever. Fine.” 

He stops to take in your elated expression, cupping your cheeks, thumbs caressing your soft skin. “Don’t forget, I love you.”

You won’t say it back, he knows you won’t, but he waits for a minute, a flicker of hope passing behind his gaze. “Good luck on your test, I know you don’t need it teddy.”

He leans in and kisses you, full control on his end. Making a real show of it by shoving his tongue down your throat right in the middle of the hallway where everyone watches and whispers nasty remarks. He wants them to see, he wants certain people to see especially. Public display of affection had never been something you enjoyed, or even experienced before Jeno, but he made it something you had to learn to endure. 

“Be good.” He says quietly, warningly, slipping your bag from his shoulder. “I’ll see you soon.”

You nearly risk being late to class just to watch him leave, having to run to make it on time. The first time you’ve been alone in days, weeks even. Sitting down at your desk with a sense of relief, a crippling weight lifted off your spine. This test would be a breeze without him there to breath down your neck.

It is really crazy how you turn to the empty seat next to you numerous times though, fully expecting to see him there waiting for the next answer. Finishing off your exam without handing it over to Jeno to ensure he copied all of your answers felt odd, peering at your phone over and over again expecting notifications only to have none. 

So. This is life without him. Normal? Not anxiety inducing? Nothing to fear or worry about..

You should know better though, exiting your class blindsided by Haechan leaping in front of you, hooking his arm around yours. “You. In here. NOW.”

“Haechan?! What the hell!” You cough, waving at dust that lifts from the janitor closet floor. Cleaning supplies and clutter surround you, setting in how claustrophobic you feel when he slams the door shut and locks it.

“We need to talk. Right now.”

“About what?!” Pushing him off, you stumble back and glare. Watching his face fall at the sight of your anger.

“About this.” He says, reaching for the charm adorning your neck, flicking the teddy bear. “What’s this bullshit all about? What are you dating Jeno now?? What the fuck is wrong with the two of you.”

“The two of us?! There’s nothing wrong with me?! It’s your fault any of this is even happening to me!” You screech, slapping his hand away. 

“My fault?! You low lives are threatening to ruin my future and it’s somehow MY fault??” Haechan bellows, grabbing your upper arms. 

“Low lives?” 

He scoffs, shaking you with his firm hold. “Don’t change the subject! What the fuck if your problem, huh? Are you making him do this? You two need money that badly?”

Haechan could have just asked about your relationship with Jeno if he really cared. He would have noticed how different you’ve been looking and acting if he really ever cared about you.

“Everything’s about money to you..” you mutter, gaze hanging low. 

“To me?! I’m the one being threatened here!” He says in disbelief, burning holes into your face with a crazed look. “I don’t need any money from you or him.”

No. You don’t need anything, do you? Everything’s about you. You you you you…

Jeno was right all along.

“You seriously think I want your fucking money Haechan?!?” You shout, breaking out of his hold to shove him back. “What about me, asshole?!? Do you even give a shit about me! No, you don’t! Because I embarrass you that much, huh?”

“What are you even going on about.” Rolling his eyes, he grabs your wrists before you can pummel him with your fists, teeth gritted. “Of course I give a shit about you, why do you think I’m here?! He’s always hovering around you! It’s impossible to get near you anymore.”

“You’re only here because you think I’m weak.” 

“Weak?” Haechan repeats, tossing your arms down. “He’s really brainwashed you, yeah? Made you believe I’m the bad guy here? I’m not the one money hungry enough to destroy years of friendship over some petty jealousy!”

“He hasn’t brainwashed me.” You snap back, nearly adding a lie to make yourself feel better. He doesn’t talk about Haechan that much, and he’s not that jealous..

“Oh yeah? Than what the fuck is this?” His fingers aim for your choker again, sliding the tips under to press along your pulse. “Wearing a collar like a good little bitch?”

“It’s a gift.”

Haechan’s mouth parts in surprise, cocking an eyebrow. “You really like that psychopath, I can’t believe this.”

“Fuck you.” You bite back, wrapping around his wrists. “You have no right to assume anything about me.”

“And me? What about me, huh?” He says soft and low, leaning in closer. “I thought you liked me.”

“You did?” You ask, a bit surprised. You hadn’t made it that obvious, right?

“So, you don’t?” Haechan’s gaze flickers to yours, peering between each of your eyes confused. “Ever since we were kids I thought..”

“Do you like me? Did you ever?”

“Always, I always have.” He says surely, tugging out of your grip. “Not that it matters.”

“W-Why?” You stutter, feeling heat rush to your face. “Because y-you won’t do anything about it? Because I’m nothing but a low life, right?!”

Haechan steps closer, locking you in place against him with his arms tightening around your waist. “You’re not, okay? I’m just mad about Jeno..”

You hate getting angry, because you hate to show how weak you really are, cursing at the first batch of tears that pour from your eyes. You punch at his chest, letting out a tired sob. Tired because of this, everything, tired of holding onto something you never had. “It’s all your fault. He wouldn’t even care about me if it wasn’t for you.”

“What’s my fault?! That your boyfriend’s a certified nut job??”

“This isn’t about him! He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Oh yeah?” Haechan squeezes you in, inching his face closer to yours. “So, you won’t care if I do this.”

The same lips you dreamt about for years come closer, a breath away from finding yours. He pauses to watch your reaction, eyelashes fluttering up and down expecting you to do something to get away. Because Jeno’s girlfriend wouldn’t let another guy kiss her, especially not his new enemy.

It’s nothing like your dreams when he finally goes for it, he’s not soft and nice, he doesn’t move against your mouth like he belongs there. The kiss is rough, fast, sloppy, needy and aggressive. He sees his chance and takes it, sliding his tongue in past your lips as you gasp, lowering his hands to your ass with a fierce squeeze. His dreams had been to strip your innocence, watch your fall apart and scream while he fucked you deep. Nothing like the fairytale stories you’d imagined. Each pass of his tongue against yours indicates his desire, forcing your arms out of his hold to reach for his hair, fisting it and pulling as hard as you can.

“Ahhh! Ahh! Stop!” He whines, lips already swollen. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You sneer, coiling tendrils between your digits, pulling until his neck arches back and a high-pitched squeak breaks free from his mouth.

“I knew it.” He grits, eyes thinning into a glare. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”

“Is that what this is about?! You just need to have everything Jeno has?!”

“You are the one falling for that freak.” Haechan spits, slapping your ass. “Everyone knows Jeno fucks like a fucking crazed beast, you’re not as innocent as I thought.”

“I’m not fucking him.” Technicalities..

“Yeah? And why should I believe you?” He plays with the hem of your skirt, tickling at the skin there. “You say that you like me and yet here you are holding back. I think you’re a liar, trying to protect your crazy boyfriend..”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” 

“Yeah?” Haechan steps back, leaning against a shelf full of cleaning products. Reaching below his waist to unbuckle his belt. A bulge sits beneath his zipper, slowly lowering it with his eyes on yours. “Get on your knees.”

“What!?”

He snickers, shoving his boxers and jeans down under his balls. “I said get on your knees.”

He has the audacity to wear a cocky grin, tilting his head back onto the shelf as he begins to gently stroke his cock to full mass. You have to look, have to lick your lips at the sight of his length beginning to chub up in his hold. It’s not enough to subside your anger, marching forward to slam his shoulders back against the shelf. “Who do you think you are?!”

“A guy you like.” He says, voice low, staring at your lips. “A guy who likes you.”

This certainly isn’t normal by any means, you know that, but that doesn’t stop the extra skip in your heartbeat. Doesn’t stop your eyes from trailing down Haechan’s face to where he sucks on his bottom lip, letting it go and bounce shiny with spit. “Now.” Reaching for your mouth, he slides a thumb across your lower lip, pushing down on the fatty center. “Get. On. Your. Knees.”

There’s a cruel edge to his tone, watching you crumble and slip down onto the floor, eye-level to his length. “Don’t act surprised. This is what you want.”

You don’t know what to say, watching your knees settle on the ground before looking up. He strokes at his size lazily, the tip right between your eyes. Nowhere near as big as Jeno, that’s for sure..

“You’ve always had such a pretty mouth, always used it to talk so much shit.” He smirks confidently, bringing the tip closer to your pouty lips. “What are you waiting for?”

Haechan even smells rich from down here, clean, trimmed pubes, a slight musk wafting off his sack. Jeno’s a little different, he’s always hairless, always smells clean in a soft and inviting way. You think he keeps himself extra tidy to entice you more, but maybe that’s just him. Maybe this is just Haechan..

“D-do you have protection?”

“Huh??” He says, surprised, shrugging and reaching for his wallet. “Yeah, whatever.”

He sounds a little ticked off, flicking the condom at your pressed together thighs. Not putting up an argument either way. It’s been awhile since you’ve had to use one of these, and as you unwrap the package you start to wonder why.. 

Clearing your throat, you nervously reach to grip around the middle of his length. It’s not as heavy in your hold, not as thick, a lot smoother with less prominent veins. The condom rolls down fine, aided by a layer of lube that will surely taste disgusting sliding down your tongue. He’s hissing above you, eyebrows scrunched together focused on your hands and robotic expression, wondering if you’re lying about everything..

“Come on.” Haechan says desperately, reaching to thumb your lip again, a lot messier and more eager. “You want my cock, don’t you?”

Leaning in, you test the feel of it, sliding the tip across your upper lip. Slowly craning your neck up to watch his face fall apart. “Say it. Wanna hear you say it.”

He grips your hair, fingers tingling through your scalp, forcing your neck back further. Plump lips hang open above you, breathily moaning, stuck on his cock dragging your lower lip open. “Say you want my cock like the pathetic fucking slut you are.”

That flicks your eyes open fully, rising from your knees quickly with a tight grasp around his size. “What did you just say to me?!”

Haechan’s jaw hangs limp in shock, letting out a shattered moan when you pull at his length roughly. “Turn the fuck around.”

He listens without even trying to resist, grabbing onto one of the shelfs with your fist still circled around him. “S-sorry.. I thought..”

“Shut the fuck up Haechan.” Grabbing his wrists, you loop them both back and trap them in place against his lower back. Reaching lower with your free hand to smooth over his ass.

“Now, repeat that? What did you just say to me?”

He shakes, turning his face to the side to watch you from the corner of his eye. “Nothing nothing! I take it back!”

“Are you sorry?” You whisper, nipping at his jaw. Fingers skimming between the crevice between his ass.

The vibrations soaring off his body intensify, trembling harder, breathing through his nose gruffly. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He chants, breaking off into a whimper.

He doesn’t know what you wish he was sorry for. Delivering a slap to his ass and watching it bounce back against the collision, you hum lowly.

“Come here.” He’s easy to whip around, shivering from head to toe excitedly. Ankles weak to walk on as if he could cum already, making it easy to push him down onto the floor. 

“Fuck, you’re crazy..” he whimpers, laying back and kicking his legs to get his pants off. He looks more pathetic than the first time you ever met him, sobbing under you, crying for you to let him go. 

“It’s your fault.” You mutter, pushing your skirt and underwear off to mount his hips without restraint. “Wish I’d never met you.” You hiss, reaching for his chin to dig your fingers into his cheeks. He blinks up at your blearily, the bright light above you staining his face in a white translucent shade, eyes lost and glossy. He’s pretty, so so so pretty, makes your chest burn and ache. He’s always been pretty, eyelashes fanning across his cheeks slowly with each blink, plump lips shoved out for you to capture. 

“You’re so sexy.” He mutters, struggling under your rough grip. “If I’d known—“

“If you had known what?” You sneer, slapping his cheek hard enough for his head to snap to the side, eyes bewildered and surprised. 

“Fuck you’re..” he spits, bending forward at his neck to watch your core sit down on his length. “Ahh.. shit I’m still!—” He splutters, head dropping back, hips rutting up as you start to slide against his cock. 

It’s easy to take control and feel powerful on top of him like this, shifting back to grab his knees and push them up. “Stay still.” You demand, using force to push the pits of his knees down and hold yourself up. Haechan whimpers from the change in position, feeling small and confined under your figure sitting above him. 

“Fuck I’m—not gonna last long. You’re too much.” He’s such a whiny sniveling mess, drooling down his chin, cock twitching against your cunt.

“You like that?” Hoisting yourself up against his legs, you lift enough to line the tip of his cock up to your entrance, hips trembling as you begin to lower and breach your hole. 

“Ahhh! Fuck!” Haechan screams pretty, high-pitched, unashamed. His head tosses back fully exposing his Adam’s apple, dainty collarbones. He’s nothing now, nothing but a groveling whore begging to be fucked.

“Say it.” You say full of threat, struggling to keep yourself held up, clawing your nails into the sides of his knees. “Beg me to fuck you.”

The softest cracked moan spills from his red juicy mouth, face dropped to the side looking at you with half-lidded drunk eyes. “Please please, please fuck me.”

He’s nothing, and he could easily be yours.

It’s so easy to mount him, to bury the rest of his length inside of you. It’s less of a struggle to take him than you’re used to, filling you to the brim with a wet splash against his pelvis where you land. He whines and moans through it, making you work to ride his cock faster. 

Haechan looks brainless, gorgeous, stupid as fuck with his tongue hung out lavving at the drool pouring from the corners of his lips. Sweaty hands push yours off his knees, holding himself open wider to free your hands. The burn running up your thighs calms as you grab onto his chest and ball his shirt between your fists, short of breath the faster you work to fall into a rhythm. 

“Faster, come on, fuck me faster!” He grunts under you, voice loud and ragged over the thunderous clap of your ass crashing down on him. 

“Shut the fuck up whore.” You bite, reaching to wrap around his neck for better leverage. Pretty brown eyes go wide, gasping for breath as you tighten around his throat until his head shakes and he sounds empty of air. His cock thrums wildly, urging you to slam down harder, rock your hips faster. The veins along his forehead expand the more he struggles to breathe, mouth hung wide open like nothing but a dumb slut. “Only sluts get off f-from being choked.”

He nods weakly, coughing and groaning, sweaty fingers slipping on and off his legs. “Yes yes, ahhh g-gonna cum.”

“If you cum before me I’ll bite your dick off.” You spit out angrily, freeing his neck to clasp his chin and bury your fingers inside of his slutty mouth. “You useless slut.”

