#i wanna do a light/color study for each one of them
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Walk walk fashion baby ✨
#the new intro has so many nice shots#i wanna do a light/color study for each one of them#of course estie was the first#the car maybe shit but este and pierre poses are 🔥#estie bestie#esteban ocon#eo31#my beloved spaghetto lungo#formula 1#f1#formula one#my art#alpine
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Our Sick Story, Thus Far (M)
Teddy Bear—> (yes you have to read this first)
pairing. Jeno x female reader x Haechan x ?
genre. college AU, pwp, dark fic, angst, M/F
wc. 29k
warning. profanity, bullying, forced relationship, cheating, dr*g use mentioned, blackmailing, coercion, possessive/obsessive behavior, lies deceit manipulation etc, is anyone in this story actually a good person??(the answer: no), stockholm vibes. smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.
now playing. Our Sick Story(Thus Far)//Atreyu
a/n. it’s been a long time coming and I hope the wait was worth it for this story that I had no business writing to begin with😅
dedicated to the messages I received letting me know Teddy Bear made them wanna throw up. you are going to love this one! and @notncdeeh for consistently bothering me to finish writing this💚
smut warnings. dubcon/noncon elements(DO NOT read if that makes you uncomfortable. thanks.), Jeno refers to y/n as ‘Teddy’ often, no teddy plush shall be spared, dacryphyilia, humiliation, degradation/praise, oral, anal, rimming, finger sucking, sub/dom dynamics, switching, hair pulling, slapping, protected and unprotected sex, breeding, impreg kink/forced pregnancy, cock warming, hidden camera use, choking, mind break, surprise character smut(👀).
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･
Art class had taught you more than expected when you chose the extra curriculum for ‘stress relief’ as the school’s counselor put it, emphasizing how fast you will burn out if you don’t allow yourself one light work subject.
‘Paint me something pretty today.’ Jeno smirked near the entrance, stepping backward to keep his gaze on yours until he could no longer see you from the hallway.
Blue, sky blue.
Jeno’s favorite color is sky blue, which he mentioned one day when grabbing you after class. The only one of your courses he’d been unable to transfer into because it’d interfere with his degree.
‘It’s a shame we can’t be together all day.’ Jeno traced a faded spot along the column of your throat while you studied color theory. A mixture of blue and yellow bruises speckled with red bits of gnawed skin.
Art class has taught you many things, one being- you aren’t very artistic, and that much like the blue sky had turned darker earlier these days, so had your mind.
Jeno rained trickles of blues into your favorite colors, he muddied a bright day, stained pools of misery around your world.
Sky blue is an ugly color, you think, because even as he smiled with an arm slung over your shoulders walking through the first drops of November rain; Jeno robbed hues of yellow and gold from the sun. He gathered red from the last days of summer heat and stormed through your life on a cloud tainting everything a miserable shade of black.
Art class had really become your everyday sanctuary, a time away from him. Time to pretend that Jeno had never invaded your days.
A time to daydream from aw you hid behind a canvas, imagine ‘what if’, and admire a student from across too focused on his work to spare you a glance.
and when Jeno would arrive ready to prance you through the halls as his play thing, his little toy, you couldn’t help but wonder..
In another life you could have fallen for Jeno. You could have loved him, developed a healthy relationship, formed fond memories to reflect upon together in the future.
But in this life, you hate him.
Hate may be a strong word, but as you sit across from the bane of your existence, you know one thing is certain.
You hate Jeno Lee.
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･
Perhaps it is to your detriment that Jeno has made you feel nothing, unless numbness can be classified as an emotion.
By the round of omnipresent gasps and whispers that reach your ears each time you enter a room with him, it’s hard to not fixate on the way his presence alone stirs the first rumble of what can only be classified as a concrete shattering earthquake. Maybe that’s the problem, because even when Jeno’s arms are wrapped around your waist from behind, leading you through the cafeteria to sit at a table alone with eyes of vultures ready to pick your flesh apart inch by inch; you cannot find it in yourself to care. Not anymore, not even close, not even a little.
“I like it when you wear your hair down.” Jeno whispers, fixing your loose locks to one side. “It’s really cute how you think this is enough to cover yourself and hide from me.”
Bony fingers trace patterns of sadness atop the marks he’s drawn along your throat. “Pretty.”
Cute. Pretty. Meaningless compliments, because how could they hold any meaning pouring from a soul filled with nothing but darkness.
Even as you sit pressed to his side in the back of the library, you feel sick, scribbling a mental note to wear your hair up more often. His compliments replay like a broken record, scratching the way up your thigh to a cut between the juncture of your knee. Your teeth clench as you claw your jagged nails up your inner thigh, attempting to make the mental gash real just to feel something. Dig the wound deeper, much like Jeno’s sweet words strike similar to the tip of a blunt tip knife; aimed recklessly at your soul slicing through inch by inch. Cutting you open until your blood has been drained of all life.
His eyebrows furrow, gaze following along to your hand and slapping your wrist away. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I need to use the restroom.”
“Great!” Jeno pipes up, grabbing your bag. “So do I.”
“Jeno..”
Standing up, he smiles expectantly, lip quirked to one side daring you to speak out loud against him. It’s useless, you know better by now.
“Can we make it fast this time? The bell will ring soon..” you mumble quietly, walking alongside him toward the exit.
“Worried you’ll miss your precious little painting class?” Jeno nudges you toward the mens bathroom, grabbing a hold around your elbow as he steps in first. “EMPTY OUT!” He roars, followed by an urgent shuffle and toilet flushing as one of the new Freshmen you recognize scuttles out with his head ducked, toilet paper attached to the back of his sneaker.
Jeno laughs breathily, entertained by the younger's fearful exit. The fear that he can instill in anyone easily with the snap of his fingers, or a mere glance. Turning toward you, he smiles, nodding to one of the stalls. “All yours.”
“That wasn’t necessary..” you say quietly, moving past him to find the cleanest stall available, nose scrunched in disgust as you settle on one and turn to shut the door. “Shit.” You startle jumping back, clutching at your chest.
Jeno latches onto the stalls frame, peering down at you. “No need to close the door Teddy, it’s only me.”
“Jeno, please..”
“You know I hate it when you do that.” Jeno swings his body back and forth, head shaking side to side slowly. “You said you need to use the bathroom?”
Locking your eyes to the floor, you’re at least thankful for choosing a skirt to wear today, lifting, sliding your underwear to your knees as you squat down and settle with your skirt fanned out over your thighs.
Jeno turns to laugh, rolling his eyes. “The way you still act so shy, like you’re ashamed..”
As if he hasn’t defiled you and had his way with you in every which way he prefers. “Cute.” Jeno’s gaze traces up from your sneakers to where your knees clench together, running his tongue under the inside of his lip. “Done?”
Scooting closer, his arms drop down to his sides, shoulders appearing more broad from where he looms above you. “And look at that, with time to spare still.”
Jeno grips around your upper arm, hoisting you up to your feet, panicked as you’d just begun to reach for the roll of toilet paper. “What’re yo—stop!”
Ignoring you, he flips you around to press your back against the stall, licking across his lips akin to a rabid animal. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll clean you up.”
He drops to his knees, bunching your skirt up to your waist as he perches one of your legs upon his shoulder, face burying between your thighs.
“Jeno, don’t! That’s too—“
The drag of his tongue has you choking, squirming back to get away as heat fills your cheeks, completely mortified by the sweep of his tongue running up and down. “N-no!”
Jeno groans, face shaking side to side as he makes sure to cover each inch of the skin between your thighs, tongue greedily running rampant between your folds. “That’s so disgusting.” You cry, pushing at his head, nails dug into his scalp
Jeno rushes back with a hiss, eyes snapping open wildly as he apprehends your wrists and clutches around your forearms roughly, returning the feeling with his short filed nails. “Funny how you only shut up at the worst times.” Overpowered, he pulls on your arms to launch himself back up, twisting them around your back painfully to press you to the stall chest first. “So difficult.”
Returning to his knees, he flips your skirt back up, keeping your wrists tethered with one hand. “Thought you wanted to get to class on time?” Jeno’s nose drags between your bottom, sucking in a deep inhale. “Fuck.”
He groans, biting down on the cleft of your ass hard enough to leave marks behind. A new one to join the rest that he makes sure to add daily. “Nothing about this is disgusting.” Cupping one of your buttcheeks, he bounces the meaty flesh against his face, eyes rolling up as his nose dips against your tight ring of muscle.
“Not there!” You wheeze, scrabbling to get away by uselessly scratching down the wall.
“You’ll get used to it.” He rumbles against your core, lips circling your entrance with a lewd slurp; not missing a drop of your arousal beginning to drip out. “Ridiculous how good you taste.”
Clapping your ass against his cheek without pause, Jeno’s neck bends back more, jaw opening wide to swipe his tongue from your clit to your hole, growling between short staggered breaths. Each drag of his nose slowly circling your rim humiliates you worse, biting down to keep in your complaints the more he goes for it. Splaying out his palm, he spreads your ass completely open, unveiling the taut ring of muscle clenching helplessly.
Jeno kisses at the backs of his teeth, drawing in a sharp breath as his index finger extends to tap and tease your rim, cheek dimpling to one side the more you fail to pull away. “You’ll let me fuck you here next, yeah?” He laughs, pushing your trapped fist into your lower back to form a deep arch. “Fill up all your holes, is that what you want?”
“N-no..” You grimace, face pressed to the chill bathroom stall. “Please, hurry, please.”
His tongue clicks obnoxiously, blowing on your rim before setting down a searing kiss, tongue smoothing around in a circle. “Why should I hurry? I don’t even get to fuck you.” He sneers, eyeing the time on his wrist.
“Later,” you pipe up fast, rutting back against his face to convince him. “After school, we can.. do that..”
His eyebrows shoot high, peering up in surprise. “Oh yeah? I’ll hold you to that, Teddy.” He bites down on your buttcheek again for good measure, nipping the skin roughly. “Now be good, and hold yourself open if you want to make it on time.” His grip on your wrist loosens, shaking off the sting left behind only for a second before he slaps your palms down on your butt and adjusts your position to expose both your holes. “That’s it.”
Thick arms circle around your thighs, biceps flexing to keep a snug grip on you as his hot tongue returns to your center and glides between your folds, inching lower until his lips can wrap around your clit.
“Uhhnnghhh..” you jolt, firmly tucking in your mouth to suppress a moan from soaring out.
Jeno’s hands swipe up the front of your thighs, gliding his mouth and nose from your wet hole to your clit with teasing firm flicks of his tongue; three of his digits find your bundle of nerves right as his mouth latches back around your entrance. His tongue buries deep, lifting your toes to curl up off the floor, knocking your forehead against the wall as you fight to keep in a desperate cry.
He’s relentless, tongue expertly waving against your insides, the muscle strong and thick. “Ugh!” A whine breaks through your sealed lips, smacking the stall as he taps your clit repeatedly, urging you to break down and squeeze your release around his tongue.
Jeno draws out, mouth a mess of shiny wet, panting heavily. “Come on, give me what I want.” He slaps your clit roughly, spitting at your entrance before plunging in, nosing at your rim harshly as he struggles to breathe out of his nostrils. He grumbles between choked breaths, tongue working in and out of your hole with precise thrusts. Each rub to you rim, stroke against your clit, and incessant roll of his tongue inside of you shoots straight through your legs, ready to collapse if not for his arms keeping you held in place.
“Je—I—“ your eyes roll back, grateful that he can’t see the wash of pleasure pouring down your face. Turned putty under his ministrations as you clamp around his tongue shamefully, scratching down the stall in a weak attempt to get away.
Jeno drags out only to lick up the trickle that managed to escape his mouth, lapping your inner thighs clean with a deep moan. Each swipe of his tongue raises your humiliation up higher, hissing and jerking away when he reaches the cut along your knee.
“What is this?” He grips a hold around your calve, forcing you to balance on one leg to get an up close look and inspect how deep the wound goes. “When did you do this?”
“Don’t know, think when I ran down the stairs to meet you this morning the stair bannister skimmed my leg..”
He grunts displeased, setting your foot down to stand and kick open the door. “Come here.”
Jeno motions to the sinks, dropping both of your backpacks down next to you on the counter. “Does it hurt?”
He examines your knee closer, propping your foot to rest along the sink ledge, tongue poked between his teeth.
“Why do you care?” You ask with a scowl, reassigning your attention to the bathroom floor when Jeno slowly blinks at you and reaches to open his backpack.
“Is that a serious question?”
“Whatever.”
He nods, huffing an amused sound under his breath as he grabs a pack of sanitation wipes. “This may sting but I’d rather you not get some infection, especially after scratching at it.”
He proceeds to lightly dab the wound, drawing a hiss between your teeth despite how gentle he’s trying to be.
“You don’t have to do that,” you bite, leg jerking in his hold. “I won’t pick at it anymore.”
“Sure.” Pink lips purse together, delicately blowing over the area. “I don’t have much, but I’ll cover it up with some gauze when we get home later.”
Home.
Jeno speaks as if you live together, and you may as well at this point. Ripping a bandage open with his teeth, his eyes thin to place the non-sticky white where your flesh appears most harmed. “You’re mine now, I expect you to be more careful than this with your body.”
Squeezing up your calve, his thin digits dig through the meat of your muscle, trapping your bouncing gaze. “Maybe it’s best you move out of that shit hole you live in. That areas not well fit for a young girl to live alone there.”
“I can’t afford to move..”
Jeno’s lips gingerly land atop the bandaid, puckering to press a kiss. “I’ll figure something out.”
“You’re being weird.” You whisper, turning away from the sight of his pouty mouth continuing to layer kisses over your wound as if to heal you faster.
“It’s okay.” He draws your foot off the counter, taking a hold of your thighs to make space for himself to stand closer between. “It’s okay to accept it.”
Jeno’s eyes appear black as night, empty of any genuine thought or emotion, but even then your chest aches at the flicker of hope when he looks at you. It’s different, nothing you’ve experienced from anyone else. He looks at you like you’re..
“Special.” He whispers, pinching your chin as he leans in closer and his palm smooths over the covered wound. “Does it hurt?”
“..Would you hurt me?” Your lips move faster than you mind can register, asking yourself the question over and over again without realizing you’ve said it outloud.
Jeno blinks slowly, taking in your nervous expression. Opening up his palm, he moves to cup your chin and keep your face visible as you try to hide away, slowly inching forward to connect your mouth to his.
The bell rings right before your lips can meet, dislodging the breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding. It’s easy to break from your thoughts and push yourself off from the sink, scoot around him fast with the excuse of being late. “My scholarship.” You constantly remind him, receiving nothing more than a roll of his eyes in return.
“Yeah yeah,” he trails after you out of the bathroom, voice low and threatening. “I’m holding you to what you said for later, don’t forget.”
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･
Jeno met Haechan the first day of Freshman year of high school.
Excited to show off a new pair of shoes with wheels attached on the soles, he rolled through the hallways to his first class. That’s when he noticed an on-slaught of senior girls running by in their short cheerleading uniforms. Giggling and waving as they jogged by him cackling from behind their hands- ‘hey freshie’.
All too distracted with a goofy smile on his face, he missed the shorter boy wandering ahead of him lost. An unfortunate collision caused their foreheads to bump hard enough for a bruise to show up on both of them by lunch.
Haechan hissed, crashing flat on his bottom painfully; Jeno quickly apologized and helped him up. Little did he know they’d become great friends from that day forward.
Jeno’s not jealous of Haechan, not necessarily. He admires how giving his friend can be, really. If Jeno ever forgets to grab his packed lunch, Haechan will always offer to share. He’s always sure to invite Jeno over to play games whenever his dad purchases the latest gaming console. He’d even go as far as lending Jeno the shirt off his back if needed.
‘What are friends for if not to have you back in any situation?’ That’s what Haechan would say whenever Jeno felt rendered speechless by his friend's generosity.
The thing is, Jeno had never had a friend like Haechan. He questions if he can even call his relationships with others friendships anymore.
Unlike Haechan, Jeno had trained himself to not share. Friends had only become burdensome with time. Always asking him to play with his toys, mooching from his delicious snacks, making a big deal over the new pair of sneakers he wore that day.
They liked him because he had nice things, but they didn’t actually care about him. They cared about materialistic bullshit, about his good looks, the designer name brand clothing he’d wear.
Haechan was different from all of them. One day he opened up and shared that he’d felt homesick. Vulnerable at the time after a long tiresome day of introducing himself to groups of snobby fake stuck up people. One even pointed out a manga on his desk saying- ‘I’ve only seen weird loners read that shit’.
‘I had a friend.. back home.’ Haechan had sighed despairingly, head dropped lazily on his bed; drained by the realization that this is his new life. ‘Well.. I wanted her to be more than a friend.’
Jeno watched Haechan over the next few years. His friend changed, reformed his persona to fit in with the standard; he adapted quickly to this new lifestyle. Days of asking Jeno if he’d like some of his lunch dwindled down to nothing; seemingly only irritated that Jeno could be so forgetful of he ever asked for his leftovers.
Things had only become more tense with time. Haechan had grown competitive with everyone. He craved to be the ‘it’ boy around school. It never phased Jeno, not really, he learned to accept the change in his friend.
Then came the day Haechan decided that Jeno was his competition.
“Jeno, don’t you think this Cartier bracelet would look so cute on my wrist?” Sinclair waved her phone in his face. Wrist waggling out toward him, suggesting with her flirty batting eyelashes that he buy it for her; she had been on his ass for months dropping hints. “Perhaps you could finally ask me out with a gesture such as this?”
“He can’t afford that.” Haechan rolls his eyes letting out a breathy scoff by her side.
“Of course he can, nothing a swipe of your dad’s Amex can’t cover. He won’t even notice it on the monthly statement.” Sinclair goes on.
“His dad’s broke.” Haechan corrects her abruptly, glancing quickly toward Jeno’s burning glare. “I mean, uh... don’t repeat that.”
Haechan snatches her phone, waving off that he’d buy it for her when he takes her out come Friday.
All it took was some stupid girl Jeno could give a fuck about for Haechan to let him down for the last time. It bothered him for months, imagining the various ways he could split his ‘friends’ skull open.
“I won’t mention it again dude. It was a mistake, alright?” Haechan whispers standing near his locker after Jeno had resorted to the silent treatment for the rest of the week. “Listen, I’m sure she’s already forgotten. I’ll just take her to some overpriced restaurant and tell her I made that up because I was high or whatever.”
“You promised me you wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“Promises are for children Jeno, I forgot alright? I’m allowed to make a mistake.” Haechan showed no remorse. Proving his promises to be empty, backed by no integrity, lacking worth and value. Jeno knew deep down Haechan only continued to befriend him out of guilt, he knew their relationship boiled down to nothing for the other at the end of the day.
He knew he had to do something about it, but he couldn't. He had to wait for the perfect timing. He had to leave Haechan defenseless. He needed to ensure no way for his father to find out of his plan. Leave Haechan with no way to snitch and rat him out, a threat strong enough to hold over his friend's head.
The day you came along everything fell into place. Jeno knew as he watched Haechan’s head lay on your shoulder from behind a bookshelf in the library, you clearly meant something to him. None of it made sense at first. Why would Haechan care about you of all people?
“Remember that girl you mentioned from back home?” Jeno decides to casually bring up the story he’d hardly cared about or paid attention to while gaming. His friend's throat cleared on the opposite end from behind his computer screen.
“Yeah, what about her?” Haechan says, continuing to mumble curses as he goes on playing.
“Whatever happened to her? Did you two keep in touch at all?” Jeno asks, cursing at the screen to seem casually interested.
“Uhhh,” Haechan swallows, shrugging. “Honestly, don’t know.”
Liar.
Jeno’s teeth grit, holding back a laugh. “That’s too bad, you two were really close, I remember how tore up you were back then when you had first moved. Took you a while to get over it.”
“Man, that was so long ago.” Haechan waves off. “I was a kid.”
Raising a finger to silence their conversation, Haechan pauses the game, picking up his phone after the first ring. “Hey baby, nah I’m just with Jeno, yeah the usual.” Haechan proceeded to ignore him, the old friend he once cherished long gone now.
Just like you.
There are times you want to ask ‘Why me? Why me of all people? Out of all the girls withering away for a mere blink from Jeno in their directions, what the fuck made me matter.’
The unplanned vow of silence you’ve committed to halts those times your tongue itches to lash at him, and you listen, you listen well, very well. It’s to your detriment really, because Jeno adores that you listen, he loves the implication of the power he constricts you with behind your binded lips.
It’s also to his detriment that— for lack of better words, Jeno isn’t the brightest. Maybe he doesn’t want to come off too intelligent, you contemplate as he gushes on about his lost friendship; his favorite topic other than you really.
Haechan.
Jeno’s obsessed with Haechan, at least he’s obsessed with the fact that Haechan won. Between his foul rehashing of times his alleged best friend made him feel futile, it’s easy to decipher why it had to be you.
Not to make Haechan jealous, no. Haechan could give a fuck about you.
Jeno sees the precious memories of his former friend that he lost in you. The glint in his iris sparkles, satisfied by your raptured gaze as he wraps up his story.
“That’s why you’re so perfect.” He says proudly, capturing his bottom lip between index finger and thumb, massaging it while a hum rises up his throat. “Had to be you. You’re the answer I’ve been waiting for.”
The answer. What the fuck does that even mean, you squint, blinking it away fast. Jeno beams, pulling you closer to him with his arm snaking around your waist. “I like when you do that, makes me wonder what’s going on in that brain of yours. Something devious I’m sure.”
Carrying your bag, he hooks an arm over your shoulder, drawing you close as you venture to your next class together. “Hey.”
Maneuvering you around to face him, he stops at the classroom door, grabbing the attention of numerous students as he blocks the entrance making an awkward scene for you. “What are yo—“
“I love you.” Jeno announces loud and clear, receiving a round of gasps and an uproar of whispers. He smiles, cheeks lined with wrinkles, eyebrows raised as he waits.
“Wha—…” breaking off, you peer around quickly, sweat pouring down your back out of fear. Anger and an oncoming storm raging through your gut. “What.”
He lets out a chuckle, sighing as he hugs your back to his chest and proceeds to make way to your seats, further boiling the heat building up your chest. “My sweet sweet Teddy.”
“What the hell is wrong with you!” You hiss, throwing your shoulder into his chest to continue to your seat under the eyes of the entirety of your class. Rounds of whispers sing around you, the usual confusion you’ve become accustomed to laced between every shared word.
He sits by your side, arm back around you in no time with a large smile, nodding and peering around the room to affirm that he meant what he just said.
Every cell in your body wants to explode, throw Jeno down onto the ground and crush his face under your foot. The squeeze around your shoulder curls you in further, wishing to be anywhere but here.
“Cold?” He asks, knowing that you aren’t, it’s a mere excuse to wrap himself around you more. His nose nuzzles against your hair, taking a deep inhale with a suffocating possessive hug wrapped tightly you. “Can’t have my Teddy get sick.”
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･
“Teddy.”
It’s shrill, nausea inducing, the way Jeno’s grown fond of this nickname for you.
The way he smiles and peers at you with some sick adoration as he calls you his teddy bear again.
While you feel trapped and disgusted, everyone else seems confused, peeved, and to be gossiping about the two of you.
Haechan’s girlfriend sports an ugly sneer when you walk by wrapped under one of Jeno’s arms; snapping the pencil in her hand into a broken half as he sets a kiss on your forehead, smirking at the round of gasps your schoolmates let out throughout the hallway.
“They’re all so jealous of you.”
They are jealous of you, watchful eyes speak volumes following your conjoined figures heading toward the parking lot.
Jeno has successfully transferred into nearly all of your classes, he picks you up and drops you off. Blows up your phone with texts and calls the second you’re apart. He doesn’t ask for updates or proof of what you’re doing, he demands it. Threats fall empty now, you don’t have much to say, he does the talking.
You listen.
“Our assignments are due next week.” He mutters, pulling away from the school in an opposite direction from where you live.
Our. Mine. His.
Nothing is yours anymore, Jeno made sure of that.
“I have to be home soon..”
“Oh yeah?” He lets out a breathy laugh, drumming the steering wheel while sat at a red light. “Last I checked you only have to be with me, your parents only call to check in on you once a week. They don’t have to know your location at all times teddy.”
Oh but he has to know. He knows everything about you, every excuse and lie you can concoct shot down by weeks of evidence collected while studying you from afar. Far enough for you to never catch on, too clueless because of your own insecurities to ever fathom that someone like Jeno could be obsessed with you.
“Besides, today is a special day.” He exclaims, driving into a gated community full of large three story houses resembling suburban mansions.
“How could you forget?” Jeno parks, moving to unbuckle your seatbelt. He sighs, pinching your chin to look at him. “It’s our one month.”
He pouts, bottom lip jutted out while blinking dumb and slow.
Sometimes you think that Jeno’s cute, and that makes you hate yourself more than anything. All you can do is avert your gaze, pretend he has no affect on you, keep up an act that he’s emptied you of any possible emotion; because he wants to destroy you. He wants you to feel helpless, wants you to rely on him because you have nothing else.
He’s pushing you inside of the house, digging into your knees from behind with his, built arms tightly wrapped around your waist. Suffocating you, that’s what he does, coating you in his scent, sucking out your energy throughout the duration of each day with the metaphoric needles he prickles you with. Every word that drips from his tongue feels like acid poured onto your flesh, burning through the layers to melt you deep inside until the pain goes numb.
His families house is enormous, spread out and fully furnished. Luxurious like some 5 star hotel, which Jeno hasn’t let you forget is only thanks to Haechan’s father for saving their ass.
‘My dad can’t afford this place anymore. The bank owns our house by now, but he’ll do anything to keep up appearances.’
That’s what he mentioned during lunch one day, ranting about how he can’t stand the way everyone ‘keeps up appearances’ around here; snickering disdainfully toward the table his former best friend sat at.
‘Especially him. Fake asshole.’
Jeno stops you in front of his bedroom door standing by itself in the hallway he’s led you through.
A dark empty hallway, away from all of the other bedrooms. Ominous and cold.
“You know the way, open the door teddy.”
Of course you know, it may as well be your bedroom at this point.
“I have a surprise for you.”
Jeno’s palms cover your eyes when you reach for the door handle, stiffening your spine as his chest knocks against your back to make you step further inside.
Inside of his bedroom it’s dimly lit, a chilled temperature; the air cools down your throat with every breath you take.
“Do you like it?” He’s smiling against the shell of your ear, whispering softly. Revealing with the drop of his hands a giant plushie sat on his bed against the corner; a human size teddy bear.
He knows you don’t like it, even the question sounds like a dare; a dare for you to say that you don’t like it, that you don’t like any of this.
You especially don’t like Jeno, or the way his palms brush down your arms, shifting to your waist to gather your top up. Bunching at your stomach as he begins to remove it from your body.
“There's more, Teddy.”
Of course there’s more.
The tips of his fingers slowly trail between your breasts, throwing your top off with ease because you don’t struggle. You let him take off your clothes whenever he wants.
Most times he doesn’t touch you much, but he counts, he memorizes. He traces over indentations from teeth buried into your skin and faded bruises left behind after fucking you roughly. He makes sure there are no others, only Jeno can mark you, only Jeno can see you like this.
He takes time discarding your bottoms, unbuttoning slowly, pushing the material down your hips even slower. Squatting down to his knees to pepper faint kisses on your hips and thighs as more your flesh comes to light; finishing off with a peck on your forehead when he stands and motions toward the plushie.
“Don’t you want the rest of your gift?”
You nod, just barely, taking a step toward the bed. Met with a hand clasped on your shoulder and a ‘nu-uh-uh Teddy’.
Jeno smirks, pushing on your shoulder. “On your knees.”
On your knees like the pet you’ve become. Crawling with your palms flattened onto the bed. Heating up knowing he’s behind you watching your underwear ride up your ass. It’s less humiliating now, he’s made you do worse.
A small black box sits between the teddy bear's legs, adorned with a glittery red bow.
“Open it.”
Hesitantly you pull apart the lid, pursing your mouth shut at the piece of jewelry inside.
A choker, a solid black thin choker you will no doubt have to wear around your neck everyday now. A choker with a teddy bear charm punctured in place through a small metal ring.
“Ah, I can tell you love it already.” He chuckles, ripping the box from your hold. Shoving your hair away to lean close and lock the clasp around the back of your neck. Grazing the edge of his nose on your jaw and cheek as he does, a silent reminder that you are his, and he will do whatever he pleases with you.
Jeno has a sardonic smirk stretching his lips as he takes you in, fingering the charm dangling just beneath your throat.
“My teddy bear.”
Tips of cold fingers trace your neck, following the pulse passing through your veins, it’s all just to push your buttons. Jeno wants a reaction, he craves your pitiful stares and miserable moans, he needs your pain to feel something.
You won’t give him that satisfaction, not anymore.
He sighs, pushing your shoulder to nudge you in the direction of the large plush. “Don’t think I’m letting you off easily for forgetting our special day either.”
God. How could he possibly care enough about you to count down the days you’ve been ‘together’ or whatever he considers this. “Now, show me how much you love your gift.” He says with a wink, tapping your ass and nudging his chin to the teddy bear laid between his pillows.
This has to be some sick kink of his, and it’s impossible to forget what he made you do in that abandoned classroom a month ago..
“Just like last time.” He hums, moving onto the bed with his knees. “I know you remember.”
It’s not necessarily watching you grind against a toy that ripples blood through his veins faster, filling up his cock until it weighs heavy and hot between his thighs; but the saddened broken image before him, with your gaze lowered in shame as you mount the plush and grit your teeth. It’s the shattered feeble look of defeat that fills his chest with warmth more than anything. “That’s it.”
Reaching to smooth up your spine, he pushes at the backs of your shoulders, shifting closer to sit behind you on his knees. “Wanna see you ride it up close.”
He works to guide your hips down onto the bears stomach, pushing hard until your core meets the soft material and you let out a shameful whimper. Biting down on his lip as he slaps your thigh, squeezing up your butt to your waist with instruction to move.
It’s vile, rolling your hips down at his command, growing short of breath as the friction builds up between your legs and his strong hands manipulate your movements. Tears spring past the corners of your eyes the faster he makes you move up and down, grinding your core along the life-size plushie full of humiliation and fear.
“Your ass looks so fucking good.” He groans deeply behind you, rubbing down your back to cup your buttcheeks in a squeeze. Gripping and kneading, parting you open to watch your rim flutter against your panties with each pathetic hump against the teddy bear. “I know I couldn’t be your first time teddy..”
He leans in, chin resting on your shoulder to halt your movements as he dips in past the cleft of your ass to find your hole. “But I’ll be the first to fuck your ass.”
The gasp you try to keep mute still reaches his ears, softly chuckling against you as he adjusts and slides your underwear to one side. “Consider it your gift to me for forgetting our special day.”
Some special fucking day..
“You’re so wet already, doubt I’ll even have to prep you.” Jeno whispers, nudging the tip of his thumb against your rim. “Looks really tight, what do you think? Should I be nice and stretch you open first?”
“Please..p-please, I’ve never..”
“Shh shh, don’t worry, I believe you.” He chuckles softly, pressing the blunt tip of his length against your entrance. “With how tight that pussy is, I know you’ve never let anyone inside your ass. It’ll be a special memory only for us..”
Is it special? The tingle building in your stomach seems to agree, relaxing against the plushy to arch your butt out more. It has to be a Pavlovian response by now, conditioned to seek this pleasure Jeno provides you. Even if you hate accepting it. It’s not your fault that your body's natural response is to crave his touch, and spread your legs wider for it.
“I’ll be nice.” There’s amusement in the way he says it, like he doesn’t believe himself either. Slapping the mass of his cock down between the dip in your ass, cursing through clenched teeth. “You may not show it, but your cunt never lies.”
The bulbous tip swipes down, pressing against your clit, pushing your knees to slide open an inch more. It’s all taunting and teasing, running the fat cockhead between your chubbed folds, dipping it into your entrance just to watch you squirm and rut back for more. “Greedy pussy, acting like I don’t fuck you enough.”
