#Three of them consecutively actually

[calebverse]

caleb loves your scent. 

there’s just something so fresh, so sweet, and so you that got him addicted to it. he loves holding you close, so close, that he can pick up the smell of your skin and body wash. he would give you forehead kisses, taking the chance to place his nose by the crown of your hair for a whiff of your shampoo. the smell of your clothes helps him know you’re around him without even seeing you yet. he never misses the chance to tell you that you smelled good, amongst all the other praises he would say. and even when you would try to push him away when you say you’re all sweaty, he would still playfully tackle you just to catch your scent before reluctantly letting you go because you kept claiming you needed a shower. 

he is all-familiar to your fragrance, so imagine his surprise when he finds you after you got home from your work. 

he greets you with a hug, and then catches a new but oddly familiar scent on you. 

caleb lets loose of the hug but kept you in his arms. “new perfume, pipsqueak?” it smelled like leather with a hint of mint. it was thick, a complete opposite to the perfume you would usually go for. in a split second, he recognizes that it smelled like men’s perfume.

the thought of being you being close to another man to the point that whatever his perfume was rubbed off on you irked him. his jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. 

you, however, were completely oblivious to the storm brewing in caleb's mind. you just smiled sheepishly. “it's yours, silly.”

“i was running late to work this morning, had to get dressed and put on my makeup quick. and then, conveniently,” you said with a roll of your eyes, “i found out that my perfume just ran out. can't get even a few sprays in anymore. but i saw your cologne, and i didn’t want to walk out without having anything on me. i only sprayed a little bit. one spray behind each ear, each wrist, and two sprays under my shirt.” 

caleb let out a breath he was holding. thank god it was his cologne and not anyone else’s. how was he not able to recognize it in the first whiff? 

and then it was as if a switch was flipped inside of caleb. you smell like him. you walked around, went about your day, carrying his scent. unconsciously carrying a claim he had on you. unknowingly letting people know that you were his, that a piece of him was on you. he wondered if you knew. he wondered if people asked about it. how did you answer? did you tell them it was his scent all over you?

while his favorite scent will always be yours, this came a close second. it all appeared so… territorial. and it pleased even the darker sides of his mind. suddenly, the idea of holding you close to him you start smelling like him, or the vision of him leaning in, kissing every part of your skin with the scent of his cologne was appealing.

“i see,” he said, clearing his throat. his hands made their way to your waist, and he tightened his grip three times. “don't worry pipsqueak, you can use it until you buy another bottle of perfume.”

“really?” you chuckled. “to be fair, i might have to research the brand and see if they have anything i could try. your cologne is great because it lasted the whole day. it's like i have you with me all the time.”

the statement was said in a tone that was cheery and playful, but the thought of it was so intimate in caleb’s mind. he couldn’t help but kiss your lips in short, consecutive pecks, eliciting a giggle from you. then he let his head rest on your neck, his nose pressed to the corner where your ear meets your jaw. 

“you smell nice.” caleb mumbled into your skin. 

“i smell like you.”

“exactly.” he replied. “and i don’t mind one bit.”

a/n: aaaaa it's been a while since i wrote an actual fic (this is a drabble to be honest) but this is me dipping slowly into it again! i've recently got hooked into the world of love and deepspace and we have this 6'2 colonel mf to blame. no complaints though.

anyways, this was slightly inspired by a real life experience and my first thought was 'damn that sounds like something caleb would do.' so here it is!

[gghostwriter]

Can i have a fluffy spencer x reader piece. Just something cozy where they are all at rossis maybe after a case for some team bonding and chill time. And like he is offering everyone wine and reader goes along like "i can't" bcs she pregnant? Fluff fluff super fluff pls

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff! wc: 0.6k A/N: Reader is not part of the BAU, hope that's alright. I had fun writing this, hope you enjoy! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💗 Main masterlist

Special Diet. // Spencer Reid

Your fiancee and his team had been out on the field for three consecutive cases all over the country. Just through Spencer’s nightly ritual calls alone, you could tell how tired and stressed he was and by extension the other members. Which was why, during their second night back in home ground, you volunteered to cook them a small feast—as long as Rossi hosted it in his place, which he readily agreed to as he was never one to say ‘no’ when a culinary chef such as yourself volunteers to cook up a meal.

“So what did our local chef cook up for the night?” Morgan asked as the team sat around the laid out table by the backyard.

You smiled, placing the finishing touches on the table. “I wanted to give the Italian cuisine a break so I present to you, French delicacies. For the starters, we have here salade lyonnaise with slices of baguette—” gesturing to the mid-size plate to their upper left. “—our mains, steak frites, and yes, I remembered to make yours rare, Morgan—” a few chuckles escaped from the team members as the called out profiler sheepishly placed his hand down “—and profiteroles for dessert.”

Rossi then started going around the table with his choice of wine to match the lavish dinner you’ve prepared.

“If you weren’t engaged to Reid, I’d marry you,” Penelope gushed as she took a bite of her meal.

Emily chuckled. “Get in line, Penelope. I get to marry her first if she changes her mind.”

“You never fail to impress me, Bambina. Now can I interest you for a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon?” Rossi asked as he reached your seat between Spencer and Emily.

“Actually, no thank you,” your answer eliciting an echo of utensils being dropped on the table. “I’m trying to cut back.”

JJ leaned forward. “Our very own wine connoisseur is saying no to Rossi’s aged wine?”

“I’m trying this special diet,” you shrugged, subtly studying if any of the best profilers the FBI has to offer understood the real reason why. Based on Hotch’s small smile behind his glass wine, the unit chief had caught on quite quickly.

“You don’t need to diet. You’re petite and fit, right kid?” Morgan clarified.

The corners of Spencer’s lips pulled slightly up as he squeezed your hand in his. “Actually, she does need to stick to the diet.”

Penelope gasped, clearly appalled at the stance your fiancee had taken. “Take that back! No way you said that, Reid!”

You giggled at the affronted reactions of the team—minus Hotch and Rossi as the two older profilers clinked their glasses together at the side. “It’s fine, Penny. It’s the truth anyway.”

Emily sent a dirty look to Spencer before asking on. “What else does this special diet entail?”

“Unpasteurized dairy, cold cuts, liver, game meat, and raw sushi to name a few,” Spencer listed out loud and with each, the smile on his face grew bigger and bigger.

“Wait, isn’t that—” JJ mumbled before promptly standing up from her seat and rushing to give you a hug.

Morgan tilted his head to the side. “What? What did I miss?”

Spencer chuckled before revealing the most obvious clue. “She has to follow the strict diet for 36 more weeks.”

There was a beat of silence before shouts and squeals emitted from all ends of the table.

“You’re pregnant?” Penelope gasped.

Emily added on. “With boy genius?”

You both nodded, bringing out a printed sonogram safely tucked in Spencer’s jacket that was draped around your shoulders. It had been a surprise when you went in for your yearly check-up but it was the type of news that Spencer quickly became happy with. His own family was expanding and he couldn’t have chosen a better partner than you.

“We present to you, baby Reid!”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[foldingfittedsheets]

So I spent 7 of the hours on my 10 hour shift doing pretty much nothing but draw and take notes for the book my beloved are writing.

Then at the eighth hour I had three consecutive groups came in all looking for the exact same bed which is wild in itself. They all three wanted Nectar and I talked all of them into other beds cause fuck Nectar.

But essentially the time I would normally have eaten dinner was swallowed in a haze of running around between folks. I ended up spending the last three hours trying to juggle multiple folks. I sold 15k in those three hours which is wild.

Finally, at the end it was half an hour after close. I was starving and frazzled so I hurried through closing duties. I just wanted to get home and eat. The store I was at is about 15 minutes from my home. It wasn’t until pulled in to my parking spot at home that I suddenly realized: I didn’t lock the door.

I was hungry! And stressed! I looked at the battery on the electric car and I could have gotten back to the store but I wasn’t confident the battery could actually do the whole round trip again.

I called my manager profusely apologizing and saying the my other car wasn’t home yet and the store isn’t in the best neighborhood. He panicked and said he’d go lock it up. I apologized more.

My wife got home and we got some very late food, settling my system down finally. When we got home again my manager called me back.

“Brother,” he said. I instantly knew what was happening from his tone.

“No,” I whispered.

“You locked it.”

“Noooooooooo!” I wailed. “What the hell! I have no memory of locking it, I was so sure I didn’t, I’m so sorry!!!”

My wife scooted up to the phone and added, “Do you like cupcakes? We’re gonna make you some cupcakes.”

So that’s how my night went.

[jeonstellate]

the ghost of legacy

a legacy joins the paddock for the season — and oscar is the only one not keen on befriending her.

ᯓ★ oscar piastri x fem!räikkönen!reader

ᯓ★ brief mentions of weight, sainz-leclerc divorce, & wound; depictions of insecurity, grid chaos, & confusion/denial

ᯓ★ paragraph format — 4.1K words

masterlist

[pic’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

ᯓ★ direct sequel to the ghost of monza!

ᯓ★ all italian & spanish words in this are from google! yn is kimi räikkönen’s daughter, but there are no physical descriptions mentioned.

ᯓ★ remember how i mentioned that tgom might be my first & only f1 fic? well . . . i’ve been persuaded otherwise :D i have some regrets about this, so i’d appreciate it a lot if y’all can share some feedback <3

The dawn of a season carries fresh, untainted hope. It brings a clean slate in most things — and in everything that matters. It resets the clock back at zero, and draws a mint coat for the starting line. It opens a new book with blank pages, awaiting fresh ink to flow and fill it with something worth remembering.

As poetic as those sound, Oscar can’t care any less. A new season’s a new season, meaning — for the most part — another chance at winning either championships.

For the remaining part? It means coming back to Monza, A-K-A where he met [first name] for three years in a row.

The Italian Grand Prix is still a lifetime away, but there are already moments where he finds himself wondering if she’ll still drop by and ask about Fernando’s whereabouts this season as well. With three consecutive years under their belts, it kind of feels like a tradition by this point. It’ll be too much of a shame if they break it so close to the fifth anniversary.

Honestly, he’s a little tempted to ask the older driver about his niece, but he’s also a little scared of what the other might do if he shows interest. Fernando looks like he’ll slash his tires as a form of intimidation. He doesn’t seem to be above purposely making contact during a race to prove a point, either.

It’s not like he can cut the middle man altogether. He only got her first name. There are a lot of [first name]s in existence. An Instagram search won’t cut it, especially if her profile picture isn’t of herself. A browser search will be just as impossible, if not even more so.

Oscar lets out a sigh without realizing. Is it better, after all, to let the universe decide if they should continue their little tradition?

"It’s not that bad," he hears Lando say next to him. They’re currently in the general hospitality, with a tray of free food they were promised for attending the pre-season ‘grid bonding’ and meetings. As the hospitality doesn’t open until the season officially starts, it’s just everyone in the paddock — the drivers and the crews — occupying the floors.

He looks at his teammate for that, silently hoping he’ll get a clue on what he’s talking about, because he has absolutely no idea what conversation topic they’re currently on. He didn’t mean to zone out but, alas, it’s just so easy to.

He decides to take a shot in the dark, after a moment of not perceiving any clues. He assumes — based on nothing — that he’s talking about the food. "The presentation might be intentionally deceiving."

Lando isn’t impressed. "You just need to gaslight yourself and think it’s good, if that’s really the case."

"No need! It’s actually good!" Pierre interrupts from one of the full six-seater tables. "Try the soup!"

Oscar isn’t really sure if he trusts Pierre’s tastebuds but he thanks him, anyway.

He guides Lando to sit at the eight-seater table next to Pierre’s group, albeit intentionally at the further side so he doesn’t feel pressured to socialize in the beginning of his lunch. He sits on the second seat from the edge, diagonally from the laptop he’s assuming someone forgot to take with them. Lando sits directly across him.

They eat in silence. Normally, one of them initiates a conversation over food. Today, though, Oscar lets his teammate clear his tray without a word. The other had — wisely and questionably — foregone eating breakfast to make the promised buffet worth his while.

He munches on his lunch thoughtfully, uninterested in taking advantage of the free buffet to the fullest. He — as the rest of the grid — has to watch his weight this close to the first race of the season, anyway, to avoid the risk of jeopardizing the car’s speed. He’s not really a fan of intensifying his gym workouts to burn extra calories if he eats way past his normal fill, either.

He zones out while looking directly at the stickers on the laptop cover. He’s not completely foreign to such practice, since his own sisters have decorated their personal laptops with a collection of stickers. As such, he knows how the stickers and their placements essentially show a portion of the laptop owner’s personality and interests.

Deciphering the laptop owner’s interests proves to be a good ‘during lunch’ activity. It doesn’t require a lot of thinking since most of them are pretty straightforward. Some are definitely out of context. The rest are completely obscure to him, which he doesn’t think too deeply about.

Then there’s a selected few that Oscar feels he should know, like the W resembling a fire and the RKN, but is currently blanking on.

The third general hospitality floor, by some coincidence or another, houses all drivers — reserved or otherwise — for lunch. They aren’t the only people on it, as there as also crew members scattered around, but it’s a bit impressive that the entire grid chose to settle on the same floor. Perhaps it’s an (un)intentional consequence of the grid bonding they’re forced to participate in.

Oscar gains more tablemates halfway through his first plate when Ollie and Kimi sit on the edge closest to Pierre’s group. He gains a seatmate when Alex sits next to him and George appears next to Lando.

There’s some sort of harmony in the chaos of overlapping conversations. Even more so when the tables talk to each other without bothering to get up.

Oscar thinks the chaos already peaked when the British and French drivers started defending their respective cuisines from the other’s attacks. Unfortunately, he’s eventually proven wrong when someone makes a deal out of someone else’s entrance to the floor.

"—laptop on a table," he hears a voice say. He can’t see whoever it is, though, since they’re blocked from his view by another.

"Go grab it first then I’ll introduce you to our drivers." The person blocking his view — someone from Williams, judging from the team uniform — moves slightly, allowing him to finally catch a glimpse of the other.

He sees the same Williams polo shirt first. Then— the matrix must’ve glitched.

He doesn’t remember blinking nor zoning out, but the next second he comprehends has [first name] diagonal from him across the table.

It feels wrong — and he isn’t quite sure what ‘it’ is. It is the fact that they’re currently worlds away from Monza? Or the fact that she’s wearing nothing that can get her mistaken as a tifoso?

[First name] gives him a wordless nod of recognition before excusing herself to the rest of the table, her laptop tucked between her arm and side.

"Osc, do you know her?" Someone in front whispers to him. He can’t be bothered to identify which gridmate, though, much less give them a reply. After all, his attention has stuck to [first name] like a moth to a flame.

Oscar has no shame about blatantly listening in on a conversation he obviously isn’t a part of.

"Alex, Carlos, this is our engineering intern for this year," the Williams crew member introduces the three. "She’ll be shadowing your race engineers alternatively."

"I’m Alex Albon, car twenty-three." He watches Alex as the latter holds a hand out for a handshake. "Welcome to team Williams."

[First name] takes his hand, "A pleasure."

Carlos reacts late, so it’s almost as if he’s hesitant to introduce himself. "Carlos Sainz, car fifty-five." Unlike his teammate, he doesn’t offer his hand for a shake. He just nods his head once — which she then returns with the same energy. "I see I got custody of you in the divorce."

[First name] lets out a laugh that doesn’t even reach Oscar’s ears. "[First name] Räikkönen — a child of the Sainz-Leclerc divorce, apparently."

Räikkönen?

Kimi Räikkönen?

Oscar must admit, despite understanding that her father is a former Formula One driver since last year, this revelation is still surprising. It isn’t unexpected, as Kimi Räikkönen was one of his top suspects then, but shock is definitely still there.

Probably because he now has an irrefutable evidence that the ghost of Monza is actually an F1 champion’s daughter.

And because there’s also a small part of him that feels embarrassed for not realizing right away. After all, [first name] wears her father’s number proudly — and her favored RKN logo is close enough to his RKKNN. Quite literally, the answer has been right in front of him this entire time.

"Räikkönen? Like Kimi Räikkönen?" Alex echoes his thoughts unknowingly. "That’s so cool."

"Exactly like Kimi Räikkönen," she replies good naturally. "He’s the one who passed it onto me."

The younger Williams driver is handling the revelation better than he is, as far as he can tell. But maybe that’s because Alex didn’t spend a good year thinking she’s a ghost. "No way."

"Yeah, [first name]," Charles pipes up from his seat at Pierre’s table. "No way you broke the Ferrari alliance!"

[First name] looks over to the side to meet Charles’ eyes. "There is no such thing."

"There is so!"

She doesn’t give the Monégasque the satisfaction of responding. Instead, she just returns her attention to the Williams drivers. "I look forward to working with you, Mr. Albon, Carlos."

She gives them a smile so genuine, the media would’ve scrambled to capture it — partly in disbelief that a Räikkönen could smile like so.

And, for a brief moment, Oscar could’ve sworn [first name]’s smile widens a little when their eyes meet.

(Un)fortunately, she’s gone before he can think too much about it.

The paddock stayed the same with [first name] Räikkönen around, more or less. ‘More’ because the fight for the title is still as cutthroat as the last with new rivalries, without necessarily interfering with the civility between them drivers. ‘Less’ because her presence has caused some drivers to gravitate towards her — unintentionally orbiting her every chance they get.

Fernando is a given. As are Charles and Carlos, based on their already-founded closeness in the hospitality. Alex follows soon after. Then Max.

That’s not an exhaustive list. If it had been, most of the grid would’ve been name-dropped, for sure. Maybe even have all— except one. Oscar.

Oscar doesn’t feel deserving of being [first name]’s friend, for a reason he can’t really put into words. [First name] is . . . [first name]. And he’s . . . just Oscar.

He doesn’t ignore her, of course, nor does he pretend she isn’t there when they cross paths. He just doesn’t go out of his way to be closer than acquaintances and gain her favor. He exchanges brief ‘hello’s with her whenever they meet going opposite ways. He returns her nods and waves of acknowledgment from across rooms, and has initiated them on occasion whenever he spots her first.

He doesn’t take detours to drop her off to her destination. He doesn’t sit with her whenever she’s alone, either. Because then, it’ll be a quiet kind of friendship — and he can’t be her friend.

He’s just her acquaintance, at best, and he’s content with that.

After all, [first name] has more than enough new friends. She doesn’t need him — his friendship, that is.

For her part, she seems to respect the invisible line he has drawn between them. Almost as if she can see it as well as he does.

But, perhaps, it isn’t actually as defined for her. For she has no qualms about crashing his pity party on a sidewalk.

"Are you lactose intolerant?" [First name] appears in front of him seemingly out of nowhere.

Oscar takes a second to process what just happened. Even then, he’s still not sure if he’s understanding correctly. ". . . No?"

She nods, almost approvingly, before handing him a paper bag. "Here."

"What’s—" He starts before she can commence her regular habit of disappearing.

[First name], who is already steps away from him, turns back to face him once more. "My dad says it makes everything feel better."

He lets her go after that, albeit her response just made him even more confused.

When he finally opens the paper bag, Oscar finds a spoon, a bottle of water, and a sealed half-pint of gelato in his favorite flavor.

Something in his chest stirs.

The general hospitality is set to house the entirety of the grid drivers for the nth time this season. Another drivers’ meeting is scheduled to start in thirty minutes, and — in true fashion — less than half have made their way up to the room.

By the time Oscar shows up with a pack of others he met on the way, majority of the rookies are already there. Punctuality has obviously not been drained — or, at the very least, influenced — out of their systems.

"George!" Kimi calls for his teammate’s attention as soon as he spots him amongst the crowd that’s barely entering. "Can we adopt [first name]?"

George’s confusion is evident in his stance. Behind him, Oscar needs to stifle an amused laugh. "What?"

"She sang the Italian national anthem for me!" In all honesty, he isn’t following the Italian rookie’s logic. Thankfully, he isn’t the one who needs to respond. "She can also speak Italian!"

He enjoys the view of the older Mercedes driver buffering for an answer from the seat he secured next to Carlos. Even more so when the younger one of the duo pulls out a pleading look with his "please."

He doesn’t know how he found the strength to, but George eventually replies with a non-answer. "You should probably ask Toto about that, Kimi."

"No! [First name]’s ours!" Alex disproves, protectively. "Get your own [first name]!"

"She was ours first!" Charles joins in. The Monégasque likes reminding people she’s a tifoso first, before anything else, during moments like these. He hasn’t quite moved on from the fact that she chose to intern at Williams rather than Ferrari. "Why do you think she knows the Italian national anthem by heart!"

Lewis lets him do all the talking, as Carlos does with Alex. Both seem to have — wisely — figured out [first name] will put a stop to it soon enough, with or without their varied inputs.

And, sure enough indeed, a high pitched sound comes from the speakers built around the room — which instinctively makes everyone cover their ears.

"Princesa!" Oscar can somewhat hear Fernando scold somewhere behind him. "Stop—"

Thankfully, the sound stops within three seconds — and before they actually have to plead for their hearing.

Ever the nonchalant, [first name] merely scans the crowd of betrayed and confused looks before nodding to herself, "Good." It is then that he realizes she used the feedback to silence the room, with the least energy wasted possible.

He knows there’s a chance that might’ve just sent the room into more chaos. After all, they might all be grown up, but they can also a bunch of children sometimes. It was a fair gamble and yet, somehow, she looks like she was completely certain.

He salutes her for that; for having confidence and conviction on par with that of a Formula One driver.

"You’re our race engineer intern, no?" Carlos inquires before expressing his thanks for the printed meeting agenda she handed him and Alex. "Why are you the one doing all of this?"

She shrugs, "Still an intern."

"Do we get one, too?" Esteban asks for the majority somewhere to his left. It’s a fair question, drivers’ meetings don’t usually have the agenda printed out. It’s usually kept hidden from them, to avoid getting them antsy or, worse, letting them organize their protests.

[First name] points to the Williams logo on her uniform. "I’m only required to make Carlos’ and Alex’s lives a little easier."

They find a stack of meeting agenda copies by the front of the room a minute after she disappears. A sticky note on top reads, don’t pass out if they start fighting.

(She becomes their instant favorite to set up meeting rooms. Unfortunately, the FIA has forbidden Williams to let her facilitate their next turn for the same reason.)

The drivers’ rooms are the most private areas in the paddock. It’s where drivers leave their belongings while they’re out and about. It’s where their visitors usually stay to keep out of the crew’s way until the race. It’s where they sneak in a snooze when they don’t get enough sleep from the night before.

However, despite that, the drivers’ rooms can’t be locked from the outside. The McLaren ones, at least, for the time being while their PIN code lock is being updated.

No one knows about the update except for him and Lando, but he still made sure to stash his belongings inside the lockers instead of leaving them lying around just in case. He has faith and trust in the crew, of course, as he has worked with the majority of them for years, but the garage is also an open space. Someone with malicious intent can easily slip in, unnoticed.

In hindsight, it makes the most sense for someone to slip in when either he or Lando wins a race since the garage will be mostly empty then. Thus, a small part of him isn’t surprised to discover that his driver’s room isn’t exactly the way he left it before leaving for the race he ultimately won.

Nothing is taken, thankfully, and the only thing out of place is the sealed half-pint of gelato on the table — which has a spoon tied on it by a familiar handcrafted OP81 bracelet.

[First name]’s.

There’s no meaning behind her very apparent attachment to it. At least, not in a way that is connected to him personally. For all he knows, she only refuses to stop wearing the bracelet — even at the behest of drivers close to her — because of the young fan that handed it to her.

"You don’t have to keep wearing it."

"I want to."

However, nevertheless, seeing the bracelet with his initials and number around her wrist always spark the same unvoiced feeling in his stomach — the one that grew from what stirred in his chest then.

And, somehow, knowing that she intentionally left her prized OP81 fan-made merch behind almost feels like a concession. Like she’s leaving him behind.

That’s an irrational jump in reasoning. After all, they’re not even friends. He knows that — but, apparently, the rest of his body doesn’t. He can easily blame his heightened emotions and illogicality on the adrenaline that hasn’t completely left his body, but that doesn’t make it any less real.

For a reason he is yet to understand, he’s wholeheartedly convinced [first name] isn’t just letting the bracelet go. She’s letting him go, too. And that thought, however illogically sound, doesn’t sit well in his stomach.

He can’t accept the bracelet with the plausible implication it carries. He can’t accept her concession. He doesn’t want to— He doesn’t want her to give up on him.

(He understands nothing. They’re not even friends.)

Thus, like a man with no time to lose and everything in line, Oscar takes off running before he can even comprehend where his feet are taking him.

"[First name]," he calls in relief when he sees her exit the Williams motorhome the same moment he arrives. His voice comes out a little breathless, a little winded from the impromptu run he did around the paddock post-race. He doesn’t care.

"Oscar," she turns with his name on her lips. Her shock is only evident in her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"To return your bracelet," he admits, "and to thank you for the congratulatory gift."

She makes a sound of acknowledgement as the shock filters out of her eyes. "You’re welcome. You can keep the bracelet."

Her words sting, like alcohol is poured over an open wound.

(Ridiculous. They’re not even friends.)

"I don’t want it." He says abruptly, instantly regretting the words the moment they’re out of his mouth. "I mean— the bracelet looks better on you."

"I don’t really like orange."

Oscar swallows down the instinct to correct. Protecting the McLaren papaya pride is the least of his worries at the moment. "It goes well with Williams blue—" there’s a hint of desperation in his voice now. He finds it difficult to swallow— "and Ferrari red."

[First name]’s silence stretches. He begins to wonder if she’s back into being a mere hallucination; if he didn’t actually catch her on time and she’s bound to disappear in front of him any second.

He unconsciously holds his breath, anticipatory and unblinking. Praying, almost.

(They’re not friends.)

Then, finally, the silence breaks with her laugh sounding like scoff. She walks towards him with amusement dancing almost unnoticeably in her features. "Okay."