Haechan’s eyes roll back, tongue lapping between your digits, balls colliding with your ass with each heavy thrust. “Ah—ahh!” He gurgles and spits, making a mess around your fingers. “Pl-please!”

The hold on his knees slips free, arms flopping down to his sides, legs landing on the ground hard with rapid tremors shooting through. “Shit!” You grunt, stilling as his length pulses and warmth fills the condom, sliding off before any of it can pour out inside of you. “What did I fucking say?!”

Anger and arousal combined feel similar to a slasher film. Murderous and frightening, craving death around the corner as the music changes to warn you as the next kill approaches. Haechan lays under you out of breath, face covered in sweat and saliva, cock pathetically twitching against his stomach. “Selfish.”

Snapping the condom band into place, you settle back down on his length, making him shout out and shake his head. “No no! That hurts!”

“I said shut the fuck up.” Bending in, you reach for his hair, fisting handfuls to pull on and control the speed of your hips. So useless, so stupid and useless, you deserve better than this. Better than someone who can’t even control his own needs to make sure you both finish and reach pleasure. 

Tears brim his eyes as you rock down and roll your cunt against his half-hard soaked cock. The friction of creamy wet rubber rutting against his length more painful than enjoyable at this point, springing droplets down his cheeks. 

“You’re so weak.” He nods, has the nerve to agree with you. Biting down on his plush bottom lip to compress a sob, glossy eyes blinking tears out faster. 

The broken sight of him sends shivers up your spine, jabbing the tip of his cock against your clit in rapid motion until your hole convulses and draws out a much deserved orgasm. 

“Holy shit..” he wheezes out breathlessly, the back of his head hitting the floor painfully as you abruptly release him and move to the side.

Satisfaction courses through your veins, along with something else weighing heavy on your mind..

That was.. interesting. Is that the word you’re looking for? Interesting.

Patting the floor for your skirt, you immediately grab your phone. Jeno hasn’t texted yet. Even more interesting, something really must be wrong with his dad.. you should send him a message first. He might need you right now. Why the hell do you care about what he needs..

“Hey, let’s keep this between us.” Haechan disrupts your inner monologue, patting your shoulder. “Don’t need Jeno seriously spreading those photos around and whatever else he’s blackmailing me with.”

“Does your dad know about your drug use?” You ask, sliding your arm away from his touch.

He frowns, nose wrinkling annoyed. “Why the fuck would he know about that?!”

Because you’re a spoiled brat. Surprised that daddy even cares about his privileged son ruining his future, blowing his father’s hard earned money on more white shit to snort up his nose.

You shrug, buttoning up your shirt. “I guess you have a lot of secrets.” 

Like me. 

You are one of Haechan’s secrets if you think about it.. his secrets stemming from shame it seems. Because he’s ashamed of you, of the part of his life you remind him of.

“Whatever.” He scoffs, standing uncomfortably, nervously scratching his head.

“Don’t worry.” You reassure, picking up your belongings and grabbing the door handle. “There’s nothing your secrets can provide for me. See you later?”

His frown deepens, chewing on his bottom lip and shrugging. “Whatever.”

“Goodbye Haechan.”

You leave first, emotions unsettled and scattered as you walk down the hall to your locker. It’s nearing the end of the day, thankful that Haechan only made you miss gym class. Jeno always takes longer to fuck you, he likes to make sure you always get off, sometimes he doesn’t even finish..

Jeno. Shit.

‘Waiting for you by the north gate entrance.’

Shit shit shit. What the fuck. Jeno said he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to pick you up today, or that he’d try to, whatever. Not even a heads up?! Nothing to warn you??

Fuck, what if you smell like Haechan?! Knowing Jeno he’d be able to tell. There’s no way you can come up with something quick enough to get him off your ass, another text alerts you demanding for you to hurry up.

‘If you’re not out here in the next 50 seconds I’m coming inside.’

Fuck. You really fucked up this time, fear picks up your pace to jog through the hallway corridor faster, dodging your classmates bodies left and right until you near the exit short of breath and look out to see your… Jeno, stepping out from the driver’s seat.

“There you are.” He smiles, a big smile, the type that reaches his eyes. The one that’s for show, for others to coo and aww at. The one that garners close-to-ear whispers behind hands and eyes bouncing back and forth from you to Jeno.

‘Why her?’

Everyone asks, everyone wants to know. You never asked before, until one day the voices broke you down and found yourself constantly asking- ‘why me?’

You’d never ask Jeno, you never ask him anything.. but right now, as you nervously force your lips into a measly smile, the cramp forming in your stomach nearly makes you trip down the grass hill leading to where his cars parked awaiting you with the passenger door open.

“That’s funny.” Jeno says under his breath, leaning in to wrap around your waist. “You never smile at me.” He whispers near your ear, taking a step back to look over your face. “What’s up?”

The way his head tilts scrutinizing your face makes your chest cave, lips pressed together tightly as his eyelashes lower over his iris the more he lowers toward your neck; the collar of your shirt saves you of any fear that Haechan left behind any incriminating evidence of what took place less than an hour ago.

“Hmm..” Jeno reaches forward before you have a chance to react, tugging you closer by the fanned edges of your collared shirt. “Now why is your top button undone..”

He can see the way your throat jumps, hollowing out between your collarbones with each dry nervous swallow. “And your necklace.”

Your choker, he means. Fuck your choker. The lucid memory of Haechan angrily pulling on the teddy charm adorning the strap squeezing your neck makes your teeth grit, hidden behind your quivering lips. 

“Strange.” Jeno’s eyebrows gather together, the gleam in his eyes darkening despite afternoon sun illuminating down on him, highlighting every defined flawless attractive feature. “You’ve never disobeyed me this much before.”

“Wha—“

“You know you’re supposed to always have this uncovered. Why did I dip into my savings and risk getting chewed out by my dad? For you to try to make me a secret?” Jeno finishes buttoning your shirt back up, digits reaching beneath the leather to adjust the charm’s position while adding more pressure, losing the tiny centimeter of space between your neck and the material. “Did something happen while I was gone?”

“No!” Your reactions too fast, fast enough to fully widen his eyes, mouth tensed as he meets your gaze. “I—I had to.. to participate..”

“In what?”

“Physical Ed.. you know I always sit out with you.” Jeno watched your choice of physical activity: yoga, for less than a week before deciding this form of education benefited you in no way. Something about those ridiculous yoga pants you wear for class only seemed to distract a group of guys in the weight lifting class across the gym. He concocted doctor's slips for the both of you to sit out and study instead. “Coach didn’t let me today.. she said there's no way my period cramps last all month. I must have forgotten to fix my necklace after getting dressed, I’m sorry..”

Jeno nods, smoothing his thumb over your warm cheek, hot from anxiety rising the longer you stand there and risk the chance of running into Haechan on his way home. “That bitch. I’ll deal with her tomorrow.”

He pauses again, a contemplative look taking over as he reaches for your hair and smooths down fly aways. “No wonder you look sweaty. Must have been working hard, using all of your body and stamina.” Jeno’s tone lowers to a whisper, gently pressing under your lash line. “Even smeared your mascara..”

“I really should take a shower.” You say, managing to speak quickly without stutter. “Didn’t have a chance to after gym class and the air conditioning must have been broken or something in the homeroom.”

“That’s fine.” Leaning in, his nose presses to your jugular taking a deep inhale. “I like it, smell like you just got fucked.” Reaching for your lower back, Jeno moves you forward toward the passenger seat, the facade of a nice boyfriend(or whatever he is) vanishes with the turn of his head. 

You learned quickly to let him do what he wants after receiving nothing but hard stares to shut you down. Jeno wants things done his way, even buckling your seatbelt is his responsibility.

The engine vibrates as you wait for him to settle into his seat and back out of the parking lot, just barely missing Haechan’s exit by a few seconds.

It’s silent on the way to his home, tense and thick. Maybe it’s guilt, your guilt, guilt you can’t understand carrying to begin with. Why should you feel guilty? Does Jeno deserve that? Is it really because Haechan didn’t feel like Jeno? Because he didn’t make you relinquish control, didn’t make you feel special? Is that what Jeno does? He makes you feel like nothing else matters more than you?

Biting your nails raw, down to the rough neglected skin beneath until the tips of your fingers ache, you’re unsure if it's the silence that bothers you more or your spiraling thoughts screaming louder and louder. “Was everything okay? With your dad?”

Jeno comes to a stop at a red light, tapping the steering wheel, lips parting open into a half smile. “I didn’t think you’d ask me.”

He doesn’t turn to look at you, only glances from the corner of his eye, sleek and cold. “You never ask me anything.”

A dry breathy laugh passes through his nose, stepping on the gas again as you near the neighborhood you’ve become more familiar with than your own by now. ��Did you miss me that much today, teddy?” He’s grinning, stoically, and if you blink too long you’d miss the way his head shakes in disbelief. 

Shutting off his car, he turns and reaches for your chin to lift your face up. It’s your best effort to appear as nothing, not display an ounce of guilt or shame, but not smile or stare back too long— because that would be out of character. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

The gleam passing his gaze is damn near unnerving, adjusting your face side to side as if he’s inspecting for damage. “Did something happen while I was gone?” 

The most you give him is a barely noticeable shake of your head, gaze lowered to your lap, nothing too out of the ordinary..

Jeno leans over the space between you, turning your gaze back to him, digits spread out along your jaw for more control. “I think..”

He presses closer, forehead connecting to yours leaving just an inch of space between your nose and lips. Lips that left behind their moisture and shine on another man, a mouth that you fear may still carry remnants of his taste. “My teddy..”

Jeno’s lips graze yours enough to hitch your breath, shutting the seam of your mouth shut. That doesn’t stop him from cupping your face, overtaking power and pushing your lips forward with the pressure of his palms squeezing you in. “You are starting to like me more than you realize.” 

He kisses the swell of your pout, biting his lower lip for a second to admire how swollen and worn your mouth looks; as if someone has sucked on the fleshy fat roughly. Someone reckless who could give a shit about you. “Or at least more than you’re ready to admit.” 

Jeno lets go, leaving you gasping for breath as he sits back and studies your reaction. “Kiss me.” 

It’s not a question, it’s not even a demand, he’s too relaxed. It’s expectant, because you’ll listen to him, if you know what’s good for you; and you do.

There’s no way to crawl between the front seats without it being awkward, having to reach for Jeno’s thigh to keep yourself sturdy. He huffs to mask a laugh, turning away when you direct your pout toward his lips. “Kiss me the way you really want to.”

He knows you don’t want to, but he doesn’t know why; and maybe that’s where your guilt stems from because you can still taste Haechan between your teeth; and the pink flush spread across his mouth stirs a need up from your stomach to your chest.

“Go on.” Jeno’s head rests against his seat, eyebrows raised waiting. You manage to slip onto his lap after banging your knee into the cup holder, gripping onto his shoulders to align your weight onto his crotch. The same way he likes to hold you in the evening while playing games with your head laid on his chest. 

Jeno kisses you everyday, he kisses you. You could trace the shape of his lips with your eyes shut at this point, subconsciously you even notice whenever he reapplies chapstick from the light menthol scent and taste alone.

There’s something you’ve noticed over time as you lean in and breathe out nervously across his impatient mouth. Jeno never looks away first, he watches for your response to everything, silently analyzing the tiniest smallest movements. He has to, because you give him nothing, and he does it well. Even now with your eyes falling shut too nervous to look at him up close, he stays tuned in to your bottom lip trembling, the little twitch between your eyebrows and how much your hands shake while gliding up to his neck.

This shouldn’t feel like your first kiss with him, not after everything, but it does. You are the one in control for once and you’re the one applying pressure. Taking time to feel out just how soft his lips actually are when they aren’t roughly prying your mouth open to shove his tongue inside. The tightness beneath your palms even seems to relax the more you move between top and bottom lip, gently sucking and pulling them between yours. 

Jeno doesn’t move, he even lets his hands rest by his thighs despite itching to gather your waist and grind you down against him. He wants to see how far you’ll go on your own, especially after today; because maybe you needed this time apart, albeit only a few hours, but maybe you needed to be alone to understand just how much you need him.

“I’m not a good kisser..” you finish with a light as a feather peck at the corner of his mouth, dropping your face embarrassed. “It’s better when you do it.”

Oh? He perks up at that, giving into his desire with hands encompassing your waist. “You are good, you just..”

He rubs up and down your sides, letting out a long sigh while looking you over. “You don’t like me, right?” Jeno bites down a smile, nodding to himself. He knows you’d pour your soul into a kiss with Haechan, you probably dream of some ridiculously romantic rekindling of your relationship with some ridiculous scenario: fixing all the damage with one kiss..

“That’s not it—“

“You don’t.” He nods again, an accepting nod. 

And it’s okay, because you still have hope, somehow you still have so much hope that Haechan will save you from this. That your stupid childhood first love still carries you deep within his heart the way you always have, because you have so much good left inside of you in spite of every obstacle put in your way. Jeno likes that, that’s why he befriended Haechan in the first place, because good people are rare to come by.

But Haechan is not a good person anymore, and soon enough your spark will die out too.

“It’s not that Jeno..”

“Let’s get inside, I ordered takeout, should be here soon.” He says with an ordering pat pat pat against your hip, unlocking his door for you to exit first. “You hardly touched your lunch today.”

“Is it okay if I take a shower first?” Having to ask makes your stomach churn, mumbling behind the tips of your fingers finding their way back between your teeth to bite down on your nails.

“Stop doing that.” Jeno gently pries your wrists away, opening the door to his bedroom. “You never shower until after we fuck.”

“Like I said.. the air conditioning..”

Jeno eyes you skeptically, huffing and grinning. “You think I’ll care if you smell a little?” He’s back on you, encasing your waist as he bends in to drag his nose along your throat. “I think you smell sweet.”

“It’s not that.. I just feel gross.”

And you do, you feel extremely gross. More disgusted with yourself than you’ve ever felt after allowing Jeno to defile you. The more you try to push away what you’ve just done, the more unsettled you feel by all of it.

“You wanna change?” He places a light kiss upon your cheekbone, moving away to sit at his computer chair. “Grab whatever you want to wear. Don’t take too long though or your food will get cold.”