He mumbles, smacking the underside of his length between your thighs. The wet clap stinging under the weight of his heavy size beating down on your swollen core. “J-Jeno..”
“Something wrong teddy?” He tuts, hips rolling up, gripping your buttcheeks to sandwich around his length. “You sound.. impatient.”
He gulps, trapping his cock under his thumbs to fuck between your buttcheeks faster. Wet tip prodding out, spilling precum down making the glide even easier. Each thrust passing over your pussy hole and rim makes your thighs tremble, burying your face deeper into the teddy bears neck. “Mmmph..”
“I know it hurts you Teddy..” Jeno’s words rasp against the back of your neck. Bending forward to paint your warm flesh with a coat of moisture. Sweat, raw sex and saliva combine, sticking your skin and his mouth together like hot glue. “Why do you have to be so good at taking it though? Huh?”
Breath fans your upper back, the drag of his tongue races across your shoulders to bite down a groan on one. Notable effort to make you squirm and scream becomes more prevalent with each smack of his hips against your ass, grunting deeper the more he exerts. “It’s because you like me, right?” He asks between the sound of a struggled laugh, gasping with another slide of his thick length passing between your thighs. “You’re drenching me sweetheart, making a fucking mess of my sheets. You know what I’m gonna have to do later?”
He’s silent for a few seconds, panting heavily as his tongue trails to lick the column of your throat. The glide of his cock between your thighs is disgustingly loud, squishing and splashing in volumized echoes around his bedroom. “Your lack of response is becoming predictable, you know.”
His lower half snaps, protruding hip bones beat against your backside. A gut crunching sensation curls up your chest, unable to deny the slick gush continuously leaking out of you and coating your ass and thighs the more frantic his motions become. “Can’t wash these sheets again, need to savor it. Remind you of how much you enjoyed it. How you finally gave in and accepted this fate.”
“N-no..”
“What was that?” Jeno asks breathlessly, gripping the base of his girth to position the tip against your rim. “You want more, don’t you?”
He presses in, watching his wet slit disappear past your asshole. “Ahh, no!! S-stop!”
He snickers, angling the tip to stretch your tight ring of muscle. “Relax. It’s going to hurt a lot if you don’t relax.”
“Please..go slow..” you sigh, biting on the plushy when he nudges more.
“Be calm teddy. You want this?” He drags the sharp edges of his well-filed nails down your ass painfully, surely leaving marks behind. “Want my face shoved in your ass, huh? That’s why you’re whining so much.”
Jeno always has a way of speaking to you during these intimate moments. So cold and uncaring. The icy tone breaking your skin out in goosebumps. Even with your mouth sucking around the teddy bears arm, you whimper, the urge to cry spiking as he removes your panties and lands a sharp strike down on your ass.
“Bent over all pretty for me teddy, you arch that butt out like such a good little slut.” His palm smooths down lower, patting your wet folds to make you listen to how wet you are from this alone. “Who knows, after this I might not even bother with your pussy anymore. Have my own brand new unused hole to fuck now.”
He teases, swiping your clit side to side, dragging the tips of your fingers between your cunt to prod at your entrance. “You’re so wet, I love how fucking wet you get.”
A shaky breath leaves your lips as he twists two fingers inside and buries in knuckle deep, pressing his thumb to your asshole. “Such a perfect slut for me, ready to be my anal whore.” Jeno pulls out and lands a slap down on your rim, hard enough for the sound to clap out around his bedroom. Your hips drop from the sudden impact, biting down a scream into the plushy. “Enough of that, I wanna hear you.”
Wrapping around your waist, he manhandles you easily onto the center of his bed. Laid down on your back softly for him to get a good look at you, for you to finally see him. He’s big, broad, looming over you in the dim light illuminating from the corner of his room. The strokes of yellow paint across his chest and muscle, the darkness pronouncing deep indentations of muscle lining his abdomen and arms. Jeno falls forward, catching himself above you with his biceps bracketing your head, smiling as he leans in to kiss the fresh tears lining your cheeks.
“As much as I wanna bend you over and fuck your ass like there’s no tomorrow.. “ he slows to kiss up from your chin to where droplets have pooled under the hollows of your eyes. Sucking up and kissing the wetness there, enjoying it more than you’d be able to comprehend. “Nothings better than watching your face when I fuck every inch of my cock inside..”
The pure joy glaring back at you from his dark glass irises rains more tears down your face, sniffling and shaking as he licks them clean and squishes your lips out. “Relax sweetheart, it’ll feel good for both of us. Promise.”
Thin digits run down from your jawline, tracing past your neck and over the mounds of your breasts. Jeno adjusts your position to haul one of your thighs up, using his shoulder to keep your knee pressed against the bed. He makes a show of bringing his hand up to his mouth, sucking around three fingers, dragging his sloppy wet tongue between each with laser focused eyes locked on yours.
“You’re so good for me teddy, gonna let me use that pretty ass..” the way he holds you open exposes both of your holes, hovering past your swollen wet cunt to press two fingers against the clench of your asshole. “Just one baby..”
He presses the tip of one slicked up digit in, breaching the tight little muscle until you whine desperately. “Feels so warm..” Jeno’s eyes flutter, thick black eyelashes still visible in the low light. He sounds throaty, hungry, exasperated and needy. Quietly muttering to himself about how good your tight hole feels as he begins to pull his finger in and out slowly. “Bet your pussy was even tighter than this when you were still a virgin.”
His voice comes out a lot more harsh, gravelly, guiding another finger in with the next stroke. They scissor through and flutter against your inner walls, tugging lightly at your rim as he dips out to the just the tips. “You’re opening up great for me sweetheart. Do you see how you always listen so good?”
Jeno sits on his knees like a predator catching his prey after a long meticulous hunt. Prodding another tip past your rim alongside the two, the muscles lining his arm rippling, exerting more strength to not push them in all at once. “Tell me teddy, are you desperate enough for me to even let me claim your ass?”
Your throat dries, pursing your lips together to quell the moan that nearly spills out. It’s a new type of full, sneaking peeks at the veins running down his inner forearm leading to the fingers working you open. A wash of shame and heat streaks down your limbs, shivering when Jeno draws his digits free, dangling them above your ass.
“I know you are.” He lands another slap between your thighs, making your extended leg jerk. Fixing his angle to line the tip of his cock with your rim, the large blunt tip presses down, having to tuck your lips in to not scream. “..but I want to hear you say it.”
The head of his cock nudges in, pulling a gasp from your chest. Jeno bends closer to grab your jaw, shake your head around until you look at him. “Tell me to fuck your ass.”
“I’m—“ your voice sounds unrecognizable, squeaking out brokenly, overpowering the one you’re used to. “I—‘wan—“
Bending in closer, the pull up your hamstring burns, further pushing your leg against the bed. He pushes in another inch, the bulbous tip nearly fully entering, skin stretched taut around him. “You can do it, I know you can do it. Tell me sweetheart.”
“F-fuck—“ you pause, the last bits of your mind slipping away to another dimension. “Fuck m-my ass, please—fuck my a-ass.”
A sick pleased smile lifts the corners of his lips, bumping the tip of his nose to yours. Jeno doesn’t fuck the rest of his length in immediately the way you expect, slowly pushing each inch to savor the snap around his shaft.
It’s when his hips bump against the backs of your thighs that you finally take in a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. Panting out heavily and wide eyed when you can feel the entirety of his cock fully sheathed inside of you.
It’s when Jeno begins to pull out that you bite down to keep in a scream, lifting up on his forearms caged around your head to watch his length draw free. It feels like he’s splitting you in two and he hasn’t even really gotten into it yet. It goes on like that for a minute or two, his head hung, black hair in your face, awestruck by your rim sucking around his dick each time he pulls out to the tip. He gains speed slowly, snapping his hips forward for the first time. Jolting your spine to arch up and finally release a tiny scream you can’t hold in any longer.
“Pussys making such a mess teddy..” Jeno rasps, throwing his head back, pink lips hung open. “Fuck, you’re dripping down to my balls. Love getting fucked up the ass.”
Every thought racing through your mind dissolves, blank and empty as you crane your neck to the side to get a look at what he’s going on about. Embarrassment flushes down your face, unconsciously clamping down on his length plunging in faster. The powerful snap of his hips rocking you deep into his bed, surrounded by Jeno Jeno Jeno. His smell, his touch, his mouth and his meaty girth stretching you open. It’s become something you expect, something you’d feel weird without now, Jeno.
It burns when he buries in deep, grabbing onto the back of your knee for better control. The stretch feels more and more overwhelming with each pass of his cock manipulating your tight ring of muscle further. Digging his knees steadily into the bed, he picks up the pace and kicks his hips forward to fuck in to the hilt.
“Love fucking your ass. Love fucking you.” Jeno’s eyes clench shut, blinking quickly to open them and shove his forehead against yours. “Love you.”
God it makes your stomach churn, half pulled into a pleasure that feels too good to be true; sickened by how good it feels to be impaled by his fat cock. Half suffocated by the rushing swarm of emotions lassoing your brain, tightening until you feel ready to burst. And Jeno again with the fucking L word, dropping it like nothing, making sure you feel each syllable through his girth splitting you open.
The push and pull against your clenching rim feels painful, feels good, makes your head spin. He eats it up, licking across your lips, trapping the bottom between his teeth to suck on. Nose dragging down your cheek, lapping the tears, sweat and spit painting your face. It should feel disgusting, you should feel repulsed, but this behaviors become so standard now. Jeno’s like a puppy sometimes, burying his face in your neck, searching for a place to lay new kisses.
Even during these times when he’s on top of you, pushing his cock in deep enough to bruise your cervix, your fingers itch to touch him. He usually does it for you, grabs your wrists and forces your hands to drag down his face, kissing the inside of your palms and wrists.
He seems more intent on kissing you right now, letting ragged breaths fans across your lips between light pecks. “Can you cum like this?” He asks, murmuring against your mouth.
“I—I d-don’t know..” you really don’t. It’s your first time and the pleasures surging all over in different directions, racing between pain and confusion back to arousal and need.
“You can.” Jeno whispers, lowering his face to your neck, gaze focused on your connected lower halves. “You’re so wet.”
Fingers trail down your stomach, softly skimming over your clit before easing between your folds. He sinks two inside, thumb rubbing your clit in a simultaneous motion, filling you from both ends. “Ugh! Yeah just like that sweetheart..”
Jeno snaps forward, trying to match the rhythm of his hips to his fingers. He bites down on your jugular, panting heavily against your throat. The burn of the stretch crashes against waves of pleasure, twitching up with each rough rub at your clit.
“I’m—I’m c-cumm—“ the sob you break off into has him moving faster akin to a feral animal. The weight of his bulky frame lands down on you hard enough to make his bed shake, headboard slam against the wall. Each brush of his thumb at your clit feels more sensitive than the last, sending you over the edge, mind blank beyond the grip your ass has around his cock. “Ahh!”
The wetness spilling out past his fingers slides all the way down to your lower back, further solidifying your humiliation. Because he’s right, you are wet just from this, loving your ass stuffed full. Drowning in the sensation of his length ramming in and out.
“Squeeze that fuckhole around me so good teddy, cum cum—“ Jeno chants manically, throwing his hips down rough and fast. Pressing down your clit harshly between viscous flicks, rolling the stiff nub until your toes curl.
You spill over quickly, writhing under his weight as the pressure of wetness pushes his fingers out of your cunt. The orgasm rolls through you like no other, rolling your eyes to the back of your skull. Thinking you’ve passed off into the afterlife if not for the way he draws back and pounds into your ass.
“You like it?!” Jeno’s expression morphs into one of anger, black eyebrows furrowed together. He grabs your face again, chasing after his release still slamming his cock in deep. “You like getting fucked up the ass?”
The questions pointed, furious. The face of frustration and anger only there to mask how close he is to falling apart, reaching a new high as he charges to the peak.
“L-love it, yes..” you barely whisper, tear filled eyes blinking the moisture away to watch his features contort and crumble. His pace turns erratic, breath quickening fast enough for his chest to beat up and down. Letting out a deep growl, Jeno comes to a still, mouth hung open letting a chopped up groan roll off his tongue. His cock thrums wildly against your inner walls, flooding your ass with warm white cum you’ve had poured inside of your cunt for weeks.
The little sounds dripping from his lips sounds anguished, whimpering when he thrusts in one more time to ensure his cums evenly painted your insides. “Love you so much..”
His eyes fall shut, nose dug into your cheek catching his breath. The tips of your fingers tingle again, itching and burning to comb through his soft dark locks, to smooth the sweaty strands off his forehead. It feels like the right thing to do.. maybe with anyone else.
But you want it to feel right with Jeno..
He grumbles, littering kisses down your cheek to the corner of your mouth. “Gonna pull out, okay?”
You don’t respond, not even a nod, only hissing through your teeth as you gape and the now cooled down semen trickles out of your ass disgustingly, really cementing what you’ve just done. What you’ve let him do to you again.
Jeno hums softly, laying by your side without a worry, seeming pleased and full of life judging by the small smile on his face. “Happy anniversary teddy.” He reaches for your hand, scrabbling to entwine your fingers when you try to pull away.
“What’re you thinking about?” He murmurs, shifting closer to your side as you curl into yourself to get further away. “I don’t even have to ask. I’m sure I can throw out a wild guess..”
He lets out a long sigh, huffing a quiet laugh. “You’re not as good at masking your emotions as you may think.. You have to erase those old memories you have of Haechan. He’s not a good guy.” Jeno remarks, nudging his elbow against your side. “He’s a bad person.”
“You are no better..” You accuse, a bit surprised, whispering with your mouth pressed against his bed. The last person you’re thinking about right now is Haechan(..maybe). Jeno’s smile only grows wider, tickled to hear you talking back finally.
“There’s a difference between me and him.” He says surely, slinging an arm around your waist, hooking his chin over your shoulder as he presses in close to whisper. “He changed to please everyone. I just don’t care anymore.”
“You’re both terrible people..”
Jeno sighs, smile still evident in his tone, leaning closer kissing your ear. “I love you.”
“Stop saying that.” You mutter, digging your elbow back to push space between you.
“Why would I do that?” Smoothing your arm down, he kisses the end of your jaw, licking your earlobe. “I love you, I know you won’t say it back, but that won’t stop me from letting you know that I love you.” He cozies up against you, yawning. “Get some rest, we have that test to pass tomorrow.”
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･
Jeno has that look on his face again, the one that shifts from raunchy to feral hunger, the one that has him reaching to grab you in less than a second.
“I’m still sore..”
“I barely even touched your pussy.” He says cocking an eyebrow, phone dinging in his pocket over and over again. “Was I too mean teddy?” His palm swipes down the curve of your ass, cupping your buttcheek.
Ding. Ding. Ding.
He groans, smacking your butt lightly before reaching to free his phone.
“Shit, my dad’s blowing up my phone.” He huffs annoyed, swiping through paragraphs of text messages. Most yelling at him in all caps lock for not answering his phone. “He needs me to pick up some files from his home office, says it’s urgent. Something about an accident..”
Frustrated, he hoists his bag and adjusts yours on his other arm, nodding toward the end of the hall. “Come on.”
“Jeno, the test—I can’t!”
He sets you with a look that nearly makes you crumble, ready to succumb and follow his orders. “Please, you know my grades..”
Dragging the tip of his tongue between his teeth, he sighs deep and loud, pinching the skin between his eyebrows together. “Fine.”
What?
He looks irritated, upper lip twitching stretched over his teeth trying to control his anger. “But I’ll try to come back later to pick you up. If you take longer than a minute to reply to me, I swear to fucking God—“
“I won’t!” You almost add a ‘thank you’, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself. “I’ll keep my phone within view shot in case of anything..”
Jeno rubs at his temples, shoulders visibly trembling. “Fuck. Whatever. Fine.”
He stops to take in your elated expression, cupping your cheeks, thumbs caressing your soft skin. “Don’t forget, I love you.”
You won’t say it back, he knows you won’t, but he waits for a minute, a flicker of hope passing behind his gaze. “Good luck on your test, I know you don’t need it teddy.”
He leans in and kisses you, full control on his end. Making a real show of it by shoving his tongue down your throat right in the middle of the hallway where everyone watches and whispers nasty remarks. He wants them to see, he wants certain people to see especially. Public display of affection had never been something you enjoyed, or even experienced before Jeno, but he made it something you had to learn to endure.
“Be good.” He says quietly, warningly, slipping your bag from his shoulder. “I’ll see you soon.”
You nearly risk being late to class just to watch him leave, having to run to make it on time. The first time you’ve been alone in days, weeks even. Sitting down at your desk with a sense of relief, a crippling weight lifted off your spine. This test would be a breeze without him there to breath down your neck.
It is really crazy how you turn to the empty seat next to you numerous times though, fully expecting to see him there waiting for the next answer. Finishing off your exam without handing it over to Jeno to ensure he copied all of your answers felt odd, peering at your phone over and over again expecting notifications only to have none.
So. This is life without him. Normal? Not anxiety inducing? Nothing to fear or worry about..
You should know better though, exiting your class blindsided by Haechan leaping in front of you, hooking his arm around yours. “You. In here. NOW.”
“Haechan?! What the hell!” You cough, waving at dust that lifts from the janitor closet floor. Cleaning supplies and clutter surround you, setting in how claustrophobic you feel when he slams the door shut and locks it.
“We need to talk. Right now.”
“About what?!” Pushing him off, you stumble back and glare. Watching his face fall at the sight of your anger.
“About this.” He says, reaching for the charm adorning your neck, flicking the teddy bear. “What’s this bullshit all about? What are you dating Jeno now?? What the fuck is wrong with the two of you.”
“The two of us?! There’s nothing wrong with me?! It’s your fault any of this is even happening to me!” You screech, slapping his hand away.
“My fault?! You low lives are threatening to ruin my future and it’s somehow MY fault??” Haechan bellows, grabbing your upper arms.
“Low lives?”
He scoffs, shaking you with his firm hold. “Don’t change the subject! What the fuck if your problem, huh? Are you making him do this? You two need money that badly?”
Haechan could have just asked about your relationship with Jeno if he really cared. He would have noticed how different you’ve been looking and acting if he really ever cared about you.
“Everything’s about money to you..” you mutter, gaze hanging low.
“To me?! I’m the one being threatened here!” He says in disbelief, burning holes into your face with a crazed look. “I don’t need any money from you or him.”
No. You don’t need anything, do you? Everything’s about you. You you you you…
Jeno was right all along.
“You seriously think I want your fucking money Haechan?!?” You shout, breaking out of his hold to shove him back. “What about me, asshole?!? Do you even give a shit about me! No, you don’t! Because I embarrass you that much, huh?”
“What are you even going on about.” Rolling his eyes, he grabs your wrists before you can pummel him with your fists, teeth gritted. “Of course I give a shit about you, why do you think I’m here?! He’s always hovering around you! It’s impossible to get near you anymore.”
“You’re only here because you think I’m weak.”
“Weak?” Haechan repeats, tossing your arms down. “He’s really brainwashed you, yeah? Made you believe I’m the bad guy here? I’m not the one money hungry enough to destroy years of friendship over some petty jealousy!”
“He hasn’t brainwashed me.” You snap back, nearly adding a lie to make yourself feel better. He doesn’t talk about Haechan that much, and he’s not that jealous..
“Oh yeah? Than what the fuck is this?” His fingers aim for your choker again, sliding the tips under to press along your pulse. “Wearing a collar like a good little bitch?”
“It’s a gift.”
Haechan’s mouth parts in surprise, cocking an eyebrow. “You really like that psychopath, I can’t believe this.”
“Fuck you.” You bite back, wrapping around his wrists. “You have no right to assume anything about me.”
“And me? What about me, huh?” He says soft and low, leaning in closer. “I thought you liked me.”
“You did?” You ask, a bit surprised. You hadn’t made it that obvious, right?
“So, you don’t?” Haechan’s gaze flickers to yours, peering between each of your eyes confused. “Ever since we were kids I thought..”
“Do you like me? Did you ever?”
“Always, I always have.” He says surely, tugging out of your grip. “Not that it matters.”
“W-Why?” You stutter, feeling heat rush to your face. “Because y-you won’t do anything about it? Because I’m nothing but a low life, right?!”
Haechan steps closer, locking you in place against him with his arms tightening around your waist. “You’re not, okay? I’m just mad about Jeno..”
You hate getting angry, because you hate to show how weak you really are, cursing at the first batch of tears that pour from your eyes. You punch at his chest, letting out a tired sob. Tired because of this, everything, tired of holding onto something you never had. “It’s all your fault. He wouldn’t even care about me if it wasn’t for you.”
“What’s my fault?! That your boyfriend’s a certified nut job??”
“This isn’t about him! He’s not my boyfriend!”
“Oh yeah?” Haechan squeezes you in, inching his face closer to yours. “So, you won’t care if I do this.”
The same lips you dreamt about for years come closer, a breath away from finding yours. He pauses to watch your reaction, eyelashes fluttering up and down expecting you to do something to get away. Because Jeno’s girlfriend wouldn’t let another guy kiss her, especially not his new enemy.
It’s nothing like your dreams when he finally goes for it, he’s not soft and nice, he doesn’t move against your mouth like he belongs there. The kiss is rough, fast, sloppy, needy and aggressive. He sees his chance and takes it, sliding his tongue in past your lips as you gasp, lowering his hands to your ass with a fierce squeeze. His dreams had been to strip your innocence, watch your fall apart and scream while he fucked you deep. Nothing like the fairytale stories you’d imagined. Each pass of his tongue against yours indicates his desire, forcing your arms out of his hold to reach for his hair, fisting it and pulling as hard as you can.
“Ahhh! Ahh! Stop!” He whines, lips already swollen.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You sneer, coiling tendrils between your digits, pulling until his neck arches back and a high-pitched squeak breaks free from his mouth.
“I knew it.” He grits, eyes thinning into a glare. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”
“Is that what this is about?! You just need to have everything Jeno has?!”
“You are the one falling for that freak.” Haechan spits, slapping your ass. “Everyone knows Jeno fucks like a fucking crazed beast, you’re not as innocent as I thought.”
“I’m not fucking him.” Technicalities..
“Yeah? And why should I believe you?” He plays with the hem of your skirt, tickling at the skin there. “You say that you like me and yet here you are holding back. I think you’re a liar, trying to protect your crazy boyfriend..”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Yeah?” Haechan steps back, leaning against a shelf full of cleaning products. Reaching below his waist to unbuckle his belt. A bulge sits beneath his zipper, slowly lowering it with his eyes on yours. “Get on your knees.”
“What!?”
He snickers, shoving his boxers and jeans down under his balls. “I said get on your knees.”
He has the audacity to wear a cocky grin, tilting his head back onto the shelf as he begins to gently stroke his cock to full mass. You have to look, have to lick your lips at the sight of his length beginning to chub up in his hold. It’s not enough to subside your anger, marching forward to slam his shoulders back against the shelf. “Who do you think you are?!”
“A guy you like.” He says, voice low, staring at your lips. “A guy who likes you.”
This certainly isn’t normal by any means, you know that, but that doesn’t stop the extra skip in your heartbeat. Doesn’t stop your eyes from trailing down Haechan’s face to where he sucks on his bottom lip, letting it go and bounce shiny with spit. “Now.” Reaching for your mouth, he slides a thumb across your lower lip, pushing down on the fatty center. “Get. On. Your. Knees.”
There’s a cruel edge to his tone, watching you crumble and slip down onto the floor, eye-level to his length. “Don’t act surprised. This is what you want.”
You don’t know what to say, watching your knees settle on the ground before looking up. He strokes at his size lazily, the tip right between your eyes. Nowhere near as big as Jeno, that’s for sure..
“You’ve always had such a pretty mouth, always used it to talk so much shit.” He smirks confidently, bringing the tip closer to your pouty lips. “What are you waiting for?”
Haechan even smells rich from down here, clean, trimmed pubes, a slight musk wafting off his sack. Jeno’s a little different, he’s always hairless, always smells clean in a soft and inviting way. You think he keeps himself extra tidy to entice you more, but maybe that’s just him. Maybe this is just Haechan..
“D-do you have protection?”
“Huh??” He says, surprised, shrugging and reaching for his wallet. “Yeah, whatever.”
He sounds a little ticked off, flicking the condom at your pressed together thighs. Not putting up an argument either way. It’s been awhile since you’ve had to use one of these, and as you unwrap the package you start to wonder why..
Clearing your throat, you nervously reach to grip around the middle of his length. It’s not as heavy in your hold, not as thick, a lot smoother with less prominent veins. The condom rolls down fine, aided by a layer of lube that will surely taste disgusting sliding down your tongue. He’s hissing above you, eyebrows scrunched together focused on your hands and robotic expression, wondering if you’re lying about everything..
“Come on.” Haechan says desperately, reaching to thumb your lip again, a lot messier and more eager. “You want my cock, don’t you?”
Leaning in, you test the feel of it, sliding the tip across your upper lip. Slowly craning your neck up to watch his face fall apart. “Say it. Wanna hear you say it.”
He grips your hair, fingers tingling through your scalp, forcing your neck back further. Plump lips hang open above you, breathily moaning, stuck on his cock dragging your lower lip open. “Say you want my cock like the pathetic fucking slut you are.”
That flicks your eyes open fully, rising from your knees quickly with a tight grasp around his size. “What did you just say to me?!”
Haechan’s jaw hangs limp in shock, letting out a shattered moan when you pull at his length roughly. “Turn the fuck around.”
He listens without even trying to resist, grabbing onto one of the shelfs with your fist still circled around him. “S-sorry.. I thought..”
“Shut the fuck up Haechan.” Grabbing his wrists, you loop them both back and trap them in place against his lower back. Reaching lower with your free hand to smooth over his ass.
“Now, repeat that? What did you just say to me?”
He shakes, turning his face to the side to watch you from the corner of his eye. “Nothing nothing! I take it back!”
“Are you sorry?” You whisper, nipping at his jaw. Fingers skimming between the crevice between his ass.
The vibrations soaring off his body intensify, trembling harder, breathing through his nose gruffly. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He chants, breaking off into a whimper.
He doesn’t know what you wish he was sorry for. Delivering a slap to his ass and watching it bounce back against the collision, you hum lowly.
“Come here.” He’s easy to whip around, shivering from head to toe excitedly. Ankles weak to walk on as if he could cum already, making it easy to push him down onto the floor.
“Fuck, you’re crazy..” he whimpers, laying back and kicking his legs to get his pants off. He looks more pathetic than the first time you ever met him, sobbing under you, crying for you to let him go.
“It’s your fault.” You mutter, pushing your skirt and underwear off to mount his hips without restraint. “Wish I’d never met you.” You hiss, reaching for his chin to dig your fingers into his cheeks. He blinks up at your blearily, the bright light above you staining his face in a white translucent shade, eyes lost and glossy. He’s pretty, so so so pretty, makes your chest burn and ache. He’s always been pretty, eyelashes fanning across his cheeks slowly with each blink, plump lips shoved out for you to capture.
“You’re so sexy.” He mutters, struggling under your rough grip. “If I’d known—“
“If you had known what?” You sneer, slapping his cheek hard enough for his head to snap to the side, eyes bewildered and surprised.
“Fuck you’re..” he spits, bending forward at his neck to watch your core sit down on his length. “Ahh.. shit I’m still!—” He splutters, head dropping back, hips rutting up as you start to slide against his cock.
It’s easy to take control and feel powerful on top of him like this, shifting back to grab his knees and push them up. “Stay still.” You demand, using force to push the pits of his knees down and hold yourself up. Haechan whimpers from the change in position, feeling small and confined under your figure sitting above him.
“Fuck I’m—not gonna last long. You’re too much.” He’s such a whiny sniveling mess, drooling down his chin, cock twitching against your cunt.
“You like that?” Hoisting yourself up against his legs, you lift enough to line the tip of his cock up to your entrance, hips trembling as you begin to lower and breach your hole.
“Ahhh! Fuck!” Haechan screams pretty, high-pitched, unashamed. His head tosses back fully exposing his Adam’s apple, dainty collarbones. He’s nothing now, nothing but a groveling whore begging to be fucked.
“Say it.” You say full of threat, struggling to keep yourself held up, clawing your nails into the sides of his knees. “Beg me to fuck you.”
The softest cracked moan spills from his red juicy mouth, face dropped to the side looking at you with half-lidded drunk eyes. “Please please, please fuck me.”
He’s nothing, and he could easily be yours.
It’s so easy to mount him, to bury the rest of his length inside of you. It’s less of a struggle to take him than you’re used to, filling you to the brim with a wet splash against his pelvis where you land. He whines and moans through it, making you work to ride his cock faster.
Haechan looks brainless, gorgeous, stupid as fuck with his tongue hung out lavving at the drool pouring from the corners of his lips. Sweaty hands push yours off his knees, holding himself open wider to free your hands. The burn running up your thighs calms as you grab onto his chest and ball his shirt between your fists, short of breath the faster you work to fall into a rhythm.
“Faster, come on, fuck me faster!” He grunts under you, voice loud and ragged over the thunderous clap of your ass crashing down on him.
“Shut the fuck up whore.” You bite, reaching to wrap around his neck for better leverage. Pretty brown eyes go wide, gasping for breath as you tighten around his throat until his head shakes and he sounds empty of air. His cock thrums wildly, urging you to slam down harder, rock your hips faster. The veins along his forehead expand the more he struggles to breathe, mouth hung wide open like nothing but a dumb slut. “Only sluts get off f-from being choked.”
He nods weakly, coughing and groaning, sweaty fingers slipping on and off his legs. “Yes yes, ahhh g-gonna cum.”
“If you cum before me I’ll bite your dick off.” You spit out angrily, freeing his neck to clasp his chin and bury your fingers inside of his slutty mouth. “You useless slut.”
Haechan’s eyes roll back, tongue lapping between your digits, balls colliding with your ass with each heavy thrust. “Ah—ahh!” He gurgles and spits, making a mess around your fingers. “Pl-please!”
The hold on his knees slips free, arms flopping down to his sides, legs landing on the ground hard with rapid tremors shooting through. “Shit!” You grunt, stilling as his length pulses and warmth fills the condom, sliding off before any of it can pour out inside of you. “What did I fucking say?!”
Anger and arousal combined feel similar to a slasher film. Murderous and frightening, craving death around the corner as the music changes to warn you as the next kill approaches. Haechan lays under you out of breath, face covered in sweat and saliva, cock pathetically twitching against his stomach. “Selfish.”
Snapping the condom band into place, you settle back down on his length, making him shout out and shake his head. “No no! That hurts!”
“I said shut the fuck up.” Bending in, you reach for his hair, fisting handfuls to pull on and control the speed of your hips. So useless, so stupid and useless, you deserve better than this. Better than someone who can’t even control his own needs to make sure you both finish and reach pleasure.
Tears brim his eyes as you rock down and roll your cunt against his half-hard soaked cock. The friction of creamy wet rubber rutting against his length more painful than enjoyable at this point, springing droplets down his cheeks.
“You’re so weak.” He nods, has the nerve to agree with you. Biting down on his plush bottom lip to compress a sob, glossy eyes blinking tears out faster.
The broken sight of him sends shivers up your spine, jabbing the tip of his cock against your clit in rapid motion until your hole convulses and draws out a much deserved orgasm.
“Holy shit..” he wheezes out breathlessly, the back of his head hitting the floor painfully as you abruptly release him and move to the side.
Satisfaction courses through your veins, along with something else weighing heavy on your mind..
That was.. interesting. Is that the word you’re looking for? Interesting.
Patting the floor for your skirt, you immediately grab your phone. Jeno hasn’t texted yet. Even more interesting, something really must be wrong with his dad.. you should send him a message first. He might need you right now. Why the hell do you care about what he needs..
“Hey, let’s keep this between us.” Haechan disrupts your inner monologue, patting your shoulder. “Don’t need Jeno seriously spreading those photos around and whatever else he’s blackmailing me with.”
“Does your dad know about your drug use?” You ask, sliding your arm away from his touch.
He frowns, nose wrinkling annoyed. “Why the fuck would he know about that?!”
Because you’re a spoiled brat. Surprised that daddy even cares about his privileged son ruining his future, blowing his father’s hard earned money on more white shit to snort up his nose.