Oscar exhales in relief. He slots the bracelet back around her wrist with a silent promise even he is yet know.

(They’re not friends.)

The season calendar ultimately reaches the Italian Grand Prix, as it does every year.

Oscar, for someone who had been looking forward to it before the new season even started, has forgotten about it as soon as the new season actually began. In his defense, his plate filled at an alarming rate, especially with McLaren’s steel determination to become this year’s World Constructors’ Champion as well. It doesn’t help that he’s already seeing his only reason every weekend, either.

Well, ‘only reason’ might be a little too vague. [First name] is certainly part of that reason, but a big part of it is the tradition they unknowingly made. At least, that’s what he’d like to think, anyway.

Even if it no longer rings true, especially since . . . then.

They’re much closer since, having erased the invisible line between acquaintanceship and friendship. They still do everything they used to do, but now they aren’t limited to just those. They occasionally take detours now. And sit together, when they happen to take a break at the same hour. They hide together, too, when they crave the quietness of being away from everyone else.

Yet, despite the undeniable spike in their time spent together, their tradition at Monza has never been brought up. Not even in reminiscence.

As such, any thoughts about their tradition only lied dormant until the day of. More specifically, when Oscar finally finds himself sitting idle in the McLaren motorhome with a view identical to where he had seen her appear for the last two years.

It’s a bit too late to phone her to drop by just for the unspoken tradition’s sake. So, alas, all he can do now is will the universe to bring her to the McLaren motorhome for any reason it can think of.

Oscar lets himself wallow. He figures it’s better for him to do it now, since his brain refuses to let him think of anything else. He can’t risk jeopardizing his team like that, in case his compartmentalizing ability decides to fail him later.

"What are you doing?" A familiar voice pulls him back to reality. He focuses back to comprehend [first name] standing just outside of his personal bubble, clad in her Räikkönen tifoso gear. He almost forgot how she looks in them, having gotten used to seeing her in Williams colors for the past several months.

He spots the OP81 bracelet resting on her wrist. Its black and papaya theme compliments her red and white tifoso outfit.

A small smile forms at the corners of his mouth. "Waiting for you."

She tilts her head slightly in confusion, but doesn’t question him. "Sure."

He decides not to alleviate her confusion. He just starts walking towards the door, completely trusting she’ll follow him out. He gestures for her to exit first. "Fernando should be in the Aston Martin garage at this hour."

She obliges. "I know." Unlike the previous year where she actively fought to not walk next to him, she doesn’t even bat an eye when he claims one of her sides as they make their way to the Aston Martin area. "I’ve always known after our first meeting, actually."

Oscar can’t quite believe his ears. "Seriously?" [First name] affirms. He suddenly begins to question their exchanges during his first two years in McLaren, skimming through vague memories for clues. "Then why—"

"I needed an excuse," she shrugs nonchalantly. Acting as if she isn’t singlehandedly rewriting the way he views their little tradition. "I had quite the crush on you."

At the bluntness worthy of a Räikkönen, Oscar stops working altogether.

ᯓ★ it’s a little awkward to have an note at the end bc of my tumblr formatting, but it’s important to me that you guys know that yn definitely got banned on purpose. it’s meant to loosely parallel kimi in that grill the grid ep where he lost on purpose so he could leave, heh.

ᯓ★ also! 5/6th way to finishing this, i realized this prolly would’ve been better if i showed yn’s pov— but that was a lil too late, so osc’s pov had to do. yn’s pov would’ve had more angst in it, too, && idk if y’all dig that. lol. in all seriousness, i hope y’all enjoyed somehow <3

[jewish-microwave-laser]

really good opinion piece by hamza howidy, a gazan man who is living in exile in europe. he was tortured and imprisoned by hamas twice for protesting against them, and now is helping start a new organization called realign for palestine advocating for peace over violence and pragmatism over extremism in activism for palestinian liberation!

i'll also be posting some quotes from this article by themselves bc i've found that the short and punchy posts tend to get more eyes than the long ones

[...] For three consecutive days, thousands of Gazans risked their lives to raise their voices against Hamas, yet their efforts have been overlooked by the so-called pro-Palestine movement in the West and by most of the news media as well. As someone who once tried to protest Hamas and ended up in their jails and torture chambers, I understand what this neglect feels like. I know the deep sense of betrayal that has touched every protester, the painful realization that they have been abandoned, left alone with no one willing to hear them.  It's as if the world has resigned them to a fate of living under Hamas’ rule, as if their suffering is too inconvenient and does not fit into the Western narrative of Palestine, which is why they have forsaken the actual people of Gaza, like me. Last week's protests were a watershed moment for Gazans, when so many in Gaza finally understood the true meaning of fake solidarity ‒ that to the Western "pro-Palestine" movement, Palestinians are not seen as real people with real struggles but as tools to be used in their ideological battles. Not only were the protests ignored by "allies" in the West, but so were the lives of the protesters and all they represent. 

'Pro-Palestine' activists protest for Columbia student. Where are they for protester killed by Hamas?

Hamas wasted no time in going after the leaders of the protests, threatening, torturing and even killing them. The family of Oday Nasser Al Rabay, 22, says the protester was tortured to death by Hamas simply for demanding a free Gaza ‒ free from Hamas and free from war. Where was the outrage from the "pro-Palestine movement" activists? Where were the protests in Western capitals for Oday? Nowhere. Because he did not fit into their ideological framework because his killing was not useful and too inconvenient to their narrative. Meanwhile, when a protester with a distinctly different profile ‒ Mahmoud Khalil, a former Columbia University graduate student ‒ finds himself detained in the United States, the pro-Palestinian activists who claim to advocate for the oppressed wasted no time in flooding Western streets with protests calling for his release. His arrest became an emblem of resistance, sparking global campaigns to bring him home. But what about the young Palestinian from Gaza who, without the protection of international institutions, was tortured to death for his dissent? Oday was left to rot in obscurity, his brutal murder by Hamas nothing more than an inconvenient fact for the same movement that fervently defended Mahmoud. This stark contrast is not only a failure of solidarity ‒ it's also an indictment of the hollow, opportunistic nature of the so-called pro-Palestine movement. Mahmoud, a student in the West, was elevated to the status of martyr. Oday, a young man from Gaza, was left to die at the hands of the very regime that Western allies refuse to confront. The hypocrisy is staggering.  If the pro-Palestinian movement is unwilling to stand with the Palestinians in Gaza—those who are risking everything to break free from the shackles of Hamas—then what kind of movement is this?  If the pro-Palestine movement cannot recognize the bravery, the sacrifices and the legitimate demands of those fighting to end the reign of terror in Gaza, to end this war and to rebuild their city free of Iranian influence, then it exposes itself as nothing more than a vehicle for political expediency. It is a movement that uses Palestinian lives when convenient and discards them when they are inconvenient. If this is the solidarity these "allies" offer, then it is an insult to the struggle for justice, an empty gesture that does nothing to advance the cause of true liberation.

[homunculus-argument]

My usual problem of "and then some other shit happens" is that they keep piling up on top of each other. This morning, I was just about to start work when

mail comes in. I've received a letter from the tax office.

I open the letter and get a Fuck No Way That's Right kinda bill.

time to hit up my accountant and ask what the fuck do I do now

realise that I haven't delivered my accounting stuff for like four months either, gotta apologise to her about that too

e-mail doesn't go through, double-check the address, re-type my whole apology and explanation again

four consecutive e-mails do not go through

fuck I gotta call them, where's my phone

just as I was about to make a phone call, I receive a phone call

forgot I had a phone appointment with my doctor, turns out I do not have a natural physical resistance to poison damage, and my medication resistance is something else.

confident in my ability to execute two unrelated tasks at once, I take a sip of my tea while on the phone. Naturally I fuck it up and pour the lukewarm tea on my lap instead.

figuring that since I'm unhurt and only poured enough to soak my clothes, not my chair, I'll just sit with the wet tea on my lap until the phonecall is over, and hang them to dry on the balcony later.

phonecall done, I remove my clothes and go hang them up to dry.

spot my little ficus tree cutting on the balcony, decide to water it since it's so hot and I don't want the thing to die.

coming back inside after leaving my clothes on the balcony, my boyfriend sees me undressed and wants affection.

he also wants to show me a video that he came upon.

make myself more tea

coming back to my computer, remember the phonecall I was supposed to make.

call the accounting people and tell them I can't e-mail the person I worked with, and get informed that the person I had been working with quit unexpectedly, and the one currently running the whole business on her own will look into my shit once she's personally out of the hospital. She meant to call me earlier about What The Fuck I'm Doing but unfortunately hospital.

promise her to deliver my accounting things today since it's the least I can do to not make her day any worse than it already is.

save through my paypal activities, log onto my online bank, check my account and do some math to confirm that I should more or less be alright until my next payday. Move some more money to my bank card account for groceries, and log out.

remember that the reason why I logged into my bank in the first place was the accounting, and log back in to get that data.

send my records to my new current accountant with apologies for not doing that for four months despite of being supposed to do it monthly.

finally done with that, satisfied of actually Getting Things Done, I suddenly realise I've spent the past three hours on random sidequests, haven't even touched whatever it was that I was planning to do today, and top of that I've completely forgotten what it was that I meant to do.

waste another half an hour writing a meticulous account of how I spent my morning doing everything else than what I meant to.

[ryozakidesu]

Yours, Inevitably - l.jn

2/4 diary of the heartbreakers

summary: ➸ ♡ To say that Lee Jeno is pretty would be an understatement. The man's gorgeous. One thing he uses to his advantage, going through college getting girls he spots his eyes on. But there's one he just couldn't get. His brother's bestfriend. You can continue and avoid your feelings for each other, but eventually, it'll happen. You were someone that stayed, a constant in his life. You might not know it, but for the years you've known Lee Jeno, he slowly became yours, inevitably.

"I should've known it was you, because no one else made sense."

GENRE: Angst, Fluff, Humour, Smut

WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Explicit Sexual Content, Language, Slight Alcoholism, Mentions of Drugs/Weed, fuckboy!Jeno, brothersbsf!reader AUTHOR's NOTE: Holy shit, it's done! I was about to pull all my hairs off for this one :// but i can finally say that it's all worth it! I hope y'all are still here. And I really wish y'all would like this story. Enjoy reading!

WC: 18 k (I tried my best)

DISCLAIMER: This story is purely fanfiction. Only the names of the Idols are used, and does not reflect on them in real life. There's no way in any shape of form that they are like this in person, because I MADE IT UP. I don't personally know them. DO NOT STEAL / TRANSLATE / MODIFY. This is my work and I don't appreciate people stealing it. Thank you.

Enjoy reading! -ryo

Lee Jeno is a phenomenon.

Jeno, on the other hand, likes to think he’s just a pretty boy who kinda knows how to dribble.

Maybe he’s not bad in the actual learning part too, maybe he did get an award for the research paper he did on Biochemistry last year. Maybe he won MVP on three consecutive basketball tournaments, making history in his school as the only player to excel in both the sports and academics.

So yeah. He’s a textbook definition of an A-list student that you would totally see in one of the frames along the halls of this very school in about thirty years, with the trophies and accolades he made during his time here.

You wanna hear what’s even more annoying?

He’s hot. And he knows it. Please, he’s so undeniably gorgeous it's starting to hurt.

Unlike his friends, Jeno keeps it on the down-low. Which was surprising because he had every right to be cocky and brag about all of his achievements but he’s the least show-y among his friends.

In Jeno’s defense, he likes to let his performance do all the talking.

Words on the street says he fucks like an incubus, but talks like an angel. He’s proven to be hung, emphasizing the word proven, based on the girls he had walking side to side after he spent a good, long night with them.

But despite all of that, he’s pretty cool and quiet most of the time.

Which is even more attractive. According to a study based on no-actual-facts, girls tend to like the quiet ones more. Especially when they look like a greek god that managed to escape mythology and then learned to be a legend in basketball instead. In simplified terms, girls like Lee Jeno.

Naturally, of course, girls are all over him. That's something really common between the four of his friends, and you're not shocked that Jeno sleeps around-- because he just can. Girls will literally faint in front of him if they could, just to get his attention.

“Don’t make a sound,” he whispered, desperately trying to finish while a girl, known as Jennie, was bent over the counter. His hands covered her mouth, and to be frank, he just want this to be over with.

And of course, in typical fashion, Jennie is also a name most of the students are familiar with. Cheerleading captain, arguably a girl that’s expected to be with him. What makes it so easy, is that this girl is obsessed with Jeno.

Meanwhile Jeno, had no indication of being tied down. He likes hanging out with her sometimes, sure, but the girl’s way too much for him. Jeno likes being lowkey, despite being one of the most famous guy in campus, Jeno preferred to be outside the spotlight.

A couple more thrust, his eyes closed, mind far from the girl bent over in front of him who’s just desperately wanting to pleasure him, Jeno finishes. He murmured a curse, and as soon as the feeling of cumming washes off, guilt starts creeping in his veins as Jennie smiled in satisfaction as she fixes her uniform.

“God, you’re still so fucking good,” Jennie put her hands around Jeno’s neck, biting her lips in hopes to seduce the cold man in front of her.

“Come on, my brother’s gonna be here soon,” Jeno shrugged her hands off, fixing his shirt. He did not even get the chance to take it off, Jennie just went and got what she wanted as soon as she enters the apartment.

Don’t be mistaken tho, Jeno liked having sex, more so with a girl like Jennie. But Jeno’s consciousness can’t help and tell him that he’s stringing along this girl, knowing full well he’s not even one bit interested in pursuing a relationship with her.

Jennie never really cared about what he thinks tho, so that kinds of shaves a bit off of his guilt.

“Call me, okay?” Jennie tried to give him a kiss, but he’s fast enough to dodge it.

Jeno sighed as he walked the girl to the door. And in some wicked timing, his brother opened it, his step stuttering as he saw Jennie, but never minded the fact that the girl is walking side to side. Jisung, his brother, have seen this situation way too much before that it doesn’t shock him anymore.

Another footstep followed behind Jisung, You, not even sparing a glance over him, walking behind his brother. You looked bored, giving absolutely no interest over him or Jennie. He never really got bothered about it before. He’s just wondering when you started ignoring his existence like this.

You were nothing like the girl he witnessed growing up all these years.

The sweet smiles you used to offer him were all gone. The once cute little y/n that he knew were long gone. But what can he do, that’s just how it goes. Right?

People change. And you weren't an exception. But deep inside, Jeno has this unsettling sensation that hunts him at night. This isn’t you. You used to light up the room whenever you walked in. You used to make him believe in butterflies and rainbows and shit, but now, you’re just… there.

Jeno often wonders. But that’s about it. He’s way too much of a pussy to actually read through your chapters that led into this character you have now. So Jeno, the ever so nonchalant, settles in being curious– not concerned in finding answers.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

You were twelve, when you met Jisung.

At first, you’re confused. There’s a new family that moved in next door. It was a common occurrence in your neighborhood, really. In your very-long life experience of twelve years, you’ve seen countless families moving in and out. So you question in your pretty little head why your Mom is way too excited about this next one.

Turns out, the family that will be moving in is your Mom’s best friend. You were twelve, you did not care about your Moms friends like that. Apparently, they’ve been best friends ever since they were five. They just kept in touch all these years.

“I'm Jisung,” the little boy, an inch taller than you, reached out his peculiarly large hands at you.

You felt your Mom nudge you a little bit, so in annoyance, you accepted his hand. “Y/n.”

Both mothers shrieked in excitement, but you were busy trying to examine this boy's hands.

Little did you know, that handshake would lead to years of friendship that you’d forever cherish, no matter how annoying this boy with freakishly large hands is.

“Who’s that?” You ask, still helping Jisung to count all his pokemon cards. You point outside their house, by the courtside next to their pool.

Jisung looks, but rolls his eyes after. “That’s my big brother, Jeno-hyung. He’s obsessed with basketballs.”

Your little twelve year old eyes sparkle, watching the boy shoot hoops around the court.

“Ew, you like boys?!” Jisung, disgusted.

“Your brother isn’t a boy, You’re a boy. He’s a man.” You sigh dreamily in sight of Jeno, making Jisung gag.

“He’s old, like, fourteen. Please, he’s a loser! Playing with balls all day,” Jisung says as he waves his hands in an attempt to distract you from his brother.

“Oh well…” you didn’t let it falter your adoration towards Jeno.

And before you could even watch him longer than you wished, Jisung’s mother called you two in for clubhouse sandwiches, and she made banger sandwiches so you really had to follow up to the kitchen.

You were fourteen, when you realized you had a crush on Jisung’s big brother.

“That’s bullshit, the paranormal movie is full of crap!” Chenle, your new found friend, complains as soon as the movie ends. His high pitched voice woke you up, not even realizing you had slept halfway through the movie.

“Dude, it’s from CCTV footage. It’s definitely true!” Jisung counters, and you just want to go back to sleep again.

The Paranormal Movie was mediocre, and maybe you were just a sceptic, but ghosts just doesn’t do it for you. “Most of these horror films really just depend on jumpscares to be scary.”

“Oh, coming from Miss Little poopy pants over here,”

The room went silence over Jisung’s attempt at a clapback, you and Chenle looking at each other before breaking into a laughing pit.

“Poopy pants? Really?” You say, refusing to believe that Jisung still used that term as an insult.

Jisung, obviously flustered, resorted in grabbing two cushions, one at each hands and started throwing them at the both of you.

“Just get the freaking potato chips downstairs.” Jisung says, specifically to you.

“What? No! I’m not going down there!” You say, as you bury yourself further on Jisung’s bed.

“Because you’re scared?” Chenle, in a mocking tone. You flip him off, to try and cover the fact that you are scared because it’s night time and the lights are off.

“No, ghosts aren’t real. Why can’t Chenle go?” You whine even more.

“He already got the drinks, and this is my house so what I say goes!” Jisung grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the bed.

And because you like proving your point that ghosts aren’t real, you let out a grunt, stomping your way out of Jisung's room.

Your way down the stairs goes smoothly, the light still being on. But as soon as you turn to the dark kitchen, that’s when it creeps in. Yes, you do not believe in ghosts, but you’d be fooling yourself if you say that being alone in the large empty kitchen didn’t scare you.

“Oh, god.” You whisper to yourself, as you desperately find the chips cabinet. Rummaging through as quiet as possible, but also trying to find it as soon as possible.

But when a noise from the table interrupts the creepy silence, you can’t help but yelp out a scream.

“Oh my gosh!”

You turn your head towards the table, just to find a cute little cat that had lost its way through the big surface.

“Thank God it was just a little cat,” you say in relief, but as soon as you try and step closer to it, a name being called from the stairs can be heard.

“Bongsik-ah!”

So it has a name. Bongsik.

A figure walks down the stairs, obviously, being Jeno.

You immediately fold into yourself, biting your lip as soon as he enters the kitchen.

“What are you doing down here?” He says as he carries the cat off the table and on his chest. It took a couple of seconds for him to look at you, and he smiles.

“Y/n-ie. Do you need something from the kitchen?” His soft voice snaps you from the trance, as he helps you with the chips you were trying to get from the upper cabinet. His body was so close to you as he did so, that you swear you can feel his heart beating.

“Y-yeah.. Just those chips. Thanks.” Your entire demeanor changes when it comes to him.

“Here you go,” He says softly, you wonder if he intentionally talks to you like that, or it’s just how he talks. A little bit inside you likes to believe you’re special and that he does this only to you.

“Thanks, uh– new cat?” You say in the most casual tone you could ever produce.

“Yep, a rescue. Mom brought it home the other day. Jisung freaked,” He chuckles as he looks at the cat, snuggling in his chest.

You awe in sight, wanting to pet the cat but you hesitated at first.

“You can pet it,” Jeno moves his body to yours, to allow you to pet Bongsik. You did so, and when the cat purrs at your touch, you gasp in awe.

“Hi Bongsik,” you say in a whisper, intended for the cat only. But you can feel Jeno smile at you.

“You can visit her everyday, not that you’re not here everyday, but she’s gonna be here starting now..”

“She’s adorable,” you say, still petting the cat in his arms.

“I love cats, any pet really. But cats just really bring out the inner softness in me, y’know?” Him being this close to you feels weird and intimate, but it's not like you hate it. Your heart is practically doing jumping-jacks right now.

You use him focusing on Bongsik as an excuse to look at him, even just a glance.

You get a closer look on his face, the mole he has under his left eye, the thin lips and his perfect nose. In the two seconds you allow yourself to take a peek, you convince yourself that you had his features memorized now.

You can just feel that it’s just gonna live with you forever.

Because as he takes Bongsik away and starts walking back up the stairs, you make a big-girl realization that you do have a crush on Lee Jeno.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Jeno was woken up by the sound of his phone ringing. It was his brother, Jisung, calling in the middle of the night asking for his keys.

“What do you need my car for?” Jeno, frustrated as he grabs his keys from the night stand.

“My car broke down and Y/N really needs to get home.” Jisung on the other line also sounded like he just woke up. Jeno curses under his breath.

This wasn’t the first time he heard his brother in trouble with you being the main source of chaos. It’s always the same thing. Either you’re black-out drunk, or one of your boyfriends has dumped you on the side of the street.

Over the years, you had changed so drastically it almost gave him a whiplash. You used to be so careful and so paranoid about drinking, waiting until you turn 18 to get a sip of alcohol. And when you did, it’s like you never stopped.

So despite Jeno’s interrupted slumber, he gets up and leaves his shared apartment with his friends, just to wait outside his building for his brother. And surely, just like every other time this has happened before, he finds Jisung standing there in the cold.

“I need my car tomorrow, in pristine condition. One scratch and you’re done,” Jeno, tossing the car keys to his brother.

Jisung didn’t bother to answer, depicting the reality of brotherhood. But before Jisung could leave, Jeno turns to him.

“What happened this time?”

“She’s really–”

“Drunk?” Jeno finishes his sentence, as if he had seen this before. Jisung sighs in agreement.

“--yeah, and Chenle’s drunk too so he can’t drive her back to the apartment.”

“What happened to her? She isn’t really like this, at all.” Jeno dared to indulge in one of his curiosities.

“I’ve been asking the same question, hyung.” Jisung ends the conversation without really answering Jeno’s question, which frustrated him more.

Because of course, nobody really knows what happened. It’s a question he needs to ask you, directly. Only if you didn’t spend the last few years avoiding being on the same vicinity as him, then maybe he could actually talk to you.

“Three seconds left on the clock, Lee, for the three.. He shoots… and bang! Lee Jeno has done it again!”

Jeno thinks it’s getting way too easy for him. Winning at this point just felt like a routine for him. The new normal, it’s just how it goes around him now. Everytime the other team makes a mistake of letting him have the ball, the game ends with Jeno taking home the win.

Honestly, it’s getting pretty boring and predictable.

“That’s my fuckin’ man!” Yangyang, one of his teammates, excitedly hugs Jeno as he entered yet again another victory party for his team. It’s his second one this semester.

“Okay, dude, chill.” Jeno pushes the very drunk Yangyang away, afraid of getting thrown up on.

As he sinks his feet deeper into the party, he starts getting loose. The alcohol hitting the tense spot in his body, reminding him that fuck it, he’s the man of the evening. This party is for him. So why not have fun, right?

The music starts to sound less chaotic and more tolerable, and the people start to get blurry. Weed and alcohol really does the trick, Jeno thinks.

“Jeno, the man of the hour! That game was lit!” Jeno’s not sure who’s this man, but nevertheless, he still smiled at him and let him dap him up. He blabbers more and more about Jeno’s career path in professional basketball but just like always, Jeno just dismiss it.

It’s too early to plan for the future. He’s enjoying what he has now and content on just thinking about what happens today.Tomorrow is tomorrow’s problem, and he can’t be bothered to be bothered about what his future brings.

Some people likes to think they know what’s best for Jeno, and sometimes it does make sense, Jeno getting to the professional basketball league, in tune to what he does best now. But fuck that. Jeno doesn’t want to be in a box full of other people’s expectation of him.

“Jaemin’s not here?” Jeno finds relief to hear Renjun’s voice, one of his very few trusted people. In some way, knowing Renjun was here by his side, it made him feel that he’s okay.

“Yeah.. he’s still locking himself out.” Jeno answers.

Jaemin was his best friend first, and he knows Jaemin well. And for the first time, he knows Jaemin really do need time for himself. This isn’t something Jeno could fix, he knows when to step away. So he lets Jaemin be.

“Haechan?”

Jeno saw Haechan earlier but he’s not sure where he is now. That’s just how he is. He’s probably in one of the rooms upstairs, on his way to ‘pound town’ in Haechan’s terms.

In typical Jeno fashion, he tolerates some annoying congratulations for a bit, give fake smiles and forced handshakes before finding his way to escape the crowd. Although it’s difficult because again, this party is thrown for him and his team, he still finds a way.

And that way has a name. Yunjin.

“Ah, Jeno,”

At the back of the party, there's a huge backyard, large enough that if he’s with this girl fucking around at the very end of it, he’s sure no one will notice. His hands roam freely against the girl, letting her know his full intention. Not like she has no clue, the hands up her skirt gave her enough hints.

“Hmm,” Jeno hums, just to satisfy the girl’s pleas.

But before it gets further, a rustle of the grass made him stop his tracks.

Someone’s here.

“Wh–what happened,” Yunjin was confused as to why he suddenly stopped.

Jeno furrows his brows, and tries to look at whoever was on the back of the big oak tree.

“Sorry! Sorry– fuck, carry on, please!”

The familiar pitch of voice made Jeno move away from Yunjin. He knows who it is behind the tree. And he suddenly has no interest in going home with Yunjin.

You stumbled out of your hiding with a bottle of alcohol on your right hand, your left trying to pathetically cover your eyes as you tried to walk.

Jeno hates it. He fucking hates how drunk you are right now.