Part of you wants to stand there and argue, claim that you aren’t hungry despite the rumble your stomach gives at the mention of warm food; but a hot shower to wash away the remnants of Haechan’s spit and other fluids depletes any will to bother Jeno any longer. 

“Are you sure?” You ask, skimming over the drawers lined up against the other side of his bedroom. 

Jeno hums, already logging on to play league and waving you off. “Yeah, wear whatever.”

Showering in his bathroom had become very standard, like he said you typically prefer to after the act, but today’s different of course. His bathroom is much nicer than the community one shared by multiple people at your shitty studio complex. The studio you rarely spend much time living in anymore ever since Jeno forced his way into your life. 

There is something inside of you that sighs out of relief under the shower stream, stretching your arms out and up high freely, enjoying the quality of bath soaps and shower gels he keeps stocked. Jeno always smells nice, fresh and clean, not smokey and suffocating the way Haechan did..

The memory of his luxurious musky scent has your palms traveling lower, reaching for the shower head to thoroughly clean away any possible trace of him left behind between your legs. 

Jeno would go ballistic if he knew.. you aren’t even sure how he’d react, and you don’t want to find out.

“Food’s here?” You ask quietly, still drying your hair by the bathroom door connected to Jeno’s bedroom. He takes a minute to answer, engulfed in the game playing across his computer screen.

“Just got here.” Jeno says, hitting pause to look at you. His lips loosen, jaw opening as he gazes from your feet taking short steps forward to your bare legs and his pink hoodie hanging past your hips. “Wow.”

“What?” You pause, looking yourself over nervously. He said to pick whatever you want to wear, you even double checked with him. He can’t be mad right? Maybe this is his favorite hoodie and now—

Jeno’s eyes soften, scanning up and down your figure as he reaches out and rolls his seat forward to grab your hips. “You look really cute.”

“Oh..” heat drives up your neck, lowering your eyes to look away from the pleased smile that tugs at his lips.

“I should make you wear my clothes more often.” Jeno squeezes up your sides, drawing the fabric to follow his touch and lift over your hips. “Come here.” 

Leaning back, he motions for you to climb onto his lap, a bag of steaming hot food sits at the corner of his desk waiting. “But the food..”

He lifts one groomed eyebrow, responding with a silent command to do as he says before he makes you regret it. 

“We’ll eat first.” Jeno wraps an arm around your stomach, tugging your back to press against his chest as he reaches for the bag. “Put on whatever you want to watch.”

It’s times like this in his bedroom, as you ease into his hold and pout when he swirls noodles around a fork to feed you with that you can’t help but to feel something. 

Something you can’t bring yourself to accept, because that would make him right about everything.. 

That’s what makes it harder to eat, harder to sit still and let yourself grow too comfortable, harder to laugh when something funny happens on the TV show you chose. 

Jeno can’t win, even if he continues to prod your mouth with another spoonful of rice, and softly smiles before licking away a piece from the corner of your mouth. “You’re so cute.” He mumbles, pushing the boxes of food aside. “Turn around.”

“Do we have to?”

Large palms run up your thighs, squeezing as they find a way between your legs to the fleshy meat lined along the outsides of your groin. “You’re cute, but don’t test me.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･

Jeno’s been extra clingy ever since that day he had to leave earlier. You can’t say you hate it.. and maybe it gives you an excuse for why Haechan’s been completely avoidant, not looking at you once. You wanted to wave at him, say hi as you passed each other, but with thick biceps belted around you at all times you knew better.

He could just be ignoring you because of Jeno.

He could just be ignoring you because he doesn’t give a shit.

“Really do hate that I have to spend the next hour and a half without you.” Jeno sighs sadly, kissing your cheek. “Fucking hate Philosophy too.”

“It’s just one class.”

“One class that’s stealing precious time I could be spending with my girlfriend.”

There he goes again, that bullshit title he keeps using. It’s almost worse than his constant love bombs. “Second bells about to ring.” You mumble, shoving his arms off.

“Yeah yeah, I know you can’t wait to get away from me.” He pouts, leaning against the door frame, glancing behind you at the area he knows you often set up at. Eyes squinting as he observes one of your classmates. “I’ll be here when you’re done. Be good.”

Or else.

The silent haunting echo follows you to your seat, apprehensively setting your bag down with a subtle peak toward the door to make sure he’s gone. 

“How’s the research going?”

A deep voice startles you, jumping up and dropping your belongings. “Crap.”

“Ah, that’s my bad.” He crouches down before you’re even squatted halfway, long hands reaching to gather your brushes and pencils. “Was just asking how the papers going. I really think we should get together to make sure we’re both on the same page. I don’t want you to hate me if we get a bad grade..” 

“Get together?!” You splurt out abruptly, coughing on choked spit. “Outside of class??”

The thing is, Jeno didn’t really know about Jisung Park. Why would he? He’s not in this class.

He didn’t know that part of the reason you loved this class so much wasn’t because he’s not in it. No(although that helps). It’s because from the first day you noticed Jisung sitting quietly free-hand drawing beautifully, you wanted to compliment his sketches, get to know him better; ask if he’s always had an interest in art..

But you didn’t, instead you shyly hid your face and looked away whenever he’d glance around. Sure, maybe you happened to notice how attractive he is too, but that didn’t matter to you. It’s not like you had a crush on him or anything..

And it’s not like your stomach exploded with butterflies as everyone paired off for your final project for the semester, leaving you nervously taking steps back and forth looking for anyone available.

Jisung approached you first, asking quietly and shyly. ‘Do you have a partner yet?’

That’s how you ended up here, your norm for the last week being to sit by him during class so you could exchange ideas and work on your final project together. 

And that crush you didn’t have ended up becoming very very real. Jisung.. he’s nice, really nice. Genuine and thoughtful, he always asks how your days been, if you have any plans later on, tries to get to know you with curious and non-invasive questions.

It’s easy to bond over your love and appreciation for art, and he thought it was cool that you once dreamed of illustrating mangas(until capitalism and reality set in). He sparked light around the dark corners you hide in. Your secret, something only for you, something Jeno couldn’t ruin or touch..

“Yeah. You can come over to my place tonight? My parents both work late hours so we shouldn’t have any interruptions.”

An invite to his place, where you’d be alone. Only the two of you, no Jeno..

“Your place? Tonight?”

“Yeah? If that’s okay with you?” Jisung smiles apprehensively, reaching to scratch at his sideburn. “I’d like to keep my perfect GPA intact.. it’s okay if you can’t, I don’t mind completing the bulk of it myself.”

“No no, that’s not fair.” You wave him off, biting at your nail. “I’ll uhm, yeah—no, yeah, I’m free later. Write down your address.” Sliding him your notebook, you reach for your phone to text Jeno under your desk. This is for school, for your perfect GPA.. he needs to be understanding.

Jisung perks up and scribbles down where you can meet him after school, clapping his hands together. “I’ll set some snacks out for us, I’m sure we’ll be working hours into the evening.”

Hours into the evening.. Jeno won’t like that.

Jeno doesn’t like that. Immediately shooting down your messages with a flat out ‘no’.

It came down to begging, explaining to him on the way to your next class how important this extracurricular course is for your future internship applications, even your counselor said that. It’s not a good look if you only excel in your non-creative courses, unless you plan to apply for a job that requires zero social interaction and teamwork. 

‘Good luck with that.’ Your counselor mumbled, signing you up for this art class in the first place.

“The whole purpose of being here is for you to finish partnered work here.” Jeno snaps, shaking his head. “Who’s your partner anyway?! Why haven’t you mentioned this until now??”

“We only barely received the project yesterday!” You lie, looking at anything else but him. “My partner.. Hani!” Thinking fast you blurt out the first classmate you can think of, praying to yourself that Jeno doesn’t know her.

“Hani?” He repeats, seeming pleased to hear a girl's name. “And what time are you supposed to meet?”

It took further convincing, a little bit of bribery, maybe you skipped Yoga to suck him off in the bathroom. But it worked, Jeno seemed at ease after hearing that your classmate Hani was counting on this project to keep her grades up. Your scholarship requirements too, sure.

“Call me when you’re done.” He says, parking on another street nearby you’d given him directions to, just in case..

“Of course.. it might be late.”

Jeno grumbles, leaning over to kiss you until your lips feel bruised and tender. He kisses like it could be the last time he’ll ever see you, but that never makes you react. He always kisses like that..

“Love you.”

You nod, stepping out and waving him off, letting him know that Hani takes the bus home and you’ll have to wait a few minutes longer. He seems hesitant to drive off at first, only finally taking off out of the street when his dad calls him about something.

Phew.

Panic and fear get shoved down as you make your way to Jisung’s actual address. You shouldn’t be this nervous, it’s just a project..

With your crush, alone, together, only the two of you. That’s why you stand at the front door to his house for a while, shifting from foot to foot, playing with the strings of your backpack.

Jeno would be really mad if he found out about this. What would be worse? Lying? Or Jisung? There’s no way he would have allowed for you to come here alone, without him. Lying was your only option..

Taking a deep breath, you reach for the doorbell, gasping as it flies open immediately.

“You made it!” He smiles, toeing off his shoes, still wearing the same outfit from earlier. “I just got in myself, had to jump the backyard fence because I must have dropped my key, sorry. Were you waiting long?”

“Oh no.. it’s fine.” You mumble, passing through and removing your shoes quietly. He seems even taller now, walking next to him in nothing but socks. 

“You must be hungry, let’s raid the pantry real fast before heading to my room.”

His room, you’ll be alone in his room..

Jisung’s a couple of years younger than you, and it’s evident when you step inside of his bedroom and take in the different toys he has scattered about; moving around to throw his jacket over a pile of stuffed animals displayed in one corner.

“Shall we?” He says, motioning to sit at his desk, dropping the bags of chips and cookies he found. “I’ve already wrapped up the bulk of writing, and cited everything, we just have to go over key points for our presentation.”

“Oh, that’s great. Thank you for doing all of that.” You smile, sensing heat rise up to your cheeks. His parents must not use the air conditioning much..

He snorts breathily, shrugging. “You seem really busy, with your boyfriend and all..”

“He’s not my boyf—he’s,” trailing off, you shake your head and grab your notes. “Let’s focus on this so we can try to finish early.”

“You’re always with him..” Jisung sits up awkwardly, playing with his knuckles. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed anything. You’re right, let’s uhm, get to work.

To your surprise Jeno doesn’t blow up your phone with texts, and you think about his dad again. He never did tell you what happened that day.. he should share personal things with you if he expects you to start trusting him. To build some solid type of relationship with him. The skin around your nails practically screams and begs to be left alone as you bring your fingers up to your mouth and begin to bite at anything you can find. He should have texted you by now..

“Something wrong?” Jisung asks, ruffling his fluffy black hair. “You seem a little distracted.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“We’ve been working for two hours,” he nods, setting down his pen and organizing what you’ve finished so far. “Let’s take a break, I can really use one too.”

A break? Your eyes widen, following his figure as he stands and stretches his arms up, tight shirt lifting up his stomach halfway giving your curious gaze a real show. “Come on, our brains are probably in overdrive after a day of classes and now this, you should lay down for a bit.”

Lay down?!

Motioning to his bed, he smiles and directs you to follow with his chin. “Come on, I won’t bite.” He says sitting down, patting the empty space next to him.

Oh, but you might. 

Stealing one more glance at your phone, you set it screen down on his desk, getting up and pretending to yawn. “You’re right.. sometimes I don’t know when to stop.”

Jisung laughs lightly, falling back and letting out a long sigh. “Me too, my grades mean a lot to me. I’m trying to get an internship this summer at Lee Corp.”

“No way!” You say excitedly, staying sat up on his bed and leaning on your palm to look at him. “I am too! Which program are you going for?”

“Engineer of course, they pay the best out of everyone in the country. Did you read that Forbes article? Haechan’s father must be a genius.”

You hum, brushing off the comment about Haechan, he’s the last person you want to talk about right now. “I was thinking about Global Affairs.. I really think a lot of their apps could expand and excel in foreign countries.”

Jisung laughs, smiling up his eyes, clasping his hands together on his stomach. “Look at us trying to relax.. we still end up talking about work.”

“I guess you’re right.. I’m not the best at, uh, relaxing?”

Jisung sits up on his elbows, eyebrows lifted as he looks at you. “I could.. make some suggestions.”

“Uhhh..”

He lets out an awkward laugh, turning onto his side and scratching his neck. “Sorry, that was lame. It’s just uhm, since you said you don’t have a boyfriend, I’ve been thinking..”

Shit.

He sucks in his thick pink bottom lip, biting down nervously. “I’ve always thought you were real cute, but you’re always with that guy so I kept my distance.”

“You, y-you did?” You stammer, clearing your throat and sitting up straight. “Ah, that’s—that’s nice. I mean, thank you.”

Jisung sits up, long bangs falling into his eyes as he tilts and stares at you in a way you’ve never had anyone look at you. There’s softness in his gaze, exposing his teeth as he leans closer to your face, huffing under his breath. “I’m not good at this, but I’d really like to kiss you right now..”

Kiss?!? 

“Is that okay?” There’s a tremble in his voice, dipping in closer until your noses are less than an inch apart.

No. It’s not okay. You shouldn’t even be here right now. But isn’t it okay? Aren’t you in this relationship with Jeno against your will? Hasn’t Haechan been ignoring you for days? This could be your only chance at something normal.. someone who actually likes you for you.

Jisung’s heart looks damn near ready to break judging by the way his pout begins to droop, it’s instinct to rectify what you’ve caused that has you pressing forward; the first to brush your lips together. He lets a staggered breath free, moving to cup around your throat to deepen the kiss. It’s soft, nice, slow enough that you can process and absorb every small caress of your lips against his. 

“I really..” he sighs out a laugh, tapping the end of his nose to yours. “Could help you relax..”

You deserve this, right? Why even question it? You like him, he likes you, and a part of you fully expected(or wanted) this to happen.

“Okay..” 

Maybe the soft innocence radiating off of him is moreso the difference in your age. But there’s something about the way Jisung gently lays you down and places a pillow beneath your head. He kisses you again, and again, and again, slowly working your mouth open to allow his tongue to roam freely and explore. 

It’s nice and calm without overstimulating your arousal, not until his fingers trace along your throat, pulling back with a smile that asks for permission.