You shrug, buttoning up your shirt. “I guess you have a lot of secrets.”
Like me.
You are one of Haechan’s secrets if you think about it.. his secrets stemming from shame it seems. Because he’s ashamed of you, of the part of his life you remind him of.
“Whatever.” He scoffs, standing uncomfortably, nervously scratching his head.
“Don’t worry.” You reassure, picking up your belongings and grabbing the door handle. “There’s nothing your secrets can provide for me. See you later?”
His frown deepens, chewing on his bottom lip and shrugging. “Whatever.”
“Goodbye Haechan.”
You leave first, emotions unsettled and scattered as you walk down the hall to your locker. It’s nearing the end of the day, thankful that Haechan only made you miss gym class. Jeno always takes longer to fuck you, he likes to make sure you always get off, sometimes he doesn’t even finish..
Jeno. Shit.
‘Waiting for you by the north gate entrance.’
Shit shit shit. What the fuck. Jeno said he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to pick you up today, or that he’d try to, whatever. Not even a heads up?! Nothing to warn you??
Fuck, what if you smell like Haechan?! Knowing Jeno he’d be able to tell. There’s no way you can come up with something quick enough to get him off your ass, another text alerts you demanding for you to hurry up.
‘If you’re not out here in the next 50 seconds I’m coming inside.’
Fuck. You really fucked up this time, fear picks up your pace to jog through the hallway corridor faster, dodging your classmates bodies left and right until you near the exit short of breath and look out to see your… Jeno, stepping out from the driver’s seat.
“There you are.” He smiles, a big smile, the type that reaches his eyes. The one that’s for show, for others to coo and aww at. The one that garners close-to-ear whispers behind hands and eyes bouncing back and forth from you to Jeno.
‘Why her?’
Everyone asks, everyone wants to know. You never asked before, until one day the voices broke you down and found yourself constantly asking- ‘why me?’
You’d never ask Jeno, you never ask him anything.. but right now, as you nervously force your lips into a measly smile, the cramp forming in your stomach nearly makes you trip down the grass hill leading to where his cars parked awaiting you with the passenger door open.
“That’s funny.” Jeno says under his breath, leaning in to wrap around your waist. “You never smile at me.” He whispers near your ear, taking a step back to look over your face. “What’s up?”
The way his head tilts scrutinizing your face makes your chest cave, lips pressed together tightly as his eyelashes lower over his iris the more he lowers toward your neck; the collar of your shirt saves you of any fear that Haechan left behind any incriminating evidence of what took place less than an hour ago.
“Hmm..” Jeno reaches forward before you have a chance to react, tugging you closer by the fanned edges of your collared shirt. “Now why is your top button undone..”
He can see the way your throat jumps, hollowing out between your collarbones with each dry nervous swallow. “And your necklace.”
Your choker, he means. Fuck your choker. The lucid memory of Haechan angrily pulling on the teddy charm adorning the strap squeezing your neck makes your teeth grit, hidden behind your quivering lips.
“Strange.” Jeno’s eyebrows gather together, the gleam in his eyes darkening despite afternoon sun illuminating down on him, highlighting every defined flawless attractive feature. “You’ve never disobeyed me this much before.”
“Wha—“
“You know you’re supposed to always have this uncovered. Why did I dip into my savings and risk getting chewed out by my dad? For you to try to make me a secret?” Jeno finishes buttoning your shirt back up, digits reaching beneath the leather to adjust the charm’s position while adding more pressure, losing the tiny centimeter of space between your neck and the material. “Did something happen while I was gone?”
“No!” Your reactions too fast, fast enough to fully widen his eyes, mouth tensed as he meets your gaze. “I—I had to.. to participate..”
“In what?”
“Physical Ed.. you know I always sit out with you.” Jeno watched your choice of physical activity: yoga, for less than a week before deciding this form of education benefited you in no way. Something about those ridiculous yoga pants you wear for class only seemed to distract a group of guys in the weight lifting class across the gym. He concocted doctor's slips for the both of you to sit out and study instead. “Coach didn’t let me today.. she said there's no way my period cramps last all month. I must have forgotten to fix my necklace after getting dressed, I’m sorry..”
Jeno nods, smoothing his thumb over your warm cheek, hot from anxiety rising the longer you stand there and risk the chance of running into Haechan on his way home. “That bitch. I’ll deal with her tomorrow.”
He pauses again, a contemplative look taking over as he reaches for your hair and smooths down fly aways. “No wonder you look sweaty. Must have been working hard, using all of your body and stamina.” Jeno’s tone lowers to a whisper, gently pressing under your lash line. “Even smeared your mascara..”
“I really should take a shower.” You say, managing to speak quickly without stutter. “Didn’t have a chance to after gym class and the air conditioning must have been broken or something in the homeroom.”
“That’s fine.” Leaning in, his nose presses to your jugular taking a deep inhale. “I like it, smell like you just got fucked.” Reaching for your lower back, Jeno moves you forward toward the passenger seat, the facade of a nice boyfriend(or whatever he is) vanishes with the turn of his head.
You learned quickly to let him do what he wants after receiving nothing but hard stares to shut you down. Jeno wants things done his way, even buckling your seatbelt is his responsibility.
The engine vibrates as you wait for him to settle into his seat and back out of the parking lot, just barely missing Haechan’s exit by a few seconds.
It’s silent on the way to his home, tense and thick. Maybe it’s guilt, your guilt, guilt you can’t understand carrying to begin with. Why should you feel guilty? Does Jeno deserve that? Is it really because Haechan didn’t feel like Jeno? Because he didn’t make you relinquish control, didn’t make you feel special? Is that what Jeno does? He makes you feel like nothing else matters more than you?
Biting your nails raw, down to the rough neglected skin beneath until the tips of your fingers ache, you’re unsure if it's the silence that bothers you more or your spiraling thoughts screaming louder and louder. “Was everything okay? With your dad?”
Jeno comes to a stop at a red light, tapping the steering wheel, lips parting open into a half smile. “I didn’t think you’d ask me.”
He doesn’t turn to look at you, only glances from the corner of his eye, sleek and cold. “You never ask me anything.”
A dry breathy laugh passes through his nose, stepping on the gas again as you near the neighborhood you’ve become more familiar with than your own by now. “Did you miss me that much today, teddy?” He’s grinning, stoically, and if you blink too long you’d miss the way his head shakes in disbelief.
Shutting off his car, he turns and reaches for your chin to lift your face up. It’s your best effort to appear as nothing, not display an ounce of guilt or shame, but not smile or stare back too long— because that would be out of character. “Is there something you need to tell me?”
The gleam passing his gaze is damn near unnerving, adjusting your face side to side as if he’s inspecting for damage. “Did something happen while I was gone?”
The most you give him is a barely noticeable shake of your head, gaze lowered to your lap, nothing too out of the ordinary..
Jeno leans over the space between you, turning your gaze back to him, digits spread out along your jaw for more control. “I think..”
He presses closer, forehead connecting to yours leaving just an inch of space between your nose and lips. Lips that left behind their moisture and shine on another man, a mouth that you fear may still carry remnants of his taste. “My teddy..”
Jeno’s lips graze yours enough to hitch your breath, shutting the seam of your mouth shut. That doesn’t stop him from cupping your face, overtaking power and pushing your lips forward with the pressure of his palms squeezing you in. “You are starting to like me more than you realize.”
He kisses the swell of your pout, biting his lower lip for a second to admire how swollen and worn your mouth looks; as if someone has sucked on the fleshy fat roughly. Someone reckless who could give a shit about you. “Or at least more than you’re ready to admit.”
Jeno lets go, leaving you gasping for breath as he sits back and studies your reaction. “Kiss me.”
It’s not a question, it’s not even a demand, he’s too relaxed. It’s expectant, because you’ll listen to him, if you know what’s good for you; and you do.
There’s no way to crawl between the front seats without it being awkward, having to reach for Jeno’s thigh to keep yourself sturdy. He huffs to mask a laugh, turning away when you direct your pout toward his lips. “Kiss me the way you really want to.”
He knows you don’t want to, but he doesn’t know why; and maybe that’s where your guilt stems from because you can still taste Haechan between your teeth; and the pink flush spread across his mouth stirs a need up from your stomach to your chest.
“Go on.” Jeno’s head rests against his seat, eyebrows raised waiting. You manage to slip onto his lap after banging your knee into the cup holder, gripping onto his shoulders to align your weight onto his crotch. The same way he likes to hold you in the evening while playing games with your head laid on his chest.
Jeno kisses you everyday, he kisses you. You could trace the shape of his lips with your eyes shut at this point, subconsciously you even notice whenever he reapplies chapstick from the light menthol scent and taste alone.
There’s something you’ve noticed over time as you lean in and breathe out nervously across his impatient mouth. Jeno never looks away first, he watches for your response to everything, silently analyzing the tiniest smallest movements. He has to, because you give him nothing, and he does it well. Even now with your eyes falling shut too nervous to look at him up close, he stays tuned in to your bottom lip trembling, the little twitch between your eyebrows and how much your hands shake while gliding up to his neck.
This shouldn’t feel like your first kiss with him, not after everything, but it does. You are the one in control for once and you’re the one applying pressure. Taking time to feel out just how soft his lips actually are when they aren’t roughly prying your mouth open to shove his tongue inside. The tightness beneath your palms even seems to relax the more you move between top and bottom lip, gently sucking and pulling them between yours.
Jeno doesn’t move, he even lets his hands rest by his thighs despite itching to gather your waist and grind you down against him. He wants to see how far you’ll go on your own, especially after today; because maybe you needed this time apart, albeit only a few hours, but maybe you needed to be alone to understand just how much you need him.
“I’m not a good kisser..” you finish with a light as a feather peck at the corner of his mouth, dropping your face embarrassed. “It’s better when you do it.”
Oh? He perks up at that, giving into his desire with hands encompassing your waist. “You are good, you just..”
He rubs up and down your sides, letting out a long sigh while looking you over. “You don’t like me, right?” Jeno bites down a smile, nodding to himself. He knows you’d pour your soul into a kiss with Haechan, you probably dream of some ridiculously romantic rekindling of your relationship with some ridiculous scenario: fixing all the damage with one kiss..
“That’s not it—“
“You don’t.” He nods again, an accepting nod.
And it’s okay, because you still have hope, somehow you still have so much hope that Haechan will save you from this. That your stupid childhood first love still carries you deep within his heart the way you always have, because you have so much good left inside of you in spite of every obstacle put in your way. Jeno likes that, that’s why he befriended Haechan in the first place, because good people are rare to come by.
But Haechan is not a good person anymore, and soon enough your spark will die out too.
“It’s not that Jeno..”
“Let’s get inside, I ordered takeout, should be here soon.” He says with an ordering pat pat pat against your hip, unlocking his door for you to exit first. “You hardly touched your lunch today.”
“Is it okay if I take a shower first?” Having to ask makes your stomach churn, mumbling behind the tips of your fingers finding their way back between your teeth to bite down on your nails.
“Stop doing that.” Jeno gently pries your wrists away, opening the door to his bedroom. “You never shower until after we fuck.”
“Like I said.. the air conditioning..”
Jeno eyes you skeptically, huffing and grinning. “You think I’ll care if you smell a little?” He’s back on you, encasing your waist as he bends in to drag his nose along your throat. “I think you smell sweet.”
“It’s not that.. I just feel gross.”
And you do, you feel extremely gross. More disgusted with yourself than you’ve ever felt after allowing Jeno to defile you. The more you try to push away what you’ve just done, the more unsettled you feel by all of it.
“You wanna change?” He places a light kiss upon your cheekbone, moving away to sit at his computer chair. “Grab whatever you want to wear. Don’t take too long though or your food will get cold.”
Part of you wants to stand there and argue, claim that you aren’t hungry despite the rumble your stomach gives at the mention of warm food; but a hot shower to wash away the remnants of Haechan’s spit and other fluids depletes any will to bother Jeno any longer.
“Are you sure?” You ask, skimming over the drawers lined up against the other side of his bedroom.
Jeno hums, already logging on to play league and waving you off. “Yeah, wear whatever.”
Showering in his bathroom had become very standard, like he said you typically prefer to after the act, but today’s different of course. His bathroom is much nicer than the community one shared by multiple people at your shitty studio complex. The studio you rarely spend much time living in anymore ever since Jeno forced his way into your life.
There is something inside of you that sighs out of relief under the shower stream, stretching your arms out and up high freely, enjoying the quality of bath soaps and shower gels he keeps stocked. Jeno always smells nice, fresh and clean, not smokey and suffocating the way Haechan did..
The memory of his luxurious musky scent has your palms traveling lower, reaching for the shower head to thoroughly clean away any possible trace of him left behind between your legs.
Jeno would go ballistic if he knew.. you aren’t even sure how he’d react, and you don’t want to find out.
“Food’s here?” You ask quietly, still drying your hair by the bathroom door connected to Jeno’s bedroom. He takes a minute to answer, engulfed in the game playing across his computer screen.
“Just got here.” Jeno says, hitting pause to look at you. His lips loosen, jaw opening as he gazes from your feet taking short steps forward to your bare legs and his pink hoodie hanging past your hips. “Wow.”
“What?” You pause, looking yourself over nervously. He said to pick whatever you want to wear, you even double checked with him. He can’t be mad right? Maybe this is his favorite hoodie and now—
Jeno’s eyes soften, scanning up and down your figure as he reaches out and rolls his seat forward to grab your hips. “You look really cute.”
“Oh..” heat drives up your neck, lowering your eyes to look away from the pleased smile that tugs at his lips.
“I should make you wear my clothes more often.” Jeno squeezes up your sides, drawing the fabric to follow his touch and lift over your hips. “Come here.”
Leaning back, he motions for you to climb onto his lap, a bag of steaming hot food sits at the corner of his desk waiting. “But the food..”
He lifts one groomed eyebrow, responding with a silent command to do as he says before he makes you regret it.
“We’ll eat first.” Jeno wraps an arm around your stomach, tugging your back to press against his chest as he reaches for the bag. “Put on whatever you want to watch.”
It’s times like this in his bedroom, as you ease into his hold and pout when he swirls noodles around a fork to feed you with that you can’t help but to feel something.
Something you can’t bring yourself to accept, because that would make him right about everything..
That’s what makes it harder to eat, harder to sit still and let yourself grow too comfortable, harder to laugh when something funny happens on the TV show you chose.
Jeno can’t win, even if he continues to prod your mouth with another spoonful of rice, and softly smiles before licking away a piece from the corner of your mouth. “You’re so cute.” He mumbles, pushing the boxes of food aside. “Turn around.”
“Do we have to?”
Large palms run up your thighs, squeezing as they find a way between your legs to the fleshy meat lined along the outsides of your groin. “You’re cute, but don’t test me.”
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･
Jeno’s been extra clingy ever since that day he had to leave earlier. You can’t say you hate it.. and maybe it gives you an excuse for why Haechan’s been completely avoidant, not looking at you once. You wanted to wave at him, say hi as you passed each other, but with thick biceps belted around you at all times you knew better.
He could just be ignoring you because of Jeno.
He could just be ignoring you because he doesn’t give a shit.
“Really do hate that I have to spend the next hour and a half without you.” Jeno sighs sadly, kissing your cheek. “Fucking hate Philosophy too.”
“It’s just one class.”
“One class that’s stealing precious time I could be spending with my girlfriend.”
There he goes again, that bullshit title he keeps using. It’s almost worse than his constant love bombs. “Second bells about to ring.” You mumble, shoving his arms off.
“Yeah yeah, I know you can’t wait to get away from me.” He pouts, leaning against the door frame, glancing behind you at the area he knows you often set up at. Eyes squinting as he observes one of your classmates. “I’ll be here when you’re done. Be good.”
Or else.
The silent haunting echo follows you to your seat, apprehensively setting your bag down with a subtle peak toward the door to make sure he’s gone.
“How’s the research going?”
A deep voice startles you, jumping up and dropping your belongings. “Crap.”
“Ah, that’s my bad.” He crouches down before you’re even squatted halfway, long hands reaching to gather your brushes and pencils. “Was just asking how the papers going. I really think we should get together to make sure we’re both on the same page. I don’t want you to hate me if we get a bad grade..”
“Get together?!” You splurt out abruptly, coughing on choked spit. “Outside of class??”
The thing is, Jeno didn’t really know about Jisung Park. Why would he? He’s not in this class.
He didn’t know that part of the reason you loved this class so much wasn’t because he’s not in it. No(although that helps). It’s because from the first day you noticed Jisung sitting quietly free-hand drawing beautifully, you wanted to compliment his sketches, get to know him better; ask if he’s always had an interest in art..
But you didn’t, instead you shyly hid your face and looked away whenever he’d glance around. Sure, maybe you happened to notice how attractive he is too, but that didn’t matter to you. It’s not like you had a crush on him or anything..
And it’s not like your stomach exploded with butterflies as everyone paired off for your final project for the semester, leaving you nervously taking steps back and forth looking for anyone available.
Jisung approached you first, asking quietly and shyly. ‘Do you have a partner yet?’
That’s how you ended up here, your norm for the last week being to sit by him during class so you could exchange ideas and work on your final project together.
And that crush you didn’t have ended up becoming very very real. Jisung.. he’s nice, really nice. Genuine and thoughtful, he always asks how your days been, if you have any plans later on, tries to get to know you with curious and non-invasive questions.
It’s easy to bond over your love and appreciation for art, and he thought it was cool that you once dreamed of illustrating mangas(until capitalism and reality set in). He sparked light around the dark corners you hide in. Your secret, something only for you, something Jeno couldn’t ruin or touch..
“Yeah. You can come over to my place tonight? My parents both work late hours so we shouldn’t have any interruptions.”
An invite to his place, where you’d be alone. Only the two of you, no Jeno..
“Your place? Tonight?”
“Yeah? If that’s okay with you?” Jisung smiles apprehensively, reaching to scratch at his sideburn. “I’d like to keep my perfect GPA intact.. it’s okay if you can’t, I don’t mind completing the bulk of it myself.”
“No no, that’s not fair.” You wave him off, biting at your nail. “I’ll uhm, yeah—no, yeah, I’m free later. Write down your address.” Sliding him your notebook, you reach for your phone to text Jeno under your desk. This is for school, for your perfect GPA.. he needs to be understanding.
Jisung perks up and scribbles down where you can meet him after school, clapping his hands together. “I’ll set some snacks out for us, I’m sure we’ll be working hours into the evening.”
Hours into the evening.. Jeno won’t like that.
Jeno doesn’t like that. Immediately shooting down your messages with a flat out ‘no’.
It came down to begging, explaining to him on the way to your next class how important this extracurricular course is for your future internship applications, even your counselor said that. It’s not a good look if you only excel in your non-creative courses, unless you plan to apply for a job that requires zero social interaction and teamwork.
‘Good luck with that.’ Your counselor mumbled, signing you up for this art class in the first place.
“The whole purpose of being here is for you to finish partnered work here.” Jeno snaps, shaking his head. “Who’s your partner anyway?! Why haven’t you mentioned this until now??”
“We only barely received the project yesterday!” You lie, looking at anything else but him. “My partner.. Hani!” Thinking fast you blurt out the first classmate you can think of, praying to yourself that Jeno doesn’t know her.
“Hani?” He repeats, seeming pleased to hear a girl's name. “And what time are you supposed to meet?”
It took further convincing, a little bit of bribery, maybe you skipped Yoga to suck him off in the bathroom. But it worked, Jeno seemed at ease after hearing that your classmate Hani was counting on this project to keep her grades up. Your scholarship requirements too, sure.
“Call me when you’re done.” He says, parking on another street nearby you’d given him directions to, just in case..
“Of course.. it might be late.”
Jeno grumbles, leaning over to kiss you until your lips feel bruised and tender. He kisses like it could be the last time he’ll ever see you, but that never makes you react. He always kisses like that..
“Love you.”
You nod, stepping out and waving him off, letting him know that Hani takes the bus home and you’ll have to wait a few minutes longer. He seems hesitant to drive off at first, only finally taking off out of the street when his dad calls him about something.
Phew.
Panic and fear get shoved down as you make your way to Jisung’s actual address. You shouldn’t be this nervous, it’s just a project..
With your crush, alone, together, only the two of you. That’s why you stand at the front door to his house for a while, shifting from foot to foot, playing with the strings of your backpack.
Jeno would be really mad if he found out about this. What would be worse? Lying? Or Jisung? There’s no way he would have allowed for you to come here alone, without him. Lying was your only option..
Taking a deep breath, you reach for the doorbell, gasping as it flies open immediately.
“You made it!” He smiles, toeing off his shoes, still wearing the same outfit from earlier. “I just got in myself, had to jump the backyard fence because I must have dropped my key, sorry. Were you waiting long?”
“Oh no.. it’s fine.” You mumble, passing through and removing your shoes quietly. He seems even taller now, walking next to him in nothing but socks.
“You must be hungry, let’s raid the pantry real fast before heading to my room.”
His room, you’ll be alone in his room..
Jisung’s a couple of years younger than you, and it’s evident when you step inside of his bedroom and take in the different toys he has scattered about; moving around to throw his jacket over a pile of stuffed animals displayed in one corner.
“Shall we?” He says, motioning to sit at his desk, dropping the bags of chips and cookies he found. “I’ve already wrapped up the bulk of writing, and cited everything, we just have to go over key points for our presentation.”
“Oh, that’s great. Thank you for doing all of that.” You smile, sensing heat rise up to your cheeks. His parents must not use the air conditioning much..
He snorts breathily, shrugging. “You seem really busy, with your boyfriend and all..”
“He’s not my boyf—he’s,” trailing off, you shake your head and grab your notes. “Let’s focus on this so we can try to finish early.”
“You’re always with him..” Jisung sits up awkwardly, playing with his knuckles. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed anything. You’re right, let’s uhm, get to work.
To your surprise Jeno doesn’t blow up your phone with texts, and you think about his dad again. He never did tell you what happened that day.. he should share personal things with you if he expects you to start trusting him. To build some solid type of relationship with him. The skin around your nails practically screams and begs to be left alone as you bring your fingers up to your mouth and begin to bite at anything you can find. He should have texted you by now..
“Something wrong?” Jisung asks, ruffling his fluffy black hair. “You seem a little distracted.”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
“We’ve been working for two hours,” he nods, setting down his pen and organizing what you’ve finished so far. “Let’s take a break, I can really use one too.”
A break? Your eyes widen, following his figure as he stands and stretches his arms up, tight shirt lifting up his stomach halfway giving your curious gaze a real show. “Come on, our brains are probably in overdrive after a day of classes and now this, you should lay down for a bit.”
Lay down?!
Motioning to his bed, he smiles and directs you to follow with his chin. “Come on, I won’t bite.” He says sitting down, patting the empty space next to him.
Oh, but you might.
Stealing one more glance at your phone, you set it screen down on his desk, getting up and pretending to yawn. “You’re right.. sometimes I don’t know when to stop.”
Jisung laughs lightly, falling back and letting out a long sigh. “Me too, my grades mean a lot to me. I’m trying to get an internship this summer at Lee Corp.”
“No way!” You say excitedly, staying sat up on his bed and leaning on your palm to look at him. “I am too! Which program are you going for?”
“Engineer of course, they pay the best out of everyone in the country. Did you read that Forbes article? Haechan’s father must be a genius.”
You hum, brushing off the comment about Haechan, he’s the last person you want to talk about right now. “I was thinking about Global Affairs.. I really think a lot of their apps could expand and excel in foreign countries.”
Jisung laughs, smiling up his eyes, clasping his hands together on his stomach. “Look at us trying to relax.. we still end up talking about work.”
“I guess you’re right.. I’m not the best at, uh, relaxing?”
Jisung sits up on his elbows, eyebrows lifted as he looks at you. “I could.. make some suggestions.”
“Uhhh..”
He lets out an awkward laugh, turning onto his side and scratching his neck. “Sorry, that was lame. It’s just uhm, since you said you don’t have a boyfriend, I’ve been thinking..”
Shit.
He sucks in his thick pink bottom lip, biting down nervously. “I’ve always thought you were real cute, but you’re always with that guy so I kept my distance.”
“You, y-you did?” You stammer, clearing your throat and sitting up straight. “Ah, that’s—that’s nice. I mean, thank you.”
Jisung sits up, long bangs falling into his eyes as he tilts and stares at you in a way you’ve never had anyone look at you. There’s softness in his gaze, exposing his teeth as he leans closer to your face, huffing under his breath. “I’m not good at this, but I’d really like to kiss you right now..”
Kiss?!?
“Is that okay?” There’s a tremble in his voice, dipping in closer until your noses are less than an inch apart.
No. It’s not okay. You shouldn’t even be here right now. But isn’t it okay? Aren’t you in this relationship with Jeno against your will? Hasn’t Haechan been ignoring you for days? This could be your only chance at something normal.. someone who actually likes you for you.
Jisung’s heart looks damn near ready to break judging by the way his pout begins to droop, it’s instinct to rectify what you’ve caused that has you pressing forward; the first to brush your lips together. He lets a staggered breath free, moving to cup around your throat to deepen the kiss. It’s soft, nice, slow enough that you can process and absorb every small caress of your lips against his.
“I really..” he sighs out a laugh, tapping the end of his nose to yours. “Could help you relax..”
You deserve this, right? Why even question it? You like him, he likes you, and a part of you fully expected(or wanted) this to happen.
“Okay..”
Maybe the soft innocence radiating off of him is moreso the difference in your age. But there’s something about the way Jisung gently lays you down and places a pillow beneath your head. He kisses you again, and again, and again, slowly working your mouth open to allow his tongue to roam freely and explore.
It’s nice and calm without overstimulating your arousal, not until his fingers trace along your throat, pulling back with a smile that asks for permission.
Assuming he expects more you squirm anxiously, helping him slide his hand lower down your stomach to the button of your jeans. “Can I?” He asks, again, always checking in to confirm you’re okay with his next move.
You help him by shimmying out of your jeans, allowing for his hand to dip inside of your underwear as you continue to kiss and arch up at the first graze of long thick fingers swiping between your folds. His hands are warm, movements fluid and practiced, collecting the wad of wetness at your entrance to rub over your clit and begin stimulating your nerves. You can’t help to think- this is how it’s supposed to be, getting to know your body first with soft strokes, feeling the different parts of you to learn what gets you off.
“Wanna eat you out.” Jisung whispers against your mouth, trailing two digits lower to press against your hole. “Wanna taste.”
You nod eagerly, much too eagerly, kicking your jeans off to the floor, lifting your hips to invite him inside. He rubs circles around your entrance teasingly, tapping a few times before pulling out to sit up on his knees and tug off his shirt.
Jisung may be younger, but his body’s built nothing short of a man. Muscles line his stomach, arms firm and flexed as he pushes off his pants and climbs back onto the bed in nothing but a snuggly fit pair of boxer briefs. He pushes your top up under your breasts, hands large enough to hide the base of your stomach when they lay flat on top of you and begin to slide down to your underwear. “Like your panties..” he whispers, leaning down to trace the rose on your mound, making your hips twitch.
He likes them enough to not even take them off, laying down on his stomach to drag his nose down the damp seat of your panties. God Jeno would never— stop thinking about him. Stop saying what he’d do, he doesn’t exist. Jisung’s the one between your thighs, collecting your underwear to one side and taking a deep breath. “You’re just as pretty down here..”
His deep voice makes your toes curl against the bed, bending your knees up to grant him more access. “Can I touch?”
Nodding eagerly, you lift your hips again for him to push your folds apart, groaning as his thumb presses to your clit. “Like it when I do that?”
“Yes.. use your mouth..”
Jisung groans, half whimpering, tucking his face lower between your thighs. Thick lips suction around your clit, sucking the nub between and flicking his tongue out. His slow polite manners dissipate the more he ruts against his bed and sucks around your bundle of nerves. “Taste as good as you look.” He murmurs, long tongue dragging down to your tight hole to lap inside.
“You’re getting real wet.” He breathes out, cursing. Ducking back down to lick a fat stripe from your contracting wet hole to your clit. His tongue laves between your folds, spilling saliva and wetness across each, dipping his tongue in and out. He suckles on your clit, big hands splayed on your inner thighs pushing them further open to jam his tongue deeper inside.
You need more, fingers twitch midair before reaching into his hair and scratching at his scalp. “More!”
Jisung growls, shoving his face in until his nose digs against your bundle of nerves, panting against your opening with his tongue flicking against your inner walls.
He pulls back to glide two fingers inside, taking the chance to tug firmly on his scalp and shake your head. “Do y-you have a condom?”
Surprise paints his delicate face, appearing obscene with your arousal hanging from his chin. He nods quickly and jumps from the bed to slam open his bedside drawer and pull out a wad of protection. “I have a ton!” He scurries back onto the bed and grabs onto your knees, wide-eyed and dazed. “I mean.. do you want to?”
“Mhm..” you nod, sitting up to kiss up his neck, ripping the packet open and shoving your hand inside of his briefs.
You wish he would shut up just a little, favoring the breathy whines and whimpered moans he lets out when you finally wrap around his length and slide down the condom.
Jisung kisses you again, sucking on your bottom lip until it swells, licking across the fronts of your teeth. He lowers you back down comfortably and shoves his boxers down, length jumping up and slapping against his stomach.
“Y-you’re not like..” Jisung stutters, laughing to himself as he positions to line his cock up to your cunt. “Like a virgin?”
This is why you wish he’d shut up, gritting your teeth before forcing a smile. “Of course not.”
“Ah, figured.. wanted to be sure.” He takes a deep breath and cups your hips, inching forward slowly. “If it hurts—“
“I’ll let you know.”
It stings a little once he’s sheathed in half deep, he’s big, most of all thick. But the pain feels familiar, something you crave now..
“Come on.” You encourage, lifting your hips to fuck the rest of his length inside. “Fuck me, come on.”
Jisung gasps, long and choked, falling forward and catching himself by grabbing onto your shoulders. He watches your hips cant up for a minute, literally riding his cock, pussy slapping against his pelvis.
“Fuck, oh my God..” he croons, sounding out of breath already.
“Fuck me!” You beg, clinging onto his waist to scratch your nails down his flat tight stomach. “Please please, fuck me.”
Jisung snaps, nodding furiously as he crawls forward on his knees and hooks your thighs over his hips, throwing his hips into action to ram inside of you faster.
“Yeah yeah, just like that!” You whine, fucking him back to make him match your speed.
His hands reach for your waist, slamming in harder until you’re gurgling and writhing in his hold. Cock sliding in and out so wet and deep, the pain completely gone, only receiving pleasure with each meet of your hips.
It’s still missing something, something that has you reaching between your bodies to pinch your clit between two fingers. Nodding and panting for him to keep going. “S-so close.”
His palms land flat around the sides of your head, gripping the bedding in tight fists, using the leverage to drop his hips down faster. Fuck his cock in deeper and harder.
The sight of him above you, pale, muscular, black hair in his face, it’s enough to drift your mind away somewhere else. Shutting your eyes as heat burns up from your gut to your chest. Clit gone numb from your ferocious rubs, you twitch and cry out. The squeeze slowing him down as you clamp around him and begin to cum.
“Yesyesyes!” Through your blurry vision you can see him crumbling on top of you. Forcing his cock in past your tight heat, if not for how pitchy his moans sing out you’d swear..
“Ah, I’m c-cumming! I’m cu-cumming!” Jisung’s face tightens up, kissing the backs of his teeth. Hips locked in place, cock twitching as he fills up the condom with warmth. He pants and hangs his head between his shoulders, hips circling on more time before pulling out slowly. An audible pop resounds once he’s emptied you, flopping onto the bed by your side, stripping the condom off to give his dick a break for a moment, he throws it aside and lays back catching his breath. “No better way to relax than that..”
You wish you could say the same, already seeking your nails to chew on. That couldn’t have been too long, right? You need to check your phone, Jeno could have surely hunted you down by now if you’d even taken longer than a minute to respond. Maybe he’s really trying to respect your boundaries for once. Either way, you need to get out of here.
Tip toeing on to his bedroom floor, you step back into your clothes, quietly gathering your things to not wake him. Waking him could lead to conversation and more time you’d have to spend here..