“Oh shit, Jeno!” You peek at the gap in your fingers that was covering your eyes, to see him looking at you with a mix of emotion you can’t make out. He’s not angry, but he’s definitely not amused.

“I–,” you burped, “I’m not here..” you followed with a laugh, finding all these hilarious.

“Don’t mind me!” you laugh again.

Jeno murmured a curse. “Yejin, I’m sorry but I need to go,” he says in finality, not even waiting for the girl to answer as he walks straight in your direction.

“It’s Yunjin! Ugh!” The last words he hears from the girl before she stomps away.

He shakes his head as tried grabbing your arm, to help you at least find a stable balance. He grabs the alcohol out of your grasp harshly.

“Hey, what the fuck!” You whined. You tried to chase the bottle, but with his hold on your arms, you failed to do so.

“Y/n, please, fucking stay still. You’re very drunk!” He says in a strict but stable voice, not wanting to rile you up even more.

“Give me it,” You whined again, much softer this time, and with no attempt at grabbing the bottle.

He looks at your struggling figure, eyes almost closing as you stumble against his hold.

“Ah, fuck it,” he curse one more time before propping you off your feet, carrying you in a bridal style.

“Hey, get me– Oh my gosh! Help!” You yell, but followed with a giggle, which made the people around you think that the situation is not something to be worried about. And they know you and Jeno, so him carrying you just makes sense.

He hates this version of you. He hates how this character you have is so far from what he knew you from. He hates that you find comfort in drinking, partying and sleeping with other men. He hates that whatever happened, it completely changed you. He hates that he cares.

“What the fuck are you staring at?” Jeno can’t help but to lash out at some people who gives him and you a judgemental look. He despises people who judge you.

He finds an empty room upstairs, and he puts you down gently. You dress is up to your waist now, so Jeno pulled it down. He opened his phone to text his brother to let him know you’re with him. He knows Jisung will be worried at your whereabouts. He also texted Chenle, to make sure that they know you’re safe.

He grabs a clean washcloth out the bathroom, and soaks it with cold water.

“I’m not… I am drunk.” You say, swaying your head left to right as you lay in the bed, trying to grab at whatever’s the softest around you.

He sat a foot away from you, but still reached his hands to your face to gently caress you with the soaked towel. This might help sober you up.

Speaking of being sober, Jeno entirely forgets that he’s also intoxicated. For some reason, he sobered up. Seeing you in this state made him think that he needed to straighten up and get you out of here.

“What the fuck are you doing to yourself, y/n..” he says under his breath, as he gently brushes the towel on your face. Seeing you deep in sleep now, he sighed.

You used to be so bubbly. You were sweet as honey, as bright as the sun. He still remembers how your eyes lit up every time you would talk to him. As he looks at you right now, it’s still the same features, the soft ones he grew to know, but he knows that once you wake up, you’d be a stranger again.

He sighed in defeat, and stood up. He was about to get water for you, before the door opened.

“Jeno,” It revealed Qian Kun, a man he heard is your boyfriend. Not sure about the boyfriend part, but he’s sure that he hangs out with you a lot these days.

Kun was his senior, basically the smartest man on this campus. Famous for his 5.0 GPA, this Kun guy really is a genius. He used to get notes from him, back when he was writing for his research paper. He had no idea how you two met, but it’s really not his business.

“She was in the backyard, drunk as fuck.” Jeno says, looking at your peaceful figure.

“Alright. I’ll take it from here,” Kun says, walking past him, around the bed to get to your side.

He can hear Kun murmur a pet name as he caresses your hair. Jeno felt the need to roll his eyes.

“Next time, keep an eye on her. If you can’t handle her, maybe you shouldn’t be with her at all.” Jeno didn’t care if he sounded harsh. He needs to let Kun know that you need to be taken care of properly.

“You don’t know her, Lee. So I suggest, keep your mouth shut and mind your own business.” Kun snapped back, standing up to look back at Jeno.

“Oh, I knew her long before you did. But I agree, she’s your business. I just hate to fucking deal with it because you can’t fucking seem to do it yourself.” With that, Jeno walks out the room.

And even if Jeno sounded secure, he can’t lie and say that leaving you with another man didn’t affect him, even just one bit.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Looks from other people don't budge you at all.

They can stare at you, even whisper some bullshit about you, you really don’t give a shit. There’s nothing they can say that you’ve not said to yourself.

“You really should take it slow with the alcohol, y/n.” The first thing Jisung said as you sat down beside him. You rolled your eyes, and looked at him.

“Not you too,” You say rather exhaustedly.

“Especially me too. I’m your bestfriend and I’m just worried.” Jisung wasn’t the type to give out unsolicited advice, a serious one at that, therefore you sighed.

“It’s college, Jisung. We’re supposed to have fun.”

“Not to a point where other people have to take care of you.” That came out rather harsher than what Jisung had intended, but you really need it. You know it too. You just refuse to believe it.

“You don’t have to take care of me.”

“If not me, then who? You’ve been passed out drunk for the third time this week, y/n. I don’t know what definition of fun you have, but I think it’s not this.” Jisung was scarily serious now. You blink to try and process the seriousness of the situation.

You gulp, realizing that Jisung isn’t in the mood for your snarky comments right now. “Alright, damn. I’ll take it down a notch..” you say and look away from him.

You can’t blame Jisung for acting like this. You know that you’re spiraling down, you just refuse to accept it. In your head, this is just how college life goes. You get drunk, have sex and maybe a little bit of homework here and there. In your head, this is how it should be.

In a fucked up world, it is. But your world is already fucked up. So in a way, it just makes sense. To you.

“You have to get better,” Kun’s words rang in your head.

“This is the best I can, Kun. Chemistry isn’t really my thing,” you turn your homework down at Kun’s table. You were here after class, hoping to get help from Kun.

Despite popular belief, Kun isn’t your boyfriend. You’re too fucked up to commit into a relationship, no matter how good Kun is. Matter of fact, Kun is just the perfect man for that role. You can see yourself going straight with him, like your life might just take a turn for the better.

However, no matter how evil you see yourself as, you’re not that evil to give Kun the burden to have you as a girlfriend. You can’t do that to him.

And you did clarify that to him before sleeping with him. That whatever you have, just had to stay that way. He can’t expect something more. Surprisingly, he agreed. Qian Kun, the guy that has so much credentials because of his undeniable intelligence, the guy who rejected Harvard and Stanford, agreed to have a stupid set-up with a girl that’s one step away from actually losing it. Why?

You have absolutely no idea.

“I’m not talking about your homework, my love.” He says, sighing. You know that sigh very well.

You look at him, your eyes stoic as they can be. “We’re not having this conversation.”

Kun closed his eyes as he let out a deep breath. “You need to have this conversation. Lee Jeno had to carry you upstairs, in front of everyone last night. You were so drunk that you threw up all over yourself and you think that’s okay?”

Oh, so that’s what happened. He had to rescue you. Out of all people, of course it had to be him.

“Look, Kun, I didn’t come here to be judged. I was stupid for drinking that much, I know. But it’s not gonna happen again.” You say matter-of-factly. This is the second time this day that you had to promise to someone that you’ll be drinking responsibly. You feel like everyone is ganging up on you.

“Okay, sweetheart. Okay, calm down.” You didn’t know you were standing up until Kun pulled you from your wrist to sit back down.

Kun smiled at you and kissed your forehead, before sliding your homework back in front of you again and clicking his pen. “Let me see your answers…”

You’re glad he decided to drop the topic, but before you could even say thank you, an aggressive knock on Kun’s office got both of you to look up.

“Y/N! I know you’re in there! Qian, open your fucking door!”

You widen your eyes. “Fuck, it’s Yeonjun!” you say, standing up and grabbing your purse.

Kun looks at you, before looking back at the door. You can tell he had a very concerned face, but as soon as another man’s name fell out of your lips, he knew right away what situation you’re in. He pinched the bridge of his nose due to stress, and stood up.

“What is it this time?” He asks, not that he needed to.

“He’s just… Ugh, I told him we were over!” You say, feeling bad that this situation is happening in front of Kun. The knocks are turning more aggressive.

“Y/N, you slut!” Another loud bang from the door.

“I’ll deal with him.” Kun says. You immediately shake your head in disagreement.

“No! I’ll go. You don’t need to–”

“I’m not letting that man harass you, y/n—”

“No, Kun. I’m not letting you deal with my problems anymore.” Before Kun could even say anything, you opened up the door to see a very angry Yeonjun.

Kun rushed to your side, but you didn’t let him get in contact with Yeonjun and slammed the door shut.

“You’re gonna ghost me and you think that’s funny?” Yeonjun seemed to calm down, seeing you in front of him.

There’s quite a crowd that’s forming in the hallway, some have their phones out, some whispering whilst looking at you two. Not that you care.

“Let’s talk outside—”

“Yes, you’re coming with me after I punch that–” Before Yeonjun could even finish saying it, you looked him straight in the eyes, pointing at him.

“You’re not touching Kun,” you say, full of conviction. If there’s anything you could do for Kun, its that you will protect him from getting tangled with your mess.

You pulled his wrist to get him out of the building.

At the end of the day, there’s one thing that could shut these kinds of men up. It’s getting real easy, one thing you do for them and they’ll behave like a dog. It’s getting laughable, really.

So you shut them up. By doing what you do best.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

You were sixteen, when you got your heart broken for the first time.

“Stop looking at my brother, you weirdo.” Jisung threw a pillow towards your position on the couch.

The soft object hit you right in the noggin, earning a grunt as you pulled your eyes off of him.

“Bitch. It’s not my fault he’s getting hotter by the day. Damn,”

You were busy staring out the pool area, where Jeno and his friends are hanging out. You were at Jisung’s place, spending your summer in the most boring ways.

Good thing Jeno’s gorgeous self is here, entertaining you. He’s so pretty, you could just eat him up.

“No he’s not. He’s a nerd!” Jisung fights back, earning a smirk from you.

“Says the one who's summer plans are to play league of legends until he becomes a ‘Challenger’ .” You retort, cranking your neck back to where Jeno was.

You recognize his friends, of course. They’re starting to gain popularity in the school, especially when Jeno got on the basketball team.He’s been working out a lot, gaining extra muscles, toning his body to get even hotter. If that’s even possible.

“Eugh, Jisung, y/n’s drooling over Jeno-hyung again.” Chenle enters the conversation, with a soda in his hand and plops himself on the couch.

“I am not drooling!”

“I got something you can drool on.” Chenle’s awful snark earns a hefty punch on his shoulder from you, the boy laughing in a high-pitch tone that makes it even more annoying than it is.

“Anyways, I think he likes me too.” You sigh dreamily, remembering the things Jeno does to you specifically.

He always carries your bags for you. He’s always the first person to welcome you into their house, and the first person to ask if you’ve had breakfast yet. He offers you rides to school when he sees you walking, and he always asks how your day has been. He’s so charming, so nice and you just can’t help but give at least a little bit of malice into it.

I mean, there has to be something, right?

“Oh she’s crazy. She’s fucking insane!” Chenle dramatically gasps, and points at you like you’ve committed a crime.

“That is seriously concerning, y/n. The level of delusion– my god.” Jisung joins in, as he pauses his game to look back and judge you.

“You two are just haters. Get off my ass!” You flip them off, with two hands, each one gets a middle finger from you.

“Look, y/n, we’re just sparing you from getting your little heart broken. Jeno-hyung does not like you.” Chenle’s tone becomes more serious this time, but in your head, he’s wrong. If Jeno didn’t like you, then why would he get out his way just to walk you home whenever you leave their house way too late?

“Seriously. You guys, I really think he’s the one for me. I mean, I can’t really think of any other reason as to why he’s so kind to me, y’know?”

Jisung looked at Chenle as if he really cannot believe what he’s hearing from you. Chenle shakes his head left to right, disappointment spread all over his face.

A set of laughter broke your conversation as you three faced out the pool side, to see Jeno and his friends now actually playing in the pool. Jeno then went on the edge, the ones in front of the back door where you were looking from, and pulled himself out of the water.

The trinkets of water dripping in his hair was one thing, but his wet body being revealed in front of you, the perfect curve of his shoulders down to his small waist, and the veins in his arms definitely woke something up in you.

“Yeah… I’ll confess to him tonight.” your voice almost sounded strange, like you were in a hypnotic state, still mesmerized by Jeno.

“Jesus christ, y/n–” before Jisung finishes, Chenle interrupts.

“Dude, let her. This is her canon event.”

You had no idea what that means, and you’re not interested to know. One thing’s in your mind, Jeno will be yours by midnight.

9:56pm

It’s like the heavens planned it all out for you.

Jeno’s friends all left, as to your surprise, because you thought they’d at least spend the night. Jeno had always offered to let his friends stay, but this time, he asked them to leave before 6. Which is odd, yes, but this all favors you in a way.

Chenle and Jisung still visibly opposed to your idea, and you’re sure they had reason to think its not gonna work out, but it’s not like it matters to you.

Whilst the three of you are in Jisung’s room, you can hear the TV on the lounge area. Their parents are out of town this summer, something about a cruise, so that means, it has to be Jeno.

In your mind, it’s the perfect timing. It’s deep in the evening, the moon’s out, and there’s never been an opportunity where you’re brave enough to actually confess.

Your heartbeat notches another tempo, as you leave Jisung’s room, much to the two’s dismay.

Before you could get to the lounge area, you’d have to pass the kitchen first.

A couple more steps, your feet turning cold, but you still managed. But before you can get a glimpse on the couch, your name was called.

“Y/n?” It’s him. Fuck, it’s him!

Okay, so he’s in the kitchen. That’s fine. Take a deep breath, You just gotta talk to him!

“Jeno,”

You took a step closer to where he was, and he’s looking extra delectable with his white shirt and grey sweatpants. Not that there’s been a moment where he didn’t look good.

“Are you going home? Ask Jisung to walk you home, I kinda—“

“Jeno, I want to talk to you, actually.” Now your voice trembles, and you’re starting to feel nervous.

“Oh, okay. Sure, what’s up?” Jeno looks to be still oblivious to your anxious state. He puts down the wine that he was holding, and turned to you completely.

You gulped, finally looking up to his eyes. He had a shadow of smile on them, but was still curious on what you had to say. You're mere two feet away from him, yet his musky scent still invades your nose.

God, all of that can be yours.

“But you’d have to say it fast because I have—”

“I like you. Very much.”

The deafening silence engulfs you, and only the sound of your heartbeat was prominent. Him, on the other hand, eyes wide, mouth ajar.

“—and I know this is so sudden but I’ve liked you ever since we were kids. I’ve always thought you were cute and nice to me!” You tried to fill in the silence, because every second that passed with him not saying anything kills you.

Another second passed, and your nervousness is long gone, because it was replaced by an impending doom.

“Y/n, look, I really appreciate it but… I-I’m just being nice.. I have to be nice. You’re my brother’s best friend—”

Fuck, shit, fuck! This cannot be happening!

“Oh, my, god!”

A high pitched voice behind you tores the tension in the air, and when you looked back, you saw Eunmi, with an amused look in her face, then covering her mouth with her hands.

She let out a laugh, as if he finds all of this ridiculous.

All of a sudden, you can’t breathe. Your heart was about to explode as you looked back at where Jeno was, seeing two wine glasses behind him. The movie in the background, still playing.

And it all just stops.

“That’s so cute!” Eunmi screeched, before walking towards Jeno and snaking her arms around him.

“Babe, I was wondering why it’s taking so long, you didn’t tell me this girl is pouring her heart out to you! Awe,”

You can feel your eyes warming up. You had so much left to say. But your voice can’t be found. The heart ache was too loud for you to even utter a word.

And in the end, all you could say was, “I’ll.. go home.”

Then you were gone, every step with every tear drop, and although you expected it to hurt, it still surprises you how painful it was.

You’re glad he didn’t run after you. You can’t be more pathetic than this, but it would kill you for him to witness your vulnerability.

Jeno was your first love.

And then Jeno became your first heartbreak.

With all the smiles he brought you, you never thought he could cause you so many tears.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Is it wrong to be this young and this tired?

You look at yourself in the mirror, analyzing every inch of your body. On the contrary, you don’t hate what you see. You’ve worked so hard to attain the body that you have now, and you’re satisfied where you’re at.

But there’s an empty feeling in your stomach that never left, and you can’t seem to figure out what it is. It’s always been there.

“Get back to bed,” You hear a disgruntled sound from the bed, and immediately your smile fades. You’re pulled back to reality, one that you hated to be in.

“I’m going home,” you say, before grabbing your clothes and putting them back on.

You don’t know why you do this, but you wait before walking out the door, for a sliver of a second to see if the man on the bed even attempts to ask you to stay. And just what you expected, he didn’t.

Sometimes you wish you’re worthy of being asked to stay, but who were you kidding.

There’s a deep routed scar that you’ve been trying so hard to cover. You like to think that the antidote that you have for it works, but the way you’ve been stuck in the same situation all over again says otherwise.

You thought you were healing, but the truth is, you just stopped feeling.

All your life is ahead of you, they say. But yours feels far behind.

You don’t really know where you went wrong, you thought if you became pretty, everybody would like you. You thought that if you agreed to sleep with them, they’d appreciate you. You thought that if you change your entire personality, they would start to see you.

Where did you go wrong? You dyed your hair blonde, you worked your body to achieve the hourglass figure and you even went ahead and let every man that looks your way to have you. Isn’t that enough?

See, this is why you hate being sober. You hate being alone with your thoughts, because it drowns you. You start thinking of things that overwhelms you to the point of tears, and you hate crying. You’ve already done too much of that before.

So why does everybody hate you for drinking? If that’s the only escape you know? It isn’t fair.

“I’m losing my mind,” you say, biting your nails and jerking your knees in frustration.

“Jesus, you’re like a crack addict without crack for a day.” Chenle says as he looks at you.

“She hasn’t had alcohol in a week,” Jisung says as if he’s proud, smiling at you.

You roll your eyes. You’ve been trying to stray off alcohol ever since Jisung and Kun asked you to. You ought to at least try, because you owe them that. On the latter part, if it didn’t work, and you spiral out, you can at least say that you tried.

“Ah, fuck it.” You say, but before Jisung freaks, you clarify, “I’m just gonna smoke for a bit, grandpa.” You say and dashed out of his dorm, down to the parking lot.

It’s winter, and the snow has already covered the streets. The cold was always your favorite season, it gives you reason to just stay inside and cuddle up in your cozy room.

You open up a new packet of cigarettes as you stand outside basking in winter air. It’s especially windy today, you thought.

The heat of the smoke traveling through your lungs was refreshing. It rivals the coldness of the wind, creating a balance that hits you just right. A perfect combination of sensation to combat the numbness in you.

Before the light hits the filter of the cigarette, you hear a screeching sound to your left.

It was a car, no, it was his car.

You mentally curse, throwing the unfinished stick to your feet and stomping on it. You frantically try to walk back up the building, but as you hear the car door slamming, you take a deep breath.

“Smoking’s really bad for you,” Jeno says, walking towards your direction.

“You basically run off of weed and gatorade, Jeno.”

Although you did try your best to keep walking, Jeno catched up in a couple of steps. You stood together waiting for the elevator.

“Is Chenle upstairs, too?” He starts.

“Yeah. Congrats on the game, Jeno. Sorry I had to ruin your night,” you followed it with a slight laugh, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Nah, it’s fine. Didn’t wanna stay in that party anyways,”

The elevator finally dings open, you hesitate to move at first, but when Jeno enters the lift and looks at you, you take this as a sign to walk in with him. So walk in you did.

“Kun took care of you, right?” He asks. You badly wanted to look at him, but you chose not to.

“Yeah.. he’s a great guy.” You silently say, not feeling good about the conversation.

“Hm,” he paused. The suspicious tone made you look at him, anticipating what comes out of his mouth next.

“I saw you walking out of Yeojun's dorm last night tho.” He says as if it was nothing, as if it was a little detail he had to tell you. But the underlying idea behind his statement was obvious.

You hitched your breath. No, y/n. Fight back.

“What can I say, I’m booked and busy.”

“You’re— that’s not something to be proud of, y/n.” He states as if he’s running out of patience, now looking back at you.

You smirked wider, “Oh don’t be a hypocrite, Jeno. You do the same damn thing,”

He grunts in frustration. “Yes but you’re different, y/n!”

8… 9….

“Different in what way? Because I’m a woman? And this isn’t what women do? Don’t give me that bullshit,”

“Fuck that, you know that’s not what I meant. I’m just protecting you from what people think about you.”

10… 11… 12…

“Jeno, I want you to listen to me carefully.” You took another step closer to him, looking up to level your face with his. “—whatever you heard about me, I want you to times it by a million, and when you think it’s bad, make it worse.” You whispered.

You tilt your head to hover your lips on his ear, “And guess what, who knows, maybe they’re telling the truth.”

And as soon as the elevator hits the 15th floor, you walk out without looking back.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

You were a lost cause.

Jeno thought he just needed to accept the fact that you’re just never gonna be the same.

He doesn’t know why it bothered him so much, the fact that you’re not letting anyone help you. It never bothered him before, and so, it shouldn’t bother him now.

It’s not his fault that you turned out to be this way. It’s not his fault.

So he distracts himself. Both in ways of basketball and women.

He tried to go back to his old ways, back to where he’s safe. He was doing fine, before you plagued his system. Plus, it’s not like he didn’t try, he damn did try.

Maybe this version of you is the real you. Maybe this is what’s meant to be.

“Holy fuck,” Haechan eyes the woman who walks out of Jeno’s room, obviously checking her out. Jeno just rolled his eyes and spread his arms around the back of the couch. Dragging a long hit of the weed he seemed to never get run out of.

“That’s the third girl this week, Jeno. Are you trying to break my record?” Haechan scoffed, as if proud of his friend.

“I’m not trying to break anything, but if you want, I’d gladly break your nose.”

Haechan put both his hands up, taking a step back because out of all of them, Jeno’s the one who could really do it. And he’s not trying to risk his beautiful face.

“Dude, this is bad.” Renjun was the second one to comment, following Haechan. He looked at Jeno’s state, and he can tell something’s not right. There’s something bothering Jeno, and Renjun can’t exactly tell what.

He had an idea, but he’s sure as hell won’t tell it to Jeno’s face.

“What? I have two weeks before the game. I need to relax.” Jeno says, ignoring the concern in Renjun’s face.

“And this is relaxing to you?” Renjun grabs an empty bottle of beer, one of the many that’s scattered all over the place.

Jeno didn’t answer, letting a sigh out of his lips and closing his eyes. He can’t think straight right now, or in the past week. He had been sleeping with different girls, to the point where he ran out of bed sheets to use. His room stinks of sweat and axe body spray, and he can’t seem to be satisfied, at all.

“I don’t know, Junnie. Just… leave me alone.” At this moment, Renjun can’t help but sigh. It's these kinds of moments where he knows that Jeno needs someone. Where the one month gap in their age really shines and Jeno needs his older brother, Renjun.

He puts down the plastic bag of trash and sat beside Jeno. “Look, Jeno. I’m not gonna sit here and ask you what this is about, but this is starting to look really sad. Jaemin is already down, and I don’t need you broken too. I can’t handle Haechan by myself,” Renjun, in an attempt to lighten up the mood.

“Junnie, just let me be, okay? I swear.. this will pass.”

“I sure hope it would. Because you can’t fix someone if you’re broken yourself. That’s just plain dumb.”

He grunts, and cursed deeply because he know’s Renjun’s right. But how can he, when it feels like he’s stuck? When has everything, but he feels like he’s got nothing? He has a great future ahead of him, he knows that, but why does it feel like something’s missing?

Girls, money, fame. What more could he want?

In a split second, Jeno regrets asking himself that question. Because he feel like he knows the answer, but he really doesn’t like it.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

“Lee Jeno, what the fuck was that?!”

Yangyang pushed Jeno, but instead of fighting back, Jeno just shook his head. He raked his fingers across his hair as he sat at the bleachers.

Thank fuck this isn’t the actual university game. Because if it was, they’d for sure lose the first quarter and Jeno will have his first ever loss written on his otherwise squeaky clean reputation.

“Don’t fucking yell at my face.” Jeno’s voice thundered.

“Five hundred dollars are at stake, and Minho would not let us live if you lose against him, Jeno.” Yangyang’s voice was a lot more controlled, but still angry, nonetheless.

“Man, I don’t really care.” Jeno let out an unenthusiastic chuckle, drinking out of his tumbler.

“What?” Yangyang feels like he’s mistaken. Lee Jeno doesn’t care if he loses? In a basketball game, that is? Oh he truly thinks the world has turned upside down.

Before he could even ask his friend again, Minho starts shouting from the other side of the court.

“What, Lee Jeno? The magic doesn’t work now, doesn’t it?” Minho yells, earning a laugh from his teammates.

“Fuck you! Games not over, bitch!” Yangyang yells back, full of confidence but looked back at Jeno, worry splattered in his face.

“Dude, I swear, we need to put that son of a bitch back in his place!” Yangyang angrily whispers.

“I’m gonna sit this one out, Yang–”

“How about we bet on that y/n girl?! Your brother’s friend, right? Heard she spreads it open to just about anyone who looks at her funny!”

Without even thinking, Jeno’s fast on his feet, and his vision turns red. His fist curled up and his logical thinking was out of the window. His vision is straight at Minho, and his only thought is to knock this bitch out.

Yangyang couldn’t even process anything, as he watches Jeno’s eyes darkens and before any of his teammates could even try and stop Jeno, his fist already connects with Minho’s face. The boy fell down, immediately knocked out, and chaos between both teams ensues. But Jeno didn’t stop.

He’s not letting Minho get up.

“Jeno, slow the fuck down.” He heard a concerned voice at the corner of the nearby club he went to. His feet dragged him here after the incident, wanting to drown himself with anything that could take away his mind from everything.

One shot, two shots, three shots, four.

“I’m paying you, Doyoung, aren’t I?” Jeno says, rolling his eyes at the older man in front of him.