Assuming he expects more you squirm anxiously, helping him slide his hand lower down your stomach to the button of your jeans. “Can I?” He asks, again, always checking in to confirm you’re okay with his next move.

You help him by shimmying out of your jeans, allowing for his hand to dip inside of your underwear as you continue to kiss and arch up at the first graze of long thick fingers swiping between your folds. His hands are warm, movements fluid and practiced, collecting the wad of wetness at your entrance to rub over your clit and begin stimulating your nerves. You can’t help to think- this is how it’s supposed to be, getting to know your body first with soft strokes, feeling the different parts of you to learn what gets you off.

“Wanna eat you out.” Jisung whispers against your mouth, trailing two digits lower to press against your hole. “Wanna taste.”

You nod eagerly, much too eagerly, kicking your jeans off to the floor, lifting your hips to invite him inside. He rubs circles around your entrance teasingly, tapping a few times before pulling out to sit up on his knees and tug off his shirt. 

Jisung may be younger, but his body’s built nothing short of a man. Muscles line his stomach, arms firm and flexed as he pushes off his pants and climbs back onto the bed in nothing but a snuggly fit pair of boxer briefs. He pushes your top up under your breasts, hands large enough to hide the base of your stomach when they lay flat on top of you and begin to slide down to your underwear. “Like your panties..” he whispers, leaning down to trace the rose on your mound, making your hips twitch.

He likes them enough to not even take them off, laying down on his stomach to drag his nose down the damp seat of your panties. God Jeno would never— stop thinking about him. Stop saying what he’d do, he doesn’t exist. Jisung’s the one between your thighs, collecting your underwear to one side and taking a deep breath. “You’re just as pretty down here..” 

His deep voice makes your toes curl against the bed, bending your knees up to grant him more access. “Can I touch?”

Nodding eagerly, you lift your hips again for him to push your folds apart, groaning as his thumb presses to your clit. “Like it when I do that?”

“Yes.. use your mouth..”

Jisung groans, half whimpering, tucking his face lower between your thighs. Thick lips suction around your clit, sucking the nub between and flicking his tongue out. His slow polite manners dissipate the more he ruts against his bed and sucks around your bundle of nerves. “Taste as good as you look.” He murmurs, long tongue dragging down to your tight hole to lap inside. 

“You’re getting real wet.” He breathes out, cursing. Ducking back down to lick a fat stripe from your contracting wet hole to your clit. His tongue laves between your folds, spilling saliva and wetness across each, dipping his tongue in and out. He suckles on your clit, big hands splayed on your inner thighs pushing them further open to jam his tongue deeper inside.

You need more, fingers twitch midair before reaching into his hair and scratching at his scalp. “More!”

Jisung growls, shoving his face in until his nose digs against your bundle of nerves, panting against your opening with his tongue flicking against your inner walls.

He pulls back to glide two fingers inside, taking the chance to tug firmly on his scalp and shake your head. “Do y-you have a condom?”

Surprise paints his delicate face, appearing obscene with your arousal hanging from his chin. He nods quickly and jumps from the bed to slam open his bedside drawer and pull out a wad of protection. “I have a ton!” He scurries back onto the bed and grabs onto your knees, wide-eyed and dazed. “I mean.. do you want to?”

“Mhm..” you nod, sitting up to kiss up his neck, ripping the packet open and shoving your hand inside of his briefs.

You wish he would shut up just a little, favoring the breathy whines and whimpered moans he lets out when you finally wrap around his length and slide down the condom. 

Jisung kisses you again, sucking on your bottom lip until it swells, licking across the fronts of your teeth. He lowers you back down comfortably and shoves his boxers down, length jumping up and slapping against his stomach. 

“Y-you’re not like..” Jisung stutters, laughing to himself as he positions to line his cock up to your cunt. “Like a virgin?”

This is why you wish he’d shut up, gritting your teeth before forcing a smile. “Of course not.”

“Ah, figured.. wanted to be sure.” He takes a deep breath and cups your hips, inching forward slowly. “If it hurts—“

“I’ll let you know.”

It stings a little once he’s sheathed in half deep, he’s big, most of all thick. But the pain feels familiar, something you crave now.. 

“Come on.” You encourage, lifting your hips to fuck the rest of his length inside. “Fuck me, come on.” 

Jisung gasps, long and choked, falling forward and catching himself by grabbing onto your shoulders. He watches your hips cant up for a minute, literally riding his cock, pussy slapping against his pelvis.

“Fuck, oh my God..” he croons, sounding out of breath already. 

“Fuck me!” You beg, clinging onto his waist to scratch your nails down his flat tight stomach. “Please please, fuck me.”

Jisung snaps, nodding furiously as he crawls forward on his knees and hooks your thighs over his hips, throwing his hips into action to ram inside of you faster.

“Yeah yeah, just like that!” You whine, fucking him back to make him match your speed. 

His hands reach for your waist, slamming in harder until you’re gurgling and writhing in his hold. Cock sliding in and out so wet and deep, the pain completely gone, only receiving pleasure with each meet of your hips. 

It’s still missing something, something that has you reaching between your bodies to pinch your clit between two fingers. Nodding and panting for him to keep going. “S-so close.”

His palms land flat around the sides of your head, gripping the bedding in tight fists, using the leverage to drop his hips down faster. Fuck his cock in deeper and harder.

The sight of him above you, pale, muscular, black hair in his face, it’s enough to drift your mind away somewhere else. Shutting your eyes as heat burns up from your gut to your chest. Clit gone numb from your ferocious rubs, you twitch and cry out. The squeeze slowing him down as you clamp around him and begin to cum.

“Yesyesyes!” Through your blurry vision you can see him crumbling on top of you. Forcing his cock in past your tight heat, if not for how pitchy his moans sing out you’d swear..

“Ah, I’m c-cumming! I’m cu-cumming!” Jisung’s face tightens up, kissing the backs of his teeth. Hips locked in place, cock twitching as he fills up the condom with warmth. He pants and hangs his head between his shoulders, hips circling on more time before pulling out slowly. An audible pop resounds once he’s emptied you, flopping onto the bed by your side, stripping the condom off to give his dick a break for a moment, he throws it aside and lays back catching his breath. “No better way to relax than that..”

You wish you could say the same, already seeking your nails to chew on. That couldn’t have been too long, right? You need to check your phone, Jeno could have surely hunted you down by now if you’d even taken longer than a minute to respond. Maybe he’s really trying to respect your boundaries for once. Either way, you need to get out of here.

Tip toeing on to his bedroom floor, you step back into your clothes, quietly gathering your things to not wake him. Waking him could lead to conversation and more time you’d have to spend here..

There’s something you can only describe as guilt infiltrating your mostly pleased thoughts. Sneaking out of Jisung’s house was easy, scribbling off a note quickly that you’d see him at school later.

Jeno could be waiting outside where he dropped you off, you told him not to.. but he worries about you a lot. He’s always worried about you, it’s nice actually. It’s nice how much he cares about you, hell.. he checks in on you more than even your own parents. 

God. What the hell are you thinking? Who cares if he worries about you. He’s a fucking psycho is what he is. Why are you even thinking about him right now? After everything that’s happened.

Jisung’s really nice, he’s really smart, seems to have a good head on his shoulders. Yet Jeno.. Jeno feels like an infection you can’t find the cure for at this point. He’s everywhere, every time you shut your eyes, whenever you wake up, he’s the first person you think about, the first person you want to see.

This is ridiculous, you’re just tired, that’s it. Too tired to wait for Jeno to come get you. It’ll be best to take the bus back to your studio today, he’d probably make you go home with him and keep you up way too late. His bed may be nicer than yours, sure. His bathroom an actual personal bathroom, and as your ‘boyfriend’ he always makes sure you’re well fed. The grumble your stomach lets out doesn’t go unnoticed, ignoring it as you pick up your phone to shoot off a text message.

‘Really tired. Heading home. See you in the morning.’

Reading over your text before sending it, you chew at dry skin around your nails, dropping your hand quickly as if Jeno’s slapped it down again. He always does, reprimands you whenever you bite your nails or rip the dead skin off with your teeth. He does it because he cares about you, right? 

Fuck him. Seriously fuck that asshole.

Pressing your thumb down earnestly, you send the text and shut your phone off, bringing your thumb up to your lip to rip off an annoying piece of skin.

“Shit.” You hiss, shaking off your hand. More came off, opening a wound and stinging around the cuticle. Shining with red blood that rushed to fill up the divots around your nail bed.

Jeno would probably glare at you, raise your thumb to his mouth to suck on. He’d make it hurt less..

Brushing those thoughts aside, you pocket your fingers and tighten your jacket, making your way toward the nearest bus stop. He won’t like that you turned off your phone, he won’t like that you took public transport home instead of waiting for him, he doesn’t like anything really.

Except you..

It’s been a long while since you’ve taken the bus home, and it’s late, mostly empty. It’s hard to not notice a couple curled up in one of the two seaters, laughing at something on a phone together. Sometimes you watch things with Jeno, and you try to keep your amusement at bay, you try to emit nothing other than misery, but it’s become something you secretly look forward to these days..

Why do you keep thinking about him? What if Jisung’s texting you? Glancing at your blacked out phone screen, you wonder if he is, he could be.. Jisung seems to like you. He seems normal.. 

Normal could be nice. 

Normal.

Why can’t you and Jeno be normal? What if you are?

Coming home alone without him by your side seems odd now. This isn’t normal anymore, this isn’t your normal anymore.

Jeno is your normal. 

As you crawl into bed and take a deep sigh, you can’t help but to wrap yourself up tighter, curl up into a more fettle helpless position, and you can’t stop the tears that erupt from your eyes until they blur your vision and make your head pound. 

He should be here, he should be here to keep you safe and warm, but he’s not, and nothing feels normal anymore. ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ 

One thing about Jeno you’ve noticed is that he is always on time. He’s extremely punctual, and if he’s not, he always, without fail, will make sure to alert you with a call or text. 

Today’s different. 

Because even when you turned your phone on this morning and rubbed sleepy dry tears from your swollen eyes, no notifications from Jeno appeared.

Jisung had sent a few messages, thanking you for a great time and hoping you made it home safe. The last text you sent Jeno hadn’t even been opened, and his read receipts have always been turned on for as long as you’ve known him..

He’ll show up outside of your complex at 8 o’clock on the dot as usual. Maybe he forgot to charge his phone(that’s unlike him). 

But 8am comes around, and his car doesn’t round the corner, and minutes tick by, and he doesn’t show up. Each glance at your phone screen feels more like a plea for something, silently begging for a text or call to appear. Something to indicate he’s on his way, maybe traffic is heavier than usual today..

‘Hey. I’m waiting outside.’

You never add emojis. Keep messages as short and simple as you can. It would come across as too nice, too weird given the dynamic of your relationship, but that doesn’t stop your thumb from hovering over a smiley face before hitting send. Shaking it off, you watch the minutes go by, nursing the cut up cuticle you ripped off last night between your lips. If you don’t leave soon to catch the bus you’ll be late.

One more minute, you’ll wait one more minute before running to catch the next bus. 

‘Is everything okay?’

What if he got into an accident? Did Jeno even make it home yesterday after dropping you off? What if he’s in a hospital bed somewhere, disfigured, all alone without anyone to keep him company? What are you even thinking right now?!

It doesn’t calm your nerves a bit that he hasn’t opened a single text message you’ve sent. Doesn’t help as you cram onto a crowded bus and worry your thumb down to raw skin, biting every little piece you can get your teeth on. Doesn’t help that you can’t stop glancing at your phone, envisioning each terrible outcome.

He’ll be at school, he’ll be waiting at your lockers and walk you to class, sit by your side as usual. Throw out an assload of compliments that piss you off, stare at you and play with your hair. It’s fine, everything is fine, he’s a good driver. How could he possibly get into an accident? Jeno? Never.

But he’s not waiting at your lockers, even as you stand around longer peering up and down the hallway for him to show up. You can’t ask anyone if they’ve seen him either, it’s not like you know anyone to ask.

He’s not in your first class, doesn’t show up for second period, or third, and your phone never once dings with a new notification.

Even as your names are called out to grab attendance and you silently pray he’ll appear at the classroom door out of breath, finding your surprised gaze on him. A huge smile will stretch his cheeks into a bundle of wrinkles, eyes disappearing when he meets yours.

But that doesn’t happen, and in a panic you send off a slew of text messages, biting your nails down to nothing but raw skin.

‘Is everything okay Jeno? Did your phone die?’

‘I’m at school. Should I meet you for lunch somewhere?’

‘Are you sick?’

There’s no way to explain the fear clawing at your chest, the rumble in your stomach, the ache that pangs through your heart. It’s not because you care about him, he doesn’t deserve that from you, not even out of human decency. But maybe, just maybe, you are worried, because Jeno’s face has become such a normal part of your daily life. His light touches, a gaze that never loses sight of you, a powerful aura that wraps you up behind an invisible shield that makes you feel safe. As insane as it feels to even contemplate, you can’t help it.

He’s a disease, streaming through your blood, destroying all of your white blood cells and leaving you with no option other than to rely on him to survive. Some may even consider that love, if you think about it.

He sought you out in the first place, didn’t he? Took notice of something special in you that clearly no one else does. Like right now as you walk to your locker, head hung low, no one cares. No one’s looking at you, no one notices you or sees you. They always see you when Jeno’s by your side. He’s the bright light that illuminates around you, and you? You’re nothing. 

Jeno made you something though. He made you his.

How hasn’t he replied yet?!? What the hell is his problem! You’d scream if you could, that’s how desperate you feel, not even a god damn text? Nothing?!

You could always leave.. take the bus to his house. It’s possible he is severely injured after all, his parents might not even have a clue. It’s the least you can do, at least inform them that their son’s on his deathbed because of a horrific accident. Because that’s the only logical explanation you can fathom for why he hasn’t attempted to contact you even once since yesterday. It’s your fault too, if he really got into a bad car wreck after dropping you off. Yeah, you should definitely take the rest of the day off, it’s the right thing to do..

Adding speed to your steps, you rush toward your locker to grab your bag, prying it open quickly and nearly missing the folded note that slips out. A note.. with very familiar handwriting. A note in your locker after all this time, exactly like the ones you used to receive..