There’s something you can only describe as guilt infiltrating your mostly pleased thoughts. Sneaking out of Jisung’s house was easy, scribbling off a note quickly that you’d see him at school later.
Jeno could be waiting outside where he dropped you off, you told him not to.. but he worries about you a lot. He’s always worried about you, it’s nice actually. It’s nice how much he cares about you, hell.. he checks in on you more than even your own parents.
God. What the hell are you thinking? Who cares if he worries about you. He’s a fucking psycho is what he is. Why are you even thinking about him right now? After everything that’s happened.
Jisung’s really nice, he’s really smart, seems to have a good head on his shoulders. Yet Jeno.. Jeno feels like an infection you can’t find the cure for at this point. He’s everywhere, every time you shut your eyes, whenever you wake up, he’s the first person you think about, the first person you want to see.
This is ridiculous, you’re just tired, that’s it. Too tired to wait for Jeno to come get you. It’ll be best to take the bus back to your studio today, he’d probably make you go home with him and keep you up way too late. His bed may be nicer than yours, sure. His bathroom an actual personal bathroom, and as your ‘boyfriend’ he always makes sure you’re well fed. The grumble your stomach lets out doesn’t go unnoticed, ignoring it as you pick up your phone to shoot off a text message.
‘Really tired. Heading home. See you in the morning.’
Reading over your text before sending it, you chew at dry skin around your nails, dropping your hand quickly as if Jeno’s slapped it down again. He always does, reprimands you whenever you bite your nails or rip the dead skin off with your teeth. He does it because he cares about you, right?
Fuck him. Seriously fuck that asshole.
Pressing your thumb down earnestly, you send the text and shut your phone off, bringing your thumb up to your lip to rip off an annoying piece of skin.
“Shit.” You hiss, shaking off your hand. More came off, opening a wound and stinging around the cuticle. Shining with red blood that rushed to fill up the divots around your nail bed.
Jeno would probably glare at you, raise your thumb to his mouth to suck on. He’d make it hurt less..
Brushing those thoughts aside, you pocket your fingers and tighten your jacket, making your way toward the nearest bus stop. He won’t like that you turned off your phone, he won’t like that you took public transport home instead of waiting for him, he doesn’t like anything really.
Except you..
It’s been a long while since you’ve taken the bus home, and it’s late, mostly empty. It’s hard to not notice a couple curled up in one of the two seaters, laughing at something on a phone together. Sometimes you watch things with Jeno, and you try to keep your amusement at bay, you try to emit nothing other than misery, but it’s become something you secretly look forward to these days..
Why do you keep thinking about him? What if Jisung’s texting you? Glancing at your blacked out phone screen, you wonder if he is, he could be.. Jisung seems to like you. He seems normal..
Normal could be nice.
Normal.
Why can’t you and Jeno be normal? What if you are?
Coming home alone without him by your side seems odd now. This isn’t normal anymore, this isn’t your normal anymore.
Jeno is your normal.
As you crawl into bed and take a deep sigh, you can’t help but to wrap yourself up tighter, curl up into a more fettle helpless position, and you can’t stop the tears that erupt from your eyes until they blur your vision and make your head pound.
He should be here, he should be here to keep you safe and warm, but he’s not, and nothing feels normal anymore.
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･
One thing about Jeno you’ve noticed is that he is always on time. He’s extremely punctual, and if he’s not, he always, without fail, will make sure to alert you with a call or text.
Today’s different.
Because even when you turned your phone on this morning and rubbed sleepy dry tears from your swollen eyes, no notifications from Jeno appeared.
Jisung had sent a few messages, thanking you for a great time and hoping you made it home safe. The last text you sent Jeno hadn’t even been opened, and his read receipts have always been turned on for as long as you’ve known him..
He’ll show up outside of your complex at 8 o’clock on the dot as usual. Maybe he forgot to charge his phone(that’s unlike him).
But 8am comes around, and his car doesn’t round the corner, and minutes tick by, and he doesn’t show up. Each glance at your phone screen feels more like a plea for something, silently begging for a text or call to appear. Something to indicate he’s on his way, maybe traffic is heavier than usual today..
‘Hey. I’m waiting outside.’
You never add emojis. Keep messages as short and simple as you can. It would come across as too nice, too weird given the dynamic of your relationship, but that doesn’t stop your thumb from hovering over a smiley face before hitting send. Shaking it off, you watch the minutes go by, nursing the cut up cuticle you ripped off last night between your lips. If you don’t leave soon to catch the bus you’ll be late.
One more minute, you’ll wait one more minute before running to catch the next bus.
‘Is everything okay?’
What if he got into an accident? Did Jeno even make it home yesterday after dropping you off? What if he’s in a hospital bed somewhere, disfigured, all alone without anyone to keep him company? What are you even thinking right now?!
It doesn’t calm your nerves a bit that he hasn’t opened a single text message you’ve sent. Doesn’t help as you cram onto a crowded bus and worry your thumb down to raw skin, biting every little piece you can get your teeth on. Doesn’t help that you can’t stop glancing at your phone, envisioning each terrible outcome.
He’ll be at school, he’ll be waiting at your lockers and walk you to class, sit by your side as usual. Throw out an assload of compliments that piss you off, stare at you and play with your hair. It’s fine, everything is fine, he’s a good driver. How could he possibly get into an accident? Jeno? Never.
But he’s not waiting at your lockers, even as you stand around longer peering up and down the hallway for him to show up. You can’t ask anyone if they’ve seen him either, it’s not like you know anyone to ask.
He’s not in your first class, doesn’t show up for second period, or third, and your phone never once dings with a new notification.
Even as your names are called out to grab attendance and you silently pray he’ll appear at the classroom door out of breath, finding your surprised gaze on him. A huge smile will stretch his cheeks into a bundle of wrinkles, eyes disappearing when he meets yours.
But that doesn’t happen, and in a panic you send off a slew of text messages, biting your nails down to nothing but raw skin.
‘Is everything okay Jeno? Did your phone die?’
‘I’m at school. Should I meet you for lunch somewhere?’
‘Are you sick?’
There’s no way to explain the fear clawing at your chest, the rumble in your stomach, the ache that pangs through your heart. It’s not because you care about him, he doesn’t deserve that from you, not even out of human decency. But maybe, just maybe, you are worried, because Jeno’s face has become such a normal part of your daily life. His light touches, a gaze that never loses sight of you, a powerful aura that wraps you up behind an invisible shield that makes you feel safe. As insane as it feels to even contemplate, you can’t help it.
He’s a disease, streaming through your blood, destroying all of your white blood cells and leaving you with no option other than to rely on him to survive. Some may even consider that love, if you think about it.
He sought you out in the first place, didn’t he? Took notice of something special in you that clearly no one else does. Like right now as you walk to your locker, head hung low, no one cares. No one’s looking at you, no one notices you or sees you. They always see you when Jeno’s by your side. He’s the bright light that illuminates around you, and you? You’re nothing.
Jeno made you something though. He made you his.
How hasn’t he replied yet?!? What the hell is his problem! You’d scream if you could, that’s how desperate you feel, not even a god damn text? Nothing?!
You could always leave.. take the bus to his house. It’s possible he is severely injured after all, his parents might not even have a clue. It’s the least you can do, at least inform them that their son’s on his deathbed because of a horrific accident. Because that’s the only logical explanation you can fathom for why he hasn’t attempted to contact you even once since yesterday. It’s your fault too, if he really got into a bad car wreck after dropping you off. Yeah, you should definitely take the rest of the day off, it’s the right thing to do..
Adding speed to your steps, you rush toward your locker to grab your bag, prying it open quickly and nearly missing the folded note that slips out. A note.. with very familiar handwriting. A note in your locker after all this time, exactly like the ones you used to receive..
‘It’s been awhile hasn’t it angel? I haven’t felt the need to speak to you like this in such a long time now it seems. We have grown so close now, there are times I catch your gaze wandering away from me. I realize in those moments how much I’ve truly given up for you.
I lost my friends, carry guilt on my back of getting caught; that Haechan will find the courage to snitch me out.. The chance of my father disowning me for ruining his one chance to free himself from this impoverishment. In those moments I know you look away silently praying for someone to save you, when really, it’s been me all along.
I’ve only ever wanted to save you because you deserve better than this. I’m waiting for you, I know you’re smart enough to find your way.
-Your Teddy Bear’
This has to be a sick joke, you fully believe this has to be a sick joke; but your lip twitches, your tongue presses to the fronts of your teeth, and you can feel moisture itching at the backs of your eyes.
Jeno hadn’t picked you up today, he never sent a message to explain why. The last he’d spoken with you was on the car ride over to Jisung’s, and even then you never said much. He hadn’t said much either if you really think back, stay silent for most of the drive.
The last place you want to revisit is room 0423 after that day.
‘I’m waiting for you.’
Stoic and zombie-like your feet drag through the halls finding your way to the abandoned sector of the school. Because he’s waiting, and like a fool you’ve been waiting for him too.
You couldn’t process a thought, mindless as you found your way in front of the door that read 0423 before you. At this point there isn’t much else Jeno can pull to surprise you. Probably planning a setup of some sort to commemorate the day he met you, since it matters to him so much.
“Don’t act shy and stand out there forever, I’m waiting.” His voice echoes through the small opening, leaving the door cracked enough for you to know to come inside.
Everything appears to be the same as you remember, other than the giant teddy bear Jeno gifted you sitting at the teacher's table, his back facing you from where he sits on one of the student desks at the front row.
“Took you long enough to show up. I expected you’d be sick to your stomach without me, buried with your face in a porcelain bowl. Although, I must say, your messages have been quite entertaining.” Jeno begins to speak, his back muscles flexing as he laughs sarcastically. His neck bends forward, nodding to himself. “I won’t lie, I didn’t expect even that much from you. I dare say, you seemed frantic, worried even..”
“Why did you want me to come back here?” You ask softly, inching closer to where he sits. Jeno listens to the sound of your sneakers drag against the linoleum floor, he listens to your calm breath, he listens to your nails scratch by on each desk you pass, and he smiles stiffly.
“You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?” Jeno’s teeth grit, fisting a remote control in his grip. He stands up abruptly in a way that startles you. Instinctively lifting your fists to cover your face as you gasp. Rolling his eyes, he grips onto a curtain near the corner covering up an old school television, and he turns to face you.
If looks could kill, you know that you’d be laid out on the floor bleeding out right now. He bores into you with a laser sharp gaze, slicing through your chest with a level of intensity he’s kept calm for weeks.
“Answer me.”
Jeno’s throat shakes, his knuckles saturated in white, cuts of blood red and hues of pink from punching who knows what or who.. and for a quick second you think he may cry as he rapidly blinks away moisture that’s teetering at the brims of his eyes.
“No Jeno.. I don’t think you’re stupid.”
“I’ve never liked when you lie.” He nods, sniffling loud and hitting play. “You always look dead behind the eyes when you lie, did you know that? Because even you know that deep down inside no matter how much you hate me, lying isn’t your style.”
The black tv screen illuminates, a dim video of sheets that make your eyes squint, familiar..
“Is that—“ the camera zooms out before you can even speculate, cutting off your breath. “N-no—there’s no wa—“
Jeno sneers, dragging the back of his hand across his eyes and nose. He turns the volume up until your pleasured moans resound throughout the classroom, cascading down the walls and your frame like lashings. The camera doesn’t bother to focus on Jisung once, zoomed in on your face, your mouth hung open, the lines formed between your eyebrows.
“H-how..” bile rises up your throat, stepping back until your butt meets the ledge of a desk. There’s no way Jeno could have known, how HOW could he—
“I know what you’re thinking.” He says smoothly, the tears dried up and gone. Spinning on one foot to face you and waved the remote in your direction. “You thought he really liked you, right?”
“N-no it’s n-not that—“
“What did I tell you about lying?” He grite, placating you with a cold hard stare. “I could have saved us the trouble of dealing with any of this. I knew from the second I saw you talking to him in class, I knew from that moment. You looked so happy.” He scoffs, head shaking, pausing the video. “You looked so fucking happy and hopeful, the same way you looked when I saw you talking to Haechan in the library before.”
He takes a deep dramatic breath, tossing the remote aside, arms free to cross over his chest and lock you in place with one of the most fear-inducing looks you’ve ever seen. “You never look at me like that. You never even tell me that you love me, and you pretend..” Jeno shifts back, turning his body away from you. “You pretend to hate me.”
Everything inside of you screams to say something, to tell him that he’s wrong, that you do hate him. But there’s that pain in your chest again, the one that feels worse than any pain you’ve ever felt, worse than when Haechan moved away and slowly forgot about you. Worse than when he ignored you after you had sex..
It’s a pain that only Jeno can pull out of you. It’s denial, hate, love, anger, fear, obsession, worry, and right now, that pain fills you with terror. He knows, and more than worrying about what he’ll do to you, you can’t stop the tears from flowing out at the thought of losing him.
“I-I’m sorr—“
“Stop.” He snaps quickly, fully turning away and motioning to the classroom stock closet. “You can come out now.”
Through your bleary vision, you see him come out, big smile, broad and tall. Cocky as he clasp hands with Jeno and shoots you a wink over his shoulder. “You’ll send me a copy too, right?”
“Get the fuck out.” Jeno jeers, crashing his shoulder into Jisung’s side. “Good job though, the money should be in your account.”
“Yeah of course man, anytime.” He smirks before turning to face you, winking as he makes way to pass by you. “And you, I really did have a good time last night.” He leans it quickly to whisper. “If this weird shit you have going on doesn’t work out, you know where to find me.”
“Please…please!” You stammer, feeling overwhelmed and overheated the longer you have to listen to yourself get fucked through all of this. Every bit of confusion struggles to clear as your mind rages and grows heavy, painfully beating through your skull. “Turn it off! Please!”
Jeno snickers, ripping the TV’s power cord out. “Not that you deserve peace of mind right now.” He mumbles, petting the teddy bear he gifted you on your anniversary. “What were you thinking?”
“I..”
What were you thinking??? Obviously you were thinking that your classmate who you’ve secretly had a small liking for may have a small liking for you in return. There’s nothing else to say, you fell right into Jenoms trap, you always will..
“Don’t answer that.” He says, turning toward you with an unrelenting penetrating gaze. “I know what you were thinking. I always know what you’re thinking.”
He steps closer, trapping you against the desk holding your weight up. Weakness takes over your ankles and knees, dropping head head to hang, too ashamed to even look at him. More embarrassed than ashamed.. why should you feel ashamed?
“You thought a guy like that could seriously like you? What’s it going to take for you to learn this lesson?” Jeno continues, voice cutting deep and sharp. “No one here will ever like you except me. Jisung may pity fuck you out of boredom, but he’d never bring a girl like you home. He’d never take you serious, he’ll never give a real fuck about you.”
“T-this whole time..” you stutter, biting down on your lip. “You k-knew this whole time.”
“Pft.” He bends in to meet you eye level, still standing straight to loom over your slouched frame. “I’m always watching you.”
Jeno’s tongue clicks, whistling lowly, taking a step back to snap his fingers in a sarcastic manner. “You know who else could give a shit about you? Haechan.” He nods, finding your red wet eyes. “Haechan who hasn’t acknowledged your existence ever since that day.”
“N-no..” tremors vibrate up your throat, gripping onto the desk beneath you to keep yourself up. “There’s no way..”
“I had a sliver of hope, you know?” He sighs, rubbing at his temples. “I thought maybe you finally understood that Haechan could give a fuck about whatever it is you used to have. That stupid childhood friendship you cherish and hold onto still.” He pauses to look at you, blinking glassy eyes away. “I can’t trust you, even after all that I do to prove to you that you belong with me.”
“This—this isn’t—“
“Haechan—he’ll never love you, he’ll never see you as anything more than some poor loser from his past.” He interrupts, hissing between his teeth. “Jisung, even fatter chance. I’ve explained this to you so many times now. When will you get it.”
“Why are you doing this to me?!” You screech, louder than you even thought possible. Tears rush towards your chin, digging your nails into the cheap old desk wood. “Why me?!?”
Jeno scoops your face, thumbing your wet cheeks softly, almost gently. His own eyes shake, pouring out from the corners. “Because.” He breathes in deep through his nose, wet voice coming out shattered. “I love you.”
I love you I love you I love you. Those three words repeat over and over again, a face full of anger turning into one you can hardly recognize anymore, fingers dug into your cheeks as if he can somehow force you to believe him this way. It hurts to watch more than anything, as Jeno crumbles and falls to his knees, arms wrapped tight around your hips screaming manically that he loves you.
He. Loves. You.
Haechan doesn’t love you, and a guy like Jisung could never love you..
He’s right. Jeno’s right. He’s been right from the very beginning. You could have listened, avoided all of this? The normalcy you wished to have with him, whatever that could have been.. if it ever could have been.
“Why won’t you love me?!” He sounds broken, distraught, hopeless. The hug around your lower half burns, feels like you’ll never be free, you’ll never get away from him.
You don’t want to get away from him anymore.
“I love you, Jeno..” you can hear your voice empty of life as it exits your lips. The image before you too blurry to even make out past your tear-filled gaze. “I love you.”
The grip on your hips loosens, tears calming to a round of sniffles, he stops shaking and slowly lifts his face to look at you. “Say that again.”
Cold, emotionless, demanding. That’s the tone you’re used to..
“I love you.”
Jeno stands back up, quickly cleaning his eyes off with the heel of his palms. A large smile altering the anger and sadness he just displayed seconds ago. “My Teddy.”
He rambles, words slurred together as you fail to process anything that’s just happened. Could this have ever been normal? Or is this simply who Jeno is? He’s obsessive, crazed, dominant and deranged.
“I know you love me.” He sighs happily, tugging you in close and rubbing along your spine. “I knew when you made Jisung put on a condom.”
The way spit clogs up your throat at that makes you choke on your next breath, Jeno’s laugh rumbling against your chest as he pats your back to help you. “I thought so after you made Haechan use one, but this really confirmed it. You wanted to hurt me, wanted to make me jealous..” his voice lowers, shifting to whisper in your ear. “But deep down inside you know I’m the only one you want to fuck you full of cum.”
There’s no point in questioning anything, you know he hates when you do that. You know that he has ways to find out things that you can’t begin to understand. “I know baby, that’s why I had to replace your prescription too. Those mints you always popped in your mouth after eating lunch. It’s cute how you play these little mind games with me..”
Mints?! The birth control you started taking after.. that first time. You knew he was evil, mentally deranged, but fucking your with medication?!
“M-my mints??” You ask in disbelief, having to bite down on the backs of your teeth to stop your jaw from hanging.
Jeno waves a finger at you, tapping your nose. “I don’t believe in that birth control shit.”
And there it is, the same Jeno you became familiar with in this very room. The same one that turns your dreams into nightmares, that makes you look over your shoulder constantly, the one that’s imprisoned you in this inescapable hell.
“It’s cute how you still think you can out-smart me.” He says sternly, pinching your chin. “But nothing about your constant lying is cute.”
He leans in close, eyes wide open taking in your despair, licking up the tears that seem endless. Everything, all of this, you were never going to win. Winning was never an option.
“You’re so special to me.” Sucking at the droplets dangling from your chin, he nips up your jaw to swallow your earlobe. “So special and real, remind me so much of him. Who he used to be.”
Because that’s really what this all boils down to. You never willingly fell for Jeno’s charms the way everyone else does, he had to force this, and even then you didn’t give. You held on to the last bits of yourself that remained raw and real, you chose to love and accept who you are even when he diminished your worth. And that drove him crazy, tickled him in places he forgot existed, reignited those memories of who his best friend once was.
“I love you.” Jeno repeats, whispering just for you, not that anyone could even hear your screams here from room 0423. No one heard you the last time, no one helped, no one cares.
“I love you too.” The tears that pour down from your upper lip could come across as tears of joy. From an outsider's point of view this could look like the happiest moment of your life. Sharing confessions of love with your boyfriend, a handsome young man who can only be described as obsessed with you, but they aren’t happy tears; and as Jeno grins, squatting down to scoop you up, you have to swallow the rancid bile rising up your throat. Laid back down on the same desk he first had his way with you on, the same place he made you shut up and take it.
It’s crazy and out of body when Jeno’s palms drag down your sides, unbutton your top and reaches under your back to unhook your bra. He’s done it many times, it’s muscle memory at this point removing your clothes. Each small drag of his fingertips feel more chilling, crashing waves of shock throughout your system. Even as he strips you nude and licks down your inner thighs you lay there stoic, gaze unwavering from where he stands between your legs taking time to stroke over your figure.
“What’re you thinking about teddy?” He coos, kissing along the tender skin lining your inner thigh. “You look like a lot is going on inside that pretty head..”
What are you thinking? You’re not thinking much of anything. Unable to process a singular thought as you watch him bend in and kiss down the center of your sternum, trailing down to your navel. There’s nothing else you can say right now, nothing else you want to say as tears collect and spill over, running down to your ears.
“I missed you, I missed you so much.”
Jeno slowly cranes his head up to find your tear-filled gaze, he slowly reaches to cup your face, slowly smiles. It all seems too slow in comparison to the breakdown you’re having. Shaking down to the tips of your fingers and toes, body wracked with sobs as he sits you up and thumbs at your wet cheeks.
“Did you sweetheart? You missed me?”
“Y-yes!” You cry out watery, throwing your arms around his waist to pull him in close between your thighs. “You left me, you didn’t come. You always pick me up, you’re always there.”
Jeno falls silent, basking in your misery, savoring the wash of success that rains down on him. He’s broken you, dropped each piece of the puzzle only to reassemble it the way he wants. Broken, fixed, he did that, made you his and only his. His hands reach under your top, stroking up your spine and cooing in your ear. “I’m always there, I’ll always be there.”
That’s his promise, that he’ll always be there for you. He’ll always watch out for you, even if it’s not in the traditional romantic way you’d dreamt of as a child. It’s still special, you’re still special to him. And that’s enough, that’s really enough. Because your body calms down, and your nose finds comfort in his clean scent, eyes falling shut as you begin to relax under his touch.
He straightens out to kiss your cheeks, smooth your hair away from your face and take in the sadness streaked across your iris. It’s sadness with a hint of hope, a hint of something he’s never noticed before. You’re finally looking at him like he means something to you, and that makes Jeno’s chest swell. Heart beating rapidly as he leans in to catch your lips and suck on each until they blister under his bites.
He never kisses you softly when you’re alone, and maybe you like that. He’s passionate and rough, takes control of your mouth and tastes through every little crevice inside. He always tastes good and lingers on your tongue for hours throughout the day, but you like that. You need to feel him, smell him, taste him, belong to him. You need him to remind you of who you belong to when you start to stray and seek attention from anyone else.
“Would you hurt me?” You asked him before, and as your eyebrows crush together while kissing him you have to ask again. Because Haechan hurt you, he hurt you so bad. Jisung hurt you, he hurt you more than he’ll ever know. But Jeno.. he can’t hurt you. If he ever hurt you, there’s no way to predict what you’d do..
“Only if you hurt me.” He says in a serious tone, pulling back to look in your eyes. “You won’t, not anymore. You love me.”
“I—I do, I love you.”
It’s final, it’s your love story. Here in room 0423, the school you worked hard to get into, the scholarship you stayed up late day and night putting in extra credit for. All of that led to this moment in time with Jeno. Led you to your destiny, to the man that loves you.
“I know teddy, I’ve always known.” Taking your hands, he kisses down your fingers from the tips, spending extra time on your knuckles, turning them to drag his lips over your palms. “I have plans for us, our future.”
Plans. Future. Whatever that means.. you’re just happy to be here with him. To let him place your hands on his cock, laugh quietly at the way your fingers can barely wrap around him. “You’d never ask me to wear a condom.” He mumbles. He’s proud of that, says it in a boisterous tone.
“Never.” You agree solemnly.
That’s the best part of this victory. You were never a simple one time fuck, you were always meant to be more. He had to break you down beyond whatever voided space sex could fill, had to ensure your only need in life should ever be him.
It’s easier to lift your legs up and prop your feet on the desk, fully exposing your core. You still whimper and hide your face, still give off a facade of not wanting it.
He wants you to watch, see every second of him filling you up from inside out. To know that your body belongs to him, that he made you this way. He slaps your thighs to get you to hold yourself open, grabbing onto the base of his cock to stroke. Free hand finding your hair to ball up in his grip and keep your neck bent down. “Want my cock sweetheart?”
Jeno shakes you by the tuft of hair in his hold, nodding your head up and down. “I know the small little dicks you let fuck you weren’t shit.”
The way your hips stutter at that and wet arousal bubbles from your hole makes his cock twitch, inching closer to pick up a dollop of your slick, spreading it up to your clit with the tip of his length.
Thankful for the rubber sole of your shoes keeping your feet in place, you moan, biting it down still out of habit. His cock is nice, thick, covered in large projected veins. The fat pink tip dips in past your clenched hole, forcing a gushing wet sound to echo throughout the classroom. It should be humiliating but your body says otherwise, squeezing out more of your arousal with each teasing prod of his cock.
He plays with you like that for a while, to get you desperate and needy the way he likes. Cockhead probbing in and out enough for the mass of his bulbous tip to disappear inside of you.
“J-Jeno..”
That’s it, that’s what he likes to hear. That shattered little way you say his name. He bends in again to lick your cheek clean, dragging his lips to your ear. “Don’t take your eyes off my cock, if you do I won’t be nice.”
That’s how he talks to you, none of that lovey dovey shit when you don’t actually want it. He talks to you like you’re dumb, like you need to be told what to do, and sometimes you do. Times like these when you relinquish all control of yourself and let him turn you into a puppet, you need to be told to speak and listen, to watch and enjoy. He’s good at that, at making you feel small when you need to.
Weakly nodding, you scoot back to get a better grip on the backs of your upper thigh, hold yourself fully open for him. It’s commemorative being here like this again, on this desk, watching him begin to slowly push his fat girth in.
His hands travel down to hold your cunt open, making it stretch even more as you take and take. It always hurts a little bit trying to take all of his length at once, a good hurt, the type the tingles from the end of your spine to your brain. Watching it split you open this up close makes the pain even more surreal, drooling from your mouth like a starved animal. Pussy drooling around his cock the more he buries in, skin pulled taut around the thick shaft.
“Do you see?” Jeno says deep and raspy, pushing in more than half of his mass already. He fingers your clit for a minute, watching your hole convulse around him. “See how damn good you take it baby? You’re so good for me.”
“Unnghhh..” you wanna kick your legs out, throw yourself on him, wrap your arms around his neck. You have to wait, be patient and watch the rest of his size push in. “S-so big.”
“Was made for you.” He says clearly, through the fog clouding your ears. “Was made to fuck you teddy, that’s why I feel so good inside of you. We’re perfect for each other.”
Hearing that makes you brain melt, dropping your head to hang only for Jeno to wrap around your throat and lift your head up, burning you with his fierce gaze.
“When you kissed Haechan,” his hands constraint around your neck, jerking your head to look at him. “Was your body still screaming for me? Is that why you missed me?”
When he says he knows everything about you he really means it. Down to the infestation of emotions crushing your soul everyday. He knows you’ll never be able to recover from what he’s put you through, you’ll always be addicted, crawling like a fiend for the next hit.
“You were thinking of me, that’s it right? With your lips pressed tightly up against his skin.” He says in the most condescending tone, dragging the tips of his fingers up your jaw while keeping a tight clasp around your throat. “Was he even worth the fuck?”
In the end, he wasn’t, your eyes tell Jeno everything he needs to know. The ache and lust, pangs of guilt muddled between. “Did he fuck you like this?”
The rest of his length sinks in, thrusting in the fat base of his cock ruthlessly, nearly losing your balance if not for the chokehold he has you in. “He’d never fuck you like this, not the way you need. Nobody ever will.”
To drive it home he pulls out completely, making your pussy gape wide open and dribble a wad of wetness out that spills onto the classroom floor. You want to agree with him, tell him that he’s right, that he’s the only one that will ever fulfill your needs now, coughing and blubbering your whimpers as you try to inhale. He fucks into you like a rabid feral wolf, plunging his cock in and out all the way to hear your gurgled scream. It hurts it hurts it hurts, it hurts so fucking good.
The more animalistic he becomes, the more your skin drips with sweat, straining to keep yourself in this position on the desk. Legs more like jelly as your feet begin to slip and your ass slides forward. Jeno only pummels into you faster, determined to rip through your womb, leave a mark on your cervix.
He grunts wildly, releasing your neck abruptly to wrap around your waist and cup your ass right as you nearly fall off the desk. Each thrust inside feels more erratic than the last, diving his cock in deeper than you’ve ever felt anything reach. He’s relentless, growling through it all, exerting power and anger as he hoists you up by your ass and your legs wrap around his hips limply.
“Fuck my baby into you.” He grunts furiously, throwing your body up and down on his cock. Hand prints bloom on your throat, dropping your head back to let out a howling moan, crying out for only Jeno to save you now. For Jeno to do whatever he wants with you.
Your cries has him laying you back on the desk, needing to see for himself how broken and pathetic you look. Hauling your thighs to wrap around him securely to not lose an inch of warmth blanketing his length. He pounds in balls deep, the clap of his sack meeting your ass resounding throughout the room wet and loud, making your legs tremble with each barreling thrust.
“Yeah? Fuck you full of my kids.” He growls, reaching for your shoulders to really lose it on you. Jerking back up the desk by each violent smack of his hips crashing down on you. It’s the crazed look in his eyes that hurdles you back into the last time, catching the faded sound of your pleading, of your denial. Screaming out no no! Over and over again, only for him to ignore you, have his way and ruin you for anyone else.
“P-please—“ you cry, squeezing around his meaty girth as much as you’re able to, feet dangling bonelessly behind him. “P-please, make me y-yours.”
It could have been this way last time, wanting him to have you instead of begging him to stop. It could have been normal, but the two of you were never destined for that. You were meant to be his as much as he was made to be yours. The wet smack of his balls turns messy, the looming broad frame mounting you losing his composure as you look up at him and more tears trail down your cheeks.
“You always look prettiest when you cry.” Jeno grits out, falling down against you to slam home a few more jerky thrusts. Cock spurting out enough cum to surely knock you up, pushing it in deep with each digging swivel of his hips and he grabs onto your chin and laps your hot cheek clean of tears.
“Might have to keep getting you pregnant after this..” he mumbles, kissing the swell of your lips. “Fuck your ass in the mean time while you’re knocked up. I know how my teddy likes it..”
It’s hot and sticky between your bodies, nodding slowly at what he says, you suck on his thumb until both of you have calmed and caught your breath.
He’s not just inside of you, he’s seeping from your pores, infiltrating your nervous system, tearing you open from inside out. Each exhausted breath he takes lines up to yours, blinking simultaneously, twitching through the aftershocks of your orgasm at the same time. He’s yours, and you are his. One soul, one heart, one love combining you.
“I love you.” He pants, reaching between your sweaty bodies to smooth his palm over your extended stomach, bulging out with his cock lodged in so deep. “I love us.”
Jeno did more than ruin your life. He destroyed everything you’ve worked hard for. Shattering your hopes and dreams, demolishing any type of independence you strived to achieve, he stripped all those dreams away.
He’s your new dream.
“I love you too.”
He hums, shifting to bracket your head with his biceps, littering gentle kisses across your wet tear-stained cheeks. “I know teddy, I know.”
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･
There are many ways you envisioned the future. Flying cars, trains that can get you from one side of a state to another at the speed of light, maybe even actual superheroes.
You can even recall sitting side by side with Haechan reading Uzumaki after the fight you had that brought you into each other’s lives in the first place. If you hadn’t wanted to read that damn manga so bad, if you had just shown up at the comic book store any other day. He had sat there with you, thigh pressed to yours, bangs too long and shabby, flicking up with each blink.
You thought it was nice, to like a boy, to have a crush. It was nice to go home and giggle while brushing your teeth, sent off to dream after your mom tucked you in. Haechan had appeared, the Haechan he’d grow up to be someday. The Haechan you wanted him to be someday, but the thing about dreams is they’re silly.