Doyoung was another person Jeno trusts. Besides the three idiots back in his apartment, Doyoung is also the one Jeno’s comfortable with.

“Yes, but I don’t want to report an alcohol poisoning inside my bar, Jeno.” Doyoung can tell Jeno’s done for the night. Slumped over his counter, he forces the shot glass out of Jeno’s hold.

He signals one of his co-bartenders to take over the bar for a bit, before dragging Jeno’s body out of the bar. He notices the bruising at the boy’s hand but he didn’t say anything and drove Jeno home.

“I don’t want to go back to my apartment, Haechan’s there with a girl,” Jeno mumbled, slowly getting more and more sober as the fresh air wakes him up.

“Where’d you want me to bring you then?” Doyoung asked.

“I don’t know… fuck.. just, bring me back to my brother’s.”

Thankfully, Doyoung knew Jisung’s apartment. He’s close with both of the brothers, often being mistaken as a brother as well. But after graduating, he just naturally went off and did other things.

Doyoung huffs as soon as he successfully brought Jeno in front of Jisung’s apartment, however, another problem was that Jisung isn’t answering the phone.

“Jeno, I really can’t stay here with you, I just sneaked out of my shift,” he explains, but Jeno just dismissed him and nods. Doyoung knocks at the door before he left, making sure that if there was a person inside, they’d open the door for Jeno.

Jeno wasn’t as drunk as earlier, that’s for sure. What’s left is the pounding headache plus the fact that no one’s opening the door for him.

Out of sheer frustration, he kicks the door, strong enough to make a banging sound but not hard enough to damage it.

“Fucking Jisung,” he murmured to himself, almost turning his heels to walk out, but before he could, rattling on the other side of the door can be heard.

Jeno sighs in relief, but seconds after it opened, what greets him almost knocks the breath out of his lungs.

“Shit, Jeno.” Your soft voice matched your soft expression as you look at him with obvious shock.

Jeno, on the other hand, didn’t want to extend the painful awkward silence.

“I-Is my brother there?” Stuttering was never Jeno’s thing. Until this moment, he thinks.

“He’s… he’s like, I think at a girls place somewhere… fuck, I think her name’s Jieun or some shit..” Your eyes take turns in blinking, but still standing straight— conflicting the idea that you’re drunk. Well, at least not y/n drunk.

“Then why are you here?” He didn’t know why, but his hands automatically grabs the door knob to swing the door more open to see if you’re inside with somebody.

He just needs to know you’re alone.

“I crash here sometimes… when I’m locked out of my apartment.” You shoulders where slumped, words were coming out slow. Jeno can tell you’re not sober.

He can’t say shit because he’s not in an exactly sober state as well. So he just proceeds to walk past you to enter the dorm.

Technically, Jisung’s place is his place too. Their parents fixed it up for the two of them but Jeno chose to stay over at his shared apartment with the other boys. So he can do whatever he wants to do.

The entire place reeks of weed, and the floor has two empty bottles of Soju. He almost threw up, he hates Soju.

“Jesus fucking christ, Jisung.” He murmured as he picks up the trash, forgetting that you were standing behind him baffled.

“I’m sorry about that…” Of course it’s yours. Of course you’ve been drinking again. Fuck him for thinking that it’s his brother’s fault. Because it’s would always be you.

Jeno stays quiet. He’s not in the best mood to even look at you. Everything that’s been happening to him recently is because of you. He hates that he blames you, but he can’t just think of someone else.

“Jeno...” Your soft voice calls for him again. It took everything from him to ignore you, and walk back to the kitchen and throw all the trash away.

He’s hanging by a thread, and he starts to realize it’s a bad idea to stay here for long.

He takes a deep breath and walks towards the door, but before that, he felt a tight grip in his arms.

“Jeno.. talk to me.” The sultry voice you had did not go unnoticed, and Jeno couldn’t help but stop his tracks.

Don’t break, Jeno.

“Jeno.. please look at me.”

He forces your grip out of his arms. It kills him, so much to hear you like this.

“I’m leaving,” He managed to say, however, his feet says otherwise. He’s standing still, not even another step out the door.

“You’re not, please. Just… just look at me.” Jeno heaves, his hands turning into fists as he tries and compose himself.

Just this once.

He turns his heel and immediately surrendered. The moment he let his eyes on you, he already lost the game.

“Why don’t you want me?”

He gulps. He bit his lip to stop himself from saying anything, because he doesn’t trust that he’s not going to say something he’s not ready to say.

“You’ve had so many girls.. Jeno, why not me? I’m…” You paused, you look left to right as if you’re finding words to say. “..I’m better than all of them.”

“Y/n—“

“No! Fuck it, Jeno! There’s no fucking reason why you won’t fuck me! It doesn’t make any fucking sense!” Jeno hears ringing in his head, the string of patience threatening to snap.

“Why? Explain to me fucking why you would fuck all those bitches and not me? I swear.. Jeno, I’m good— fuck that, I’m the best—”

“I’m so—”

“Ask half of your team.”

In that note, the last thread he was hanging on to snapped. You want him? Fine. Take it.

He grips your arms and drags you inside of the room, and in his peripheral view, he can see your demeanor changes. Now, your eyes are mischievous, and your lips turning into a smirk.

“You want to fucking play that game? Fine, I’ll fucking play with you.” Jeno almost growls, letting you sit on the bed as he slams the door shut.

“Strip.” He orders, in the most dominant voice he has.

You bit your lip as you look up at him. Slowly discarding your clothes one by one, but not breaking eye contact with him.

His eyes were dark. So dark that you can’t tell anything that’s on his mind. His jaw tightens at the sight of you almost stripped off of your dress.

“I’ve been so fucking patient with you,”

The dim lights shone at his back, as he craned his body down, standing before you. Nearing his face unto yours, the mirror on the side of the bed depicted something out of a dark fairytale, a silhouette of a beast trying to tempt an angel.

But in reality, the angel had already fallen. Deep and hard. The beast didn't even have to do anything.

"Tell me you want me," he says.

"I do, Jeno. I really want you," And as of this moment, you lost the battle you've fought for all these years.

"All this time, huh? You're still lusting over your best friend's brother?" Now, his tone was slightly teasing. His once gentle hands on your cheeks turned possessive, his grip getting tighter.

"Dirty, dirty, dirty little girl. Bet when you fuck those boys, you think of me, don't you?" His thumb on your lower lip, parting it softly.

"This is your chance, y/n. Tonight, I'm yours. Just tell me the words," his whispers turned deadly, as his own lips are almost touching yours.

"J-jeno.."

"Pretty, pretty, pretty..." His words spit like venom. Every movement of his lips gave you a tease, your entire body burning with desire.

Your mind was under his control, and you completely and utterly surrendered to him. He's not yours— you're his.

"—Please," you finally choked out, and like a green light, Jeno kissed you with hunger, pushing his entire body weight onto you forcing you to lay down on the bed.

“I thought you won’t beg anymore?” The cockiness in his voice would usually prompt a reaction from you but you don’t care anymore.

This time, his hips close the distance between your bodies, maneuvering his knees to position between your legs. Careful not to crush you, he kept balance of his weight as he pushed his hip further, creating a slight friction between your clothed core.

After what it seemed like forever, his lips traveled down your neck, and almost immediately you can feel that he's gonna leave a mark. You'll definitely leave with a painted neck.

His hands expertly went under your dress, grabbing your breast, squeezing them ever so slightly. It doesn't take a full minute when his hands went around your back and unclasped your bra like it was nothing. All while he was focused on kissing every part of your skin.

Of course he's good at this.

Just then, he pulled away but only to pull your dress up and completely undress you. He took his time looking at your exposed body.

"You're so fuckin' perfect," he mumbled more so to himself as he admired you. He leaned in again but this time his mouth landed on one of your breasts, sucking them deftly.

"Shit, Jeno," you can't help but moan his name, grab the back of his head to level yourself. You pulled his hair, and you didn't know if he likes it, but with the way he groaned gave you a hint that he does.

As he keeps himself busy, his hands go down to your clothed core. Goosebumps ran down your body as his middle finger traced your slit, already feeling the wetness you've desperately hid before.

"So fuckin' wet, and all for me. Am I right, baby?" He whispered, you answered with a whiny 'yes' that it almost sounded like a stranger.

"Lemme' take this off," he quickly pulled down your panties, only to be welcomed by your soaking wet core. Jeno was ravenous, like he's been starved all his life.

The room was dark, only a dim lamp providing some light, but the wetness in your pussy glistens and reflects, that Jeno swore he's never seen something so beautiful. You're beautiful, and he's gonna make you feel just exactly that.

You can hear his belt buckle, him swiftly taking all his clothes off.

"God, I can never get used to how fucking pretty you are, my pretty little baby," he mumbled again, to himself.

"Who was the last guy you fucked, baby?" Jeno asked, catching you off guard. He was pumping himself as he looks at you, and you never thought he would ask such question.

"Wha-- why? I don't kn- probably—" Your speech cut off when you looked down at his moving arms, to see all of him.

You've heard rumors. You knew he was packing. But good God, he's so fucking big. Almost knocking the breath out of your lungs. You're starting to get worried if it would fit.

"Doesn't even matter.. everyone else doesn't count. Just me.”

He then pressed his finger down in your core, finding the clit right away. Rapidly circling his finger, and a wave of pleasure started to form. "Oh fuck--," you moaned.

He dove down to kiss you, this time passionately. Much softer than before. Only for you to feel his finger entering you that you went crazy. Not long before he added another,pumping it swiftly in and out. He moved away from your face to watch your expression. And he fucking loved it.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum-" you whispered.

"Go on, baby." Jeno, encouraging you even more, fingers going faster.

"Shit.. oh my go-" and then it hit you, your first orgasm of the night. Jeno's face was all you can see, and his fingers was all you can feel. Your brows furrowed, mouth agape, you felt like you can't control your body. Jeno's lips was also parted, as if he gains pleasure from watching you reach your climax.

"Good girl," he groaned.

"Need more, Jen. Please," begging was never on your vocabulary, until now.

"Shh, no need to beg, baby. I'm more than willing to give you all," his sweet words acted as an aphrodisiac, igniting the fire in you. As if you needed him to be even more sexier.

Because it was dark in the room, your sense of touch is heightened. Every touch lingered, and its as if you were touch deprived your entire life. Jeno brings out your true colors, and you're not mad about it.

"Make you feel good," he whispered more praises, and you can hear him pump himself as he aligned his length onto your aching core.

"Oh my god," you can't help but gasp, the stretch overwhelming you. You've never taken someone this big before, and it fucking felt like its your first time. Not in a painful way, but because you've felt a whole new sensation.

"S' wet, baby, fuck, you're choking me," in a low groan, Jeno slowly bottomed out. He sits fully inside you, and you can feel every single inch, every single vein. It felt so raw, and so right.

"Hmm, fuck, fuck you feel.. fucking hell. S' good." You never expected Jeno to be this vocal, and you weren't complaining. You always thought he didn't like being vocal, but damn, were you so wrong.

"Jeno.." you moaned, and you can already feel your impending orgasm. Its just that good.

Before Jeno could even find a pace with his thrust,, he pulled out. Your eyes opened in confusion, from the abrupt emptiness.

"Fuck this," Jeno was fast on his feet, you wondered where he was going, but before your mind settles on a conclusion, you were blinded by bright lights.

"Need to see you properly," he reasoned, before he went back to the position he was before.

With the lights on, you can now see his perfectly lean body, toned abs and the sweat beading on his sideburns. He looked so hot that you could cum right there and then.

"So fucking beautiful," Jeno never failed to compliment you, as he stares at you before sliding it in again. For the second time you gasp, but because he slid it in so swift that you didn't even get a second to breathe before he pounds.

"Oh, fuck, Jeno!" you squealed, your entire body rocking back and forth with how rough he was.

His hands grabbed your left leg and hooked it in his shoulder, all the while he kept the fast pace of his thrusts. You can see his face twist, him biting his lips and looking up. His expert thrusts made his abs flex everytime. The sight was stunning, and for a second there you were lost. You can't believe other girls had seen this before you.

The orgasm you fought so hard was out of your control now, and you knew you weren't gonna last.

"Jeno, I'm gonna cum," you tell him, and he switched his position in no time. "Together. Cum with me," he muttered.

"Come inside, Jeno. I need it so bad," you were slurring words at this point, so barbaric with the feeling.

He unhooked your leg and leaned forward. Your body now pressed together as he wrapped your legs onto his waist, his hands finding your neck, holding it steady as he touched his forehead with yours. His piercing eyes were hyper focused on yours.

"Eyes on me, baby. Fuck, please," he moaned, his tempo going even more rapid and desperate. Both of your mouths was wide open at this point.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck!" he stilled, as you both reached climax. He emptied himself inside you. You can't help but moan in a high pitch as orgasm washes over your entire body, an intense wave brought you to euphoria, and you never wanna leave.

"Damn," he whispered, almost in disbelief on how it felt to be with you. Still giving you everything he had, every single drop.

"Jeno," you called out once you relaxed, hoping to get him back to his senses.

"Wait- just.. shit." he managed to mutter despite his weak state. He's still wrapped around you, tight as if you were disappearing. Not to mention he's still balls deep.

A solid minute has passed when he decided to pull out, both of you hissing at the feeling. You felt so empty, and he felt so bare.

And when Jeno closes his eyes, he accepts defeat. You’ve successfully broken him.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Sooyoung, Minnie, Hoyeon, Yoonah.

So far, those are the names that you gathered.

It doesn’t take a long time to figure out what Jeno likes, based on the girls he’s been with. They’re all hot, popular with the boys, and if not the same age as him, they’re older.

The other common denominator is that they all have experience. When Jeno started sleeping around, you would only see him with women who’s expected to be with him. Like those women who knows how pretty they are, who’s aware how to handle a man like Jeno.

So when you finally turn eighteen, you did not waste time.

“Do you think I look hot in this, Ji?” You ask innocently, looking at your best friend through the mirror you’re standing in front of.

He barely looks up from his nintendo switch, and when you make eye contact, the look of disgust on his face makes you roll your eyes.

“Your freakin’ ass is hanging off that skirt. You look like a…” Jisung turns his head towards Chenle on the other side of the room, playing on his playstation.

“…hooker.” Chenle finished the sentence for him. You hide a smirk.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you!” You did a curtsy, before grabbing your purse.

“Wait, where are you going?” Chenle asked as soon as he paused the game to see you walk towards the door.

“NCU is throwing this party for the new basketball team, got an invite from Jungwoo.” You gave Chenle a wink, knowing it would annoy the heck out of him.

“What?! Why do I not know about this?!” You flinched when Chenle says the first word in the highest octave possible.

“Probably because we’re not in NCU’s college department yet? The party’s exclusive for college students, dumbass.” Jisung says boredly, bringing his attention back to his nintendo.

“Except I got an invite, you losers didn’t!” And just for extra annoyance, you stick your tongue out to mock them.

Chenle only huffs, but takes his phone out of his pocket.

“Invited or not, I’m going. I’m sure your broke ass would take up a free ride to the party,” He says as he waits for someone on his phone.

“And how do you plan to enter the party, dimwit? You don’t have an invite,” Jisung asks.

“I’m Zhong fucking Chenle. That’s my invite.” He smirks, grabs his keys and your wrist. You flew a kiss towards Jisung and left his apartment.

Booming music, strobe lights. The bass vibrates through the wall and honestly, this is way too extreme from what you expected. This is the first real party you had attended, where you’re specifically invited.

Jungwoo was someone you knew, from one of your girlfriends. He’s three years ahead of you, making him a year older than Jeno. And to be frank, Jungwoo didn’t peak your interest at first. But when you knew that he’s in Jeno’s friend circle, you figured that maybe, you do like Jungwoo.

“Hey,” Someone from behind you whispers on your ear, making you whip your head. You saw Jungwoo, head hangs low just to whisper. He displays a playful smile as he hugs you.

But before you could even tighten his embrace, Chenle took a protective stance, putting his arms in between. “Woah dude, chill out.”

Jungwoo chuckled, putting his hands up. “Zhong, calm down,”

You immediately give Chenle a look of confirmation, “I’m good, Le.”

“Just making sure.” He says and steps back. He patted Jungwoo’s shoulder in a sense that he’s good. Chenle has always been protective, in literal terms. Jisung however, is protective in a motherly kind of way. In short, Chenle’s fights, Jisung nags.

“Why don’t you talk to Jaehyun? Heard he’s interested in taking you in the team.” Jungwoo says making Chenle widen his eyes, a breathless ‘really?’ coming out of his lips and Jungwoo nods. You pushed Chenle to go find the Jaehyun guy and before you know it, you’re alone with Jungwoo.

“He’s really into basketball, huh?” Jungwoo, sounding amused.

You on the other hand, start roaming your eyes around the room. You’re here for someone, and you need to know if they’re in this party, or else this would be a huge waste of time if he’s not here.

“Yeah, he basically worships Stephen Curry.” You looks at him, to at least try to entertain the boy.

“Mm-hm.” The way his hands crawl into your waist so naturally was a shock to you, but you don’t say anything at all. He starts walking and with his hands attached on your body, you can’t help but walk with him.

“So.. where’s the team?” You really did try to prolong the moment you’re with Jungwoo, but you just can’t stay still without confirming if he’s here.

“They’re upstairs. Some of my teammates doesn’t really like hanging out with too many people.”

“How about you?”

“I was waiting for you, pretty.” Jungwoo flashes a smile, someone could argue his most defining feature but then again, you have your sights on someone else.

True to his words, Jungwoo brought you upstairs, where it’s more intimate with a few people. There’s a lounge area in front of a bar and that's where you spot the certain someone you’ve been looking for.

And as expected, he has a girl with him.

“Hey, guys, uh– this is y/n.” Jungwoo awkwardly introduces you to everyone, including Jeno who at first was shocked at your presence, but soon enough replaced with a certain tension in his eyes.

You did a small wave, still shy at the amount of eyes on you. These people are legends on campus. They’re basically the school’s pride and seeing them acknowledging you was amusing. And Jeno, like the perfect man that he is, just fits right in.

“Hi, I’m Juyeon,” He extends his hands, so you, a person who doesn’t like leaving people hanging, gladly accepts it.

And everyone else follows suit, except Jeno. He was looking at something else, not even the girl he’s with. He’s fixated at his beer can, looking at it very seriously.

“Jeno?” Jungwoo asks, questioning why the boy didn’t acknowledge you.

He looked at Jungwoo, and he was about to answer but you did it for him.

“We know each other. I’m friends with his brother.” You smile at Jungwoo, and he seemed to understand it so he just lead you to the empty spot on the lounge.

They started talking, but your attention was on Jeno. You realized that this is his crowd, quickly you found that he’s very different in front of other people. He’s more talkative, that’s for sure.

But your eyes also catch the soft touches he graces the girl beside him. The whispers he gave, the smiles and subtle kisses on the side of her head. His arms around her and the jokes he tells just for the two of them.

It has been years since he rejected you, yet the pain still stings.

You took your eyes somewhere else, made easy as Jungwoo starts to caress your shoulder. He leaned below, matching your face. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you smiled at him. You weren’t, but you’re obviously not gonna tell that.

He hands you a shot of what you assume alcohol, with his eyes anticipating your next move. This is the first time you’re drinking without Chenle or Jisung around, and you’re unsure if this was okay.

But with everybody starting to look at Jungwoo’s waiting hand, the shot clearly for you, you start to panic. There’s no way you’re gonna embarrass yourself in front of these seniors.

So you suck it up and took the shot. You’re not sure, but you got a glance from Jeno that tells he’s not happy with your action.

The taste of the alcohol was strong, but somehow your throat didn’t burn. Yes, you definitely felt it heat up your taste buds but not bad enough for you to hate it. It’s like a sensation that hypes up your system.

And so, with your new found information, you were more confident in taking shots now. And exactly that you do.

But with the amount of liquid going in, it has to come out. So you excused yourself to the bathroom to pee. You assured Jungwoo you were okay, because heck yeah, you’re fine.

Not until you actually stood up. Good thing you didn’t stumble, but shit, your world is spinning.

You bee line straight to the bathroom and relieve yourself. It took a couple minutes before you finished washing your hands, and as you walk out of the restroom, you were met by a figure clearly waiting for you to finish up.

“J-Jeno,” you muttered, moreso in surprise.

“Y/n what the hell are you doing here?” He whispers, angrily of course.

“Jungwoo invited me!” You whisper back, leaning on the door behind you to balance yourself.

“Where’s my brother? Chenle?” He looms over you, and all you can think about is his luscious lips, mere inches to yours.

“They.. Chenle came with me, Ji stayed home..” You answer, despite being in a trance. The entire place is spinning, but not Jeno’s face. It’s there, in front of you.

“I need you to find Chenle and go home.” He says in finality, expecting you to follow. You knit your brows, as you take in offense over what he’s doing.

“What? I’m invited here!” You whined.

“Find Chenle. Now.” The growl in his last words made you slightly intimidated, not to mention his eyes burning holes into your own.

God, he’s so handsome.

You don’t know if its the vodka, or just plain recklessness that gave you the idea of just tipping on your toes and try kissing Jeno.

It made perfect sense in your head. Your hands cupping his cheeks obviously caught him off guard, but before your lips touch his, his reflex of pushing you off was unfortunately faster.

He shoved you harsh, causing you to stumble and almost losing your balance.

“What the fuck?!” He yells.

Your heartbeat went quicker. Everything started to process. Jeno looks so mad, he huffs and wiping his palm against the part of his face that your lips had touched.

“I-I’m s-sorr—”

“I have a fucking girlfriend, y/n!” He spits, words felt like daggers through your chest.

“Jeno, I’m sorry. I was out of—” Your eyes start to burn.

“Are you that desperate? I rejected you already, didn’t I? I will never look at you different than being my brother’s best friend, y/n! So stop this fucking delusion while I’m being nice.” Jeno points his fingers at you, making you flinch a little bit.

“Jeno, please.” Your tears are now slowly flowing. You attempted to grab his wrist to make him stay and listen to your apologies but he swiped it off like he’s disgusted to be touched by you.

“No, y/n. You’re like a sister to me. It disgusts me to even think of being with you romantically. So please, know your fucking place.”

With that, he walks out and leaves you broken.

You don’t understand. You did everything by the book. You looked pretty, you knew how he liked girls. You made yourself into his fantasies and he still can’t see past the fact that you’re just his brother’s bestfriend.

You take a deep breath between the sobs, calming yourself down. You felt horrible. You felt so sick and embarrassed. You felt so fucking desperate and pathetic that you just want to numb yourself of the pain.

You grab your chest, having difficulty breathing from crying too hard.

This is way more than a broken heart.

You’re no longer consolable, and there’s just no way you’re going back there with your makeup now ruined.

Are you that hard to want?

Are you that hard to need?

The tears don't stop as you walk out of the party. Gladly, everybody’s wasted so nobody noticed you ugly-crying.

As you turn to an alleyway, you shoot Jungwoo a text saying you got sick, and Chenle saying you got an uber home.

With your 7-inch heels on your hand, in the cold street, you walk in shame.

Bare feet on the sidewalk, shivering, that's when you noticed a bar.

Your feet prompted to enter, so that you did. You were going to drown the pain, and there’s nothing in your mind except alcohol.

You hoped that it would ease the pain.

And it did, the effects of it giving you a temporary memory loss. This was the numbing you needed.

The sensation of alcohol gave you solace, and for a while, your thoughts melted into nothingness.

Staring at the shot glass in front of you, you made a promise to your eighteen year old self.

That if Jeno doesn’t want you, you’ll make it your life’s mission to make everyone else crave you. You don’t need Jeno.

You’ll never be rejected again.

And just as soon as you felt like you can breathe again, your phone buzzed.

[2:34am] jisung: y/n, come home, quickly. it’s your mom.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

It was odd to say the least.

This has been what you’ve wanted for so many years. You prayed— and begged the heavens for Jeno to finally take you, to prove that you can get him.

And now, you’ve proven your point.

But why does it feel… strange?

Yes, it was the best sex you’ve had, and it might be the only one that could make you feel that way. It was mindblowing, it was everything and more.

Isn’t this the goal? For him to actually step over that line of being your best friend’s brother?

What else did you want?

Honestly, you don’t know anymore. Hence, you sneak out of the apartment in the middle of the night. Jeno was laying on his stomach, the comforter covering his lower half. His back muscles spread across the sheets and you take the art in. He really is sculptured to perfection.

You managed to put on your clothes and walk out of the apartment building. You find yourself in a nearby convenience store, walking through the isle finding something you didn’t know. Your mind is blank and empty.

These are the times where you wished there was someone to guide you to what you should do next. Because you have no idea. You’re confused, and you need direction.

These are the moments where you wished your mom was here. She would know what to do.

For a while, when you were with Jeno, you felt warmth you’ve always been trying to find from somebody else. With Jeno, you actually felt like sex wasn’t only about pleasure, but it’s also about being able to express unspoken feelings.

Sex wasn’t something you just needed to get over with. It felt amazing, It was perfect.

But it clicked too, that you know yourself was the only one who really appreciated it. Jeno— was in for the satisfaction. He never needed you like you needed him. You talked him into sleeping with you. You were begging for his touch.

You pushed him to a point where he just snapped and gave you what you’ve been desperately chasing him for.

And for what? Probably for you to stop. He was throwing scraps at you because he’s tired of that one girl who keeps chasing his tail. He just gave in, expecting you to finally give up.

Then it hit you. Your fourteen year old self, your eighteen year old self and your twenty-two year old self still has something in common.

You realize, that all the hard work, the wall you desperately tried to build was a fraud. Because at the end of the day, you never lost feelings for Jeno.

No matter how many people you’ve been with, it’s still gonna be Jeno for you.

That makes you laugh. In both ridiculousness and despair. Hopelessness felt eerily familiar.