‘It’s been awhile hasn’t it angel? I haven’t felt the need to speak to you like this in such a long time now it seems. We have grown so close now, there are times I catch your gaze wandering away from me. I realize in those moments how much I’ve truly given up for you.

I lost my friends, carry guilt on my back of getting caught; that Haechan will find the courage to snitch me out.. The chance of my father disowning me for ruining his one chance to free himself from this impoverishment. In those moments I know you look away silently praying for someone to save you, when really, it’s been me all along.

I’ve only ever wanted to save you because you deserve better than this. I’m waiting for you, I know you’re smart enough to find your way.

-Your Teddy Bear’

This has to be a sick joke, you fully believe this has to be a sick joke; but your lip twitches, your tongue presses to the fronts of your teeth, and you can feel moisture itching at the backs of your eyes.

Jeno hadn’t picked you up today, he never sent a message to explain why. The last he’d spoken with you was on the car ride over to Jisung’s, and even then you never said much. He hadn’t said much either if you really think back, stay silent for most of the drive.

The last place you want to revisit is room 0423 after that day.

‘I’m waiting for you.’ 

Stoic and zombie-like your feet drag through the halls finding your way to the abandoned sector of the school. Because he’s waiting, and like a fool you’ve been waiting for him too.  

You couldn’t process a thought, mindless as you found your way in front of the door that read 0423 before you. At this point there isn’t much else Jeno can pull to surprise you. Probably planning a setup of some sort to commemorate the day he met you, since it matters to him so much.

“Don’t act shy and stand out there forever, I’m waiting.” His voice echoes through the small opening, leaving the door cracked enough for you to know to come inside.

Everything appears to be the same as you remember, other than the giant teddy bear Jeno gifted you sitting at the teacher's table, his back facing you from where he sits on one of the student desks at the front row. 

“Took you long enough to show up. I expected you’d be sick to your stomach without me, buried with your face in a porcelain bowl. Although, I must say, your messages have been quite entertaining.” Jeno begins to speak, his back muscles flexing as he laughs sarcastically. His neck bends forward, nodding to himself. “I won’t lie, I didn’t expect even that much from you. I dare say, you seemed frantic, worried even..”

“Why did you want me to come back here?” You ask softly, inching closer to where he sits. Jeno listens to the sound of your sneakers drag against the linoleum floor, he listens to your calm breath, he listens to your nails scratch by on each desk you pass, and he smiles stiffly.

“You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?” Jeno’s teeth grit, fisting a remote control in his grip. He stands up abruptly in a way that startles you. Instinctively lifting your fists to cover your face as you gasp. Rolling his eyes, he grips onto a curtain near the corner covering up an old school television, and he turns to face you. 

If looks could kill, you know that you’d be laid out on the floor bleeding out right now. He bores into you with a laser sharp gaze, slicing through your chest with a level of intensity he’s kept calm for weeks. 

“Answer me.”

Jeno’s throat shakes, his knuckles saturated in white, cuts of blood red and hues of pink from punching who knows what or who.. and for a quick second you think he may cry as he rapidly blinks away moisture that’s teetering at the brims of his eyes.

“No Jeno.. I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“I’ve never liked when you lie.” He nods, sniffling loud and hitting play. “You always look dead behind the eyes when you lie, did you know that? Because even you know that deep down inside no matter how much you hate me, lying isn’t your style.”

The black tv screen illuminates, a dim video of sheets that make your eyes squint, familiar..

“Is that—“ the camera zooms out before you can even speculate, cutting off your breath. “N-no—there’s no wa—“

Jeno sneers, dragging the back of his hand across his eyes and nose. He turns the volume up until your pleasured moans resound throughout the classroom, cascading down the walls and your frame like lashings. The camera doesn’t bother to focus on Jisung once, zoomed in on your face, your mouth hung open, the lines formed between your eyebrows.

“H-how..” bile rises up your throat, stepping back until your butt meets the ledge of a desk. There’s no way Jeno could have known, how HOW could he—

“I know what you’re thinking.” He says smoothly, the tears dried up and gone. Spinning on one foot to face you and waved the remote in your direction. “You thought he really liked you, right?”

“N-no it’s n-not that—“

“What did I tell you about lying?” He grite, placating you with a cold hard stare. “I could have saved us the trouble of dealing with any of this. I knew from the second I saw you talking to him in class, I knew from that moment. You looked so happy.” He scoffs, head shaking, pausing the video. “You looked so fucking happy and hopeful, the same way you looked when I saw you talking to Haechan in the library before.”

He takes a deep dramatic breath, tossing the remote aside, arms free to cross over his chest and lock you in place with one of the most fear-inducing looks you’ve ever seen. “You never look at me like that. You never even tell me that you love me, and you pretend..” Jeno shifts back, turning his body away from you. “You pretend to hate me.”

Everything inside of you screams to say something, to tell him that he’s wrong, that you do hate him. But there’s that pain in your chest again, the one that feels worse than any pain you’ve ever felt, worse than when Haechan moved away and slowly forgot about you. Worse than when he ignored you after you had sex..

It’s a pain that only Jeno can pull out of you. It’s denial, hate, love, anger, fear, obsession, worry, and right now, that pain fills you with terror. He knows, and more than worrying about what he’ll do to you, you can’t stop the tears from flowing out at the thought of losing him. 

“I-I’m sorr—“

“Stop.” He snaps quickly, fully turning away and motioning to the classroom stock closet. “You can come out now.”

Through your bleary vision, you see him come out, big smile, broad and tall. Cocky as he clasp hands with Jeno and shoots you a wink over his shoulder. “You’ll send me a copy too, right?” 

“Get the fuck out.” Jeno jeers, crashing his shoulder into Jisung’s side. “Good job though, the money should be in your account.”

“Yeah of course man, anytime.” He smirks before turning to face you, winking as he makes way to pass by you. “And you, I really did have a good time last night.” He leans it quickly to whisper. “If this weird shit you have going on doesn’t work out, you know where to find me.”

“Please…please!” You stammer, feeling overwhelmed and overheated the longer you have to listen to yourself get fucked through all of this. Every bit of confusion struggles to clear as your mind rages and grows heavy, painfully beating through your skull. “Turn it off! Please!”

Jeno snickers, ripping the TV’s power cord out. “Not that you deserve peace of mind right now.” He mumbles, petting the teddy bear he gifted you on your anniversary. “What were you thinking?”

“I..” 

What were you thinking??? Obviously you were thinking that your classmate who you’ve secretly had a small liking for may have a small liking for you in return. There’s nothing else to say, you fell right into Jenoms trap, you always will..

“Don’t answer that.” He says, turning toward you with an unrelenting penetrating gaze. “I know what you were thinking. I always know what you’re thinking.”

He steps closer, trapping you against the desk holding your weight up. Weakness takes over your ankles and knees, dropping head head to hang, too ashamed to even look at him. More embarrassed than ashamed.. why should you feel ashamed?

“You thought a guy like that could seriously like you? What’s it going to take for you to learn this lesson?” Jeno continues, voice cutting deep and sharp. “No one here will ever like you except me. Jisung may pity fuck you out of boredom, but he’d never bring a girl like you home. He’d never take you serious, he’ll never give a real fuck about you.”

“T-this whole time..” you stutter, biting down on your lip. “You k-knew this whole time.”

“Pft.” He bends in to meet you eye level, still standing straight to loom over your slouched frame. “I’m always watching you.”

Jeno’s tongue clicks, whistling lowly, taking a step back to snap his fingers in a sarcastic manner. “You know who else could give a shit about you? Haechan.” He nods, finding your red wet eyes. “Haechan who hasn’t acknowledged your existence ever since that day.”

“N-no..” tremors vibrate up your throat, gripping onto the desk beneath you to keep yourself up. “There’s no way..”

“I had a sliver of hope, you know?” He sighs, rubbing at his temples. “I thought maybe you finally understood that Haechan could give a fuck about whatever it is you used to have. That stupid childhood friendship you cherish and hold onto still.” He pauses to look at you, blinking glassy eyes away. “I can’t trust you, even after all that I do to prove to you that you belong with me.”

“This—this isn’t—“

“Haechan—he’ll never love you, he’ll never see you as anything more than some poor loser from his past.” He interrupts, hissing between his teeth. “Jisung, even fatter chance. I’ve explained this to you so many times now. When will you get it.”

“Why are you doing this to me?!” You screech, louder than you even thought possible. Tears rush towards your chin, digging your nails into the cheap old desk wood. “Why me?!?”

Jeno scoops your face, thumbing your wet cheeks softly, almost gently. His own eyes shake, pouring out from the corners. “Because.” He breathes in deep through his nose, wet voice coming out shattered. “I love you.”  

I love you I love you I love you. Those three words repeat over and over again, a face full of anger turning into one you can hardly recognize anymore, fingers dug into your cheeks as if he can somehow force you to believe him this way. It hurts to watch more than anything, as Jeno crumbles and falls to his knees, arms wrapped tight around your hips screaming manically that he loves you.

He. Loves. You.

Haechan doesn’t love you, and a guy like Jisung could never love you..

He’s right. Jeno’s right. He’s been right from the very beginning. You could have listened, avoided all of this? The normalcy you wished to have with him, whatever that could have been.. if it ever could have been.

“Why won’t you love me?!” He sounds broken, distraught, hopeless. The hug around your lower half burns, feels like you’ll never be free, you’ll never get away from him.

You don’t want to get away from him anymore.

“I love you, Jeno..” you can hear your voice empty of life as it exits your lips. The image before you too blurry to even make out past your tear-filled gaze. “I love you.”

The grip on your hips loosens, tears calming to a round of sniffles, he stops shaking and slowly lifts his face to look at you. “Say that again.”

Cold, emotionless, demanding. That’s the tone you’re used to..

“I love you.”

Jeno stands back up, quickly cleaning his eyes off with the heel of his palms. A large smile altering the anger and sadness he just displayed seconds ago. “My Teddy.”

He rambles, words slurred together as you fail to process anything that’s just happened. Could this have ever been normal? Or is this simply who Jeno is? He’s obsessive, crazed, dominant and deranged. 

“I know you love me.” He sighs happily, tugging you in close and rubbing along your spine. “I knew when you made Jisung put on a condom.”

The way spit clogs up your throat at that makes you choke on your next breath, Jeno’s laugh rumbling against your chest as he pats your back to help you. “I thought so after you made Haechan use one, but this really confirmed it. You wanted to hurt me, wanted to make me jealous..” his voice lowers, shifting to whisper in your ear. “But deep down inside you know I’m the only one you want to fuck you full of cum.”

There’s no point in questioning anything, you know he hates when you do that. You know that he has ways to find out things that you can’t begin to understand. “I know baby, that’s why I had to replace your prescription too. Those mints you always popped in your mouth after eating lunch. It’s cute how you play these little mind games with me..”

Mints?! The birth control you started taking after.. that first time. You knew he was evil, mentally deranged, but fucking your with medication?! 

“M-my mints??” You ask in disbelief, having to bite down on the backs of your teeth to stop your jaw from hanging.

Jeno waves a finger at you, tapping your nose. “I don’t believe in that birth control shit.”

And there it is, the same Jeno you became familiar with in this very room. The same one that turns your dreams into nightmares, that makes you look over your shoulder constantly, the one that’s imprisoned you in this inescapable hell. 

“It’s cute how you still think you can out-smart me.” He says sternly, pinching your chin. “But nothing about your constant lying is cute.”

He leans in close, eyes wide open taking in your despair, licking up the tears that seem endless. Everything, all of this, you were never going to win. Winning was never an option.

“You’re so special to me.” Sucking at the droplets dangling from your chin, he nips up your jaw to swallow your earlobe. “So special and real, remind me so much of him. Who he used to be.”

Because that’s really what this all boils down to. You never willingly fell for Jeno’s charms the way everyone else does, he had to force this, and even then you didn’t give. You held on to the last bits of yourself that remained raw and real, you chose to love and accept who you are even when he diminished your worth. And that drove him crazy, tickled him in places he forgot existed, reignited those memories of who his best friend once was.

“I love you.” Jeno repeats, whispering just for you, not that anyone could even hear your screams here from room 0423. No one heard you the last time, no one helped, no one cares.

“I love you too.” The tears that pour down from your upper lip could come across as tears of joy. From an outsider's point of view this could look like the happiest moment of your life. Sharing confessions of love with your boyfriend, a handsome young man who can only be described as obsessed with you, but they aren’t happy tears; and as Jeno grins, squatting down to scoop you up, you have to swallow the rancid bile rising up your throat. Laid back down on the same desk he first had his way with you on, the same place he made you shut up and take it.

It’s crazy and out of body when Jeno’s palms drag down your sides, unbutton your top and reaches under your back to unhook your bra. He’s done it many times, it’s muscle memory at this point removing your clothes. Each small drag of his fingertips feel more chilling, crashing waves of shock throughout your system. Even as he strips you nude and licks down your inner thighs you lay there stoic, gaze unwavering from where he stands between your legs taking time to stroke over your figure.

“What’re you thinking about teddy?” He coos, kissing along the tender skin lining your inner thigh. “You look like a lot is going on inside that pretty head..”

What are you thinking? You’re not thinking much of anything. Unable to process a singular thought as you watch him bend in and kiss down the center of your sternum, trailing down to your navel. There’s nothing else you can say right now, nothing else you want to say as tears collect and spill over, running down to your ears. 

“I missed you, I missed you so much.”

Jeno slowly cranes his head up to find your tear-filled gaze, he slowly reaches to cup your face, slowly smiles. It all seems too slow in comparison to the breakdown you’re having. Shaking down to the tips of your fingers and toes, body wracked with sobs as he sits you up and thumbs at your wet cheeks.

“Did you sweetheart? You missed me?” 

“Y-yes!” You cry out watery, throwing your arms around his waist to pull him in close between your thighs. “You left me, you didn’t come. You always pick me up, you’re always there.”

Jeno falls silent, basking in your misery, savoring the wash of success that rains down on him. He’s broken you, dropped each piece of the puzzle only to reassemble it the way he wants. Broken, fixed, he did that, made you his and only his. His hands reach under your top, stroking up your spine and cooing in your ear. “I’m always there, I’ll always be there.”