“I don’t believe in dreams.” Jeno says behind you, zipping up the back of your dress. “There’s more power in manifestation.”
But dreams are manifestations if you think about it, and while you dreamt of the future with Haechan, you remember it had been just like Uzumaki.
Spirals had begun to sprout up in the small town around you, driving everyone insane. Infecting each inch of surface and land, and you, you reached for Haechan as he escaped the swarm of spirals. You screamed, shouted, pleaded for him to grab a hold of your hands and save you.
And then you woke up, sitting up in your childhood bed feeling a sense of dread.
“I manifested you.” Jeno kisses your nape, fixing your hair into place. “My Teddy.”
No. He didn’t. That’s what you want to say, to let him know. He didn’t manifest you, you let him in years ago when Haechan stood there in your dream. Watched you get swallowed up by the spirals, the exact same way he watched Jeno swallow you whole. He did nothing then, he did nothing now, exactly like your dream.
It’s been a week now since you last went to class. A week now since you moved out of your studio apartment, Jeno reminding you that ‘That shithole is no place for my soon-to-be wife to live.’ as he drove you to a new apartment. Furnished, never lived in, a great view of the city, and two bedrooms.
‘Until I’ve saved up enough for a house, this will be perfect for our little family.’
He kisses your forehead and held you close, admiring the scenery outside of your bedroom window. ‘You’ll never have to worry about anything again.’
Don’t ask questions, don’t worry, just trust him.
Because he knows you’d never handle the truth without a fight. The anonymous threats he holds over Haechan’s father’s head, the thousands of dollars he’s set aside just to get you away from your childhood friend. It’s all been a part of his plan, and thankfully it worked. Of course it did, everything works out for Jeno.
“We won’t stay out too late.” Jeno smiles, reaching over to the passenger seat to tweak your chin. “You look so fucking cute in that costume.”
“I feel fat.” You mumble, poking at your exposed stomach.
“Don’t start.” He tuts, slapping your hand away. “You look like my fluffy cute teddy.”
You really do. Wearing fluffy round ears on your head, fuzzy tan brown bralette and matching shorts with a puffed tail attached. Jeno held up the costume with a huge smile, tossing it your way only a few hours ago and letting you know to get ready for a Halloween party tonight.
His costume seemed much more simple, nothing more than a Michael Meyers face mask and his usual attire. Tight black tee, fitted dark wash jeans, combat boots, studded leather belt.
You look really good too Jeno.
That’s what you wanted to say, especially after the last few weeks of falling asleep in the same bed together. You really really really wanted to say it, to tell him he looks hot, sexy, devastatingly attractive.
You say nothing though, following along with his arm around your shoulder through a throng of partygoers dancing around in their fun costumes. Fairies, iconic characters, Barbies, Bratz Dollz, cops and robbers. It’s fun really, your first Halloween party, your first Halloween party with your boyfriend.
“Water?” He hands you a cup of clear liquid, ignoring the bottles of alcohol lined up atop the kitchen counter of whoevers house this is.
“Thanks.”
He nods, directing you to a long winding staircase leading you up to an enormous hallway entrance. Rich people of course, luxurious decor, expensive paintings, every inch of this place spotless surely thanks to a 24 hour live-in maid service.
“There’s still one last thing I need to fix for you.”
Jeno walks backward, facing you with that blank faced mask on, arms prominent and flexed in the confines of his tight shirt. “That’s why we’re here Teddy.”
What could that even mean? One last thing to fix for you. Nothing can be fixed anymore.
“Come here baby.” It’s dark up here, darker in the room he tugs you inside of, immediately pinning your body to the wall, digging his fingers into your waist. “How am I supposed to keep my hands off of you?” He grunts, turning you around to press your breasts to the wall, stroking your hair aside to kiss your nape and toy with the leather choker there.
He says that offhandedly sometimes while you’re lazing around in bed after waking up. It’s so hard to keep his hands off of you, he has no idea how he’ll manage once you give birth.
That’s why you’re here, surprised he even bothered to find a room to hide you away in. Among the many things Jeno likes, he loves to show you off, love for everyone to know you are his.
He doesn’t waste time to strip your panties off, dropping them to your ankles to squeeze your ass with his heavy thick palms. Holding you apart to watch your wrinkled rim flinch and tighten up. “Not tonight sweetheart. Gotta fuck your pretty pussy, you know that. Have to make sure your womb stays full.”
He still runs a thumb across your rim, just to watch your hips jut back, so needy.
“Stay still okay?” Jeno says sweetly, pointing to the door. “And don’t look away.”
He steps back for a minute, letting the cool air circulating around the room roll shivers up your back, chewing on your lip in anticipation.
You think you hear a click, something else familiar that you can’t exactly put your finger on before the warmth of his body returns and presses against you.
“Now where were we? My poor teddy, already making a mess.” He whispers against the shell of your ear, hand slipping between your thighs to rub the wetness around that's smeared down. “Should I fuck you now? Make my teddy feel real good?”
“Y-yes..” you whine, keeping your gaze locked on the door like he commanded. It’s not good to disobey Jeno, and you don’t intend to.
“Beg for it better than that..” the weight of his size smacks against your ass, hot and heavy. Letting you know he’s fully hard and ready to fuck. “Come on.”
“Please Jeno.. wanna feel f-full..” you do your best to sound sweet, docile and small. Anything to not spend another minute without him inside of you.
“Is that all I am to you? A big cock to get yourself off on? Huh?” He seeps between your thighs, gripping onto your hips firmly. Rocking his hips forward, the clap of his skin hitting the perk of your ass resounds. Your skin sticky from body shimmer and lotion, moistening up as he ruts between your thighs.
“N-no.. love you, love your cock too.” You whimper, having to bite down on your hand to not scream when he slaps your hip and lets out a deep pleased grunt.
“That’s what I like to hear sweetheart.” Without bothering to warn you, he pushes in, pausing a little more than halfway only to savor the wet trickle of arousal drenching his length. “Fuck, that’s how much you love my cock? Dripping this fucking much already.”
“Yesyesyes!” You nod into your hand, bumping your head against the wall. Biting down harder on your fingers as impending screams rise up your throat. Muffling the one that breaks free when he pushes into the hilt.
Jeno’s cock always feels like the first time everytime, so big and fucking thick. Penetrating deep in ways that don’t even seem humanly possible. He always makes you cum, makes you want to go again even when your body needs a break.
“L-love h-how full you m-make me!” You blabber, reaching to grab onto the wall as he builds up speed and starts to thrust faster. Palms slide up your waist to fuck you the way he wants, pulling out to the tip each time and diving the entirety of his length right back in to really make you feel and take every inch.
“You love it?! You love me?” He growls, sliding one hand lower to find your clit before you’re able to respond. He knows you’ll choke on your next words, making your pussy gush out more around him as he rams up and fucks you vigorously. “Answer me!”
“Yes yes! I love you!” You wail, bounced up and down fiercely. The angle placing the tip of his cock right under your navel. “Ah! Ah f-fuck!”
“Yeah, keep fucking saying that sweetheart.” He roars, biting at your shoulder, swiping your clit side to side. Thin fingers play you like a fiddle, stroking and pinching your clit until you’re clenching around him. Toes pointed off the ground, neck tossed back in ecstasy.
Jeno reaches so deep, he fills you up so so good, he stretches you open in a way you’ve become addicted to. Clawing at the wall on the brink of your orgasm, chanting repetitive begging between your moans. He eats it all up, groans against your skin, shoving his mask off as the door opens.
“That’s it Teddy,” fisting your hair, he shoves your cheek against the wall, maneuvering your face toward the stream of light that enters. “Milking my cock so fucking good.”
Haechan’s eyes meet yours, wide and bewildered, quickly scanning from Jeno back to you. “Cum for me, let him see how you really take it baby. Show that bitch who you fucking love.”
It hurts. The pleasure between your thighs taking over your lower half as your heart pinches and aches, the two powerful emotions crashing head to head. And Jeno thrusts in hard, swiping his fingers rapidly along the sides of your clit until you’re crying out, slapping the wall with a shout.
“That’s my girl, that’s my fucking girl.” He rasps behind you, cupping your face to bite down on your jaw. Through your dazed euphoria you think that’s your broken voice spewing out a song of IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou, eyes rolled back as the cool chill washes away from your skin with an overwhelming wave of heat.
Jeno sport’s the biggest and most wicked smile, watching Haechan’s face fall. The last thing his old best friend could snatch away from his life, successfully crushing the relationship you ever had with him. He watches his old friend back away disgusted, and he cums, filling you with a hot stream of white, exclaiming how much he loves you.
“Love you so much baby,” he’s never sounded so honest, so enthralled and at ease. Drawing your waist back with his ripped arms, wrapping a safe hold around you to keep your limbless body against his. “Love you enough to give you my baby.”
His palms glide down, ending in their new favorite spot right beneath your navel. Kissing up your neck softly, murmuring about the future. “You’ll never be able to get rid of me now Teddy. We’re one now, you and I.”
There’s a hint of threat laced in his words, gently petting the area where he’s imagined a small bump will begin to show soon.
They day you met Haechan and lost him broke your heart. The day you met Jeno turned your life upside down, discovered the shattered pieces and put them back together again, finally showing you what you’ve always secretly wished for.
“I love you Jeno.”
“I know.”
#jeno smut#lee jeno smut#nct dream smut#nct smut#kpop smut#haechan smut#lee haechan smut#park jisung smut#jisung smut#nct dream fanfiction#neopuppy fics#nct fanfiction#kpop fanfiction#haechan fanfic#jisung fanfic#nct dream x reader#nct x reader
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since childhood!!
you meet as childhood friends
~feat. twst housewardens~
~twisted wonderland x gender neutral reader~
warnings: reader is not yuu/prefect and is different for each imagine to fit the setting of the boys (ex: reader is fae in malleus', merfolk in azul's, etc.)
if you want more childhood-like fics, i wrote one with ace and jack linked here!
♡the child you meet at a playground and never see again♡
Riddle Rosehearts couldn’t even remember how or when you had joined him, Trey, and Che’nya in their daily time playing outside the nearby neighborhood. He just knew that once he had stepped outside that day—sneaking out of his home during his study time—you, a strange, new child, had been mindlessly throwing a ball to Trey, giggling in the process. Any outsider passing by could have sworn you‘d already known the young trio for years. Odd, but the boy found himself not objecting to your time spent with him and his friends. You were somehow very comfortable to speak with, and Riddle couldn’t help but find your playfulness intriguing.
“Ha! I win again!” you jumped up and cheered with Trey and Che’nya sitting in a small circle as all three of you held up your hands in exhilaration.
“Congratulations,” Trey said, returning a proud smile. Resting on a grass-filled hill, the three of you helped yourselves to pass the time with a simple game that lasted longer than expected, if you all were to be honest. Riddle—insisting to only observe for the round—caught sight of the way your competitiveness mixed with Trey’s insightfulness and Che’nya’s natural wit. It was interesting. The way you easily conversed with everyone despite only meeting hours ago, he means.
“Hey, red-head!” you then called out to the young boy watching from afar, “Do you wanna play now? I can teach you the basics; It’s really just a hand game.”
Riddle contemplated for a second until walking closer to join the group, “... I suppose I’ll join.”
“Great!” you beamed, “The game’s called Concentration. Basically, we pick a category and all four of us have to go around taking turns saying a word that matches that specific category. Like if it was, for example, colors, then we all could say things like blue, orange, red—you get the gist of it.”
A nod then came from the red-headed child who was now seated next to you.
“The catch, though,” you continued, “is that you cannot at all hesitate when it’s your turn. So no pausing before speaking. This game’s supposed to be quick and fast. Got it?”
“I’m sure I do—?”
“Good! Let’s start.” With a swift clap of your palms, the game had begun as Riddle was practically pushed into the game with your excitement. Truthfully, he had not the faintest clue as to what he had been doing, but he supposed there was no harm in simply trying, yes?
“Hmmm, the category for this round, then, would be…” you squinted your eyes, appearing to be deep in thought, “Desserts! Go!”
“Vanilla cake,” Trey began.
“Truffles~” sang Che’nya.
“Strawberry tarts,” Riddle quickly replied.
“Crap!”
Crap?
“All this dessert talk made me remember that my parents wanted me to turn off the oven before ever going out! They’re really gonna kill me this time, I just know it!” you panicked as you suddenly explained your predicament, scrambling from the ground to get back up on your feet, “I gotta go, guys! Bye!”
“And don’t think any of you won just yet! It’s a draw until I say so!” you hollered out to the three boys as you left each of them bewildered and confused. Now only being able to see the back of your running form, Riddle found that, just as you had first met them that day, you had similarly disappeared with a clap of your hands like a ghost of a light at midnight.
Riddle wondered if he’d ever see you again. Sevens, he didn’t even get to catch your name.
♡the friend you sneak out with♡
“Why are you so slow? Get moving! I’ve seen sloths move faster than you, dumbo.”
The young Leona Kingscholar, having heard the ceaseless comments coming from your also young form, gave you a classic deadpan only he could display so perfectly within the empty gardens of the Kingscholar palace. No soul had been there as the only living creatures that remained were the critters chirping their music into the night and breeze of the gardens speaking back with delicacy. That, and everyone else within the grandiose palace had been rooms away, probably swaying to whatever music the Kingscholars had orchestrated for the ball that would take place that day.
“Yeah, well why don’t you quiet down a bit, hm? You’re hurting my eardrums,” the boy replied, rubbing his left ear in annoyance. For the amount of times you both had snuck off with each other, Leona had thought you would have caught on to the main rule of sneaking out: remaining as quiet as possible until it was safe to speak.
You’ve gotta be kidding me, the chocolate-haired boy thought.
Playfully poking at his side, you began an attempt to tease him even just for a little bit, “Aw, does the little kitty not like it when he hears my oh-so-wonderful voice?”
“Yeah. It’s obnoxious.”
“Hey—!”
“Shhhh!” Leona, albeit quite swiftly, suddenly placed a firm hand against your mouth, causing you both to halt in place behind an unassuming stone wall, “I think the guards are coming…”
Your heart began to race with anticipation. If the palace guards had managed to catch you two escaping a chance to socialize at a royal event, you would never hear the end of it from your families. “... Do you hear them?” a worried whisper mumbled from your nervous figure.
“Mhm, could you keep watch over here?” the boy said as he bent down on his knees, concealing himself whilst facing the other direction, “I’ll go look on the other side.”
Trusting your dear—and sometimes reliable—friend, you peeked your head out from the wall, keeping watch just as Leona said to do. The gardens had been practically deserted; a stillness in the way the gentle wind blew past the branches had almost convinced you that there was, indeed, no one there.
Was he just… seeing things? you questioned. But your beastman friend would never, right? His senses were probably a thousand times more intuitive than yours. He’d never make such an obvious mistake.
“Uhm, Leona? I don’t think I see any—” you started as your small hand reached out to tap the boy, but not without noticing the way he had been draped against the wall, seemingly knocked-out unconscious as a barely even noticeable drop of drool spilled from his snoring mouth.
“Leona, you lazy wimp!!”
♡the friend you see at one specific place♡
“Are you done yet?”
“No, (Y/n), I am not,” a young octopus-like boy stated as he simultaneously juggled numerous books and papers on all ten of his limbs, particularly focused on the words written on each page. He sat on his own within a shadow-crested octopus pot and looked as if he had not come out of the pot in ages, you observed. Concerning, but nothing new, you thought. “And I won’t be done until far later,” he said, scrunching his face together, “What do you want?”
You mindlessly began poking at a piece of coral, paying no mind to the boy’s slight sass to his tone. “Nothing~ I just thought I could find you here. Turns out I was right.” You watched as Azul helped himself to another book from his rather tall pile, closing another to add to his collection. “Studying again, I see,” a knowing look then escaped your form as your eyes lit with a teasing shine, “Plotting something against me, Azul?”
“I wouldn’t rule out the possibility,” he replied halfheartedly, “Especially if you keep coming here to disturb me.”
You exclaimed, feigning offense, “Never! I’m simply keeping you company.” The boy then peered up to you as you swam closer to him, reminiscing the earlier days of your friendship. “I still remember the first time I saw you here, crying on your own. The growth you’ve had since that day really is admirable—“
“Enough,” Azul shot you an annoyed glare, “It was already unfortunate for you to first meet me as tears welled from my eyes; there’s no need to sugarcoat the memory.”
Jumping at Azul’s assumptions, you worriedly began to amend any insecurities that struck the young boy beside you. “I’m not sugarcoating anything! And crying in front of me that day was nothing to be ashamed of. If I hadn’t heard your voice coming from the pot, I would’ve never come back here each day, let alone know of your existence in the first place.” You let your palm reach forward to hold his—quite soft—face, allowing your innocent touch to spread to him. “You have grown. But it’s okay to cry too, okay?”
“Alright,” Azul mumbled, face still remaining in your small hands. “Anyway,” he continued as he pulled away from your arms, “do you plan on returning home soon? Your family may worry.”
“No, it’s fine,” you shrugged as a soft ocean current moved past the locks of your hair, “I’ll stay here.”
“You don’t have to—“
“I want to.”
Azul had gazed back at you, almost stunned. “If that is what you wish, then be my guest,” he complied.
You then gave him a gentle smile, “Of course.”
♡the friend you find when you are lost♡
“(Y/n)~! Wait for me!” Kalim said, hollering out to your speeding figure under the golden glow of the Scalding Sands as shadows of the plentiful buildings stretched out with the lowering evening sun. What time it exactly was, you did not know. All you had known was that there was still an ample amount of time for you and your new friend, Kalim, to explore the world around you—seeing as the young boy was just as excited as you.
“The town waits for no one, Kalim! It was made for adventure!” you shouted back behind you, almost leaving the white-haired boy for the dust if he had not caught up sooner. “If there’s one thing you should know about this place, it’s that! Or…” a thoughtful pause then cut between your rambles as you stopped in your tracks, “That’s what my grandparents always tell me, at least. Who knows.”
Kalim—who was now standing beside you—then gave you a grin that could send rays of sunshine to shame with its brightness, “Jamil always tells me to never venture to the town, though; maybe he just doesn’t know the kinds of fun that await here!”
“Eh, I know I’ve never met the kid,” warily, your hand began to reach for your other in concern for your newfound companion, “but this Jamil dude doesn’t sound too… fun.”
“Of course he is, he’s my friend!”
“I know he is, but look at us!” you said as you threw your arms up in the air, exclaiming, “We just met today after I saw you wandering off into Sevens knows where, but we still have fun! Jamil, on the other hand, sounds like he stops you from any kind of fun. What kinda friend does that?”
Kalim, still seeming to be unfazed by your concerns as he let out a laugh, shot you his millionth smile of that day, “He means well!”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” you muttered. “Anyway, enough of that! There’s this really cool area in the alleyways I know that’s perfect for—”
“Kalim!” an unknown voice was then heard not too far from the both of you, “Where have you been?!”
“Jamil! There you are!” the young boy to your left called out to the voice as the mysterious figure treaded closer and closer—but not without you tensing up with caution. “This is my new friend—” Kalim started, cheerily pointing towards you.
“I deeply apologize, but there’s just no more time to waste,” the unknown figure, who you now saw had long locks of dark hair, paid no mind to you as he fretted over your giggling friend, “You’re lucky our families haven’t realized you were gone just yet or I’d never hear the end of it. Come, now. We have to get back quickly.”
“Oh, okay!” Kalim swiftly replied as he waved back enthusiastically to you, “I’ll see you again, (Y/n)!”
Yelling your final goodbyes, you saw as the forms of the two children around your age hastily walked back to wherever their home resided, silhouettes following after with the sky setting in front of them.
Although despite the day concluding on its own, you never could understand why Kalim’s friend, Jamil, was so protective over him. Sure, you thought, the young boy could be a tad oblivious at times—that you could admit—but going so far as to act as a caretaker for the boy as opposed to being a friend? It’s not like Kalim was the son of a very impactful family that needed protection. He’s just a normal kid for Seven’s sake!
Right?
♡childhood rivals♡
Vil Schoenheit had had enough.
Why out of all the students who attended this dance studio, he had to be partnered with you? The young boy had always thought this, what with you two being dance partners despite the clear friction between the both of you since he could remember. The only reason Vil had ever found himself tolerating it was because of the sole fact of your dance instructor’s judgment. You were talented, he reluctantly admitted. And rehearsing with you out of all people would only benefit his own skills in the arts if he ever wished to get anywhere with his strive for perfection.
The pursuit of beauty knows no bounds, Vil thought as he adjusted the strap stabilizing his dance shoes.
“Vil!” a familiar—but scour inducing—voice then intruded on the boy’s preparation as he turned his face to look at your a-little-too-cheery-for-his-taste form. “It’s so nice to see that you’ve made it to today’s lesson! I remember you were absent last week because of an important commercial shooting, yes? We all missed your…” you halted yourself, unnecessarily emphasizing your words as if to discredit the compliments coming from your mouth, “treasured talent.”
Vil scoffed at your empty sweetness. “I’m sure you did, (Y/n).” The young actor tilted his chin up as if to search for his own thoughts while doing his best to cover the glare he dearly wished to give you at that moment, “Although, you’ll be out next week too, correct? I hear you’ve been casted in a children’s show as a special guest.” The blond-haired child then turned back to the straps of his shoes, mumbling to himself, “... That I also had auditioned for.”
Feigning ignorance to his bitterness, you continued carrying on the conversation with your precious dance partner—relishing the way he stared at you with envy at your obtained role in the process. “Ah, yes. Well, as you know, showbiz is showbiz, Schoenheit. Not all of us will get what we want,” you gave him a smile he could only read as a way to anger him even more. “Perhaps we’ll both be casted next time. That would be wonderful, would it not?”
“Indeed.”
A single clap from your instructor was enough for the entire studio to grow quiet, signaling the start of class as students began rushing to their places, “Alright, class, it’s time to begin! Places!”
You gave your partner a final grin as the room was filled with music to go with your warm up, “Don’t trip today, Schoenheit.”
“As if I ever would, (L/n).”
♡online friends who’ve never met♡
With technology constantly surrounding him, it was only natural for Idia to have met you in the online world. Where else would a shut-in like himself find some sort of social interaction he'd actually be willing to be a part of?
Gloomurai: korie! u wanna hop on midnite l8ter? live event drops tday
korie66: ayooooo
korie66: im down. lez do it >:)
Gloomurai: nice
Gloomurai: korie and gloomurai back at it again
Although, he supposed he didn't really know you. Sure, he knew the artificially curated version you would introduce yourself as within the chat logs on public servers. But he had never known the "IRL" version of you, let alone your real name. Still—Idia thought as he sat in front of his blue and black gaming set-up, monitor displaying another game he'd binge that night—it was still nice having a buddy to play numerous games with. A kid like him who had the same interests. A kid who also found freedom within the internet.
korie66: YOOOOOOO GLOOMURAI
korie66: GET ON MAGITROPICA RN
Gloomurai: wht? y?
korie66: FREE STUFF
Gloomurai: DONT HAVE TO TELL ME TWICE
Both of your days were spent trading the best items, sharing tips for a new game level, or even just chatting for the fun of it. Each night Idia had even found himself eagerly shuffling to his room, shutting the door behind him, and turning on his PC just to make it in time for your scheduled co-ops.
Eventually, you and Idia had found yourselves much more open with one another as well; a certain kind of trust that could only form with the number of years you had played together. What was the point in finding real-life friends, the young Idia thought as he snagged a bag of chips to eat while playing with you, if he had you to spend time with instead? One friend was all he needed, and you filled that roll perfectly!
Gloomurai: YESSSSSESEES LETS GOOOOO
korie66: NICE GOING GLOOMI~~ WE TOTALLY BEAT THAT LAST BOSS LEVEL LMAO
Gloomurai: YEAH
Gloomurai: FR THE BEST DUO
korie66: I SWEAR IM NEVER DITCHING U, GLOOMI
korie66: CANT DO ANYTHING W/O YOU LOL
Gloomurai: U BETTER NOT HAAHAHAHAJ
This was all he needed. Your friendship was all he needed.
Idia—now a third year student and housewarden at Night Raven College—sighed as he closed the latest game he'd been playing, cracking his back as he stretched like cat waking up from a deep sleep. Determining it was far too early for bedtime, however, the young man had decided it was a good hour to clear out his PC's memory. It was about time. It had been a while.
Scrolling and deleting through file and files, memories, and unused downloads, Idia had found nothing of importance to him and trashed everything in his path. That is, until he spotted a familiar chat log that read UNSTOPPABLE DUO hidden deep within his message history.
The Ignihyde housewarden gazed at the chat name he knew all too well. A certain feeling then began to rise within his chest as his hand subconsciously guided his mouse towards the familiar icon of your profile picture, still the same as it was years ago.
This is a really bad idea, Idia voiced in his mind. Yet, despite being against his own actions, Idia watched as his own hand clicked your name—only to spot a sea of red text blaring through the screen as he peered at the pixels of his computer:
korie66: Last Active 10 years ago. . .
Idia slumped over in his chair at the text, dejected, "I don't know why I even tried."
Shutting off his monitor, the blue-haired boy then stood from his chair and begrudgingly marched back to his bed, concluding his late night. He hadn't known what he was even expecting, at that point. He'd long knew of your inactivity; it's not like he didn't know what he'd see.
It really was just a shame you never had a chance to meet each other, Idia thought. He supposed, though, that some people were never meant to truly remain friends, to remain together.
And you were no exception to that.
♡the friend you meet by accident♡
“OH SEVENS NOT AGAIN—”
“Hm?” Malleus, who had been peacefully reading a book during his break from his studies, suddenly peered up from his spot in the palace gardens at the alarming shouts coming from the sky. It had been a relatively clear afternoon; one with few clouds in the atmosphere and very few birds soaring above, which only left the young fae even more curious at the panicking screams he could catch from his place beside the flower beds. Gently placing his now discarded book down to the grass, Malleus then made his way closer to the figure as a blur of (h/c) fell from the sky and into a nearby bush.
Thud!
“Ugh, I knew trying that spell would be a total fail,” the figure, who Malleus could now make out as a fae child around his age, dwelled as they rubbed a couple bruises on their arms, healing themselves. “I guess this is what happens when I don’t listen to Mother, but—"
“Ahem,” Malleus cleared his throat, finally gaining the child’s attention.
“AAAHHH—” you screamed again, only this time with shock at the sight of another living being around you. “Gosh, don’t scare me like that! What if my magic went all kapooey on you?! What would happen then?” you scolded the rather tall boy as you stood up from your previously injured state—skin now pristine due to your magic.
“Hm…” the dark-haired boy before you contemplated your words, “Then I suppose going ‘kapooey’ wouldn’t be very good for me, correct?”
“Exactly! I’m glad we’re on the same page.” You turned your body away from the boy as you inspected your dirt-stained clothes, wincing at the rips caused from your fall into the bush. “I don’t even want to imagine what Mother would do to me if she found out I’d harmed another fae—another child at that, too! Although,” your eyes then followed up the fae’s face and pointed its attention straight towards the two black horns resting atop his head, “you do look a bit different than me… Where are we right now?” No other fae from where you were from had any such horns like his; you were sure of it! You must’ve landed in another land other than your own, if that were the case.
But where, exactly? You thought.
“Briar Valley,” the horned-boy swiftly replied, “The palace, to be exact.”
“Briar Valley?! I must have traveled further than I thought, then!” a frazzled exclaim escaped your mouth as you struggled with your hands to prepare whatever spell had gotten you there in the first place. “I have to go right away! So sorry for intruding, uh…” a hesitant pause ensued as you held out a hand to the child, signaling an introduction from him.
“Malleus. My name is Malleus,” he softly gave you a smile.
You returned his smile with a grin of your own, shaking his hand, “Right. Thank you, Malleus. I’m (Y/n).”
“It was no issue.”
And with your final goodbyes to the fae you’d just met, Malleus then stood and followed your form as you disappeared to Sevens know where. The only remnants left of your presence were the gold, sparkling specs of magic that remained after you casted your spell, filling the palace garden with dust that resembled stars scattered throughout the greenery. Malleus, at the sight of your magic, had then begun to wonder just where you had come from and why you had landed there that day as quickly as you left.
The chances of seeing you again were slim. Still, however…
“(Y/n),” Malleus had whispered to himself.
“A lovely name for a fae such as themselves, yes?”
a/n: ALL IN FAVOR FOR MORE RIVAL READER X VIL SAY AYEE-AYEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
god this was such a nightmare to finish iM SO GLAD I PULLED THROUGH THO I FR GAVE UP HALFWAY ESPECIALLY WITH IDIA'S-
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst imagines#twstnexus#riddle rosehearts#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingscholar#leona kingscholar x reader#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim al asim#kalim al asim x reader#vil schoenheit#vil schoenheit x reader#idia shroud#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia#malleus draconia x reader#disney twst#disney twisted wonderland#♢the scribe♢
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I really love what you do with the colors pallets. I was wondering if you had any tips on how todo them? I over complicate things, and I feel like I can’t do the pallets right, like is there a certain rule on color placement? Like the darker colour goes in the background, lighter further front?
… sorry 😭, other artists just make pallets look so easy, would you recommend using 3 or 2 colors to start with?
Sorry for babbling and thanks again 😂, honestly love seeing your art 😙, also, if someone wanted to gives your art/fic would you mind if they tagged you or would sending it in an ask be better?
I’m still very new to choosing my own pallets. As for order, often I find the “pop”, or most saturated color works good for the background. Then for the characters, a less saturated version of the compliment color….or one that just looks nice. Then I do a light color for the eyes and any other elements I wanna emphasize. Lineart is done in black and then just alpha lock->fill layer with a color and slide around the adjustments until I’m happy. There’s not really a particular number of colors I think looks best, but I’m starting to like five color pallets. You can do three or even two, but five gives you some breathing room for variety.
A lot of it really is just what looks nice. I hate to say that, but there’s not an exact science behind it. Yes, you have to have knowledge of color theory, but also…It is just training your eye. Studying other people’s palettes, figuring out what rules they’re following, and how to play with and bend those rules.
This is why I will often go into the “color palett” tag for a starting point. But as a way to make them my own…I’ll do each color on its own layer. This way, I can change the hue/saturation/brightness and change, change, change, change, change until I’m satisfied. So much of the process is just playing. Play with one color, hop to another layer, play with that color, hop back to the other and adjust it slightly. And so forth. It sounds like a lot of time, but you get faster the more you practice.
This most recent color pallet actually started off as the THIRD row of colors, and then I just adjusted it until it was different, but still satisfying to me.
Finally I added one solid color (for this one I believe it ended up being a dark blue) above all the layers, and then just cycled through each of the adjustment layer types, until I found the one that looked the best. This last step is the clincher for tying all the colors together, and making them look cohesive.
Then colors are picked and saved. New pallet to use in the future!
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In the dead of night
Simon x reader
This diary entry contains…Late night baths,a tiny bit suggestive,mentions of poor mental health,Established relationship,pretty short.
Simon was…an interesting person to the normal eye.People knew of his depression and anxiety and looked at him differently.Some people would treat him like a baby who couldn’t do simple tasks and other picked at his insecurities because they didn’t understand what he was going though.
But that wasn’t you,You treated him like an actual human being.You didn’t baby him or water down any instructions or words for him.You gave him the best mental health advice you could give which kinda helped him.
The two of you became closer and closer and soon enough you became close enough to start a relationship.It was nothing too big.You guys didn’t act like a huge couple but you guys did make it known you were together by holding hands and exchanging small kisses when Simon would drop you off at your class.
He loved going over to your house.It was vibrant and full of color unlike his dull house.Your family loved him from how quiet he was.He was respectful and just kinda stood besides you.
He knew how to speak for himself which surprised some people as they thought he was mute,Stupid assumption but it was whatever.
Once the two of you turned 19,You decided to move in together.of course you got a cheap apartment near the college so you didn’t have to ride the train as much.You liked it because you and Simon clashed together perfectly in a way.
You two had grew closer and became more comfortable doing certain things around each other like bathing or changing clothes.Tonight was no different as you sat on the toilet seat,Legs crossed while scrolling on your phone.