Silly you, for thinking you’ve moved on.

Jeno is inevitable. And you’ll learn to accept it too.

As you reach up the isle and grab a bottle of Soju, a hand stops you.

“My love, are you okay?” A soft voice that you haven't heard in a while.

“Kun,”

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Jeno knows he’s royally fucked.

He gave into your trap, and you’ve successfully defeated him. All his morals, his beliefs, and the logic he stands on was out the window.

He knows you planned it out too. This was your way of taking revenge on him, when he repeatedly rejected you years ago.

He tried to keep his distance, because he promised.

And he takes his promises seriously, especially when it involves you. And he felt like he broke the one thing that’s keeping the promise he made a couple years ago.

You weren’t supposed to end up in his bed. You weren’t supposed to still want him after everything he’s done. You weren’t supposed to even be involved with him. He’s supposed to stay wherever he is, on the sidelines, silently protecting you.

But it’s all been done. You and Jeno did it, and it cannot be reversed. And now that its happened, there’s not much he can do. He has to hash things out, he has to fix everything.

Because no matter how many women he had before, no matter how many times he tricks himself, he had always felt like it wasn’t what he’s been searching for.

And when he finally had a taste of you, he’s afraid he’s gonna want more. And he’s afraid that he’ll never feel the way it felt with you. He’s horrified that what happened opened his eyes with what’s the truth.

And when he felt the other side of the bed cold, he opens his eyes and you’re gone.

Yeah, this is just a game for you.

But for him? Oh, he’s eternally fucked. The shame, the guilt, and everything in between creeps up. And not of you, he’ll never—ever be ashamed of you. He’s guilty about the fact that he let himself get carried away.

Out of frustration, he hits his steering wheel as he drove. He can’t believe he just did that.

He was drunk, you were clearly not in the right state of mind. Even if you were, he was still drunk. What happened was fucked up, both for him and for you.

He takes a deep breath before pulling out his phone.

He carefully types, calculating everything he needs to say.

[7:35am] to: y/n

hey. dont say anything to my brother. it was a mistake, i was drunk. i don’t really like you like that.

He sent it quick, afraid he’d delete it if he hesitated longer. And just as he did, he felt his whole chest stiffen.

Because once again, he lied. Both to you, and to himself.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

You woke up through the sounds of your phone ringing. It was the next week after the whole thing happened with Jeno, and you’ve not craved anything but sleep.

Kun never asked questions. Which you’re thankful for, but you can’t help but feel bad.

You ghosted the guy, again, but he welcomed you into his apartment with open arms like nothing happened. His smile was there, the warmth of his embrace still the same.

Before you could even say anything about your guilt, he’s quick to tell you that it’s okay. He’s with you because he wants to. Although you can’t give him what he wants the most.

In a perfect world, if you weren’t so fucked up, you’d be with Kun, no questions asked.

You were lucky it was the weekend, and you’ve got no class. So you just laid on Kun’s couch, binging away, rotting in the cushions. Kun doesn’t mind, he says its better than you going out and drinking.

Which is true, plus you just can’t physically get yourself back up and doing what you do before, after what happened with Jeno.

Jeno, Jeno, Jeno. Fucking Lee Jeno.

It’s like a curse, following you all throughout your existence. He’s like a ghost stuck in your hip, a burden you’d beg to get off of you. There’s just no way you’d have to carry these feelings towards him until your seventy, right? Jesus.

Your head whips at the door when you hear it open, not expecting Kun to come home so early.

He’s not here ‘til 7, right?

“Oh, you’re still here.”

Well, you’re right. It’s not Kun. It’s his lovely roommate Ten. Note the sarcasm on the lovely part.

“Yeah.” You backed down to the couch.

If there’s anyone annoyed at your presence, it’s definitely Ten. You think he harbored the anger and disappointment Kun should’ve had with you— like some sort of anger translator.

“Your roommate must be overjoyed having your place for her own.” He says, with feign casualness in his tone.

“She’s doing fine,”

“I mean, at this point, you’re gonna have to pay your share with the rent.” He scoffs as he puts down his bag harshly on the counter.

You let out a deep breath, reminding yourself that this is also his place. You’re not in a position to return his attitude because you, in your own thoughts, are aware that you’ve overstayed your welcome.

“Kun says its okay–”

“That’s–” Ten’s voice in a high pitch, but quickly calming himself down. “--that’s because Kun can’t say shit to you. I don’t know if you noticed but my friend is literally insane for you. And of course, you like the attention.”

You can’t help but look at him, your mouth slacking due to disbelief of what he just said. You bit your lip and paused, not wanting to say things without thinking about it first. Again, you're not in a position where you’re purely innocent in this situation.

“What do you want me to do? Tell me. I’ll leave right now.” You managed to calm your tone, avoiding any more discussion.

“What I want you to do is to be straight with Kun, y/n. I know you’re used to being a player, but Kun isn’t. He agreed to your situationship because you weren’t ready. You ghosted him for a few weeks and still he took you in even tho I fucking knew it was a dumb decision because he’s just hoping to be with you again. If you’re not planning to be with my friend, then just fucking make your decision. I know you’re not that cruel to string him along. He’s a good person, y/n.”

His sudden outburst caught you off guard, but every word he said was like a slap to you. Every sentence was nothing but facts, and you knew deep inside that you were in the wrong. That Ten was right. Kun is way too good for you. He does not deserve this.

You felt your eyes starting to warm, for a hundredth time. You nod in agreement. However, you can tell he wasn’t finished.

“He’s not your back burner, y/n. And I’m not saying this to you because I have a problem with you, but I’m saying this because he’s my friend. At first it was fine, but when you treat him lesser than what he deserves, I just feel like you’re being.. really selfish. It’s clear that you have your eyes on someone else. But please, Kun doesn’t do this type of shit. He’s way too naive. Poor guy thought he did something wrong.” The last sentence hits you the most, thinking about Kun probably did think that he’s the one to blame.

You sniff, nodding along Ten’s statement. “I will… I’ll talk to him.” You quietly say. Ten just looks at you before sighing, walking towards his door. As soon as his door closes, the front door opened.

“Sweet cheeks, what’re you doing?” Kun asks, seeing you standing on the doorway staring at nothingness.

You immediately wiped your tears and looked at him with a smile. “Really sad netflix movie,” you excused. Kun doubts, but chooses to stay silent. He walks two steps in front of you before giving you a warm hug like he does everytime he sees you at his apartment.

You gulp, gathering courage to actually start the conversation.

“Uh, Can we talk?” you nip at the bottom of your shirt.

“Of course, princess,” The old nickname he had somewhat felt like an assurance that he’s still the same. It lifted a bit of weight in your chest.

You sat in one of the chairs, not knowing what to do. This place was once your safe haven, now it just feels strange knowing what kind of situation you are in.

“So, uhm, I want to apologize for.. essentially cutting you off. It’s just that, uh, I’ve been–”

“You’ve been with Lee Jeno, right?” he asks, a ghost of a smile still present in his face.

“Well, yeah, but also, I didn’t know that I had that much of a relevance in your life so...” you say, honestly.

“Darling, you were everything.” he pauses. “--but I know that I’m not what you need, or what you wanted. And that’s fine. You don’t need to feel bad, it’s just how it goes.”

“But I’m here, and I promise you, that you don’t need to feel responsible about how I feel. I’ll be fine.” He smiles, like he used to, but this time you know it’s fake.

“Kun, you’re too good for me. You deserve more than me.” Your eyes start to water, but Kun never lets it drop. He caresses your cheeks for what it feels like the last time, before nodding at you.

“I know, baby.” He leaned closer, lips slowly grazing yours. As you felt it, the instinct of kissing back was swift, but Kun did not give you the chance of doing so as he pulled away.

“Don’t kiss me back, please,” he mumbled, before caressing your face for what it felt like the last time before turning away.

And just like that, you lost the man who was ready to give you everything for a man who can’t even spare you a glance.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Jeno is still out of his mind.

He had flunked out of practice, only attending a couple times out of the two weeks that he needed to attend. Barely even there, just standing and basically lifeless in the court.

His coach and his teammates already feel less secure because of Jeno’s state of mind, especially when he’s supposed to be the team’s captain. He feels like shit, truly, and he knows he should be focusing on the game. But how can he, when all he can think of is you?

His coach gave him a hard talking but even that can’t seem to shake him up. His willingness to play disappeared like it was nothing.

He’s pretty sure the entire team hates him now, and if only there’s time to replace him, they’d definitely do it, but finding a replacement, with his skills, is basically impossible. Moreso in limited time.

As soon as he enters his apartment, he throws his bag on the floor and tunnels through his room to lock himself in there. But as soon as he entered it, he was shocked to find his brother laying in his bed.

“What’re you doing here?” He asks, confused.

“Just want to know something,” Jisung says, slowly sitting up. He looks up his brother, standing in the door frame. Jeno couldn’t read his expression, but its pretty clear that he’s not happy.

“Did you sleep with y/n?”

Jeno didn’t know how to react, his eyes widened and for a while, he had nothing to say. But in the end, he knew this was bound to happen. If not you, it would be him spilling the information to his brother.

He didn’t need to say anything, and he knew the silence is more than enough for Jisung to conclude.

“She really likes you, you know? I just–” Jisung paused, “--I just don’t know why you’d sleep with her when you don’t like her back. You know she likes you, hyung. What, is this like an ego thing? She’s y/n, hyung. You know she’s different.” Jisung honestly just sounded confused and tired. He’s not angry, not upset, he comes off like he just wanted proper answers from his brother.

“Dude, just get out.” Jeno dismissed, which pissed off his younger brother more.

“Oh fuck you. You can’t even hold a conversation with your own brother? And if only it’s not y/n, I wouldn’t even waste my time. But it’s her. You know her,”

Jeno took a deep breath. “I like her too, Jisung. No, fuck, scratch that. I fucking love her.”

For a minute, it was silence. Jisung then took the initiative to talk,

“Talk to mom, hyung.”

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Jeno was sixteen, when he realized that he likes the way you smile at him.

He saw you run down the stairs and straight to the kitchen. You were at his brother’s room, for a sleepover with his brother and Chenle. He was lounging on the couch, and he didn’t bother to turn on the lights. He likes to lay in here at night, cuddling with his cat, Bongsik. He can’t let the cat into his room because of his allergies, so he just settled on the couch.

Because Bongsik was alerted of your presence, the cat follows you to the kitchen. Jeno, of course, followed in pursuit. He can still remember the cute expression you had when you discovered Bongsik on the table.

He smiles at you, struggling to get chips from the cabinet. Naturally, he grabbed it for you. You had asked if Bongsik was new, and he answered yes.

“Yep, a rescue. Mom brought it home the other day. Jisung freaked,” He chuckles as he looks at the cat, snuggling in his chest.

He can see you almost begging with your eyes, wanting to pet the cat. So he let you. Surprisingly, Bongsik, who’s usually grumpy, purrs as soon as your hands come in contact with it.

You were so careful, and Jeno almost wants to chuckle at your meek attempt at staring at him.

A slight smile on your face was something Jeno noticed, from a close distance. He surely did not expect you to be this soft and angelic, but he thought to himself, that your smile is something he’d like to get used to.

Jeno was eighteen when he made his first mistake.

He had invited his friends over at his house. He had made some really cool friends, and he even got this girl he’s been trying to get with to tag along. Jeno feels nervous, of course, he wants to impress them.

Besides Jaemin, Haechan and Renjun, he also invites some people from the basketball team he’s trying to get into, and some girls that are part of the circle. And of course, the girl he had liked, Eunmi.

His friends encouraged him to make a move tonight, and for some dumb reason, he thought it would be romantic to bring out wine. So he went to the kitchen to do so, but got surprised when a soft voice called his name.

It was you. Your shy demeanor, and your avoiding gaze startles him but he can’t help but smile. You’re so cute.

He clears that with whatever you were gonna tell him, make it quick because someone’s waiting for him. But as soon as you open your mouth to say the next words,

“I like you. Very much.”

He feels like his feet are frozen. His heart starts to race and if only he wasn’t leaning on the counter behind him, he would definitely stumble. His grip on the wine glass tightens. He doesn’t know what to do.

The next words just came out, and he instantly regrets it.

“...I-I’m just being nice.. I have to be nice. You’re my brother’s best friend.” In a split second before Eumi interrupts the conversation, he can clearly see the pain in your eyes. The initial shock of the fact that he’s rejecting you was prominent in your face and he just wanted to take every word back at that point.

But before he could even utter another word, Eunmi decided to take over. You then quickly walked out, but before you can turn around, he sees a teardrop, and by then, he’s sure he’s made a mistake. He can’t believe he just broke your innocent heart.

Eunmi is no longer in his mind, his friends no longer his priority, the entirety of the night, you plagued his mind. He wanted to run after you, and apologize. But what exactly is it for? It’s not like he was rude. He was calm, but still, you were visibly upset.

Jeno blames himself, until the night ends, he shoots his brother a message to ask you if you were okay. He needs to know.

Jeno was twenty when he breaks his own heart for the first time.

He can’t believe his eyes. He doesn’t know which emotion he should feel, the anger that slowly builds up upon seeing you entering the party with Jungwoo, or the adoration to seeing you looking that good in your mini dress.

You had walked in with the confidence he failed to notice before, with Jungwoo’s arm around your waist. He clenches his fist, but soon he gets caught in his own mind when his girlfriend of two weeks leans over to him.

The train of thought he had was still there, however, he was forced to pretend like everything’s fine. Although he can’t look at you in the eye, when he can certainly feel your gaze time to time.

What he can’t absolutely avoid tho, is his eyes on Jungwoo’s touches. Since when did you let a random man touch you like that?

More so, a man like Jungwoo? Much older than you, and he doesn’t remember Jungwoo and you ever be in the same vicinity as each other. Why are you so comfortable with him already?

Green doesn’t suit Jeno. So he tries to focus on the girl beside him. But mentally, he counts the shots that was given to you. Too many, and if the situation is different, he’d take those shots and shove it up Jungwoo’s ass.

But as soon as you stood up, his quick reaction was to follow you.

All he can think about is you getting out of here.

“Find Chenle. Now.” He groaned, despite his anger, he doesn’t like yelling at you.

What you did next was unexpectable.

You had tried to kiss him.

His reflex was to push you, and that, he did. His demeanor changes, and everything that falls from his lips after that was a blur to him.

One thing’s clear, the look in your eyes. You were so defeated, but Jeno didn’t let it affect him. He was blinded by anger, and the fact that you’re so drunk that you’d kiss just anyone. Not to mention a man that has a girl! What has gotten into you?

“Are you that desperate? I rejected you already, didn’t I? I will never look at you different than being my brother’s best friend, y/n! So stop this fucking delusion while I’m being nice.” Lies after lies after lies.

He was completely out of his mind when he said that to you.

And when you cried in front of him, he felt his own heart break. Every tear is equivalent to a stab right through his chest.

Right there and then, he wanted to beg for your forgiveness. Say that everything wasn’t true, that he doesn’t think you were desperate. Hell, he would kiss you back if you’d let him.

But all those hope was thrown away when you left. Because what’s left was this strange, terrifying feeling that somehow, this was the last straw for you.

And Jeno despises himself for causing you pain, over and over. He curses at his own self for being so coward.

“Hey Jen, how are you?” His mom’s voice was enthusiastic as ever. Even over the phone, he can hear the smile in her face.

He thinks he should be honest. “Not good,”

“Aw, is it your practice? Don’t worry darling, just a few more months and you’ll be graduating!” He smiles at his mother’s sweet voice of anticipation, he can just imagine the tiny claps she does.

“No, mom. I—“ He closes his eyes in frustration. “I have to talk to you about something,”

“What is it? Is it your brother? About y/n?” Her tone changes, now sounding concerned.

Jeno curses mentally, because of how quick his mom mentioned you.

“It’s about y/n,” he says lowly, testing the waters for a bit.

He hears a deep sigh, “I called her a week ago and she’s been real distant from me, Jen. Anything I should know?”

“Mom,” He almost whines. He just wants to spill it out.

“What? You’re worrying me. Is our y/n okay? God, she’s been out of control, hasn’t she?” The concern is now intensified, and Jeno thinks he should just spit it out. But his tongue can’t seem to say it.

“She.. she’s fine.”

“Good gracious, okay. I thought something had happened. Her mother must be frowning at me from heaven right now. Still remember your promise to your Auntie, right?”

Bingo. The very reason as to why he can’t just say it. Why he can’t just be with you already. It’s because of this god forsaken promise that he made.

“You need to be a big brother to her, treat her as your sister. She has nothing but us now, Jeno.”

He almost cries, he just wanted to yell. He felt as though he failed his mother, your mother and you. He shouldn’t be feeling this emotion towards you. This harbored feelings are forbidden. He can’t. He just… can’t.

He lets his eyes get warmer, gripping in his phone harshly. He takes a huge, deep breath.

“Mom, I love her. So much. I- I can’t… I can’t keep on hurting her and pretending that I only look at her as a sister.” He pleads, finally letting it known. There’s no turning back.

Silence was deafening on the other line. Every millisecond, he can feel his heartbeat race.

“Jeno, we’ve talked about this.”

“I love her, mom. I do, I really do.” He cries, for the first time in a long time.

“She’s your sis—“

“She’s not! God, she’s your best friend’s daughter, I know that but I’m not her older brother. I’m a person that truly loves her. I have loved her for so many years but I keep on h—“

“Jeno, hush, darling. I understand… but she’s our family. If all these feelings get old and you decide you don’t love her anymore, who will she turn to? Not us, darling because at the end of the day, we’re your family. I’m just… worried about her, she has… no one to turn to if this all blows up.” His mother’s response, despite the rise of emotion, was still calm and soft.

“I won’t, mom. Please, just let me love her. I can’t keep hurting her, mom, It kills me.” Jeno never begged this much. Just for you. His only exception.

His mother pauses, way too long, before finally breathing out again. “Okay, darling. I trust you. But please. I beg you, not to hurt her. We’re all that she’s got.”

Jeno whips his head up, baffled as to how easy she agreed to him. A little to no persuasion, and it didn’t even take ten minutes.

“What? J-just like that?” Jeno questions in disbelief. Years of yearning, years of hurting you, when Jeno could just do this early on?

His mom, regardless of the moment, managed to let out a breathy chuckle.

“Darling, you’ve proven yourself over the years. Me and your Dad had an inkling that you have a special admiration for Y/n ever since before. Its just unfortunate that her mother had to pass, and had asked us a favor— more to you, to look after Y/N like your own sibling. And when you agreed, I felt like it’s just how it goes. But years of seeing you pretend to not care about her, and seeing you struggle to cope with your feelings, I knew then that you were serious.”

“Me and your Dad realized that our eldest, really, has grown up to be a man. And seeing you still have the same passion and the same feelings towards her until now, says that you’d stop at nothing at this point. So what’s the use of preventing you?”

And with that, Jeno was free. Free of constraint, of guilt and control over his own will and feelings.

Like a baby, Jeno falls asleep with tears in his eyes. In complete satisfaction on how things went. Now, his only problem is getting to you, and begging for your forgiveness. Wishing by then, you’d still want him.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

Jeno didn’t waste his time. As soon as the morning comes, he’s fast on his feet. He wants to talk to you, he wants to clear everything up. He had tried to text and call, but he quickly realized you blocked his number.

He called his brother next, but Jisung also has not heard from you since yesterday.

It wasn’t until 5pm that he couldn’t find you, he started to worry. None of your friends know where you are, and you’re not in your apartment either.

He contacted every possible soul that could even have a hint on where you’re at, but none of them knows.

He feels like he’s running out of time, running out of momentum.

And just as soon as he was about to call for help, he received a message.

[5:32pm] unknown number

she’s at dreamscape hill. she likes going there to ease her mind. take care of her, please. -k

He didn’t care to ask who it was, he just prayed that whoever sent him this message was right.

And off to dreamscape hill, Jeno goes.

He can barely catch his breath when he arrived, heart pounding at his chest. It was past sundown when he found you sitting at the bench, on top of the hill.

It’s you. He’s sure it’s you. To the curves of your shoulder, to the waves of your hair. Call it creepy, but he spent years looking at your back, from afar, forbidden to even glance at you when you’re close. So yes, he’s a hundred percent sure that it’s you.

He’s a few feet behind you, when he noticed the earphones you had on. Probably why you didn’t hear the ruffling of the twigs and leaves as he walked closer.

And in divine timing, you look back at your shoulder, looking straight at Jeno’s eyes, as if it made sense why he’s here.

Slowly, you pull the earphones out.

“What’re you doing here?” You ask, almost a whisper. But the city in front of you gave him enough silence to hear every breath you take.

“Finding you,” he answers. He struggles to keep his words straight, the thumping in his chest causing him to stutter.

You blink thrice, seems like you’re still processing Jeno’s answer.

“Why?”

Jeno took a couple step, and finally he sat beside you. he looked forward at the cityscape. He took note of your body language, it seems to him that you’re starting to get nervous.

“To tell you I’m sorry. I’m sorry it took this long for me to find you. I’m sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry for making you cry. I’m sorry that I wasted years, and I’m so sorry I lied.” Jeno says every word with great diction, in perfect pace and clear voice. He wants you to understand every word that he says.

He hears you let out a huff, as if in disbelief. His heart went even more faster, scared on what you might say.

He’s never anticipated an answer like this before. He never had to grip at his own knees in nervousness before. He can’t even look at your expression.

“I think we’re past that, Jeno.”

This is what he’s afraid of. He might be too late, he might fuck this up. Nevertheless, he’ll never regret trying.

“I know that I’m years too late but you need to understand—“

“I don’t need to understand nothing. What I need is to just live my life, love my life. I have spent years yearning for you, let me love myself too. I think I’ve loved you since I met you, Jeno. I just mistook it for curiosity. Everyone else isn’t you, and turns out that’s a huge problem for me.” Jeno can hear you smile, and when he finally let himself take a look, he softens.

You’re smiling like you used to smile. You’re smiling like you again.

“That’s because we thought we could alter fate, and tell me I’m batshit crazy for believing but I can prove to you that we’re just… soulmates, y/n. Y-you’re meant for me as much as I am for you.” These are some words Jeno never thought he would use. The things you make him do.

You chuckle again, while shaking your head. Do you find it ridiculous? Do you think Jeno is joking? Are you finding all of these insufferable? God, Jeno wished he could read you.

“We are not soulmates, Jeno. This is not some divine intervention, and shit, this is not fate. I wanted this. I knit the threads of my destiny until it spelled your name. I love you intentionally, Jeno. It’s not the stars and the heavens that brought us together. I did.”

Jeno was speechless. He could not utter a single word, he felt like he had no right to dictate you about what you feel. He’s ashamed, because what you said was right. You made him feel this, because of your desire for him, you made him fall. And damn it, he fell hard.

“It’s like you filled my lungs with flowers, although they are pretty, it made it hard for me to breathe. That's how much I wanted you.”

“Y/n, I will apologize to you forever if you wanted me to. Just… just please, let me have my chance.” Jeno begged like he never did before. He let his emotions out, and all for you. Because you deserve it. You deserve the real him.

Slowly, he felt your hand on his clenched fist, instantly letting it loose. He took the opportunity to lace your fingers together. It felt right, like your hand always belonged intertwined with his.

“If I took this chance with you, that would be the knife that would slit my own fucking throat, Jeno. And you know what’s funny? I’d probably apologize for bleeding in your shirt.”

“So let me have this time for myself, Jeno. And just like the old saying, time will tell. And if we find each other without even looking, then that’s when I’ll believe in that fate you were talking about.”

As your grip in his hand loosens, he felt like this was the first and last time he’ll get to hold your hand. He wanted to be selfish and not let you go, but he knows he’d be cruel to do that.

So he didn’t move. “I’ll see you around,” you say.

“I’ll find you,” he whispered, to you, to himself, and to whoever who’s listening. Let it be the heavens, or the devil in hell. He whispered to anybody, because he knows he’ll do it, and he wants everyone to stand witness to this promise.

“Sure you will,”

And in every step you made, as your body slowly walks away, you took his heart with you. Its yours, anyway. He’ll just have to find you to have it back.

୧ ‧₊˚ ☆

“Lee Jeno! Lee Jeno! Lee Jeno!”

The screams from the bleachers never seemed to falter, only getting louder each time.

The band is on full blast, people running around down the court as soon as the last whistle of the game went off.

Jeno had won the much awaited game against the SKU, with a whopping 73 points under his belt, making it the first time in his school’s history to earn that many points, by a single player, in one game.

This just solidified his reputation, being named the greatest player that had ever stepped foot on this campus.

And to make this game, even more legendary than it already is, it’s the last game of the season before Jeno graduates. So he’s literally going out with a bang with this one.

His teammates celebrated the win, begging Jeno to go the the victory party. For the first time, Jeno refused to attend a victory party. Much more, a victory he made happen.

He walked past the girls that’s lining up to take a picture with him, immediately walking straight back to the lockers.

He shoots a text at Renjun, informing his friend that he’ll head home, instead of attending the party.

He was about to turn to his locker, when his name was called by a familiar voice.

Jeno looked back, and to his disappointment, it’s Jennie.

“Why haven’t you answered my calls? It’s been months, Jeno! You can’t just..” Jennie couldn’t even finish her sentence, stomping her feet like a toddler.

Yes. It has been months since he blocked every girl that he had ever slept with.

Three months, thirteen days, and twenty-one hours, to be exact.

“My team’s gonna be here soon. You don’t want me to embarrass you in front of them, trust me.” Jeno’s threat was casual, but he’s serious enough for Jennie to take the hint.

“B-but, Jen, it's me.” Jennie’s voice turns softer, making Jeno cringe at the tone. She then tried to touch his shoulder, but Jeno was quick to dodge.

“Exactly. You’re you, Jennie. And I don’t like you.”