That’s his promise, that he’ll always be there for you. He’ll always watch out for you, even if it’s not in the traditional romantic way you’d dreamt of as a child. It’s still special, you’re still special to him. And that’s enough, that’s really enough. Because your body calms down, and your nose finds comfort in his clean scent, eyes falling shut as you begin to relax under his touch.

He straightens out to kiss your cheeks, smooth your hair away from your face and take in the sadness streaked across your iris. It’s sadness with a hint of hope, a hint of something he’s never noticed before. You’re finally looking at him like he means something to you, and that makes Jeno’s chest swell. Heart beating rapidly as he leans in to catch your lips and suck on each until they blister under his bites.

He never kisses you softly when you’re alone, and maybe you like that. He’s passionate and rough, takes control of your mouth and tastes through every little crevice inside. He always tastes good and lingers on your tongue for hours throughout the day, but you like that. You need to feel him, smell him, taste him, belong to him. You need him to remind you of who you belong to when you start to stray and seek attention from anyone else.

“Would you hurt me?” You asked him before, and as your eyebrows crush together while kissing him you have to ask again. Because Haechan hurt you, he hurt you so bad. Jisung hurt you, he hurt you more than he’ll ever know. But Jeno.. he can’t hurt you. If he ever hurt you, there’s no way to predict what you’d do..

“Only if you hurt me.” He says in a serious tone, pulling back to look in your eyes. “You won’t, not anymore. You love me.”

“I—I do, I love you.”

It’s final, it’s your love story. Here in room 0423, the school you worked hard to get into, the scholarship you stayed up late day and night putting in extra credit for. All of that led to this moment in time with Jeno. Led you to your destiny, to the man that loves you.

“I know teddy, I’ve always known.” Taking your hands, he kisses down your fingers from the tips, spending extra time on your knuckles, turning them to drag his lips over your palms. “I have plans for us, our future.”

Plans. Future. Whatever that means.. you’re just happy to be here with him. To let him place your hands on his cock, laugh quietly at the way your fingers can barely wrap around him. “You’d never ask me to wear a condom.” He mumbles. He’s proud of that, says it in a boisterous tone.

“Never.” You agree solemnly. 

That’s the best part of this victory. You were never a simple one time fuck, you were always meant to be more. He had to break you down beyond whatever voided space sex could fill, had to ensure your only need in life should ever be him.

It’s easier to lift your legs up and prop your feet on the desk, fully exposing your core. You still whimper and hide your face, still give off a facade of not wanting it. 

He wants you to watch, see every second of him filling you up from inside out. To know that your body belongs to him, that he made you this way. He slaps your thighs to get you to hold yourself open, grabbing onto the base of his cock to stroke. Free hand finding your hair to ball up in his grip and keep your neck bent down. “Want my cock sweetheart?”

Jeno shakes you by the tuft of hair in his hold, nodding your head up and down. “I know the small little dicks you let fuck you weren’t shit.”

The way your hips stutter at that and wet arousal bubbles from your hole makes his cock twitch, inching closer to pick up a dollop of your slick, spreading it up to your clit with the tip of his length.

Thankful for the rubber sole of your shoes keeping your feet in place, you moan, biting it down still out of habit. His cock is nice, thick, covered in large projected veins. The fat pink tip dips in past your clenched hole, forcing a gushing wet sound to echo throughout the classroom. It should be humiliating but your body says otherwise, squeezing out more of your arousal with each teasing prod of his cock.

He plays with you like that for a while, to get you desperate and needy the way he likes. Cockhead probbing in and out enough for the mass of his bulbous tip to disappear inside of you. 

“J-Jeno..”

That’s it, that’s what he likes to hear. That shattered little way you say his name. He bends in again to lick your cheek clean, dragging his lips to your ear. “Don’t take your eyes off my cock, if you do I won’t be nice.”

That’s how he talks to you, none of that lovey dovey shit when you don’t actually want it. He talks to you like you’re dumb, like you need to be told what to do, and sometimes you do. Times like these when you relinquish all control of yourself and let him turn you into a puppet, you need to be told to speak and listen, to watch and enjoy. He’s good at that, at making you feel small when you need to.

Weakly nodding, you scoot back to get a better grip on the backs of your upper thigh, hold yourself fully open for him. It’s commemorative being here like this again, on this desk, watching him begin to slowly push his fat girth in. 

His hands travel down to hold your cunt open, making it stretch even more as you take and take. It always hurts a little bit trying to take all of his length at once, a good hurt, the type the tingles from the end of your spine to your brain. Watching it split you open this up close makes the pain even more surreal, drooling from your mouth like a starved animal. Pussy drooling around his cock the more he buries in, skin pulled taut around the thick shaft.

“Do you see?” Jeno says deep and raspy, pushing in more than half of his mass already. He fingers your clit for a minute, watching your hole convulse around him. “See how damn good you take it baby? You’re so good for me.”

“Unnghhh..” you wanna kick your legs out, throw yourself on him, wrap your arms around his neck. You have to wait, be patient and watch the rest of his size push in. “S-so big.”

“Was made for you.” He says clearly, through the fog clouding your ears. “Was made to fuck you teddy, that’s why I feel so good inside of you. We’re perfect for each other.”

Hearing that makes you brain melt, dropping your head to hang only for Jeno to wrap around your throat and lift your head up, burning you with his fierce gaze.

“When you kissed Haechan,” his hands constraint around your neck, jerking your head to look at him. “Was your body still screaming for me? Is that why you missed me?”

When he says he knows everything about you he really means it. Down to the infestation of emotions crushing your soul everyday. He knows you’ll never be able to recover from what he’s put you through, you’ll always be addicted, crawling like a fiend for the next hit.

“You were thinking of me, that’s it right? With your lips pressed tightly up against his skin.” He says in the most condescending tone, dragging the tips of his fingers up your jaw while keeping a tight clasp around your throat. “Was he even worth the fuck?”

In the end, he wasn’t, your eyes tell Jeno everything he needs to know. The ache and lust, pangs of guilt muddled between. “Did he fuck you like this?” 

The rest of his length sinks in, thrusting in the fat base of his cock ruthlessly, nearly losing your balance if not for the chokehold he has you in. “He’d never fuck you like this, not the way you need. Nobody ever will.”

To drive it home he pulls out completely, making your pussy gape wide open and dribble a wad of wetness out that spills onto the classroom floor. You want to agree with him, tell him that he’s right, that he’s the only one that will ever fulfill your needs now, coughing and blubbering your whimpers as you try to inhale. He fucks into you like a rabid feral wolf, plunging his cock in and out all the way to hear your gurgled scream. It hurts it hurts it hurts, it hurts so fucking good.

The more animalistic he becomes, the more your skin drips with sweat, straining to keep yourself in this position on the desk. Legs more like jelly as your feet begin to slip and your ass slides forward. Jeno only pummels into you faster, determined to rip through your womb, leave a mark on your cervix. 

He grunts wildly, releasing your neck abruptly to wrap around your waist and cup your ass right as you nearly fall off the desk. Each thrust inside feels more erratic than the last, diving his cock in deeper than you’ve ever felt anything reach. He’s relentless, growling through it all, exerting power and anger as he hoists you up by your ass and your legs wrap around his hips limply.

“Fuck my baby into you.” He grunts furiously, throwing your body up and down on his cock. Hand prints bloom on your throat, dropping your head back to let out a howling moan, crying out for only Jeno to save you now. For Jeno to do whatever he wants with you.

Your cries has him laying you back on the desk, needing to see for himself how broken and pathetic you look. Hauling your thighs to wrap around him securely to not lose an inch of warmth blanketing his length. He pounds in balls deep, the clap of his sack meeting your ass resounding throughout the room wet and loud, making your legs tremble with each barreling thrust.

“Yeah? Fuck you full of my kids.” He growls, reaching for your shoulders to really lose it on you. Jerking back up the desk by each violent smack of his hips crashing down on you. It’s the crazed look in his eyes that hurdles you back into the last time, catching the faded sound of your pleading, of your denial. Screaming out no no! Over and over again, only for him to ignore you, have his way and ruin you for anyone else.

“P-please—“ you cry, squeezing around his meaty girth as much as you’re able to, feet dangling bonelessly behind him. “P-please, make me y-yours.”

It could have been this way last time, wanting him to have you instead of begging him to stop. It could have been normal, but the two of you were never destined for that. You were meant to be his as much as he was made to be yours. The wet smack of his balls turns messy, the looming broad frame mounting you losing his composure as you look up at him and more tears trail down your cheeks. 

“You always look prettiest when you cry.” Jeno grits out, falling down against you to slam home a few more jerky thrusts. Cock spurting out enough cum to surely knock you up, pushing it in deep with each digging swivel of his hips and he grabs onto your chin and laps your hot cheek clean of tears.

“Might have to keep getting you pregnant after this..” he mumbles, kissing the swell of your lips. “Fuck your ass in the mean time while you’re knocked up. I know how my teddy likes it..”

It’s hot and sticky between your bodies, nodding slowly at what he says, you suck on his thumb until both of you have calmed and caught your breath.

He’s not just inside of you, he’s seeping from your pores, infiltrating your nervous system, tearing you open from inside out. Each exhausted breath he takes lines up to yours, blinking simultaneously, twitching through the aftershocks of your orgasm at the same time. He’s yours, and you are his. One soul, one heart, one love combining you.

“I love you.” He pants, reaching between your sweaty bodies to smooth his palm over your extended stomach, bulging out with his cock lodged in so deep. “I love us.”

Jeno did more than ruin your life. He destroyed everything you’ve worked hard for. Shattering your hopes and dreams, demolishing any type of independence you strived to achieve, he stripped all those dreams away. 

He’s your new dream. 

“I love you too.” 

He hums, shifting to bracket your head with his biceps, littering gentle kisses across your wet tear-stained cheeks. “I know teddy, I know.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･

There are many ways you envisioned the future. Flying cars, trains that can get you from one side of a state to another at the speed of light, maybe even actual superheroes.

You can even recall sitting side by side with Haechan reading Uzumaki after the fight you had that brought you into each other’s lives in the first place. If you hadn’t wanted to read that damn manga so bad, if you had just shown up at the comic book store any other day. He had sat there with you, thigh pressed to yours, bangs too long and shabby, flicking up with each blink. 

You thought it was nice, to like a boy, to have a crush. It was nice to go home and giggle while brushing your teeth, sent off to dream after your mom tucked you in. Haechan had appeared, the Haechan he’d grow up to be someday. The Haechan you wanted him to be someday, but the thing about dreams is they’re silly. 

“I don’t believe in dreams.” Jeno says behind you, zipping up the back of your dress. “There’s more power in manifestation.”

But dreams are manifestations if you think about it, and while you dreamt of the future with Haechan, you remember it had been just like Uzumaki. 

Spirals had begun to sprout up in the small town around you, driving everyone insane. Infecting each inch of surface and land, and you, you reached for Haechan as he escaped the swarm of spirals. You screamed, shouted, pleaded for him to grab a hold of your hands and save you.

And then you woke up, sitting up in your childhood bed feeling a sense of dread. 

“I manifested you.” Jeno kisses your nape, fixing your hair into place. “My Teddy.”

No. He didn’t. That’s what you want to say, to let him know. He didn’t manifest you, you let him in years ago when Haechan stood there in your dream. Watched you get swallowed up by the spirals, the exact same way he watched Jeno swallow you whole. He did nothing then, he did nothing now, exactly like your dream.

It’s been a week now since you last went to class. A week now since you moved out of your studio apartment, Jeno reminding you that ‘That shithole is no place for my soon-to-be wife to live.’ as he drove you to a new apartment. Furnished, never lived in, a great view of the city, and two bedrooms. 

‘Until I’ve saved up enough for a house, this will be perfect for our little family.’

He kisses your forehead and held you close, admiring the scenery outside of your bedroom window. ‘You’ll never have to worry about anything again.’

Don’t ask questions, don’t worry, just trust him.

Because he knows you’d never handle the truth without a fight. The anonymous threats he holds over Haechan’s father’s head, the thousands of dollars he’s set aside just to get you away from your childhood friend. It’s all been a part of his plan, and thankfully it worked. Of course it did, everything works out for Jeno.

“We won’t stay out too late.” Jeno smiles, reaching over to the passenger seat to tweak your chin. “You look so fucking cute in that costume.”

“I feel fat.” You mumble, poking at your exposed stomach.

“Don’t start.” He tuts, slapping your hand away. “You look like my fluffy cute teddy.”

You really do. Wearing fluffy round ears on your head, fuzzy tan brown bralette and matching shorts with a puffed tail attached. Jeno held up the costume with a huge smile, tossing it your way only a few hours ago and letting you know to get ready for a Halloween party tonight. 

His costume seemed much more simple, nothing more than a Michael Meyers face mask and his usual attire. Tight black tee, fitted dark wash jeans, combat boots, studded leather belt. 

You look really good too Jeno. 

That’s what you wanted to say, especially after the last few weeks of falling asleep in the same bed together. You really really really wanted to say it, to tell him he looks hot, sexy, devastatingly attractive.

You say nothing though, following along with his arm around your shoulder through a throng of partygoers dancing around in their fun costumes. Fairies, iconic characters, Barbies, Bratz Dollz, cops and robbers. It’s fun really, your first Halloween party, your first Halloween party with your boyfriend.

“Water?” He hands you a cup of clear liquid, ignoring the bottles of alcohol lined up atop the kitchen counter of whoevers house this is. 

“Thanks.”

He nods, directing you to a long winding staircase leading you up to an enormous hallway entrance. Rich people of course, luxurious decor, expensive paintings, every inch of this place spotless surely thanks to a 24 hour live-in maid service.

“There’s still one last thing I need to fix for you.”

Jeno walks backward, facing you with that blank faced mask on, arms prominent and flexed in the confines of his tight shirt. “That’s why we’re here Teddy.”

What could that even mean? One last thing to fix for you. Nothing can be fixed anymore.

“Come here baby.” It’s dark up here, darker in the room he tugs you inside of, immediately pinning your body to the wall, digging his fingers into your waist. “How am I supposed to keep my hands off of you?” He grunts, turning you around to press your breasts to the wall, stroking your hair aside to kiss your nape and toy with the leather choker there.