Simon was sat in the tub,Soft bubbles surrounding him as he slightly played with them before letting out a soft huff.he turned to you before letting out an another much louder huff.
You looked at him before looking at him with a confused expression.”do you need something?”You asked while placing your phone on the counter.
“Can you join me,It’s so boring in here”Simon says while scooting back a little,making room for you to join.You think for a minute before shrugging.
You get out of your clothes before tossing them in the dirty clothes hamper.You climb into the tub before making yourself comfortable in between Simon.
You lay back on him before letting out a small hum.”so what happened earlier today?You seemed stressed”You asked while grabbing Simon’s hand.
“I just had a rough day at school…don’t worry”He replied while looking at the ceiling,The water slightly moving with him.
You hum before looking up at Simon slightly.”If you wanna go in to more detail I’m happy to listen”You say while looking back at the wall.
“It’s just that…I had this big exam right?I studied for hours,missing time to hang out with you just to put in extra study hours and I still failed”Simon says with a heavy sigh.
“What?You can’t retake it?”You ask,your face slightly scrunching up with confusion.Simon shook his head before twirling a piece of your hair around his finger.
“No,Honestly I wanted to beg my ass off for a chance to do a retake but I saw no point..I wouldn’t pass again even if I studied harder.”He said with a sad tone before tracing smalls shapes on your thigh.
“Well I’m sure that on your next test you’ll do amazing!I believe in you Simon”You say while smiling before reaching over and grabbing your washcloth and grabbing the soap.
After the both of you had washed up and dried off.The two of you just sat in your underwear as you were both too lazy to put on a pajamas.
As you sat in the cold bedroom,The only light coming from the moon and your cellphone as you played with Simon’s slightly damp hair.He was laid out against your chest as he watched you scroll on a random app.
“Do you think that maybe one day I’ll get better?”Simon asks.You thought for a second before nodding,Putting your phone on the charger and putting it on the dresser next to your bed.
“Of course,I believe as long as you put in enough effort to try and get better then you’re gonna get better”You say with a small smile.
“But it eats at me…like I’m happy one week and the next 2 weeks I’m a shit eating mess of sadness”Simon explains while gently tapping on your collarbone.
“…I don’t understand what you’re going through but just know I’m always here for you during those hard times of your life.”You say while moving some of his hair out of his face before placing a small kiss on his forehead.
“We should get some sleep.We have to go grocery shopping again and I need to drop off a paper”You say while pulling the plush soft covers over the both of you.The one thing Simon loved about living with you is that you made the house well taken care of.making sure the food stock was good,keeping it clean,Etc.
Simon helped out the best he could by making a grocery list,making up the bed,cleaning up the living room, the smallest things that made a difference or made him feel accomplished for the day.
Simon nodded as he slowly felt himself begin to fall asleep,Your fingers in his hair and you slightly humming to yourself.”good night Simon…”You slur out before closing your eyes.
“Good night…I love you”He mumbled out before feeling himself fall asleep.He felt safe in your arms.He knew nothing could bother him when he’s in your presence or near you.he knew he would wake up and you would be there waiting for him.
Just like always.
#cry of fear#cry of fear x reader#cry of fear x you#simon henriksson#simon henriksson x reader#character x you#video game x reader#fluff#x reader#x y/n
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I’ll Never Fall In Love Again: Scene 5: You May Now Kiss the Bride
Fandom: The Bubble
Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader
Warnings: none. A little rusty wordcraft after some time away.
A/N: This one’s a bit longer, stuffed with a bunch of half memories and a swirl of rushed, weighty moments. I could have split this one in two but didn’t really want to. It should be a whirlwind, and for that, I do not apologize.
The intimacy coordinator doesn’t seem to know that you and Dieter were–are–married. Not interested. No assumptions. Two actors, professional agenda, plain as that. She’s just here to do her job, and there will be no nonsense, there are boundaries, there must be consent.
“Twice, Gerard,” she chides from under her austere, German haircut, opting for Dieter’s character name, not bothering to use his real one. “No more. It is once, twice, break. Noses to the right, no tongue.”
“How about teeth?” He is trying so so hard to keep the twinkle out of his eye and the IC glares him down. He returns a self-defacing grin, meant to charm, to be submissive. “I don’t think he would invade her mouth, but I don’t think he wants to let her go, either. I mean, look at her.”
Now it’s your turn to glare.
“Justine,” she barks at you, similarly foregoing your actual name, and you jump. “You consent to this?”
“Suuuuuuure.”
“Fine. We add that in. Please add it to the notes.” She doesn’t even look over at her assistant, just places the order and moves in to point to areas on your body. “Hands can go here, here, here, and here. That is your canvas. Do not paint outside the lines. Now kiss.”
It’s hard enough to naturally execute a staged kiss with a stern woman ordering you into it. Let alone in a rehearsal room full of PAs and pop lights. Let alone with Dieter fucking Bravo and all the baggage that entails, both bitter and sweet.
But still. You’ve shared staged intimacy with him before. And muscle memory kicks in. His huge hands cupping your jaw should make your shoulders want to jump in reflexive defense. Instead, your body remembers–this posture, this gesture, this warm breath on your face, these eyes yearning after your lips–and instantly melts into its safety.
You almost forgot how his mustache tickles.
You almost forgot how he grips, his fingers fighting against his desperation, trying so hard not to bruise.
But the gentle pull of his teeth at your bottom lip, that’s new.
For him. That was always your move.
He’s gone back to the sandalwood shampoo. That’s nice. You almost forget where you are--
“Ach. No. Clumsy. Remember your light. Your nose gets in the way, Gerard. Try again.”
You hope the step back from your scene partner isn’t too fast.
Or too slow.
________
“I got a little over-zealous.” Dieter shuffled through the french doors of a large-ish bedroom, the walls covered in a riot of figures, studies in the shape of Dali’s slender women, half finished, heads like bouquets, door knobs, something slightly penile– “Was gonna repaint it, but thought you might wanna pick your own color. Home it up however you want.” The ice clinked in his whiskey glass as he spun toward the floor-to-ceiling blinds to push them open, revealing a nice little balcony looking up over Dixie Valley toward the scrubby hills. He tilted his head back for a second to let his sunglasses shield him from the sun that poured through, an annoyed hiss sucking through his teeth betraying a possible hangover. “Got a new mattress coming. You don’t wanna sleep on the one that was here.”
A shameless grin as he winked a red eye over his Ray Bans at you.
Morgan was right. His house was large enough. No mansion, for sure, but a sizeable place for two people; it’s far too big for one. Must have picked it for the tax write-off. You’d certainly have enough privacy.
His bedroom was on another floor–four in all, built into the hillside–and two different living room lounge areas on separate floors. You could go days without seeing each other without much effort.
“Are you sure you want me to paint over them?”
“Please,” he scoffed. “I haven’t been back in here since the acid trip that birthed these. Just like, 36 hours of fucking around and a shit ton of macaroni balls.”
He painted all of this, in all this detail, in a day? And what the hell is a macaroni ball?
“Well, then, if you really don’t mind, I guess I might get someone in here this week to get it done. I’d like to get out of my condo lease before another month comes due…”
He choked slightly on a sip of whiskey and cut the air with a splayed hand.“Wait. You’re giving up your lease?”
“Well…yeah. It doesn’t make sense to pay for something I’m not living in. I mean–”
“Don’t do that. I got it.”
You blinked. “What do you mean, ‘you’ve got it’?”
“I can cover your rent. You shouldn’t…give up your own place.”
“Oh.” An awkward silence. “I…thought I was going to live here, satisfy the requirements, keep up appearances–”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” the ice clinked again as he swung his free hand forward to find your shoulder, not sure if it was to steady himself or you. “You’re welcome to make it your home. Really. Go fucking bonkers. I just thought you’d want to keep a space that was yours. To retreat to.”
Twisting to look out through the bedroom doors into the wide open second floor living room lounge and then back again, you cocked an eyebrow. “I think I have more room here, D.”
“I mean, a space that doesn’t have,” he gestured sloppily around his head and then out toward the walls, “my aura saturating it. Like, a space that doesn’t have my ass smeared all over it.”
He didn’t laugh with you, but allowed the time to let yours pass. “I don’t mind that as long as you don’t mind me rubbing my…aura ass or…ass aura all over your house.”
That, though, yanked a half-smile out of him. “Not at all. Your ass aura is a welcome addition.”
“Good.” Dieter was a big weirdo, but his heart was in the right place. This was going to be more pleasant than you’d anticipated. A warm little breeze ruffled the curtains as you whispered a humble thanks.
“Cool. Great. Hey, mmm–” downing his whiskey and walking out of the room to the tv area of the lounge, “you wanna smoke and watch some porn?”
Ah yes. That aforementioned “aura.”
“Um, no? But…I wouldn’t mind getting high and watching Xanadu….”
That won you an eager, unchecked grin.
“Amazing.”
_________________
It started off one night by asking him to help you navigate the complicated system of streaming services and on-demand channels he had set up through an expensive all-in-one portal. He found the movie you were jonesing for and you ended up on the lounge couch with his feet in your lap while you both ugly wept over the ending of Wit.
After that, the next few weeks was an almost every-other-nightly ritual of him wandering down to the lounge, asking sheepishly if he could join you, and then a combo of one of you sprawled on the couch, the other on the floor or being lap support for feet, one of you stoned (usually him), stuffing your face with popcorn, late nights chewing over cinema history (or Dieter’s Hollywood conquest history) and player’s choice for passing out there or in your own beds.
Dieter ended up being the roommate you always wanted, one that made you realize how quiet and lonely your single-bedroom apartment had really been. Sure, he stumbled into your area more often than he’d promised, but he was always welcome. Sure, he left a wake of spilled wine and soggy popcorn and kitkat wrappers and greasy pizza boxes on the coffee table, but he also was on good terms with his cleaning lady who was able to somehow leave the place immaculate every morning, even if he was sprawled out snoring atop the mess. In and out before you woke, you had a suspicion that she was some kind of magical house brownie with eternal patience and goodwill. Every evening you shuffled off to your room leaving Dieter in a pile of bathrobe and paraphernalia, you wondered if you should drop her an offering of cookies and milk. Or, like, a crisp $100 bill.
He spent a weekend here or there off somewhere for a photo shoot or pickups for the movie he shot right before Fall of Timon that was set to come out during awards season…Hunger…something? Strike? Yes. Hunger Strike. And you, you navigated your way through a few meetings with an immigration agent and set about filling out some preliminary paperwork. Morgan helped, mostly by pulling some industry strings to pull your life sentence with Dieter down from the requisite three years.
A week to the day before the wedding, you realized how unreal it all seemed. Shouldn’t you be stressed? Planning? What were you forgetting? Everything was being taken off your plate by a high-profile wedding planner you never actually saw, so it was actually a routine day when Uri Malani’s assistant showed up at the house with a rack of a half dozen dresses out of which to choose from the designer’s upcoming line.
Weddings for actors are never the stressful affairs that they are for many people. Actors spend much of their professional lives in the spotlight, they have a plethora of opening nights on stage or wardrobed awards nights or show up twenty feet high on a big silver screen. A wedding is just another day on stage. Nothing has to be perfect because they’ve learned that anything can be improvised and still be amazing.
So the tailor session for your wedding dress was much like an at-home costume fitting; this was, after all, quite literally, just one more role to play. Except that the dress was worth $8000 and sponsored by Malani’s design house. It wouldn’t be yours to keep, but then, what would you do with a dress you’d never wear again….
….a dress that was really only a costume…for a fake-ish wedding….that you agreed to in order to further your career...not like it was for love or anything...not like it was...
“Hey. You okay?”
Dieter had come home while you were stood on top of a tailor’s box in the downstairs living room, a beautiful white silk creation cascading over your shoulders and piling in gleaming yardage around your feet. He’d taken up a seat on the far end of the room, knocked over something decorative on an end table when he propped up his feet to better support his sketch pad, using you as his personal model. “Like a fucking Venus in her seashell,” he mumbled, assessing all the white fabric.
The tailor had run out to his car to find a packet of buttons for this particular dress, leaving you to stare at yourself in the traveling full-length mirror.
Pretty. Simple. Innocent maybe. The perfect little sweetheart to tame the Hollywood beast. The reflection had replaced you with a …bride. And some deep crypt in your heart opened up. And some errant thought you once thought was dead came ambling out, attacking when you least expected it.
There in the mirror was a bride who was you and you were a bride and that bride was sobbing and beyond it should have been a Dieter kicked back in an armchair but instead there was a sketch pad laying ruffled and bent on the floor where it was dropped and your friend striding across the room wide-eyed and fingers twitching and looking about as scared as you felt–
“Hey. Hey Babycakes. Hey. What the fuck is happening here.” Suddenly he was before you, his hands wandering through the air around your elbows, stuck in two gears at once, oscillating between wanting to clutch and yet keeping a forced, respectful bubble; a man that wasn’t practiced in the art of comfort and knew it.
“I just,” you put up your hands, trying to calm him in return, a signal that he need not be so worried. “I just…I don’t know…sorry. This is all just happening so fast and it shouldn’t be a big deal but…”
Oh.
You hadn’t thought of that until exactly that moment.
“I just realized that I won’t just ever have a wedding. The wedding, you know? That…my husband–my future husband–will never just be my husband. He’ll never just be the most special person in my life…like, he’ll always be my second husband as far as everyone’s concerned. And that wedding’s gonna have to either just be simple and take a back seat to this one or it’s going to have to be bigger and better in every way and I won’t be able to enjoy it…maybe…I don’t know….”
“Hey.”
You didn’t even realize you were shaking until his hand folded around yours to find it a still, warm place to be. And when you looked up to the mirror again, there was a bride, puffy-faced, standing aloft on her short pedestal in an artsy Sherman Oaks living room above her slovenly groom in a stretched-out t-shirt whose thumb was worrying her knuckles and who was gazing up at her in a heartfelt study of concern and fear.
“Cakes. We don’t have to do this.”
His voice had the same effect as turning the heat down on a simmering pot and you felt your heart returning to manageable speed as you squeezed his fingers in your own.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. It just hit me hard and fast. I’ll get over it. I mean, it’s just a dream, right? There’s no saying I’ll even marry anyone else. I’m so picky and focused on my career so…” But when you met his eyes, you saw that his pot was still threatening to simmer over. “Really. It’s okay, D. Just promise me we’ll have fun, okay?”
Letting go of the breath he’d been holding, his face settled into a slovenly, relaxed smile, relieved to have an assignment. “Yeah. I can promise that.” His eyes shot wide. “Oh shit. Vows. We have to do that shit don’t we.”
You laughed, lifted his hand to kiss his thumb as the tailor came back into the room. “Yeah, we do. Just don’t promise anything you can’t deliver, Bravo.”
“You wouldn’t believe what I can deliver, missus.”
________________
Nobody could ever say Dieter Bravo wasn’t an amazing actor.
“Listen. I may have got my ass kicked off a few sets when I was just starting out, but I can say that I’ve never broken a contract. I sign my name onto something? I commit.”
A perfectly sunny day. A beautiful ocean-view trellis. A veil made of silk orchids spilling over your hair. Your parents watching from the front row, flown in specially for the day.
Dieter didn’t believe in holding hands during the vows. But apparently he did believe in hugging you tightly against him and very openly weeping. “I can’t believe you said yes to me. Babe. You’re just…you’re the perfect wife for me. You came into my life and it’s been fun, you know? I promise you, we’re gonna have fun.”
It was sweet, really. You knew he wasn’t only putting on a good show, living up to the weirdness that people expected from his eccentric, chaotic persona, but it was also evident that he was actually allowing himself to feel this, to give into the fantasy of being a husband for someone he cared about.
And, of course, you knew he was doing this for you. Living these vows in real time. Because the harder you giggled against him in front of the ocean and everyone you loved, overcome by the ridiculousness of it all, the harder he sobbed, his voice all but cutting out completely, just an absolute mess.
He stumbled forward a little, stepping on your toes, but it hardly mattered. To match his white groomswear–a beautiful white jacket and vest over black trousers–he’d opted for white crocs. That way, he said, he wouldn’t hurt you when he fumbled the first dance. And you were actually touched that he’d festooned them with the jibbitz you’d bought him that day at the Farmer’s Market. It made you grin like an idiot on your march down the aisle. And if you ever got nervous enough to drop your gaze, there they were, a reminder that this was all just too silly, that you were both in on your own private joke.
As much as he’d assured you that you didn’t have to adopt this crazy scheme, it surprised you that Dieter actually took it as seriously as he did. Not the fake marriage thing, but the whole…formal wedding part. You knew him well enough. This was not his style. If Bravo was going to seriously marry anyone it would probably include nudity and psychotropics.
But at least he was making sure you were both having a good time at everyone else’s expense. As long as he wasn’t high. That’s all you asked of him on the day. Just for him to be coherent enough so you wouldn’t be left alone in all of this. And you were relatively sure he was going to keep his word on that.
“You’re so talented smart and and pretty and I’m fucking lucky I met you. You like all the same pizza toppings I do and I’m so happy you’re the last person I see before I fall asleep. I know what I’ve got. I’m not giving this up. I’m gonna take care of you,” he pulled his expression together into a mask of fearful determination. “And I’m gonna be who you need me to be.”
Damn, he was Sell. Ing. It.
Your eyebrows shot up as he went in for an early kiss, smashing his lips into yours, his fingers digging into your back, the combination of his vows’ forceful sincerity and the desperate eagerness of the kiss sending you both stumbling.
After that, it was a balancing act between your mouth and your heart, one of them delivering the vows you’d prepared–the promises to treat him gently and be a good partner, some quote by Emily Dickinson about the wildness of the sea and the beating of your heart–while the other worked to quiet all the fire alarms that his words had set off in you.
It was just a show. Just another show, that’s all. You would let the emotions guide your actions in a truthful way, but in the end, the curtain always comes down and you get to take your bows and dump your flowers in your dressing room and then go out and get a drink.
“And I promise you, Dieter Bravo, that you will enjoy every damn moment of having me around.”
And he laughed through his watery eyes and you kissed him back, giving his bottom lip a good-natured nip as you let him go, the wedding guests exploding in applause as the officiant made the final declaration and nobody but you heard Dieter when he whispered, “Yes ma’am.”
Now that? That was a five-star performance.
________________
Most of the reception was spent apart from one another. You both quickly realized that whenever you stood in one place together, silver and glass rang out, demanding satisfaction and wouldn’t stop its incessant din until your lips met. You planned for one or two kisses during the ceremony, probably one after the dreaded first dance, but you’d both forgotten about the abhorrent clinking tradition. And it wouldn’t do to look like you were avoiding it.
Dieter wasn’t the best kisser–kissing probably not being his focus when he was intimate with people–but he was warm and gentle in a way you hadn’t expected, his lips were big and soft and his nose got in the way. It got easier and more natural every time, but it was still a struggle to make sure it looked as if every one was your thousandth, and not your third.
By the time he was swaying against you, his lips finding your temple during the first dance, he had nailed the role. “How are you holding up, missus?”
“It’s going fine. My parents are happy. They liked your last film and I told them about how nice you were to me during Timon. I mean, they also think you’re a bit of a clown with a flat ass, but they’ll come around.”
“Bold of them to assume. The jacket covers my ass. Mostly.”
“YouTube. The Venice Beach incident. The reason I’m here, remember?”
“Well, shit.” His cheek pressed into your forehead, seeking support.
And you lent it, winding your arms further around him, urging him to lean in. A subtle shift in his sway, a slowing, a softening as you rubbed comfort into his back. “How are you doing?”
“Fucking exhausted.”
“Those crocs letting you down?”
“I meant emotionally. This is a lot of work. Even a union day’s only ten hours long.”
“Just think how well you’ll sleep tonight.”
“Shit. That reminds me,” he sighed, exasperated. “Planner booked us the suite here. The bed’s a California king, but I’ll take the couch if you want.”
“Should be fine. Do you snore in your sleep?”
“Guess we’ll find out.”
“Do you fart in your sleep?”
“Guess we’ll find out.”
And, like thousands of newlyweds before you, you chuckled softly into each others’ shoulders, your wedding guests most likely imagining a much different conversation.
The last verse of the first dance began–a cover of an old love tune neither of you had chosen but everyone had immediately started sighing over–and you let words go, simply fueling each other through the last big duet of the performance.
Your head fell naturally to his shoulder, and his chin held you there as you both just rode out the time.
The sun was setting. The fairy lights taking over.
His shoulder….ample, supportive.
Sandalwood….
And the last verse of the first dance ended–a long final note that both of you allowed to resonate between you as everyone applauded in adoration–and you stepped back to find each other’s eyes, then, according to the script, each other’s lips…
…but then neither of you let go.
In fact, both of you held on just a little harder.
There was a flash, a moment where the spell was working on you, that maybe you wanted it to be real. A flicker of heat and the need to be consumed by him. As your body received the kiss that was meant to satisfy expectations but was fulfilling other surprising deficiencies, its chemicals fired to match the action, and as his fingers twisted the silk of your dress, they wrung a tiny whine from you–
–signaling an end to the effect as he broke away.
Or so you thought.
But then…his eyes…his pupils blown wide, his dark eyes darker with–
“Dieter, are you–”
“Hey, do you wanna have–”
“--are you…high?”
You could almost feel the ramp of his heart as you caught him in the headlights. Those wide pupils darting back and forth between your own. A moment gone on too long that you took for guilt over misbehavior but would later recognize as fear of rejection.
Until he deployed his defense mechanism and let the dumbest, sloppiest smile slide across his face to serve as both an admission and an apology. And you growled through a gritted smile.
“Really, dude? At our staged wedding? My family’s here!”
He laughed and gave you a squeeze, nearly lifting you off the ground. “Told you. Fun. D’you wanna hit?”
“No, you fucking dork. Just…don’t let my parents find out. They’re really weird about that stuff and you already have a track record.”
It was half chiding and half resigned amusement. The man was a disaster and everyone loved him in spite of it, you were no exception. He was zero good judgment and a fine example of a charming but hapless mess. But you knew he was good for his word, knew he wouldn’t embarrass you. And that was–you reminded yourself lovingly towards him–about the best you could expect out of Dieter Bravo.
________
“Roll. Action.”
It’s the mark of a good director, scheduling an intimacy shoot on the first day, especially if you need your actors to have a newness, an electricity, that little spark of desperation and awkwardness that makes the chemistry bubble.
But that certainty changes when the actors have history.
It’s the mark of a genius director to take two actors with history and throw them opposite each other when the characters themselves are fighting against their own past.
“I still love you, Justine.”
“I very much doubt that.”
“It’s true.”
“Yeah?” You hit your mark, tilt your chin at him in challenge. “Prove it.”
In his everyday persona, Dieter is an agent of chaos and an absolute menace. But to his credit, he takes his job seriously, a consummate professional. His hands go here, here, and here, and they avoid there, there, and there, just as the intimacy coordinator instructed. He kisses once, twice. No more.
He’s added a few subtle ingredients–a press of foreheads, a shared breath, a thumb across your cheekbone. And a hum of satisfaction.
But he forgot the nibble. It’s not necessary, and he originally added it just to dig at you.
And of course he knew that something deep in you would notice--and secretly resent--the omission.
The little shit.
The IC isn’t on set for filming.
Fuck it.
You put your hands there. You kiss him a third time. You give him a little nip.
And he smiles into the kiss. And does not let go.
A whistle comes from the DP. “Good take. Let’s do another for safety.”
Annie’s voice floats in contentedly from the darkness in the direction of the run monitor. “Let’s do a few. Dieter, don’t hold back. He needs to show her how he really feels. This is his one chance to make her love him again.”
There’s no will in you to pull away from him so fast, this time content to stay in your light while the shift is reset. But you manage to give him a look, a half-hearted reprimand–
Dieter….
He counters with a cocked eyebrow.
Hey. Fun, remember?
And Dieter, still holding on, never having looked away, calls back to the director, “Can do.”
______
______
NEXT
SERIES MASTERLIST
MASTERLIST
#i'll never fall in love again#the bubble fanfic#dieter bravo#dieter bravo x reader#dieter bravo x f!reader#the bubble
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🥰 ~ with Silvio Ricci + Christmas Twist
Part of the Kiss, Hug, or Cuddle event
~
Pairing ~ Silvio Ricci x Reader
Word Count ~ 1.9k
Author's Note ~ Thank you for this request, @violettduchess ! I hope you enjoy my first full Silvio fic! 🥰💜
Ps. I think slow dancing could be considered cuddling, yeah? 😆
♡
Christmas Twist: Slow dancing to Christmas music
~
Red, green, and gold colors glittered around the room, and a Christmas tree that stood taller than you had ever seen graced the corner near the grand piano. You had been in the ballroom with Silvio and his attendees for hours, taking notes on everything that was carried in and out, where each thing was placed, and what materials Silvio preferred most. You had been tasked with helping Silvio prepare for an event he and Nokto were hosting for some of the merchants from both Rhodolite and Benitoite. Rio was working for Nokto, and you were almost jealous of him, because Silvio had immediately demanded that you would assist him and would not hear of working with anyone else.
Silvio was nothing if not thorough, checking and re-checking your list dozens of times after each new item before moving on, and by the time everything was set, you were worn out and your patience had worn thin. But once the work was done, Silvio declared a round of the chosen wine for the occasion, on him, so many weary workers’ grudges were swiftly forgiven. While the maids and other servants tidied up the ballroom, you made to gather your things into your satchel and leave the clipboard you had been using with Silvio so that you could go to the library and get some much-needed study time in before your next lesson with Sariel.
However, Silvio had other plans. “Prince Silvio, where are we going at this hour?”
“You don’t get to miss out on the fun, lady. I’m not gonna let ya!” he laughed derisively as he dragged you by the wrist down the dimly lit corridors and into one of the guest lounges. He had assailed you before you had even packed up all your things, and all you could do was pray that Rio would find them and safely deposit them in your room for you. The wooden door clicked behind you and Silvio once he found the room he was looking for, and you were about to round on Silvio, accusations on the tip of your tongue, but a lantern lit up directly in front of your eyes and startled the words from it completely.
"Look around, lady. Don't miss what's right in front of ya, you'll regret it later." Normally, his vitriol wouldn't have stopped you, but something in the lilt of his voice hinted at a change in the face that lurked in the dark, hidden by the flame of a candle. You paused and stared at the candle, the only light in the room that was enveloped in darkness. Perhaps this surprise won't be too bad after all? A moment passed in silence, until,
"Well aren't ya gonna light the other lanterns? Or do ya just wanna stare at my handsome face all night?" You could clearly hear the expression of arrogance the prince wore and you scoffed audibly, taking the lanterns from him. Of course he wouldn't do it himself, what were you thinking? Clearly, you had forgotten who you were with. Ignoring the sinking feeling in your heart, you made your way around the room, using the candle Silvio lit to light the others that decorated the walls of the lounge, until a warm glow permeated the room.
You weren't sure what to expect when you turned back to face the Benitoitian prince, but it was far from what met your eyes. A gasp left your lips as you took in the beautifully decorated Christmas tree in the corner, with glittering boxes nestled underneath. This tree was somewhat different from the one in the ballroom, with strands of shining blue and white jewels draped over the branches and foreign trinkets hung from every limb. It rivaled Silvio himself in glamor, but somehow still seemed tasteful.
"Is this what Christmas trees are like in Benitoite?" The question left your lips quietly and Silvio chuckled.
"Only in the palace. Ya think everyone in Benitoite is as rich as I am?"
"D-Did you decorate this tree?!" You finally ripped your eyes free from the tree and fixed them upon the prince in front of you, hope flaring back to life in your traitorous heart.
"Of course not." Silvio laughed, a sound that resembled a jeering crowd more than a joyous man. You grimaced, as though he had physically struck you, and cast your eyes downward, ashamed that you had once again placed so much belief in him. "My servants put it up. I was busy with more important stuff."
"I see." You sighed, your shoulders slumping ever so slightly. You tried not to let it show, but your body deceived you and the haughty prince caught on.
"Don't be so foolish as to think that puttin' up a Christmas tree is more important than ordering ya around."
"I could never." You internally rolled your eyes.
"Speaking of ordering ya around, go get that box and open it for me." Silvio pointed to a glittering blue box with silver ribbon tied carefully around it. You sighed in defeat and retrieved the box he had requested, and began to undo the ribbon. "Hurry up, would ya? We ain't got all night!"
"I'm working on it!" You snapped, then smacked your palm over your mouth as if it could take back what you had just said.
"Don't test my patience tonight, lady." Silvio growled. You decided to put your focus on the ribbon in front of you rather than the steaming prince, and quickly undid the rest of the knot before pulling the box lid open.
"It's-" you stared open-mouthed at the piece that was laid out before you.
"The finest sapphire you can get." Silvio replied casually, admiring his rings.
"It's beautiful." You breathed. "Who gave it to you?"
"Don't know, don't care." The Prince quipped, suddenly turning his sharp gaze on you. "I ain't got a use for it." His smile was mischievous and it clued you in to what he was insinuating.
"Well I don't either." You replied, quickly shutting the box. You tried to stand up to set the box down away from you, but Silvio was faster. Before you could comprehend what was happening, your hands were trapped behind you and Silvio had plucked the box from you. "Prince Silvio!" You exclaimed, and damn it if you didn't sound far too excited about your current predicament.
"Don't worry, lady." His harsh voice was so close to your ear that his breath tickled the skin there, and left goosebumps in its wake. "I won't let ya refuse such a great gift." You froze in shock as the necklace came down around the front of your neck and Silvio's deft fingers worked the clasp closed from behind you. "But for tryin' to refuse the gift of a foreign Prince, ya gotta pay a price."
Still too surprised to say anything, and not quite trusting your tongue just yet, you nodded silently, and Silvio took hold of your waist with his far too big hands and spun you around to face him. You were met with a pair of cunning blue eyes, deep enough to be filled with the entire sea, and your breath caught in your throat. You had never seen Prince Silvio this close before, and while he still wore the air of a tyrant, he was undeniably handsome. Your eyes drifted down to his plush, pink lips.
"What's the price?" The words were out of your mouth before you even knew what you were saying, but apparently it was exactly what the prince wanted to hear. His crafty smile grew wider and his grip on your waist tightened.
"Dance with me."
You blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. What? You had to be hearing things. "Is that all?"
His face twisted in displeasure. "You wanna do me more favors?"
"No!" You cried swiftly, recovering what little sanity remained within you.
"Then dance with me, and do it fast. I'm gettin' impatient!" He grunted, and pulled your middle to his roughly. You couldn't help but zero in on how solid he felt against you and you sucked in a breath, returning to silent nodding as your only means of communication. Silvio nodded in approval and began stepping. You tried to keep up, but with no music, you couldn't find the beat that Silvio was following.
"Prince Silvio, I can't hear the music you seem to be dancing to." You pleaded as politely as you could, but the prince only huffed.
"Yer an idiot if you can't tell what song I'm thinkin' of."
"I pale in comparison to your intelligence." You mumbled, earning your waist another brusque tug.
"C'mere and be quiet so you can hear, got it?"
Reluctantly, you drew closer to Silvio, leaning into his broad frame and trying to keep your mind elsewhere. But your efforts failed miserably when you began to hear a soft humming coming from Prince Silvio's lips. His voice was low and smooth as he hummed a very familiar Rhodolitian Christmas tune, the timbre pulling you into its depth. 'He's such a wonderful singer,' you couldn't help but think as you relaxed into his hold and found the rhythm of the dance.
You closed your eyes and allowed the strands of his silky hair to tickle your cheek as he leaned in to sing quietly to you, his dance steps never wavering in the process. You could have danced with him all night. But all good things come to an end, and when he ended the song, he pulled away from you and sent you away for the evening, noticeably less crass than when you began.
You pondered over the evening as you walked back to your room, wondering what Silvio's motive for dancing with you could have been. You didn't receive your answer until you pushed open the door to your room and beheld a glittering light blue dress hanging from the outside of your wardrobe. It was the exact same color as the box that the necklace you now wore had come in.