The girl was aghast, to say the least. Her mouth wide open in disbelief. Taking Jeno’s advice, albeit with offense, she stomps her way out of the lockers.

Just as he said, his teammates started flocking in, with his coach holding the trophy. He lost count on how many pats in the back he received after the game. The repetitive congratulatory messages are starting to grow old.

“Are you really not coming? You’re literally the man of the year, dude. Everybody’s gonna be looking for you!” Sungchan, one of his teammates says.

“Nope,” Jeno says with a pop.

“Come on, this’ll probably the last victory party you’ll ever have!” Yangyang joins in, but Jeno just shrugged his shoulders.

“Sorry, dude. I got a thesis paper due in two days.”

A plethora of complains, grunts and ‘what?!’s came pouring in after his statement, but Jeno stood his ground.

Jeno was serious. He needs to study for his thesis paper, and pass it on time. His professor expects him to match his academics to his basketball career, and he doesn’t want to disappoint.

Before the commotion gets even more wild, and before Jeno gets kidnapped into attending the party, he swiftly bids farewell to his coach, the only person that mattered to him. His coach just shook his head and gave him a nod, before letting him go.

“You did well, kid.”

Jeno heads through the parking lot. He had been stopped by students every ten seconds therefore his usual 4 minute walk to his car ended up being 30 minutes.

He starts up the engine, but before taking off, he checks some of his messages.

[8:43pm] dong(yuck!): congratulations, lebron ‘lee jeno’ james! the game was so cool dude u look good throwing balls lol btw im staying at my girls hauz. also ur welcome. also enjoy. lolz

[8:54pm] jaemjaem: dude that game!!! ur on FIRE my guy!! pls pls apply for nba so i can watch courtside with kanye west :D im out rn and i wont be home til tmrw. ur welcome ;)

[8:59] jisung: great game couldve been better tho… anyways… wrap it b4 u tap it!!!

[9:02pm] injunnie <3: game was lit. didnt understand shit abt the game but u did good. im spending the night @ my moms so u better make it worth it, lee jeno.

Jeno’s breath hitches, and before he could even question the hints his roommates are giving him, another ping notifies his phone.

[9:04pm] unknown number: hi. im at urs. can we talk?

Jeno knows not to speed, but tonight, he swears his tires didn’t even touch the concrete. He is flying off the highway.

With sweaty palms, he enters the security code to his door. Hands shaking, he opens it up and with the sight of a woman’s shoes on his doorstep, he takes a deep breath.

“I hope you don’t mind, it was Jaemin’s idea to let me in without telling you. Uh, so if you’re not—“

“Y/n,” he gulps as he takes in your figure, standing in the middle of his kitchen.

“Yeah.. it’s me.” You smile tightly, shrugging your shoulders.

Even though Jeno was ready to leap and drown you in his embrace, he stood his ground. He’s still not sure why you’re here, and until you say so, he’s not moving. The last thing he wants to do is push your boundaries.

“What’re— what are you—” He feels stupid. Stuttering like a five year old in front of you.

“Figured we could talk. Jisung and Chenle got sick of me moping around so they made me—“

“I hope you’re not being forced to talk to me. I told you, I’ll wait. No matter how long,” The sincerity laced in his voice was prominent.

“I promise you, I went here in my own will. Two idiots just talked some sense into me, and Jisung told me about the promise you made my mom years ago.”

Then there was silence. But this time, it wasn’t deafening. It was peaceful. Its as if you two are finding serenity in each others presence and just the way you stare at each other already says the words your mouth couldn’t speak.

But Jeno cut it short. “Does this mean..”

“I want to try, Jeno. I want to experience this with you. Slowly, at our own pace. I want to go on dates. Carnivals. Watch netflix. Everything, with you.” There's a tinge of shyness in your voice, and Jeno just wants you to scream it out. You don’t need to shy away from him.

“Everything, with me. At your own pace. I’ll accept everything you can offer,” He assured your worried mind.

You nod gently. “I want to feel loved without feeling like I’m begging for it,”

Jeno shakes his head vigorously, “No, baby, you’ll never beg to be loved, ever again. I swear in my grave.” He takes one step closer.

“I’ll trust you and risk getting my heart broken again, but I really hope you won’t.”

One more step closer “I will never. Baby, you’re it for me. I didn’t know it before, but I should’ve known it was you, because no one else made sense.”

You nod again, biting your lip. “When I visited my mom, I told her about you,”

“Yeah?” Jeno asks, in a sweet tone, taking another step closer.

You smiled at him. “I bet she would trust you too,”

“I will not break her trust. Not again,”

He watches carefully as you raise your hand to cup his cheeks, his reaction was to lean into your touch. He takes your initiative as a signal, but still takes his movement slowly.

You gulp, looking up at him. “Can you love me now?”

“Oh, baby. I have loved you since forever. It just took me time to realize it.”

And then, as you tiptoe to match his height, he feels your lips on him and he swears that you taste like heaven.

Jeno didn’t remember how long you talked that night, but somewhere in the midst of your laughter and smiles, he decided that he would destroy the world for you.

Because you might not know it, but in every universe, in every lifetime, and in every story, Jeno has always been completely, madly, and inevitably yours.

A/N: From the bottom of my heart, I apologize for making you guys wait this long. I promise, it just happened to be my worst year ever :'(( but at least she's here! I just wish this could at least be worth it. Tune in for the next part (I promise, it would NOT take this long lmao)

taglist: @cutiepeas @legbouk @hyuckissed @bockhyun @hibernatinghamster @shookyungsoo @sundamariis @sharkipoonis @ohmykwonsoonyoung @carelessshootanonymous @glamourizz

[ink-perfect]

obsessed bf!gojo x gn!reader ⋆. based on: 22 - lil candy paint, bhad bhabie

gojo had a bad habit.

a bad habit of blowing up your phone.

it wasn’t the 'three texts in a row' kind of blowing up, either.

oh no, gojo satoru didn’t do small-scale chaos.

it was an art form for him. the type of masterpiece that made your phone buzz off your nightstand at 3 a.m. with thirty consecutive messages that alternated between blurry selfies, close-ups of his sunglasses, and texts like:

“hey👋 (with the intention of getting midnight sushi)”

“do u think panda would let me dye him pink? 🤔”

“pick up plzzz i jsut saw the funniest video on instagram but i accidnetally exited tje app it and cant find it anymore so i'm jsut going to explain it to you in excruciatign detail”

and tonight was no different—except this time, it came after your first real argument.

you couldn’t even remember what had set it off anymore, but it had ended with you storming off and gojo… well, doing whatever gojo does when someone’s mad at him (eating mochi and sulking).

soon enough, after an hour or so of no contact, the first barrage had begun: thirty consecutive texts ranging from the initial

“i’m sorry 🥺👉👈”

to a dramatic

“why do you hate me? 😭💔 (don't answer that.)”

you’d ignored all of them, determined to let him stew.

but then the calls begun.

ring after ring, voicemail after voicemail, starting out with intense professions of love that slowly faded into desperate pleas for you to call him back, text him back, to respond just once.

and when those went unanswered too, he escalated.

your phone buzzed on your nightstand, flashing yet another text. this time, it came with a photo—gojo lying facedown on what appeared to be megumi’s couch, his hand clutching an empty box of tissues. the caption read:

“i’ve been crying for 84 years 😢 come back pls”

you rolled your eyes, but found the corner of your mouth twitching up despite yourself. he was impossible.

another buzz. this one said,

“fine if ur not gonna answer just know ur the light of my life and i’ll literally wither away like an unwatered houseplant if u don’t forgive me soon 😭 also ur socks are still in my room do u want me to wash them or nah”

the buzz after that said,

“actually nah i'm not bothered to wash them"

and then another buzz.

"also u look hotter when ur mad 🥰”

the audacity of this man.

you let your impulses get the better of you and texted back a stern "leave. me. alone."

and not even a second later, your phone screen lit up with gojo's face for the umpteenth time.

you groaned, snatching it up and finally swiping to answer to put an end to all of this.

“gojo, what part of ‘leave me alone’ don’t you understand?!”

“oh my god,” he gasped, his voice overflowing with fake relief. “you’re alive!”

“i—”

“you weren’t answering, so i thought maybe you’d been kidnapped! or fallen down a well! or—”

“i ignored you,” you interrupted sharply. “on purpose.”

“no yeah, i got that,” he said breezily, completely unfazed. “but we're talking now! the devil sure does work hard, but gojo works harderrrrr."

"gojo—"

"so, how much did ya miss me?”

"gojo."

"also did you see my text about the socks?”

"gojo!"

“aaaaand i’m outside your window by the way.”

“you’re what?”

“outside!” he chirped back like it was the most normal thing in the world.

sure enough, when you yanked open your curtains, there he was—gojo satoru, standing on your lawn in a hoodie two sizes too big, clutching a mismatched bouquet of convenience store snacks and flowers that you could just tell he had made himself.

“ta-da~!” he grinned into the phone as you watched him hold up the haul like it was an olympic medal. “i come bearing gifts!”

you gawked at him. “are you serious?”

“deadly,” he said, his smile widening so much you could even see it from your vantage point. “i brought your favourite snacks, and also, i stole these flowers from my neighbour’s garden. don’t tell anyone.”

“oh my god.” you smacked your forehead, torn between laughing and drawing your curtains shut. “it’s three in the morning.”

“yeah, well, you didn’t answer my texts,” he said, pouting dramatically. “do you have any idea how sad that made me? i’m so sad, baby, like, devastated. i swear i saw my life flash before my eyes.”

you folded your arms, mock unimpressed. “what’s sad is that you think this is going to work.”

“it’s already working,” he shot back smugly. “you’re talking to me, aren’t you?”

you hated that he was right. you hated even more that your annoyance was quickly being replaced by amusement. he was lucky he was cute.

“toru, just go home,” you sighed, though your voice lacked its earlier venom.

“not until you forgive me,” he declared, dropping to one knee with such theatrics you were surprised broadway hadn't whisked him away already. “or at least let me in so i can grovel properly.”

“you’re unbelievable.”

“yeah. unbelievably in love with you.”

you threw a pillow at the window, even though it wouldn’t reach him, giving yourself a minute to think.

okay, more like a few seconds.

to be fair, you were sure he had learnt his lesson. and, well...you were craving ramen, which happened to be placed front and centre in his haphazard bouquet.

“fine!" you whisper-yelled into the phone, a smile already creeping its way onto your face despite your best efforts to stay mad. "but if you wake up my neighbours, i swear i'm locking you out.”

his grin practically lit up the yard. “deal!”

and just like that, you were stomping down the stairs, blanket in hand, ready to let in the most exasperating, ridiculous, adorable man you’d ever met.

because, really, how could you stay mad at him?

masterlist

© ink-perfect; est. 2024.

[harunayuuka2060]

Ace: ACK! WE BECAME ONLINE CELEBRITIES!

Deuce: No, we don't. It's our SDC performance that has gone viral, not us.

Ace: Isn't it just the same?

Cater: *laughs* No one's talking about you, Acey-kun!

Ace: Tch. By the way, aren't we supposed to be exempted from any punishment because we won the competition?

Trey: You broke several rules in three consecutive days that Riddle couldn't let it slide.

Ace: Still-

Deuce: Quit it.

Ace: Hmph!

Ruggie: *still in a bad mood for missing the award ceremony*

Leona: You know you could congratulate them in person.

Ruggie: No, thanks. Their grandma's knight might still be here.

Leona: He already went home.

Ruggie: Really? But I haven't seen MC yet.

Leona: They're being held hostage by Vil.

Ruggie: Huh? Why?

Leona: MC became his favorite person. You should've seen the way he hugged them during the award ceremony.

Ruggie: ...

Leona: What? You're jealous?

Ruggie: Tch, no. *pouts a little*

Leona: Pft-

Malleus: Schoenheit, this sleepover has gone on long enough. I’m taking my child back.

Vil: Don't be ridiculous. It's only been three days.

Malleus: They have no reason to stay in Pomefiore.

Vil: They do actually. I'm their friend.

Malleus: Oh? Then, shouldn't you listen to the father of your friend?

Vil: They're old enough to make decisions.

Malleus: They're still a baby by fae standards!

Vil: I don't care! They're my baby now!

MC: *who just got up to get some water* ...

Malleus and Vil: ...

MC: ...

MC: Are you two dating? *jokingly*

Malleus and Vil: *horrified*

MC: *chuckles* I'm going back to bed.

[seeingivy]

pretty girl

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

an: kind of suggestive? reader is super insecure + sukuna might be ooc but ??? yk. it is what it is. come get yall juice.

**part of my best friends (older brother) fic

--

when sukuna’s phone rings - for the third time, signaling that he actually has to pick up now - he definitively decides that he is going to move far, far away. maybe if he lived in shibuya, or even as far as kyoto, his stupid little brother wouldn’t call him every time he got too drunk to drive him and his idiotic friends home. 

and when sukuna walks straight into the bar - blaring music, haphazard puddles of alcohol all over the floor, and the most pungent, putrid sweat smell hanging in the air - he’s almost positive that he’s going to start looking for a new apartment tomorrow. 

it takes him approximately thirty-five seconds to find yuuji. though he supposed he should have noticed faster that the pink haired idiot standing on top of the bar, with a black sea urchin shaking at his legs was exactly what he was looking for. 

sukuna makes his way over, shoving megumi hard in the shoulder as he looks over, eyes glazed and cheeks pink. after almost seven times of doing this, sukuna knows exactly how this is going to go. that despite the tattoos, the entirely different facial structure, and physique, megumi is going to confuse sukuna for yuuji. 

“yuu’? how’d you get over there so fast?” megumi murmurs, reaching to cup the side of his face. 

right again. sukuna smacks his hand out of his peripheral as he looks up at yuuji, who hasn’t even noticed that he’s arrived yet. 

“move over.” he responds, irritated. 

the second megumi lets go, sukuna all but shuffles yuuji off of his balance, making it a point to somewhat break his fall off of the countertop. only somewhat, because naturally he wouldn’t injure his little brother. but that doesn’t mean he’s not deserving of sometime of retribution for all the times he’s had to do this.

yuuji’s groaning in his arms as he pulls him up, as he halfheartedly makes grabby hands for fushiguro who was three feet away. 

“‘gumi, cm’here.” 

“we’re leaving. you can sit next to your gumi in the car.” sukuna states sternly, curling his nose at the godawful nickname, as he drags the two of them straight out into the cold air. 

he’s all but opening the doors for the two of them, getting more irritated as the two of them excitedly look up at the sky, pointing at all the little stars together before he all but shoves them again. 

“look yuuji. it’s us.” 

“where?” 

“the two stars next to each other.” 

sukuna watches yuuji’s eyes go wide, cheeks bright pink, as he wraps his arms around megumi. and fights the urge to gag. 

it’s only then - when he’s wrestled seatbelts onto the two of them and stopped megumi from being the affectionate drunk that he is - that they make it a point to share an important piece of information. 

“kugisaki and y/n are still in there! we can’t leave.” yuuji whines, leaning his head against megumi’s as his eyes quickly start drooping, almost fluttering shut before he can ask where the two of you could possibly be. 

sukuna shuffles back through the group of bodies, this time looking for the other pair of the set. it takes more effort - because he’s sure that kugisaki is going to be sucking face with someone in the back corner and he’s going to have to put an end to it. and you. you were always particularly hard to find. 

he spots the red hair three feet away and takes a deep breath. she’s almost entirely sitting on the girls lap - green hair, shitty glasses - as he makes it a point to tap on her shoulder. naturally, she doesn’t stop and he gets more disgusted as it goes on. he never thought she’d be so…handsy. or that he’d have to see it. 

he does the next best thing. reaches to her side and tickles her, just enough to stop her and start the godawful, obscene screaming that worsens tenfold with every consecutive pint of alcohol she drinks. and of course, she’s just as predictable as the last. 

“yuuji?! where the fuck do you get off doing that?” 

he reaches for her wrist, shooting a polite smile. 

“maki. always a pleasure. kugisaki, we’re leaving.” 

“i’m not leaving.” 

maki gives him a halfhearted shrug as he all but throws her over her shoulder, tuning out the insults that are streaming out of her mouth as he all but carries her through the group of bodies. if you weren’t regulars here, sukuna was positive that he’d get arrested for that profanities coming out of her mouth - that, and the fact that it looked like he was abducting her. but no one turns a blind eye, almost irritated that she’s at it again. 

that makes two of them. 

when nobara’s tucked into the back, he makes it a point to throw a water bottle at each of them - specifically square in the face for yuuji and megumi who are cuddling in his backseat - as he glares at all of them. 

“okay, kugisaki. where’s y/n?” sukuna asks. 

she’s leaning her head back against the headrest, eyes fluttering shut, as she murmurs something unintelligible. 

“she….ugly.” kugisaki murmurs. 

“she’s ugly?” sukuna deadpans. 

well, she’s certainly not ugly. 

“ugly…bathroom.” she murmurs again, taking it as his best option. 

sukuna marches back into the bar, for the third time, and beelines straight into the bathroom in the back. and there you are, crumpled up on the floor with your knees hiked to your chest, with big tears in your eyes and two girls sitting right across from you. 

sukuna finds the sight rather…unusual. he knew that girls were quite different than guys, having heard you go on your spiels about womanhood and female friendship too damn often to know that it was a whole thing that was beyond him. but really, he finds it sincerely odd that the two girls sitting across from you are comforting you in your puddle of tears. 

it’s not that sukuna’s stereotyping. or being judgemental. or he is a little, but he doesn’t frankly care. because labels, or groups or whatever existed for a reason. people who were similar flocked to one another. it’s how people were comfortable. how they functioned. 

which is why sukuna’s unsure why these two girls - who are actually dressed up to be at the club - are sitting on the tiles with you, when you’re wearing one of those pink ribbons in your hair, that of course, matches the one on your bag. 

but granted, this is you he’s talking about. he’s spent enough time trying to figure you out, before he naturally gave up. he always found that you transcended normal groups that he assigned. 

you look up at him through your tearfilled eyes, a half smile on your face. 

“sukuna, you-you’re here.” 

sukuna ignores the fact that he’s pleased, very pleased, that you didn’t just confuse him with yuuji, as he holds his hand out to you and grabs your purse with the other one. and when you place your hand in his, you can feel the heat rushing up your body, more so when he leans down, lips few feet apart as he murmurs to you. 

“we’re leaving. now.” sukuna states, glaring at you. 

you feel the heat rush to your cheeks, acutely aware of every detail on his face. that his hair is slightly messy - because he must have woken up to come get you - and that his eyes are almost tired. you fight the urge to smile...at how sweet It all is.

“okay. thanks for coming to get us.” you respond, giving him a smile. 

the two girls sprawled on the floor stand up, yanking their dresses down the slightest amounts as they flash you warm, kind-hearted smiles.

sukuna, really, truly does not understand it. at the way that you’re so open with them, despite the fact that they must be strangers. 

“you, give him hell. and you, i’m really happy for you. i’m sure your wedding will be beautiful.” you state, pointing at the two girls who had been accompanying you on the bathroom floor for the past hour. 

“and you. stop letting people call you ugly and taking it to heart. the bows are cute. your fashion is amazing. and men don’t deserve shit.” the first girl slurs.

you give her a smile, as sukuna all but tugs you out of the bathroom by the wrist, arm secured around your shoulder as he leads you through the crowd. sukuna drops his arm around you as the crowd gets thicker, hands straight on your waist as he steadies you in front of him. and when he leans down to whisper in your ear, it sends a shiver down your entire spine. 

“do i even want to ask?” he sneers. 

“it’s her bachelorette party! and that’s her best friend, though she seems kind of…off her rocker. but in a good way. power to her for being bold.” you respond. 

sukuna rolls his eyes as he pushes you out into the cold air last, reaching for the front seat door and opening it for you. except when he looks back, you’re staring up into the sky just as yuuji and megumi were, the softest of smiles on your face.

sukuna makes a mental note of the dark, black tear streaks on your cheeks and your sniflfy nose as he clears his throat to get your attention. 

“oh. sorry, i’m here. i’m here.” you respond, quickly shuffling into the car as you wipe your face. 

sukuna shuts the door behind you, pausing to look up at the sky too. and silently wonders what exactly it was that you thought when you looked up at it. 

--

sukuna makes it a point to take you out of the car last. because naturally, he’d save the easiest job for the end. by the time he had turned onto his street, you were snug asleep against the window of his car, creating a small indent into your forehead from the plastic of the door as he parked on the street. and he’d give you the few seconds of peace as he wrangles the rest of them out. 

megumi and yuuji were easy to wrangle. because if sukuna too one out, the other one would quickly follow - and mope a great deal. megumi was on the side closer to the door, meaning he had to brace himself for the confusion once again, as he shrugged him awake. 

“‘yuu. are you going to carry me to bed?” he murmurs. 

“absolutely fucking not.” sukuna responds, yanking him out as yuuji follows up the stairs. he sets the two of them on the couch, a surefire way to ensure that they don’t do something heinous to his sheets during the night - or the morning after - as he braces himself for kugisaki next. 

when he slings her arm around his shoulder, the obscenities start. 

“maybe if you had a job or something, maybe we wouldn’t bother you so much. It-” 

“i have a job, kugisaki. a job that just payed for your drinks, mind you.” 

it seems that in his rusk of getting ready, yuuji had accidentally swiped his wallet on the way out. and of course, it was his turn to pay for the drinks. 

“you need to get a hobby. have you thought of sewing?” she asks. 

“that would be useful. then i’d have hundreds of needles to stick in your eyes.” 

“when was the last time you felt the touch of a woman, sukuna?” 

“when was the last time you went on a date? are the middle school makeout sessions hitting the mark for you, kugisaki?” 

“shut the fuck up.” she sneers, reaching to smack him as he shoves her straight on to the guest bed and quickly shuts the door behind him. 

he’s satisfied when he hears no inclination of her following, which always seems to be a gamble depending on how much she’s downed that night. or how short he cut off whatever it was she was doing with maki. 

when sukuna makes it back to the car, he half debates just leaving you in there. because you look so comfortable, with his stray jacket strewn over your shoulders, and your breath that’s fogging up the glass of the mirror. but the fact that your neck is at an awkward angle and the cold air solidify his decision. 

he open the door and you halfhazardly jolt awake, blinking your eyes as sukuna comes into your line of vision. you shoot him a smile as he holds his hand out to you, locking them together as he drags you up to the apartment, straight into his bedroom. 

“can i use the bathroom?” you ask. 

“you know where it is.” he responds, noting and particularly hating the biting tone in his voice. 

“thank you!” you respond, shuffling into the room and shutting the door. 

albeit weirdly, sukuna presses his ear to the door to confirm his suspicions. and the soft clinking of bottles, of the water running on and off, tells him enough. 

that you’re doing your longwinded skin care routine in his bathroom. that you shoved all of your serums and moisturizers in your purse because you couldn’t skip out on it for even one day. 

he’d make it a point. to slam the door open and make fun of you for it. but he bites down any retort he has when he hears soft sniffling and pushes the door open for an entirely different reason. 

“what the hell is your problem?” he asks. 

“huh?” 

“you and your friends get obscenely drunk. then, you call me in the middle of the night and wake me up. and right when i’m about to go to bed, you’re crying in my bathroom. so what the hell is it? just tell me.” 

you sniffle. 

“do you really want to know?” you whisper. 

“you’re wasting more of time with your shitty attitude. i’m not going to stand here and coax it out of you, so just tell me straight up or stop crying.” 

you sigh. 

“if you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig.” 

sukuna wants to smack you. of course you feel the need to talk in tongues. 

“in english this time?” he asks. 

“you can try to look nice as much as you want. but even all that…makeup…fancy skincare. it can’t change the fact that i just look like this. that if you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig.” you state. 

“you think you’re a pig?” sukuna asks. 

you sigh. 

“maybe.” you murmur. 

sukuna tosses you the extra set of clothes he dragged out, tossing them straight at you as you send him a grateful smile. 

“thanks, sukuna.” you murmur. 

“for what?” 

he could barely even muster a response, a coherent one that you deserved, in response to what you shared with him. 

“dunno. i tell other people and they just kind of go…but you’re so pretty!! and…it falls flat. it’s nice to not be coddled. just said things as they are.” 

sukuna can feel a burning feeling in his chest that increases tenfold when you press a kiss into the softness of his cheek. and he stands there dumbfounded, watching you smile and make a move to walk away. he instinctively reaches for your bicep and pulls back, a sweet smell emanating from whatever you’ve just smeared on your face, as he looks down at your lips. 

there’s some type of glitter on them. whatever you’ve just put on makes them look bigger, fuller. he wonders if some trace of it is left on his cheek. 

“did you need something?” you ask. 

“sleep in my bed.” 

“huh?” 

“i’ll take the couch. get in the bed.” he utters. 

the following morning, sukuna wakes up to three plates of breakfast with an annoying sticky note pressed on top. 

thanks for coming to get us sukuna!!! :DD 

it’s the first time the thought crosses his mind. that his preconceived notion might be incorrect. 

that it’s not that you’re too good for him. it’s that everyone else isn’t good enough for you. 

--

the next time you see sukuna is when you’re teetering past tipsy to fully drunk in your childhood bedroom, on christmas eve. well, he’s not exactly inside the room, more knocking on the door frame.

you gesture for him to come in, setting the wine bottle down, as he takes the seat next to you. 

“where’s yuuji?” you ask.

“still at megumi’s.” 

sukuna loosens the tie around his neck and unbuttons the top three buttons of his collared shirt, as he slides closer to you. you've never been one to shy from his touch, settling into his embrace, as he racks his mind, desperately, on how to broach the topic, that’s been on his mind for weeks. 

sukuna slides his arm around your shoulder to your nightstand, to a little bundle of dried flowers. he opts to leave his hand pulled around you, as he pulls it closer to the two of your faces, resting his temple against yours.

“what’s this?” 