He says that offhandedly sometimes while you’re lazing around in bed after waking up. It’s so hard to keep his hands off of you, he has no idea how he’ll manage once you give birth.

That’s why you’re here, surprised he even bothered to find a room to hide you away in. Among the many things Jeno likes, he loves to show you off, love for everyone to know you are his.

He doesn’t waste time to strip your panties off, dropping them to your ankles to squeeze your ass with his heavy thick palms. Holding you apart to watch your wrinkled rim flinch and tighten up. “Not tonight sweetheart. Gotta fuck your pretty pussy, you know that. Have to make sure your womb stays full.” 

He still runs a thumb across your rim, just to watch your hips jut back, so needy.

“Stay still okay?” Jeno says sweetly, pointing to the door. “And don’t look away.”

He steps back for a minute, letting the cool air circulating around the room roll shivers up your back, chewing on your lip in anticipation.

You think you hear a click, something else familiar that you can’t exactly put your finger on before the warmth of his body returns and presses against you. 

“Now where were we? My poor teddy, already making a mess.” He whispers against the shell of your ear, hand slipping between your thighs to rub the wetness around that's smeared down. “Should I fuck you now? Make my teddy feel real good?”

“Y-yes..” you whine, keeping your gaze locked on the door like he commanded. It’s not good to disobey Jeno, and you don’t intend to.

“Beg for it better than that..” the weight of his size smacks against your ass, hot and heavy. Letting you know he’s fully hard and ready to fuck. “Come on.”

“Please Jeno.. wanna feel f-full..” you do your best to sound sweet, docile and small. Anything to not spend another minute without him inside of you. 

“Is that all I am to you? A big cock to get yourself off on? Huh?” He seeps between your thighs, gripping onto your hips firmly. Rocking his hips forward, the clap of his skin hitting the perk of your ass resounds. Your skin sticky from body shimmer and lotion, moistening up as he ruts between your thighs.

“N-no.. love you, love your cock too.” You whimper, having to bite down on your hand to not scream when he slaps your hip and lets out a deep pleased grunt. 

“That’s what I like to hear sweetheart.” Without bothering to warn you, he pushes in, pausing a little more than halfway only to savor the wet trickle of arousal drenching his length. “Fuck, that’s how much you love my cock? Dripping this fucking much already.”

“Yesyesyes!” You nod into your hand, bumping your head against the wall. Biting down harder on your fingers as impending screams rise up your throat. Muffling the one that breaks free when he pushes into the hilt.

Jeno’s cock always feels like the first time everytime, so big and fucking thick. Penetrating deep in ways that don’t even seem humanly possible. He always makes you cum, makes you want to go again even when your body needs a break. 

“L-love h-how full you m-make me!” You blabber, reaching to grab onto the wall as he builds up speed and starts to thrust faster. Palms slide up your waist to fuck you the way he wants, pulling out to the tip each time and diving the entirety of his length right back in to really make you feel and take every inch. 

“You love it?! You love me?” He growls, sliding one hand lower to find your clit before you’re able to respond. He knows you’ll choke on your next words, making your pussy gush out more around him as he rams up and fucks you vigorously. “Answer me!”

“Yes yes! I love you!” You wail, bounced up and down fiercely. The angle placing the tip of his cock right under your navel. “Ah! Ah f-fuck!”

“Yeah, keep fucking saying that sweetheart.” He roars, biting at your shoulder, swiping your clit side to side. Thin fingers play you like a fiddle, stroking and pinching your clit until you’re clenching around him. Toes pointed off the ground, neck tossed back in ecstasy. 

Jeno reaches so deep, he fills you up so so good, he stretches you open in a way you’ve become addicted to. Clawing at the wall on the brink of your orgasm, chanting repetitive begging between your moans. He eats it all up, groans against your skin, shoving his mask off as the door opens.

“That’s it Teddy,” fisting your hair, he shoves your cheek against the wall, maneuvering your face toward the stream of light that enters. “Milking my cock so fucking good.”

Haechan’s eyes meet yours, wide and bewildered, quickly scanning from Jeno back to you. “Cum for me, let him see how you really take it baby. Show that bitch who you fucking love.”

It hurts. The pleasure between your thighs taking over your lower half as your heart pinches and aches, the two powerful emotions crashing head to head. And Jeno thrusts in hard, swiping his fingers rapidly along the sides of your clit until you’re crying out, slapping the wall with a shout.

“That’s my girl, that’s my fucking girl.” He rasps behind you, cupping your face to bite down on your jaw. Through your dazed euphoria you think that’s your broken voice spewing out a song of IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou, eyes rolled back as the cool chill washes away from your skin with an overwhelming wave of heat. 

Jeno sport’s the biggest and most wicked smile, watching Haechan’s face fall. The last thing his old best friend could snatch away from his life, successfully crushing the relationship you ever had with him. He watches his old friend back away disgusted, and he cums, filling you with a hot stream of white, exclaiming how much he loves you.

“Love you so much baby,” he’s never sounded so honest, so enthralled and at ease. Drawing your waist back with his ripped arms, wrapping a safe hold around you to keep your limbless body against his. “Love you enough to give you my baby.”

His palms glide down, ending in their new favorite spot right beneath your navel. Kissing up your neck softly, murmuring about the future. “You’ll never be able to get rid of me now Teddy. We’re one now, you and I.”

There’s a hint of threat laced in his words, gently petting the area where he’s imagined a small bump will begin to show soon. 

They day you met Haechan and lost him broke your heart. The day you met Jeno turned your life upside down, discovered the shattered pieces and put them back together again, finally showing you what you’ve always secretly wished for.

“I love you Jeno.”

“I know.”

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Jealous, Jealous, Boy || Young president!Snow X Plinth!Reader

GIF by @fuckyeahtomblyth and divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: Being Panem’s First Lady was not all luxurious or happy. Snow was often cold, focused on Gamemaking leaving you to do whatever you pleased to do. But when new arrive to him that you were being awfully to friendly with one of the elitists, Snow always lands on top.

Warnings: toxic/possesive Snow

Wc:

Coriolanus Snow Masterlist

“And where have you been, my darling wife?” Snow’s voice calls out as you pause slightly before shutting the doors behind you. Smoothing down the fitted dress, your heels click as you walk towards the drawing room. You see Snow sitting on an armchair, his back facing you as your fingers tap against your thigh.

“I asked you a question,” He voices out, his head turning to the side. “I visited the academy, wanted to see how the students were going.” You softly spoke out. It wasn’t a lie. You were bored out of your mind as of this morning, Tigris had to cancel on your weekly meet up and Snow was going to be stuck in his office all day like every other day.

“Come, sit.” He turns his head back around. It was dead silent apart from the clicking of your heels as you sit at the armchair beside Coriolanus’. “How’s the little one?” He makes eye contact with you, his arms folding as you furrow your eyebrows at him.

“Oh don’t act stupid Y/n, you don’t think I don’t get informed when you don’t bleed?” He chuckles, amused. Instinctively, your hand caresses your lower abdomen. Snow watches silently, “Can I?” “Hm?” “Can I feel it?” The corners of your lips slightly tug up. “Of course Coryo,” his nickname slipped out of your mouth. It had been such a long time since you’ve called him something so personal.

Snow’s large hands slowly move to your clothed abdomen. His fingers were ever so close, but you could tell he was hesitant. You take his hand and place it at the barely there bump. You intently watch Snow’s feature soften. Although they were quite young, a child would only help strengthen the family.

And just like that, his features harden. His cold façade back. He retreats his hand back, rubbing his forehead. “What are you thinking about?” You quietly ask, your eyes on your hands as you fidget. Coriolanus was always like this.

Shutting himself away whenever he felt a slight tinge of happiness, or the feeling of being loved. He hated the it; bringing him awful memories. “I’m thinking, y/n, of what I should do.” He stands up as your eyes follow him moving towards the alcohol on the table. “I’ve been informed that you have gotten quite comfortable with one of the elitists, am I wrong?”

Silence. “I said, am. I. wrong!” He yells, throwing the shot glass at the portrait of you and him on your wedding day. You quietly scream as you bring your hands up to your ears. You were shaking. Tears uncontrollably fell from your eyes as you sobbed. Snow hardly ever showed you his violent side. Feeling his presence coming towards you, you move your legs towards your chest.

“Shhh…” He takes your hands in his. You slowly look up towards your husband who’s staring at you so intensely. He lifts your chin up with his index finger. “You know I would never hurt you,” he says ever so softly, “or our unborn child,” His eyes flicker to your stomach.

“For the sake of my sanity, you are to stay home. You are not permitted to visit the academy. Do you understand, wife?” Your gaze falters, Snow pushes your chin up higher once again, forcing you to look at his blue irises. “Do you understand?” Snow says, this time it was barely a whisper.

You nodding your head was not sufficient enough for him. “Give me words.” “Yes. Yes I understand, husband” His face contorts into satisfaction. “Reed was it? Is that his name?” You slowly nod, he already knew that, he just wanted you to admit to it. “I didn’t cheat.” “Hm, I believe you. Reed will be kicked out, he should know his place.”

Coriolanus gives you one final kiss before straightening up and walking away.

[revelboo]

I thought I loved Transformers but because of you and your writing I realized I am in hopeless servitude to SO MANY OF THESE MECHS. 😩😩 I used to only pine for Bee and the twins but SHIT YOU GOT ME BARKING FOR EVERYONE NOW. I shan’t forgive you for this!!

I regret nothing! 😀

Everything Is Alright Pt 109

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Relaxing into his warm frame, you let the feel of his palm sliding against your spine lull you and rest your cheek against him, feeling his spark thrumming under you as familiar as your own heartbeat. Listening to him describe the cities of his world, and hearing the wistful longing in his voice, leaves a bitter ache inside you. He misses his home and it’s something you can’t even begin to understand when he’s told you his world was devastated by their war. That there’s no going home for him or any of them. Eyes closing as his servos of his other hand slide against the back of yours, you look up at him. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

• Venting softly to stir your hair, he looks down at you in surprise. And it is what it is, but that you’re unhappy because he’s unhappy about a world you’ve never even seen means so much. Shifting his plating, there’s a flicker of guilt as his spark snares you and you startle against him. But you don’t resist as he wraps himself around you and that delicate spark he can only just sense. Offering you images of Iacon’s skyline, the exhilaration and freedom of flight. Watching you drift through his memories, feeling your joy sparking through him as he follows you. Circling and studying that inconsistent, gossamer thin shadow of an incomplete bond clinging to your light. We could go flying, he offers, stalling because he knows you’re going to be upset with him for this. Won’t want to understand it’s necessary at first, but you’ll forgive him. You always do. You have to.

• Reaching for a new memory when he offers it, your breath catches as a different alien city glitters beneath you, seen from the air the way he’d seen it. Turning to find him, he engulfs you and it’s not like when you’d been tangled in him before, both of you swimming through each other. You’re caged in his light, overwhelmed and unable to move or think. Confused, but aware of him tearing at you. Destroying something that’s yours, not his. Something he has no right to and you feel the loss jolt through you flinging yourself from him as soon as he releases you. Physical body jerking to get free, to break that contact as he reaches after you. And the connection stretches and snaps, his servos catching your upper arm when you slide half out of his lap. “What did you do?” Can’t breathe, shaking with that awful, wrenching wrongness and it hurts.

• “Our spark is fine,” he soothes, unsettled as you cringe away when he tries to pull you to him. Like you’re afraid of him. Closing his plating, he drags you back to him, hooking an arm around you to keep you there as you splay a hand against him, upset and almost panicking, you’re breathing much quicker than he’s used to. Had it hurt? He’s doesn’t know, but hates the thought. That twists guiltily through him as he curls himself tighter around you. Hadn’t wanted it to hurt, but he had to do it. Had to sever Soundwave’s claim to you. “It’s alright. It’s over.” His own spark aching unpleasantly, unsettled by your distress. You hadn’t known Soundwave that long, not really. Sliding his servos up your spine, his wings droop slightly. “I’m here.” And he’s all you need, because you’re all he needs. Even if you can’t see that he had to sever that leash. Can’t let Soundwave or anyone else control you or him.

• Staggering and nearly dropping the stack of data pads in his hands, it feels like being blindsided. Like when he’d lost the feel of you in his mind, but he can still sense your emotions and you’re upset. Not just upset, hurting. And he can’t sense his bond, the loss almost crippling. Denta clenching behind his mask, his head turns as Megatron looks up in surprise, chin propped on a fist. Aware of the furious sound he’s making, as he storms off the bridge and through the halls. And he’s going to strangle that self-obsessed, paranoid idiot.

• Aware that whatever upset Soundwave is something he probably doesn’t want to be involved in, Megatron is still tempted to go see the fallout. To see what’s made Soundwave that furious. Venting tiredly, he debates following. Sure that he knows exactly where the communications officer is going and that this is somehow about Starscream. It always is.

Previous

Next

Might I recommend ‘Shit’s Gonna Be Ok’ by I Fight Dragons 🥲 I’m sorry, but really. It’ll be fine… Eventually.

[brittle-doughie]

My last two asks were eaten by the dreaded askbox kraken so here goes attempt 3 at one of these:

I had the thought of Y/N Cookie being a keeper of the Ivory Pagoda and one of Mystic Flour's most trusted guards, and potentially her lover, who she gave the task of protecting her cocoon at all costs when she sealed herself away.

They stood strong against most who sought to break the cocoon, but when they eventually fell in battle and the cocoon was breached for the first time, Mystic Flour did not take it kindly and effortlessly annihilated those who struck down Y/N Cookie, taking their crumbled body into the cocoon with her when she resealed herself, to safeguard what was left.

Volition’s End (Mystic Flour Cookie)

She entered the cocoon as a savior. She’ll leave it as anything but…

You hummed to yourself as you swept the temple floor, the specks of dust floating away with each brush to the floor. It was just one of many tasks given you as guard captain of the temple, as permitted by the will of Mystic Flour Cookie.

You gazed up at her statue in awe and respect to the great hero, no matter how many times you’ve seen it in your days at the Grand Temple. It only showed the amount of admiration you’ve had for her.

The other guards teased you that it was definitely more then just admiration for Mystic Flour Cookie. You wanted to say they were wrong, it was just the amount of respect you held for her, but were they really wrong in the end?