It came to you all at once, the Christmas tree, the gift, the necklace, the dress, and what Silvio meant when he had said he was doing something "more important" than decorating a Christmas tree. He was putting all of this together for you. He was hosting the trade event, and was - in his own roundabout way - requesting that you be his partner for the evening, and he danced with you tonight to make sure you were used to his steps so that you wouldn't embarrass yourself or him once you were in front of other aristocrats. You chuckled as you considered that you probably didn't have a choice in the matter anyway, but for some reason, it didn't bother you the way it probably should have.
You carefully removed the necklace from your neck and hung it around the hanger with the dress and took in the ensemble as a whole. No, you wouldn't mind being Silvio's woman for a night at all. A smile tugged at your lips and you rushed to get ready for bed, eager to get as much sleep as possible so you could wake up refreshed. He may be a despot, but perhaps he did have a heart underneath all that glitter, and perhaps you would get to see more of it tomorrow night.
~
Tags for the Lovelies: @aquagirl1978 @violettduchess @ikehoe @rhodolitesroseforclavis @queengiuliettafirstlady
#ikemen prince#ikepri#silvio ricci#ikepri silvio#ikemen prince silvio#silvio ricci fluff#kiss hug or cuddle 2022#silvio cuddle fic
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Two Different Worlds
Genre : Angst
Pairing : Kim Gyuvin x Black F!Reader
Summary : Y/N And Gyuvin Met by Chance . Though From Two Different Lifestyles They Grew Closer To Each Other. Would Their Lifestyles Be The Thing That Keeps Them Apart ?
Y/N Last Name Is Greene So Yeahhh. Switches P.O.V
Y/N P.O.V
I took another sip of the cheap alcohol I was drinking. My first college party and it's boring. My senior year I heard all good things about these college parties.
“It's so fun.”
“The music makes you wanna shake ass like you're in a strip club”
“The people are going to be hot”
Well, all was complete bullshit. No offense to rdm music but fuck if they play one more rdm song I think my ears might explode. And Everyone here isn't up to my liking so no one is attractive.
Fuck why did I come?
Hearing the music change to slow r&b, I look up to see someone walking over to the circle of people I'm surrounded by with a wine bottle.
“Let the real fun begin,” she says. So we drink wine and what? Goodness, these people aren’t fun at all.
“SPIN THE BOTTLE” Someone else from the circle shouts. Hmmm spin the bottle maybe this could be a little fun.
Ten people sat down in the circle including myself. 5 girls and 5 boys.
Scanning the circle I locked eyes with a black-haired boy. He was the first attractive person I'd seen all night. His lips were a rose-pink color that glistened every time he took a sip of his drink. His dark brown eyes kept contact with mine never breaking away. Hmmm, this night just got better, I thought as we both smiled at each other.
When it was my turn to finally spin. I hoped it landed on the person I was making eye contact with all night. To my pleasure, it did. He put his cup down before starting to come over to me before someone in the circle shouted.
“7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN” Goodness please stop yelling. Looking over at him, he tilted his head over to a door, which I assumed to be a closet. Standing up we walk over to the closet with the partygoers cheering behind us. Finally stepping into the closet which turned out to be a pantry full of snacks.
The light switched on and I looked over at the mystery boy. He looked at me before speaking.
“You look even better up close, I'm Gyuvin,” He said holding his hand out. Shaking his hand I told him my name.
“So aren't most people supposed to kiss during seven minutes in heaven,” I asked him as he stared at my face like he was studying every feature.
“Most people do but I just wanna talk to you Y/N,” He said while sliding down to the floor and then proceeding to pat the spot on the floor next to him. Sitting down beside him, we sat in silence for a good two minutes. It wasn't awkward, it wasn't uncomfortable, it was two college students sitting down in a pantry together. Something so simple felt so right.
“I like photography and beautiful things,” he spoke breaking the silence. Looking over at him to see him already staring at me, we both laughed. Maybe we were drunk or maybe we just bonded well over nothing.
That was the first time I met Kim Gyuvin.
1 Year Later
Y/N P.O.V
"And if we zoom in we can see the moon and its details up close," Gyuvin said as he zoomed in on his camera. We were on the beach, sitting in the sand watching the moon and the stars.
Me and Gyuvin started to date two months after the party and today would be our tenth month marking. So we decided to hang out at the beach and have a picnic date.
Picking up a vine of grapes I started to eat them while getting closer to the camera.
"Wow, you can see everything. It's like a telescope," I said intrigued by the way his camera caught every detail of the moon.
"Yeah, that's why I like it so much. Wanna take pictures?," Gyuvin asked standing up and extending his hand. Taking his hand I stood up and he grabbed the camera in his other.
"Let's go by the rocks," I said pulling him along with me. Looking back he nodded while smiling at me.
The next day when we were studying in the library Gyuvin slid a box over to me.
"Open it," he said while his cheeks were a light shade of red. Laughing a bit at his flustered state I opened the box. To my surprise in the box was a silver ring with a pink heart on it and the pictures we took at the beach.
"Omg, Gyuvin are you proposing to me?" I said in a playful tone causing his cheeks to go red and making him choke slightly on his drink.
"It's a promise ring. A promise that one day we will be married," he said while looking everywhere but at me. Taking his hand I stood up.
"Let's go get ice cream and I also have something to give you,"
We sat in a booth eating ice cream. Reaching into my bag I pulled an envelope out and slid it over to him.
He look at it with a raised brow before opening it. His face morphed from
Confusion to excitement.
"There's no way you got Arctic Monkeys concert tickets. Do you know how much these are going far? I mean thank you but these are so expensive how did you get them?" he said throwing a million and one questions at me.
Laughing I took another bite of my ice cream before swallowing. "Money isn't a problem for me, let's just go to the concert and enjoy it. Okay?" I reassured him and he nodded his head with a smile.
A week later we were at the concert as the band played I Wanna Be Yours. The crowd shouted along to the lyrics including Gyuvin and I. Two hours spent screaming and singing along with Arctic Monkeys was the best night. After the concert we went to an abandoned road and sat in the tunnel while drinking the beer we got. Gyuvin finished his drink before letting the can roll down the tunnel. He stood up and walked to the other side where there were spraypaints on the ground.
"Are they empty?" I asked as he picked up the can and shook it. He looked back smiling at me and started to write on the walls with the spray. Going over I picked a purple spray paint and wrote our initials with a plus sign. He looked at me and laughed.
"Middle school things, Y/N," he said while spraying a heart around our initials in black spray. Dropping the can he grabbed my face and pulled me in for a kiss.
"I love you," Gyuvin said and my heart picked up its pace as it was the first time any of us ever said those words. Smiling and kissing him again.
"I love you too Gyu," I said while we hugged.
One month later
Gyuvin P.O.V
It's been 11th months since me and Y/N started dating and it's been the best year of my life. Ever since we started dating I felt complete with her around. I would do anything for her, no matter the consequences.
Tonight she was coming over for a movie since we both didn't have any classes today. Making sure everything was set up I walked, well more like ran over to the door to open it. She stood there not realizing I opened the door too lost in thought before looking up at me. The stress on her face was replaced by her smiling at me. Hmm, that's weird.
Pulling her inside she took off her shoes and walked over to the couch. I immediately started to tickle her when she sat down, making her start laughing and begging me to stop. After about two minutes I let her go and helped her sit up.
"Are you okay?" I asked her when her breathing became steady. She looked at me with a fake smile and nodded her head.
"Y/N talk to me. Please I know there's something wrong," I said hoping she would tell me something. She hesitated before speaking.
"My parents are back in town. And before you say that's a good thing. It isn't at all, whenever they come back they always want me to do something for them to please the public eye and it's frustrating. And next week they want to have dinner with me and I just feel like there's more to it," she said while rubbing her leg up and down.
"Wait, public eye?" I said confused, why would it matter to show off for the public eye? Are her parents some people of relevance? Then everything clicked her last name was Greene meaning she was related to the CEOs of Greene Corporations. Looking over at her with wide eyes she just nodded her head. Instead of asking further about it, I spoke again.
"Maybe it's nothing bad and they just want to see you after two years," I said hoping that would ease her some. Instead she just smiled and grabbed the remote going through the movie selections. That night we didn't talk much after because her thoughts still plagued her.
One Week Later
Y/N P.O.V
Checking myself in the mirror one last time I walked over to the front door and walked outside to see my parents designated driver waiting by his car.
Walking over we greeted each other as he opened the door for me, thanking him I sat back and texted Gyuvin that I'll call him later.
The drive to my childhood consisted of me overthinking everything my parents could ask me for and how I would tell them I had a boyfriend I was madly in love with. The thing is my parents don't want me to date anyone who isn't rich or planning to become rich. Which doesn't make sense because as long as I love that person it shouldn't matter. Right?
Well, I was completely wrong because here I am trying to bite my words back as my parents just told me I'm getting married. Married to someone I don't even know, I knew this was a bad idea coming here and even speaking to them again.
"I'm sorry, marriage? Yeah, you guys have completely lost your minds," I said standing up getting ready to leave. They're always wanting me to do something for their company and the public but this? Marriage? Yeah no they could do whatever they want, freeze my cards, cut me off, even blacklist me but there is no way in hell am I getting married to the mayor's son. Turning my back my father spoke telling me to sit down and that this is house and I will respect him. Sighing I turned around and sat back down.
"I can't marry him, I have a boyfriend father," I said looking over at my father and then over to Kim Taerae my alleged husband. He was attractive for sure but I didn't know him and I love Gyuvin so why would I even think about marrying someone else? When I made the statement it was like all hell broke loose. My mother and father hit me with a thousand questions all at once and I answered every single last one. Like I said nothing can make me marry someone else.
Everything went silent, so I stood up and started to walk away. My father spoke up again.
"You marry him or your boyfriend loses everything," my father said while standing up and leaving the dining room. My mouth dropped and my body became rigid. I don't remember much but I do remember that by the next month, I was moved in with Kim Taerae and I didn't speak to Gyuvin again.
One month later
Gyuvin P.O.V
Checking my phone to see if I got any missed calls or texts from Y/N but nothing. It's like she disappeared after that night with her parents and she left with no explanation. She was no longer enrolled in the university we went to and her apartment was rented out by someone else. She never called me or texted me. I don't know if she's okay or not but I truly hope she is.
I stood up to check my mailbox downstairs. After I came back to my apartment I sat on the couch and went through the mail. One caught my eye because it had Y/N's name on it. It was a letter, quickly opened it. I read every word on the paper at least ten times. She broke up with me through a letter. Told me we weren't meant to be and that something was off through a letter. It felt like I had been stabbed in the stomach and the blade had poison on it that slowly spread through my body.
I cried for two days before deciding to go over the address that was on the envelope.
Knocking on the door of the house a man answered looking confused as to who I was.
"Is Y/N here?" I said trying to get a better look inside the house. Instead, he stepped out and closed the door. Looking down at him I raised my eyebrow.
“She is and who are you?” he said looking me up and down.
“I'm her boyfriend. Who the fuck are you?” I said doing the same head gesture. Why the hell was she in a house with a different guy after breaking my heart over a damn letter.
“I'm her fiance,” he said. My breathing became quicker and my heartbeat was heard in my ears. Fiance? She's engaged. For how long? Is this why she left me? For another guy?
“Look I don't know what relations you and Y/N had but you need to leave before I call the police,” he said. Ignoring him I walked around him and banged on the front door of the house. If she was here she needed to give me an explanation in person and not some shitty ass letter. Banging again I was so mad I didn't hear the man on the phone with the police. Finally, the door opened and there she stood. She didn't look happy, I don't know if it was because she saw me or if it was because of the situation. But whatever it was I didn't care I wanted answers.
“Gyuvin what are you doing here? How did you find this address?” she said shocked.
“I found this address from the stupid ass break-up letter you sent me. A letter Y/N? Come one were adults but you can't even sit me down to talk about how you got a fiance?” I said letting whatever was on my mind come out into the open. The man that was behind grabbed onto my shoulder and turned me around telling me I needed to leave. Amid my anger, I punched him and I didn't stop. We continued to fight on the grass.
I didn't know who I was mad at anymore. If it was myself, my Y/N, or her supposed fiance. But it all came clear when she finally was able to pull us away from each other and went over to him immediately. Touching my bleeding lip I saw the flashing colors of blue and red lights and just sighed.
Y/N P.O.V
Looking up at the sound of sirens I saw their officers come out of their car and tackled Gyuvin. Restraining him and pushing his arms behind his back to put the cuffs on him.
Standing up I went over to them. Telling them to let him go but they said they couldn't just because the damn mayor's son called. Calling Gyuvins name he looked back at me with tears in his eyes and swollen lip. For the first time, the love of my life didn't look at me with a smile on his face and that broke me more than anything could. Feeling someone tug my hand I look over at Taerae pulling me back into the house.
The next day I went down to the station to see him. He sat there in a lone cell just staring at the wall. After checking in with the officers I went over to the cell. When he saw me he immediately stood up and came over to me. I owed him an explanation so I gave it.
“My parents would ruin your life if I don't agree with what they say. I can't do that to you Gyuvin. I love you too much to see everything you've worked for be ripped away from you because of my selfishness,” I said with tears running down my face. He caressed my cheek and told me it was okay.
“Y/N I love you and I don't care about my career. Yeah, photography makes me happy but you make me happy. If you're taken away from me, I'm going to be way more sad than I would be over some photos so please don't leave me. Stay with me and we can start a life far away from this place. Please,” Gyuvin pleaded with tears in his eyes.
Gyuvin P.O.V
I pleaded with tears in my eyes. I can't lose the girl I love over some family bullshit. I can't allow her to marry another man over her family image. I can't image myself and her with different people. I just want her and my life would be complete. She leaned in kissing my lips through the bar and stepping back before shaking her head.
“I know my parents Gyuvin. ,” she said dropping my hand. “They're going to find us and still make our lives a living hell. We are from two different worlds Gyu. Maybe we weren't meant for each other in the long run so I won't do that to you. I'm sorry,” she said before walking away.
Yelling out how that was complete bullshit and she knew it. She didn't stop walking out of the police station and left me there to accept my reality. My world was ripped from me because of an image. An image her family wanted to uphold. Sliding back down the wall I ran my fingers through my hair silently crying to myself. I thought of all our time together and how
That was the last time I saw Y/N Greene.
The End
@yunjinsboothang
#angst#x black reader#zb1 x reader#zb1 taerae#zb1 gyuvin#gyuvin imagines#gyuvin x reader#gyuvinangst#black kpop stans
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9 people you'd like to get to know better
Got a few of these & each one has slightly different questions, I'm just gonna combine them here haha. Thanks @erisenyo @chiptrillino and @isaac !
Three ships: zukka (ofc), andriel (lol), and... idek, i guess marichat (unfortunate)
First ever ship: first ship i remember getting into was spuffy (btvs) (i think i was like. 5) but first one i got involved in fandom for was frerard
Last song: "Common People" by William Shatner lolll. as much as that song is bizarre for existing (william by covering that song you became exactly the kind of person it's about), it's a real fuckin jam my god. the way it accelerates and the two voices get increasingly intertwined as it goes on is mesmerizing to me
Last film: I think Paranormal Activity a few weeks ago? I've been on a haunting kick. if anyone has good ghost/possession/etc recommendations i'd love them
Currently reading: went through a few more stories from Gothic Fantasy's Asian Ghost Short Stories collection, I've been reading it for ages but it's always a good time. of the ones I read recently my fave was "The Magnanimous Girl" by Pu Songling. it's super short but i loved the girl lol
Currently watching: just finished the Plagiarism and You(tube) video by hbomberguy (highly recommend), but more generally i've been watching a lot of Phasmophobia gameplay vids and streams (again, I'm fr on a haunting kick)
Currently consuming: just some black tea
Currently craving: shrimp lo mein mmmm
Sweet/spicy/savory: savory and spicy! over the years my tolerance for sweet stuff has gone way down
Last thing I googled: "excellerate spelling" 😔 the worst part is that i know this will happen again
Favorite color: my answer changes every time depending on what context a color is in, but most of the clothes in my wardrobe are dusty reds/merlots so i guess that's an indication it's my favorite? also an indication i'm fire nation
Relationship status: single
Currently working on: a zukka ghost story which, given my recent track record for finishing fics, probably won't see the light of day. also been doing a bunch of drawing studies of people kissing, for reasons. what i really should be doing is getting a job, but that feels like walking off a cliff, so I'm avoiding it
This is so long lol sorry!! I'm sure a lot of people have already answered one or many of these, idkkk @fanfic-gremlin-ft-trauma @ozais-lobotomist @transboyzuko @odorumeruhentokei @yayee-prsp @honeyedsunlight @somethingfoamy @haroldtea @sulkybender
anyone else who sees this pls feel free to take it! and tag me, i wanna see
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Jason and Nico but they are a bit older like in their 20s and after they have missed each other for years dating other people or moving to other states to study and well... life happened. But they never stop being friends and always made time for each other, both kinda knew it was more than friendship but it was so safe and comfortable not to go there and risk losing everything that they never tried. But now Jason just moved back to NY and they are all in a Christmas party at Percy and Annabeth's apartment. Jason is feeling uneasy all day because he can't stop thinking about the fact that they are finally in the same place and in the same page in life, he thinks Nico feels the same but... he's scared. So Jason is on the rooftop (like how I met your mother kinda of thing) and hes thinking about it, trying to calm himself so he can at least enjoy the party.
"It's freezing out here." But Jason wasn't shivering until he heard that voice. He turns to look back and Nico is still holding at the stares to the roof.
Jason tries to smile. "It's fine, just needed some air."
Nico frowns. He sees right through Jason, and just this once Jason wishes he didn't know him so well. Jason turn away from Nico's questioning gaze, but he hears that Nico jumped to the roof. Jason can feel him approaching in silence and feel his presence sitting beside him on top of the table with his feet on the bench just like Jason. But even more, he can feel Nico's eyes burning the cold out of his skin. Jason looks around, avoiding Nico, and rub his hands trying to find something to do.
"They did a great job with the decoration out here." Jason says in an atempt of making small talk. Because talk about the Christmas decoration is a much safer topic right now.
Nico just hums in his throat I response to that. "You've been avoiding me all day. I wanted to help in your new place but you said a million times I didn't have to go there. And tonight at the party you barely looked at me."
Jason try his best not to sigh. He turns to Nico and as usual, he's not giving much away in his face expression, not like Jason that comunicates every single feeling through his eyes and every line on his face. Nico wouldn't drop this, Jason knew, unless he got a satisfactory answer to that.
"Just had a lot in my mind today. But I'm feeling better after thinking a little."
Nico doesn't even frown. "Wanna tell me what was so important to keep you away from me on your first day back?"
Fucking hell... "Just... things. Not worthy of your time. Sorry for being weird today." Jason fakes a smile. "Tomorrow I'm all yours, promise."
Nico gives an almost imperceptible sideways smile. He looks up at the chain of colorful lights and christmas decorations hanging above them. Jason shouldn't take this as an opportunity to look at him. His neck, his pointed chin, his eyelashes blinking slowly with just one tiny snow flake on his left eye— but he does. So he sees when Nico smiles.
"They did a great job at the decoration for sure." Nico says without looking down and Jason look up to see what he's talking about. His stomach churn because of how the universe or Aphrodite likes to laugh at his expenses. Above their heads the Christmas lights were arrenged with mistletoes between some of them.
"They probably thought people would have more courage to face the cold and come up here." Jason said and they looked back at each other, the colorful lights reflecting on Nico's dark eyes, making impossible not to stare at them. "Unfortunately for the mistletoes there's just us here."
Now the sideways smile wasn't so imperceptible. And if Jason wasn't seeing too much into things, Nico seemed nervous. "Then lets use it to something else. How about make a wish?"
Jason chuckled. "I don't know if—"
"Just close your eyes and make your wish, Grace." Nico's cheeks are probably a little pink because of the cold.
"Alright, sir." Jason closes his eyes still smiling. But the second he starts to focus on his wish to have a good first year back in NY and that he doesn't fuck up his friendship with Nico— Jason feels the air close to his face grow hotter, and he can feel the scent of Nico's perfume that smells like roses a lot closer, and just when Jason is about to open his eyes, he feels something soft against his lips. A shock wave turn his body on faster then a lightning. The soft feeling is gone in a second and Jason opens his eyes, finding Nico close— closer than ever before. Nico's eyes are trying to absorb every feeling Jason always wears freely on his face. But Jason can't even blink, can't even breath. And Nico panics.
"I'm sorry, that was stupid and totally out of line, I'm so sor—" Jason has just one move in his brain now, and it's not to breath or blink, he just puts his hands on Nico's face and make their lips meet again. It takes Nico half a second to kiss him back, and Jason can't help but smile between the kiss, making Nico smile too.
#this was supposed to be just a paragraph but as usual i cant shut up#i saw an art of another ship i love kissing under a mistletoe and i just had to make it about jasico#jason grace#nico di angelo#jasico#thunderworld
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Cinderfella's Adventures in Cordonia - Chapter Nineteen
An AU of The Royal Romance with a male MC and a bisexual prince.
Masterlist
Liam finally faces the consequences of his actions.
Drake and Liam jump, startled by the stranger’s sudden appearance. They had been so engrossed in their conversation that hadn’t even heard the door to the apartment open. Deep green eyes study the pair intently as the stranger makes his way towards Callum’s abandoned chair. He sits back in the chair with fluid grace, neatly straightening his charcoal colored suit and crossing his legs, not a strand of silver hair out of place.
“Now,” the stranger begins pleasantly as he adjusts the cuffs of his suit jacket. He gaze zeros in on the two younger men, intense and predatory. “I would like to have a small chat with the two of you about my son.”
********************************************************************
I exit the Uber, expecting to see firetrucks, flashing lights, EMTs, and a parade of pissed off clubgoers. Instead I see a long line of mildly impatient twenty-somethings waiting for the pair of bouncers at the doors to card them and adorn their hands with a UV stamp so they can enter.
He lied to me?
“Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” A husky voice floats out from the shadows, quickly followed by a handsome man in a brown leather jacket.
“Wasn’t expecting to be here,” I respond, smiling briefly. “But Pops text me; said there was an emergency situation here and an owner was needed on-site.”
Jax Matsuo’s brown eyes glitter as he smirks and makes a show of peeking around me to study the semi-orderly line that snakes around the building. “Well, everything seems to be in order. You wanna get out of here?”
Someone calls my name, saving me from giving my occasional friend with numerous benefits an awkward answer of why I can’t invite him over to my place and let him fuck me into my mattress like I usually do on Friday nights.
“Callum!” Donny yells at me from his illegally parked car, motioning for me to come over.
“Another time maybe.” Jax gives me a brief kiss, then meanders over to the club doors, joining the line of people waiting to be let in.
I jog over to the car, sliding into the passenger seat. I barely have time to buckle my seatbelt before Donny rockets into the flow of traffic, heading in the direction of our apartment building.
“What’s going on?”
“You never should have left those two in your apartment,” he mutters, simultaneously jerking the wheel hard to the right and flipping off some poor soul in the bike lane.
Spidey senses activate.
“Donny… what’s going on?”
“You father decided to pay your little boyfriends a visit.”
“What the fu-”
“Ioan’s with him.”
Pure fear rockets through me. “Drive faster!”
*********************************************************************
Drake and Liam exchange a worried glance, each one slightly afraid to speak.
A wheezy laugh catches everyone’s attention as an elderly man saunters out of the kitchen, leaning heavily on a cane, sugar cookie in his free hand. “Good job, Niall. Now do your Batman voice and really scare the shite out of these boys.”
“Christ almighty, Da.” Callum’s father closes his eyes and exhales heavily, massaging his forehead with the tips of his fingers. “I thought Donny was going to take you home.”
“I decided to come help you instead.”
“So help me and go home, you wrinkled menace to society.”
The old man rolls his eyes and slowly walks to the empty recliner. “You’ve gotten so tetchy since your last birthday, Niall. I swear, the closer you get to sixty the crankier you get.”
Liam giggles nervously, but quiets instantly when Niall shoots him a nasty look. Callum’s grandfather settles into his chair, shifting this way and that until he’s fully comfortable.
“Go on, son. Introduce me and then say whatever it is you want to say,” he commands, waving his hand imperiously.
Niall sighs heavily and tips his head back, closing his eyes and no doubt praying for the patience to keep from throttling his father. He opens his eyes, emerald gaze falling directly on Liam. “I’m Niall, Callum’s father. And this living museum artefact is Callum’s grandfather, Ioan.”
“Nice to meet you,” Drake and Liam mumble in unison.
“You know, my very first job was in Boston. At a fish market. I didn’t move to New York until a few years later,” Ioan suddenly muses, apropos of nothing. “What is it that you two boys do again?”
“Oh um.” Liam nervously clears his throat. “I am the king of Cordonia, Mr. MacKenzie. Sir.”
“That’s right,” Ioan murmurs, stroking his thumb over his lower lip the way Callum does when he’s thinking. “You’re the one who made my grandson compete.”
Liam pales. “It wasn’t… I mean… I didn’t personally make him compete, no.”
Ioan gazes sharpens and he raises one silver eyebrow. “Oh?”
“It’s Cordonian tradition,” Liam sputters. “There are standards one must meet before they can become the spouse of a king and -”
“Are you saying my grandson isn’t up to your standards, young man?”
“My standards and Cordonia’s standards are two separate things, Mr. MacKenzie. Callum is lovely, but my future spouse must be approved by both the Cordonian council and the public,” Liam rushes to explain, falling directly into Ioan’s trap.
“So you encouraged Callum to play a losing game?”
Liam makes a strangled noise and shoots Drake a look of pure terror, silently begging him to step in. Drake shrugs, quietly gleeful at Ioan’s interrogation of Liam.
“Drake, isn’t it? What do you do for work?” Niall’s green eyes, just a few shades lighter than Callum’s, pierce Drake with their intensity.
“I- um,” Drake falters while Liam hides his snickering behind his hand.
“Yes?” Niall prompts.
“I… help Liam?”
Niall looks unimpressed. “In what capacity exactly?”
“With- uh… whatever he needs?” Drake shrugs helplessly.
“So you’re a professional friend then? Are you paid for your time and services?”
Ioan chuckles. “Maybe he gets paid the same way you pay Donny for his ‘services’.”
“Da!” Niall’s voice pitches higher for a moment and a faint pink colors his cheeks, before he scowls and returns his attention to the two young men on the couch. “Why are you here?”
“Here as in…?” Liam ventures carefully.
Niall’s right eye gives a barely perceptible twitch. “As in my son’s apartment. As in the building that I own. As in this city. As in this state. As in this fucking country. So I repeat myself, which I truly hate to do. Why. Are. You. Here.”
Liam frowns and straightens his spine, annoyed by the other man’s tone. “New York is the final stop on my engagement tour. An international engagement tour. It’s not as if I picked this city solely because Callum lives here.”
“Any yet…” Ioan murmurs, pointedly gazing around the apartment. “Here you are. In Callum’s home.”
“When you’re engaged to someone else.” Niall’s gaze flicks over Liam, studying him, and he frowns, as if finding the young king lacking. He glance over at Drake. “I still don’t quite understand your part in all of this though.”
Drake guiltily avoids Niall’s gaze, picking at a small hole in his jeans. “Some of this is my fault,” he admits in a small voice. “I encouraged Callum to meet up with Liam. To talk.”
Any pretense of civility leaves Niall in that instant. “I don’t know what either one of you could possibly have to say to my son that has any value at all, and to be frank, I don’t care. Get out of this apartment. Go back to Cordonia. And never speak to Callum again.”
“With all due respect,” Liam begins.
Drake closes his eyes and braces himself for the inevitable fallout that always follows any statement that begins with ‘With all due respect’.”
“Just because you’re his father doesn’t give you any right to dictate who Callum does or does not speak to,” Liam continues indignantly. “He’s a grown man. He doesn’t need you to interfere in his personal affairs.”
“And yet you allow your father to interfere in yours,” Ioan murmurs, studying his fingernails. “I’ve always found hypocrisy so interesting.”
Liam falls silent, red-faced and fuming.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Your Highness,” Niall snarls. “Callum loves too deeply, cares too much when he shouldn’t care at all. I’ve seen my son broken before, held him while he cried over some boy. I watched him go to prison for five years when he was innocent, to protect someone who probably never really loved him. I was just starting to get my Callum back, my son who used to laugh and joke and come over for Sunday dinners and to watch football. And then you came along.”
Niall fairly spits the word ‘you’, so intense is his anger.
“A few weeks with you and he comes back to New York a broken shell. I held my son as he cried over another boy who didn’t deserve him. Do you have any idea how many nights he cried for you? Of course you don’t. You moved on with your life and got engaged as if he never mattered. My son was barely a blip on your radar. I had to pick up the pieces you left behind. I had to coax him to eat when all he would do is lay on that fucking couch and stare at the wall. I was the one who got him to shower, to get dressed, and go to the therapist I arranged for him to see. I was the one who encouraged him to start working, to leave this apartment and start interacting with people again.”
Liam’s eyes never leave Niall; he stares at the older man as if he’d been struck, the full implication of how his actions had hurt Callum hitting him for the first time.
“And yet, he’s still in love with you. He misses you every single day, and you being here is only dragging out his pain. You’re going to leave him again, go back to your pretty little castle and get married, have children. And he’s still going to be here. Alone and mourning the future he should have had with you. Just leave… quit tormenting him with hope, with thoughts of a future you never intend to give him.”
“I… I never meant… I…” Liam looks helplessly to Drake for assistance, to help him explain the rolling turmoil of emotions stealing his words and the air from his lungs.
“Stop. Talking.” For the first time that night Ioan raises his voice. “You’re going to leave and never speak to my grandson again. As far as you’re concerned he no long exists. You ever attempt to contact him, even once, and I will gut you like the spineless sack of shite you are.”
The old man’s eyes are flinty, the cold, pale blue of them startling in it’s intensity. Drake has no doubt that he means every word he just said.
“Pops! Grandda!”
All four men turn their heads towards the sound of a door slamming and footsteps pounding against the hardwood floor. Callum skids to a stop in the living room, studying the impromptu gathering warily.
“What’s going on?”
#pixelberry#choices#pb choices#choices fanfic#trr drake#choices stories you play#the royal romance#trr male mc#trr mc x liam#choices game#the royal romance bertrand#the royal romance maxwell#the royal romance mc#the royal romance liam#trr liam x male mc#trr liam#king liam#liam rys#trr drake x male mc#trr fanfic#choices trr#trr#trr au#trr drake walker#trr fandom#drake walker#drake walker x male mc#cinderfella in cordonia#cinderfellas adventures in cordonia
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standards
aph hungary and romania have a little chat about a future project regarding an archeological find.
no human names used -if i did it right no country names used either.
cussing and swearing and the most awkward tension ever.
cause i still fall back to write semi-personal rants using these two horrid little portraits, and cause i should really focus more on my uni but it was kinda inspired by uni.
The small kitchen with the two chairs filled with old times, smoke and dust reminiscence of a battle or a wine cellar. The two figures in it looked more akin to a painting waiting for restauration or half way saved from the teeth of time dulling their colors. One sitting at the table, the other next to the counter, glass in hand looking out the window.
The lazy afternoon basked them in warm, familiar almost kind hues, soothing out the acid in their tone.
‘ so he’s back. And you invited him back.’
‘not exactly. He found out I found where he stored his precious little favourite toy for 42 days and now he wants a guest room for him there.’
‘that’s… and you’re gonna set up that guest room?’
‘yep.’ The woman took a gulp of her glass. ‘what would you do?’
‘not tell him in the first place?’
‘as if that was ever an option.’
‘yeah it is. You found something you don’t say shit, end of problem.’
‘even Mr. ‘Murika found out before I could finish the search, there was no chance in hell he wouldn’t find out about it.’
‘so you’re just gonna set up a guest room for him to march back whenever he feels like it.’
‘yep.’ Another gulp. ’politics don’t really care about historical sentiment.’
‘ya crazy? That’s all it cares about, how else do you think people gonna vote?’
‘to be honest I’m still hoping people will be so fed up at one point they just don’t go to vote. Like any of them.’
‘dream on.’
‘but you know the same shit as me, forgiveness is our cultural corner stone, and if I’m half a good a Christian as my government makes me out to be, I should really be happy to be in the position to set up that guest room – as a sign of good faith and forgiveness and cultural friendship.’