“it’s my corsage from prom. like sixty years ago.” 

“who did you go with?” sukuna asks. 

“no one. i never got asked. i just bought one because…you know how all the girls line up in a row and stick their hands out to show their corsage off? i didn’t want to be left out of that picture.” you state. 

“so you ordered it yourself?” 

“mhm. pink flowers, white bow. it matched my dress.” you hum. 

“always the bows huh?” 

sukuna sets the corsage down in your lap, as he leans closer into your space and digs into his pocket. you can smell his cologne, strong and musky in your space, as it mixes with your own flowery perfume and gives your head a slight rush. 

he pulls out his keys and sets them flat in the palm of your hand, as you inspect each little accessory on his ring. there’s two keys - one for his apartment and one for his house - and two keychains. one of him as a lego, which you know yuuji bought him for his birthday, and another one from alaska, that you and yuuji had bought him on your school trip in eighth grade. 

but the third is a ribbon, secured right on the ring of his keychain. you inspect it between your fingers, and he supplies the answer before you can ask. 

“you left it at my house.” he states. 

“so…so you put it on your keys?” 

“wanted to make sure it was on me. in case i saw you.” 

you make a move to pull it off the ring, but he closes his hand over yours. 

“it’s mine now.” he states. 

“then why did you show it to me?” you whispers. 

sukuna’s not sure what it is that drives him to do it, merely the fact that he has no patience and surely no self control, but he hooks his hand straight under your thigh, securing you straight on his lap. you can feel your breath hitch in your throat as he leans his forehead straight against yours, his hands on your thighs burning your skin. 

“what are you doing? yu-yuuji will eventually get here you know.” you whisper. 

“do you like him?” sukuna asks. 

“what? no-no, he’s with megumi. and he’s gay.” you whisper. 

“so why are you thinking about him when you’re here with me?” 

“i-i’m not. you just-”

sukuna swallows hard, taking a deep inhale of your smell, before he slithers one of his hands around your neck and pulls you closer. he can feel you fidget in his lap, nearly knocking over half the things behind you as you twitch in his lap and he murmurs into your skin. 

“relax.” 

you take a deep breath, grounding yourself by digging your hands into the muscle of his arms.

“okay. you-”

“the guy at the bar. what did he say to you?” he whispers. 

“which guy?” 

“when i picked you up last. when you slept in my bed.” 

you feel your cheeks burn in embarrassment. 

“nothing. he-” 

sukuna’s squeezing into the plush of your thighs, his hands firm and warm as you fight the urge to yelp. 

“tell me what he said.” 

“nothing, sukuna. i didn’t want to kiss him yet. and he leaned in. got-got offended. just said some things before he walked away.” you mumble. 

“things like?” 

“like you know. the usual stuff.” 

“that you’re ugly?” he asks. 

it's almost embarrassing, but his look is so unrelenting that you have to give in. you nod, as sukuna takes his hands off of your legs, bringing them up to cup the side of your face this time. he snakes one of his hands into your hair, yanking the bow out as he curls it in his hand. 

“do you believe him?” he asks. 

“no.” you respond. 

sukuna leans closer, his lips brushing against yours as you instinctively shut your eyes. that it burns too much to look at him. 

“are you lying to me?” 

“n-no.” you mumble back, as you try to lean in but feel sukuna pull back. 

when you open your eyes, you can’t but pout as he smiles at you, as he grins at you after pulling away. 

“don’t be a tease, sukuna.” 

he laughs into your neck, before the warmth blooms on your neck as his lips connect to your skin, as he leaves a trail of warm kisses up the side of your neck. each new spot he touches has you nearly melting in his touch, as he can feel you slouching onto him, leaning your entire body weight against his. 

he continues that way, refusing to kiss you full on the mouth, as you feel your skin bloom warmth with every new place that he touches. each of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, even your eyelids that you’ve fluttered shut this entire time. some part of it is agonizing, that he continues to give but won’t receive in return. 

you take his collar into your hands, crumpling the fabric as you yank him straight and feel him smile against your lips. 

“needy?” 

“please. i want to-” 

sukuna cuts you off before you can finish your request, the first inclination of your begging snapping the very little patience he had in the first place. your lips are soft and warm against his, as you surely spread that glittery nonsense over him, over his neck as you start peppering kisses over him. from how shy and awkward he’s seen you, he swallows down the surprise at how eager you are, at the way you’re basically pawing at him through his shirt.  

except you pull back, wide eyed, when the two of you hear pounding up the step, accompanied by two voices getting louder in your ears. 

“y/n!!! y/n, y/n merry christmas!!!” yuuji bellows, as you shove sukuna onto the floor and sit upright as he pads into the room and wraps you in a hug. 

sukuna wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he stands up, giving megumi a nod, as yuuji turns to him and shakes hands. sukuna can’t help but smile at how pink your cheeks are, swollen lips and glazed eyes, as megumi and yuuji settle into both of your sides, arms wrapped around you. 

you swallow hard as you look at sukuna, wide eyed as you noticed all the lipgloss that you left over him. and pale when megumi notices the big red mark on his neck. 

“is that a rookie mark, sukuna?” 

sukuna brings his hand up to his neck, only to be met back with the glitter on his fingers as he smiles - or more appropriately, grins at you - as you feel your cheeks go pink. 

“who gave you that sukuna? your neighbor?” yuuji asks. 

you feel your eyes go wide, as sukuna pinches his eyes at yours before responding. 

“no. i haven’t talked to her in a while.” 

you tuck away the detail, making sure to ask him about it later. it’s only now that sukuna’s reputation comes to the forefront of your mind, as you realize you might have made a grave mistake by letting sukuna indulge in whatever infatuation it is he’s having with you. 

“yuuji. did you say hello to y/n’s sister?” he asks. 

“she’s back in town?” he asks, turning to you. 

“mhm. got back in today.” you murmur, as the two of them shoot you a smile and shuffle back into your room. 

sukuna lifts you up by your wrists, as he starts fixing your appearance little by little. you can feel him zipping up the back of your dress - entirely unsure when he even had the time to do that - as he snags the little bow from his pocket and smooths it back into your hair. 

“whose your neighbor?” 

“jealous, princess?” he asks. 

you turn around, poking one of your hands into the muscle of his chest. 

“sukuna. i am not going to be one of your little lack-” 

“you are not a lackey.” he whispers. 

you pout at him, entirely disbelieving, as he wraps his hands around your face, the kiss sweeter, softer than the ones the two of you had just shared on the bed. 

“you’d kill me if you did that.” you murmur. 

“you think i relish in your pain?” he asks. 

“dunno. you-” 

he leans your head up again, tucking his head into the softness of your neck as he starts peppering kisses you again. your hands are a futile attempt to stop him, as he laughs into your skin. 

“i’m here to make you feel good. i’ve been thinking about it for weeks.” 

“oh?” 

“let me. you- you’ve always been my pretty girl. and no one can make you feel good, treat you like you should, better than me.” 

you push him off again as megumi and yuuji come back, with your sister in tow, as they gesture for you to join them downstairs. and sukuna follows behind, as you fight the urge to beam, when he secures his hand into yours behind their backs.

--

next part linked here

an: do NAWT ask for a part 2 bc I will do it. my brain is steaming. I am thinking thoughts.

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks

[myfandomrealitea]

Just a reminder that:

Joey Batey has actively combated scenes, information, plots, details and lore being cut from the show by including it in his songs.

Joey Batey has been the lead songwriter and composer for all of Jaskier's music since the start of the show. That's three whole seasons worth of music so far. That's six years of writing and producing music.

Joey Batey has embodied Jaskier as bisexual since day one, and actively admitted to having to write over 7,000 words across multiple emails (excluding phone calls and in-person meetings) to fight against the choices the writers and runners were proposing for the 'reveal' scene(s) and future scenes.

Joey was one of the first people during the video interviews to praise Henry after the DeuxMoi smear campaign and has displayed nothing but respectful support for him amidst the chaos. He also did his best to imply that Henry hadn't been fired, despite the active rumors otherwise and the blanket ban on addressing actual details.

Joey filmed the Rience torture scene for over twelve consecutive hours despite being in pain and feeling nauseated and experiencing significant mental distress and being in freezing cold temperatures, outside, in the middle of winter.

Has, without fail, always supported his female co-stars and had nothing but good things to say about them. Has never sexualised them once or behaved inappropriately, and always ensures they get equal press coverage when doing group or duo events.

Read the books, played the games and asked Henry to help him prepare for and portray Jaskier as an accurate representation of Dandelion and Dandelion's personality and characteristics despite the show's shoddy writing.

[slamminslamminmcgill]

I need to be high off my ass while deadpool fucks me. That’s it. that’s the post. Wade wilson the man that you are. Hurfgghdhhhh. yeah. weed makes me horny so definitely that…… Deadpool….. save me………….. headlock….. his arms…. ehhshhhshhhhh

deadpool headlock on drugs inspired by my last dick appointment coming right up!!

warning: intox (weed), choking, oral, daddy kink, humiliation, transphobic slurs

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy

suggested listening: Gorillaz - Superfast Jellyfish (trying something new w/ poolposting!! i love the deadpool soundtrack and the vibes the music creates for each scene so im trying to emulate that. also discovered recently that this is a perfect song to smoke and get your pussy ate to 😌)

“What was that? Didn’t quite catch that, sugarcunt. Speak up for me, will ya?”

“F-Feels so… feels so fucking gooooood…”

“Mm, but does it? If you’re still speaking in complete sentences, then my work’s not done. Go ahead and take another hit. Or two. Y’know what? Just finish the bowl. I’ll pack you another if you’re still too smart for my liking.”

Wade punctuated his order with a sharp smack to your cunt, sloppy with his spit and your need. His mask was pulled up just over his mouth so he could service you.

This motherfucker was trying to kill you. Or at the very least, give you some form of brain damage. Every consecutive orgasm reduced your cognitive functioning. To his credit, though, it sounded like a generous offer when he first proposed it.

“You need to relax, honey-boo. How’s about you smoke up while I go down, if you catch my drift?"

He was lying on his stomach, his chin resting in his hands, his legs in the air kicking back and forth, watching as you took rapid fire bong hits. You tried your best to burn through the bowl as quickly as you could, and you got about three solid clouds out before you started coughing. Hard.

“That’s it. You got it,” Wade cooed, stroking your inner thigh, “Just cough out all those neurons for me, good boy. Daddypool’s stupid little boy, I’m so proud of you!” He used your coughing fit as an opportunity to sneak two fingers inside you, and gawked at how you hard you clenched them. “Ooh, yeah, you got some good grip strength in you, cupcake. Squeezing those fingers like a hug from a church-going grandma. 'Am I gonna see you next week at the bake sale, honey?' Oh, yes, you will, Miss Nancy!"

What? What in the actual fuck is he yapping about? Was that supposed to be a joke? You had no mental bandwidth left to even speak, let alone dissect Wade's meandering, confusing, drawn-out metaphors for your pussy. "Wh… Wha-a-a?"

"Oh, that’s sounding much dumber, baby! Good boy!" He said cheerily, sliding his fingers out and wiping them on his suit. "Seems like you’re just about ready for Daddy."

--

"Oh my god, look at you! You look so cute pinned down like this! Aw, you can’t move, can you, dummy? Nowhere for you to go, huh? Except back onto Daddy’s cock where you belong."

Wade had you on your back, your ankles on his shoulders, his hands gripping your thighs as he pounded into you, over and over, deeper and deeper. So deep, in fact, it was as if he was shoving your womb up into your throat. Choking on that and a mouthful of drool, you cried out for him, pawing at his arms just to feel him close to you.

“Daddy—Da-! Daddy, Daddyyy-y-y~!”

Wade could see the desperation on your face, that yearning for closeness, and dangled it over your head. “Aw, poor baby, you need a hug? But you’re already hugging me so tight, with that—f-fucking wet honey-pot cunt you’ve got there—ah! Fuck! Ah… shit, I got’cha, come here.”

Wade withdrew his hips, leaving you gaping and empty without his cock stretching you out. He leaned down to wrap his arms tightly around you, though before you could hug him back, he flipped you onto your stomach. He pressed a firm hand onto your back to keep you lying prone on the mattress. With you trapped beneath him once again, he pushed back in.

“Ooooh, that’s it, babyboy, that’s the ticket.”

You sobbed into the pillows, keeping your sounds timid and muffled, and your dignity somewhat intact. But Wade wouldn’t let you off that easy. He hooked his arms around your neck and yanked you up into him. The pressure on your windpipe turned your moans into weak gasps and sputters. The lack of oxygen set your nerves alight, burning with hypersensitivity. And to make matters worse, he wouldn’t stop growling filth right into your ear.

“God, I can feel my balls smacking your tiny little tranny dick like this… Can feel you twitching… So fuck—so fucking wet… Mmmm, I’m gonna shoot the biggest fuckin’ load into you... Not… not yet though… No, I’m not done with you, yet, slutter-butter. I can just… mmm, edge myself inside you… keep you nice and full… All. Fucking. Night.”

[emo-batboy]

Battinson Guest Starring on TV Shows

SO

For someone who holds the title of Richest Man in the World, Bruce doesn’t do a lot of traveling.

Which is to say he does a LOT of traveling, but he always tries to find a way out of it.

(Are there bat-related reasons for this? Are there people-related reasons for this? Are there anxiety-related reasons for this? Who knows?)

But partners and sponsors aren’t always going to tolerate his hermit-like tendencies. So once every month or so, Alfred wrangles Bruce into a private jet and sends him off to who knows where so he can represent the company.

Usually, it’s somewhere close on the East Coast, maybe it’s across the pond, even Asia isn’t off the table, but the rarest place to spot Bruce Wayne is actually the West Coast of the US.

One day, it is announced that Bruce Wayne will be spending two (count ‘em, 2) consecutive weeks in California with his kids for some grand business convention.

The West Coast media goes feral with the news, ESPECIALLY interviewers. And because Bruce kicks up such a fuss this time, Alfred has the gall to sign him up for FOUR TV appearances.

Here are these appearances :)

RuPaul’s Drag Race

Drag Queens, especially Drag Race all-stars, contribute to a wide variety of charities

So on a new episode, the queens are challenged to design and shoot a promotional ad for their own charity

And who better to act as a guest judge for this episode than the show’s largest benefactor, CEO of the Wayne Foundation, Bruce Wayne?!

Physically? He’s older than half of the contestants. But spiritually? He screams Baby Gay.

Fifteen minutes into the episode, Bruce is welcomed into the werkroom where he gives them pointers on their campaign. He’s in his cute little three-piece suit (Alfred’s idea) with the intention of looking put-together and knowledgeable. But that’s not the only outcome.

They all flirt with him. Everyone, single or taken. The confessionals are so thirsty.

“He’s lucky the cameras are on. Otherwise, I’d eat him up faster than a bachelorette party in a buffet line.”

“My celebrity crush is talking to me, and all I can focus on are his gorgeous eyes. How am I supposed to know what he's saying?”

Of course, they shoot their shot, but most of it is joking since they don't know he's bi yet.

“Are you single, honey?” Bruce blushes. “It’s complicated.” “Well, I’ll make it simple for you.”

We all know this man can't handle being flirted with. We saw how he froze when Selina did it. It’s like he mentally bluescreens when someone calls him a pet name.

Only THEN do they learn he's bi

One of the queens jokingly asks him, “Ever been with a man before?” thinking it would be a firm no, but Bruce says, “Actually, yes.” “Oh shit, really?” And to Bruce’s embarrassment, the whole room hears him.

The flirting is thus taken up a notch.

On the main stage, Bruce has a lot of great constructive criticism. He talks about how to find the right audience, the importance of a good slogan, and even goes on a little rant about logo design.

(You cannot convince me that Bruce hasn’t hyperfixated on the business of charity work before. Or the science of marketing. They’re his favorite business topics.)

After about three minutes of him complimenting one contestant for their Drag Library pitch, he stops himself mid-sentence and says, “Oh sorry, am I talking too much?” “No, please! Keep talking, sweetheart.” Bruce covers his face to hide his blush. “Why is everyone flirting with me?” “Baby, have you seen yourself?”

While the judges deliberate, RuPaul mentions Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve, and Talent. Bruce nods along for a while then suddenly just blurts out, “Wait, does it spell ****?”

The judges pause then burst out laughing. “Oh no, we’ve traumatized him!" Bruce is blushing up a storm. “I just never thought about it like that!” “Sweet, innocent Bruce. We’re so sorry.”

It’s later revealed that Bruce offered to help some of the queens launch their charity projects through the Wayne Foundation.

It’s v cute 🥰

Nailed It!

I love Nicole Byer.

She is Mother.

In all seriousness, she’s so fucking funny and she’s personable enough to pull Bruce out of his shell a bit.

The theme for this episode is Found Family. Three pairs of family members compete together—a gay father and his adopted son, an aunt who adopted her niece, and a stepfather and stepdaughter.

Because Bruce Wayne famously adopted two children, he is invited to guest judge.

So Nicole opens the episode with a zinger, the contestants are introduced, and Bruce is welcomed onto the judge’s panel beside Nicole and Jacques.

(Yes, Bruce does speak French. Yes, Nicole makes a joke about it being hot.)

Nicole: “We were surprised you accepted our invitation, Mr. Wayne. You’re notorious for staying on the East Coast. What brought you to the Nailed It! Studio?” Bruce: “My children love this show. They always tell me I should be on it since I’m so bad at baking.” Nicole: “Really? Maybe we should do a celebrity season of Nailed It! and have you compete.” Bruce: “No, you should not.”

Nicole: “So, Bruce, I know you have a butler at home who bakes for you. But what’s the grossest thing you’ve eaten? Escargot? Bad caviar?” Bruce: “I drank olive oil straight from the bottle once.” Nicole: “…What?”

The problem for Bruce is he can’t say anything bad. It just feels mean :(

(And he would rather jump into oncoming traffic than gamble with a social interaction)

For the first challenge, the contestants make cake pops. But when Bruce tries the first one, there is a sickening crunch. Bruce’s eyes widen for a second and he slowly chews.

Nicole: “What was that? Bruce, are you okay?” Bruce, clearly struggling: “It’s…good.”

“Bruce, you can spit it out. It’s okay.” “I already swallowed it.” “Oh, you poor thing.” Bruce chokes for a second, and Nicole pats his back. “Please don’t die. We can’t afford it.”

For the big challenge, production has a surprise in store for Bruce.

Dick (9) and Jason (7) run onto the set and smother Bruce with a hug.

It’s adorable. Bruce no longer cares about paying attention, okay? His kids are here :D

The two boys read from cue cards to announce the second challenge: a three-tiered Gotcha Day cake. And as per tradition, the winner of the first challenge gets a leg-up.

This time, it’s a Helping Hands Button. When they hit the button, Dick and Jason will run over and help them for three minutes. (While being supervised, of course.)

As the contestants bake, Nicole says hello to Dick and Jason, who are clambering all over Bruce like a jungle gym. They both shake her hand and talk about how they love the show.

Nicole looks pointedly at the two empty chairs beside Bruce. “You know, we brought these chairs for you two to sit in.” Dick, on Bruce’s shoulders: “We’re fine, Ms. Byer!” Nicole: “Ms. Byer? Oh, you’re a cutie, aren’t you?”

Just ten minutes before the challenge is over, the Helping Hands button is pressed, and Dick and Jason are given stools so they can help the aunt and niece stack their cake tiers.

Two minutes in, the aunt instructs them to let go of the cake. But the moment Jason pulls his hands away, the cake topples over and covers him in frosting. Jason, whispering: “Oh f*ck.” Bruce: “Jason!” Jason: “I didn’t say that! Dick did!” Nicole: *cackling as Bruce buried his face in his hands*

Jason gets cleaned up, and Dick helps them stack what can still be salvaged.

When Wes brings out the trophy, he’s dressed as Batman. Dick and Jason gets a kick out of that.

Celebrity Family Feud

Bruce was invited to the show after his SNL skit went viral a few months ago

This episode, the teams are split up by cities they grew up in. Gotham v. Star City. Naturally, his team is playing for the Wayne Foundation.

It’s a pretty odd cast of people, most of them having moved to LA or Hollywood. Bruce is the only one to still live in Gotham.

They have fun, though, despite their limited common ground. The audience has a few good laughs.

(Some at Bruce's expense)

Harvey: You're a very wealthy man, Mr. Wayne. What do you really do in that tower all day? Bruce: I, uh…business? Harvey: …You business. Bruce: ……Wait-

All in good fun. Bruce just vibes in his little corner until he needs to answer a question. It's pretty chill.

For exactly half of the episode.

Then it happens.

Steve Harvey takes two people from each team up to the buzzer and says, “We asked 100 people: Name something your parents always told you as a kid.”

What the production failed to consider is how this particular question might be a sensitive topic for some contestants.

Bruce’s team gets the question, and Steve saunters up to Bruce, completely oblivious.

“Alright, Bruce Wayne!” Bruce nods awkwardly. “Hi, Steve.” “Bruce, what’s wrong? You’re looking a bit uncomfortable.” “…I don’t like this question, Steve.” “Why not?” Bruce just gives him a desperate look, and it clicks. “Oh! Oh my gosh!”

Let’s be real. Bruce is awkward enough, but Steve Harvey cannot save an awkward moment for his life either.

But he tries his best anyway and asks, “Are you okay with answering this question, or would you like to pass?” Bruce nods frantically. “I can answer. ‘I love you.’” “I love you too, Mr. Wayne.” “No, uh, my answer is ‘I love you.’” “Oh! That’s a good one.”

Thankfully, the audience erupts in laughter. That little interaction cuts the tension, and Bruce’s answer ends up on the board.

And by god, the memes

“I love you too, Mr. Wayne” is the new “Enjoy your meal.” “You too.”

The audio clip of “I don’t like this question, Steve” goes viral on TikTok

Someone gets a pic of Bruce and Steve looking at each other with palpable fear in their eyes, and it makes its rounds all over Twitter

10/10 never again

Running Wild with Bear Grylls

Now this is the most challenging. Not because it’s difficult, of course. But because Bruce has to look stupid enough to maintain his Brucie Wayne persona but smart enough to keep himself safe.

For this episode, Bear takes Bruce to the California desert.

“How much do you know about survival, Bruce?” Bear asks. Bruce nods carefully. “I did some survival training once with a friend from boarding school.” “Oh really, how did you do?” “Fine, I think.”

This is, of course, his way of saying I trained with a league of assassins for years, but Bear can’t know that! And that’s how most of the episode goes.

Thank god Bruce's fear of being caught is mistaken for being scared of the physical challenge because every time Bear points out how well he’s doing, he breaks into a sweat.

Bear: For a businessman, you’re surprisingly fit. Bruce, sweating bullets: Oh, this is all just for show.

Bear: Wow, you’re a natural. Are you sure you’ve never set up a zip-line before? Bruce, gripping his equipment so tight he gets rope burn: I think it’s just the survival instincts.

Of course, he pretends to be out of breath a few times. The Drama.

Bruce, pretending to slip and fall: Ouch! Who knew the outdoors were so dangerous? Bear, you are crazy. Bruce, internally: How much longer are we doing this?

Bruce being a vegetarian is actually a point of contention. You see, Bear always makes their celebrity guests do something crazy for food like skin a snake or eat a mouse. Scavenging for berries just doesn’t grab the audience’s attention.

But do you know what is vegetarian?

Bear: Now, in extreme cases of survival, it’s not rare for humans to resort to drinking their own pee. That’s what we’ll be doing in a moment. Are you up for it? Bruce, visibly repulsed: I’ve had Gotham tap water. I’ll be fine.

How on God’s Green Earth did Alfred convince him to do this?

To get to the extraction point, Bear takes Bruce down a cliffside.

Bear shows Bruce the meticulous process of properly belaying from the top of a cliff, and Bruce, who has done this over 100 times is like, “Wow that’s so dangerous :( Will we be okay?”

He really tries to ramp up his acting skills this time.

(Little does he know that’s not necessary.)

Bruce goes down first as Bear belays with a cameraman filming from the top. Halfway down, Bruce hears a scuffle, and the cameraman yells, “F*ck!”

Bruce looks up, arms already out for protection, and he sees a small disk falling towards him. It’s the lens cap. He catches it on instinct.

For a second, he thinks, “Shit, was that too skilled? That’s not enough to make people think I’m Batman, right? I just caught it in midair while dangling from a cliff. That’s totally not weird and suspicious. Normal people do that—“

Then Bear yells, “Bruce, drop it!” Bruce looks up at Bear, confused. “Why?” “There's a scorpion!” That’s when Bruce looks at the lens cap and sees a black scorpion perched on top with its tail ready to strike.

They don’t have those in Gotham.

Bruce jumps in his harness and flings the cap at the rocky cliffside. He hears a crunch, and the scorpion and cap tumble to the ground. Bruce frowns. Can a scorpion survive that drop?

“You just killed a scorpion, mate!” Bear cries. Bruce looks up in horror. “I killed it?!” “Hell yeah!” Bruce’s face falls. “No!”

Because oh. shit.

Bruce just killed something. The sad, orphaned vegetarian just killed a scorpion.

Bruce has a meltdown.

He didn’t mean to kill it!!!! Oh no, he just killed an innocent little creature. Yeah, he punches people for fun sometimes, and he definitely put a few violent criminals in the hospital, but he’s never committed MURDER!!

This poor little scorpion died due to his own negligence, and he feels so so so bad about it.

Bruce is a mess as he climbs the rest of the way down.

Bruce, cradling the scorpion’s body: I don’t know how to perform CPR on a scorpion! Bear: Bruce, you took its head clean off. Bruce: *sad noises*

Legit inconsolable. To him, it’s like he just murdered a puppy

Once they're out, Bear is trying to cheer him up. Bless him.

Bear: We’ve conquered the wild! Haven’t we, Bruce? Bruce, head between his legs, still mourning the scorpion: I’m never going outside again.