Admiration….

Admiration that blossomed into….

“Ah, already up and at it again, eh captain?”

Cloud Haetae Cookie, the faithful guide for Mystic Flour Cookie. You’ve known them for as long as you resided here at the temple. They might have been here long before you showed up, but they’re still as adorable and cheerful as ever!

“Yeah, I wanted to make sure the temple is nice and clean for when Mystic Flour Cookie finally emerges from the cocoon and graces us as the Leavened One.”

“You’ve been saying that every day, you know. Always talking about how our master will really come out of the cocoon this time! Oooh, like an obsession!”

“I am not obsessed, I simply expressed excitement and hope that we’ll finally see her again..don’t read too much into it…”

“Do you really expect me to believe that, captain~? I’ve seen the way you and our master see each other before she entered the cocoon! It’s so obvious, almost everyone knows about you two!”

“Quiet….”

“Hehehe, you know I’m right! Now give me some rubs!”

“Seriously?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault your rubs are so good!”

“…..”

“…..” (They’re giving you the puppy dog eyes)

“Alright alright, stop whining, you.”

Cloud Haetae Cookie transforms into their Haetae form, giggling and laughing as you rub their head and stomach. It never fails to give you a small smile, seeing Cloud Haetae Cookie so happy…

It makes the wait for Mystic Flour Cookie bearable…

———————————————————————

“What is that in your hands, Y/N Cookie?”

“Oh, it’s just a white bun. Cloud Haetae gave me one while I was patrolling the temple. They gave me another for you if you were hungry too.”

“I am not hungry right now, Y/N…”

“But food is always enjoyed best when you’re having it with others..”

“That is true, but one’s wish cannot be granted if I am eating.”

“Mystic Flour Cookie….”

She turns to you. You were giving her that look with a pout, she hated it when you did that, she never was able to resist it as the smallest smile forms on her face.

“Very well, I may make an exception for you. Pass me mine…”

You gave it to her without haste, she takes a moment to observe the white bun before having a bite. The taste was delectable on her taste buds as she turned to you, enjoying your white bun, she hums with that hint of a smile again.

The white bun was great. Having her most trusted guard eat alongside her? Even better…

———————————————————————

“Hey! Why’d you stop? Give me more!”

“O-oh! Sorry.”

Cloud Haetae Cookie relaxed once more after you resumed your head rubbing, reeling from your memory with Mystic Flour Cookie…

You just had to wait a little longer, or a while longer, or whatever it took. Just as long as you got to see Mystic Flour Cookie again…

To spend time together like you two used to do…

*SLAM!*

The sound of the temple doors slamming open and shut rapidly startled you two, causing Cloud Haetae to jump from your lap.

“Gah! What’s going on?!”

“It’s one of my guards!”

A temple guard hastily stumbled towards you, gripping her shoulder in clear pain.

“Captain, it’s the crowd outside. They’re getting more restless the more they wait for the temple doors to be opened. They’ve resorted to violent means to breach our line!”

“Those cookies…can’t they wait anymore?! You go take care of yourself, I’ll be out there shortly.”

“Yes, captain!”

The guard hurried away as Cloud Haetae Cookie grew nervous, yet frustrated too.

“This is only been getting worse the past few days, now they’re resorting to hurting others to satiate their selfishness…”

“It’s terrible, which is why I’m going out there to quell them and hopefully calm down the problem. The cocoon must be protected at all costs! Cloud Haetae Cookie, if they ever get in, do not hesitate to hide. I’d hate to see you hurt…”

“But what if things don’t get better? What if they….try to crumble you? The fires of hatred in their eyes from the last visit was already bad enough…!”

“Anything is better than Mystic Flour Cookie getting hurt under my watch!”

You marched outside with your weapons ready, Cloud Haetae Cookie’s nerves not being helped at all.

“Mystic Flour Cookie, my master, please help us…”

———————————————————————

“Y/N, you don’t need to blame yourself…”

“But I went against what I sworn to do, I attacked instead of defended…”

“That cookie’s greed had gotten the better of them, they were not of sound mind anymore…”

“I should’ve reacted better, I should’ve kept my emotions in check, please forgive me…”

“Y/N Cookie.”

The slight raise in her volume along with your name in full made you stop and stand at attention, worries at their peak.

Until Mystic Flour Cookie reached to caress your cheek.

“You did what you’ve sworn to do, protect the temple and me from any danger…”

“Even if..it’s one of the temple goers?”

“Yes. There was no other option, it was either you or them…”

Mystic Flour’s face formed a small smile.

“I am willing to look past this one offense, but you will have to make up for it~”

Now your worries were just reduced to red blush staining your face.

“T-Thank you, Mystic Flour Cookie. I won’t hold back from any threat, without having to harm others!”

“Mm. Come here, it’s okay…”

She brings you into a hug, something that shocks you for a moment, as you slowly reciprocate. Your emotions bubble as your grip subconsciously gets tighter around her.

“Thank you….”

———————————————————————

“GET BACK!”

The situation escalated beyond what you had imagined. They broke past your defensive line and had breached the temple doors, yet you still had weapon ready.

Your fellow guards laid defeated before you, only you remained….

The crowd of angry cookies were less than willing to settle down…

“Where is she?! Is she out of that cocoon yet?!”

“Why can’t she help us?! My house is close to collapse!”

“My garden isn’t going to make it at this rate!”

“I want my wish granted, it’s been too long!”

“Treasure! I heard there was treasure she’s hiding from us too!”

You grew more furious at the crowd with that accusation now spreading around, but you remained steadfast.

“There are no treasures! She isn’t keeping anything from you! Please, not now! Not when she’s on the last step to being the Leavened One!”

The crowd couldn’t care, eyes full of malice and anger as they approached with their own weapons.

“So much for a great hero! She needs one cookie to protect her!”

“Now we KNOW you’re holding out on us with treasure!”

“Hand us the treasure!”

A cookie with a bow shoots and it strikes your leg, making you yell out in pain as you kneel, strawberry jam oozed out.

Cloud Haetae Cookie, hiding under the stairs, gasped in horror at the sight.

You didn’t falter, you simply stood your ground!

“If you think I’ll let you reach Mystic Flour Cookie while I’m still breathing, THINK AGAIN!”

You deflected and blocked as much of their attacks as you could, keeping them at bay…

But you could only do so for so long, for every slip up, they landed cuts and shots all over your body.

A slash to your knee, an arrow to your shoulder, a stab to your stomach…

You never once raised your weapon to hurt them…

“*sniffle*….Y/N Cookie….*sob*….”

Cloud Haetae tried to hold back their tears as they’re forced to watch you slowly whittle away from fatigue and the crowd’s attacks…

Someone else was watching….within the cocoon…

She begged them to stop internally….

You fall to your knees…

Stop this…!

You looked up at the cookie behind you, nothing but hatred in their eyes….yet you showed no fear, only defiance with a scowl…

Please stop this!

You see the cookie’s blade rising up….

You refused to show fear…

PLEASE STOOOOOP!

The blade comes down….

“I love you, Mystic Flour Cookie….”

———————————————————————

You and Mystic Flour Cookie sit at one of the highest points in the temple, watching the sunset.

“It’s nice up here, don’t you think?”

“Yes, it’s a pleasant view…”

“It makes you forget about all your troubles when you look at something like this…”

“Do you have troubles in your life, Y/N?”

“Yes, but I knew what I was getting into when I joined. It would’ve been all worth it if it meant I get to see you everyday.”

Mystic Flour Cookie giggles a little, a smile on her face.

“Then, we should do this more often…”

“I’d be more than happy to…”

“As do I….”

You two continued to watch the sunset, leaning against each other, hands clutched together….

———————————————————————

“Stop, I don’t think they’ll be getting up anytime soon…”

The group moved on from the now battered remains of..what used to be Y/N Cookie…the group talked amongst themselves.

“Now, for what we came here for, the treasure that she’s keeping from us in that cocoon…”

“Needed a cookie to protect her, I thought she was supposed to be a savior to us…”

“Maybe…she wasn’t as godlike as we thought…”

“She tricked us. And now she’s hiding away in that cocoon of hers! Fake! FAKE IMMORTAL!”

With one slash of a sword, the cocoon was cut open, where Mystic Flour Cookie was situated before them, unmoving and with a shadow over her eyes…

“You! We’ve waited long enough for you to come out of there! Where are the treasures you’re hiding!”

“Or at least you’ll be able to grant our wishes now!”

“I’ve got so much to ask for, where do I start?”

“Me first!”

“Back off!”

“I wish for the power to be a great spellcaster!”

Without saying a word, Mystic Flour Cookie waved her hand and the cookie who asked felt a surge within their body!

“Woah! This is….huh?”

Before the cookie knew it, their head had poofed into flour along with the rest of their body, the rest of the group gasped in horror as they too started turning pale…the atmosphere suddenly shifted to pure red…

“What’s happening to us!?”

“I don’t feel so good…”

“It’s her! She’s did this to us!”

“HELP ME!”

The cookies that tried to draw their weapons suddenly saw that their arms and hands had stopped working as they fell apart and dispersed to flour, causing more chaos to ensure as they screamed in horror.

Some tried to run to the temple doors in a panic, a few making there only to see that the temple doors were closed and locked as they struggled to open them, fading to nothing before they could realize that their efforts would be useless…

Some tried to beg and plead for their lives, swearing that they’ll never do this again….

For the first time ever since the cocoon was cut , Mystic Flour Cookie vocalized…

Not to speak…

But to laugh….

“Hehe….”

“Hehehehehe….”

“AHAHAHAHAHA!”

When it was all over, there’d be no one left remaining with the exception of Mystic Flour Cookie, Cloud Haetae Cookie, and Y/N Cookie….

Mystic Flour Cookie stopped laughing…as she gazed down to the body of her now ruined lover….

She gently picked them up in their arms as she retreated into her cocoon, Cloud Haetae crawling out of the stairs as she gazed up at their master.

“Master…I’m sorry, they…”

“No, I should’ve seen how futile it was to try and ignore the growing greed that can instill into cookies. It wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t…their fault.”

Cloud Haetae couldn’t stand to see the crumbled apart body of the captain and friend..

“I will return to the cocoon, they will be joining me. This world…is too cruel for them to be in…”

“Yes, master….”

The cocoon closed up, with Mystic Flour Cookie clutching Y/N Cookie close….

Just them and her…

And when the cocoon opens up once more…

She’ll make the cookies see…

She’ll make the world see how much pain and anguish can be let go by returning to nothing….

“I love you too, Y/N Cookie….”

I locked in so hard, lol

[onlyangel4]

healing a heart i didn't break. LH44. MV1. SMAU. part one.

cheater! lewis hamilton x reader. max verstappen x reader.

when your boyfriend of three years fumbles, his rival is there to put the pieces of your heart back together bit by bit.

warnings: 14 year age gap with lewis. cursing. cheating. mentions of the anniversary of a family member's death.

author's note: in this reader is 25 years old. lewis is a jerk but just for the plot. this first chapter is just the cheating. max will show up in the next chapters.

part two

faceclaim: camilla morrone

y/ninsta

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, lewishamilton, y/bffinsta and 678,901 others

tagged lewishamilton and y/bffinsta

y/ninsta: the best summer break with my favourite people

view all 19,028 comments

alexandrasaintmleux: looking forward to seeing you all in the netherlands

y/ninsta: i can't wait to see you alex !

lewishamilton: i think this was the best summer break out of them all

y/ninsta: we keep bettering ourselves every single year

y/bffinsta: thank you for letting me tag along

y/ninsta: wdym he was obviously third wheeling us

user 12: i love the friendship between lewis, y/n and y/bff it is so wholesome

lewishamilton posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: last beach day with y/n before back to work

y/ninsta posted a story

written: back at it

y/ninsta

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmundt, y/bffinsta and 560,982 others

written: forever the proudest girlfriend. last slide is me and y/bff hardly working while my boyfriend secures p2.

tagged lewishamilton and y/bffinsta

view all 12,348 comments

lewishamilton: the luckiest of lucky charms

y/ninsta: that was all skill baby

y/bffinsta: we do our best

y/ninsta: that we do

carmenmundt: gonna miss you in the merc garage next week honey

user19: i'm new to the y/n fandom. how come she won't be there next week.

y/nfan: her father died on the 31st of august five years ago. she has a family tradition to go home and let go of balloons, so she is never at the race that week.

y/bffinsta posted a story

y/ninsta replied to your story: i didn't know you were going

y/bffinsta: yeah lew had a paddock ticket reserved and as you are busy he gave to me

y/ninsta: oh. have a good time, wish him good luck from me

y/ninsta

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, carmenmundt, max verstappen and 320,982 others

y/ninsta: oh dad, i have a love hate relationship with day. i love it because i get to sit down with everyone and talk about my favourite memories of you. but i hate it because it reminds me that you are really gone. i hope you are proud of me and the woman that i have become. i know you are looking down on us.

view all 6,902 comments

carmenmundt: thinking of you darling

y/ninsta: thank you carmen

mercedesamgf1: we love you y/n

y/ninsta: i love you admin

alexandrasaintmleux: forever in my thoughts

user32: guys wtf is going on. every year y/n posts a similar thing and lewis and y/bff are always the first people to like and comment on it. this has been up all day and all the other wags have liked it and even max fucking verstappen has but not a peep from y/bff or lewis. something is going on.

user12: shit open twitter

f1updates

liked by user23, f1fan12, user22 and 120,987 others

f1updates: the internet is in shambles after pictures of lewis hamilton and y/bff were posted by papparazzi. y/bff is best friends with lewis' long term girlfriend y/n. y/n was not in italy this weekend as she was at home honoring her late father. admin doesn't tend to like to take sides but this is awful behaviour from lewis and y/bff and we hope that y/n is okay.

view all 22,398 comments

user23: this is awful. y/n is grieving her father and her two favourite people betray her.

f1fan12: lewis hamilton i am in your walls

user22: there is no innocent explanation to this. this is cheating.

y/ninsta posted a close friends story

written: and they both blocked me with no explanation. like i'm in the wrong

alexandrasaintmleux replied to your story: where are you

y/ninsta: my childhood home

alexandrasaintmleux: i'm coming