The other snorted an ugly laugh.
‘and you believe that bullshit?’
‘as much as you do.’
The two figures raised their glasses at each other and took a swig. The one standing reached for the bottle to pour another round. The wine looked amber gold in this light, the sour taste mixed with the smoke from outside still reminder of old times that were never quite there.
‘so what now?’
‘hm?’
‘you’re done with your little speech, I can go I assume?’
She smiles, a crooked smile.
‘thought you would love to ridicule the shit out of this clusterfuck.’
‘it really is just sad if anything.’
‘I’m trying to re-learn a bit of comedic sense here.’
‘by rolling over for an abusive ex?’
‘might as well get used to being the punchline.’
She’s laughing. He’s just looking somewhere with hooded eyes.
‘and why do you think I give a crap?’
‘I know you don’t. it’s the best practice.’
Silence. She shrugs and looks out the window enjoying the last rays hitting the building and he studies her from behind his glass. Then he takes a gulp, sits down his glass on the counter and rolls his shoulders.
‘you know this is exactly what fucks you up more right?’
She hums and turns with a smile, question in her movements.
‘and you know that this fucks me up as well.’
‘and?’
‘and I was never a good enough enemy to be such a supportive boxing bag. I don’t wanna deal with your bullshit of choices.’
‘I don’t want you to.’
‘you told me about it.’
‘yeah so you get the whole story and can laugh more.’
There’s real mirth in her eyes when she smiles, the ones he last only saw under the soviets. The absolute nonchalant acceptance of a grotesque reality. It makes him all the more angry.
‘what sort of heartless monster do you take me for?’
‘a lucky enough bastard to still have a better image in grand total globally.’
‘so you do want me to suffer.’
‘i thought you don’t care enough about me to have any kind of effect on you.’
‘you told me this whole thing.’
‘you can always leave.’
‘don’t pull that shit on me.’
She’s all smiles and he hates how serious he sounds. As if he cares. As if they are actually friends binding over past trauma.
‘why aren’t you telling this to your precious little phoenix friend? He would actually care.’
She looks at her glass.
‘he was more on the trading side of the Ottomans. I was more on the get fucked part.’
‘so what, this whole thing here is just a get fucked pity party?’
She looks out the window again.
‘like you’re actually want to get a fuck out of this or some shit?’
The neighborhood is still painted in soft glow of the afternoon but their building is already in the shadows.
‘no, I’m not gonna let you use me in some twisted self-depricating spiral, no. Jesus woman get a grip.’
‘this is me getting a grip.’
‘no, this is some toxic shit you’re too gone to notice and too sado-mazo to not enjoy.’
‘as if you don’t get a kick out of it.’
‘again, what kind of monster do you take me for.’
‘the same.’
‘the same what?’
She glances at him and smirks and he hates how it gets him to hyperfocus again on her lips and eyes and how actually this is ridiculously working for him too.
‘as me?’
And it’s gone. The light behind her is faded, the colors are an ugly gray her face is tired and wrinkled, her hands are calloused and her nails have seen better days. Her lips are chapped, her eyes are sunk in and her hair is just a bunch of brown strings knotted in the mother of all nests.
And it’s still working. Cause those tired eyes have some remnants from a by-gone time where they hid together in the market, a little time for themselves between errands. She looked way better then. Being forced into the palace and the garden did wonders for her look. The subtle smell of flowers and that wild fire in her eyes worked wonders all around. But her harsh humor stayed. And he got them in trouble and she got them in trouble and it was way back and they were maybe just kids, maybe never adults and maybe it doesn’t count this time as it didn’t count then cause who keeps records anyway. They can enjoy the stolen moments and still hate each other.
It's always been like this. They got each other in hell – if all fails, this remains.
‘so what, you want me to use that guestroom too? Are you inviting me over to be your next ex-tocix shitty partner?’
‘would you? Or am I beneath your standards?’
He straightens up, crossing his arms anger boiling all memories into nightmares.
‘you’re not gonna drag me into your fucked up pity party.’
‘okay.’
She smiles and turns back to her glass, turns back to the window, giving him a way out, giving him time to collect all he needs from the kitchen and leave. He knows. This is his chance. To stick to what he’s saying and remain clean from her mess. Saving himself weeks of headache and self-doubt, a migrane a-
He sits down across of her, hands laced over eyes piercing this mess of a woman across him.
‘I still hate you, and I love to see you suffer but you need to get some help. Some serious help.’
‘if you look at it this way it can be a little art-therapy. Cultural things are art in every form, if I can make that room pretty enough it might work out.’
She’s talking to herself and he accepts for now, it’s better than to have her eyes on him daring him to leave her or jump her. Her profile is still carrying something from her golden days centuries if a millennia ago. It’s not fair how good she looks exhausted. How she has something from those classical romantic paintings’ sadness, that melancholy etched into her lines, her form. She spares him the dilemma of saying anything as she rambles on.
‘maybe this way I can finally get some kind of closure as well. Naïve I know. But I hate how good it feels to be a woman and know that I can thank him for learning that. I hate how much stuff I adore in beauty he loves too. I hate how he still think we’re good friends enough to just ask me to set up a guest room. I hate how I have to forgive and he doesn’t even think there are things he should maybe ask for forgiveness. I hate how if I act upon my part of the story I’m a moody bitch who cannot ever give another chance to anyone and the tackles idiot who can’t appreciate culture. I hate-‘
He reminds himself to breath as her voice trails off, slight tremors, a telltale sign of tears to come but she’s just smiles sharper at the window, her eyes creaking with spiteful cheeriness as she marches on.
‘ cause I know it’s pointless. Cause even if I make a nice enough guestroom and all the media covers it as some archeological historical great point cause ‘oh my Gosh that sultan was buried HERE, in the middle of fucking nowhere for HOW many DAYS, why yes of course you have to make a whole ass museum to talk about that culture’ and not about the ACTUAL fuckin CULTURE that it destroyed and damaged on the way, the actual living fuckin planecrash of a clown culture still kickin and screemin in my own fuckin language hogy a jó büdős kibebaszott élet kurná szét az egészet, mert tényleg felesleges. Az egész. Annyira. Felesleges. De jól mutat.’
Her voice gets quiet at the end. She retorted back to her own language and he hates how he gets the swears but not the end. She chuckles with centuries of resentment and it sounds nice when it’s not aimed at him but he squashes out that thought. He waits to see if she’s done. If he can leave. If he still has a way out of this.
‘don’t you love to watch a trainwreck fumble around parading as some super railjet?’
He lost. She’s looking at him through bitter smile, and he wants to snarl back, to behave cool and collected to correct her, to drag her to shore cause this is fucked up, cause she cannot be right all the fuckin time, cause he got better, he stopped this nonsense why does she have to drag him down again-
‘you need help.’
‘yeah. But no one’s gonna go out of their way to do it.’
She laughs
‘and honestly I get it. Everyone has their plate full. Wars and genocide all around and here I am crying about a fuckin museum for a 5 hundred dead skeleton who’s not even here.’
‘you need help from professionals not fuckups like me.’
‘now, don’t say that. You’re dealing with this waaay better.’
‘you trying to be positive is the most horrifying thing I’ve seen. Don’t do it.’
‘afraid your perfect little hate-able image will get morphed?’
She’s riling him up cause she’s desperate for a simulation, anything to voice out the self hate he knows all too well.
‘if anything it made it permanent.’
‘don’t you find it funny how we give up everything for the empires.’
The tonal whiplash hurts more with her eyes back to the window. He lost his chance to leave. He still could just get up and walk out but it’s too late, she wormed herself into his thoughts and he hates how much he wants to act. How he has this urge to do anything to shake her out of this. How he knows the next steps in this little dance.
‘the once ruling wonders built on our blood and cries upkept by never-dying-myths of grandure and culture we made reality. And yet. And yet…’
She burries her fingers into her hair, hiding behind her arms, folding in on herself.
‘it’s so fucked up to search any solace in a culture you were taught to hate on principle, something that did and didn’t do any lasting damage and change on you, something you find wonderful and horrifying, alien and oh so familiar. It’s so fuckin wicked to celebrate the man and the culture that destroyed your own. Yet…’
She looks at him again, her eyes burning in a haste, a carnal hurry and he’s afraid it’ll scorch him beyond repair.
‘yet, if you cannot appreciate the true value of all of this you’re the stupidest of all to live.’
Her voice is soft again, her eyes holding him in place for a moment before his lips betray him.
‘just poison him.’
She blinks in surprise.
‘when he comes over to the guestroom and you get down again just poison him.’
‘in this economy?’ she barks a laugh.
‘if you hate this so much do something. Refuse. Twist it. You’re the woman, you know how to be oh so better than us, just kill him in his sleep.’
‘but still get in his bed. Is what you say.’
He stops, she looks at him with sharp unbearable smile.
‘you do agree that I should just endure this whole and be what I am. A whore.’
He ruffles his hair in frustration. She keeps the paper thin smile pointed at his neck like a poison blade.
‘cause that’s how it looks no matter what I do. It’s pointless. No matter how much personal growth and therapy I sneak into that room to help me, it’ll always be just a glorified holding cell for a bed to fuck me in.’
‘you talking like this is not helping you in any way. And you know it. I know you know it.’
‘What? It’s the 21th fuckin century, strong independent woman can’t talk about how she’s a sex worker in the same room as lawyers about paid healthcare and social benefits?’
She was riling him up again.
‘How has this anything to do with the museum and all?’
‘Don’t tell me you think now that whore is a diminutive thing to call a woman? You loved to call me a bitch. Still do.’
‘You calling yourself that too?’
This finally shuts her up a bit. But hey eyes are liquid acid and he hates how it thrills him.
‘I thought you don’t care.’
‘does it look like I don’t care? Does this whole conversation sound to you like I don’t give a fuck?’
‘well, do you give a fuck?’
He stops himself from just grabbing a shaking her. To just shout at her to finally tell him what to do, how to help right now, not on the long run, not throughout the horrid journey of healing but right now, in this cursed moment where she wants to hit rock bottom, what on earth does she want him to do in this damned scene.
‘will you make that guestroom?’
‘not my decision. Government wants it, looks good for the media, for diplomacy, for culture.’
He’s off the hook for now, her eyes averted back to her glass.
‘so just make it about you. Tell your side of the story.’
She looks up with genuine laughter hiding in her crushed eyes. She gave up long ago.
‘do what you’re doing to me with style. Make it art. Sell it. Make it more alluring than that dead man.’
‘how could one conquered part of an empire ever be more interesting than the man who created it.’
‘you killed him didn’t you? Maybe that’s the spice. The place that cost the empire its greatest.’
‘and what did I get out of that kill? Wasn’t even me, it was old age and sorrow and my suffering only started then. It was only the beginning.’
‘you are still here. With your own language, own land, own history, make it about survival, make it about how empires fall yet some things remain.’
‘the hate. That remains. The disdain, the miscommunication, the different narratives. The complexity of it all never trully explained, that’s what remains.’
‘you are clever enough to leave all the breadcrumbs for others to find.’
She looks at him amusement mixed with the acid that drips from all deliberate wrong choice in life.
‘isn’t it naïve to think people will have the attention to even look for the crumbs?’
‘they will.’ He doubles down, hoping his voice comes across as determined and unvavering and not hungry. He licks his lips. Tossing a coin and jumping in without the result. ’after all, who doesn’t love a good mystery.’
Her eyes turn two shades darker, the same hunger echoing in them. Neither of them move. Old memories flash in, with the descending shadows, the outside slowly turning from gray to black with fizzling oranges and yellows splattered in it. Neither of them move to flick on the light.
It might be the last stop before the fall. The last moment to steer back the conversation, to even continue the conversation in any way. The next would be only actions. So the kitchen remains in dark, cause movement is an action.
It goes like this.
The only light in the small kitchen comes from under the door and through the window. Two set of eyes stare at each other centuries old dares echoing in them.
To see who moves first. Or who looks away. Who breaks the rules to create the exception.
The window paints her in muted gold and murky greys, her dark circles all the more prominent. She parts her lips a bit, maybe trying to say something, maybe to just get some air, cause it’s a stalemate, and the kitchen is filled with dust like a wine cellar long abandoned. She decided long ago where this was going. Yet-
His eyes are like fire, twinkling embers turning to charred ash, if she wasn’t already burning from the rot inside, he would scorch her. She tries to bat away his voice from the beginning, the raw worry in it spoils her determination. She wanted to feel like shit, he would make her feel like shit, the sky was blue the grass is green, these things should never differ…
A part of her appreciates the irony of the situation. She wants to believe so hard in how things are complex and if given enough time people can understand, better yet accept those complexities, and here she is, clinging with all her claws into such childish rules set up by oh so many variables.
She doesn’t want to hear the worry in his voice, doesn’t dare to think about the what ifs, the meaning of her own words on forgiveness and Christian compassion. She wants to feel like shit. How she thinks she should.
All these slow stops and ways out freeze her. The shadows helped so far yet now she hesitates. If she goes for it, just simply does what she wants she’s no better than the problem she talked about.
But she was always a problem. So now what?
He closes his eyes with a sigh, taking a deep breath. One of his hands come up to smooth over his face blinking back at her again. Shoulders slumped, exhausted.
The stalemate is broken. The tension – no. the moment is gone.
She blinks as well, still burning from the rot festering inside but biting back on the stench. He warned her multiple times, he wouldn’t do it. She’s almost proud for him. If she was anymore collected she would say it to him. Now all she does is reminding herself to blink, to quiet the fires, to get a grip.
He moves to stand up, taking her glass to move it to the sink.
‘you up for some hot chocolate?’
She shrugs, looking out the window, trying to focus on anything besides the rapidly approaching disappointment. Cause she’s gonna vomit all that bitter acid on to him. She’s gonna be that bitch who never appreciates a good deed. She just wanna feel like shit in a different way.
Hah. Ain’t she needy to boot.
He’s trying to busy himself with the process of heating up milk and dissolve the cocoa in it.
‘sweet or salty?’
‘bland.’
‘you mean bitter.’
She doesn’t trust herself with an answer. She’s looking out the window, he’s turned towards the counter. After some clinking with a spoon his voice is hesitant.
‘you need help. Not from me, not from the eu, not from the higher ups. Not politically or culturally. You need – fuck, it were so much easier if we were just humans – but you need simple humanitarian help. Like with compassion and shit. And I’m the last person you want this from but right now a simple hug and a real cry-out would help you more than you getting me to fuck you raw.’
He doesn’t turn towards her as he puts the two cups into the micro to bake the chocolate a little bit. Her voice is as dusty as the air.
‘Humanitarian help is what needed in Ukrain and Gaza and all those other places no news station can reach.’
‘yeah but you also gotta live. You made it this far. Would be a pretty miserable joke to give up now. It’s just a museum. You had worse.’
‘I have worse.’
She sighs, finally letting a tiny bit of tension out of her shoulders, hand trying to rake through her locks. She lays down on her folded hands over the table, still looking out.
So far the nicest rejection she got from him. Another one for the exceptions.
‘look what I try to mumble is that you deserve help. Isn’t that also in that ridiculous bible of ours?’
She closes her eyes muttering some half assed retort. The darkness is familiar behind her eyes, the quiet beeping of the micro is the next thing she focuses on cause if she let her emotions check in she will cry. And that would be just annoying at this point.
He places the mug down the table, slightly nudging her crossed arms as he sits down across, taking a sip. She doesn’t move. He feels like he ran a marathon and managed to knock over a blind kids sandcastle at the last step. He doesn’t know if he’s okay, if he can walk out now and he fears he’ll ramble something stupid so he tries to concentrate on the sweet warm drink in his mug. Not sure if it helps with anything. He tries not look at her crumpled form on the table basked in the lights from outside. Too much, too heavy, too… simple.
The air is still dusty and smells like old times, the silence almost domestic and her mug slowly stops steaming.
His voice is gentle if a bit croacked.
‘it’s gonna go cold.’
She finally moves to cup it in her hands, her head like a sad soggy sack of potatoes hung low as she gazes into the mug, not trusting herself to look at him. He clears his throat.
‘should I call a friend over?’
Her head moves a tiny bit, before a sullen shake tells him no. He takes another sip, trying to let the warmth of the drink solve this gordian knot.
She finally takes her first sip of the drink. Shoulders dropping, a sigh mumbled into the mug and he pretends to not see the tears and the snot on her nose.
‘thanks.’
‘yeah… just… just get help.’
‘you’re kind. Too kind.’
He ignores the acid around the words, how he knows it could have also played out and takes a sip again.
‘when the guestroom is ready you’re also welcome. To test if my little art-therapy worked.’
He cannot fight off the smirk.
‘you want to piss him off?’
She chuckles, her voice hoarse and crooked.
‘within survival reasons.’
He dares to look at her again and she has her eyes closed, a wobbly smile on her lips.
‘you’re gonna be okay.’ He tells her, surprised at how warm his voice is but chalks it up for the exceptions. ‘mixing high culture and history with passive aggressive narrative sounds like a fun task.’
‘yeah.’ She doesn’t open her eyes, just clutches her mug closer, sniffing as quietly as she can.
He imagines kissing her forehead for a moment but doesn’t move. They are too far apart, and anything like that would drag him dangerously close to just give into her despite his resolve. Instead when he’s done with his mug he searches for a napkin. Washing his own mug, putting the napkin next to her he stands, one hand on the doorhandle. He’s hesitant.
She blows her nose and it’s eerily soundless but she sighs again, a bit more straightened up and glances at him. His hand find the back of his neck, unsure what to say.
She cracks one of the saddest smiles he seen, nodding with her head.
‘run along, you outdid yourself tonight.’
‘you sure you don’t want a friend around?’
‘what, just cause you rejected to have sex with me and made me a pity choco we are friends now? How cheep do you think I am?’ the snark in her voice is shacky but back, her head held a little higher. ‘I’m quite picky with my friends, unlike my hookups.’
She’s finally smirking at him and there’s an itch to just march back and kiss her senseless cause she wanted this so bad, he’ll show how he’s above a cheep hookup but stops and just laughs a little snort.
‘well unlike you, I have standards for my friends and hook ups. But don’t worry, there’s always time to raise them some more.’
‘like only hookin up in a place dedicated to memorate a long gone empire you were partially slave of?’
‘sounds like a date.’
He winks and opens the door, seeing her wave an uncertain hand after him.
#aph hungary#aph romania#fanfic#semi-personal rant woven into a fanfic#rohun adjacent stuff#cause it's still my favorite toxic couple but i never let them get it on?#like they are too proud to give into stuff? kinda?#hetalia fanfic vaguely mentioning real history#i'm really bad at tagging.#also this was supposed to be the work that pushed me out of the procastination freeze i have for weeks now#not sure if it did it's job
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hi!! i was wondering if you knew of any rat art blogs and any tips for drawing rats? thanks!
oo okay
I'm not sure of any blogs specifically for rat art off the top of my head ?
My #ref tag has a bit of stuff, but not tons. You'll also wanna see #motion of slowness and #videos for study
I recommend tips for drawing any animal
start with the major components to the animal's body. Give its body and head more attention than its fingers/paws and eyes for now
watch lots of footage of it
watch slowmo videos
Get familiar with its movement and common behaviors
view its skeletal/muscular structures if you can
print out photos and draw big, simple shapes over them to break down the major parts
note the shapes' proportions relative to one another
think of each body part as an object instead of a body part
>>> E.g. if you're drawing an eye, don't be like "damm I have to draw this rat's eye". Be like "okay blueberry time, gotta draw this blueberry"
>>> E.g. drawing a rat's body? Nah babe, that’s a few bigass grapes. Draw those grapes
trace outlines over printed photos
graduate to freehanding with refs in front of you
start freehanding by memory, using your simple shapes and understanding of the anatomy + proportions to help you
hone in on finer details using the same tactics above: the shape of the ears, placement of eyes on head, slope of the snoot, angles of the legs, so on
bonus: print out photos of skeletal/muscular builds and try drawing in the animal on top
remember to try not to think of each part as that part.
E.g. you're not drawing a rat's ear, you're drawing a teardrop. Drawing a rat tongue? Corner of a Laffy Taffy
make sure you graduate from doing just side views and front views to more dynamic perspectives
Here's stuff specific to rats
Comprehensive, excellent, but french rat tutorial
Simple pet rat tutorial
Rat body language
Anatomy tips
VERY basic tutorial
How 2 Draw Animals: rat
Bean rats
Dragoart's rat tutorial
Lil toony guys
Head shape studies
More head shape studies
Body shape studies
Rat Tutorial by NezuPanda
Assorted refs
Ultimate rat tutorial
Distinguishing rat heads
How to draw common rodents
Rat shapes
Rat tutorial with a ref photo
A few blogs with great rat art
@corvuskatana
@sivsii
@dromaeocore
@cecelovesrats
@vashkareeth
@owlet
@ratsarecute4
@shrimpu-art
@grrreenrat
@saduniblin
@refurdraws
@shivers-sketches
@nopalrabbit
@groundpear
@rattinos
@ratsnrats
@flxwer-prince
@bedupolker
@fated-normal-767
@healingwhiskers
@bobthedragon
TONS more!
And here's some general resources:
Free software
More software, some free
Before each time you draw
Creating OCs
Coloring with lighting
Quick simplistic coloring
Spectacular ref tool
Custom 3D model of your specific character
Backgrounds via Minecraft
3D avatar model (humans)
Tracing
Traditional vs digital color theory
Paint Tool SAI brushes
Photoshop tips
Queer labels generator
Lineart & weight
Animation Masterpost
Stylization
Drawing heads
Foreshortening
Foreshortening 2
Assessing how to improve
BIGASS masterpost
Easily the MOST important tip
And general art help blogs!
@drawing-references-tutorials
@drawing-suggestions
@drawingden
@artistencyclopedia
@amalas-tutorial-and-inspiration
@etheringtonbrothers
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Yall, as you know, I've been on incorrect quote and otp generators, and I found these gems that made me laugh. I did edit a few just because. FYI, these are all 6 people quotes
♤♡◇♧◇♡♤♡◇♧
King: Oh, to be bored royalty who keeps rejecting marriage proposals due to being secretly in love with the cute gardener.
Rouxls: Oh, to be a cute gardener who secretly places roses in the royalty's room because they are in love with them.
Swatch: Oh, to be the palace huard who discreetly helps to boost the cute gardener up the wall for his secret deliveries in the middle of the night.
Tasque Manager: Oh, to be royalty's best friend witnessing the two fools dance around each other while knowing damn well that the two like each other.
Queen: Oh, to be the noble suitor from another royal family who comes to know of their love and instantly plans an entire plan to get them their happy ending.
Jevil: Oh, to be a medieval peasant who knows nothing about the royalty's personal life and who dies of dysentry at the age of 23.
♤♡◇♧◇♡♤♡◇♧
Jevil: The floor is lava!
Swatch: *calmly sits on the couch*
Seam:*picks Jevil up and sits him on the couch
Tasque Manager: *kicks Spamton off the sofa*
King: *lays on the floor*
Queen: ...Are you okay?
King: No.
♤♡◇♧◇♡♤♡◇♧
Seam, rubbing their temples: I am not proud of what I am about to say, but someone get me a cigarrette.
Jevil: But Seam, we don't smoke.
Seam: Cut the crap, Jevil. I'm not an idiot. I know that one in five people smoke.
Seam: *points at Spamton* One! *points at King* Two! *points at Rouxls* Three! *points at Swatch* Four! *points at Jevil* Five!
Seam: Now, I am going to close my eyes, and when I open them, there better be a cigarrette between these two fingers!
Swatch: *puts a cigarrette in Seam's hand*
Seam: Thank you. ...Light?
The Squad: *all simultaneously pull out lighters*
♤♡◇♧◇♡♤♡◇♧
Rouxls: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the things you lost throughout your life.
Seam: It would be nice to have my sense of purpose back...
Tasque Manager: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this.
King: My will to live! I haven't seen this in years.
Queen: I knew I lost that potential somewhere.
Swatch: Mental stability, my old friend!
Rouxls: Jesus, could you guys lighten up a little?
♤♡◇♧◇♡♤♡◇♧
Rouxls: Swatch kissed me!
Jevil: Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!
Rouxls: It was unbelievable!
Jevil: Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!
Sean: Okay, we wanna hear everything. King, get the wine and unplug the phone. Rouxls, does this end well or do we need tissues?
Rouxls: Oh, it ended very well.
King: Do not start without me! Do not start without me!
Seam: Okay, alright, let’s hear about the kiss. Was it a soft brush against your lips or was it like a, you know, “I gotta have you now” kind of thing?
Rouxls: Well, at first it was really intense, you know? And then, oh God, and then we just sort of sunk into it.
King: Ohh... So, okay, were they holding you? Or were their hands on your back?
Rouxls: First they started out on my waist and then they slid up and then they were in my hair.
Seam, Jevil and King: Ohhh.
*meanwhile*
Swatch eating pizza in the Color Café: And, uh, and then I kissed him.
Queen: Tongue?
Swatch: Yeah.
Tasque Manager: Cool.
♤♡◇♧◇♡♤♡◇♧
Spamton: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat?
Jevil: >:O language
Queen: Yeah watch your fucking language
King: Okay, who taught Queen the fuck word?!
Swatch: 'The fuck word'.
Rouxls: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time
Queen: Oh my god they censored it
Swatch: Say fuck, Rouxls.
Queen: Do it, Rouxls. Say fuck.
♤♡◇♧◇♡♤♡◇♧
Tasque Manager: If you put 'violently' in front of anything to describe your action, it becomes funnier.
Tasque Manager: Violently practices.
Swatch: Violently studies.
Jevil: Violently sleeps.
Spamton: Violently shoots pictures.
Queen: Violently boxes.
King: Violently murders people.
Seam: Violently worries about the previous statement.
♤♡◇♧◇♡♤♡◇♧
I'm going to 100% do more
#deltarune#king deltarune#king of spades#chaos king#deltarune queen#queen#rouxls kaard#rouxls deltarune#rouxls kaard deltarune#swatch deltarune#deltarune swatch#tasque manager#jevil#deltarune jevil#spamton g. spamton#deltarune spamton#spamton#spamton g spamton#theres one swatchkaard thing#swatchkaard
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Okay, with the completion of Book 1/3, Out of the Shadows, complete, here's a sneaky peak of a bit from Chapter 1 of Into the Light.
Warning:: There is foul language ahead!!
Also, I still need to do more editing, so there may be errors but I just wanna share SOOOOOOO BAD!!!
* * *
Naturally, few children enjoyed getting a checkup. Feral pranksters with little respect for authority were no exception. Sally for one had to turn and face the nearest wall, hand plastered across her own mouth to prevent herself from laughing, when her former captor got a handful of... something thrown in his face when he was preparing to give them their rabies shot.
Geoffrey simply stood in front of the door, blocking the primary escape route, while stroking Zero's soft, white fur. He glanced up at Jack, as the skeleton calmly cleared his throat.
"Geoffrey, while I can appreciate the dedication you've put into insuring my safety as well as Sally's, I really must ask-" Jack paused, listening to the clatter of a metal tray against the stone floor, followed up by some rather colorful language from the Doctor himself.
Suddenly, his eye sockets quirked and he grit his teeth nervously with a chuckle.
"It worked, didn't it?" Geoffrey said, giving a knowing look to his employer.
The Pumpkin King let out a sigh, watching while Igor ran around the examination table, trying to catch Barrel as the smallest of the three was desperately trying to avoid the fate of the other two; a sharp needle filled with medicine, the bane of any child, regardless of realm!
"Just... please, try to tone down the language. Especially when children are present, if you would."
"Boss, I'm tellin' ya," the human started, abruptly cutting himself off.
"Help! He's got me -owww!!- Shit!!" Barrel yelped, while his friends cackled and snickered.
"They didn't hear that one from me, chief!" snorted Geoffrey, gesturing to the Doctor with his thumb.
Zero let out a yelp, quickly phasing through the floor. (Smart pup, honestly.)
Taking pity on the overwhelmed old scientist, Jack, Sally, and Geoffrey stepped in to restore order and ensure that the rest of the checkup went smoothly. (In fact, this may very well have been the first medical examination these three have ever had.)
Of course, while examining each child in turn, there were several reminders of the negligence these three had endured. Old scars, many of which had been inflicted due to the fights that broke out with each other. Well overdue for a bath. More than likely the result of squalid living conditions. For as much as they might have done, what they were still hiding, even Geoffrey couldn't help but pity the lot of them.
"Come on, we're learning sooooo much!" Lock pleaded, "Teach us another one."
"Oh no! There will be no more of that kind of talk," Sally said, firmly.
"Like fucking hell! Khahahahaaaa!" cackled Shock, gripping her sides from laughing so hard.
It must have been her first time saying such depravity out loud... in front of the adults, no less!
"Enough of that, you vulgar child!" Dr Finkelstein snapped, lightly slapping Shock's hand.
Jack cast Geoffrey a scolding and disapproving look before holding Barrel still so that Dr Finkelstein could take a listen to the ghoul's undead heart.
"I still don't think they heard it from me first!" the mortal protested.
* * *
I personally head cannon that Jack is far too much of a gentleman to use vulgar language. He's quickly learning why Neo was the diplomat.
Jack is highly adept at Courtly Graces. Geoffrey knows Courtly Graces, he just doesn't care. Neo studied the realm of Halloween, learning their customs and traditions. Geoffrey might have skimmed the table of contents in one of his sister's books... If that gives you an idea.
#silverhyena#silverhyena tv#silverhyenaart#fan fiction#fanfiction#fanfic#nightmare before christmas#jack skellington#sally the ragdoll#lock shock and barrel#dr Finkelstein#humor
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Which show that I wanna create sounds better (acording to the plot)
Irisia - So generelly, the story is abt a girl called Violet, who after seeing magic triple rainbow goes to a like "rainbow wonderland" called Irisia. [latin. Iris - rainbow]
Violet meets a group of people in her age that guards Irisia from danger etc. She really wants to become a member of the group, so they let study to become one of them.
The members : Cherry (leader), Bleuy, Forest, Bowie and Amber (you can read smth abt Cherry and Bluey and also Violet; I'll tell abt the rest later)
Everyone in Irisia has diffrent powers (f.ex Bluey has power of water and supersenses, Forest has a power of plant and superstraingh, Amber fire and high IQ, Bowie lightnings and superspeed and Cherry has powers of all of them)
While that, they struglle with their enemies, who leads Irisia.
2.Chroma Tales - In the world of sparkles and pixies, there lives our main character - pixie called Alex. While he grows up, he started to change his skin color. From blue to yellow. All sparkle have red skin color and pixies blue skin color, so he starts being different than others. But one day, he meets Charlie – a sparkle that can change herself to sparkle or pixie or some creature with purple skin color, which means she’s also extra-ordinary.
3. Enchanting High - Raven, 14.y.o girl is an outcast in her school, as everyone finds her wierd. One day, in her class comes a new student, Julia. She suprisgly also bahaves wierd but she is really kind to Raven and wants to make a friend just with her. Then Julia comes out to Raven as a fairy. Later on, it turns out that Raven is a witch. Then they both skip to other realm and enter the magical school. In the school there are two hauses : Moon and Sun (Moon House is like Ravenclaw+Slytheryn and Sun House is like Griffindor+Hufflepuf)
4. Eclipsed Flames- Two girl that go to the same high school and have crush on each other, secretly transform to superhero and supervillain. One called Sandra turns into superhero Maghelia(the name is a word game of “mega” and Helios – Greek God of Sun). She’s got powers of light, fire, air and other similar and second one called Luna turns into supervillain Terranova ( the name is also a word game, but of “terra” and “supernova”). She’s got a power of darkness, water, earth etc. They obesely fight with each other.
5. Nov and Nuilly - In the mystical elven city of Eldorath, where shadows conceal both secrets and sorrows, two broken souls, Nov and Nuilly, find themselves entwined in a complex dance of redemption. Xavier (Nov) Noir is the most famous criminal in the elve city. However, as he realises that what is he going is bad, he stops his "crime carrer", but one day he meets Naula (Nuilly) Lynx, who wants to be his sidekick.
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