Yeah, no one’s going to think he’s Batman after that.

And that's all four of Bruce's TV appearances from the West Coast :) Dick and Jason never let him live any of it down. Alfred is almost sorry. (He is not sorry.)

Let me know your thoughts! What other TV shows do you think Battinson would appear on as a guest?

Okie dokie :D Love y'all! Have a good day <3

[taevescence]

Cross The Line | Jeon Jungkook

a/n: This is a little idea I had since I published Echoes of love and as the rest of my pending projects are too long to publish them soon, I brought this as a way to cover my absence :) You can request some scenery for this drabble series through my inbox! Summary: After years of working with Jungkook, your insecurity about your feelings for him begins to grow and become more complex, bringing you to the point where you wonder if you can really keep fooling yourself or if it's time to face those feelings. Pairing: Boss!Reader x Secretary!Jungkook WC: 3.8k Taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss @yooglefics Dividers by @cafekitsune

“Is this the last thing on today's agenda?” you murmured, continuing your way to your office. Each step you took was followed by the soft, firm sound of your heels tapping against the floor. Today, you were wearing wine-colored ones, which matched perfectly with your lipstick and shirt in the same shade.

Red was the color you wore when you were about to fire someone or, in worse circumstances, when you were about to end up in an argument with one of your siblings. This time, the correct answer was the second one. You were the second oldest of four siblings, and, well, when your family was as chaotic as yours, you had to take charge of the problems, even if that meant putting your own image at risk.

You hated your life in this sense.

“Yes, boss,” Jungkook replied cheerfully.

Ah, your little—not so little—secretary, Jungkook. To be honest, you hired him because you were desperate to find a secretary as quickly as possible, something that, although it sounded easy, was actually really complicated.

You were a pretty cruel, strict, and direct person. You scared away your workers in less than a month (in fact, the same year you hired Jungkook, you'd already had three other secretaries—three!). Jungkook was your lifesaver. He had just come out of his last job, had a resume that sounded too flattering to be true, and had graduated with honors. You thought he would last only a few months, just like all the others, and you thought you could take full advantage of that time. The surprise came when five months passed and he was still working for you without a single complaint.

Now, it had been a total of four and a half years working together as boss and employee. He had lasted even longer than any relationship you’d ever had—it was officially your longest relationship! Though it wasn’t like you were proud of that.

“After the meeting with your brother, you had a dinner with your family, but it got canceled at the last minute,” Jungkook’s steps quickened as yours grew more impatient and longer. “Oh, and, um, tonight I was planning to have a small party at my apartment for my 27th birthday… in case you’d like, you know, to attend,” he murmured, his tone softer and less playful.

Yes, you might’ve forgotten that little detail. He was hopelessly in love with you, strange, right?

The first time you realized, you almost made him cry because of the horrified look you gave him. Not that the idea grossed you out, but, to be completely honest, you had been torturing him since he started working. You’d call him to work on his days off, ask him to run errands on weekends, force him to stay late to finish your extra work, and you even had to spend three consecutive Christmases together due to the lack of staff that year.

He was an extremely sweet guy, a guy who loved banana milk, Hello Kitty plushies, and fantasy and romance books—you discovered this when you saw him reading The Lunar Chronicles during his lunch break—and then there was you… someone who loved her coffee extremely strong, hated plushies and how ridiculously large they could be, and preferred to read more informational books than fantasy ones.

“Are you celebrating your birthday today?” you said with a disinterested tone, slowing your steps as you approached Soomin’s office, your star employee and—unfortunately—the girlfriend of Taehyung. Your office was under renovation and you couldn’t use it until next week, so you had been using Soomin’s office during this time.

“Yes! I wanted to do it last week, but you were too busy, and I really wanted you to come, but that doesn’t mean you have to if you don’t want to! I understand it’s been a busy week, and even if it hasn’t, you don’t have to come because we’re just coworkers and—”

“I think I got it, Jungkook,” you chuckled quietly, feeling a warmth in your chest at how easy it was to make the young man nervous beside you. You hadn’t even opened your mouth, and he was already rambling like crazy, wasn’t it adorable?

“Oh, yeah, sure…” he muttered as his cheeks heated up and turned red. It was incredibly easy to make him nervous, and you loved making him nervous. Not that you liked it, just... it was cute to see.

You stopped in front of Soomin’s office door, opening it to be greeted by the very unpleasant sight of your older brother sitting in the chair in front of the desk. You rolled your eyes and entered reluctantly, waiting for Jungkook to follow you and close the door behind him.

“Finally, you’re here. I thought I was going to die waiting for you,” Junmyeon got up from the chair, slipping both hands into his designer pants pockets. Your wild side screamed for you to grab the ink from Soomin’s desk and spill it on him, but you weren’t in the mood for family fights. “Good afternoon, Jungkook.”

“Good afternoon,” Jungkook responded in a much deeper and more serious tone than the one he used to speak to you.

One thing you loved about your secretary was how incredibly loyal he was to you. Your brother had tried to offer him a job hundreds of times, putting ridiculously high salaries for a secretary on the table; he turned them all down without thinking.

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t make your heart race a little. Just a little.

“Alright, you have five minutes to tell me what mess you’ve gotten into now. If you’re back in trouble with your girlfriend, then start forgetting about my help. I don’t want any more love problems.”

You still remembered the poor girl who had the terrible luck of dating your brother. You had found him with another girl at a bar near his work, and you were furious enough to go to him and pull a good chunk of hair from the not-so-poor girl.

It was a pity, she was actually someone you liked, made you laugh at every family dinner, and could cook delicious dishes. Plus, she was ridiculously beautiful, and you weren’t even sure what she was doing with your brother.

“It’s nothing serious, I just came here to ask you for a favor,” he said, stepping closer to you but instantly halting as he noticed Jungkook stopping right by his side, his eyes glued to every move he made. Jungkook could be as sweet as sugar most of the time, but he really seemed to raise all his alarms whenever your brother—or any man for that matter—got too close to you.

“There’s an investor I want to get in touch with, but he insisted he’d only speak to me if I arranged a dinner with you.”

“Then he can keep waiting. I’m not going,” you said, turning around, ready to head back home and do anything that didn’t involve spending more time with this idiot. Maybe you’d drop by Taehyung’s place and bother him for a while; he owed you after everything you’d done for him this year.

“Oh, come on, it’s just a dinner. I’m not asking you to sleep with him,” he pressed, reaching out to grab your wrist. His hand was quickly intercepted by Jungkook, who stepped between the two of you and grabbed Junmyeon’s arm with enough strength to give him a little scare."

“She said no, now, please, stop insisting and get lost,” Jungkook said in a calm but firm tone. Both you and your brother shuddered slightly at the tone of his voice, but for completely different reasons.

“Let it go, Jungkook, it’s not worth it,” you placed your hand on his arm, smiling inwardly as you saw how his whole body relaxed at your touch. Why did he have to be so sweet? “I won’t do it, no matter how much you insist. Make sure you leave the door closed when you leave.”

And with that, you left the office, feeling Jungkook’s soft footsteps following you behind. Hearing them calmed you a little more. Maybe, it even made you feel a little safer than before.

It had been hours since the incident with your brother, hours in which you spent wondering if you should really attend Jungkook’s party or simply ignore it and move on. Would there be any problem if you went? It was just a party, they’d probably eat something, drink a little, talk about trivial things, and then you’d go back home in a taxi. What’s the worst that could happen?

“I really don’t understand what you’re doing here,” Taehyung said, letting out a heavy sigh as he watched you finish off his last reserve of coffee. He hated how bitter it was, but his girlfriend loved to drink coffee in the mornings, so he had gone out of his way to buy one of the stupidly expensive brands he found at the store, with the excuse that “his girlfriend deserved the best of the best.” Both you and Soomin nearly fainted when you heard the price. “Wasn’t Jungkook’s birthday today? Minnie told me she was going to his apartment tonight for that reason.”

“It is, but I don’t know if I should go,” you murmured, stirring your third spoonful of coffee into your cup before filling it to the brim with boiling water. You didn’t miss the grimace of disgust from your friend as he watched how you prepared your drink. He had no right to blame you when he ate far worse things.

“Why not? I thought you liked him, I mean, you even have him as Jungkookie in your phone,” he raised an eyebrow, his tone playful, resting his forearms on the kitchen counter. All his attention was on you and how you tried to drink your coffee in one gulp.

The burn in your throat was enough to distract you from whatever you’d been feeling in your chest all afternoon. Just like your father used to say, there was nothing better than pain to heal another pain.

“He’s my secretary.”

“He’s a guy.”

“He’s my worker, Taehyung.”

“He’s a pretty handsome guy, Y/N.”

You both exchanged looks for a few seconds, neither of you commenting on it.

“I’m ready!” Soomin entered the kitchen, looking just as charming as always. She wore a beige dress with a plaid coat in autumn tones. Her hair was gracefully tied in a high ponytail, giving her a cheerful and youthful look.

It didn’t go unnoticed by you that both of them were matching, nor could you ignore the loving and admiring look Taehyung gave her as soon as her small figure appeared at the kitchen door.

“You look as dazzling as ever, darling,” Taehyung said in a soft, honeyed tone. His hand took hers and made her spin once before pulling her close to kiss her temple.

And there you were. In front of them. Watching them exchange sweet words and romantic gestures.

You felt incredibly out of place.

“Please tell me you’re staying here, because I don’t think I can handle a ride in the same car as you two,” you muttered with a grimace of disgust, looking at Taehyung with the most pleading look you could muster.

“Of course I’ll go, he’s my friend too,” he responded with a teasing smile as he wrapped his arms around Soomin’s waist.

You wanted to hit him. You wanted to grab his perfectly styled hair and pull it until he was bald. He deserved it.

“I hate you.”

“I adore you too.”

And you responded by flipping him off.

“Wait, what did you say?” you frowned, watching as both Taehyung and Soomin stayed in the car, looking at you through the open window.

“I’m so sorry, I really don’t know how I forgot the gift at home,” yeah, maybe it was because Taehyung had been too busy kissing her poor face to think about anything else, “We won’t take long, I promise, it’ll be a quick trip there and back.”

You sighed when you heard Soomin. You didn’t want to arrive alone, especially not when you didn’t know how many people would be at Jungkook’s birthday party, but you also understood that they didn’t want to show up without the gift they had bought for him. After all, it was his party.

“Fine, go ahead, I’ll go first,” you said quietly, shaking your hair in frustration. Was it Taehyung’s fault? Half of it, would you hate him for it? Totally. He was your friend, and you had every right to want to choke him for putting you in this situation. You could see it in that smug smile he was giving you; Soomin could say it was an accident, but Taehyung’s face screamed that it was a carefully planned trap.

He would pay for this.

“We’ll be back in a bit,” Soomin murmured with an apologetic smile just before the car drove off, leaving you completely alone in the apartment complex where Jungkook lived.

“Okay, I guess it’ll just be you and me,” you looked at the gift bag in your hand, letting your feet take you to the door marked 309, where the party was supposed to be.

The walk there was silent, the only noise in the place was the sound of your boots clicking against the slick floors of the building’s hallways and the occasional little voice screaming at you to go back home, that this was a bad idea, that you weren’t made for these kinds of things.

You were supposed to be that rich, single aunt that all the nieces and nephews loved because she took them on amazing vacations and all that stuff you always saw in movies. You weren’t the protagonist, you were the supporting character that everyone remembered, whether they loved you or hated you.

Yet, here you were, in front of Jungkook’s apartment, holding a small gift bag, impatiently waiting for him to open the door and greet you so you could stop hearing that voice in your head telling you to run away from this place.

“Hey-” Jungkook stopped halfway through the word when he realized it was you on the other side of his door. Although he had expected you to come, he never thought you would actually show up.

You had been ignoring his birthday invitations since, well, since he started inviting you.

“Miss Y/N, you came!” A big smile spread across his face, and his eyes seemed to light up even more than usual. You forced yourself to ignore the pressure in your chest at seeing him so excited about your appearance.

“Just call me Y/N, we’re not at work,” you murmured, swaying awkwardly in your spot. “Can I, uh, you know, come in?”

“Oh, yes, sorry! Please, come in!” He stepped aside, giving you space to enter his small but cozy home.

You carefully stepped in, taking off your shoes and placing them to the side, quietly thanking Jungkook for the slippers he offered so you could come in.

“I’m sorry for coming alone, Taehyung and Soomin forgot something and went back,” you said as you walked further into the space. You noticed how all the walls were painted black, with several monochrome paintings hanging on them.

You were quite surprised to see that everything in his home was dark-toned. It was very similar to yours in that sense, something that made you feel a little more at ease. At least your tastes in home decor were similar.

Your house was much larger, always dark, and the atmosphere always felt cold and lonely. It was hard to feel that here. You convinced yourself it was due to the warm lighting and the coziness of the place, not Jungkook’s presence.

"Should I offer you something to drink? I have wine, champagne… I also have beer and soju," Jungkook's voice sounded a little muffled as his head was deep inside the refrigerator. You chuckled softly at this, gently pressing your fingers against your mouth to prevent him from noticing.

"Soju is fine, thanks," you watched as he pulled out two bottles and placed them on the counter, quickly heading to one of the kitchen cabinets to grab two small glasses. "Didn't you invite more people?" you asked after seeing him stop in front of you, performing some completely unnecessary bottle tricks. At least he had made you laugh a little.

"I celebrated my birthday last week with my university friends, today I just wanted to invite the people from work," he served the alcohol until both glasses were filled to the brim, his gaze occasionally drifting to your face. He could act charismatic, but you could notice the slight tremble in his hands and how he licked his lips from time to time. "I didn't mention it earlier because I thought it wouldn't be important."

You nodded silently, drinking the shot he just handed you in one go. You needed to ease some of the tension in your body, and alcohol was definitely the best option for now. "So I guess it will just be the four of us."

"Oh, yeah, I thought you'd feel more comfortable this way," he murmured softly, tapping his fingers on the glass of his cup. "I know you don't like to hang out with too many people, especially if it's people you don't know."

You took the soju bottle and poured yourself another full glass. You'd need more than two bottles to get through this night without doing something you'd regret tomorrow. Jungkook wasn't helping at all.

"Thanks for that," you gave him a tight-lipped smile, watching the clear liquid in your glass. How much longer until Soomin and Taehyung arrived? "Oh, yes, almost forgot," you left the small gift bag you were carrying on the counter, noticing how Jungkook's eyes lit up again at what seemed like a new discovery to him. Hadn't he seen you bring it when you entered?

"Is this for me?" He looked at you with wide eyes and a big smile on his face.

You pinched your wrist tightly as your stomach twisted. "Uh, yeah, obviously, you're the only birthday person."

"Right, of course, I forgot," he clumsily took the bag in his hands, swallowing hard as he looked inside. "Can I open it now?"

You nodded silently, feeling your hands start to sweat at the thought of him opening your gift right then. You had planned on asking him to open it when you weren't around, when you wouldn’t have to see his face as he looked at it. There was something about having to give him something alone that made you feel too nervous for your own good.

You watched carefully as he pulled out the black velvet box, your eyes fixed on his expression as he lifted the lid and saw the contents.

It was only when you saw his cheeks turn a soft pink that you realized maybe buying him a ring hadn’t been the best idea...

"Is... is this... really for me?" He looked up, watching you with such hopeful, soft eyes and... so him that you couldn't help but blush as well.

This was not going as it was supposed to.

"Ah, yes, it's not necessary for you to wear it if you don't want to, I just thought you might like it and I bought it, but—" you stopped when you noticed him clumsily taking the ring out of the velvet and putting it on his index finger.

"I love it! Thank you so much, Y/N, I promise I’ll never take it off!" He stretched his arms toward you, and before you could do anything to stop him, he wrapped his arms around you over the counter, pulling you against him tightly.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as the scent of his shampoo and perfume hit you from so close, and the body heat from his arms didn't help with the accelerated pounding of your heart. What were you supposed to do now? Pulling away from the hug would be rude, but accepting it might be too unethical. He was your secretary. There was a line that couldn’t be crossed.

The thing was… you didn’t want to separate from the hug.

You relaxed a little at his touch, letting your own arms wrap around his body carefully. Not pressing too hard, as if doing it more gently would prevent your relationship from breaking down even further.

You stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. Both of you too absorbed in each other to really pay attention to the time or the situation you were in. You couldn’t remember the last time you let a man hug you like this.

“Y/N, I…” Jungkook pulled back a bit, just enough for your faces to be dangerously close. His arms were still tightly wrapped around you, refusing to let go at any moment.

You watched as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed and licked his lips. You weren’t supposed to notice these things, you reminded yourself, but it was too hard when it was all you had in your line of vision, and closing your eyes was even worse than keeping them open.

“I know you already know this, but I…” his voice was too soft, too low. Oh, shit, you knew what was coming, you had experienced it a few years ago. It was the same tone he used the first time he confessed his feelings to you. Your heart started pounding against your ribs, and you forced yourself to think that it was due to the anxiety and panic the situation caused you, that it was due to all the problems you’d have if he said it again. It wasn’t at all because you actually wanted to hear those words again.

Of course not.

Then everything happened too fast. You watched his eyes wander until they stopped on your lips, how his tongue ran over them, over that ring on the corner, and god, he was making your task of acting like a responsible adult so difficult. Soon his face began to move closer to yours, his gaze wandering from your mouth to your eyes, making sure you wanted this, kind of asking if you were okay with him getting dangerously close.

And for a moment, you thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, maybe, just maybe, a moment like this could be accepted, even if just once, so you closed your eyes and waited. You could feel his breath mixing with yours, how his nose barely brushed against yours, and just as his lips were about to touch yours... the door knocked.

“Shit,” Jungkook muttered quietly, lowering his head as he took a deep breath. His arms quickly released their grip around your shoulders, leaving you with a cold feeling where they had been holding you, “It must be Taehyung and Soomin… I’ll go open,” he whispered, stumbling out of the kitchen to open the door, leaving you completely alone.

You covered your mouth with your hand, staring at a blank spot on the counter, replaying everything that had just happened in your head. You were screwed, you were really screwed, even though nothing happened, you were inches away from kissing him, and god knows what else you could have done…

You thought you heard Soomin’s cheerful voice getting closer, but you couldn’t understand what she was saying, you were too busy thinking about what the hell you were going to do with… well, whatever had just happened.

When you looked up, you found yourself facing Jungkook again, both exchanging a silent glance, both communicating something completely different. Yours reflected panic and terror, his, hope and joy.

You had crossed the damn line you promised not to touch, and it was all your fault.

Yes, you were screwed, and you needed to find a way to fix things as soon as possible.

Masterlist.

[blughxreader]

Do you think escape for batsis is in the realm of possibility if she pretended long enough? I’m talking like 5-10 years of playing the long game. Enough time to gain everyone’s trust, and maybe she even grows to like them too, but still wanting her freedom back, would she possibly be able to escape the manor with enough time and ingenuity?

... Trips outside with Platonic Yandere Batfam... HC

Honestly, I doubt you could escape. Between the chip they secretly planted in your leg upon your kidnapping, the hidden agents that trail you on your outings, and the Bat's propensity to have their eyes on you at all times... it's unlikely.

But if you convince them you love them and if they're comfortable with their security system, you can finagle your way into a cozy little adventure outside!

In the beginning, after a year or two of living at the Wayne Manor and warming up to the Bats, they would consider letting you leave the house. At first it's only to private islands during carefully scheduled vacation times.

Luxury villas, private chefs, un-disrupted skylines, new books / notepads / art supplies so you can capture the moment (and so they can frame it)... It's pretty sweet actually, especially if you've ever had an "old money aesthetic" Pinterest board.

Just you, a charcuterie board of aged meats and cheeses, and Dick's leg against yours because he insists on touching you... and Tim's camera shuttering every 4 minutes... and Damian's loud insistence on having your eyes on him... and and and

After a few years, if they feel like you genuinely love them and are happy then you can convince them to let you go out! Just allow 1-3 business days for preparation.

(Also: trips outside are also an excellent bargaining chip for rights with you. Tim's "Sleep in my bed for a 10 consecutive (preferable) or nonconsecutive days this month and we can get boba and browse a bookstore" vs Damian's "If you tell Jason he's fourth favorite, I will ask father to rent out Gotham Museum for the evening so we can view the new post-impressionism exhibition" (I.E. he wants to go SO BAD but is afraid of rejection))

Jason and Damian are the easiest to convince. Just offer them an in-depth discussion on a book you two read together or a drawing/reading date, and they'll call all necessary contacts that second.

Dick and Bruce are like, "hn. but there's plenty of things to do at home."

If you begged, Dick would fold faster. Like, "Fiiiine. But only if we can rent the venue and go in disguise." Because he's not mentally prepared for paparazzi to think you two are dating.

Bruce, on the other hand, has three sleepless nights leading up to the outing and insists you hold onto him without fail the entire time.

He's most likely to rent out the rooftop of a restaurant and hire a famous ensemble. The Batkids are invited sometimes, but these trips are mostly for you and him to make some memories. Tim, Steph, and Duke 100% will pretend to be waiters. Dick disguises himself as the pianist and fumbles through the first few songs before he's invited to eat with you two.

Last but not least, Timmy. Hardest to convince but you can also get some unique, crowded locations out of him. However, because it's crowded he will handcuff you two together. Sorry, not sorry.

It might be fun going to a gaming arcade and playing a single player game with each of your hand's though. He might also introduce you to his friends as well! Game nights with them are always exciting.

for more yandere batfam, visit my masterlist!

[halfadiamond]

You Think It’s Love- Ending A

Not Taking Them Back

Masterlist

Both Endings are being posted consecutively so here is Ending B (taking them back).

You think it’s love when you realize that you’re better off as friends than as lovers.

You still remember the men’s reaction to when you told them that you didn’t think you’d be able to take them back.

Johnny looked like he wanted to cry.

Kyle and John looked a bit caught off guard.

Simon was definitely surprised at your decision but he chose to push it aside to comfort Johnny.

But you were right. John had spoken up, shortly after that, and accepted your opinion and while he didn’t fully agree to it, he’d told you that they will respect your decision but if you’d at least be open to remaining friends.

You’re not sure why but you agreed very quickly. You think it was because you really did enjoy the men’s company even if it didn’t work out between you guys, you didn’t see as to why you guys could not be friends. It may be awkward in the beginning but you were positive that you guys would be able to work it out.

—

It took a bit of work and some space for you guys to once again find what works for your friendship. You’re still happy that you got to keep the guys as friends even if it didn’t work out romantically. To you, love could be platonic, love didn’t need to be kisses and saying I love you, it could be just sitting together talking about anything on your mind and laughing together.

You and Kyle still hung out often going out to eat. You two loved just sitting there and talking (gossiping) about whatever was on your mind.

Johnny started to teach you how to draw, he’d even found a painting class and you two would often attend. You enjoyed the teasing between you two for the works of art you guys had made.

You and John formed your own little movie club where you’d often come over to your former home and watch all sorts of movies. At the end, you two would act as movie critics and discuss what you thought.

While for you and Simon, you two found a system that works for the two of you. You still would join him for his walks or you two would send each other little messages throughout the day. You think out of all of the men, you and Simon had gotten the closest.

—

You knew there was the possibility of the men finding someone else as much as there was a possibility for you. While in your case, you knew that you’d rather work on yourself and enjoy the single life, you couldn’t exactly figure out what the men’s next plans were.

It’s during your walk with Simon that you decided to ask him.

“Hey Simon?”

You heard the little grunt that you knew meant he was listening.

“I know we broke up about three months ago so maybe you guys aren’t even thinking about it. But I was curious do you think you guys would find someone new?”

Actually now that you think about it… you sound like the type of girl that wants to keep an eye on her ex boyfriends because she doesn’t want them dating anyone else.

“A-actually forget what I said! You guys don’t need to tell me about that stuff! I’ll respect whatever you guys want to!”

You stammered slightly, trying to make sure that Simon didn’t think of you as a possessive ex-girlfriend. But to Simon? He never thought of you as one.

“We did talk about it.”

He eyes you from his side, seeing your interest in his statement as you guys continued walking.

“We decided that we probably are better off, not adding anyone else into our dynamic. We have something that works for us, we don’t want a repeat of before.”

You nodded along to what he said. You suppose he’s right. As much as you’d think there’s someone out there who’d fit right in with the men, maybe it’s better sticking with what works for them and them only. But you still wanted to in a way make sure they knew that you weren’t going to stop them from finding someone new.

“You know I won’t stop you guys from finding someone else. I want you guys to be happy, so whatever works for you guys then it’s fine by me.”

“We know.”

And you guys walked quietly together, enjoying the night sky.

—

Sometimes you wonder what would’ve happened if you had taken them back. Would you guys be back at the same situation? Or would you guys found a way to communicate more better? You’re always stuck questioning every probability.

But sometimes? You don’t regret your decision. For you, it wasn’t worth the constant worrying that they’ll ignore you again, it wasn’t worth you not communicating again and leading you guys back to that day.

You think it’s love because in the end all of you guys are happier together as friends than as lovers.

Taglist: @reni502 , @darkangel4121 , @rafaelacallinybbay

To those who are being tagged, I only tagged you on this ending since both endings are posted at the same time, didn’t make much sense to double tag you 😁 unless you specifically asked to be tagged for only a certain ending.

It’s finally done 🥹 lowkey I’m gonna miss it. I didn’t feel right making it a sad ending because I think reader and the men are happy in their own way even if they didn’t get their happily ever after with each other that doesn’t mean they can’t be friends.

Anyways… now it’s time for me to find a new story to start 😭 lowkey I’m using this opportunity of both endings to chit chat a bit with you guys. I hope you guys enjoyed this story and I’ll continue working hard! 🤗

I was thinking for my next story maybe writing this? Like an eventual relationship either poly TF141 or just one of the men? Or maybe instead of Soap being dead it’s another soldier?? Maybe 🤔??